Chapter Forty
The terror in Isa’s voice would have enraged most men, causing them to charge like a fireman into a burning house. It had the opposite effect on Flynn. It calmed him. Gave him the laser focus he needed to destroy the threat and retrieve the single most important thing in his life. The one thing he’d gladly walk into a bullet for.
All his years of training had prepared him for this moment. Failure was not an option.
He drove past the residence, noting the beefy bald driver on the porch and the sleek black town car out front. Pulling over, three houses up, he advised the task force, “Three-story red brick with the town car.”
“Hold your position until backup are on scene! I repeat, hold your position!” Justin ordered.
There was no time to wait, Bushnik would be coming out the front door with Pink any minute and once they left the house, it would be more difficult to control the situation. Flynn was going in.
He tucked the cell into his breast pocket without responding, but kept the ear buds in place, continuing to receive critical intel via Pink’s transmissions. Flynn knew she was terrified, he wished there was a way to calm her without giving his position away but that wasn’t possible.
Turning off the SUV, Flynn reached up and turned the dome light switch off. He opened the car door, got out, and then quietly eased the door almost closed. Crouching, he moved around to the front of the vehicle on the sidewalk side and observed the house. The driver hadn’t moved.
Maintaining a low profile, Flynn hugged the neatly manicured hedges and fences of the quiet residential street, careful not to trip over the few newspapers littering the sidewalk as he made his way just in front of Boris’s home. The big driver held the high ground on the small porch atop a wide stairway. Flynn quickly devised a little neighborhood shock-and-awe plan.
Backpedaling, he retrieved one of the newspapers, and then advanced on the brick house. Tossing the paper to the far side of Boris’s yard, Flynn momentarily distracted the driver’s gaze and rushed the porch. Taking the steps two at a time, Flynn ascended to the next to last step as the man spun to meet him and lunged forward. Lowering his shoulder and propelling himself forward, Flynn collided with the hefty man mid-thigh and, thrusting upward, flipped him over his back and onto the stairs. He could hear the thuds as the body rolled down to the sidewalk behind him.
Grimacing, Flynn rotated his banged-up shoulder as he turned to observe the still body of the driver sprawled out cold across the pavement below. The cavalry rounded the corner. There was no time to wait.
Pulling his pistol from his waist holster, Flynn crouched and slowly opened the front door.
He was immediately met with gunfire. Dropping to the floor, Flynn rolled, shooting one of Bushnik’s bodyguards, and then the other.
Isa’s screams alerted him to her position. Looking past the still bodies, down the hallway next to the staircase, he saw Bushnik dragging her, kicking and screaming, behind him.
“Bushnik!” Flynn yelled, standing and rushing past the dead guards, giving chase. “Let her go and I let you go!”
The Russian moved faster, dragging Pink with him. Flynn hurried after them. As he reached the end of the hall, the unmistakable sound of automatic machinegun fire erupted, bullets tearing into the wood and plaster of the wall and molding to Flynn’s right.
Ducking back around the edge of the stairway, Flynn waited for Bushnik to either reload or keep moving.
“Let me go, you Russian asshole!” Pink screamed. “Or I’m going to bring hell down on you!”
Gun at the ready, finger on the trigger, Flynn flew down the now-empty hall and rounded the corner, only to find himself alone in an unlit kitchen.
“Bushnik have no place to go now,” Andre the Giant said from behind Flynn.
Flynn spun around so quickly, he slammed into the wall behind him. Arms extended in a double grip, he looked down the barrel at the giant Russian.
“Hands up, now! Let me see your hands!” Flynn commanded.
“No gun,” Andre said, lifting his hands for Flynn to see. The giant looked past him to the doorway.
“How do you know Bushnik has no way out?” Flynn asked.
Andre casually stepped past Flynn and led him through the dark kitchen to the back door, where he looked out. “Is big yard, but no way out. Stairs to basement under porch. Basement walled off. No out. I think Bushnik go there, da?” Andre’s meaty paw crossed in front of Flynn as he motioned to the door.
“Why should I trust you?” Flynn asked, not lowering his gun.
“Bushnik kill Boris. Boris was friend.” His eyes narrowed. “I like your Pink lady, too.”
“Put your hands on top of your head and slowly walk back to the front door. Don’t open the door. Wait for the cops to do it and follow their orders. Do whatever they say or they’ll shoot you,” Flynn directed.
“Sure,” Andre said, placing his hands on top of his head and slowly padded his way out of the kitchen.
Flynn peered into the backyard through the curtains of the window next to the door as he listened for any clues from Pink. She was eerily silent. Dropping down, he slowly opened the door and listened. It was quiet. Deadly quiet. Unlacing his shoes, he removed them and set them aside as he crept onto the porch. Scanning left, then right, then left again, he made his way out.
The enclosed backyard was large with high shrubs bordering the walls and a large spruce tree dead center. Decorative benches and potted plants punctuated the area. Flynn noted the height of the walls and realized Andre had been right. With no adequate hiding place in the yard, Bushnik would have taken Pink down the basement stairwell.
Flynn descended the stairs and looked for the basement access. Locating the well, he moved into position and took a quick peek. Moving back to safety, he processed what he’d seen in the darkness. A steep stairwell leading to a door.
Another swift glance confirmed his initial assessment. Gun first, Flynn entered the stairwell and slowly took it one silent step at a time.
Above him in the distance, Flynn heard the muffled order “Get down on your knees!” being shouted at Andre.
Reaching the bottom of the damp stairwell, Flynn noted the broken windowpane and wished he had left his shoes on. In a crouch position, he inched the door open and scanned what he could of the expansive room. Old furniture, the furnace, and stacked cardboard boxes competed for space. Too many hiding places.
Once again, motionless, he listened.
Only the low hum of the furnace disturbed the silence.
Moving to the hinged side of the door, avoiding the broken shards of glass, Flynn entered the room.
He waited momentarily, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The LED control panel of the furnace gave off an eerie illumination that helped him navigate the room.
“I have the girl,” Bushink abruptly announced, deep in the darkness. “I will not hesitate to kill her.”
Moving sideways to slide behind a large armoire, Flynn called back, “There’s no way out, Bushnik. Give it up while you still can. There’s no reason for anyone, yourself included, to die tonight.”
As he spoke, Flynn covertly adjusted his position to the other side of the armoire. He could just hear Bushnik and Pink’s last movement to the right of him under the noise of his reply.
Pink’s muffled warning under Bushnik’s hand was enough to clue Flynn in that Bushnik was moving them closer, into the dim light of the furnace to his right.
“I don’t plan on dying tonight, Special Agent.” The Russian laughed arrogantly and asked, “Can you live with the death of your girl?”
The soles of Bushnik’s shoes and Pink’s heels shuffled closer to the furnace. Flynn could barely make out the top of the Russian’s head. Just a few more feet and he would be able to see them more clearly. And take his shot. Flynn raised his weapon, using both hands for optimal control, aimed it toward the furnace, and waited.
Long minutes dragged out. The only sound was his heartbeat in his ears and Pink’s muffled cries.