As he spoke, Flynn covertly adjusted his position to the other side of the armoire. He could just hear Bushnik and Pink’s last movement to the right of him under the noise of his reply.

Pink’s muffled warning under Bushnik’s hand was enough to clue Flynn in that Bushnik was moving them closer, into the dim light of the furnace to his right.

“I don’t plan on dying tonight, Special Agent.” The Russian laughed arrogantly and asked, “Can you live with the death of your girl?”

The soles of Bushnik’s shoes and Pink’s heels shuffled closer to the furnace. Flynn could barely make out the top of the Russian’s head. Just a few more feet and he would be able to see them more clearly.  And take his shot.  Flynn raised his weapon, using both hands for optimal control, aimed it toward the furnace, and waited.

Long minutes dragged out.  The only sound was his heartbeat in his ears and Pink’s muffled cries.

He needed a distraction. Something to divert their attention from his position, while pushing Bushnik into the light. His eyes fully adjusted now, Flynn could better make out his surroundings.

He quietly opened the flaps of a nearby carton and reached inside. Books! Perfect. Lifting one from the box, he placed it on the floor, and then slid it across the room to his left.

Bushnik moved away from the sound and into the light, where Flynn could clearly see that Pink was being held in front of the bastard as a human shield. Bushnik’s left hand was wrapped around her mouth, and her body was pressed against him by his forearm and elbow across her chest.

His gun hand was extended over Pink’s right shoulder, gripping an AK as he moved it from left to right and back again, waiting for an opportunity to light Flynn up.

With Pink covered as she was, and the light quality poor, it was impossible for Flynn to take a shot.

Heavy footsteps moved across the kitchen floor above. Andre must have pointed the team in his direction.

Time had become critical. The open door and the stairwell behind it were a fatal kill zone from Bushnik’s position. Any returned fire would hit Pink first.

Leaping to his feet, Flynn took a two-handed grip on his gun and aiming at the Russian, shouted, “It’s over, Bushnik! Let her go, now!”

Unflappable, Bushink shook his head. “Drop your gun or I kill her first, you second.” The Russian was cool, calm, and collected. Flynn was anything but.

“No deal. Give it up.”

“Then say good bye to your lovely gift.”

Flynn could barely make out Pink’s shoulder dipping from the sudden increased pressure of Bushnik’s extended arm.

Stay still, baby!

Unexpectedly, she bit the hand over her mouth and when Bushnik instinctively pulled it away, freeing her arms, she reached up with both hands, her left pushing the gun away while her right grasped Bushnik’s forearm. The gun exploded and the muzzle flash temporarily blinded Flynn. Then Flynn heard the telltale sound of metal clicking repeatedly on metal: Bushnik’s gun was jammed.

Blinking, trying to focus, Flynn started for Isa. With both of her hands now firmly gripping Bushnik’s extended arm, Pink gave it a sharp downward yank atop her shoulder. The snap of bone followed by Bushnik’s scream of pain was the sweetest sound Flynn had heard that day.

Isa shoved the screaming Russian away from her, running straight to Flynn, who quickly passed her off in the direction of the door as the team stormed down the stairs.

Flynn strode toward the furious, disabled Russian. Bushnik dropped the AK and went for the gun tucked in his waistband. Flynn kicked it out of his hand, then kicked him in the chest, forcing him back into the wall, which he hit with a loud thud and a curse.

“Hands over your head and down on your knees.”

Without a word, Bushnik attempted to comply. But his right arm hung at an unnatural angle and it was impossible. “On your stomach. Arms and legs spread,” Flynn commanded.

The Russian cursed loudly in his native tongue as he slowly complied. Flynn took great satisfaction in the fact that the Russian groaned loudly in pain as he assumed the position.

“You should have taken that tiny dancer at her word when she said she’d bring hell down on you,” Flynn said, shaking his head, amazed by her act.

“Only I know where Jasmyn is.  And I will never tell,” Bushnik promised.

Flynn squatted down in front of him and said, “If you know what’s good for you, Miroslav, you’ll tell me right now where she is.”

“What is good for me is my lawyer.”

“You don’t have the same rights as me, Bushnik,” Flynn said, then nodded to Maddox who moved past Flynn and with no compassion for the man’s broken arm, hooked him up.

When Flynn turned around, he found Justin trying unsuccessfully to keep Pink from heading back into the fray.

“Let me go to him, Justin!” she shrieked, shoving at him.

“Isa,” Flynn said softly.

She turned and screamed his name, tearing herself loose from Justin and catapulting her body into his.

He caught her to him, hugging her tightly.

“Thank God!” she cried, wrapping her arms around him as his tightened around her.

“It’s over, baby.  All over.  You’re safe,” he whispered, unable to get her body close enough to his.  “Never gonna let you go,” he rasped.  “Never gonna let you go.”

Tears streamed down her cheeks.  Flynn bent his head and kissed them away, trying hard to keep the sting of moisture in his eyes from showing.

“Flynn,” she sobbed.  “I was so afraid I was never going to see you again.  That I was going to be gone forever, and Bushnik’s thugs were going to kill you, and—” She kissed him, their tears mingling. “I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said trying to soothe her fears.

“Did he tell you where Alex is?” she asked, hope lighting up her face.

Shaking his head, Flynn said, “No, but once he understands he’s never leaving this country, he’ll offer information to knock years off his sentence.”  He kissed her forehead and hugged her close.  “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear, baby, but know Justin won’t go easy on him.  And we’re still looking. We’ll never stop looking.”

“I need to speak to my father,” she said against his chest. “I want to look him in the eye when he tells me he doesn’t know what happened to her.  I want to see how he reacts, because I have this bad feeling he’s somehow involved in all of this.”

“We’ll do it together.”

Isa looked up at him, love beaming in her eyes.  “I was hoping you would say that.”

“You’re going to have a hard time getting rid of me.”

Her lips broke into a bright smile.  “I was hoping you would say that too.”

Flynn hugged her tightly to his chest.  Adrenaline pumped through his body.  That had been too damn close.

“I’m proud of you, baby, you kept your cool, gave us good info so we could keep you in our sights, and then broke Bushnik down.” He pulled away and looked down at her.  “Where did you learn that over the shoulder move?”

“Kick boxing,” she said like it was no big deal.

“You really are a bad ass.”

Raising her lips to his, she said, “Don’t you forget it.”

Epilogue

Four weeks later

“She’s beautiful,” Izzy whispered, leaning into Flynn as they stood.

He smiled down at her, his fingertips brushing pink strands of her bangs from her adoring eyes.  It was a simple gesture, but a reverent one.  Flynn said more with that gentle touch than any words could ever convey.  “You’re right,” he smiled, “You are.”

Nudging him with her elbow, she inclined her head toward the beaming bride as she walked down the aisle on Simon’s arm.

“The bride.”