“I wanted to get the drop on ‘em. I just knocked the accountant out so that he couldn’t run.”
“Smart.”
“I know.”
What an asshole.
An extremely handsome, charming asshole who just saved my life.
“One guy to go,” I tell him, pointing over my shoulder.
“Easy,” Grayson smiles, and then leans in to whisper something into my ear. I listen intently, and then I just give him a nod as he returns to the shadows.
“I GIVE UP!” I shout, putting my Beretta on the ground and kicking it over so that the Russian asshole can see it. “I can give you what you’re after!”
“Come out! Hands in the air!”
God, I hope this works.
Slowly, I get up to my feet and walk out from behind the wall, hands raised over my head. The Russian crawls out from his hiding spot, eyeing me furiously, and then waves his gun at me.
“Where’s your friend?”
“He ran away. He just—”
I don’t get to finish my sentence. Grayson appears from behind the man and, instead of using his gun, he traps the Russian in a headlock, his biceps bulging as he chokes the poor bastard out.
“Done,” he merely says as the guy collapses, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky.
“This was intense,” I breathe out, adrenaline still coursing through my veins.
“No,” he laughs. “Just a regular Tuesday. But you did okay.”
“Could you be any more condescending, asshole?” I laugh, my whole body burning from the inside out. It’s true—a sudden rush of adrenaline might make you really, really horny.
But I can’t think of that right now.
I have a job to do.
“Wakey, wakey, Alejandro,” I say as I prod the account with the tip of one foot. “Time for you to keep your promise.”
Twelve
Eliza
“Here it is.”
Poor bastard is almost ready to cry again. He thought he’d get out with the formula and cash out, but now...well, now he has betrayed his employers and is handing us the only thing that might have kept him alive.
Sucks to be an accountant, I guess.
Silent, and still holding his gun, Grayson grabs the folder from Alejandro’s hand. He takes a quick look at it, and then hands the whole thing to me. I flick through the pages and my heart sinks.
It’s coded. All of it.
“Where’s the fucking cypher?” Grayson growls, but the accountant just raises his hands up in the air, a terrified expression on his face and...he pisses himself. I can do nothing but sigh as I see the fabric of his jeans growing darker and darker around his crotch.
“I...I don’t have it!” He squeals. “The Russians were getting that from someone else. The chemist who developed it trusted the cypher to one of his associates, and...well, I have no idea where it is. He never gave it to me as insurance.”