Page 44 of Fearless Encounter
Carefully, she stepped inside, and the air turned colder as she descended the stone steps. Her senses were on high alert, every nerve ending tingling. She scanned the dimly lit surroundings, searching for any sign of other guards.
Inside, through the small opening in a door, she saw a figure bound to a chair. Her breath caught in her throat. It was Meg. Her friend’s face was pale, but she was alive. Brooke’s determination crystallized into fierce resolve.
Quickly, she scanned the area for any threats. Seeing no immediate danger, she edged closer to the door and whispered, “It’s me…Brooke.”
Meg’s eyes widened with recognition and hope. The sight gave Brooke the boost she needed. She had to get Meg out of there.
Brooke pressed her finger to her lips, signaling Meg to stay quiet, then hurried over to untie her. Her hands worked quickly,fingers fumbling slightly as she freed the knots binding Meg’s wrists and ankles.
Meg winced as she moved, her muscles stiff from being restrained. Brooke helped her up, her heart aching at the sight of her friend’s condition. Meg wrapped her arms around Brooke in a grateful hug, whispering, “Thank God you’re here. We must get out quickly, before the guard returns.”
There was no time for discussion. Brooke took charge, guiding Meg with urgency back toward the door. Just as they neared the exit, a noise echoed through the stairwell. Brooke’s heart skipped a beat. The guard—he must be back.
She hesitated, listening intently. The footsteps grew louder, confirming her fear. Swiftly, she hid behind the door, motioning for Meg to stand behind her. Then she slid the bench scraper out of her pocket. She held it tightly and took a breath to steady herself.
The guard stepped into the room, his gaze immediately landing on the empty chair where Meg had been. He paused, confusion flashing across his face. Before he could turn and react, Brooke sprang from her hiding place. In the life-and-death situation, her self-defense training kicked in—she’d learned the exterior jugular vein was vulnerable to penetration.
Holding the bench scraper in both hands, Brooke aimed with all the force she could muster for the vein in the left side of the guard’s neck—unprotected by bone. The sharp edge cut, and blood gushed. The guard emitted a guttural sound and thudded to the ground.
It was the distraction Brooke needed. She pushed Meg toward the hallway. “Run!”
Chapter 15
Brooke bolted from the room and up the stairs, right behind Meg. Fresh air hit her face—freedom within reach. But the getaway didn’t go as smoothly as she’d hoped. Two men blocked the path.
Meg faltered. “Daniel…”
“Well…what do we have here?” Daniel said, taking in the situation. He gave Brooke a condescending look. “You thinkyoucan save her?”
Brooke froze, trying to think of a way to escape.
“It must be my lucky day.” Daniel grinned. “The only witness has surrendered—not very smart of you, Brooke. Although you wouldn’t have escaped us for long.”
Then Daniel’s gaze shifted to the scraper in Brooke’s right hand, and she glanced down to see blood dripping from the edge. As if on cue, the bleeding guard staggered out of the mausoleum with one hand pressed against a bloody rag around his neck. He appeared disoriented. With a wave of his hand, Daniel dismissed him. “You’re useless.”
The other guard shouted an angry tirade in Russian, and his injured accomplice began walking to the parking lot in disgrace. Brooke didn’t waste any brainpower wondering where he would go.
Daniel waved toward Brooke. “Take that weapon from her.”
Before Brooke could dodge him, the Russian gripped her other wrist with viselike strength. She twisted her arm to get free, and in the process the scraper clattered to the ground. In the struggle, the guard grabbed her other wrist. His roughtreatment broke her tracker bracelet, and it fell on the grass by her feet.
Meg wasted no time snatching the bracelet from the ground. “Let her go.”
But the huge Russian tightened his grip around Brooke’s right arm. He pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at Meg. “Give that to me,” he said, his tone low and threatening.
Meg held up the bracelet. “You want this?” She stepped closer to the Russian. “Take it—but first,let her go.”
The air filled with tension as both stood frozen, waiting for the next move.
Daniel chuckled. “You think that you’re calling the shots? Just because you designed some fancy software?” He took a step closer to Meg, his demeanor predatory. “My Russian connection will demolish you without a thought, the instant we don’t need you anymore.”
“You’re only a coworker, Daniel,” she said confidently. “And you were never worth much. You have tostealbecause you can’t create anything of your own.” Daniel’s expression darkened, but Meg pressed on. “You’re a no-talent loser,” she said, pausing to let that sink in. “And everyone knows it.”
Rage twisted Daniel’s features as he lunged forward, seizing Meg by the arm. “You’ll find out in Russia just how much of a loser you really are,” he said, venom lacing his words. “Once you give us what we want, we’ll have no use for you.”
“You and your Russian criminal ring? You really think your boss won’t get rid of you just as easily?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. Then she laughed in his face. It was a bold move—an arrow aimed at Daniel’s fragile ego.
“Keep laughing, woman.” He tightened his grip on Meg’s arm.