Gina Takes Bangkok (The Femme Vendettas) (35 page)

Ryota’s eyes were fixed on the house. Where Tasanee was. Kannon had watched him closely, but so far Ryota hadn’t let his emotions interfere. Without turning from the house, Ryota said, “So how do we take it?”

Kannon studied the maps on his phone one more time to make sure he was properly oriented. He hated being unprepared. This was exactly what had happened at Triple 9 when they’d gone in too quickly. Only this time there wasn’t any choice. At any moment Ek might discover that Montri wasn’t under Wakai’s control, and Tasanee would be tossed to the rakshasas like meat to wild dogs. “I’m going to cross the field, then climb over the wall. On the other side should be a small courtyard. From there, I can get into the main building.”

Ryota’s lips thinned. He wanted in, Kannon knew. All his apprentice said was “And what about Jarun and me?”

“You two are going to circle around to the road and, very quietly, take out any guards they’ve posted. Then make your way to their vehicles and prepare an ambush. If they attempt to run, that’s where they’ll head.”

“And what if they have the girl?” asked Jarun.

“Then do whatever you have to do to keep them from driving away with her,” Kannon instructed. “It shouldn’t come to that.”

The two men nodded their understanding, and Kannon began to crawl through the field, allowing the tall, waving grass to conceal him as he inched forward.

The going was painfully slow; he constantly searched his surroundings as he advanced, and when he was halfway across he finally spotted something. There, in the shadows of a clump of bushes, was a rakshasa, all but invisible as he sat cross-legged, rifle in hand. There appeared to be only one of them.

Kannon froze, hunkered down and plotted out the field for every scrap of cover, then crept onwards. Foot by painful foot, he flanked the guard, edging out of the man’s field of vision until he was a scant twenty feet away. Carefully he leveled his silenced pistol.

Silencers themselves didn’t make a gun particularly quiet. As soon as a bullet surpassed the sound barrier it made a bang more than loud enough to raise an alarm. That’s why he made his own ammunition. The exact amount of gunpowder to bring the slug up to the threshold without breaking it. The result was a bullet that could only be used at close range, but was very, very quiet.

There was a soft pop, and the rakshasa fell backwards, a neat hole in his temple.

One last look around, and Kannon burst from his hiding place, reaching the wall in a few strides. His pistol in his belt, he scaled the wall, the missing bricks making the job easy, and poked his head over the top to survey the courtyard. Deserted.

Dropping down, he got to the nearest door. Kittyjack hadn’t been able to find any details of the interior, so from here on in he was working blind, his only advantage being that nobody knew he was there.

A gentle tug on the door. Unlocked. It creaked open and he slipped into the darkness.

Ek growled as he fucked Victoria up the ass, fingers gripping her hair as he thrust, not caring if it was too hard. She took whatever he inflicted, which pissed him off at times. He preferred them with a little more fight.

Over the sounds of her moans he sensed something. In his time, he’d been the target of numerous assassination attempts, the byproduct of the rape, robbery, and violence he inflicted as a matter of course. Only once had he ignored his instinct, having had a bit too much to drink and being distracted by the tight rear of a sexy pool shark at the time, and the result had been a fight with Kannon that had nearly done him in.

He pulled out of Victoria and yanked up his pants, his finger to his lips as she twisted around. He retrieved his submachine gun and skulked to the door to listen.

A soft pop. A rattling breath. A dull thud. Someone had come to visit.

Ek shoved open the door and stalked through the shadowed passages, keeping his steps light. Edging around a corner he saw one of his men lying face-down on the stone floor, a hole in the back of the head, which meant that the bullet had come from—

He spun and squeezed the trigger.

Kannon Takahama gripped the muzzle of Ek’s submachine gun, deflecting it away. The noise of the rapid-firing and strafed masonry was explosive in the closed space. Montri’s man jammed his pistol against Ek’s chest and fired. Heat and pain ripped through Ek.

And underneath it all, he detected the scent of his own death.

A roar broke from him, and with an almighty shove, he sent Kannon flying backwards into a wall with bone-jarring force. He’d die creating even more death. Lurching, he slammed his fist into the ribs of Montri’s number one hunter, heard the crunch.

The effort cost him, and weakness rushed through him. Iron hard knuckles mashed Ek’s throat; he sucked air on a rattling gasp. One, two, three punches to the face and then a kick to his damaged chest and he felt the sharp squeeze of a lung collapsing.

Ek fell to his knees, and snarled at Kannon like a cornered dog. Kannon picked up his pistol, leveled it at Ek, and there was a loud bang—not from Kannon.

His vision dancing with spots, Ek shook his head to clear it. It was Victoria, smoking gun in hand, smiling down at him.

Gina chewed her lip as she waited, the endless silence unnerving. Just as she checked her phone for the twentieth time in twenty seconds, it chimed with a text from Kittyjack.

prolly 2 l8 bt atachd r d plnz of d NcyD. gud luk
.

“Seriously?” She mentally translated the message, then pulled up an attachment of a crude map showing the building’s interior. The place was a maze of rooms and corridors, but on its western side, she spotted a stairwell to a cellar. Gina tightened her hold on the phone. The perfect place to keep Tasanee—underground, there’d be no way any cries could be heard.

The message had already been copied to Kannon. Fat lot of good that was with his phone muted.

Automatic weapon fire echoed across the field.

“Oh, fuck.” She trained her binoculars back on the building. Nothing and nobody. Another distant bang.

Blood trickled into her mouth, she’d bit her lip so hard. She ached to go help. Except Kannon had made it very clear that she was to stay put until called. Maybe it was all going according to plan, and she needed to stick to it. Maybe she needed to have a little faith. Her gaze skittered to the phone. “Phone, baku. Phone.”

All was quiet, then the front door of the building opened to three rakshasas struggling to carry a huge, bloodied man over to the nearest Range Rover. Ek. Halfway there, more gunshots rang out, cutting all three down, and Ek collapsed to the ground.

All was still again.

The binoculars jiggled in Gina’s shaking hands and she strained to focus on the bodies. Ek was moving. Hand over hand he dragged himself towards the Range Rover, leaving behind a bloody trail. At the driver’s door he struggled to his feet, then Ryota strode up. He pressed his gun to the back of Ek’s head and pulled the trigger, dropping the rakshasa leader execution style.

Gina bit back a shout of happiness. Yes!

Ryota raced to the building door, Jarun materializing out of the underbrush to join him.

Where the hell was Kannon?

“Fuck this,” she cursed to herself, and climbing into the SUV, threw it into drive. She flew down the road. Kannon had to be okay. He had to be. “Don’t worry, baku,” she said. “I’m coming.”

But in the pit of her stomach, exactly as she had when she’d pulled the trigger on that poor boy years ago, she knew things had gone all wrong.

In fear and hate, Victoria clenched her teeth as she heard the gunshots at the front of the building—the direction the last of Ek’s men had carried her lover.

So Montri had decided to get his daughter back, had he? Well, that was a mistake. Gripping her gun, she hobbled forward, eye squinting as she tried to follow Kannon’s blood trail through the shadowy interior. Kill Kannon. Then, kill Tasanee. It was a shame she wouldn’t have the time to cut up Daddy’s little girl.

She peeked around a corner down a corridor. A bullet instantly ricocheted off the wall beside her face.

“Duck fucker!” she cried, pulling back. She’d injured Kannon enough to make him drop his gun, but apparently he had another.

The front door banged as it was kicked open. Montri’s men. She’d no time left. She had one advantage—she knew the layout of the ruin, knew exactly where Tasanee was, and they didn’t. Switch the order. First the girl, and then if Kannon didn’t bleed out from the bullet in his gut, him second.

She angled through the place fast, and limped down the worn stairs to the cellar. She slid back the bolt and opened the door. The girl was huddled in the corner, flies buzzing all around. Pathetic spawn.

Victoria aimed her gun, lips twitching with rage. “This one’s for Ek,” she hissed. Her finger began to squeeze the trigger.

“Victoria!”

It was Jarun.

“Victoria! Where are you?”

Had her brother sent him? If so, how had he found the place?

“Victoria!” he called again, his voice closer, urgent. “We have to get Ek to the hospital or he’s going to die! Where the hell are you?”

Ek was alive? Then, what were those gunshots she’d heard?

She stepped back, turning to look up the stairwell. “What are you doing here?” she called out

“We have to get the girl and get out of here. Come on!”

No, something wasn’t right. Her brother didn’t know where this place was. And that meant that Jarun couldn’t have either, unless he was in league with Montri.

“Duck fucker.” After all John had done for that worthless street rat, this was how he was repaying them? Well, she’d show him. She’d show all of them. She was a rakshasi, a daughter of the Nirriti, dark void of the underworld, and she’d make them suffer like—

All at once a heavy chain slipped over Victoria’s head, yanking tight against her throat. Tasanee screeched in anger as she braced her foot between Victoria’s shoulder blades, pulling for all she was worth.

Losing their balance, the two of them tumbled backwards into the cell. As Victoria tried to aim her weapon over her shoulder, the chain went slack. Gasping, she staggered to her feet in time for the solid metal door to slam in her face, the bolt thrown shut.

“Duck fucking bitch!” she screamed, blasting away at the door, her finger pumping the trigger in rage until nothing but clicks emerged.

By the looks of it none of the bullets had penetrated the thick steel. Beyond it, she could hear Tasanee scrambling up the stairs, begging for help.

“Fuck!” With all her might, Victoria hurled her gun at the door. It bounced off and rattled across the floor.

Wait, someone was coming. Slow, steady steps that halted on the other side of the door.

“Well, this is ironic,” came a woman’s voice. A woman Victoria had never heard before.

“Let me out!” Victoria pounded her fist on the door. “Let me out right now!”

“I’m really tempted to leave you here,” said the voice. “After all the misery you’ve caused. All the suffering you’ve inflicted on my family and me. I should leave you in there to starve in the dark.”

Victoria stepped back, eyes wide with horror.