She tried to blink and focus. Peter. Prodding her arm. The prick of pain startled her, just before a dark cloud pushed through her consciousness. The last thing she heard before the darkness swept over her was the announcement that item number nine had sold.
For a measly three hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars.
…
Travis raced down the narrow corridor, his gun drawn, until he reached another locked door. This one with a security system attached. He kicked his leg out, but it held firm.#p#分页标题#e#
“Items three, five, and six are to be delivered to the last truck,” a man’s voice said through the earpiece. “Take nine to the landing pad. We’ll be there in a minute with another passenger.”
Hell, he didn’t have time for this or for being inconspicuous. Stepping back, he aimed and shot at the lock before kicking the door open.
He expected some resistance—men racing toward him that he’d have to be ready for. But there was no one. Smelling fresh cigar smoke, he slipped through the suite to the final room, where it was strongest.
Empty. Only the empty glass and smoldering ashtray told him that someone had been there. Very recently. Then he saw it. The glistening blade of the knife he’d attached to Meredith’s thigh earlier tonight. On the couch.
She’d been here. Had drawn that to defend herself. Against what?
“Travis?” Meems’s voice said from his left ear, having been quiet up until now so as not to interfere with the chatter from the other earpiece. “They’re moving Darcy now. She’s listed as number nine.”
The one heading to the landing pad. “You sure?”
“Saw her myself. Drugged like all of them. Worse—Meredith ran into some trouble.” She relayed what the cameras had caught, and he stood, trying to remain calm. To not slam his fist in the wall.
Noise above him drew his attention to the television screen. Three bright spotlights lit up the center of the room. Whatever show they’d put on was over. But people were rushing across the room. Quickly, probably spurred by the sound of his earlier gunfire.
Then he caught sight of them. Meredith being carried by some large goon. Another man. And Peter following.
He raced out and stopped at the door that led into the warehouse beyond. This was the only way they could have escaped. Locked, of course, but he shot again and pushed through. He could hear the sounds of the trucks starting.
Hell and damnation. They were leaving. Where was Meredith? Darcy? And where the hell was this landing pad?
He was in the large open space he’d seen moments ago on the screen. The bright spotlights nearly blinding him. He was close.
“Meems? Still there? Where the hell did they go?”
“Keep going. There’s a stairwell at the back, by the exit. But hurry. They’ve reached the roof.”
He saw it and took the stairs, two at a time. At the landing, he threw open the door and ran out onto the roof. He heard it before he saw it.
A helicopter.
They were climbing in. Meredith’s unconscious figure was handed off to someone inside. Another wrapped figure was pushed inside before the goon joined them.
Peter started climbing in next, and Travis’s chest felt like it might explode as he raced toward them. The pilot must have seen his movement and said something to Peter, who clung to the door as the helicopter began to rise before he could get inside.
Travis leaped into the air and managed to gain purchase by holding onto the copter’s open door, as did Peter. The copter hovered, thankfully, not flying farther up as the pilot decided what to do with the men dangling on the side. The goon’s fist crashed into Travis’s head, but he needed to hold on. The man came at him again, and this time Travis used his left arm to sucker punch the guy, taking the seconds he needed to drop the tracker into the guy’s jacket pocket.
Peter took the moment to try and squeeze in through the doorway, but Travis grabbed him and clung to his arm before falling back. Peter, without time to grab onto anything, fell with him, landing eight feet below on the ground.
The copter hovered another moment before someone inside yelled, “Go!” and then it lifted and climbed higher into the sky.#p#分页标题#e#
A fist slammed into Travis’s skull, and his head whipped back before another fist caught him in the gut. Damn. The other goon. From the corner of his eye, he saw Peter try to stand but buckle as his leg twisted to the side. Broken. It was the least of the broken bones he’d suffer after Travis got his hands on him.
But first to incapacitate this asshole, who lunged again for him. Travis got to his feet and dodged the next fist and delivered a punch to the guy’s side. He arched his back in pain, and Travis delivered another quick hit to the sternum before kicking out, the crack of the guy’s knee sending him crumpling. He finally heard the wailing of sirens, as the sound from the helicopter was trailing away. Heading south.