And now the passenger, despite being shot, was coming around the back.
Bodie let his body hang, hoping for space, but his opponent only pushed harder. Cassidy passed him by, focused completely on the passenger. Bodie didn’t blame her. The passenger was three feet away from Eric.
The knife clattered to the asphalt at Bodie’s feet. The Russian saw it and his eyes went wide. Bodie saw it, too, but was starting to get double vision as the breath was crushed out of him, the edges slowly blurring to black. Eric stopped kicking for half a second, mesmerized by the blade and knowing what had to be done.
“Don’t you do it, kid,” the Russian grumbled. “This assboy deserves what we do to him. We take you to better place.”
Young as he was, Eric knew bullshit when he heard it. He raised the knife, which made the Russian move, pulling away from Bodie. The thief welcomed the easing of the pressure but still gulped for air, unable to take advantage. Eric raised the knife but then saw his wrist grabbed by an enormous hand.
“Let go, or I break bone.”
Suddenly, Eric’s mother flew in, an avenging angel. She wrenched the knife free with the brute strength of parental desperation, reversed it, and plunged it so quickly into her enemy’s ribs that he didn’t have the time to react. Still screaming, she scooped up her child and backed away.
Bodie now saw the man reaching for the knife as full vision returned. Though weak, Bodie concentrated on lifting the gun.
By the time the Russian had plucked the knife from his ribs, grunted at the pain, grinned, then turned back to face Bodie with the blade in an underhand grip, the thief had leveled his own gun.
“Assboy?” he repeated, and pulled the trigger.
Now completely free, he breathed huge gulps of air. Energy flooded his body. Cassidy was dealing effectively with the passenger at the back of the SUV while Pantera grappled with the driver — all fighters evenly matched. Bodie breathed deeply and went to help Pantera.
The driver was strong, young, and wiry; proving to be a handful. Pantera was going at him like the man that Bodie used to know — fitter, faster, and with the ability to land debilitating punches. The kid waited until Pantera overcompensated, then hit hard, wearing him down. Bodie saw a gap and entered the fray, charging in with a heavy front kick that was blocked, turned aside. But Bodie was ready for that. As the kid angled him away, Bodie swung fully around, left elbow out, landing a heavy blow on the cheek. Staggering, the driver grunted and raised a hand toward the point of pain. Bodie waded into the exposed area, pummeling flesh and making sure the spine connected solidly again and again with the car’s framework.
Pretty soon, the driver was sliding to the ground in agony, all clear thought receding.
Pantera knelt down and finished him off. Bodie’s first thought was for Cassidy. He looked over to see her grab her opponent by the shirt and slam him into the back window of the SUV. Glass shattered. The Russian’s head lolled. Cassidy wiped blood from her cheeks and her hair.
“You took your time,” Bodie murmured, breathing hard.
“Hey, what can I say? He was cute.”
Bodie walked over to Steph and Eric. “Any injuries?”
Pantera’s wife shook her head, tears flying like raindrops, but the steely glint in her eyes telling him she was ready to do exactly as she was told.
“Get back in the car,” he said. “We should get out of here and make a call.”
Cassidy and Pantera came up to him. “A call?” Cassidy asked.
“Bratva keep coming,” Bodie said. “They will never stop. There’s only one person in the world who can help us now.”
“Don’t tell me.” Cassidy exhaled. “Your goddamn girlfriend?”
“She’s not my girlfriend. But if you mean Heidi — then yes.”
“Right.” Cassidy controlled her breathing as she headed back to the battered Challenger. “Right.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Rio sat brooding, a sweatbox of mystery, immorality, integrity, and dreams. The city was never still, always vibrant, the monolithic granite giant that watched over it rising straight from the water’s edge.
The team was secure, ensconced for the past few hours in a Santo Cristo — area safe house, surrounded by restaurants and cafés and burger bars. Heidi could see the incredibly blue bay from just one small area of the room. She took Bodie’s call, tried to hide her relief, and then explained the situation to the rest of the team. Cross took it with no response, his deep, experienced gaze weighing all options. Jemma narrowed her eyes, assessing the likelihood of Pantera’s story. Gunn listened silently, then started tapping away on his tablet, no doubt investigating the words “Bratva” and “Russian brothers.”
Heidi paced the room. “I’ve arranged a safe house for Pantera and his family. They won’t be comfortable, but they won’t be dead either.”
“The Bratva will not stop coming,” Cross said.
“I know that.”
Cross winced, also knowing something of the Pantera family history and why the man’s wife had taken out a court order on him. The truth was — Heidi knew also. It had formed an important part of her research when the man and his protégé came into the picture. Steph, his wife, discovered the length and breadth of his nefarious dealings. Fearing her son might follow a similar path, she had sought to save him by cutting all ties with Pantera.
But Heidi couldn’t concern herself with that now. Their Rio contacts had put the feelers out among the local informers and identified the gang who had attacked them. As expected, they were small fry but deadly, able to react with significant force. Heidi thought it best to simply melt away and hope they did the same.
“Time to wrap this up,” she said. “Plane’s ready.”
They called a car and met it on the street, ready for anything. Heidi found her mood buoyant, practically bouncing as she jumped into the passenger seat. At first, she couldn’t figure out why, and then she pushed the obvious answer to the side.
Don’t be an idiot.
In more ways than one. The situation at home was perilous already without adding another man to the story. It had only been a few days, but Heidi found herself picturing her daughter. The mood became mixed, the situation pulling her in many ways.
If I don’t do this, who will? Why should anyone? Then… then where would we be?
The words that passed unendingly through her mind. The words that broke her relationship. She was a woman who wanted to protect far more than she was physically or mentally capable of doing.
I am a CIA agent, torn between my family and a career.
The reminder didn’t help. By the time they arrived at the airport, her mood had deteriorated beyond sour to dire. She focused her mind on the job, on the components of their hunt for Atlantis. And, to her mind at least, that included a refresher course on the members of her diverse team.
Of the three members of Bodie’s crew with her, she found Sam Gunn the most interesting. This man possessed all the potential, all the capabilities, and a fascinating mix of fire and innocence. She knew about his youth growing up in foster homes and how hard it might have been, but that wasn’t the thing that made Gunn hard to judge and even harder to get close to. It was the combination of introvert and wannabe showman; the brains that came with no brawn, but had a hidden cache of courage. She felt herself wanting to mentor the nerd, train him, but knew she’d never be able to find the time.