Page 80 of Call Sign: King
He’d have to uncover Khloe’s body to get his right arm in a position to fire and that wasn’t going to happen. Putting his head down to block her further, Ryder prepared to be shot, hoping Vlad’s bullet hit his Kevlar vest.
The fresh flurry of shots had his ears humming. He waited for the pain to register, but it didn’t come. Vlad had somehow missed the easy shot.
Ryder lifted his head again, in time to see Alexi lowering his still smoking weapon.
Yana’s guttural screams confirmed what Ryder suspected: Alexi had shot his cousin in the head at close range. The splatter of blood on the wall behind the stage assured him that Vladimir Volkov had terrorized his last victim.
Unfortunately, Yana appeared more vengeful than ever. She’d waited four years to win this war of vengeance against Nicolai. She wasn’t going down without her own fight.
Pulling a weapon from under the table, Yana raised her gun, ready to take out her nephew for his betrayal.
With her attention away from Khloe, Ryder felt safe lifting off his wife just long enough to fire a bullet into Yana’s forehead, dropping her to the floor.
The weapon she’d held, fell to the floor, skittering across to within a few feet of Yurdin. Ryder could see the temptation on the old butler’s face. He was thinking about picking up the fight where his masters had left off.
Ryder was weighing the pros and cons of dropping the butler when a final shot rang out. Yurdin fell to his knees, a hole in his forehead, an exact match to the shot that had killed Yana. The man flopped forward onto his chest, motionless.
Ryder finally looked back to see it had been Torch who’d taken the final shot.
“No loose ends,” Torch answered his unanswered question.
Nodding, Ryder agreed, “Good call.”
“Ryder? Is it over?”
Hearing Khloe’s voice, close enough that he could feel her warm breath against his cheek, was the best sound in the entire world. Laying his gun down, he pushed up high enough to finally get a good look at his beautiful wife.
The bruising and swelling on her face infuriated him, making him wish he could bring Vlad back to life long enough so he could kill him all over again.
“Hi Princess,” he said, gently brushing his thumb across her bruised cheek, swiping at her tears. “You were so brave.”
“I knew you’d come.”
His relief that he’d gotten to her in time warred with his guilt for having put her in danger in the first place, making it hard for Ryder to speak. He was grateful Vlad’s abuse hadn’t stolen that bright light that emanated from his wife, even here in this retched room. Her trusting smile was his life blood.
“I’m sorry it took so long,” he finally ground out, knowing that as much as he’d hated her being in danger for even one minute, in the timeline of most of the BSO missions, this one had come together with remarkable speed, a testament to the skill of his team.
“Can we go home now?” Khloe asked, reaching up to cup his face just as he was doing to her.
Ryder turned enough to kiss the palm of her hand before answering. “Not to scare you, but we aren’t completely out of the woods yet. We’re not entirely sure how many of the Volkov soldiers are going to be loyal to Alexi or if some might still have loyalties to Vladimir. Until we are on the Condor and out of Russian air space, I’m not letting my guard down.”
A fast flash of fear was quickly erased from Khloe’s face. “I’m not worried,” she said. “Now that you’re here, everything is going to be okay.”
Ryder wasn’t sure he deserved her continued faith, not after it had been his oldest enemies that had put her into danger in the first place, but he was grateful for her trust, nonetheless.
As much as he hated to expose her to danger again, Ryder reluctantly pushed to his feet, determined to get the metal restraints off Khloe so they could get the hell out of there.
It was only once he was standing over her that the stain of fresh blood came into focus. Had he missed her being shot?
“What the fuck?” he shouted, frantically rolling her body to see if he could find the source of her bleeding. When he realized it was coming from between her legs, he snapped, howling with fresh rage.
The fucker had raped her. He’d hurt her enough to make her bleed.
The baby? Oh God, had she lost the baby?
“Ryder… honey… it’s okay. It’s not what you think.”
Khloe was pulling at his shirt, trying to get her to focus on her again. When he did, the sad smile he found eased him slightly.
