Svetlana jerked away from the deadly caress. Fury snapped in her eyes. “Be a man and end it here and now. I’ll never go back to Russia!”
Rage boiled in Wynn’s blood, spilling into his veins as he stalked toward his prey. “Let her go now or I swear I’ll kill you myself before you step foot on that train.”
“Sadly, you’ll never have the opportunity.” The gun flashed up and pointed directly at Wynn’s heart.
With a cry of alarm, Svetlana threw her arm up and smacked into Sergey’s hand. The gun tumbled and skittered under a pile of broken trolleys. Knocking Svetlana aside, Sergey scrambled after the gun, but Wynn lunged and caught him around the middle, throwing him to the ground. They grappled across the filthy floor grunting and swinging limbs.
Sergey writhed like a snake as he jabbed Wynn in his ribs. Wynn used blunt strength fueled by murderous rage to pummel the weasel into a sniveling mess. Svetlana’s screams, screeching wheels, and train whistles withered under the numbing instinct to kill. An instinct born into man and honed into a soldier to destroy any threat with primal viciousness. The battle peace, the Tommies called it. When the world fell away and calmness descended, allowing a man to do what must be done. Wynn no longer saw the bloodied face and black eyes of his enemy but Svetlana’s terrified face, her cries of heartbreak, her feet dancing in the moonlight, her peaceful face as she slept next to him. He fought for her.
“Wynn!” And just like that, her cry pierced the blackening numbness, pulling him back before the last vestiges of his humanity disappeared over the edge.
Clutching Sergey by the lapels, Wynn rocked back on his heels as the rage in his blood hissed its restrained vehemence.
“You will hang for your crimes of conspiracy to kidnap and murder. I will personally wait until your legs stop twitching on that rope before I pronounce you dead, then have your worthless carcass carted off and tossed into a nameless cesspit.”
Sergey grimaced, revealing the blood staining the crevices between his teeth. “I’d l-like to see you t-try.”
The train behind them slumped forward, digging its wheels for traction against the steel rails. A long belch of black smoke erupted from its chimney stack. A beastly thing, it howled forward, tugging the cargo compartments behind it into motion.
Wynn stood and jerked Sergey to his feet. Sergey ducked his head and bit down hard on Wynn’s hand. On instinct, Wynn released his grip and Sergey jumped out of reach.
He backed slowly toward the moving train, eyes darting for an open side door to lunge into. “I’ll return for you. My family is worth more than you ever could be—”
A ball of black hurled into Sergey. He flew backward off the platform and disappeared onto the train tracks below. A scream
tore, then a sickening thud. The train wheels picked up speed.
Ana, deathly regal in her travel suit of black and gray, stood calmly at the edge of the platform staring down at the track. Ever so slowly, she turned and clasped her hands calmly in front of her.
“He will not be returning.” Her gaze settled on Svetlana. “You are safe now, Svetka.”
Whistles, shouts, and pounding boots shattered the eerie stillness as the police came running. Leonid, gripping his bandaged arm, pushed his way to the front of the group.
“What is happened here?” He peered over the edge of the platform and stumbled back, crossing himself. “Holy Father of Heaven. Preserve us from evil.”
“He jumped.” Coming to her feet, Svetlana walked over to stand next to Wynn. She took his hand and pressed her shoulder to his, blocking her mother from view. “There was no place for him to go and he jumped.”
Wynn threaded his fingers through hers and nodded. “He jumped.”
Leonid considered them both for a long minute before finally adding his nod to the conclusion. “He jumped.”
Like locusts, the police swarmed the area until their droning rose above the chugging trains on the upper level. The rat-faced accomplice was hauled from the pile of boxes where he’d been struggling back to consciousness and handcuffed between two burly sergeants.
“Looks like we’ll be having a prime witness, lads,” the chief officer said as the rat was taken away. “A good ol’ fashioned interrogation ought to bring us a few more names to round up as we’ll be having no red commies here. Your Grace, sorry to be pestering you after a trying day, but we’ll be needing you to come down to the station for a few questions. Formality and all.”