“But I could see the way you were going, so I set up a little blackmail scheme instead. Did you enjoy that, Devon? Did you enjoy knowing that I could take it all away with the press of a button? That’s how much I control you. I can take it all! I will take it all!” He smiles smugly. “I want the assets of DMA Solutions transferred into my name. With immediate effect. Thirty-one minutes.”
The boss stares at him blankly, keeping his emotions in check.
“You’re too late, Freddie. The deal with Taiwan was signed this morning: five billion dollars, probably before you were awake. Your friends at Consolidated Iron aren’t going to be very happy with you, are they?”
For the first time, Landon seems uncertain, and the boss presses home the slight advantage as I take half a step closer.
“That’s why you used Dolores Quinlan to lure Maria out here.”
“Not just her.”
Anderson blinks.
“Then who?”
“Isn’t that an interesting question,” Landon laughs.
The boss plows on.
“I’ll help you, Freddie. I’ll protect you, pay off whatever you owe. Just … please, call an ambulance for Maria right now.”
Landon’s eyes have a crazed light about them as he listens to the boss talking. His throat bobs, but the gun wavers only slightly.
“Do you really think I care about her or your little bastard? She shouldn’t have been in the way. You and I were perfect together: perfect in bed and perfect in business.”
Anderson cradles Maria in his arms, his eyes on her face.
“No, Freddie. We were imperfect in every possible way. But you didn’t need to spy on me. Although Howard is taking apart your pet blackmailer right now. You didn’t need to sell secrets to my competitors. You’ve lost, Freddie. But you know what? Even when I realized you’d betrayed me … three-hundred and fifty million dollars, was that the last offer? I would have given you the money.”
It’s at this point that Landon realizes he’s on the brink of losing everything. There are too many people here who know the truth about his crooked business dealings, including Anderson. From the look on his face, Landon hadn’t counted on that. But if he kills Anderson, Maria and me, he still has a chance to get rid of the evidence. The police would be chasing Kranz’s nameless, faceless accomplice, never guessing that Anderson’s ‘close family friend’ was the killer. Landon could simply be a sucker who helped a friend with bail money. Mason’s evidence was gained illegally—it could never be used in a court of law. And I doubt that Landon’s mafia connections would be made known. Hell, up until this moment, I had no clue that he’d go this far.
Landon’s eyes glitter as he licks his lips. He lowers the gun to point it at Maria.
“I think I’ll take you up on that offer, Devon. And the price is five hundred million—I think that’s fair. After all, I made you the man you are today. So take out your phone, and transfer the money to this account. It’s untraceable, by the way.”
He tosses a piece of paper at Anderson’s feet.
If I can just work my way around behind him and…
“Trainer, stop skulking in the shadows.”
His voice is strong, mocking, and full of murderous intent.
“Rachel would be so disappointed that her knight in rusty armor can’t save her.”
My lungs freeze as Landon laughs.
Oh God, this monster has Rachel?
“Did you really think I didn’t know about the two of you? Panting after her like the bitch in heat she is? She’ll be very upset that you’ve screwed up so badly.”
“Where is she?”
I try to disguise my voice so it’s harder for Landon to tell which direction it’s coming from.
“She didn’t seem very anxious to come with me, but when I told her that you were injured and needed her, she was much more compliant. I was very convincing, if I do say so myself. And as for Miss Quinlan, she was pathetically eager to ‘save’ her little spic friend.”
I don’t reply, pressing further into the dusty shadows of the abandoned building.
“I’m going to count to five, Trainer. And then I’m going to shoot Maria in the head, and this time I won’t miss.”
Anderson’s face has lost all color.
“Do that and you’ll never get a cent from me…”
“Shut up, Devon. You are a severe disappointment. I trained you. I taught you. I gave you the tools to be the businessman you are today: controlled, calculating, emotionless. You could have been great. But now look at you, reduced to a pathetic, sniveling mess.”
One of the youngest billionaires in the US isn’t successful enough for him? The thought is irrelevant and random. I need to focus.
“And you will give me the money. Even when your dear Maria is singing with the Angels, I’m sure you wouldn’t want the blood of Miss Quinlan and Mrs. Smith on your hands, too.” He turns his head an inch to the right. “I’m waiting, Trainer. Throw your gun out and walk towards me with your hands on your head, or I’ll shoot the bitch, and I’ll enjoy it.”
I tighten my grip on the Smith & Wesson, watching for any sign of weakness or hesitation.
I see none.
“Five.”
I inch closer, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Maria.
I can see the boss’s muscles tense, as if he’s preparing to make his move.
“Four.”
I creep closer, but the angle is all wrong. If I try to shoot Landon from here, I could kill Anderson.
“Three.”
Where the fuck is backup?
“Two.”
Shit!
“One…”
“Okay! I’m coming out.”
I slide the Smith & Wesson toward Landon, hoping that I’ve judged the distance correctly.
It stops a few feet from him: too far for him to reach it.
I yank Kranz’s gun from my waistband, aiming at Landon while I surge forward in a diving roll. Anderson’s eyes widen with understanding and he explodes into action, throwing himself forward and across Maria’s body. Landon pulls the trigger, but he’s off balance and the bullet ricochets with an eerie shriek just inches from Maria and Anderson.
I roll and shoot in one smooth movement, then keep going. The bullet hits Landon in the center of his chest, throwing him backwards, a look of surprise on his face. His finger jerks on the trigger, and I feel a searing pain across my lower back.
I’ve been shot. I can tell that it’s just a flesh wound as I stagger to my feet.
“Where’s Rachel?”
I tower over Landon, watching the blood pool beneath his body. He’s dying. The bullet has gone through a lung, and from the amount of blood I’m seeing, I’d guess it’s severed a major artery.
“Where is she?”
Landon doesn’t speak, he just laughs, coughing up blood that’s so dark it’s nearly black, his hand still holding the gun, even as his eyes close, the life draining out of him.
I put a second bullet into Landon’s head. This time he stays down, and takes his secrets to Hell.
I can hear the sound of sirens coming closer and Anderson yelling into his cell phone. I have just a few seconds to cover my tracks. I clean my fingerprints from Kranz’s gun, hoping like hell I’ve done a good enough job, then I press the pistol into Kranz’s hand. I nearly have a heart attack when it twitches and I realize that the bastard isn’t dead.
I leave my Smith & Wesson where it is.
I don’t know how the boss will want to play this, about Landon, but I don’t have a chance to ask him.
Four cruisers skid to a halt and police pour out, weapons drawn. I grab my ID and raise my hands in the air.
Thank Christ that Evans is with them.
“We need an ambulance,” I order, pointing to Maria, ignoring the piece of shit at my feet. “She’s been shot and she’s pregnant—in the first trimester.”
The police take over. It takes three of them to pry Anderson from Maria who’s
beginning to come around.
“Let them help her,” I say urgently, grabbing his arm and pointing toward the paramedics. “They can help her.”
He staggers back and nods.
“Oh, God! Maria.”
I kneel down next to her, ignoring the slicing pain and the blood running down my leg.
“Maria, where’s Rachel and Dolores?”
“I … I’m not sure. He took them, I think.”
“Where? Where did he take them?”
She shakes her head, then passes out.
“Sir, I need to find the women.”
I think Anderson hasn’t heard me, hasn’t seen me, but then he looks up.
“Anything you need: money, men, just do it.”
Maria is moved to the ambulance and Anderson sits beside her, holding her hand, his eyes fixed on her pale face, his mouth moving wordlessly.
The ambulance’s red, flickering lights fade into the distance.
I want to follow, to try and get some answers from Maria, but the police are all over my ass, and I have to stay and deal.
I make an executive decision to lie my nuts off. The story I give is that Dolores was with Rachel when Kranz forced her to call Maria, and I have no clue why Landon was at the warehouse. But my main concern is Rachel, not the holes in my hastily patched together story.
I send Evans to guard the boss and Maria at the hospital. He tries to get me to go with him so that my wound can be seen to, but finding Rachel and Dolores is top priority.
Damn it, Maria! Why didn’t she ask for our help? A heartbeat. In a heartbeat, we’d have done whatever she needed.
Now she’s being rushed to the hospital and Rachel and Dolores are still missing. Evans promises to phone Maria’s grandfather and get her brothers to the hospital.
The police are securing the area and a team of Crime Scene Investigators are on their way.
Paramedics work on Kranz, and to my surprise, it looks like the fucker will make it.
He’s conscious but incoherent, crying and blubbing uselessly. I want to shake the truth out of him. He holds the key to this. If Landon trusted him—or blackmailed him into helping—he knows more than he’s telling. Not that he’s telling anyone anything at the moment. A woman officer is trying to calm him down as the paramedics work to stem the bleeding.
I interrupt Kranz’s mindless, pathetic sniveling and get in his face, ignoring the police officer.
“Where’s Rachel Smith and Dolores Quinlan?”
“W-w-what?”
He wipes an arm across his bloody, tear-stained face.
“Don’t fuck with me, you sick bastard!”
“Hey!” yells the cop. “Back off, buddy!”
I ignore her and the paramedics and haul Kranz up by his jacket.
“WHERE IS RACHEL?”
He points a shaking finger to the crumbling stairs. The police officer yells a question, but I’m off and running, cops trailing behind, the woman cop flanking me, her weapon in her hand.
The stairwell is dark, the steps littered with rubbish and used syringes. I stumble as I race upward, thankful when the cop behind me switches on her flashlight.
On the next floor, we work like a team, entering the room low, checking the perimeter. I immediately see a door at the back that’s locked with a shiny, new padlock on the front of a steel door. This is it, I know it!
“We’ll need a crowbar to open this,” says the woman cop.
I want to shoot the lock, but if Rachel is on the other side, I could end up hurting her. Plus, that’s a steel door and ricochets are fucking dangerous.
I spot a pile of scaffolding poles and drag one out, using it as a lever. The door won’t budge.
“Fuck!”
The woman cop adds her weight, trying to force the lock, then two more cops run over and finally, finally we manage to pry the door open.
I hope Landon hasn’t booby-trapped this door, or I’ll be going out in a fucking blaze of glory. My last thought before I yank open the door is that Rachel would be so pissed at me.
The padlock hangs in a mangled heap and I enter crouching down, keeping low, reducing my profile. The woman cop has my back.
The room is pitch black, but the rest of the cops are pouring in behind us with their flashlights.
I shout out, my voice ringing through the vast space.
“RACHEL!”
No answer.
I peer through the darkness, and one of the cops shines a beam of light and I see the bright halo of Rachel’s blonde hair.
She’s lying on the floor with Dolores next to her. Thin rope is looped around their wrists, ankles, and neck.
I sink to the floor next to her, so fucking afraid.
Rachel’s shirt is ripped open and I can see the rose pink bra she’s wearing. I bought that for her.
Bile burns my throat but I focus on the job.
I check her pulse.
“She’s still breathing.” Thank you, God.
Dolores’ chest moves with shallow breaths, but her eyes are closed and her color sallow. She doesn’t look good.
I hear one of the police officers calling for another ambulance.
Rachel’s eyes flutter open.
“Justin?”
“I’m right here, baby. You’re going to be fine. An ambulance is on its way. Does it hurt anywhere?”
Tears leak from her eyes.
“I’ve been so stupid, Justin,” and her fingers scrabble for my hand.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “You’re safe now.”
“I d-don’t remember anything after that man … I knew I shouldn’t, but he said you were hurt … I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. And Dolores was there…”
“It’s okay,” I repeat. “You’re fine.”
“I … I can’t move my legs!” she gasps, starting to panic.
“Stay calm, sweetheart.”
“Justin! I can’t move my legs!”
She starts to thrash around but I grab her shoulders, forcing her to look at me.
“Rachel!”
She starts to sob, and I crouch down next to her and pull her into my chest.
She seems so shattered, so broken. I stroke her hair and promise everything will be fine. I hope I’m not lying.
Without speaking, I take out my Ka-bar combat knife and cut the thin cords that bind her. She curls into my body, her tears soaking the collar of my shirt.
We stay there until paramedics try to put her on a stretcher, but she starts to panic.
“Don’t leave me!” she begs.
I scoop her up and stagger to my feet, wincing from the pain in my back and leg as I carry her down the narrow staircase to the waiting ambulance, while the paramedics take Dolores on a stretcher.
“I won’t leave you,” I reassure her urgently.
Tears still leak from her eyes.
“Are you angry with me, Justin?”
“So angry,” I say, stroking her cheek.
Her eyes squeeze shut as she tries to fight back more tears.
I lift her into the ambulance and paramedics load Dolores into another.
Rachel holds tightly to my hand the entire journey. I ignore the paramedics and phone Mason, filling him in on the situation.
“We lost Banner—his family will need to be told. He has … had … a brother in Indiana.”
Mason swears.
“We’ve punched out of the Marines—there aren’t supposed to be casualties anymore!”
Mason tells me that Howard has outsmarted Saruman for the last time, and Mason’s team have gone to pick him up. A news channel found one of the home videos featuring a ‘top businessman and senior senator’ and are sensing a story, but with the images still blurred, it’s unlikely that they’ll ever figure out that the senator and Anderson were in the starring roles.
Mason does his job and when we arrive at the hospital, we’re met by security, and a team of two doctors and three nurses.
“They’re going to take good care o
f you, baby,” I say, my voice breaking.
“Don’t leave me,” Rachel begs again.
“Never, baby. Never.”
One of the nurses tries to stop me from following them. I think I’m annoying her by dripping blood all over her nice floor, but I don’t give a shiny shit.
“How’s she doing, T?” asks Evans
“She’s going to be fine,” I say gruffly. “My girl is tough.”
“Fuck, man. I’m so sorry.”
Rachel dips in and out of consciousness. There’s no sign of trauma, so their best guess is that she’s been drugged. Dolores hasn’t woken up yet.
“We’ll draw some blood to do tests, but I’d say they’ve both been given benzodiazepine, probably a large dose of Valium. We’ll keep an eye on Mrs. Smith’s breathing, but in all likelihood, she’ll be able to sleep it off.”
Hearing those words makes my knees buckle.
“And if you want to be of any use to her whatsoever when she wakes up, you’ll let me take a look at that bullet wound. You must have lost a pint of blood by now.”
I nod and let him lead me to the next bed to patch me up.
Evans sits with Rachel while they work on me. I want someone with her every second. Evans understands what this means to me, and I trust him.
Eventually, I’m stitched up, and have been given a couple of shots: one for the pain and one an antibiotic. My pants are ruined and my clothes are covered in blood and filth from the condemned building.
A nurse finds me some scrubs to wear, and I limp back to sit by Rachel.
Evans stands up when he sees me and shakes my hand. We exchange a look that says more than words.
“Any change?”
“She’s sleeping. The doc says she’ll be okay. How are you holding up, T?
“Vertical. Breathing. How’s Dolores?”
“Out of danger.”
“And Mrs. Anderson? Maria?”
“Her brothers are here and the grandfather. But when they told him the news, they had to put the old guy on oxygen. He’ll be okay—just the shock, you know?” He smiles. “But Mrs. A. is fine, just a flesh wound, but they’re keeping her in to monitor her overnight.”
I feel intense relief at the news and let myself relax one level.
“I’m staying with Rachel, but find out all you can. And I want to know where they’ve taken Kranz. I want to know exactly which room he’s in. The police will be guarding him—make sure he’s secure. And I want it fucking yesterday!”
Jane Harvey-Berrick Saving The Billionaire Page 27