Page 36 of The 9th Man

And charged.

Luke spun on his heel, sidestepping Persik’s tackle by inches.

Not his first rodeo.

He slipped his left arm over Persik’s shoulder, grasped the chin, and wrenched the neck, yanking him close. He shoved the barrel of his gun into Persik’s ear and angled their bodies to face the two Renault sedans.

All the doors were open.

Six men were out, automatic rifles aimed at Luke.

He learned long ago that few survived first contact with the enemy. Things changed. Like a bold charge from Persik. On the plus side Jillian, having realized their original plan had derailed, had held her fire.

Thank goodness.

He shifted most of his body so he was hidden behind Persik. “You broke our deal. My feelings are hurt.”

“You can’t win this.”

Baldy sidestepped away from the car, trying to improve his firing angle on Luke.

“He takes another step and you go down.”

“You have no sniper,” Persik spit out.

A shot rang out from behind him. The round skipped off the pavement within inches of Baldy. Jillian had fired, announcing her presence.

“I may not need one,” Luke said. “Tell him to get back.”

Persik shouted something. Baldy froze.

He realized the only thing keeping those six men from opening fire was the fact that their boss was in dire jeopardy. Obviously, there was loyalty there. Good. He’d exploit that.

“Everyone lowers their weapons,” he told Persik, “and Baldy goes back to the car.”

He knew better than to demand more. Men like this didn’t self-disarm. Plus, the longer he kept this going the greater his chance of making a mistake.

Persik barked out the order.

“No way,” Luke said. “English. Tell them in English.”

To make his point he jammed the gun harder into the ear and cocked the hammer. No matter how tough you were, that sound always brought anxiety. Just a twitch of the finger away from death.

“Lower the guns,” Persik said.

“To the ground,” Luke added.

They did. In unison. He assumed this was a tight-knit group. More important, they were leader-focused, not mission-focused. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have hesitated to sacrifice Persik. Perfect. That he could work with.

Once Baldy was back behind the door, he told Persik, “We’re leaving now.”

“With me as your hostage?”

He’d considered the possibility, but wrangling this guy would be a fox-in-the-henhouse-on-steroids complication he couldn’t afford.

He and Persik walked forward in lockstep until they were twenty feet from the Renaults. “You guys get back in your cars, and stay there until we leave.”

“We won’t stop coming after you,” Persik said. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”