A/N With apologies to Firebird for the ending of the previous chapter ... here is the ending it should have had, had I been less lazy/impatient ... not quite the end though ...
The Lexus was pulled up close to the front of the building, the driver's side door still hung open as if ready for the driver to jump back in. At least that was how it seemed to Millie. Her overriding desire was to get into the desolate looking pub and drag out the bastard with her bare hands before he had the chance. During the long minutes of the chase, she had run the gamut of her emotions. Shock, loss, fear, resentment and had firmly arrived at cold, determined fury. Max seemed to give up telling her to wait and instead resorted to physically holding her back so that he could give some degree of protection from herself.
A muffled shriek leaked from the building. Max heard it first and lurched forward a step, holding Millie's hand tightly in his, keeping her behind him. But he was stopped in his tracks by the appearance of a woman, dishevelled, scared and clearly disorientated. Out from shadows behind her, Antonov finally came into view. For the first time, the man who had wrought such havoc in the space of less than a week became more than some sort of ghostly presence from the past. Suddenly he was completely real.
In one hand he held a gun to Sondra's head, the other hand cruelly holding her by the neck, forcing her head to tilt down towards the ground. Her arms were pinned behind her back, presumably tied to prevent any kind of effective struggle. The gun glinted maliciously in the unforgiving sunlight as he waved it in their direction. Instinctively, Max made to step back but clashed with Millie as she surged forward.
"Mum!"
Sondra jerked her head back at the sound of Millie's anguished voice and gave a terrified cry that tore into Millie's heart. This woman could not look less like her wonderfully composed and always immaculately dressed mother. Her hair, always so perfectly styled, whether loose or in a classic chignon, hung raggedly over her face. She was deathly pale, tired, and somehow frighteningly aged in the space of just a few days.
Antonov faltered, recognising the daughter of his one true love, perhaps the daughter he had earlier asserted that he should have had. His mouth opened wordlessly, the gun drooping just a fraction. Max sensed an opportunity but before he could act, his opponents top lip curled into a maniacal snarl. He growled, his nostrils flaring, but Millie was immune.
"Let her go!" she roared.
"Get away or I will kill her and then you." He jabbed the gun into Sondra's temple, dragging her with him towards the Lexus, her feet stumbling, desperate to reach out to her daughter while anxious to secure her safety.
She whimpered, frightened not for herself, but for the precious life of her eldest child. "Please, Millie, darling. Do what he says. He won't hurt me if you do what he says," she pleaded hoarsely.
Millie could only watch in horror as the crazed man dragged her mother nearer and nearer to the car until he was close enough to yank open the rear door and force her in to lie awkwardly across the back seats, her hands still bound behind her back. The gun was now trained on Millie as Antonov slammed the door, imprisoning Sondra yet again. He snarled at Millie, a guttural warning not to take another step. "Do not follow," he instructed monstrously and for the first time, she had the opportunity to squarely face him, to study him, if only for this briefest moment. A long scar framed his face on one side, pulling down the corner of his mouth, intensifying the cruelty in his warning. All the trials and tribulations of loving Max were put into perspective by the bleakness this man represented. A chill wave sickeningly ran through her, where was Max? No longer could she feel him by her side, the strength of his body and presence was gone. She was torn, torn between spinning round to find him but unable to take her eyes off Antonov, perhaps in the forlorn hope that there might be a weakness she might exploit. But there was nothing, he had the gun and insanity in his expression left her in no doubt that he would do as he threatened. Already with two deaths on his hands, hers would certainly mean nothing to him.
He slowly backed into the open driver's side door and slid round it into the car, pulling the door shut with him. Frantically, Millie looked round, where the hell was Max? Where had he gone and why wasn't he doing something? Anything? The engine started and with a screech shot backwards and away from Millie. She stood powerless to do anything, utterly bewildered at having found her mother only to immediately lose her again.
While Antonov had eyes only for the two redheaded women, Max slipped away, feeling certain that his own presence had been barely registered. The gun was warming in his hand, gradually becoming part of him, despite having initially felt so alien. It was a familiar feeling, the reassurance of a firearm, or rather the reassurance that he could do this, that this was his territory. He'd done it before and he'd always be able to do it again. Had negotiation been on the cards, he might have felt a whole lot less confident. Fortunately, Antonov wasn't the negotiating type.
The Vauxhall didn't entirely hide him but it gave just enough camouflage to buy Max some time and space. The Lexus shot past, swerving back in an arc towards the perimeter wall and then forwards. Max stepped out from behind the car, thanking Georgie for being too flash for tinted windows, for always wanting to be seen at the wheel of his golden chariot. The view was perfect. The gun pointed out from Max's hands, steady, no display of nerves because there were none. Antonov stared over the steering wheel at him but then the car then suddenly swerved again, this time to the left in the direction of the exit of the car park. Max cursed as he was forced to re-evaluate and alter his aim. The shot burst into the air, ripping into the front tyre of the Lexus and sending it careening off at a tangent and mounting the broken down wall to the side of the exit. It rocked precariously on a high pile of bricks, steam rising from the crumpled bonnet, water already dripping from the punctured radiator. Max cautiously closed in on the wreck, the gun still cradled in his outstretched hands.
Inside, the air bag had inflated, pinning Antonov in his seat. Through the window, Max could see he was dazed, rubbing at his head with one hand while staring murderously at Max. But then slowly, so slowly, his other hand came into view and with it his gun. It was all the encouragement Max needed. Remembering standard procedure, he shouted at Antonov to put the gun down, yet without the slightest belief that he would do so. Without any desire for him to do so. There was only one way for this to go.
Millie watched, transfixed with horror as another shot punched into the silence. She lurched forward as Max reeled backward a half step, her momentum still carrying her forward as two further shots rang out. It was impossible to tell who fired first, all she could see was that Max was injured, blood already stained his shirt sleeve but still he stood. Then he took a step forward and by the time Millie reached his side he was already yanking open the rear door allowing the sound of weak, whimpering cries to pour out.
Together they pulled Sondra from the car, and while she stood shuddering with shock, Max freed her hands from the tight bond which had rubbed her wrists almost raw. Millie pulled her to her feet, holding her tightly, fearing that if she didn't, her mother might be spirited away, out of her reach once again. The thought jarred and Millie looked over her mother's shoulder anxiously. Immediately her sharpened gaze found Max watching them. He shook his head, answering her silent panicked enquiry, and leant back against the car in relief as Millie turned her attention back to comforting Sondra. His upper arm throbbed painfully and after awkwardly pushing the gun back into the waist of his jeans, he clamped a hand down on the injury, grimacing at the blood seeping stickily between his fingers. The car hissed angrily, reminding them all that the threat of danger was not entirely eradicated and slowly, just as an area car came into view, Max guided the only two women he could truly say he loved towards safety.