by Eve Langlais
She could have told them it was only her second time, but she was more worried about Jeb. “Where is he?”
“Kole’s taken him prisoner. We aim to get him back.”
“How can I help?”
When they told her the conditions, trade herself for Jeb, she agreed without hesitation. “I’ll do it.”
And she didn’t change her mind when they arrived on the agreed-upon tarmac, Jeb in handcuffs and ankle tethers, his face twisted and angry.
“How dare you fucking do this?” he yelled at his brothers. “I trusted you to keep her safe.”
As she walked past him toward the woman in red, she reached out to touch him, conscious of the red spots, laser sights, on his skin.
She whispered, “I trust you.”
Save me.
22
The rage and anguish as she walked away had Jeb bellowing. It didn’t help he was stuck in his stupid human form, his mum having administered something to him that caused him to be unable to shift. The manacles between his ankles prevented him from doing more than a shuffle.
Despite the many rifle sights trained on him, he wanted to do something.
Act now before it’s too late.
She said she trusted him. Then why did she go like a bird to the slaughter?
His brothers surrounded him, gripping him by the arms, murmuring, “Sorry, we had no choice.”
No choice? Why couldn’t they grasp he was willing to give his life for her?
The anger burned hotly inside him that they’d done this to Nev. He glowered as they ushered him inside their private jet.
Glared as they prepped for takeoff. The moment the cuffs on his wrists came off he swung.
Jackson caught his fist. “Calm down, little bro. We’ll explain everything once we get out of here.”
Explain what? He’d lost Nev.
Jeb stared out the window as the plane holding his angel departed the strip, heading off who knew where.
The seat beside him creaked as his brother Jeremy dropped into it. “You look like something the dingo dragged in.”
“Since when do we negotiate with terrorists?” Jeb snarled.
“Didn’t negotiate. Mum wanted the girl. The girl agreed.”
“You should have said no,” Jeb yelled. “You didn’t need to hand her over to retrieve me.” Especially considering he had a tracker inside his body they could have used to find him.
“You’re right. We didn’t. We knew where you were. Some abandoned warehouse with a basement.”
Jeb blinked. “And you didn’t save me because?”
“Da said we needed the coordinates for Mum’s headquarters. And your girlfriend was kind enough to agree to help us out.”
“Excuse me?” Because Jeb suddenly didn’t understand anything at all.
“Simple. We knew Mum had another location. When you disappeared a week ago—”
“A week!” Why did it not seem like more than a few hours, a day at most?
What happened to me while I was unconscious?
“Yes, a week. At first, we couldn’t find you. We thought you were dead. You should have seen Da going on a lunatic rampage.”
Nice to know his dad cared.
“Then, about a day ago, your signal suddenly appeared in that abandoned warehouse. We immediately went scouting, only to realize it was just a decoy location. At the same time, we got the ransom demand.”
“And thought it was a good plan to hand Nev over.”
“She volunteered. Girl has got the hots for you something fierce.”
Did she love him? It explained the words she’d whispered as she walked past him, head held high.
“She’ll make you a great mate.”
Anger had Jeb shaking his head. “How do you figure that? Mum took her, and I doubt she’s just gonna hand her back.”
“Which is why your girl is wearing a tracker. One in her clothes. And one in her body. Jaycon”—Jeremy pointed a finger toward the cockpit—“is watching to see where they end up.”
“Mum’s not stupid.” Obviously, given how long she’d evaded their detection. “She’ll be looking for one.”
“Yup. And, when she finds the one in Nev’s clothes, will toss it.”
“What if she does something to the one in her body?”
“Then we might have a dilemma.”
Except things played out as they’d hoped. The clothes were tossed from the helicopter, but the main chip in Nev herself kept beeping. They followed it.
Followed it all the way to Thailand, where they had to coast low to avoid radar and ghost their way into the country.
Their connections around the world meant they had a place to land and stash the jet, along with a set of wheels to continue their pursuit.
They spent only a few hours getting ready. Long hours that Jeb itched about.
Each minute Nev was in his mum’s custody was a minute they could be hurting her.
This rescue was taking too long, and yet, at the same time, he understood they couldn’t go in halfcocked. Rescuing Nev in one piece was the most important thing.
As dusk fell, they put their plan in motion. His entire family had come. They were spread out around the concrete bunker-like building housing his angel. Or at least the signal they hoped she still wore.
The place certainly seemed correct given the guards on the roof and the searchlights constantly moving around the building. The red eyes of cameras watching.
It wouldn’t be enough. Jeb was here to save Nev, and no fancy defense system would stand in his way. While Nev was his main focus, he understood his brothers, the uncles, and his da had another target in mind.
First, though, they had to get into the building.
“My turn.” Shove. A body jostled to take his position.
“No, it’s my turn.” Push. Another brother tried to take his place.
“Screw you both, I’m next.” Time to assert himself before he got shuffled to the back.
Whack. “Shut up, you morons. Before you let them know we’re here.” Uncle Kendrick glared at his nephews, Jebediah, Jeremy, and Jakob. Given he’d whooped their butts more than once when they’d gotten out of line—Who smoked my last cigar??—the brothers stopped jostling to take point. Despite the danger, they were all eager to go first. But none more than Jeb. The longer Angel was inside, the longer his mum had to do whatever evil shit she had planned.
Uncle Kendrick whipped out orders. “Jeb, take care of the guards at the door. Use the flash bang. You two idiots”—a finger jabbed at Jeb’s brothers—“cover him. I don’t want those snipers on the roof getting a shot off.”
No one dared argue after that. The earplugs went in, and the safety goggles went on. Only morons dashed into a firefight without some kind of protection. Ringing ears weren’t just unpleasant; they allowed the enemy to sneak up on a fellow.
Jeb still remembered the time Jaxon got too big for his britches and fired the shotgun several times in a row at a target then carried on like an idiot, whooping and hollering. Given it was three in the morning, not everyone was happy with his shenanigans. Uncle Kyle stomped up to the oblivious idiot and put a gun to Jeb’s brother’s head. Jax never forgot his earplugs again. He also never celebrated being a moron at 3:00 a.m. after that. Jaxon began looking into a non-military career and ended up some glorified forest ranger who protected animals. The family wasn’t too surprised. Stupid bloke became a vegetarian after their first safari.
“Cover me, boys,” Jeb said with a grin as he palmed the flash bang and waited for his cue behind the rusty yellow car they’d parked themselves behind just before dawn.
Given there wasn’t much ground cover between the car and the building where the guards stood, armed with rifles, Jeb had to rely on blind luck—and a diversion. Across the way, something barked and howled. Then giggled. His other brothers, just as excited as Jeb about this mission.
The guys on the roof moved away from the edge.
While the ones at the
door headed toward the noise. His cue. Jeb ran out into the open, pulling the pin as he ran, drawing his arm back.
He launched the small missile. The stun grenade rolled in front of the blokes standing guard.
Not being all that bright, one of them leaned down for a closer peek. The other one had the brains to at least duck and cover his face.
Bang!
The grenade exploded in a bright flash, and the guard stumbled back, blinking and cursing. Just the opening they needed.
Jeb sprinted the last few yards for the door, his brothers only a few paces behind him. So much for giving him cover. But then again, Uncle Kendrick wouldn’t let him down. None of his family would in this multi-prong attack. Judging by the distant bangs and shouts, his other family members infiltrated the far side of the bunker.
Shit was about to hit the fan.
Jeb reached the front of the building and its first line of defense. His fist flew, hitting the dazed guard right in the kisser before he could think to use his gun. Then again, in close proximity, guns weren’t the right kind of weapon. Bruising fisticuffs though? He and his bros were pros.
The fellow dropped, and his partner soon followed, leaving the door free of obstacle. Seemed too easy, except Jeb knew better. A place doing illegal shit would, of course, be protected and locked up tighter than Fort Knox.
This might be a good time to admit he and his brothers had managed to make it into the heart of that old bullion depository and took a selfie in the vault, all because of a drunken dare. A Jones brothers adventure, which one day Jebediah might write about.
The stunned guards too quickly began lifting their heads when his brothers reached them.
Wham. A left hook caught one in the jaw, and the guard flew back, hitting the door of the building before he slumped. The other fellow took a few hits from his brother before joining him. Two down. A shit-ton more to go.
With Jakob watching the area around them, Jeb and Jeremy quickly knelt and pulled plastic ties from their cargo pants pockets to tether the hands of their first two prisoners. If things went to hell, the Joneses might need to question them later.
While they took care of the guards, Uncle Kendrick smushed a gray piece of clay onto the door where the handle met the frame.
This wasn’t a place you could just walk in. Much like the Bunyip Institute, entry required retinal scans from living tissue. A pain in the arse if you had to enter or leave in a hurry. Much better to—
“Duck!” yelled his uncle.
“Goose!” teased Jeb as they all hit the ground.
Boom. The rumble vibrated the earth they lay on, the charge having blown open the door, giving them entry.
They didn’t have time for subtle.
“Cover me,” Jeb demanded, jumping to his feet, determined to be the first through the door. He pulled his gun, a snub-nosed piece not available for regular purchase in Australia—but he had connections—and eased the muzzle in first, a tease for anyone watching. Only idiots charged in.
Jakob, the family idiot, kicked at the remains of the door and ran in yelling.
He didn’t drop dead of a gunshot, probably on account he still was coasting off the luck of that rabbit’s foot he’d shoved up his arse as a kid. Done on a dare, and yet, the bastard seemed to have more than his fair share of good chance.
Since Jakob cleared the way, they entered behind him, guns raised, ready to shoot anything that moved. Taking prisoners was all well and good as long as they weren’t in danger.
“Clear,” Jeremy noted. The door they’d blown open led to a tight vestibule area, ten by ten, with nothing but a desk and…
Movement caught Jeb’s eye, and he aimed his gun at the fellow standing up from behind the reception area.
Jeb’s ’roo instincts took over and he bounced, flying over the desk to land on the guard. He punched him a few times in the face and heard bone crunch.
While the man wailed—humans ever were whiny when they got a booboo—Jeb kept moving knowing Jeremy would handle the guard with more of the plastic ties. Jakob had his back. As for their uncle…
Kendrick tapped at his wrist communication unit and said absently, “You boys go ahead. I’m gonna make sure no one gets past me here.”
They exited the vestibule and were confronted by several doors. Where did they go? Behind which one was Angel? Jaycon hadn’t had time before the mission to pull up any building schematics. They were going in blind.
Common sense dictated they stick together for more firepower. But they had to work fast. By now, their mum would know they’d come for Nev—and revenge. Who knew what that woman would do?
A distant rumble let him know more of his family breached the rear.
“We have to get moving,” stated Jeremy, joining them. “I’ll take the door in front of us”
Whereas Jeb went left and Jakob right. Behind the door, Jeb discovered a short hallway that went for several paces before ending in another portal. No surprise, it also had a lock.
Should have dragged the guard with me. It required an eyeball for entry. Or a bomb.
The chunk of explosive he placed blew the lock enough that he could yank it open, but he didn’t immediately rush through. By now the guards in this place would be warned. And holes in his body? Not conducive to good health.
He pulled another stun grenade from his pocket, one-handed because of his gun. He used his teeth to pull the pin.
He eased open the door, just enough for him to roll the grenade in. Crouching low saved him from the gunfire that erupted.
“Is that all you got?” he yelled as the door swung shut. He turned from the blast, closing his eyes behind his safety goggles. The earplugs didn’t completely muffle the sound of the explosion.
His eyewear, however, protected him from the acrid smoke he’d unleashed. He crab-walked into the next room, his inner ’roo not at all happy about the smoke in a confined place. But not all fights could be out in the open.
Given he couldn’t see two feet in front of him, he tucked away his gun in favor of his fists. Didn’t want an accident. Uncle Kyle still glared at Kevyn each time they got together. The scar on his ass had left a permanent dimple.
Ping. Someone fired from within the smoky fog.
Jeb fired back blindly and was rewarded with a yelp. He kept sidling along the wall. As he came across doors, he secured them rather than going inside. Part of their mission was to keep as much of the building, and its research, as intact as possible. The shifter high council would want details on what occurred here to ensure it wasn’t repeated and, according to Uncle Kevyn, so they could help the victims recover.
That was the plausible excuse given, and yet, Jeb had to wonder. Shouldn’t anything Frankenstein-ish be destroyed lest someone be tempted to take up where previous attempts left off? After all, by all indications Kole—and his mum—were inspired by a certain American mastermind who’d had visions of grandeur. Literally. Turned out the original mad scientist was some kind of rodent that wanted to become a predator. That didn’t end well…for her.
Some people just weren’t happy with the lot they got in life. Jeb was perfectly fine being a kangaroo. It came with agility, strength, and good looks. He didn’t need anything more. Except for his angel.
Pop.
Someone hadn’t given up. Jeb fired off a shot. It wasn’t answered. He kept creeping along the hall, and at each door he found, he wedged an expander in the seam. A cool thing Jaycon had found when attending the last Spy Tech convention. An object resembling a small marble, all he had to do was press it against the seam of a door and the floor, then spit on it. Any kind of moisture made it expand, filling in the crack and then instantly hardening, sealing off entrances. Someone could still blow through it, but given that would make noise, he’d have warning if someone tried to sneak up behind him.
The hallway finally ended just as the smoke began to dissipate. He found the lone guard slumped on the floor in a bloody puddle. Oops. This one wouldn’t be talking.
Since the hallway appeared clear, he stood and noted the door he’d found at the end of the hall had a sign indicating stairs.
He tapped his earpiece, activating the microphone, and muttered, “West hallway, first floor clear.”
It took a moment before his earpiece crackled. “Hold position. Wait for backup.”
Wait. Easy for Jaycon to say. He was in the command van just outside the hidden lab’s perimeter.
Jeb’s blood was running hot. Too hot to sit still, especially since he could hear gunfire coming from the floors above him.
Were they shooting their prisoners? He couldn’t take that chance.
“I think I hear something. Heading to the stairs.”
He then tapped his earpiece to mute it and smirked as Jaycon hollered, “Moron. Wait for help. The second floor is on a separate system, and I haven’t hacked into it yet.”
And? It wasn’t like they were sneaking in at this point. Waiting could cost them.
Unlike the other doors, the stairwell wasn’t locked and gave easily. A firm shove sent it slamming against the wall, and he aimed his gun.
Nothing to see.
Bummer.
He crept up the stairs, gun pointed, and could have shouted with glee when he heard the scuff of boots overhead. Finally, some action.
He crept up, keeping quiet so as to not give warning, but he needn’t have bothered. He saw the boot first, dangling from the edge of the landing for the second floor. The body it belonged to lay prone, occasionally jiggling as the last of the blood and life eked from it. Something had done a number on the guard.
A peek through the busted door showed more bodies. Bleeding. Broken. Dead.
What happened here?
It was then he caught it, amidst the scent of violence, a hint of something beautiful. Pure. And somehow twisted.
Angel?
She’d been through here. Obviously not a victim of the violence, not yet. Had one of their experiments gotten loose?
Just in case he was wrong about her scent, he went through the door to take a closer look at the bodies and what they’d guarded. The second floor reminded him a lot of the last institute he’d raided. It held about a half-dozen cells—three oversized cages on each side, the welded metal rods only wide enough to shove a hand through.