by Amy McKinley
The neighborhood changed from city to suburbia. I wonder if Lando’s neighbors know what’s living next door to them. The houses became larger and more spaced out the closer we came to the target. Five minutes later, Jack pulled over. We slipped from the vehicle, not bothering to lock it, then set off at a fast pace between two homes. Due to security and potential motion-sensor lights, we stayed far enough from the perimeter of each house that we wouldn’t trip anything. A little over an acre, and we would be in position behind Lando’s house.
Nothing moved. The night was silent. It was too easy. But a man recently married to a hot young wife would be distracted. Even so, it was surprising not to have any guards stationed nearby. From what we’d learned, Lando was intensely jealous—having anyone around his bride wasn’t going to happen.
There was another vein of thought about his wife. Maybe she didn’t know what her husband did. That was cause to keep up pretense, and guards would alert her to the fact that he was involved in questionable business dealings.
All of that worked to our advantage.
Using hand signals, Jack and I moved as a unit to the east side of the house, intent upon entering through a window of one of the guest bedrooms. Since we’d contracted through Rich, Chris had been able to give us a diagram of the house. Even though Chris could have hacked his way into anything he needed, it was easier to use our government intel, and saving even a small amount of time helped.
Focused like a laser on the task at hand, I kept a hard lock on worrying about Red. These guys need to have answers.
With our backs to the brick, we raced along the side until we reached the guest bedroom window. “In position.” Chris had remained in the vehicle until he heard from us. Mike and Keegan would apprehend West while Chris shut off the alarms to Lando’s house on our ready. Then he would help Mike and Keegan to secure West.
“Disarmed.”
We didn’t wait another second after Chris confirmed the alarm was off. Jack stuck the suction cup to the window and depressed the laser that circled it. With a soft pop, he pulled the circle of glass out, reached in, and flipped the lock. I pushed the frame to raise the window.
Going in and out through windows was something I’d done since I was young—it was a piece of cake to get in without any noise. We moved quickly through the empty bedroom to the hallway. The noise from the refrigerator door closing told us where to go. Hopefully, that was our target.
The house was dark, save for a lone light. On quiet feet, we clung to the shadows, moving quickly toward the illuminated room. The clink of silverware against glass was the only sound. We were banking on the wife being asleep, given how late it was.
Guns raised, we rounded the corner. Too easy. A large man was bent over the counter, eating, his back to us. Jack flicked his gaze toward me, and I clenched my teeth. We crept along the hall at a fast pace. The soles of our shoes didn’t make a sound. We were the ghosts we were trained to be.
In place behind our target, Jack withdrew a syringe and popped the cap. I got into position behind South, aka Lando. I curved one arm around the big man and immobilized him, banding his arms to his sides so he couldn’t use the knife and fork in his hands. My other hand covered his mouth and pulled tightly.
Lando jerked hard and tried to shake my hold. I tightened my grip as Jack jabbed the needle into the man’s neck. His struggles slowed, and the fork slipped from his hand. Jack plucked the knife from his other. We slapped duct tape over his mouth and a hood over his head then made sure he was secure.
I hefted him over my shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Fuck. He weighed a ton, a bit of a doughboy. He must have gotten lazy at the top with no need to exercise. His guys did all the dirty work for him.
We left through the back sliding door. I would have preferred going back through the window and tossing him to the ground first, but Jack had other plans. I looked forward to apprehending East, also known as Ben Anderson, anticipating action from him. From his dossier, the boss liked to get his hands dirty and throw his weight around. He wasn’t out of shape or lazy by any means. He was a mean bastard, exactly the sort I wanted to take some aggression out on.
We hightailed it to the vehicle and dumped Lando in the back, where we secured his hands and feet with zip ties then tossed a dark blanket over him. The sedative had been a large enough dose to buy us at least two hours. Too much, and we would have had to give him a shot of adrenaline to wake his sorry ass up.
The ride took way longer than I wanted it to. It was already one in the morning, and the bars would close in an hour or so. We tried to get there before that happened to avoid patrons leaving together. The goal was to get each guy alone.
I shut my eyes as images of Red played through my mind. In the face of her abduction, I couldn’t deny my feelings any longer. I admitted to myself that I cared for her, but it was so much more than that. I liked having her around, her soft body curled against mine when we fell asleep. I even appreciated her sass. She made things lighter and not so serious. She gave me hope that I could have what several of my brothers had found with their women. I’d never thought it would be an option for me, but without her by my side, I wanted that more than anything. I was prepared to fight for a life with her.
“This is it.”
My focus snapped back to our current reality of seedy bars and stumbling drunks, which was more the scene I’d pictured when thinking of the territory heads.
The bar was a few buildings up the block, and Jack had parked in the alley behind it. Lando would be fine sleeping in the back. We would lock the car that time. It wouldn’t stop anyone if they were dead set on breaking in, but it would deter the drunks.
For the time being, we waited near the back door of the bar, where East—or Anderson—was. We took position in the darkest part of the bar, out of view of the single light above the rear exit. From our intel, he often left that way.
Twenty minutes passed. That would have been nothing for me, but with the stakes as high as they were, I wanted to bust down the door and drag Anderson out. To hell with stealth.
I signaled at Jack: five more minutes. If Anderson didn’t leave, we would go get him.
The rear door burst open, and men poured into the alley, looking as though they were coming to us. They were unaware of our presence, and we slipped behind them seamlessly.
Surrounded by five linebacker-sized men, one in front, one on each side of him, and two behind, Anderson walked toward a row of black cars. Smoke curled in the air from his lit cigarette. His guards were obviously packing. We needed to take out as many as we could before guns were drawn.
We would start with the guys in the rear. Then our surprise attack would end. The butt of my gun thwacked the back of one of the thugs at the same time that Jack struck another. The men fell, and we stepped around them to make ourselves parallel with the guys on either side of Anderson.
My guy raised his gun. I grabbed his wrist, crowding him. With a twist, my elbow smashed into his nose. He gripped his gun tightly and squeezed off a shot. I rammed my shoulder into him as the front guy came around. Another shot exploded. The front man missed. Side Guy covered me, and the bullet went wide.
Twisting Side Guy’s arm away, I moved to kick Front Man in the gut. Jack fought both Anderson and the other side guy. He was holding his own. I focused on taking my two down.
I slammed an elbow into Side Guy’s face. He recovered faster than I liked. Another shot rang out. Front Man was standing again, even after the hit to his gut from my foot. Side Guy was a pain in the ass.
With a punch to the gut, Side Guy doubled over. I twisted and wrapped my arm around his head. My hip jammed into him, and with a tug, he sailed over my shoulder. The two men crashed together.
I froze. The barrel of Anderson’s gun was pointed at my head. He was too far for me to grab it—not Jack, though. Jack kicked his elbow, and the shot went wide.
Front Man recovered and stumbled to his feet.
Jack’s guy was out cold.
He took over Anderson again. My head snapped back, and I grinned. Front Man got in a good shot. Anderson was also a pain in the ass. He shouted orders the entire time. Watch the gun. Anderson waved it around.
I grabbed Front Man and flipped him around like a human shield just as Anderson took aim and fired. My shield jerked as the bullets struck his chest and gut.
Jack kicked out and connected again with Anderson’s elbow. This time, a crack sounded. I flinched. That has to hurt like hell. Probably broken. The gun fell and clanged against the pavement. Without waiting a beat, Jack delivered a solid punch to Anderson’s face and then his gut.
Anderson dropped to his knees, moaning. Fucking baby. We barely touched him, except for the elbow. Wait until later. Jack slapped duct tape over his mouth and a black hood on his head then finished securing him with zip ties.
Although it was satisfying fighting Anderson’s bodyguards, I would have preferred to get to the storage unit so we could extract information. Irritation coursed through me at the delay in finding Red, and I lashed out at Jack. “This would have gone a lot faster if I’d taken point on the roof.”
Chapter 28
Hawk
The door to the storage room slammed shut behind me. Jack was already through with South, aka Lando, a deadweight over his shoulder. My steps faltered when I saw the arranged room. Hannah must have stopped to set it up. She had even more experience than Keegan—we would probably never get her to tell us how much she knew about torture. After all, Hannah had lived through many sessions at the hands of her Russian trainers.
Four chairs faced the corners. None of the territory heads would be able to see each other, but they would be able to hear one another. Maybe it would speed things along.
Intense information extraction wasn’t what we usually did, but Rich had a point. We would learn where Red, Rex, or Mole was. Not only that, but Rich wanted any news we got about Tridel so he could use it in his federal investigation.
East, aka Anderson, bucked against my hold. I tossed him onto the metal chair, and it tipped over. The thwack of his head against the cement was a sick sound, and he stilled for a few seconds. It had to have hurt like hell.
I righted the chair. Working fast, I sliced through the plastic that previously held his ankles and wrists together before pulling out new ties. Both front chair legs had a foot secured, and I yanked his arms back and re-tied them to the metal arms. I wrapped a nylon rope around his chest and waist to tether him further, since he was such a squirrely fucker.
Lando hadn’t woken yet, and Jack got him secured before I finished with Anderson. I kept the hood over his head—there was no need for him to see either of us. The door crashed against the metal wall, and Keegan walked in with a sinister grin and eyes that sparkled with dark intent.
Each corner station had its own set of tools—mine had a tray with different knives. I looked over and saw that Keegan had a similar setup. He dumped North, or Stan Jones, aka Porch Guy, into the chair and delivered an immediate punch to his gut, stilling him long enough to get the zip ties in place.
Oh, hell. Keegan picked up a curved blade that looked like it could have been a Middle Eastern Shotel. “Why do you get that?” I had knife envy. Not for torture, but because it was cool.
“Because I know how to use it.” His eyes narrowed to slits, and if I were Porch Guy, I would have thought my time was up right then and there. Keegan finished securing his guy, as did Mike.
Chris was the only one not manning an interrogation station. Mike grabbed his guy’s face, tilting his chin way up. “You’re in for a treat. We have someone else coming to take care of you.”
Hannah would be taking over for Mike. That’s why Mike’s guy was stretched out on the floor, his hands and feet secured and tethered. There was a bucket of water with what looked like an extra-large plastic cup bobbing around the top. That would suck. We’d had to endure that during one of our SEALs training exercises.
“You were contacted?” I directed my vague question to Mike. If Hannah was coming, that meant she must have let him know. Had she learned anything?
“Yep. She’ll be about ten minutes.”
I turned to Jack. “We having a meeting, then?” I wanted to know if Hannah had found Rex, but most of all, I wanted to know about Red.
He nodded, his focus still on Lando. Impatience churned in my gut. I wanted to get started. A scream sliced through our triple-sized storage unit—it appeared that Keegan had the same thought. His prompts to gain intel weren’t heard. There was only a low rumble of voice. Extracting information wasn’t my thing. It was Keegan and Hannah’s. But I had no problem getting my hands dirty today.
With deft fingers, I loosened the hood and tore the duct tape from Anderson’s mouth. Bloodshot eyes glared at me. His chest heaved, but he didn’t utter a sound from the discomfort of the adhesive tearing off a fine layer of skin.
I looked over the tray and chose a small three-inch blade. I stepped closer, leaning by Anderson’s ear, close enough that only he heard me, but with enough distance that he couldn’t attempt to shift and hit me. Not that the ropes had give, but his head wasn’t secured.
“We’re going to start with three questions. If you answer the first truthfully, your punishment will be lessened a great deal.”
Tucking the blade against my palm, I grasped either side of his button-down sleeves and yanked until the fabric tore. They fell to bunch around his elbows. His arms weren’t where I wanted to start, but misdirecting and confusing him would only heighten his fear.
“Where is Stella being held?” Fucker had better tell me.
Screams crested from Keegan’s corner, and I forced myself not to look up. The guy had it coming. He took pleasure in people burning.
From the silence to my right, I figured Mike hadn’t yet begun. Chris was in the other room—we’d opened two of the units to make a larger space. The third, we’d connected with a door through the wall to use as an office of sorts, should we need it.
That was where Chris had gone. He’d sent drones out and was scouring the city for any sign of Rex or Mole. It was dark, but the drones could pick up facial recognition, and Chris was on it. Hopefully, it wasn’t too limited, and they’d pass through a streetlight or something. So long as Rex or Mole left whatever hole they were in, we would be good.
Silence met my first question, and I wasn’t going to ask it again. The tip of my blade pierced Anderson’s right thigh, and I shoved it in to the hilt.
Anderson panted, hissing through his teeth, but gave no other indication to the pain. Guess I’ll have to up things to get a better reaction. With the knife still in his leg, I repeated my question. “Where is the woman being held?”
Anderson rumbled with a deep laugh. “Fuck you.”
I grinned. Let the games begin. Before I asked again, I glanced to my left to see what Jack was up to.
Jack had removed Lando’s shoes and socks. Gun in hand, he tied Lando’s hands. Before he woke him with the smelling salts on his tray, he dropped a flat, narrow board on the floor that had nails hammered all the way through. One-inch sharp metal tips pointed to the ceiling.
Jack reached under the hood and held the salts to the man slumped in the chair. Seconds passed before Lando regained any semblance of consciousness. The guy was probably still groggy. I bet Jack’s getting impatient. I grinned when I saw what was in his hand. Jack jabbed the needle into Lando’s chest and administered adrenaline. Lando jerked, suddenly fully awake.
Then Jack jammed the barrel of his 9mm into the center of Lando’s forehead. Even through the black hood, the immediate threat would register. Jack issued orders. It began for Lando.
“Stand.”
Lando stood, his hands clenched into fists and his right arm thrust wide, missing Jack completely.
Jack pulled the gun back, and with a quick strike, he slammed the butt of it into Lando’s temple. He didn’t hit him that hard, as Lando remained on his feet. With the barrel back against Lando’s forehead,
Jack snapped, “Inch your left foot forward. Squat down.” It took another disciplinary action for Lando to follow. It was interesting. I administered another stab to Anderson for not responding as I’d warned then checked to see what Jack was planning.
Blood dripped through the hood from the twist Jack applied to his nose. Once Lando was in position, Jack had him lift his right heel off the floor. Jack traded his gun for a wooden cane.
“Hold position.” Jack slid the exposed nails beneath Lando’s heels. “If you drop your heel, you’ll impale it on a bed of nails. If your hands touch the floor, they’ll be caned.” He wacked the side of the wooden cane against the concrete for effect. “If you drop the squat, you’ll be shot in the leg and forced to hold an equally painful position.”
Damn, military squats were hell, and pain had to be spreading through Lando at that very moment. It never took long for the effects of the squat to hit. Once more, Jack stood, and the questions began. “Where is Stella? Where is your boss? Where are Rex and Vince?”
We weren’t sure if they knew Mole’s real name, Blaze, so we used his alias, Vince. The head boss may have been privy to it, but these guys were on a need-to-know basis.
Keegan was across from me, and I couldn’t see what he was doing—I could only hear. It was enough to send chills through all of us. I trusted him with my life, but the guys we had were as good as dead. Keegan had never told us how he’d learned his methods. By unspoken understanding, I hadn’t pushed. I had my secrets and my own shame, but it was all out in the open in that storage unit.
While Jack maintained vigilance with Lando, Mike stretched his guy, West, or Henry. Mike roped his arms and legs and secured them to a bolt in the wall. Henry’s hands were extended overhead with the end loop beneath the metal chair Mike sat on, waiting for Hannah’s arrival, which was about a minute later.
Hannah swept inside, her silvery-blond hair coiled in a tight bun as she unbuttoned her light coat. A small grin curved her lips as her gaze met Jack’s. The cry to her right drew her attention, and she paused to see what Keegan was up to.