WAR: Disruption (39 page)

Agony swamped Max. Spots swirled across his eyes. Ah shit, not again.

He clenched his teeth and clung to consciousness by a hair.

Emily’s screaming reoriented him. He forced his body to ignore the pain and hauled himself upright. Seeing one of Dietrich’s men approaching, Max reached down to the weapons he’d stashed. He unsheathed a combat knife and palmed it just as Dietrich’s man yanked open the passenger door. As the man pulled him out of the vehicle, Max stabbed him in the gut. The man released him and fell back a step. Max pulled his knife free, turned it around, then slammed the hilt into the wound he’d just made. The man collapsed to the ground, clutching his stomach. Max kicked him in the head to knock him out, then snatched up the man’s Uzi.

He raised the rifle, then turned his head toward Emily’s screams. Saw that she was kicking and flailing against her captor’s hold. When the man tightened his elbow around her neck, she gouged his hand with her nails even as the man cut off her air.

The man turned so that Max could see the pistol he held to Emily’s head. “Don’t try anything or I’ll shoot.”

Max glared at the man. Dammit, he couldn’t fire. The man was a pro. He held Emily in such a way that all of his vulnerable points were hidden behind her body. There was nothing Max could do but watch helplessly, once again, as the man dragged Emily toward the other Hummer, which had stopped to Max’s left. The Land Rover and Dietrich were now to his right. Smart move. Max could fire at Dietrich’s group, but then the guard would kill Emily. He could wait for a chance to take down Emily’s captor, but the second Max made a move, the men around Dietrich would fire.

Max growled in frustration. The man holding Emily smirked and tightened his elbow around her throat. She gasped, clutching at his hand. After a moment, the man eased up on the pressure and she sagged in his grip.

Her eyes met his, blazing with emotion. So fierce. So determined. So full of love.

He would
not
let Dietrich hurt her. He would die first.

“Step away from the vehicle, Maximilian,” Dietrich called from behind the open door of the Land Rover. His head, shoulders and lower legs were exposed, but as long as the guard held a weapon to Emily’s head, Max couldn’t fire.

“Let us discuss the resolution to this situation like civilized gentlemen,” Dietrich added. “Put down your weapons and surrender peacefully.”

“Only if you release the girl. She needs medical attention and has nothing to do with this.”

“Patience, Max. First, your weapons.”

Max vibrated with frustration. With the need to act.

But he wouldn’t risk Emily’s life.

So he put the Uzi on the roof and slid it out of reach.

“Now the knife with which you so coldly cut down my man.”

Max hesitated, then put the bloody knife on the roof and nudged it out of reach. Dietrich nodded approval. “See, I always knew you could be reasonable.”

Max snorted. Right. Kris and Wil would bust a gut laughing if they heard that statement.

At a signal from Dietrich, one of his guards marched over while keeping his HK417 trained on Max. “Move slowly,” the man said. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

Max nearly laughed. He was barely staying vertical thanks to his white knuckled grip on the door. His hands wouldn’t be going anywhere.

The guard glanced into the Hummer. “He has multiple weapons inside,” he called out.

Two more guards moved in. One gathered up the CheyTac and the other loose rifles, while the second man lifted the injured guard and carried him away.

The guard nearest Max prodded him. Hoping to mask his vulnerability, Max attempted to edge around the door. The world spun. He bowed his head, fighting back dizziness. He could not,
would
not, pass out now.

Not when Emily’s life depended on him. He was
not
going to fail this time.

The guard poked him with his rifle. “Stop stalling. Move.”

Max raised his head and glared at the man. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

The guard’s eyes narrowed.

“Dietrich, tell this moron that I can’t walk on my own. I’m barely managing to stay upright with the help of this door.”

Dietrich tsked, then explained to the guard in German that Max had been severely injured and therefore was no threat now that he was unarmed. Still regarding Max suspiciously, the guard nevertheless lowered his weapon and stepped back.

It would have been the perfect opening. If Max had a second weapon close to hand. But with the rifles gone, the nearest weapon was the pistol he’d stuck in the other door’s map holder. Impossible to reach without getting himself shot.

Even if Max wasn’t under guard, the man holding Emily had his finger on the trigger of the pistol pressed to her temple. Max wouldn’t risk her life by going for a weapon. So, putting on his most nonchalant expression, he called out, “We’re going to have to talk like this, Dietrich, unless you want to come over here.”

Dietrich gave him a mocking smile. “I do not think so.”

“All right, then. What do you want?”

“What I really want, is not in your power to give me. Not any longer.”

Ah, fuck. He’d been counting on Dietrich still wanting the location of the original briefcase. Feeling a sense of doom, he waited for Dietrich to elaborate.

“You will tell your friends at WAR to give me and my men safe passage out of the country.”

Max jerked. How did Dietrich know about WAR? Let alone that Max had a connection to them?

Shit. Did WAR have a traitor? Or had one of their partners been less than discrete?

“In addition, you will also send me all of the intelligence you have gathered about me over the years. I can’t have you turning that data over to the authorities, should you find someone who believes you.” He smirked. “Only then will I have my man release your girl, unharmed.”

Max glanced over and saw to his horror that the man holding Emily now held a knife to her throat instead of a pistol.

“If you deviate in any way from our agreement, then my man will carve up the lovely lady. Something to match the scars she already has, yes?”

MAX SWALLOWED BACK bile at the thought of that knife so much as nicking Emily’s skin. “That’s not the act of a gentleman, Dietrich.”

His nemesis gave an elegant shrug. “What can I say? This is a cutthroat world.” He chuckled at his own pun. “I did not rise to be one of the best in my profession by serving tea and cookies.”

No, the man was one of the most ruthless bastards Max had ever come up against. And he had Emily. Who, Max could see, was losing energy. Dammit, he was out of time.

He fought not to let his fear show as he stared at Dietrich and tried to figure a way to free her. The late afternoon sun at his back threw shadows across the tilled earth. Dietrich and his men were looking into the sun as they watched him. Could he use that to his advantage?

While he struggled to come up with a plan, Max decided to play dumb. “What’s this WAR you mentioned?” he called.

“Do not stall, Max. You and I both know that in addition to weapons, I deal in information. I know what Azumah is up to. I know that several of your former teammates from Unit 3, led by Kristoff Wren, have joined with WAR to fight the rebels. And I know that before you went rogue you gathered a file of incriminating evidence against me. I want your promise that all I have been asked will be granted. Do I have your agreement?”

Max hesitated.

“I grow impatient, Maximilian. Perhaps you need some persuasion?” Dietrich motioned toward the man holding Emily.

The man turned her head to the side. Emily whimpered as he lowered the knife.

“No!”

Dietrich barked at the man to stop. “Yes, Max?”

“Fine. You win. I’ll call WAR and tell them to let you leave the country.”

“And the data?”

“Yes, damn you. You’ll get it. There’s no need to hurt the girl.”

Max saw a flash of light above the tree line on the other side of the field. Crap. It looked like a second helicopter. Did Dietrich have a whole friggin’ fleet out there?

No wonder the man had been so chatty. He’d been stalling until his ride arrived. And in the process, he’d manipulated Max into confirming his association with WAR. Kris was going to kick his ass. If Max survived.

Dietrich nodded at the man holding Emily. The guard shifted his grip, pulling her onto her toes as he walked backward toward the Hummer.
Bad move, buddy.
The man might have thought he was putting Emily at a disadvantage, but Max knew that years of dancing ballet would give her an edge.

If she still had enough energy to fight. Her struggles had weakened.

He looked for an opportunity to act. Even though the new position of Emily’s body left the guard’s lower legs exposed, it was too narrow a target for Max in his current, shaky condition. He’d just have to watch for the guard to make another mistake, providing him with a bigger target and a reason to risk diving for the Glock in the other door’s map holder.

“Call your contact at WAR now,” Dietrich ordered. “And put it on speakerphone.”

The guard on his right moved in. “Where’s your phone?”

Luckily, the collision with the other Hummer had knocked the sat phone out of sight. “I locked it in the glove box. So I need to get the keys.” Max pointed to where they dangled from the ignition.

The guard nodded, but kept his rifle aimed at Max’s head. Max moved slowly, exaggerating his injuries. He sat down in the passenger seat, reached over, and deliberately fumbled the keys as he pulled them out. The sound of the helicopter grew louder and everyone’s heads went up. Max took advantage of the distraction to drop the keys onto the floor under the steering wheel.

Cursing as if he hadn’t meant to do that, Max leaned down to retrieve them, angling his body so the guard couldn’t see him reach for the hidden Glock. He misjudged the distance and his ribs connected with the gear shift. God
damn
, but that hurt. The world spun.

No! Forget the pain. Focus on your task. Save Emily.

He took a deep breath.

The sound of the helicopter’s rotors was a faint hum that grew louder by the minute.

Dietrich shouted orders to his men.

Time slowed.

Max’s fingers closed around the pistol and he yanked it free. With the guard distracted by Dietrich’s shouted instructions, Max shot him in the chest. Before the guard fell, Max switched his focus out the open driver’s door to Emily and her captor.

Emily had also made use of the distraction. Her captor held her slightly toward his right hip, with his right arm hooked around her upper chest and his left hand holding the knife to her throat under her chin. Still on tiptoe, Emily’s left leg rose in a quick kick that hit the man’s left elbow. She leaned away as the kick drove the knife up and back. Instead of cutting her, the knife sliced across her captor’s cheek. He loosened his hold. Emily wedged her hands in between the man’s elbow and her throat, then pushed out to force him to release her.

She dropped to the ground and rolled away.

Yes! That was his kickass ballerina.

Max fired at the man who’d been holding her. Shot the man twice, and the driver who’d gotten out to offer support once, before Dietrich noticed and his men opened fire. Not at him, but at—

“Emily!”

He turned in time to see her dive inside the other Hummer and slam the door shut behind her.

Thank God. She was safe.

Max aimed at the group surrounding Dietrich, but they’d all ducked into the Land Rover. His pistol wasn’t going to do him much good against the armor covering the other vehicle. Max slipped into the cargo compartment of the Hummer as Dietrich’s men laid down fire.

As he waited the round out, he pulled a G36 out of one of the boxes Dietrich’s men had failed to remove. He quickly loaded it, crawled into the front seat, and started shooting out the side window.

There must have been a weapon inside the other Hummer, because Emily was also shooting at Dietrich’s men. Damn, his woman was amazing.

But instead of returning fire, Dietrich and his men drove away.

Fuck. Thanks to the number of bullets it had taken, his windshield was a cloudy mess. Peering through a narrow strip of relatively clear glass at the far left side, Max drove after Dietrich. A second later, an explosion knocked Dietrich’s Land Rover onto its side.

Emily stood behind the open door of her Hummer, getting ready to throw another grenade. Hooah! Just call her Ballet Rambo Girl. Max tightened his grip on the steering wheel as another explosion rocked the vehicle.

Through the dust, Max saw Dietrich and his men crawl out of the Land Rover. His guards immediately started shooting at Emily, but she once again ducked inside her Hummer in the nick of time.

All right. Change of plans. “Let’s see how you like this,” he muttered. He slammed his foot on the gas pedal and aimed for Dietrich’s Land Rover, which still balanced on its side.

Dietrich’s men realized too late what he intended. They brought their weapons around, but the Hummer hit their vehicle broadside before they could fire. The Land Rover toppled back onto all four wheels, trapping the men underneath.

Before he ran anyone over—he wanted Dietrich and his men alive for questioning—Max hit the brakes and put the Hummer into reverse. Then he drove around the damaged Land Rover. Dietrich lay on the ground a few feet away. Johann knelt by his boss, holding a handkerchief to Dietrich’s head.

Max pulled into position where he had a clear shot at Dietrich.

Another of Dietrich’s guards crawled out from underneath the Land Rover, his bloody hand clutching his weapon.

Max raised the window on his door—the reinforced glass was still intact and would give him some protection—opened the door to use as a shield, then hauled himself to his feet. Bracing his hips against the door, he aimed his rifle at Dietrich, but spoke to the guard. “Drop your weapon, lie face down, and put your hands on the back of your head.”

Emily’s Hummer raced past him and came to a stop in a perfect flanking maneuver with the side of her vehicle closest to the group. She poked a rifle out of the passenger’s window and held it steady on the injured guard, using the lower half of her partially raised window as protection.