Alex POV


It wasn't fine.

Not even close.

And it was so far from what I'd expected that my mind was having trouble keeping up.

Because honestly, I'd pondered various scenarios. Every good cop does that kind of thing.

Preparedness is vital and so I worked very hard to be very prepared.

In fact, Bobby and I had discussed possible outcomes long into the night.

"Do what Maas said," he'd told me quietly.

We'd come back to the hotel and then we'd thoroughly exhausted each other physically to the point where neither of us could move.

We were lying sideways across the bed on just the sheet. The rest of the covers had fallen off the foot of the bed during our hour-long session that had started in the bathroom, moved to the dresser, and then ended up here.

There was a broken lamp somewhere in between, but we'd worry about that tomorrow.

Or the next day.

For now, I was content to lay on my stomach with my cheek resting on Bobby's arm. With his other hand, he idly played with the ends of my hair.

The action was soothing and a direct contradiction to the seriousness of our discussion.

"You mean run if it goes bad?"

"Absolutely."

"Bobby…"

"I mean it. I want to catch him just as much as you do, but he's been eluding us for a year. Another week or another month isn't really going to make that much difference, is it?"

"No," I agreed. "But I can't imagine a scenario where it goes so bad that I run."

"If he turns on you…if he makes you as setting him up…if he thinks you're bluffing about the evidence…"

"You'll be there. If any of those things happen, you'll hear him and you'll take him out," I reminded him confidently.

"I'm just saying…"

"I know," I conceded at last.

I could understand his worry. I just didn't feel it myself.

We'd looked at this every way possible.

We had it covered.

Except we didn't.

As I stood in the storage facility, disarmed and held by the throat with my back up against the chest of Hassan, I realized how grossly we'd underestimated two of the players in this show.

Of course that realization was of little help now.

Because me, being held hostage, wasn't in the playbook.

But then again, neither was Logan getting shot.

Or Maas.

From my position, I couldn't see either of them. I'd seen Maas go down and a minute later, I'd heard Bobby call out Logan's name, but they were now all three hidden amidst the boats which lined the wall of the building.

Dorsey was dead at my feet.

Semere was face-down, possibly dead, halfway between us and the stash of boats where Bobby was taking cover with our injured counterparts.

Gino stood next to Hassan.

He had my gun in one hand and a Tec-9 in the other.

"Give it up, Goren!" Hassan called out.

"I don't think so, Hassan," Bobby answered. His voice sounded tight and strained and I felt panic rush through me at the unknown status of my friends.

"What do you think you're going to do? Single-handedly stop me from walking out of here with that shipment of weapons? That's never going to happen. Be smart, Goren, and walk away. There's no need for you to risk your life over this cheap piece of trash."

"I'm not walking away. Now let her go."

Hassan laughed and squeezed tighter, putting more pressure against my windpipe.

"Why would I let her go? I've got you outgunned and outmanned. I think I'll keep her as my reward."

"Reward for what?"

"For figuring out your game. And for beating the almighty feds. Now I've got the guns, my freedom, and your woman. I'd say it's a good day to be me."

And I had to give him that.

He'd figured us out.

But that was my fault.

I never once considered the possibility that Hassan would bug his own man.

He'd heard my conversation with Gino yesterday. He knew I'd tried to throw doubt on him.

So when I arrived, he'd reached out to shake my hand. When I grabbed the offered hand, he'd held on tight, pulling me to him.

"Never talk to my men without my permission," he'd said in a soft and yet menacing voice. Then he pulled back his jacket to show me what was underneath. He was wired with explosives. "Now, since I can't trust you, I was forced to take an extra precaution. Hand over your weapon to Gino and then we'll finish this deal. If you are who you claim to be then everything will be fine."

I complied, giving Gino my gun.

"And the knife," he added with a knowing grin. "I wouldn't want you to try to cut off any of my appendages."

I gave Gino the knife, which he tucked into his jacket pocket and then Hassan pulled me back against him.

And then he'd given the order.

He'd had Dorsey and Gino open fire around the perimeter of the room, sending a hailstorm of bullets into the boats where Bobby and Logan and Maas were hiding.

I could only guess that he wanted to test Gino, to make sure he was still on his side, while at the same time luring out the back up.

And they'd had no choice but to return fire. Although considering my position, they had to be careful so as not to catch me in the crossfire.

But still, the firefight had devastating effects. Dorsey went down quickly and so did Maas, followed by Semere and Logan until at last, Gino stopped shooting.

Once he quit, the room fell silent.

"It's a good day to be you, huh, boss?" Gino repeated.

I cut my eyes over to him, trying to get a read on his state of mind.

Had he given any more thought to what I'd said to him?

"That's what I said, Gino," Hassan replied. "Now go fish the keys out of Semere's pocket. You take the truck. Get me Dorsey's keys, too. Alexandra is going to drive me out of here."

"What about Goren?"

"He's not going to do anything. Not while I've got her."

Gino took two steps forward and then stopped and turned around. He stood directly in front of us, facing me and Hassan.

"I don't think so," he said, shaking his head.

And then from nowhere, five members of the Toscano outfit walked up behind him, all equally armed to the teeth.

"What is the meaning of this?" Hassan asked loudly, squeezing me even harder.

"We know what you did," Gino said. "Now let the agent go. This isn't her fight."

"She came here of her own accord. She filled your head with some kind of nonsense that has you questioning my authority. This is definitely her fight."

"Uh uh," Gino replied, shaking his head. "We don't kill feds."

"You might not, but I do," Hassan said, tugging on me so that I had to walk backwards with him. "If you want me, you're going to have to shoot through her."

"Hassan, let her go," Bobby yelled out again.

This time he'd changed positions and was now circling around to the side. Some of Gino's men were fanning out, too.

"I'll blow us all up," he asserted. "What do I care?"

"Nobody's going to kill anybody," Bobby said. "Just let her go and then we can talk about this."

"What's there to talk about?"

"We don't want to kill you, Hassan," Gino said with a grin. "We just want to let the feds take you in. We want to see you punished for what you did. You killed Bruto."

"What? You don't know that!"

"I heard her in the car," he continued. "She commented on your ring and then all of a sudden you started talking."

See? He was the second person I underestimated. Even though I hoped my words might make him question Hassan, I never expected he'd call in for reinforcements.

"Why is that, Hassan? Huh?" Gino taunted. "What is it about that ring?"

Hassan changed tactics.

"Bruto was beating the woman I loved. What would you have done?"

"So you admit it," another man said carefully. "You killed the son of Alfredo Toscano."

"It was three years ago," he fired back. "Get over it."

"Get over it?" Gino yelled back, taking a couple of steps closer so that he was right in front of us.

In fact, he was so close that his jacket was brushing against me. He flickered his eyes briefly to mine and then settled his gaze on Hassan, all the while continuing to push against me.

Because my hands were free.

And while Gino continued to spout off obscenities and accusations at Hassan, he practically put my knife on a silver platter.

It was just a matter of sliding my hand into his pocket and grabbing hold of the weapon, which already had the blade extended.

I pulled it back out as Gino finished his rant.

He took a step back, theatrically expressing his frustration, presumably in an effort to keep Hassan's attention, and then he suddenly came to a stop.

He tossed my gun onto the floor, kicking it over near the side wall, and then slowly raised the Tec-9 and pointed it at Hassan's head.

"I'm pretty sure that I can hit you without touching a hair on her head," he said boldly.

He tilted his head to one side and made a show out of squinting one eye and looking through the weapon's sights.

Hassan nervously heaved me up a little higher in an effort for more of my head to block his. By this point I was standing on my toes and I had to keep doing it in order to be able to breathe.

"Yeah, I can make that shot," Gino continued. "So this is the last time I'm gonna say it nice. Fucking let her go."

Bobby was inching in from the side, but his course of action would be limited.

He wouldn't shoot and risk the bullet going through Hassan and into me.

And for now, Hassan's focus was on Gino.

I knew that if I could get Hassan to loosen his grip on me then I could duck down out of the way and any number of people would have a shot at Hassan.

Of course, the bomb was also a concern.

I hadn't seen a detonator or a timer when he'd showed me what he had strapped to his chest.

He probably had a switch of some sort if his pocket, which meant that if I got away, and he wasn't taken out immediately, he could push it and then we'd all be dead.

I clutched the knife tightly in my hand and debated my best course of action.

If I stabbed him in the arm, he'd undoubtedly let go, but the pre-strike motion would be more noticeable.

I'd have to depend on a quick attack and it would be an awkward angle.

On the other hand, if I went for the thigh, I'd have a better chance of causing a deep, penetrating wound.

But would he still instantly let go?

Probably. But was probably good enough?

Right now, it had to be.

I couldn't see Bobby's eyes from where I was standing and I really wished that I could. Partly because I wanted to be doing this with him and partly because if something went wrong…well, I couldn't think like that.

I had a job to do and I needed someone to help me do it.

And since I couldn't use Bobby, I was going to have to depend on Gino.

It was a scary thought, but at the same time, he'd given me back my knife.

And he'd brought back-up.

I stared hard at him, willing him to look at me.

He finally did and so I dropped my eyes quickly in the direction of my knife and then brought my gaze back to his.

And then I mouthed my countdown.

Three.

Two.

One.

TBC...