Finn caught sight of Lars and headed down the ground floor hallway toward him. He spotted movement on the other side of the villa’s gardens, but whoever had been walking there moved out of sight before he could recognize them.

Lars threw him a wild gesture, pointing for the front entrance of the villa.

But he hadn’t found Cora yet. He’d obviously missed whoever had taken her, and they’d cleared the stairs before he’d come down into the cells. They could be anywhere by now. He gave his head a hard shake and picked up speed. Lars looked left, then right, and then turned around and disappeared.

And then Javier stormed onto the second floor, sending two of his henchmen down either side of the corridor before heading for Cora’s room.

Because he still thought she was inside.

Fuck.

Finn did another quick scan, failed to see Lars anywhere, and made a run toward the patio. When he passed Javier’s study, someone was just coming out of the room. One of Javier’s sicarios, possibly. Finn skidded to a halt, but he’d seen him running and gave him a suspicious look, before going for the handheld radio clipped to his shirt pocket. Finn jutted out his hand, fingers straight and stiff as a blade, and struck the man’s trachea. The guard fumbled for his rifle, which had been dangling from a strap at his side, but Finn drove his elbow into the guard’s stomach, kneed him in the groin, and ripped the weapon free while the man was still folding to the floor, making an ugly gurgling sound.

He shoved open the door. He unloaded the rifle’s chamber and tossed it far back into the room, dropping the now useless rifle at the man’s feet. An assault rifle would help him none—he had a pistol. If he needed more bullets than the magazine contained, then he was fucked anyway.

A random thought flashed across his mind.

What if Lars had been signaling that he’d found Cora? Maybe he had her in a car, ready to go. Just waiting for him.

Finn hurried toward the villa’s entrance. He’d almost made it before a shout came from behind. He spun, eyes fixing on Javier. The man stood in the corridor outside Cora’s room, hands gripping the railings as he leaned forward.

“Kill him!” Javier bellowed, and the men at his side dispersed like well-trained mercenaries. A third, familiar enough that he could have been one of Javier’s personal bodyguards, lifted an AR-223 rifle, and aimed through the front sight toward Finn.

The bullet struck the door’s lintel as Finn surged through it. A chunk of plaster spat against his leg. It felt like a bee sting, but he ignored it. Ignored everything except forcing his legs to move faster.

Sunlight blinded him. He shaded his eyes, pausing just long enough to orientate himself.

The drive was empty. A man ran toward the side of the villa, his rifle held out and ready to shoot. At what, fuck knew.

A second guard who’d been standing staring after his friend turned to Finn, a radio clutched in his hand. It struck the ground as the guard whipped his assault rifle around.

Finn dove, striking the stone steps hard with his shoulder. A deafening spray of gunfire followed him as he scrambled up and raced behind the ineffectual cover of a nearby hedge.

He stayed low, following the line of the villa as he ran around, desperately trying to figure out how he could make it to the gate if there was no cover between here and the trees that lined both sides of the gravel drive. And even those were tall and thin; their trunks would offer piss-poor cover for his broad body.

Fuck.

He gritted his teeth as a hail of bullets chewed up the ground a few feet ahead of him.

And then he was around the corner.

Where he saw Cora, and Lars, and the truck.

Which was about the same time that the man pressing a gun to Cora’s head saw him.