“Fucking liars. Both of you.”
“He isn’t lying,” Doc told him. “It isn’t in her clothes.”
“What?”
It took Gunner a minute to process Doc’s words. What was he saying? When he realized what his teammate meant, a roar hurled from his chest, through his body, and out of his mouth. Someone had planted a tracking device inside Raketa’s body. It could’ve been anyone, but more than likely, United Russia had done it years ago.
“I know what you’re thinking,” said Razor, his hands gripping Gunner’s shoulders while he tried to catch his breath. “If it was UR, they would’ve killed her the minute she left Moscow. They wouldn’t have wasted time sending Orlov.”
“Who?”
“Petrov.”
That didn’t make sense either, not that Gunner could get his brain to process rational thinking. He looked at the man who he’d nearly beaten to death and fell to his knees.
“Jesus, help me, I’m sorry,” he practically wailed. He looked between Doc and Shiv, and instead of recrimination in their eyes, he saw pity. He’d killed a lot of people in the course of his life, but he’d never lost control like he had today. He’d never felt that kind of rage. How many times had he hit him before Razor stopped him? Ten? More?
“Is…he…”
“There’s a bus on the way.”
“I’ll go with him.”
“No. You won’t,” Doc told him.
“Whatever he needs…God, Pimm…I’m sorry.” He didn’t know whether the man could hear him, whether he was even conscious.
“Raketa will need you to be with her.”
“Right,” said Gunner, studying the wounds on his hands. “Shiv?”
“Save it, Godet. I don’t want to hear a bloody thing you have to say.”
Gunner heard the sound of the ambulance sirens getting closer, and watched as it pulled through the gates of Doc’s compound. Two paramedics lifted Pimm onto a stretcher and loaded him into the back of the vehicle. Shiv climbed in with him, and the doors closed.
“What have I done?” Gunner said to Razor as they watched the ambulance pull back out of the gates of the compound and speed away.
“Nothing I wouldn’t have done.”
“Don’t say that. You wouldn’t have—”
“Yeah, Gunner, I would’ve. Doc and Eighty-eight would’ve too.”
He didn’t know why his friend was telling him this. He knew it wasn’t true. He’d never seen any of them lose control that way.
“It doesn’t make it right,” said Doc, coming to kneel beside him, “but Razor’s right. If I thought someone had planted a device inside my wife, and that person was standing in front of me, I would’ve killed him. I wouldn’t have just hit him; that would take too long. I would’ve snapped his neck, and I wouldn’t have asked any questions.”
Gunner hung his head, more ashamed than he’d ever been before in his life. “Where’s Raketa?” he asked, not sure he really wanted to know.
“I’m here,” she said, walking toward him.
Both Razor and Doc stood and went inside when she fell to the ground beside him.
He leaned into her and cried. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t tell her how sorry he was, or how ashamed, or any of the horrible thoughts flying through his head faster than he could process them.
She just held him, rocking his body with hers as he cried. “I could’ve killed him.”
“That’s how much you love me,” she murmured.