A/N: Thank you guys so much for the favorites and follows! Fair warning, though, this chapter is going to get dark and live up to the M rating. There's only one more chapter after this! I've started working on the Sequel to Don't Pry, for those of you who are anxiously awaiting that. Thanks for reading!
Deborah paced the basement like a restless panther. Barney's eyes followed her from his seat in the corner. Christmas was pale. He had torn the stitches in
his shoulder.
They had been there for several hours before the door opened and a troop of men came down. The leader was the same one who had held her at gunpoint
earlier.
"I'm flattered, Miss Martin that the CIA deigns us important enough to send a legend such as yourself," he said pleasantly. Deborah cocked a brow and
folded her arms across her chest. The man seemed annoyed that the zip ties no longer bound her.
"You can't really be surprised that zip ties don't hold a 'legend' like me," Deborah sneered. The man bristled.
"I had heard of your big mouth, Signorina, but perhaps you should learn to keep it closed. It may cost a life."
At that moment, a bound and gagged little girl appeared at the top of the steps. She was being frog marched by another goon.
Barney watched as Deborah's nonchalant mask slipped off. Worry flashed across her face and she shifted forward.
Deborah didn't take her eyes off of Natalia Karov.
"You're a sick bastard, using a child like this," Deborah seethed venomously. The mafia boss shrugged and smiled.
"What I want to know, Deborah, is why an upstanding mercenary such as yourself is so very concerned over the daughter of a Russian murderer. Truly,
Signorina, you treat me with so much scorn, is Ivan Karov not deserving of the same?"
Deborah said nothing. She kept her eyes on the scared little girl.
"So, I have to wonder, now, why you would bother saving his daughter."
She finally tore her eyes away and glared hard at the Italian.
"The child will not share the guilt of the parent. It says so in Ezekiel. You're a Catholic, aren't you?" Deborah asked coldly.
"Yes. But you are not. Which leads me to believe that you are being paid to do this job. Which means Ivan Karov has made some sort of deal. Every criminal
worth his salt knows that the CIA has you on retainer. So, that damn Ruskie is going to turn rat once you return his daughter to him. He has enough
knowledge to bring down the Chinese, the Irish, not to mention his own mob..And he could even bring us down."
Deborah had gotten pale.
"So, you see, while I hold you in the highest regard for your unbending loyalty to all the forgotten children in the world, I cannot have you succeed in this
mission."
Barney rose, worry on his face. Deborah was as white as a sheet as she stared down the Italian.
"Don't. Don't do this," she implored through tight lips, "You can kill me and send them back home. They don't give a shit about this job. They won't come
sniffing around."
Barney flinched. So that's what Deborah thought of his dedication? That this job was just another paycheck? Did she really think he did not care about what
would happen to the young girl?
The Italian shook his head and gestured for the young girl to be brought forward. Deborah lunged, but two goons caught her around the waist, pinning her
arms behind her.
"Tell her to be brave, Signorina," the Italian leered. Deborah locked eyes with Natalia.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered.
The crack of the gunshot made Barney close his eyes.
"It's nice ta finally meet the Lone Wolf's lass," Mickey shook Molly's hand firmly. She smirked.
"Word has it, Mr. O'Shea, that you're a batshit crazy Irishman who has God's ear," she replied. Mickey grinned widely.
"Oh, aye?"
Molly offered him a smirk as she laid the satellite images out.
"I got these from Church," she informed the group. "There's about fifty men there, but they could call in reinforcements. Which is why we need to drop this
as soon as we get in there. It's a signal jammer. Their phones won't work within a thousand yards," Molly gestured vaguely to the metal instrument.
"So, we get in there, kill the bastards, which shouldn't be too hard, find them, and get out," Molly said firmly.
"And what about Natalia Karov?" Mickey question, hand hand latched around his rosary. Molly's eyes lingered on him for a moment too long.
"We'll search the house, and if she's not there, we'll come back to the plane and figure it out. I'm sorry, Mickey, but my priority is Barney, Christmas, and
Deborah. They're the girl's best hope."
The Irishman nodded once.
Barney felt like throwing up. Deborah was absolutely coated with the blood spatter. Natalia's blood.
The woman had screamed and cursed and kicked like a banshee as the little girl had fallen, bullet in the back of her head.
And Barney and Christmas had been helpless to do anything as the Italian pistol whipped Deborah into some semblance of submission. They had left her in a
bloody heap on the floor.
It hadn't taken long for her to regain her senses, though. She had simply knelt by the girl's body, staring unblinking at the vacant brown eyes.
Christmas had said nothing. Barney glanced at the Brit. His eyes were over bright and his jaw was set.
Barney was about to say something when gunfire came from upstairs. Deborah glanced up at the ceiling, her expression empty.
"Looks like the cavalry's come," Barney rose to his feet.
Gunnar, Mickey, and Toll flooded downstairs, their guns lifted. Mickey dropped his gun, letting his sling catch it, when he saw his Texan on the floor.
He made the sign of the cross over himself before dropping a hand onto her shoulder. Her green eyes stared up at him. Deborah swallowed hard.
"Easy, lass," he said gently, "We've got ta get out of here, yeah?" Deborah shook her head.
"I'm not leaving her, Mick," she said, her voice hoarse. The Irishman nodded, not skipping a beat.
"I didn't think ye would. Gunnar, ye want ta give me a hand?" Mickey knelt and pulled a rough woolen blanket from his pack. He didn't miss the way Deborah
flinched.
After Mickey wrapped up Natalia's body in the makeshift shroud, the blond giant, with surprising gentleness, picked her up.
"Let's go, fellas!"
Barney cursed at that voice.
"You called Molly?!"
