by Janie Crouch
“Mr. Belisario.” Molly’s words came out funny because of how he held her face. “We found evidence, but nothing had anything to do with you. It was all concerning Senator Edmundson. Evidently, he was working with the White Revolution Party in the Chicago bombing a couple weeks ago.”
Belisario released her chin and tilted his head at the man holding her arm. He threw Molly down into one of the chairs at her kitchen table.
“White Revolution Party, the white supremacy group? What a shame the senator got caught up with people like them.” He tsked and shook his head. “But sometimes you have to do business with people you find distasteful.”
There was obviously something Molly didn’t understand here, a vital piece of information she was missing. And it all came down to what could be important enough that Pablo Belisario would be here, in Colorado, himself. That would happen only under the most dire of circumstances, she was sure.
And then the obvious truth hit her. “You’re part of the Chicago bombing, too.”
“So clever.” He touched her on the cheek and Molly cringed away. “I guess I should expect that from a scientist.”
“There’s something on the data drive that incriminates you also.”
“The Chicago bombing was my plan. Edmundson already had ties to the White Revolution Party long before that happened. But he was key to me being able to do business with them. They are white supremacists after all, and I am Latino. Ignorance of that magnitude is so difficult to swallow.”
“But why would you want to perpetrate a terrorist attack on Chicago? On anywhere in the United States? What would you stand to gain?”
“Interestingly, the White Revolution Party, Edmundson and I were all united on that one point—we all wanted the US Government focused on terrorists and international threats. Something like this happens and everyone in the government gets thrown into a tizzy. Money is flung everywhere.”
Belisario’s smile made Molly’s skin crawl. “Edmundson wanted the government to propel money toward whatever he was trying to get funded. I don’t know exactly what it was, and I don’t care. He called himself a ‘patriot who was willing to slaughter a few to protect the many.’”
He leaned down close to her. “The White Revolution Party and I realized that every time the national focus is on solving some big attack, or finding some elusive Middle Eastern terrorist group, less focus is on us and our activities. I’ve been able to move billions in product since the bombing, easier than ever before.
“The three of us working together made a perfect triangle. The White Revolution Party planned and created the bombs, since they had the means and knowledge, but they couldn’t actually plant them because of how they are watched by federal agents all the time. I had no knowledge of how to make bombs or where to put them, but was not being watched for this sort of activity, so my men could plant the explosives.”
His face, only inches from hers, was almost giddy with his own self-importance.
“And Edmundson handled misdirecting the investigation away from you or the WRP,” Molly finished for him.
“Exactly.” He stood straight again.
“It was a good plan.” Molly had to admit it. She also had to admit to herself that there was no way she was leaving this house alive. Not with all the knowledge she now had about Belisario.
Molly had no idea how to get herself out of this. As long as Belisario kept monologuing, she was relatively safe, but that couldn’t go on forever.
“But something went wrong, didn’t it?”
Belisario’s lips tightened into a thin line. “No honor among thieves. That’s the saying, is it not? I knew I could not trust either party I found myself partnered with, but especially Edmundson. It would be just like him to try to make himself the hero by proving the White Revolution Party and I worked together on the bombing. Thus the drive with all the pictures of the WRP leadership and Edmundson together.”
Out of the corner of her eye Molly saw Brandon shift slightly on the floor, then still himself. Maybe he was awake.
“Ends up my instincts were correct. Edmundson was already giving signs of double-crossing me, threatening to lead law enforcement my way. So I decided I best show Edmundson the damning evidence I had on him, although I didn’t necessarily plan to use it.”
“The pictures,” Molly whispered. She tried to shift farther away on her chair, but a hand instantly clamped down on her shoulder.
“Yes. But then the WRP found out we were meeting and got nervous and sent their own representatives. And that’s when your Omega agents caught the trail. The drive wasn’t destroyed in the fire and the WRP man was killed.
“Edmundson hired someone to blow up the lab when we learned the drive wasn’t destroyed. And asked me to question you to make sure all the data had been eliminated.”
Belisario shook his head as if in disbelief. “Despite all our attempts otherwise, that drive is still in the hands of law enforcement. Unfortunately, with Edmundson out of the picture I no longer have a foothold in law enforcement. But I don’t need it, because I have you.”
“M-me?” Molly stuttered. Although it sounded like a good thing, it was bad. Really bad.
“There are, unfortunately, a couple of photos on the drive that are incriminating for me. One of my men that I had placed within the WRP was in one of the photos. You, and the men who rescued you from my estate, are the only ones who can make the link between him and me.”
He smiled almost sweetly at her.
“I need you to call your friends and tell them to come here. Right now.”
“But...” Molly did not want to call Derek and invite him to his death. “There were, like, twenty people who rescued me.”
The blow from Belisario knocked her off her chair. The world spun as the guy behind her picked her up and plopped her back in the chair.
“That was for the lies, the made-up names you gave me before,” Belisario said. He turned and pointed at Brandon Han. “Bring him over here.”
They dragged the agent over to the table. Blood was oozing from the wound on his head just behind his ear.
Belisario pulled out a gun elongated by its silencer and pointed it at Brandon’s head.
“We know there were two men who broke in to the estate that night. You will contact them right now, or I will kill this man.”
Brandon’s brown eyes looked at her, but he didn’t say a word.
“One.”
Could she trade Brandon’s life for Derek’s?
“Two.”
“Okay, stop!” Molly yelled. “I will call him. But I don’t have a phone.”
“See, he did come to some use, didn’t he?” As if they were having a genteel conversation about dinner plans, Belisario handed her his phone. “By all means, use mine.”
She dialed Derek’s burner phone number—thank God he had forced her to memorize the new number—and listened as it rang. She thought he wasn’t going to pick it up, which would at least take this impossible situation out of her hands.
“Waterman.”
“Derek, it’s Molly.”
“Molly, are you okay? Where—”
Belisario snatched the phone out of Molly’s hand. “Derek Waterman is it?”
“Belisario.” Molly could hear Derek’s voice even though she didn’t have a phone up to her ear.
“Oh, good, you know who I am. I will make this very easy for you, Mr. Waterman. I have the lovely Ms. Humphries right here with me at her house. Hold just one moment, please.” He put the phone on her table and extended his hand out to Molly. She reluctantly placed her hand in his. When he brought it up to his lips, she barely restrained her cringe.
But then he turned her hand around in his and calmly yanked sideways while twisting on her pinky.
Molly felt the bone break.
She saw Brandon stand up and lunge across the table, even with his hands tied, before he was roughly thrown back down by the other man and slugged in the face for his efforts.
Molly tried to get her breathing under control, but could only seem to sob as she cradled her wounded hand to her chest. Belisario brought the phone back up to his ear.
“Now, now,” he laughed. “Is that the language becoming of a federal agent? Hold just a moment and let me put you on Speaker so you and Ms. Humphries can hear each other more easily.”
Molly knew Belisario wanted her in hysterics to motivate Derek to do what he asked. But even knowing it, she couldn’t seem to stop sobbing.
“Molly? Molly, baby, hang in there,” Derek said. “I’m coming, okay?”
“That was her pinky, Mr. Waterman,” Belisario told him. “I will break another of her bones every ten minutes until you and the other man who was with you at my estate arrive. Alone.”
“I’ve got to find Liam, and I’m across town, you bastard. There’s no way I can get there in less than thirty minutes.”
“Unfortunately, then, it seems like Ms. Humphries will have three more broken bones by that time.”
Belisario smiled at Molly and disconnected the call.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Derek was going to kill that son of a bitch.
He hit the side button on his watch so he had an exact countdown for the time. Because he was sure Belisario would be true to his word about every ten minutes.
Molly’s scream as that bastard broke her finger would haunt Derek for a long time. He was still sweating even though the weather was mild. Adrenaline coursed through him.
He was ready to fight.
Liam was on his way, as were Jon and Steve. He estimated Liam’s arrival would be in another ten minutes. Jon and Steve’s sometime after that, depending on where they were when Liam was able to contact them.
Derek had told Belisario it would take him thirty minutes to get there. He’d lied.
He was already on the roof of Molly’s house. And he’d be damned if he was going to let another of Molly’s bones be broken.
Eight minutes.
Mrs. Pope had been very surprised to see him when he’d knocked on her door a few minutes ago. He’d shown her his badge. “Molly’s in trouble, Mrs. Pope. I need to use the roof access to get her away from the bad people who have her.”
He’d expected hysterics, expected her threatening to call the police, expected to have to traumatize the old woman by locking her in a closet.
Instead she’d let him in saying, “Is it like that remake of the Hawaii Five-O show? I love that program. I watch it every week.”
“Yes, ma’am. Something just like that.” He smiled and quickly made his way up the stairs.
“Book ’em, Danno,” she’d called after him, giggling like a schoolgirl.
Booking had been the plan before Belisario had decided to start torturing Molly. Now all bets were off.
Seven minutes.
Derek dialed Liam’s number. “Bastard called me. Said he would break one of Molly’s bones for every ten minutes it takes you and me to get to him.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I heard him break one already.”
Liam let out a blue streak, which matched Derek’s feelings exactly. “I’m five minutes out.”
Five minutes was cutting it close to the next deadline.
“There’s roof access to her condo. I’m already on it. They won’t be expecting me coming from this way or this early.”
“Is Han in play?”
Brandon Han was not only the smartest guy they all knew, he was wicked good in hand-to-hand fighting. Black belt in all sorts of martial arts. But if he was dead or injured, he wouldn’t be any help to them.
“Unknown. We can’t count on him.”
Six minutes.
“I’ll get in position,” Derek told him. “You ring the doorbell. They won’t be expecting it to be us this soon. You take out whoever is at the door, I’ll try to take out the rest.”
“We don’t know how many are in there, Derek. We may be way outnumbered.”
“I know. But I also know that Belisario has no intentions of letting any of us leave alive anyway. We may as well go down fighting if we have to go down.”
Derek grimaced. Molly would be right in the middle of the firefight.
“Jon and Steve are about ten minutes behind me. I’ll tell them to just come in hot. Might as well add more partygoers to this throwdown. See you soon, brother. Be careful.”
Derek heard the car speed up as Liam disconnected.
Five minutes.
The roof door was still broken from where they’d gotten in yesterday, so Derek inched it open as quietly as possible. The element of surprise was his only tactical advantage.
Weapon drawn, he eased down the steps, opened the door that led into Molly’s hallway. No one seemed to be upstairs, but Derek checked again, just in case. Although taking someone out without notifying everyone downstairs of his presence would be just about impossible.
Four minutes.
As he neared the main stairs, Molly’s quiet crying tore at his heart. He just wanted to get her to a place where she never had to cry again. To get Belisario out of their lives for good.
Liam would be ringing the doorbell soon and Derek wanted to be in place to do the most damage while they had the element of surprise. The two men talking allowed him to slip down the stairs without anyone hearing him.
He eased himself around the corner and kept to the wall, taking small steps toward the kitchen.
Three minutes.
“So Ms. Humphries, Mr. Waterman didn’t think he’d be here for thirty minutes. And it looks like we’re coming up on the ten minute mark. What do you think, your other pinky this time?”
Derek expected Molly to cry more at that, but after a moment of quiet she spoke.
“You know what, Belisario, go—”
Derek couldn’t clearly hear the rest of Molly’s statement, but he was pretty sure that what she wanted Belisario to do to himself was anatomically impossible. Derek smiled at her spunk. That was his girl.
“We’ll see if you’re so spirited in two minutes,” Belisario replied.
Derek felt the silent vibration in his pocket. A text from Liam.
At least three minutes out. Not going to make it in time.
Damn it. Molly didn’t have three minutes.
Forget the doorbell. Derek texted him back. Get here as soon as you can and come in loud and hot.
K. Stay away from the front door.
Derek put his phone back in his pocket and eased to the corner, dropping low so he could peek around without being spotted. He only needed one second to ascertain the situation.
Belisario stood across from Molly; one of his men stood directly behind her. Brandon Han, alive but restrained, was on the other side of the table, injured.
If he had to do this alone, he would round the corner, take out the guard closest to Molly, then Belisario. He damn well wasn’t going to sit here while another finger was broken.
Derek was about to make his move when he felt the muzzle of a gun against the back of his head.
Damn it.
“Stand up. Keep your hands up, too.” The man took Derek’s weapon out of his hand and nudged him forward with his gun. They rounded the corner.
“Boss.”
“Ah, Mr. Waterman,” Belisario said. “It seems like you were able to join us just a little sooner than you thought.”
“I like to be early for my parties.” Derek made eye contact with Molly, giving her a half smile, hoping it would be encouraging. She was pale and visibly sweating.
“And where is the other person who was supposed to be with you? Niam, is it?”
“Liam. He’ll be here soon.”
“Not soon enough to save Ms. Humphries from another broken bone, I’m afraid.”
Derek watched as Molly blanched, the last of the color draining from her face.
“How about if you break one of mine instead, if you’ve got some weird fetish with the bone-breaking thing.” It wouldn’t be the first bone he’d ever had broken. Growing up on a ranch in Wyoming had made sure of that.
And it would be much less painful than watching Molly suffer more.
Which evidently Belisario had figured out. “Oh, no,” he said. “I’ll keep my word. One of Ms. Humphries bones every ten minutes.”
Derek dove for the other man, he didn’t care if it got him shot. But Belisario’s two goons grabbed him before he could pound the man’s face in like he wanted to. One on each arm, they dragged him back.
Brandon leapt across the table at Belisario when he came near Molly again, but Belisario clocked him in the head with the butt of his gun. Han fell unconscious to the floor.
Molly backed away from Belisario as he came closer to her, fear obvious on her face.
“Stop, or I shoot your boyfriend in the kneecaps, then still break your finger.”
Molly stopped. Belisario took a step forward.
Then the whole front of the building seemed to cave in with a huge crashing noise.
Liam had arrived.
Derek took advantage of the men’s confusion and yanked himself from their grips. He hit the first one with an uppercut that no doubt broke the man’s nose and sent him straight to the floor. Derek leapt behind Molly’s couch, landing hard on the floor, knowing Belisario’s other man would be shooting at him. Bullets flew past him, as he grabbed his backup weapon from his ankle holster. He felt a searing pain in his arm as a bullet grazed him.
Scrambling to the side, Derek jumped up from the side of the couch the man wasn’t expecting. Derek was able to get off a shot before the man could turn his gun back toward him. He fell dead from Derek’s chest shot.