Page 91 of Fearless

This had to be Serena’s people. OZ had come for their jewel. Well, that jewel was tarnished and barely functional. He couldn’t be happier about that. He should’ve told the soldier to go downstairs and shoot her before they could find her. It was too late now. He’d worry about her later. For now, he needed to leave.

Crawling into the small area, he closed the door and pressed a button. The compartment zoomed to the roof, where his helicopter pilot would be waiting for him. That was always the plan. At the first sign of attack, the pilot would run to the chopper, fire it up, and wait on Colton.

The compartment arrived at the rooftop with a thud. Colton pressed another button, and the small door opened. He peered out. Though still dark, he could easily see the massive helicopter several yards away, the rotor blades already whirling.

Bag in hand, he took off toward the chopper. He could hear distant explosions and the occasional blast of a gun. They weren’t close enough to storm the mansion yet. He had plenty of time to get away.

Halfway across the roof, he heard another noise, this one was much closer. Looking up, he spotted a helicopter headed toward the roof. It was so close, he could see the two people inside. A man was piloting the chopper, and a woman sat beside him. She was holding a long-range rifle pointed at him!

His heart in his throat, Colton ran faster. He heard a zing, and pieces of concrete exploded in front of him. She was shooting at him!

Feeling as though his heart would explode, Colton screamed at his pilot, “Shoot them! Shoot them down!”

Gunter Petrov, a former Russian pilot, had appeared for an interview with his very own Ka-52 Alligator helicopter and a résumé packed with successful kills. Delighted, Colton had hired him on the spot.

Gunter was shaking his head and shouting something. Colton couldn’t hear him, but there was no time to argue. Five seconds from jumping into the chopper, he felt a sting in his right hip. He told himself it was just a pulled muscle. It had to be. With one last, fighting gasp of air, Colton threw himself into the chopper.

“Go! Go!” he screamed.

The chopper rose into the air. The noise was so deafening, he couldn’t understand anything his pilot was saying. He knew he should grab a headset, but right now he could concentrate only on the enemy helicopter that was obviously going to follow them and the long-range rifle that still had him in its sights.

A headset slapped him in the face. Any other time, Colton would be incensed at the audacity, but now he was grateful, because the instant he donned the headset, his pilot said, “Hang on. I’ve got to get up higher to shoot them down.”

Unable to climb up on the seat to buckle himself in, Colton leaned against the seat and grabbed on tight. The chopper whirled up and swerved. He heard pings and knew Gunter was making evasive moves to avoid gunfire. Then he heard a squealing, massive noise and watched as the helicopter attacking them dropped from the sky. Gunter had hit them. They were going down!

While he wanted to watch it explode, he knew they needed to leave before they were attacked again.

“Let’s get out of here!”

Gunter turned the chopper toward the ocean. Colton looked back, and though he was relieved that no one followed them, he watched in real time as his dreams were destroyed right before his eyes.

Either Serena had somehow betrayed him, or Sean Donavan had remembered the location and had waited two months to rescue his wife. Neither option seemed plausible. Not that it mattered. Everything was destroyed. His life as he’d known it was over.

He had contingency plans in place for such an event, but he had never planned to use them. At least not until years from now. Now he had no choice.

He would not rest until he destroyed the people who had destroyed his dreams.

Sean and Serena Donavan would pay with their lives.

The deeper into the darkness that Sean went, the harder his heart thudded. What would he find here? The only light came from his flashlight. The moment he stepped down into the dungeon, his breath caught in his throat. A small, curled-up figure lay on a filthy, bloodstained cot in the very same cell where he had once been tortured. He would recognize that tangle of golden-brown hair anywhere. It was Serena.

“Serena…baby,” he whispered gruffly.

She didn’t move for a moment, and he had the awful, hideous thought that she was dead. But then, finally but oh-so-slowly, she raised her head slightly. “Sean?”

Rushing forward, he reached out his hand for her. She moved almost cautiously, as if she wasn’t sure he was really there. Thundering fury flooded through him. Her face was covered in bruises. She had been beaten.

Reining in the furious emotions, he said, “Stand back. I’ve got to get the door open.”

“No need. It’s not locked.”

Puzzled, he pulled gently at the door. She was right. His eyes roamed the lock and the opening. He wouldn’t put it past Kingsley to have an explosive attached.

“It’s not booby-trapped,” Serena said in a hoarse, soft voice. “They know I can’t walk.”

Pulling the door open, Sean rushed into the cell and knelt in front of her. “How bad are you hurt?”

“Mostly bruises. I think my ankle is broken, though.”