Trusting Lucas

by Casey Hagen

  He’d die. The child he’d been, the adult he became. He’d die a painful death.

  He’d die screaming.

  Chloe spit on him.

  He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back.

  The men stood there, taking in every bit of what unfolded on the screen, their rage fused between them becoming a living breathing pulse amongst them.

  “You’ll pay for that you sniveling little bitch! Lucas!” Vega bellowed.

  “I told you he’s not here. The center is full of women and children. Is that what you are, a coward that attacks innocent children? They’re no good to you.”

  “Why should I believe you?”

  “You know Lucas. Would he have let me walk out if he were here? You know he would never stand aside while I did that. If you take me, Lucas will come. It’s his blood you want. Anything you do to this center will only call attention to yourself. Dumb move for a guy who thinks he’s so smart.”

  Vega grabbed her by the jaw, spun her toward the camera, and squeezed. “You have twenty-four hours, Burke. Not a minute more. Then I have my way with her and toss whatever’s left to my men.”

  In Lucas’ next breath, they disappeared into the darkness.

  He grabbed the table along the wall and flipped it. When that did nothing to alleviate the violent fury coursing through him, he went after the controls. The keyboard ripped away. Slyder and Evan flanked him, each locking their grip to hold him still.

  “Easy, man,” Evan said quietly.

  A primitive howl on the edge of madness broke from his lungs as a cascade of images rocketed through his head of sweat-soaked men, reeking of meth and booze, beating her, raping her, shooting a needle into that spot she’d so desperately tried to scrub away, and invading her from the inside out.

  Would there be anything left in twenty-four hours?

  He thrashed against their hold, his chest heaving. He never even noticed Zane had come back until he stood before Lucas, blood in his eyes.

  “If I lose her, there’s nowhere for any of them to hide that I won’t find them and skin them all alive for taking her from me,” Lucas vowed to a roomful of determined faces.

  Zane nodded. “Now let’s get to work.”

  Chapter 10

  Lucas stared out into the darkness. He couldn’t feel her anymore. There was something about being close, about knowing her heart beat somewhere nearby. That comfort had all but vanished as the minutes ticked away, each bringing a new nightmare of all the things they could be doing to her while he stood in Zane’s living room. Helpless.

  Zane stepped up next to him, his jaw hard. “What’s going on in that head of yours, Burke?”

  “Burn them all. Burn them the way they were willing to burn all of us. Sorelli likes fire so fucking much? Let it be the last thing he sees.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Where are we at?” Lucas asked.

  “Tex is on his way with aerials and has associates on standby for more if we need them. Dylan is coordinating a team with Wolf. So far, we have thirty-six men, you and I included. ETA is about three hours before they’re all here. We have access to all the military grade weapons we could possibly need,” Zane said.

  “Good.”

  “It actually works in our favor that law enforcement is tied up cleaning up the mess they made. They’ll be too busy to notice when we move in.”

  “Fucking cowards are part of the reason we’re in this mess,” Lucas muttered.

  “True.”

  “Anything come to you that might give us an idea about where to look for this fucker?”

  “He gave me a time limit and didn’t even bother telling me where to find him. He’s playing with me. Seeing if I’m smart enough to figure it out. He thinks he’s witty and profound. Really, he’s just a glorified criminal with fancy initials.”

  “Fancy initials?”

  “Yeah, he had a big old boner for branding. He wanted to see his initials on the finest crystal, the rarest and most sought-after wines. He wanted to work his way into deals with men in power, law enforcement, politicians, anyone who could be swayed by money. He wanted to get out of the fear business. It was too messy, and he’s getting older. Sure, he could delegate it, but his men are undisciplined. They like to dip into the product too often to be effective overall. Makes them dangerous in their spontaneity, but fuck if they could find their way out of a wet paper bag. Even if they rubbed their brain cells together, they couldn’t coordinate any sort of defense from us.”

  “Knowing him the way you do, what’s our biggest challenge?”

  “Finding her,” Lucas said, knowing the weight of that fell on his shoulders.

  The doorbell rang, and Kinsley headed for the door.

  “Hey, sweetcheeks,” Tex said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Do you mind if I take over your dining room?”

  “Please,” Kinsley said, giving him a brief smile.

  Zane and Lucas followed him in and waited while he laid out the images.

  “Okay, cowboys…he’s got eight safehouses that we can find in a four-hour radius from the prison. We know he had to get out of the prison after the explosion, gather an army, and make his way to New Hope. Even being generous on time, there’s no way he gathered his arsenal outside of these brackets.”

  “Any one of those eight points stand out more than another?” Zane asked.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Lucas muttered.

  “They didn’t get to New Hope on foot. They had to have vehicles, lots of them. I don’t see anything on there that would hide that big of a fleet,” Tex said.

  Clasping the back of his head, Lucas studied the dots on the map. They blurred, sharpened, then blurred again.

  “What is it?” Zane asked.

  “Shhh,” Lucas whispered.

  He spun the aerials, the points dancing in his vision. An early memory played through Lucas’ mind.

  Vega’s head thrown back, a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. A cocktail napkin with the initials VS scrawled in bleeding ink. The waitress dragging her fingers over the shoulder of Vega’s suit. “Now that’s sexy,” she murmured in his ear, glancing down at the napkin.

  Lucas grabbed a pen and paper. “Hard V. Script S below it, but intersecting. Three points for the V. Two for the S. Three where they intersect,” he whispered as he continued to shift the paper, blinking against the glare of the light overhead, blinking back exhaustion, begging his mind to grasp for all the pieces and put them together.

  “What is this?” Lucas asked, pointing to a blocked-out section off to the left of the locations.

  “It’s small oil field,” Tex said, running his finger along the map. “The crude lines zigzag through, a couple lines here converge—”

  “Wait!”

  “What?”

  Lucas raised a hand in the air to silence them. Grabbing a sharpie, he bit off the top and connected the dots. The V and S, just like on the napkin, but one specific place stood out. The dot in the center of the V.

  “There you are, you son of a bitch,” Lucas whispered, his blood racing, his body ready to hunt.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because he’s an ego-driven bastard. You’ve got a canal here. Not sure why, it’s desert. And your line converging over here. Who’s going to look for someone hiding out in a building in the center of oil equipment?”

  “Okay, you’ve got my attention now,” Tex said.

  “By parking his ass there, he gave us the perfect way to eliminate his army. At least the majority of them.”

  “How?” Zane asked.

  “I’d need a better idea of how deep that canal is, but if it’s manageable, we have a team on either side of the crude lines. We let them see us move in. It’s daylight. They aren’t going to shoot until they make it past those lines, and we’ll be standing just outside of them ready to fight. Only we won’t have to. The minute they get close enough, we make a quick retreat. They’ll come after us. The minute they cross under, we d

etonate.”

  Tex scratched his head. “You want to blow up an oil field?”

  “Yes,” Lucas said.

  “I dig it,” he said, bobbing his head. “Then what?”

  “We have a team cross the canal and march right in. We’ll still have guys to contend with, but most of their numbers will be incinerated.”

  “It’s good. Real good,” Tex said, gripping Lucas’ shoulders. “You’re one crazy son of a bitch, but I’m with you. Let’s light ’em up.”

  “You’re sure?” Zane said quietly.

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” Lucas said.

  “I’m trusting you with my sister,” Zane said, his hard look morphing into weary acceptance.

  “I know. When this is over, I plan on spending a good long time convincing her to marry me.”

  “She’s going to make you work for it.”

  “I hope so,” Lucas said, shooting up a prayer that they made it through this. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I want you to go in with me. If something goes wrong, I’m going to need someone to make her see reason. To convince her to leave me behind.”

  “We’re not going to leave you behind,” Zane said with a hard edge to his voice.

  “I hope you don’t, but if you have the chance to get her out, don’t wait for me, Zane. Get her out. Get her home to her kids.”

  “Do not make me have to tell Chloe that you didn’t make it, or I’ll revive your ass and kill you myself. You hear me, Burke?”

  Dust kicked up, swallowing the vans that hauled them to the far edge of the oil field. A good mile away, no one would spot them. They’d approach the rest of the way on foot.

  The minute they climbed out of the van, they strapped on their gear and weapons. Each member of Team A and Team B took a pack of C4, enough to blast through a four-foot-wide pipe and ignite the contents without incinerating everything in its path. Just the bad guys.

  “The minute we start advancing, we’re silent but for the three team leads coordinating through their coms. That’s it,” Lucas said. “Get forty feet from that pipe before it blows. You’re still going to feel it, but it won’t kill you.”

  The men of Fierce stood in the front line of the team. If it weren’t for them and their connections—yeah, well, he’d be taking the job with them when this was all over.

  If he lived.

  He wanted to thank them, but had no clue how to say the words without them sounding trite.

  “Guys—I don’t know how to thank—”

  “You don’t need to. We’ve all been in your shoes, and there’s nowhere else we would be today,” Dylan assured him.

  They had kids, wives, families that would forever be changed if they didn’t make it home, yet they stood with him anyway.

  Lucas nodded and slid on his helmet. Time to get the show on the road. With one signal, they headed for their target. At the half-mile mark, Lucas’ team, Team C, branched off to head to the canal. As near as they could tell, it was only a few feet deep and relatively easy to cross.

  Once they made it into position, Team A and Team B would advance the last tenth of a mile, plant their explosives, and wait.

  Sweat trickled down his forehead and into his eyes. Dust coated his skin as gusts swept through, pelting them with tiny grains of sand.

  Give him the water any day because desert sand sucked.

  Arriving at the edge of the canal, the comm crackled in his ear. “Team A C4 set.”

  One by one, Zane, Dylan, Slyder, Cole, Evan, Jake, Wolf, and Abe made their way to the crest on the opposite side and waited.

  Closing his eyes for the briefest of seconds, he’d swear he could feel her. His blood beat thick, the thud pounding in his ears, and the sound of her voice filled him.

  I’ll find you. You’re coming home.

  “Team B C4 set.”

  Twenty…nineteen…eighteen…seventeen…sixeteen…fifteen…fourteen…thirteen…

  On he went until he made it to one. “Fire!” he ordered.

  The sound of bullets riddling the air reached them as each team shot a round into the distance toward the bottom of the V.

  Innocent shots that would hit rock and dirt.

  Instigating shots that would bring on the band of thugs eager to impress their boss.

  “Team A has a visual.”

  “Team B has a visual.”

  “Like ants scurrying from their mounds,” Lucas whispered.

  Cluster after cluster ran in the direction of gunfire with no regard to their own safety, with no organized plan to confront the enemy.

  “Five…four…three…two…one!”

  Massive balls of flame shot into the sky. Black smoke bubbled into the air, carrying the screams of burning men on the ground.

  “Now!” Lucas ordered. Leading the men in, they fanned out, their guns ready, their eyes sharp.

  Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

  The rapid staccato rang out around him as more of Sorelli’s men fell.

  With rapidly dwindling numbers, they began to retreat. Two walls of fire fueled by the constant flow of oil closed in those sides and their team moved in from the canal, to pin the ones left. Lucas rained a cloud of bullets over three before they even made it to the door of the building.

  Drawing closer, afraid he might miss his mark, he held his fire. With no way of knowing where Chloe was, they couldn’t take a chance that an errant shot could hit her.

  Twenty feet from the door, the team split, Zane and Lucas heading into the building while the rest surrounded the structure to make sure no one managed to get out.

  They’d all die today.

  Every. Last. One.

  He’d never see that look of fear in Chloe’s eyes again.

  She’d never have to raise her chin with courage while she surrendered herself to protect him.

  Fingers on the trigger, he pushed open the door and walked in. Blinking against the dim light, he scanned the dank room, finding nothing but concrete and metal.

  The sound of footsteps in the next room caught his ear, and he motioned to Zane to back him up.

  “What the fuck’s wrong with you? Don’t worry about if there’s an air bubble in it. Boss wants the fucking traitor to watch her die. The air bubble will make sure that happens.”

  Lucas busted through the door. The metal snapped against the wall.

  Sorelli’s men jerked, dropped the needles, and reached for their guns.

  Zane and Lucas pulled the triggers at the same time, both bullets piercing the men between the eyes.

  Zane motioned to the back where a set of stairs led underground.

  Lucas took the lead, their guys passing by the windows offering reassurance that they had everything under control outside.

  Four steps down, the wooden slat creaked announcing Lucas’ arrival. Crouched and ready, he descended the rest of the way.

  Sorelli stood behind Chloe, his face pressed to hers, partially tucked behind her. One hand with a knife to her throat, the other resting along the edge of her shirt.

  “You disappoint me, Lucas. All this trouble for a piece of ass.” He tugged on Chloe’s collar and glanced inside.

  Lucas snarled.

  “I’ll give it to you; she’s a pretty amazing piece of ass, but they’re a dime a dozen. You could have been running the whole south district. But no,” Sorelli said with a shake of his head. The movement made his hand jerk, and the blade sliced along her skin.

  She didn’t move. She didn’t struggle. But her chest rose and fell with each breath, reassuring him she was alive.

  Strung out.

  But alive.

  Blood trickled down her skin.

  And the coward that hid behind the woman wasn’t going to come out. Not unless he had a shot at Lucas.

  Lucas dropped his gun. He shed his helmet and jacket and Kevlar. Standing there, arms out, in a tank top and cargos, he offered himself up. “You wanted me, Sorelli. I’m right here.” He took a step toward the arrogant bastard, and the blade bit into her skin again, sending a new trail of blood trickling down her neck.

  Zane kept his gun trained on Sorelli, his gaze darting about, searching for clean shot that Lucas couldn’t manage to leverage.

  “To think you were a kingpin in the drug world. Look at you now. Hiding behind a blitzed-out female. How much lower can you go, Bubba’s bitch in prison.”

  Sorelli’s lip curled, and he knew he had him.

  “How many times did you have to bend over and take it in the ass to earn that—”

  Sorelli shot up to his feet, yanking Chloe out of her chair and throwing her to the ground.

  Zane fired.

  Sorelli fell back.

  Lucas slid a blade from his boot and threw it clean through Sorelli’s throat, pinning him to the wall.

  Gurgling, blood flowed in a red river over Sorelli’s shirt as he bled out in a matter of seconds.

  Lucas knelt next to Chloe, his hands roaming over that warm skin, her heartbeat strong under his palms. “It’s okay, baby, we’ve got you.”

  “Got you,” she mumbled, her head lolling over his forearm.

  “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

  “I don’t think so,” a familiar deep voice said from behind him, the click of a gun cocking against his skull.

  Lucas raised his hands and craned his neck real slow, his gaze finally falling on his ex-boss, Vic Conroy.

  “Not so fast, Burke,” Vic said, one gun trained on Lucas, the other on Zane. “Where is it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucas said, the pieces starting to come together.

  The money seized coming into the department, then flowing out monthly.

  Vic’s call feigning concern over mutterings around the office. Probably about him.

  Getting in his former employees’ good graces, convinced that a good guy like Vic couldn’t possibly be on the take from a sick fuck like Sorelli after spending months building a case against him.

  Faking his own death so he could disappear with the cash.

  “The money. Don’t think you’re to come in here all commando and take what’s mine,” he spat the words, spittle flying from the corner of his mouth, sweat running down his forehead.

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