Riptide

the chest, knocking him backward.
    Mikhail dropped to the floor, grabbed Becca's ankle, and jerked
    her hard toward him. He slammed his arm around her neck, and
    pressed the gun against her ear even as the balcony glass door shattered
    inward and Adam leapt through the billowing draperies and
    the broken glass into the bedroom. He stopped dead in his tracks.
    Mikhail smiled at him. "You try to kill me and the little bitch is
    dead. You got that?"

Chapter 30

    Mikhail said, the gun pointed in Becca's left ear, "That bastard
    shot my mother in the head. He's paid for it. You move and I'll
    blow her head off. You won't even recognize what's left."
    Adam couldn't believe it, just didn't want to accept what he was
    seeing. "I should never have let you stay here. Damn me, I should
    have drugged you, Becca, and hidden you away."
    But Becca didn't hear him. Mikhail's arm had tightened until she
    couldn't breathe, until everything turned black and she heard voices
    in the distance, but they didn't reach her, not really.
    Mikhail eased up on Becca's neck as he waved his gun at Adam.
    "Drop that gun and do it slowly and very carefully."
    Adam let the gun fall to the floor. It came to a stop, he saw, about
    thirteen inches beyond his left foot.
    "I dropped the gun. You've killed Thomas. No one else is near.
    Let her go, damn you, you've already choked her unconscious."
    "Yeah, right, you asshole."
    Thomas felt as if his chest was frozen, a good thing, he knew,
    because soon enough he would be in such pain he probably
    wouldn't be able to think, much less move. Krimakov's son was
    pressing a gun against Becca's throat. Adam stood not four feet away,
    helpless, frozen in place, shattered glass all around him. Thomas
    knew he was trying desperately to figure out what to do. Becca's
    eyes were closed, Mikhail's hold against her throat was too strong,
    far too strong. She'd passed out. He had to do something, anything.

He couldn't let her die, not like this, not after she'd hurled herself
    in front of him, to save him, to take the bullet herself. He felt the
    pain pulsing deep in his chest, but with it, he felt such an intense
    surge of love for her that gave him a burst of strength. He managed
    to ease his hand down to his pants pocket, to the small derringer.
    Just a bit more strength, that's all he needed, strength.
    Mikhail saw the slight movement from the corner of his eye.
    "Damn you, you're supposed to be dead. Don't move!" His hold
    against her throat lightened and almost immediately he saw that
    Becca was coming out of it. He clouted her hard on the side of the
    head, and shoved her away from him. He leaped to his feet, pulled
    a Zippo lighter from his pocket and set it to the bedding. In an instant,
    the blanket and sheets burst into flame.
    Thomas fired the derringer. Mikhail yelled and grabbed his arm
    as the bullet punched him backward. He hit the wall but didn't fall.
    Adam dove for his gun. Thomas fired again, but Mikhail had
    twisted low and the bullet just grazed the side of his head.
    Thomas fell back, the derringer falling from his hand. Adam
    twisted about, his gun raised, but Mikhail was out of the bedroom,
    and when Adam fired, the bullet hit the door frame. Mikhail
    slammed the door behind him and the flames gushed higher with
    the sudden rush of air, igniting the pillows, the thick brocade
    drapes that were ripped from Adam's run into the bedroom.
    "Damnation," Adam shouted. "Becca, are you all right?" He
    leaned over and slapped her face. "Come on, we've got to get out
    of here. Damn, the drapes are on fire now." He scrambled on his
    knees to where Thomas lay on his back. He shook him. "Thomas,
    open your eyes. That's it. Now, can you make it?"
    Thomas just smiled at him. "No, unfortunately not, Adam. I
    think this is the end of the line for me. Get Becca out of here. Tell
    her I love her."

"Don't be a jackass," Adam said. "We're all getting out of here.
    Come on, you can do it." He wrapped an arm around Thomas and
    jerked to his feet, pulling Thomas with him. He started to lift him
    over his shoulder.
    "No, not yet," Thomas said, the pain flooding over him now,
    drawing at his brain, making everything darken, darken. "No,
    dammit, we'll get out of here. Becca, get yourself together! I'm not
    going to lose you now."
    Becca was sitting now, shaking her head, trying to breathe. She
    heard agents yelling outside, prayed they wouldn't try to come into
    the burning room, prayed they'd be ready to pump a hundred