But Callahan had a good poker face. “I’m sorry. I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation,” he said. “Could you describe them to a sketch artist?”
Richard frowned at the denial but nodded.
“I’ll have someone come over in a few minutes,” Callahan said. “Thanks for your help, sir.”
They shook hands, then Callahan walked back across the street.
Another van pulled up, this one with “Tallahassee Cyber Forensics” stenciled across the side, and two men got out.
The pulled briefcases from the back and headed in, leaving Richard and Spitfire to watch and wait for a sketch artist.
It was the most excitement he’d had in years.
Impaler pushed through the velvet curtain, and the throbbing music from the night club instantly died down to tolerable levels. The inside of the booth smelled like cigar smoke, and he was a bit surprised to see Lucy puffing away on a stogie as long as her forearm.
“Do you just enjoy catching people off guard?” he asked.
“I like using people’s own perceptions and assumptions against them,” she said in the same high-pitched voice she’d used when they met. “You can be anything you want on the Internet. Might as well take advantage of it.”
Impaler grunted but slid into the booth opposite her.
“You could at least offer me one,” he said.
Lucy took the cigar from her mouth and held it in front of her within her right hand, then pinched it with her other thumb and index finger just before the ash. She rolled it back and forth, then yanked her two hands apart, an identical cigar now in each hand.
She offered the one in her left hand to him, which he took with a smile.
The smoke filled his mouth, and he held it at the back of his throat, savoring the warm taste before expelling it through his nose.
“The good stuff,” he said appreciatively.
“Life’s too short for anything else,” Lucy said. “A point I’d like you to make painfully clear to a friend of mine.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a friendship.”
“Don’t be a shit,” she said around the cigar. She blew a puff of smoke straight into his face. “Just kill them.”
“You could have started with that,” Impaler said. “Who is it you want dead?”
“I don’t know,” Lucy admitted.
“Now you’ve lost me.”
“Someone tried to trace me when I met with a contact. They were sloppy, but they must have somehow still gotten my IP.”
“Isn’t that pretty easy to get?” he asked. “And don’t you use some kind of program to hide?”
“It is, but they had the gall to do it in front of an entire forum,” she said. “I have a reputation to protect. I slipped a little something into their proxy when I ‘vaped’ them, as you like to say. Now I’ve got an address.”
“I don’t know if we want this kind of heat,” Impaler said slowly. “A murder is going to bring down a lot of cops on us. Why can’t you just overload their computer or something? Make it look like an accident.”
“Overload his . . .” Lucy shook her head in disbelief. “Jesus, I forget how much of a Neanderthal you are. This isn’t a video game. Your computer does not have an overload switch that makes it explode.”
“I’m just saying maybe there is something else a bit more low profile you could do to solve the problem,” he said. “Fight tech with tech or something.”
Lucy took a deep breath and looked up to the ceiling for a full count of ten before looking back at him. When she did, he realized that her blue eyes were crazed, almost maniacal.
“You leave the tech to me, and I’ll leave the shooty bits to you,” she said. “I’ll handle the cops.”
She pushed a business card across the table. “Kill everyone at this address.”
He couldn’t stop his jaw from dropping. “There is no way the cops don’t come down on us hard if I do,” he managed.
She dismissed the suggestion with a hand.
“The cops won’t give a shit,” she said. “That is a safehouse for DS-13.”
His eyes bulged. “Jesus are you insane?” he said. “You’re going to start a freaking war.”
“Not if you do your job,” she hissed. “Get in, kill everyone, and get out. Don’t let anyone know you were there. Plant some evidence, so people think it was one of your rivals. I don’t really care as long as they’re dead.”
“You’re insane.”
“And your boss told you to do what I say,” she snapped. “But if you don’t want to, you’re welcome to give him a call. I’m sure he doesn’t have anything better to do than listen to little boys who can’t take care of a single hacker second-guessing his decisions.”
She held out her hand, and a cell phone materialized in it.
“I’ll even dial the number for you,” she said quietly.
Impaler glared at her from across the table but slowly shook his head. “That won’t be necessary,” he finally said.
Lucy smiled and tossed the phone over her shoulder. Impaler didn’t hear it hit the floor.
“Glad we could come to an agreement,” she said. “When will you be able to do it?”
“Do you know who all will be there?”
Lucy shook her head. “I’d recommend you take a few extra hands just in case,” she said. “And probably a few of those new AKs you bought last month. And Phantom. I have a feeling you’ll find a few toys he’ll want to play with.”
“I thought you were going to leave the shooty bits to me?”
Lucy held up her hands. “Only a suggestion,” she said. “I’ll leave you to it.”
With that, she melted back into the seat, until the only thing still visible was the glowing red end of her cigar. Then that too puffed out and disappeared.
Impaler picked up the card and looked at the address. He heard a small ding, and when he looked back at the table, it was covered by a giant map of the greater DC area, with a blue dot for his current location and a yellow pin at the address on the card.
He bit his lip and did a few calculations in his head. He pulled out his own phone with a sigh and started dialing a number.
“Alexi? Yeah, me. How many guys do we have available on short notice?”
He cursed under his breath when he heard the reply.
“Well get them anyways; we’ve got a job. Yeah, very wet.”
He glanced back at the seat where Lucy had been. “And grab those AKs.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Miguel paced back and forth in the barn, yapping into the phone and gesturing wildly with his hands.
Haley didn’t want to know what he was talking about, and the noise-canceling headphones were the perfect way to keep herself from being the accomplice to something that would get her twenty-five to life.
Josef sat next to her, trying to crack a vulnerable web server she’d found, but judging by the thin line of his lips and intermittent slamming of a fist on the table, it wasn’t going well.
She was about to offer him a hint when the orange light blinked to life.
She glanced back at Miguel, and her blood froze.
He was staring at the light, slack jawed and wide-eyed.
He shook himself and hung up the phone. Turning to Josef, he said something Haley couldn’t hear, then darted to the security monitor. Josef pushed himself up, hands trembling as he raced up the loft’s ladder.
Haley pulled her headphones off. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know,” Miguel said. He paused, looking at the security camera. “Two vans. Black. Don’t look like law enforcement.”
Haley scooted over to get a look at the feed.
Her stomach dropped.
“Volkags,” she whispered.
“What?”
“That’s Vlad,” she pointed to the man in the passenger seat. “The asshole who kidnapped Jacob.”
Miguel’s mouth tightened.
“How many men do you think he has?”
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“I have no idea,” she said. “The cops took out most of his operation, so it can’t be more than a handful.”
Her breath was coming fast, and she felt like she was starting to get light-headed. “We have to run,” she said. “They’ll kill us.”
“No,” Miguel said. “I’m not running.”
“We can hide in the woods,” Haley said. “They won’t—”
“We’re wasting time,” Miguel said. “We probably have five minutes. Tell Francesca to get to the panic room,” he said to Josef. “She can take the boy too.”
“I’m not leaving him alone,” Haley said.
“He won’t be alone,” Miguel snapped, grabbing an M16 from the wall. “We’ll meet him shortly, but for now, I need you—”
Haley was already running.
Miguel yelled at her, but she was already out of the barn door. She was up the porch steps and inside in seconds, her heart pounding in her ears.
“Jacob! Jacob!”
“Mommy?”
She raced into the living room, where he was playing with his trucks on the carpet. Haley scooped him up, the toy clattering to the floor.
“My truck!” he cried.
“We have to go,” Haley said. “Francesca!”
“What?” the woman yelled from upstairs.
“The Volkags are here,” Haley yelled back. “Get to the panic room!”
There was an unintelligible curse, and then the woman’s thumping limp started shuffling across the floor.
Haley didn’t have time to make sure the older woman got to safety though. With Jacob wailing in her arms, she pounded back outside.
As she sprinted across the yard, she flinched, turning to shield Jacob as one of the upstairs windows in the barn banged open, revealing Miguel standing behind a row of sandbags. The M16 in one hand, and several other gun barrels poking up from behind the barricade. By now, the roar of engines was easily heard through the forest.
“Move,” he yelled.
Haley didn’t need any more encouragement.
She ducked inside as she heard the crunch of gravel from the road. She turned and froze in terror as a black van emerged from the woods.
“Now,” Miguel yelled.
Nothing happened.
The van rolled forward, turning aside to make room for the second.
“Damnit, Josef,” Miguel yelled again. “Hit them—”
There was a loud bang, and the side of the second van disappeared in a ball of black smoke. The roar of engines was replaced with a boom and a sound like hail on a tin roof. As the echo died, she heard men screaming.
The explosion snapped her out of her daze, and she finished pulling the door closed.
The lights in the barn were dark, so the only light was from the thin rays of sunlight coming through the rafters. It took her eyes a second to adjust. The sharp report of automatic weapons fire rained down on her from above.
“In here,” Josef called from inside the barn. She stepped forward and saw he was in a hole in the room with the PlayBox and couch, only they’d been thrown aside, revealing a steel trapdoor.
Josef was already inside, and she could see the glow of several computer monitors coming from inside. There was a steep ladder going down into the hole, and Haley eyed it warily with Jacob in her hands.
“Give him to me,” Josef said, reaching up for Jacob.
Haley handed him down, then climbed down herself.
The room was maybe half a dozen paces across, and twice that deep. It was tall enough for Haley to stand without hitting her head, but she could feel a few stray strands of hair caught on the rough concrete above. Padded benches lined the wall, and there was a blue-white LED light strip running along the top corners. There was a metal door at the back of the compartment. Josef set Jacob down on the bench at the right side of the room and was now back in front of two laptops.
“What about Miguel?” Haley said.
Josef spun one of the laptops around, and Haley could see the screen was littered with camera feeds. One was pointed down at the hayloft where Miguel was fighting. He’d pop up from behind the sandbags to layout a burst of fire, then drop back down and either grab another rifle or reload the one in his hands.
Another angle showed the courtyard in front of the house. Haley instantly recognized Vlad’s looming bulk but couldn’t make out the others’ faces in the grainy footage. The van itself was rocking back and forth with the impact of Miguel’s shots. The front windows were shattered, one tire was completely deflated, and the side was riddled with white holes where the paint had chipped off as the bullet had passed through the metal.
“Can we do anything to help him?” Haley asked.
“I tried,” Josef said. “He wouldn’t give me a gun. Most he let me do was detonate the mines.”
“Do you have any more?” she asked.
Josef shook his head.
“The only thing left is—”
The rest of his sentence came out as a strangled gurgle, and a scream came from the loft.
Haley looked back down and saw that Miguel was lying in a pool of expanding blood, his rifle on the ground next to him.
Josef was already halfway up the ladder. Haley grabbed for his leg, but he wiggled free.
She turned back to Jacob, who was watching her with tear-filled eyes and a quivering lip.
“Stay here,” she said in her most serious tone. Then she followed Josef up the ladder.
They scrambled up the second ladder to the loft. Miguel’s eyes fluttered briefly to them, but when he tried to speak, it only came out as a painful hiss.
“Take care of him,” Josef said, ducking and grabbing one of the rifles. He pressed his back to the sandbags, then cautiously peeked over the top.
Haley looked down at the former Marine. The bullet had hit him just below the collar bone on the right side. Haley glanced at the rifle next to him and saw a silver streak along the stock.
“What am I supposed to do?” she asked.
“Put pressure on it or something,” Josef said. “Do whatever they teach you in Mom’s first aid school.”
“Getting shot isn’t part of the curriculum.”
But she tore a piece of Miguel’s shirt and pressed down on the bubbling wound. Miguel swore in pain, and for a moment his eyes cleared. He blinked as he breathed hard, and she could see the thoughts running through his head. The blood kept seeping past Haley’s fingers, so she pressed harder, and his head fell back as a new wave of pain assaulted his nerves.
“They’re not sure if they got him,” Josef said. “They’re creeping up slowly.”
He stood, and the gun practically leaped from his hands as he pulled the trigger.
Haley flinched as bullets tore through the old wood around them. Haley left Miguel long enough to grab Josef’s shirt and yank him down. He squawked as he fell, and he landed on the wood with a thud.
“You get killed too, and we’re all dead,” she hissed. “Help me.”
“I need to cover us,” he said, trying to rise.
Haley pressed a bloody hand on his shoulder.
“You already did,” she said. “They’re going to think there’s someone else in here, and they’ll be cautious. We have maybe a minute to get him to the shelter.”
She nodded at Miguel.
“But I can—”
“Get shot,” Haley snapped. “I know those guys. You got lucky because they had to scramble for cover. They won’t miss again.”
Josef started to argue, but Miguel groaned.
“Move,” he said, his eyes fluttering open briefly. “Leave me.”
“Like hell,” Josef said. He dropped the gun. “Let’s go.”
Haley dragged Miguel toward the ladder, the older man grunting and heaving the whole time, but at least he didn’t scream.
She didn’t want to think what that might meant for his survival odds.
Bullets continued to whiz by, and the barn was noticeably brighter as each round created a new,
tiny window. The smell of hay couldn’t mask the mixture of gunpowder and blood, so thick Haley was sure she could taste it when she tried to breathe through her mouth.
Josef went down the ladder first. Haley gripped the shoulders of Miguel’s shirt and tried to lower him as slowly as she dared. Josef grabbed him at the bottom and slipped the older man’s good arm around his shoulders and started hobbling toward the trap door.
Haley practically jumped down after them, and they repeated the process into the hole.
“Close it,” Haley ordered.
Josef was quick to obey.
He slid the door shut, locking it from the inside with a pair of steel bolts and padlocks.
Miguel wheezed on the bench on the side, and Jacob’s eyes were wide enough for Haley to see his entire iris.
Josef pulled out a first aid box and fumbled around inside. He came out with a few bandages and a bottle of aspirin.
Haley grabbed the bandages, not bothering with the pills.
“Do you have any water?” she said.
Josef reached under the bench and grabbed a plastic wrapped case of bottled water. He tore it open and grabbed one.
Meanwhile, Haley ripped the rest of Miguel’s shirt open to look at the wound. She took the water and poured some out over his chest, using the cleanest remnants of the shirt to wipe away the blood.
She wasn’t a doctor, but it didn’t look good. Blood still pulsed up from the dark hole, but at least it wasn’t spurting out. She couldn’t tell for sure if the bullet was still inside, but judging from the lack of blood on the bench below him, she thought it might be.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. “He needs a doctor. Are they still out there?”
Josef sat in front of the laptops, his eyes roaming over the display.
“They’re about to open the barn door,” he said. “They . . . shit.”
“What?”
Josef turned the laptop so she could see. All the security camera feeds were black.
“They cut the cable line,” he said. “We can’t connect to the cameras. Or call for backup.”
“You already called someone, right?”
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