Necessary Pursuit (A Trinity Masters Novel)

by Lila Dubois

  Oscar could run to Selene’s defense, demand Wayne release her, stop him from forcibly keeping her safe…

  Or he could finish what she’d started.

  Snapping the lid of the laptop closed, he tossed it onto a chair, and walked out the door.

  It was Luca Campisi—now that he was half out of the car, Oscar could confirm his identity based on the photos they’d been shown in the aftermath of Langston’s drama. When Oscar walked out, he hesitated for only a moment, then finished exiting and closed the door.

  “Langston,” Luca said in an elegant Italian accent. “I’m here to teach you how to defuse the bomb and to beg you to destroy your copy of the plans.”

  Langston.

  Oh fuck.

  More than once, he and his brothers had played identical triplets’ tricks, switching places in an attempt to fool teachers or friends. He’d portrayed Langston more than a few times in his life, but never when the stakes were so high.

  “I’m listening.” Oscar held his hands up to show that he meant no harm, on the off chance Luca did have a weapon and got nervous. He lowered them quickly, not wanting Luca to mistake his trembling as fear. In truth, it was fucking freezing outside, and Oscar was only in his boxers.

  Luca hesitated, remaining by the car a full minute before taking a couple tentative steps toward Oscar. He stopped for just a moment when Selene stepped back on the porch, then continued to the house.

  Oscar did his best to look nonthreatening while placing himself slightly in front of Selene and ignoring the sounds coming from inside the house. Bill and Wayne had better keep quiet or Luca would hear them.

  Luca looked like he’d seen better days. His medium-brown hair was shaggy and in bad need of a trim, and his clothing looked as if he’d slept in them more than a few nights. He was still too far away for Oscar to make out the shape or color of his eyes, but he could see the black-framed glasses he wore. If Oscar had passed this man on the street, he never would have noticed him. At first glance, he was the very definition of nondescript. No wonder he’d managed to evade capture. There wasn’t anything in the man’s face that screamed “mad bomber.” Instead, Luca just looked like any other Joe Schmoe.

  “Did you—or you, Dr. Tanaka—give the plans to anyone?” Luca asked, sounding both resigned and worried.

  “No,” Selene said slowly.

  “No. How do you defuse it?” Oscar countered. The question was a test because what Luca couldn’t know was that they already knew how to defuse the bomb.

  Luca sagged…in relief. He muttered something in Italian, then glanced at Selene and smiled. “Dr. Tanaka, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve read many of your papers.”

  “Crap, I’m a supervillain by association,” she muttered.

  Oscar snorted out a laugh. Their reactions were completely at odds with the seriousness of the situation, but it was either make a joke or freak the fuck out.

  “You want to make sure you’re the one who gets to start the nuclear war?” Oscar asked.

  Luca shook his head frantically. “No, no. The plans are…” He stopped and looked away.

  Oscar narrowed his eyes. Something wasn’t right here.

  Selene adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. “The particle accelerator in your schematics wasn’t detailed enough to explain how you were going to get an accelerator that size to get a neuron up to the speed necessary to break neptunium. You could—”

  “Don’t give the bad guy suggestions!” Oscar yelped in alarm.

  Selene pursed her lips.

  Luca was frowning as he looked back and forth between them, pointedly looking at their attire—a pair of boxers and a T-shirt all they had between the two of them—as both eyebrows crept up. “I had thought you were with Ms. Edwards.”

  “The woman you kidnaped, strapped a bomb to, and terrorized?” Oscar snarled. Luca was talking about Mina, his new sister-in-law. He might not have been a fan when they first met, mostly because, as Langston’s arranged-marriage wife, she was walking/talking proof he wouldn’t be getting his brother out of the cult, but now she was family, and Luca needed to pay for what he’d done to her.

  Luca looked away. The guy was a good actor because he looked genuinely ashamed, almost sickened.

  “Why neptunium?” Selene asked.

  “Never mind why.” Oscar frowned. “Why are you here?”

  “We probably should have started there,” Selene muttered.

  “I came to tell you how to defuse the bomb. It is an unholy thing.”

  “So it works…you’ve tested it?” Selene’s voice trembled a little.

  “I’ve tested individual components, never a full-scale test, and run computer models.”

  “Again. Why are you telling us this?”

  “Because those who would make the bomb must be stopped.”

  “‘Those who would make the bomb.’ That’s you. You’re the one who wants to make it,” Oscar snapped.

  “No, no…I…” Luca stopped then seemed to sag again. “I designed it, yes, but I do not wish to see it used.”

  “He designed it,” Oscar murmured.

  “Remember the thermal exhaust port,” Selene breathed so low, he could barely hear.

  “I do,” he replied in the same nearly inaudible whisper. “Fuck. Why is this cult shit always so complicated?” To Luca, he called out, “You designed the bomb?”

  Luca nodded slowly. “Yes. What I have done is unforgivable, but that does not mean I want to see it used.”

  He was the designer, not the builder. Well, shit, that changed things.

  “‘In some crude sense the physicists have known sin.’” Selene looked grim.

  “And become destroyers of worlds,” Luca said in apparent agreement.

  “Oppenheimer?” Oscar asked, fairly sure that’s what the destroyers of worlds’ comment was in relation to.

  “Yes.” Selene tipped her head to the side as she studied Luca. “You’re the city-killer bomb’s designer?”

  “City killer. Yes, that is a good name for it.” Luca walked toward them until he stood at the foot of the steps. “And I would build it, if I had to.”

  “If you regret designing it, then why would you build it?” Selene demanded.

  Luca held out his hands. “Nessun sente da che parte preme la scarpa, se non chi se la calza.”

  “Do you speak Italian?” Selene asked Oscar.

  “Nope. You?”

  “Translated, it is ‘no one feels which way the shoe is pressing, if not who is wearing it.’ But the meaning is…” Luca lowered his hands. “I think the meaning is close to ‘needs must, when the devil drives.’”

  Selene touched his arm, and Oscar looked at her. He had a feeling they were both thinking the same thing. The combined brain power of himself, his brother, and Selene had been enough not only to figure out that the schematics were for a nuclear bomb…

  …but to find the built-in redundancy.

  An exploitable flaw, like the thermal exhaust port on the Death Star. A flaw whose existence only made sense if the designer had been working under duress.

  Selene started walking down the stairs. Oscar grabbed the collar of his shirt, stopping her, though she was now only two steps above Luca. He loosened his grip when he remembered she had nothing on under it, so if he pulled it up too much, this would become a peep show on top of everything else.

  “Who made you design the bomb?” she asked Luca softly.

  His eyes widened. “How did you—”

  Bill and Wayne chose that moment to storm out onto the porch, guns in hand.

  Luca cursed and backpedaled toward his car. Bill leapt down the steps and grabbed him in a choke hold. Wayne wrapped an arm around Selene’s waist, hauling her up the steps and shoving Oscar, forcing him back into the house. The instant they were inside, Oscar yanked the other man’s arm off of Selene and pushed her behind him.

  “What the fuck are you—”

  Bill hauled Luca inside and forced him to his
knees. Wayne grabbed his arms, holding them—though Luca wasn’t struggling—and Bill placed zip cuffs around his wrists, binding them behind his back.

  “I’m glad you listened and aren’t shooting him,” Selene said.

  “He has friends incoming.” Bill jerked his head to the laptop, which was open on a beat-up oak console table near the front door.

  Oscar and Selene looked at the camera feeds. Oscar now knew the emotional reality of the phrase “pants-shittingly terrified.”

  The thermal image cameras—the ones farthest from the house—showed half a dozen red and yellow shapes, people walking at a crouch, moving toward them. The camera feed switched, and another half dozen figures were approaching from another angle.

  “What the fuck?” Oscar snapped, anger so much easier than fear.

  “This house is good for protection and defense against a lone assailant,” Wayne said grimly. “If we’d known we would be defending against a military-style assault…”

  “Who are they?” Bill demanded as he hauled Luca to his feet.

  “I don’t know,” Luca blinked at them.

  “You’d better hope you do because you’re now our hostage,” Bill said coolly. “Your life depends on them standing down.”

  “They won’t,” Luca said quietly. “Because I do not know them.”

  “I think he’s telling the truth,” Selene said.

  “Ma’am, he’s a clear and direct—”

  “Listen,” Oscar snapped. “You don’t have all the information. We do. He designed the bomb under duress. We knew from the plans that the designer wanted to have a way to stop the bomb.”

  Bill blinked. “Like the guy who designed the Death Star?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then who are they?” Wayne asked, gesturing to the computer.

  As one, they turned to look at Luca. “I truly do not know.”

  “Think hard,” Bill snapped.

  “Who cares who they are?” Selene asked. “How do we stop them?”

  “We’ve called it in and Bennett is making a formal request for a police SWAT unit to support us.”

  “Can’t we just call nine-one-one? Would that be faster?” Oscar demanded.

  Bill pointed at the computer. “They’re moving like a military unit. Nine-one-one would send a single squad car. and the cops would be dead before they got to us.”

  “Who do you work for?” Wayne shook Luca by the shoulder.

  “Hey,” Oscar snapped. “Let’s focus on the other bad guys.”

  “Our orders—”

  “The situation is fluid. Keep up,” Selene interjected.

  Oscar grinned. Damn, she was amazing.

  “Langston, Dr. Tanaka, you…you found the defect I made?” Luca sounded relieved and maybe a little hopeful.

  “Yes.” Selene glanced at Oscar. “I’m putting on clothes.”

  “Bring me pants.”

  She dashed up the stairs and Oscar went to face down Luca. He looked at the other man, hoping he could see…he wasn’t sure what. He wasn’t the one who was good at reading people. That was Sylvia. He thought he saw…sadness, resignation. The other man looked almost weary.

  “What the fuck’s going on, man?”

  “I thought I could change the world.”

  “With a bomb?”

  “With a powerful, renewable energy source.”

  “Harness the power of the sun?” Oscar asked, recalling what Selene had said at that now-infamous meeting, which felt like it had happened a lifetime ago instead of only last week.

  “Yes. But my personal situation is…” Luca looked away. “Langston, you must understand—”

  “Actually, I’m Oscar.”

  Luca sputtered. “What?”

  “I’m Oscar. Not Langston.”

  “Your name is not Langston?”

  “I’m Langston’s brother. We’re triplets.”

  “Ah, that explains why you seemed so different.” He glanced toward the stairs. “And I’m glad Langston was not cheating on Ms. Edwards.”

  This conversation was surreal. Oscar had had enough. “Listen, dipshit—”

  “Dipshit…” Luca sounded it out.

  “What the fuck is going on? Who made you design the bomb? That’s who is probably coming toward us.”

  Selene—who’d thrown on jeans, a hoodie, and tennis shoes—raced down the stairs and threw pants, shoes, and a shirt at him. She nearly got knocked down by Wayne, who raced by securing the house. Heavy metal internal shutters now blocked all the windows, leaving them standing in murky darkness.

  “I cannot tell you that.”

  “Try again,” Oscar snapped, pulling on his pants. “You’re going to tell us.”

  “I. Can. Not.” Luca enunciated slowly, some of the resignation retreating as his shoulders stiffened with anger.

  “You don’t know,” Selene said.

  Luca shook his head. “There is no other way to say—”

  “You made some sort of unbreakable vow or promise,” Selene cut him off. She was studying the Italian man intently. Oscar realized what she was doing and stayed quiet.

  “If I could—” Luca began apologetically.

  “They have something on you.”

  Luca went completely still, but then shook his head a little too quickly. “No, no, it’s not—”

  Selene refused to relent. “They have someone. They have someone you love as a hostage.”

  Luca looked at her, his eyes unblinking, his body unnaturally still. Oscar wasn’t sure the man was even breathing at the moment. He was obviously terrified to show any sign of emotion, that by doing so, he would reveal the truth. What he didn’t realize was his utter motionlessness was the most revealing tell of all.

  “Fuck,” Oscar said quietly as he slipped on his shoes and shirt.

  “We can help you,” Selene assured Luca.

  Bill raced to them, shoving all three of them toward the basement. The man’s face was stark. If Oscar hadn’t thrown out a hand, he would have tumbled headlong down the stairs, Bill was pushing them so hard.

  “What the fuck, man? We—”

  “They have a breaching device. SWAT isn’t here. You three hide. We’ll hold them off.”

  The last word was lost when the sound of something heavy hit the front door, reverberating through the whole house.

  Oscar grabbed Luca, whose arms were still behind his back, and hurried him down the stairs, Selene steadying him from behind. Bill watched them as they made it to the bottom, then he closed the door, sealing them into darkness.

  The house shuddered again, and a moment later, the sound of gunshots rang out.

  Chapter Four

  The sounds coming from the house above them quieted and then stopped altogether.

  “Is the SWAT team here?” Selene whispered.

  “Hopefully, they don’t shoot us.” Oscar, who had been pacing, stopped and looked at them. “Well, me.”

  While she appreciated Oscar’s attempt at grim humor, her stomach, already knotted with anxiety, heaved. How had the situation gone so bad, so fast?

  They hadn’t had time to deal with the revelation that Luca, the man whom they’d all painted as the villain, appeared to be another victim. Selene glanced up, taking in the silence above them, then went to Luca, who was leaning one shoulder against the wall.

  “I’m sorry. There’s nothing in here I can use to take the cuffs off.” She’d checked, but the basement lacked the sort of things basements should have, like tools or random pieces of metal or other building supplies sharp enough to cut the zip ties biting into the skin around Luca’s wrists.

  Luca looked up, and the intelligence in his eyes was startling. Appealing.

  “You would do that, Dr. Tanaka?”

  “Selene,” she said. “We knew whoever designed the bomb purposely made it easy to defuse. We therefore extrapolated that the bomb designer either had doubts about their decision to create it in the first place or was trying to create a fail-safe i
n case things took a bad turn.”

  “We?” Luca looked between her and Oscar. “You mean yourself and…”

  Selene stiffened, realizing she might have made an error.

  Did Luca know about the Trinity Masters? If he didn’t, she wouldn’t tell him. Secrecy was one of their most important rules.

  “Langston and Oscar.”

  “And Mr. Blake and Ms. Edwards?” Luca’s lips curved into a wry smile. “I am aware they are both in a relationship with Langston.”

  “Because you were following them around and spying on them,” Oscar snapped.

  Luca straightened as if he were going to snap back at Oscar, but took a breath and remained silent.

  “Say it,” Oscar demanded, arms crossed. He could certainly be intimidating when he wanted to be.

  The sound of footsteps overhead made them all fall silent. Oscar nudged her against the wall beside Luca and stepped in front of them both. Selene slid around to the front, hip-checked Oscar back into the wall, and hissed, “I’m the one they’re least likely to shoot.”

  Oscar’s eyes scanned her face. “I’m not—”

  “—going to be a dumbass. Excellent choice.”

  In tense silence, they listened to people moving around above them. There were more than two sets of footsteps.

  It might be Bill, Wayne, and the SWAT officers.

  Wishful thinking on her part. She’d seen the infrared, counted the number of people approaching the house. It didn’t take a genius to know the odds were definitely against them.

  The door to the basement opened, and a second later, a man’s voice said something terse in a language Selene didn’t immediately recognize.

  “Hide,” Luca breathed. “Let them take me and maybe they won’t—”

  “Who are they?” Oscar’s low words rumbled with rage. After what he’d told her about his temper, Selene wondered if perhaps it was the men above them who should be frightened.

  “I don’t know,” Luca said. “But they’re speaking Serbian or Croatian.”

  Boots pounded down the stairs, and Oscar’s arm slid around her waist, pulling her beside him. In a line, their backs against the wall, Selene, Oscar, and Luca watched as eight men in anonymizing black riot gear spread out across the basement. Each held a gun, and three of the eight had their weapons trained on them.