“No. I won’t beg.” She shoved back with her elbow as hard as she could. He grunted, and his hold loosened. That little bit of slack was all she needed. Cassidy ducked, dropping right from under his arm. The knife sliced over her, but she didn’t care.
“Cassidy!” Cale’s bellow. His footsteps thundered up the stairs.
She swiped out with her hand and yanked the ski mask off the man who’d held her. The man who spoke of Helen’s death so callously.
The Executioner.
His men were crowding in behind him. Some held guns. Some had no weapons at all.
She ignored them.
Hurry, Mercer, hurry.
Cassidy stared up at the monster who’d haunted so many of her dreams. Only he didn’t look like a monster.
Under the bright light, his blond hair gleamed. His face was handsome, cut in smooth, clean lines. He could have been any man that she’d met at a dozen parties.
He should have looked as evil as he was.
He offered her a smile. “Not what you expected, am I?” He lifted his knife, a knife red from her blood. “Don’t worry. By the time I’m finished, you’ll have changed your mind.”
“No!” Cale’s voice. He burst from the basement. “You won’t be—”
An alarm sounded, then, the shrill cry echoing through the building, and that jarring sound was a relief to Cassidy. The most beautiful sound that she’d ever heard.
If the alarm was sounding, then that meant...
“He was followed!” the Executioner cried. “Damn it, we have to—”
Gunfire exploded. Only the gunfire didn’t come from the weapons that the Executioner’s men held. The bullets hit the Executioner’s men, taking them out.
The Executioner reached for Cassidy, but Cale was there, shoving him back, driving his weapon at the blond man even as the Executioner sliced with his own blade.
The scent of blood deepened.
And the gunshots kept blasting.
The Executioner stumbled back. He stared down at his blood-covered chest in shock. “No, not to me...” He lifted his weapon once more. “You don’t stop—”
Bullets slammed into his exposed chest. One hit. Two. Three. He jerked back with each impact, as if he were a puppet being yanked on a string. Blood dripped from his mouth. His eyes went wide, then he fell back, slamming into the floor.
His men—those still alive, anyway—began firing back at their assailants. A bullet blazed just past Cassidy’s arm, so close that she felt the burn on her skin.
Then Cale was there, shielding her, rushing her toward the door on the right. He made sure his body covered hers for every step that they took.
He ripped open the door.
Over his shoulder, she saw men coming from the shadows. Men who moved with a lethal precision that marked them as hunters. She counted four—no, five of them.
“Cassidy?”
The voice came from inside the room that she and Cale had just entered. It was weak and scared...and the whispery voice belonged to Genevieve.
Cassidy rushed toward her. Genevieve was tied to a chair. Her friend was sobbing, shaking. She’d nearly managed to break free from her bonds; the rope was barely clinging to her wrists.
Cale cut through the remaining rope with the glass he still held. Just a piece of glass, but it was a weapon he’d used with brutal efficiency time and again.
“What’s happening?” Genevieve demanded as she reached for Cassidy. “Those shots...” Tears leaked down her cheeks. “Are we going to die?”
“No.” Cale’s voice was certain. “I’m getting you both out of here.”
She believed him. After the way she’d seen him take down those men—just with that shard of glass—she was ready to believe that Cale could do anything.
The door flew open behind them.
Cale spun, body tensing, as he faced the new threat.
Cassidy recognized the man in the doorway. Logan—Cale’s teammate.
“Figured you could use some backup about now.” Logan’s gaze slid to Cassidy, narrowed. “Apparently Mercer figured the same thing. He sent in a full detail with guns blazing.”
She could still hear those blazing guns.
Logan inclined his head when he noticed Genevieve’s huddled form. “You saved the girl.”
“And stopped the killer,” Cassidy said, straightening. The gunfire—it had just ended.
Genevieve’s cries deepened behind her.
“The Executioner is dead,” Cassidy told Logan.
“He’d be the blond out there,” Cale added. “The one with three bullets in his chest and his right shoulder carved open.”
“You do like to play rough,” Logan muttered.
“The bullets came from someone else. I’m guessing that full detail you mentioned, because I know Gunner would have only needed one shot.”
Genevieve grabbed for Cassidy’s arm. “Get me out of here!”
Cassidy nodded.
Logan checked behind him. Then he tapped a small, black headset at his ear. “Are we clear?” A pause. “Then I’m bringing them out.”
Cale reached for Cassidy’s left hand.
Did he stumble?
She studied his face. He was pale, far paler than she’d ever seen him before. “Cale needs help! He was shot.”
His fingers tightened on hers. “Baby, I got this.”
How could he sound so calm? So...certain?
But then they were being led back out of the room, and Genevieve’s cries grew worse at the sight that confronted her.
Blood. Death.
“I don’t know how he got these guys here so fast,” Logan mused as he surveyed the team that was making quick work of cleaning up the bloody scene. “I figured when I gave him the news that Mercer would track your unit, Cale, but then he already had these men just mere miles out as Gunner and I were getting into launch position.”
His unit? Oh, Cale had a tracker, too.
They didn’t know about her own device.
Because they didn’t know about her.
“Ma’am?”
Cassidy glanced up and saw a man standing before her. He had close-cropped, black hair and golden eyes. A long scar cut across his right cheek. He wore all black, and he had a gun holstered at his side. He offered his hand to her. “You’re supposed to come with me, Ms. Sherridan.”
Ms. Sherridan? That guy knew her better than that.
Cale immediately shoved that offered hand to the side. “The hell she is, Lancaster.”
So Cale knew him, too. Not surprising. Agent Lancaster had been with the EOD for a few years now.