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Valerio put his hand on his heart. “You have it.”
“I also need your word that, once I’ve given you what you need to take them down, you will not only help with what I’ve already asked of you, but you will allow me to leave Italy with your assurance that no one from your organization—yourself as well—will come after me or my family, or ever attempt to make contact with me again.”
“Again, you have my word.” Scaglione motioned to one of the men standing guard. He returned a few moments later and set a folded piece of paper on the table in front of his boss. He opened it, then slid it across the table.
“You will find Maximo here.”
“You drive,” I told Brand when we approached the waiting SUV.
“Who did you contact?” he asked when I hit send on the message I’d just written.
I scrubbed my face. “The bloody cavalry. As hard as it is for me to admit, Nemesis and her crew are the best there is.”
Brand raised a brow.
“You tell her I said so, and I’ll put a bullet in your brain.”
“Are you saying they’re better than Unit 23?”
“No, but we kill first and ask questions later.”
When we arrived in Chianti forty minutes later, Nemesis and her crew were waiting.
“As you can see, the Doppler picked up several hotspots. This is where we believe Penelope is being held.”
“What led you to that conclusion?” I asked.
“It’s the only area where it appears people come and go. The rest don’t move, so they’re most likely guards. We’ve broken into teams.” The screen changed, and color overlays appeared on the schematic. She used the trackpad to indicate which Tank, Blackjack, Brand, and I would be on.
“Let’s move out,” I said to them.
When we arrived, we saw Penelope was being held in the exact location Nemesis had predicted.
“Take one more step, and she dies,” said that sonuvabitch Maximo de Rossi sitting at the far end of a long table, his gun aimed directly at the woman.
“Put down the gun, Maximo, and let her go. This is over,” said Brand.
“If you have not brought my family to me, her death is inevitable.”
“Hurt her or me, and your uncle and his grandson will be dead within seconds.”
“Fuck,” I groaned when I felt a bullet graze my arm. Maximo had pulled the trigger, but I got off my rounds first, as did Brand, Tank, and Blackjack. The bastard’s dead body was riddled with bullets.
“Typhon’s hit!” Nemesis shouted. Leave it to her to make far more of it than it actually was. It wasn’t the first time I’d been shot, and it sure as fuck wouldn’t be the last.
“It’s a flesh wound, but I need to stop the bleeding,” Said one of the agents as she attempted to put pressure to stop the flow of blood while I watched Blackjack try to get the handcuffs off Penelope. I jerked away from her.
“Move!” I shouted, motioning with my good arm for everyone to step away from where Pen’s arms were bound to the chair.
“Typhon! I need to treat you! What are you doing?” the woman hollered at me.
“You can do it after I get her free,” I shouted back. “Hold still,” I said to Penelope. “Do not move even a millimeter. Brand, hold her arms as tightly as you can. Seshat, get over here. Cover her ears and hold her head still.”
I aimed at the chain of the cuffs. As long as Brand was able to keep her still, the bullet would either lodge in the chair or ricochet in the opposite direction, straight into a wall. I pulled the trigger, and the chain broke apart.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Typhon. You could’ve killed her!” Brand shouted at me as he lifted Penelope from the chair, into his arms, and carried her away.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t,” I muttered after he left the room.