“I don’t know, Nate,” Quinn said, “It sounds risky. What if someone gets hurt?”
Nathan’s voice hardened. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you got Singh involved. Time to earn your keep, Rook. You play it right, and no one will get hurt.”
Quinn said, “All right, if there’s no other way, I got your back.”
Nathan reached across the island and tapped him on the shoulder. “One other thing,” Nathan said, “If I’m wrong about Singh, and he doesn’t transport Jax soon, we’ll need to come up with another plan. Jax needs to be taken off the board before he talks. The next shipment will be here in four days—he can’t be a problem by then.”
He slid off the stool and walked toward the front door. “Get some rest. Tomorrow could be a long day.”
28
“You can’t be serious!” Elise paced around the office of King’s Ransom, her arms waving about her. “This is your plan?”
Exhausted after a long day, Alexis watched her assistant without enthusiasm. She sighed. “If you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it.”
Elise threw up her hands. “Anything would be better than this!” She paced for a few more minutes before she found a seat next to Alexis. She chewed on the tip of her tongue and kneaded her hands together. “This is crazy, Lexi. You can’t seriously be considering offering immunity to Eli Wurth. This man murdered your father.”
Alexis sat forward. “Do you think I need you to remind me of that?”
“Then why?”
“Where were you today?” Alexis asked.
Elise shuddered. “What?”
“Where were you?” Alexis said, “I was here, searching for an answer. Thinking and working and coming up with nothing better than what you feel is crazy. So where were you?”
Elise looked away. “The Ransom is shuttered, Lexi. I was out looking for work.”
Alexis shook her head. “I always admired your honesty, Elise. Until you started lying to me. You were gambling again, weren’t you?”
Elise leapt to her feet. “Not this again, Lexi. So what if I was? It’s under control. And changing the subject doesn’t change the insanity of your plan.”
“Maybe not,” Alexis admitted, “but then you weren’t here to come up with anything better, now were you? I don’t want to offer Wurth anything. But the facts are these. My source is in danger and my reputation is such now that, even if he gave me more on Miller, I couldn’t publish it without being accused of carrying a vendetta. I need hard proof if I’m ever to end the corruption of this city.”
Alexis reached out and lifted the ledger received from Leo Spagnuolo. “There’s a second ledger detailing every illicit crime. I know it. Wurth has to have it in his safe.”
She tossed the ledger back down and continued. “Believe me, Elise, I’ve tried to come up with a better plan. I need a look inside that safe. Gave real consideration to stealing it before I decided I didn’t like my odds. Wurth rarely left home during my surveillance, and I don’t have a lot of time to waste. And even if he left, would he be gone long enough for me to remove the safe? Odds are better, I’d be the one ending up behind bars.”
Alexis stood and paced the floor. “Then I thought, maybe I could just steal the contents. Until I remembered, I don’t know how to crack a safe and, again, I don’t have the time to learn. So this is what I’m left with. I need a look inside Wurth’s safe and my best—and only—shot at getting that look is asking him to show me. Only chance I can see of him doing that, is with an offer of personal immunity. If I guarantee to keep him out of it, maybe he turns. Maybe he’s tired of looking over his shoulder all these years.”
Elise moved next to Alexis. She placed her hands on her friend’s arms and said, “Maybe he’s not tired. You’re thinking about going into the lion’s den here—maybe he puts a bullet in your head.”
Alexis shook free of her hold. “It’s a risk, no doubt.” She looked Elise in the eye and said, “But at least I’m risking my life for something meaningful. Not just the rush of winning a game. If this works, I can get my source out of harm’s way. I can end the corruption in this city once and for all.”
“And if it doesn’t work?” Elise asked.
“Then you might have to look for another job, for real.”
29
Quinn checked the time on the dashboard. He waited behind the wheel of a beat-up two door coupe. The street, as expected, was quiet. He drummed his fingers on the wheel and steadied his breathing.
We’re a go. He received the call late last night from Nathan. Odom would be moved at ten in the morning. The plan had to be put in motion. He glanced across the street at Nathan standing in the shadows of an alley. This is crazy.
Nathan explained the plan last night.
Logue arranged a car for you. Found in the yard, untraceable.
Does it run? Quinn asked.
It’ll get the job done. All you need to do is wait for the van to approach and pull out in front of it. Try not to get t-boned. I’ll be waiting across the street. When the guard goes to check on you, pull your piece on him. We use him as leverage to get the other guard out of the cab. Then, we nab Odom. Easy, and no one gets hurt.
Quinn shuddered. No one gets hurt. Except maybe me. He gripped the wheel tighter, his palms sweating. The digital readout changed to 10:05 a.m. He looked to the right and saw Nathan nod. Past him, at the end of the street, the van turned the corner. His mouth went dry. With a deep breath, he put his mask in place and switched on the ignition.
The old beater coughed and spluttered to life. Timing will be everything. He recalled Nathan’s words as he shifted into drive and relaxed his death grip on the wheel. The van’s engine roared as it moved closer. Now or never.
He pressed his foot down, and the car responded. Racing forward, he turned the wheel to the left. The van’s horn blared moments before it slammed into his car’s front bumper. Quinn’s head collided with the driver’s side window, the impact sending his car spinning out of control.
Tinkling of broken glass and the hiss of steam greeted Quinn once the world stopped spinning. He groaned and reached into the compartment of the car door. His fingers felt the steel of his pistol. Chancing a glance around, he saw one guard approaching the vehicle. Showtime.
Warped from the impact, his door needed to be wrenched open and let out a wail of tortured metal before the guard ducked his head inside. “You okay buddy?”
The guard’s eyes widened when he saw the black ski mask. He took a step back, but Quinn raised his pistol to halt him. “Don’t move,” Quinn ordered.
The guard tensed. He glanced toward the van, then made his move. He reached for Quinn’s weapon. Getting both hands on it, he grappled with a stunned Quinn.
“Don’t be a hero.” A gun barrel placed behind his ear stopped the guard’s efforts. “You can go home tonight, or you can go the morgue,” Nathan said from behind his own ski mask, “The choice is yours.”
The guard let go of Quinn, raised his hands, and slowly backed out of the vehicle. Nathan grabbed him by the back of his neck and pushed him against the wrecked coupe. He fired a warning shot at the hood of the van. “No calls for help!”
Quinn climbed out of his seat on unsteady feet and trained his gun on the first guard. Nathan moved around the coupe and held the van’s driver in his sights. “Out of the van! NOW!”
The van’s driver held his hands up but showed no sign of exiting the vehicle. Quinn pressed his pistol against the guard’s neck and pushed him closer to the van.
“We’ll kill him!” Nathan shouted. “Out of the fucking van!”
After a tense moment, the door opened, and the driver exited the van. Nathan rushed forward and pushed him to the ground. With a nod, he motioned for Quinn to bring his prisoner forward. Quinn glanced around for prying eyes and shoved the guard. This is taking too long. We need to get moving.
When they reached the van, Quinn kicked the guard be
hind the knees and sent him sprawled to the pavement. Nathan bound both of their wrists and ankles. He then relieved them of their keys and weapons. He pocketed one pistol and tossed the other under the van.
Quinn followed him to the rear door of the van. “We’re taking too long,” he whispered, “Someone is going to come this way.”
Nathan silenced him with a shove. Quinn looked down to find the keys in his hand. “Open the door,” Nathan said.
Quinn stepped to the tailgate and unlocked the door. Nathan aimed his gun inside and drew a bead on a rattled Jax Odom, chained around his wrists and ankles. “Get him loose.”
Quinn gave Nathan one look before he jumped inside the van and went to work. He found the right key on the second try. The clink of chains echoed in the van. Odom smirked at him, and it turned Quinn’s stomach.
“Time to haul ass!” Nathan ordered.
Quinn followed Odom out of the van. He took a fleeting look around the scene before he followed them to the alley Nathan had been skulking in, and the clean car that awaited them.
Tires crunched snow and gravel as the late model sedan pulled over to the side of the road. After a pause, the tortured engine cut out. The vehicle’s doors opened—hinges squealed in the still air—and Nathan and Quinn exited.
They walked to the rear of the car where Nathan nodded toward the trunk. His weapon drawn, he said, “Open it.” The shadow of a vulture crossed overhead, and Nathan tightened his grip on the stolen pistol.
Quinn opened the trunk and stepped back. Jax flailed his legs out, kicking the trunk lid up before it lowered back on his head. He swore, “Shit. Why the fuck I had to ride in the trunk?”
Nathan watched him climb out and brush himself off. “You wouldn’t want us to be seen together, would you?”
Jax squinted under the noon day sun. He looked at their surroundings, and spit on the ground. “What the…?” he asked, “Where the hell are we?”
Nathan smiled. “Edge of town,” he said, “End of the line.” Using the pistol, he waved Jax away from the vehicle.
“What’s the gun for?” Jax asked.
Nathan looked at Quinn, who stepped forward to grab Jax. Quinn pulled him away from the car by the arm and tossed him down near the ditch. “You tried to blackmail me, you piece of shit,” Nathan asked, “Did you think this would end any other way?”
Jax raised his palms to calm Nathan. He pleaded with him. “Wait a minute. Just hold on a second.”
Nathan took a step closer. “You threatened to talk. You threatened me.”
Jax’s eyes widened. The pistol aimed between them left him stammering. “C—come on Miller. P—please. D—don’t d—do this.”
Nathan curled his upper lip in disdain. “Give me a reason.”
“Okay. Okay.” Jax wiped his brow of cold sweat and blinked in the harsh light. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t gonna talk, I swear. I just wanted out of there. You know I would never betray you, Miller.”
Nathan ground his teeth. He lowered the pistol a fraction and said, “You’d never involve children in the trade either. You swore that to me once too.”
“Jesus,” Jax swore, “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I fucked up.” His eyes roamed to Quinn, who stood stoic and silent, before returning to Nathan. “It won’t happen again.”
“I know,” Nathan ordered, “Up on your knees.”
Jax rose to his knees. His pants, soaked from snow melt, clung to his legs. He shivered. Wind rustled through the trees twenty feet behind him.
“What do you think, Rook?” Nathan said to Quinn, “Do we let him go?”
A hard expression etched on his face, Quinn answered, “He’s seen our faces, knows our names.”
Jax protested, but the gunshot swallowed his words. The blast shattered the quiet. A bullet ripped through Jax’s stomach, shredding internal organs and sending him to the ground writhing in agony. Quinn’s face blanched, and he whirled on Nathan. “What did you do? You said we were going scare him!”
Nathan asked, “Doesn’t he look scared to you?”
Quinn crouched over Jax. His blood pumped out of the hole in his stomach with each breath and stained the surrounding snow a terrible sanguine. Quinn’s hands hovered over the wound. Jax wailed in pain.
“Leave him, Rook,” Nathan said, “Gut shot—he’ll die nice and slow out here, all alone. No worse than he deserves.”
Quinn turned his head to look up at Nathan. “We can’t leave him here like this!”
“What do you suggest?” Nathan scoffed. “We take him to a hospital? You think we get away clean?”
Jax cried for help as blood continued to seep out of him. Quinn stood and took a step away. “We can’t let him suffer like this.”
Nathan took a moment to gauge his partner’s conviction. He clapped him on the shoulder and said, “You’re right.” Nathan thrust the stolen pistol into Quinn’s hand. “Put him out of his misery.”
Quinn backed up and held the gun out as if it were a serpent poised to strike. “I can’t—”
“But you can,” Nathan interrupted, “Choose a side, Rook.”
Quinn objected, “I chose a side. I helped you break him out, didn’t I?”
Nathan leaned in close enough to feel Quinn’s breath on his face. “Consider this the final test then. Do this, and I’ll know you’re all in.” Nathan held his gaze a long time before Quinn turned away.
He raised the pistol and Jax pleaded with him. “Please man…don’t do it.” Jax coughed. “I want to live.”
Nathan watched Quinn’s arm shake as he took aim. Quinn steadied his mark, set his jaw, and pulled the trigger. The gun shot echoed in their ears and snapped Jax’s skull backward.
Nathan applauded him. “Welcome aboard, Baker.” He took a step back and turned for the car. “Roll him in the ditch and toss the gun.”
Quinn dropped the gun. His whole body convulsed. He rolled Jax off the road. Wrapping his arms around himself, he stood there shaking in the blood tinged snow.
“You coming?” Nathan hollered.
Quinn wiped a hand across his face and found blood smeared on his fingers. With a last, pensive look at the carnage wrought, he turned and followed Nathan on unsteady legs.
30
Nathan removed the hood from over Leo Spagnuolo’s head and stepped back. Bound to a chair, Leo squinted from the bright light. As Nathan watched, a whump from outside shook the floor, and he saw dread realization dawn on Leo’s face. He knows where he is.
Through the walls they heard the whine of hydraulic motors, and Nathan noticed sweat bead on Leo’s forehead as he fidgeted with his restraints. Nathan remained within reach as a chair scraped across the floor.
Michael Logue placed the chair three feet in front of Leo. He leaned on the back of it and smiled. To his left, Eli Wurth wore a similar grin. Behind them in a corner, the last of the tableau, Quinn Baker stood with a dour expression.
“Hello, Leo,” Logue greeted him. “Can I offer you a glass of water?”
Leo said nothing, but Logue turned and walked over to the sink anyway. As he poured a glass, another whump shook the office, louder than the last. Logue continued to smile as he returned to Leo and held out the glass. His hands still bound, Leo could only gaze at it.
“Ahhh,” Logue said, “silly me.” He set the glass down beside Leo and turned back for his own chair. Before he sat, he looked at Leo, tilted his head to the right, and said, “Oh, but you look scared Leo.” Logue wagged a finger at him. “Have you done something you shouldn’t have?”
Leo squared his jaw, stared at Logue, and said, “Fuck you.”
Logue frowned and shook his head. He took his seat and entwined his fingers before him. “So insolent, just like your old man at the last.” His eyes drifted to Nathan to give the signal.
Nathan lashed out with his right hand, punching Leo hard on the cheek. The impact sent him slumping over to his right. He spat blood on the floor before righting himself.
>
Logue asked, “How much did you know about your father’s business?”
Defiant, Leo said, “You mean before you killed him?”
Logue nodded to Nathan. “Introduce him to the left hand.”
Nathan stepped in front of Leo. A wicked grin parted his lips as he drove his fist into Leo’s solar plexus. The blow sent Leo toppling to the ground. His hands remained tied behind his back and pain radiated out from his shoulders. He gasped for breath stolen from him before he coughed. Nathan bent over him and pulled him back up to a sitting position.
“You know,” Logue said, “I remember your father mentioning he had a ledger. We never found it. My associates didn’t find it at your place either. Do you know anything about it, Leo?”
His breathing labored, Leo said, “Go to hell.”
Logue wagged a finger at him. “Have another go at him, Nate.”
A right hook landed to Leo’s jaw, followed up by another left to his stomach. Nathan kept him from toppling and worked him over. Rights and lefts rained down on Leo’s face and chest, splitting him open on the lips, above his eyes, and both cheeks.
“That’s enough!” Quinn hollered as he stepped forward.
“Shut it, Rook,” Eli said, “Know your role.”
Nathan turned from Leo and warned Quinn to stand down with a slight shake of his head.
“Perhaps he’s right,” Logue said. “Let’s try this another way.” He rose from his chair and stood over Leo’s battered and near unconscious form. He kneeled in front of him and reached out to lift his swollen face off his chest. To rouse him, Logue snapped his fingers in front of Leo’s bleeding nose.
“Let me put your mind at ease because I know you must be wondering,” Logue said, “Yes, this is the end for you. No one knows you’re here thanks to the EMP micro emitter that scrambled your Identchip tracking. We are going to kill you, so don’t worry about that. The only thing you need to worry about is how we’re going to kill you. It doesn’t have to be this painful Leo. Answer my questions honestly and we can put you out of your misery. And believe me, in the end, you will talk. Cooperate and you can go the same way your father did.” He clapped him on the back. “And hey, that’s poetic in a way.”
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