Page 116 of Locked and Loaded

For several long seconds no one moved.

Lennox's eyes never left Dragan's. She looked utterly exhausted. Defeated. Slowly, almost reluctantly, her fingers loosened around the handle of the knife. The blade struck the polished stone with a sharp metallic clatter.

Nobody breathed.

Georgiou glanced down at it. Then back at Lennox. The smallest smile spread across his face. Not relief. Triumph. He thought she'd broken. He thought he'd won.

Dragan raised his pistol again. "One last chance." Georgiou sneered at him. "Tell us where Chloe Crowe is."

The older man smoothed the front of his tuxedo as though nothing of consequence had happened. "I'm afraid I can't help you."

"You can."

"I assure you”—his smile widened—"I cannot." He dabbed the wound on his neck with a monogrammed handkerchief.

Dragan held his gaze. "This is the last opportunity you’ll have to save your own life."

"My life?" Georgiou almost laughed. "Look around you." He nodded toward the shattered doorway. "My security is already here." Outside, more footsteps pounded through the building. Voices. Shouting. Everything was unraveling. "You've already lost," Georgiou continued quietly. "You just don't know it yet."

Valardi glanced at Dragan and gave a slight nod. More of Georgiou’s security was coming.

Dragan's finger remained steady on the trigger. "I won’t ask again."

Georgiou's eyes shifted to Lennox. His expression changed. His face filled with contempt. "You know..." he said softly, "your sister cried just as much as you do."

Everything stopped.

Lennox froze. The color drained from her face.

Dragan felt the air leave the room.

Georgiou smiled. Cold. Cruel. Satisfied. "She called your name. She called for her sister."

"Lennox," Dragan warned.

She wasn't listening. Her entire body had gone rigid. Georgiou took one slow step toward her.

"She begged, in fact." Another step. "Perhaps—" Without warning, he exploded forward. His hand shot toward Lennox's throat.

Dragan had already decided. The shot echoed through the corridor. Georgiou's head snapped violently backward. His body collapsed before momentum even finished carrying him forward, crashing onto the marble floor in an untidy heap.

Silence.

Lennox stared. Not at Georgiou. At Dragan.

He lowered the pistol slowly. "I asked him," he said simply, his voice muted. "I gave him every chance." He stepped over Georgiou's body and stopped in front of Lennox. “You all right?"

She looked down at the dead man.

"I..." Her voice disappeared.

Dragan gently took the knife from where it still lay beside her foot. "I told you he wasn't worth it."

Behind them, Valardi holstered his pistol and looked at the body. "Well," he said dryly, "that certainly simplified the problem."

Dragan ignored him. His attention remained entirely on Lennox. She was shaking now. Not because Georgiou was dead. Because she'd been one heartbeat away from killing him herself.

Dragan reached out carefully and rested one hand against the side of her face. "You didn't."