by CW Browning
He looked startled. “What?”
She crooked her eyebrow. “The woman who lives here. Where is she?”
“How should I know?”
Viper studied him coldly.
“Why are you here?” she asked after a moment, keeping her gun pressed against his knee.
“I came to get the camera,” he said, shifting with a groan of pain. “I don’t know anything about anyone who lives here. I didn’t put the camera in.”
“Then why are you taking it out?”
“I was told to.”
“And do you always do what you’re told?” she asked, her lips twisting humorously. “What a good Boy Scout.”
His lips thinned unpleasantly. “You have no idea,” he snarled.
Too late, Viper saw something flash out of the corner of her eye. She ducked to the side as a long, deadly blade slashed forward, aimed for her throat. Her quick movement saved the front of her throat, but the sharp blade still found a target on the side of her neck. Searing pain went up her neck as the knife sliced into the soft skin below her ear and where her jaw began. She sucked in her breath and raised her gun, firing straight into his heart. Blood spread across his torso and the knife slipped from his fingers as he fell backwards, dead.
Viper exhaled and stood slowly, staring down at the body at her feet. His eyes were still open and she shifted her gaze away from his face and to the blood beginning to seep out beneath him. Angela’s hardwood floor was going to be destroyed.
She slid the Ruger back into the holster at her back and lifted a hand to investigate the wetness streaming down her neck. Her fingers came away covered with more blood than she was expecting and she scowled, spinning to stride down the hall towards the powder room near the back of the house.
She flipped on the light inside the door and stared at herself in the mirror. Blood was pouring from a deep gash that extended in an arc from below her ear and along her jawline.
“Son of a bitch,” she breathed, reaching for a thick paper hand towel from the basket on the vanity.
Pressing the paper against her neck firmly, she turned and left the powder room, striding through the house to the stairs. Somewhere upstairs Angela had to have a first aid kit, or at least bandages. She went up the stairs swiftly, heading for the master bathroom and silently berating herself. She should have known he was being too amenable. There was no excuse for her injury. He should never have been able to get to the knife, wherever he had it, let alone make a move with it.
She was just finishing taping down a gauze bandage a few minutes later when her watch vibrated against her wrist. She glanced at it with a frown, took one last look at the sterile bandage taped to her neck, and pulled out her phone. She dialed into a secure line and walked out of the master bathroom as it rang. The line picked up and she entered her security code, then listened to dead air as the call was routed through several servers on its way to her boss.
Crossing the bedroom, Alina sank down onto the side Angela’s bed and looked at the bedside table. The phone charger was empty, a stark reminder that her childhood friend was gone. Alina’s lips tightened as she glanced at her watch. She’d been gone for twenty-one hours. While Harry wouldn’t kill her until Viper showed up, time was ticking away. His plans to flee to Montenegro wouldn’t wait forever.
“Viper?”
The call connected and Charlie’s voice broke into her thoughts.
“Yes.”
“Are you secure?”
“Yes, and I’m alone.”
“Good. I know I said we wouldn’t speak until this was over, but I got some new information today and I think we should meet. How soon can you get down here?”
Alina frowned.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” she asked softly. “Things aren’t exactly stable up here at the moment.”
There was a slight pause, then Charlie spoke.
“They weren’t stable before. What’s happened now?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” she told him. “I’m not sure that it’s a good idea for me to leave, though.”
“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was necessary. The more you move around, the more at risk you are, and I don’t like that anymore than you do.”
Alina pursed her lips and stared at the wall across the room thoughtfully, silent for a long moment.
“If I leave later this afternoon,” she finally said reluctantly, “I can be there by nine.”
“Perfect. Contact me when you’re in the city and I’ll tell you where to meet.”
“Okay.”
“Viper, be careful.”
Alina’s lips tightened and the look that crossed her face was deadly.
“Oh, don’t worry about me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alina stepped into the small, family-owned Italian restaurant and looked around. The dining area was half-filled with patrons finishing up their lunch, and her dark eyes scanned the tables briefly, searching. Not seeing who she was looking for, she turned toward the desk near the front of the restaurant. Before she could open her mouth, a solidly built man in black slacks and a gray shirt that did little to conceal the firearm at his side emerged from a swinging door in the wall a few feet behind the hostess desk. He nodded to her as he strode forward, saying something in a low voice to the waiter behind the desk as he passed.
“Mr. Solitto’s expecting you,” he said, turning his attention back to Alina. “You can follow me.”
She followed him through the dining area without a word and he led her to a set of double doors in the back corner. Opening one, he motioned for her to go in and Alina stepped through the door, keeping one eye on him as she did so.
She found herself in a private entertaining area capable of seating about thirty patrons. However, there were only four present. Frankie Solitto, the head of the New Jersey family, was seated at a table on the far side of the room with a man whom Viper immediately recognized as Stefan Delgado, his chief enforcer. Two bodyguards stood just inside the door and, as she entered, they turned toward her. The one on the right motioned for her to raise her hands and she sighed silently, raising them until they were level with her shoulders. Her eyes met Frankie’s across the length of the room.
“Is this really necessary?” she asked, one eyebrow crooked.
He smiled faintly, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening.
“Just a formality,” he replied, watching as his guard began to pat her down. “I’m sure you understand.”
Frankie Solitto was still an imposing personality, despite the fact that she had gotten to know him somewhat over the past year. He was on the taller side, with wide shoulders and graying hair along his temples. He still looked good for his age, and hadn't allowed himself to get soft around the middle as most older generation Italians did. He kept himself fit and solid, exuding an undeniable strength that would make anyone think twice before trying to take him on, physically or otherwise. His olive skin was beginning to show the lines of his age, but his deep-set eyes were still alert.
Alina never took her gaze from those eyes as her escort from the restaurant came in behind her and closed the door. The holster in the small of her back was empty, as was the one at her ankle that normally housed her combat knife. She had removed the weapons before entering the restaurant out of respect for Solitto. However, if the meathead running his hands all over her didn’t stop his groping, her good intentions would go out the window.
The guard finally finished and looked over to Frankie with a nod, stepping back. Alina was just lowering her hands when she felt a hard, metal barrel press into her left kidney. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and there was a split second of deadly silence. She saw Frankie stiffen and Stefan reach for his weapon. That was all she needed to see.
Her left hand moved behind her as she spun swiftly to the left, grabbing the barrel of the 9mm and angling it upwards at the same time that her right leg hooked around the man’s left leg. She pulled his leg
out from under him and the pistol discharged, firing into the ceiling with a suppressed pop. Her attacker lost his balance, and she wrapped her arm around his neck as he began to fall, ripping the gun away from him with her other hand. Hauling him up against her as a shield, she turned to face the bodyguard who was groping her seconds before. He already had his weapon out, but before he could fire, Viper shot him in the forehead. He swayed, his eyes widening in shock, before he fell.
Viper felt rather than heard the other bodyguard move behind her. She kicked her human shield’s knee, releasing her hold on his neck as he fell with a grunt. Presented with his head below her, she leveled a sharp blow to the back of his skull with the butt of his gun. Pivoting swiftly, she went low and swung her leg in an arc, sweeping the legs of the other bodyguard out from under him. He began to fall and, as he did so, she planted one hand on the floor and flipped herself into a one-handed hand-stand, hooking her other leg around his neck. With a quick movement, she used her leg to spin him around, snapping his neck. Following him down to the floor, she released her leg and landed easily on her feet in a crouch.
It was all over in seconds, and Viper raised her eyes to the two men at the table on the other side of the room. Her heart rate settled again from the unexpected physical exertion and she straightened up from her crouched position slowly, her eyes on Frankie and Stefan. The low burning anger that was constantly present inside her these days tried to surface, but she tamped it down. Emotion had no place here.
Stefan had drawn his Glock and was just getting to his feet. As one, both he and Viper raised their weapons, pointing them at each other.
“You’d better start talking, Frankie,” Viper advised, her voice icy.
Frankie reached out and pressed Stefan’s arm down, lowering the Glock.
“That did not come from me,” he said, pushing his chair back and standing. He came around the table and strode forward, his eyes on the three bodies on the floor. “I didn’t authorize that.”
Viper studied his face for a moment, then slowly lowered the gun, slipping her finger off the trigger. As soon as she lowered her weapon, Stefan slowly holstered his.
“Are they all dead?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.
“Two are,” she said. “The one who started it should be alive.”
Frankie shot her a look under thick brows. “Why?”
“For information.”
He grunted and nodded, then motioned to Stefan.
“Get him into a chair and secure him,” he commanded, “and lock those doors.”
Stefan nodded and came over to the group by the door. Alina watched as he bent down and pulled a leather belt off one of the corpses. He took it over to the double doors and looped it around the two handles, securing it tightly.
Frankie turned to Alina and held out his arm, motioning to the table.
“My apologies. Come sit down while Stefan takes care of Angelo,” he said. “Keep the gun. In future, I’ll understand if you prefer to come armed. That was inexcusable.”
Alina glanced at Stefan, who had turned to the unconscious Angelo and was busy tying his wrists together with zip ties. Her lips trembled despite her wariness. Leave it to the mob to carry zip ties to lunch.
After a second of hesitation, she turned and walked with Frankie to the table across the room. Bowls of pasta and bread were in the center, along with a glass carafe of red wine and a pitcher of ice water. Frankie reached the table and pulled out the chair next to his for her to sit.
“Please.”
Viper tucked the gun into her back holster before seating herself in the offered chair. He seated himself again, glancing at her.
“What happened to your neck?” he asked, motioning to the gauze bandage.
“This wasn’t my first skirmish today,” she replied, her voice even.
Frankie frowned.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” he said in a low voice, sitting back in his chair and studying her. “That sounds like things aren’t going so well for you.”
She smiled faintly. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“That I don’t doubt.” He reached for his glass of water. “I heard about what happened to Agent Walker on Friday. Is she okay?”
Alina watched as Stefan hauled the unconscious Angelo into a chair and proceeded to tie his ankles to the chair legs.
“She’s fine,” she said shortly.
Frankie glanced at her. “And yet here you are, prepared to call in that favor I owe you.”
Alina turned her dark eyes to his. “You see more than many would give you credit for.”
He acknowledged that with a slight incline of his head, then motioned to the pasta and bread.
“Have you eaten? The penne vodka is particularly good.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
Alina turned her head and watched as Stefan walked back to the table. Angelo was still out cold, but he had been tied securely into the chair. When he woke up, he wasn’t going anywhere.
“I would introduce you to Stefan, but I don’t think I’ve ever caught your name,” Frankie said as his enforcer sat in the chair on the other side of him.
A swift, cold smile passed her lips. “You can call me Raven.”
Frankie shot her a quick look under his eyebrows and then glanced at the man beside him.
“Stefan, meet Raven. Raven, Stefan.”
Stefan nodded to her and she nodded back.
“Any idea why Angelo thought it would be a good idea to stick a gun in your back?” Frankie asked conversationally, reaching for a piece of garlic bread and going back to his lunch as if the interruption had never occurred.
“Aside from your ordering him to do so?”
Frankie frowned, glancing at her. “I already told you I had nothing to do with that.”
“Since when do your men do anything without your say so?” she asked softly, her gaze steady.
He set down his bread and sat back. “Since just now.”
Stefan grunted.
“There’s another possibility,” he said gruffly, breaking his silence. “I heard something yesterday that might mean something.”
Frankie and Viper looked at him and he shrugged. “Sorry, boss. I was gonna talk to you after your meeting with her.”
Alina raised an eyebrow. “So talk now.”
Stefan flicked her a look that would have made most men very nervous for their continued good health.
“It’s Family business.”
“It’s my business now,” she retorted coldly.
Frankie raised a hand placatingly.
“What did you hear?” he asked Stefan.
“It’s the Casa Reinos Cartel, boss,” he said reluctantly. “Some of the guys have been working with them.”
Anger flared in Frankie’s eyes and he stared at his enforcer in silence for a moment. When he finally broke the silence, his voice was soft and deadly.
“What?”
Stefan nodded and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
“I think they’ve been bought. I’ve been putting together a list of names.”
Alina turned her gaze to the two bodies near the door thoughtfully.
“And were they on it?” Frankie demanded, waving a hand toward the three inanimate figures.
“Yes.”
“Then why the hell did you suggest they come today instead of Carlos and his brothers?”
Stefan looked at him steadily.
“Because I knew you’d want to take care of them. I figured after we were done talking, you wouldn’t have to go far. I didn’t know Angelo would try to clip her.”
Alina turned her gaze to Stefan’s face.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked softly.
Stefan shrugged.
“No, only that Frankie likes you,” he replied. “And after what you just did, I can see why.”
Frankie looked at her sharply.
“You know something,” he stated, his eyes narrowing. “Does this have
to do with that bandage on your neck and the trouble Ms. Walker seems to have gotten herself into?”
Alina’s lips tightened. “If you had nothing to do with what just happened, then it would appear so.”
Before he could reply, a low groan came from the chair across the room. Stefan looked at Frankie, who nodded before going back to his lunch. Stefan pushed his chair back and picked up one of the knives from the table.
“Are you sure about the penne?” Frankie asked her as Stefan walked over the chair. “I’d offer you something else, but the less people in here right now, the better.”
Alina smiled in some amusement. “I’m not hungry.”
Frankie picked up the carafe, pouring wine into two clean wine glasses. Across the room, Stefan stood behind Angelo’s chair, waiting for him to open his eyes. Frankie pushed one of the glasses over to her.
“Then have a glass of wine,” he said. “We can’t have Angelo thinking you’re not an honored guest.”
Alina met his eyes and read the silent command in them. He wanted to present a united front, and a show of strength to his traitor. She nodded slowly and accepted the wine, setting it before her. Another groan emanated from the chair and Angelo’s head rolled, then his eyes opened.
“What the...” he began, then stopped abruptly when he caught sight of Alina sitting next to Frankie. “You bitch!”
Angelo jerked on his arms as he tried to get up, then let out a string of curses as he realized his arms and legs were held securely against the chair. He jerked his arms, testing the strength of the zip ties, and cursed again when they held fast, cutting into his skin.
“What’s going on?” he demanded angrily, glaring at Frankie. “What the hell, man?”
Frankie sipped his wine, setting the glass down purposefully before going back to his pasta. After a scooping a forkful of penne vodka into his mouth, he chewed while he considered Angelo in silence. Then, swallowing, he nodded to Stefan.
Stefan moved forward and looped a belt around Angelo’s throat, pulling back sharply. He gasped for air and struggled against the unrelenting leather. His eyes began to bulge out of his head and his face was turning a peculiar shade of purple when Frankie finally made a movement with his hand. Stefan eased the pressure and Angelo gasped, sucking in deep gulps of air.