David ran through everything he knew. Victoria becomes Peterson’s girlfriend to get the in on the DOS end of their diplomacy. Maybe she gets drunk, and says enough to tip Peterson off. Peterson taps Molly to pass Doubrov a note warning him that the Russian finance minister was going to be taken. But by whom? Why? It all sounded too Cold War to be plausible.

The engraving on the pen that had been used as the connection point of the improvised explosive. Victoria was the hardcore operative he and Mal had discussed. She’d killed Doubrov… His mind stuttered. He remembered what he’d been thinking about when he’d been drugged. The second shot. The first shot had taken Doubrov out, but only because Molly had bent down to pick up the note.

Molly had been the target. Victoria had been trying to kill Molly.

Jesus, the pain was really focusing his mind. “Don’t tell her anything, Mol. She’s the one who tried to kill you, but got Doubrov instead.” He needed to get Victoria’s attention on him.

“Did you get into trouble when you accidentally killed Doubrov instead of Molly? Are you tying up loose ends by killing us both? Will you also kill Peterson? Your boyfriend? You want to know how I knew it was you? You used your own monogrammed pen as your trip-wire contact blocker.”

It worked. She snapped open a baton and wacked him across his stretched ribs. His feet gave way and he swung, the pain humming though him like the echo of a choirboy’s last note.

“That wasn’t my fault. I had to improvise. My target spotter couldn’t spot his own ass in a mirror. I know who you are, Sergeant David Church. Explosive Ordinance Disposal. If it had been anyone but you, my bombs would have gone off as planned and none of this would have happened. It’s all your fault. It’s all your fault.” She punctuated each word with a lash of her baton.

He grit his teeth and shouted through them, not giving her the satisfaction of seeing him groan or fucking whimper in pain, which is what he wanted to do. SERE training. Don’t give the enemy the psychological advantage. If you’re scared, in pain, or weak, act angry.

“Don’t!” Molly said. “I’ll tell you anything you want. Just don’t hurt him. He didn’t have anything to do with this. I just met him here. I’m the one you need to talk to. Although I’m afraid it’s too late for you.”

David’s head snapped up. What the fuck was she talking about? Victoria’s attention was one hundred percent on Molly now. He looked up at the binds around his wrists that were attached to the chain. When she’d hit him and he’d weighed down on them, he’d felt them rip a bit.

“I knew you weren’t just the innocent bystander my boss thought you were,” Victoria said, leaning in satisfaction against a wooden table and folding her arms across her pink jacket. “Tell me more.”

“I want some water first. For me and David. Then I’ll talk,” Molly said, coughing for effect.

Victoria screwed her face up for a second, and then shrugged. “Okay. But if you don’t talk…what am I saying? Of course you’ll talk. You really have no choice.”

She made the long walk to the door of the warehouse and slipped out. “What are you doing? She will kill you once you’ve given her what she wants. It was you she was after in the first place.” His heart was racing at the little time they had.

“I know. I just don’t want you here when that happens. I dragged you into this, and I’m so sorry. I had no idea this would get so…”

“Fucked up?” he asked between his teeth.

“Yeah. I’m going to give her enough information to let you go. Then, I guess, we’ll see what happens.” She was numb. She knew she should be petrified, but she couldn’t gather enough emotion to feel anything. Every part of her wanted him away from this. She had no idea how seeing her die would affect him, but given the last year, she had her suspicions. If she could just save him from this, she would be okay. She would die with no regrets. Well, that wasn’t really true, but she was trying her hardest to hold it all together.

“You’re sweet,” he said. “But you really don’t have to do that for me.” Suddenly there was no strain in his voice at all. It was like they were having coffee somewhere. “Just shuffle yourself over here a bit.”

She used her body to jump her chair over to David.

“Sorry about this,” he said as he put his feet on her thighs. He was using the extra height to try to flip his chains off the hook hanging from the ceiling. “I need more height.”

Crap. She used all her energy to shuffle over to the big wooden table that Victoria had put her case on. When she’d laid it there, Molly imagined it was full of torture devices.

“We have to hurry, sweetheart.” Still his voice held no tension.

She pushed the back of her chair against the table and shoved it. The effort was wearing her out. She felt weak and she didn’t know if it was from the drug they’d kept giving her, or the fact that she’d been strapped to the chair for…how long she didn’t really know. She pushed, and shoved. Willing herself to find the energy to move the table to him.

“Just a bit further, you’re doing great.” As he said the words, the door slammed open.

Shit. She gave one more shove, mustering all the energy she could. The momentum moved the table about a foot or two, and left Molly hanging in midair for a second before she crashed to the ground. She rolled on to her side to get her eyes on David.

From her prone position, she saw Victoria’s legs running toward them, but couldn’t see David’s legs, which hopefully meant that he was on the table. A crash of chains echoed around the room. Molly took a breath and tried to figure out how she could help him.

She rolled to try to get some leverage and heard the chair creaking. Maybe she could break it. She was sure she’d seen Black Widow do this in a movie. She rolled against the back of the chair. There was a snap as one of the chair arms detached from the back. Nice.

She rolled harder, slamming the chair against the concrete. Pain radiated through her bones as the back splintered away from the arms. She heard grunts, and the rattle of chains. Frantically she beat her bent legs down hard. Again and again, trying not to notice the shots of pain that radiated through her. One last crash, and the legs of the chair had broken. They were still attached to her, but they’d broken off the seat.

She leapt up. David was standing, barely. He was slumped as if he couldn’t stand up anymore. Victoria lay on the floor, one of her legs pointing in a very unnatural direction, unconscious. Maybe dead.

She got to David just in time to put her hands on him before he fell to the ground. She managed to brace his fall. “You were awesome,” she said. “You saved us.” She kissed the side of his head and held him, doing little more than rocking in relief. Her brain went fuzzy, and she closed her eyes, just wanting to be anywhere but here.

She roused herself to untie David’s wrists, and then her own when David just groaned. “We have to go. Can you stand?” she asked. The fight must have really taken it out of him. She pulled herself to her feet leaning on the table. She leaned down to pull David up, and for the first time, saw blood on the floor. Sticky dark blood. A pool.

She sank to her knees. “David? Are you hurt?” She tried to check him, but it wasn’t until she held him that she realized he was bleeding from his side.

“Go, sweetheart. They want you. You have to run. Go to the embassy. Ask them to call Sadie Walker. She’s a friend of Harry and Matt’s. Tell her everything. Everything you haven’t told me. She’s…” his voice faded.

“Fuck that all to hell. I’m not leaving here without you.” Suddenly immune to her own injuries, she looked around for something to help him.

Victoria’s case. She opened it. Torture devices? It was the suitcase she’d arrived with. Just freaking clothes, a wallet and…an iPad. She frantically rifled through her wallet and plucked out a credit card and pressed it against his wound to make the gaping hole airtight. She grabbed one of Victoria’s silk shirts and wrapped it around him, tying the arms around his waist to hold it in place.