“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the bar owner wheezed between words. “We’re friends.”
Just for that, Mace struck out, breaking his nose. Hating that he was reduced to this, hurting a man he’d thought was a friend.
“We know you’re the Broker,” he repeated. “There’s no denying it. We’re past that. We know you sold us out. What we don’t know is who you sold us out to and what you told them. Start talking. You know I can make this last, and you know how painful it will be while I do it.”
Glen’s eyes flickered over the room, looking for an out, realizing there wasn’t one. That’s when his tactics changed from denial to cooperation. There was cunning in the man’s eyes. Something he’d never before let the team see.
“I’ll tell you everything I know, but you have to let me live.”
Yeah, he was going to try to negotiate. The fool. He didn’t have anything to negotiate with, but they’d play along to get answers. For now. “You sold us out. You deserve to die.”
“I have information.” Glen licked his lips. “I never told them anything about you specifically. Just the girl.”
“What did you tell them?”
Glen shook his head, wincing with pain. “I want your word. I know you never break it. I want your word that you won’t kill me.”
The siblings shared a speaking look. Sandi gave a short, sharp nod of agreement.
“You have my word.” Mace tried not to vomit at the triumph in the bar owner’s face. “I won’t kill you. But that’s depends on you talking. You hold back, and all bets are off.”
“I understand.” The words were overflowing with fake submission.
“You told Enforcement Friday Jones was holed up in South Munroe.” It wasn’t a question. “You told them about the tunnels.”
Glen nodded then grimaced in pain. “Yeah. I deal with Miriam Shepherd, among others.” He tried to hide his pride over his lofty connections. He failed. “She wanted to know about your team, about the scientist.”
“And you told her?” The urge to pummel the man into the ground was intense.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sandi vibrate with rage over Glen’s confession.
“I gave Miriam the tunnels and South Munroe, and that you were meeting the jet in Monterrey. But that’s it. That’s all I told her.”
He said it as though it were nothing. As though he’d shared minor, throwaway information about the team. A muscle in Mace’s jaw began to twitch wildly. Three times he’d almost been killed, because of this man. His friend.
“What else did you tell her about us, about my team?”
Glen’s eyes flickered between them, calculating how much he should give up. Mace’s fist shot out, hitting his jaw. There was a satisfying crack.
“Fuck!” Glen spat out a tooth. “We have a deal!”
“I said I wouldn’t kill you. Not that I wouldn’t hurt you. You were thinking of holding back information. I want it all.”
“Fine. Fine.” He licked his bloody lip. “I told her your team appeared three years ago, from nowhere. You have no background. None of you. I told her nobody’s heard of you in the Coalition Countries. It’s like you appeared out of thin air. I told her you can somehow get through the Red Zone. And that you have a base somewhere between here and Mexico, but I didn’t know where. I told her you were the best in the smuggling business.” His look said they should have been pleased he talked them up. “That’s it. That’s all I knew. That’s all I told her.”
Mace turned to his sister, knowing she had let her senses loose—the ones she’d gained from her animal. She nodded once. The bar owner was telling the truth. Sandi would have known otherwise. But from the look on their former friend’s face, he definitely held back something more.
“What else?”
Glen’s eyes narrowed as though he was still trying to figure out what he could get away with. Mace withdrew the knife he kept strapped at his waist and tossed it in the air. Like he’d said, he wouldn’t kill him, but that left a whole lot of space for inflicting pain.
“I had another contact.” The bar owner rushed to get the words out. “Sandrine Cherbourg, she wanted to know about the scientist, too. I told her about Monterrey and the jet.”
That explained the second team. The leader of the Southern Territory had been after Friday and the information in her head. Sandrine had been making a power play. A poorly staged one at that. He flipped the knife, letting his eyes roam over Glen as though looking for a good place to stick the blade.
Glen’s skin turned gray. “I told them about the poison the scientist took. I told them she was on a deadline to get the antidote.”
“Who did you tell?”
“Miriam Shepherd, Serge Abramovich.”
Fuck, the whole world was looking for Friday. This mess was much bigger than any of them had imagined. Whatever was in the scientist’s head was obviously a threat to all of the Territory leaders.
“You told them she needed the antidote for Interferan-X?”
“Yeah.” Blood ran from his mouth and down his jaw. “I overheard when she was talking to Striker.”
“You overheard?” He arched an eyebrow. Glen had been at the other end of the room during that conversation.
The bar owner looked away. “I have all the tables bugged. Now let me go. That’s everything I know, all the information I sold. I swear.”
Sandi shook her head. “We know it isn’t everything. We want every detail you have concerning Friday Jones.”
Mace was done with this shit. Enough prevaricating. He swung his arm and embedded the knife in Glen’s thigh. His scream was a high-pitched wail, even though the knife hadn’t hit anything vital.
“No more,” Glen shouted. “I’ll tell you everything. The only other thing I know is that Miriam Shepherd sent her lapdog to La Paz to deal with the woman. He took a team with him.”
The siblings froze. Kane Duggan was in La Paz. And Striker was alone with Friday, with no team to back him up.
“That’s it, that’s everything. I swear.” Glen didn’t look too manipulative now. “You have to untie me. We have a deal.”
Mace crouched in front of his former friend. “See, here’s the thing. Our deal wasn’t for your freedom. Our deal was that I wouldn’t kill you. And I won’t.” He stood, strolled over to the door, and pulled the chair out from under the knob. “But Sandi didn’t make that promise.”
“I hate scum like you.” Sandi’s voice was ice cold. She lifted her gun and aimed for Glen’s forehead.
“No!” he roared.
She pulled the trigger. The bar owner’s head shot back before it slumped forward, blood oozing from the hole in his forehead. The siblings didn’t linger to look at the man. He was old news to them now. Instead, they headed out of the office and into the bar. Nobody stopped them. The gunshot was swallowed by the loud music.
Sandi glanced around, obviously taking one last look at the place. “Now we need to find somewhere else to drink. I hate looking for a new bar. It’s like trying to find the perfect shoes.”
They pushed through the doors and out into the night. Once in their hovercar, Mace hit the comm button for the base.
“Yo,” Hunter said.
“Glen has been eliminated.” He swallowed the feeling of revulsion. Of betrayal. Would there ever be a time when the people they trusted didn’t turn against them? “Kane Duggan is in La Paz.”
“That explains it.” Hunter’s words made the hair on the back of Mace’s neck stand on end. “We’ve lost contact with Striker.”
“Get us on a plane to La Paz.” He started the car and headed for the airport.
“Already done. There’s a jet waiting. Jeremiah, Doc, and Ignacio are on their way, too. They’ll pick up their ride in Monterrey.”
That was still hours out. Hours where Striker was alone to fend off the butcher of the Northern Territory.
“It’s worse, man,” Hunter said. “Kane blew up the clinic. I booke
d Striker and Friday on a flight to New York. They never boarded.”
Hunter was right. It was worse. No antidote. No backup. And Kane Duggan.
If they didn’t get to Striker fast, he was fucked.
They all were.
“Do we have anyone in the area we can trust?” Someone who could act as backup until they got there.
“No.”
“Is his tracking device enabled?”
“No.”
“Damn it.”
“Yeah,” Hunter said. “Get to the jet. Save our boy.”
Mace noticed Hunter didn’t mention Friday. There would be no saving the scientist now. They all knew she was already dead.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Striker was seriously going to go Hulk on somebody’s ass. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this furious. Even when he woke to discover somebody had stolen his world and given him a reptile in exchange.
Kill! Save mine!
His talking handbag hadn’t shut up since somebody had immobilized them. Apparently, the diamondback really didn’t like having its body frozen.
As for Friday, as soon as he was able to move again, Striker planned to shake her until her bones rattled. Leave him? She’d been planning on leaving him?
Hell no!
Not gonna happen.
Not over something as dumb as trying to save him from her.
Kill! Save mine!
Shut up! I can’t think with you screaming.
Save mine!
There was no shutting the damn rattler up. And to add insult to injury, he’d been tied hands and feet and shoved in the boot of a hatchback. It wasn’t even a proper boot. It was the equivalent of putting the dog in the back of the car. At least he could see out the windows and knew they were heading south through the city.
Friday was in the car, too. He could see the back of her head. She sat, surrounded by muscle, in the middle row of seats. There were two guys in the back row nearest him, two on either side of his woman, and two in the front.
It occurred to him that they were driving in a people mover. He was stuck in a mom van on the way to soccer practice with his team. Oh yeah, and it was possible he was losing his mind.
Let me free. I get her.
He wished he could knock some sense into the diamondback. If he set the damn thing free in a car with Kane Duggan, he’d end up on a dissection table at a CommTECH research facility. And who would save Friday then?
No, he needed a better plan. A sensible plan. He hadn’t been immobilized for long, but he knew they’d missed their flight to the Northern Territory. They still had time to get to New York and get the antidote before the deadline. He was sure of it. All they needed was nine hours. An hour to get to La Paz airport, seven for the superfast jet to New York and another hour to get to the clinic. Sure, he’d have to break every speed limit on the planet, but it was doable. He just needed to get out of his current predicament with nine hours to spare.
“Where are you taking us?” Friday’s voice cut through his thoughts.
Of course, she was going to ask questions. And more than likely, those questions were going to piss their captors off. If only he had a telepathic link to her instead of his other half. It would have been a whole lot more use.
Go to hell, the diamondback said helpfully, having read his mind.
“Somewhere secure.” Kane’s voice was easy to recognize. It was a flat, emotionless void.
“To download the data from my chip?”
“Nobody wants the information on your data chip. We’re more interested in stopping it from getting out.”
There was silence as Striker watched the buildings zoom past. He struggled at his bonds, but he couldn’t break them. His fingers felt along the strap securing his hands. It was the equivalent of an old zip tie. It could be cut, but the goons had relieved him of all tools and weapons.
“You’re going to kill me.” Friday sounded calm. Far too calm.
She sounded like she’d accepted her fate. Her death. The anger he’d been fighting to contain surged.
Kill. Save Friday. Save mine.
Not helping, he told the rattler.
“I don’t need to kill you,” Kane said. “You’ve done that for me. All I need to do is watch it happen.”
Over my dead body, he told his diamondback.
For once, the rattler agreed.
If I call you out, you need to follow orders. We need to work as a team.
Kill!
He almost screamed in frustration. It was like dealing with a stubborn two-year-old. Not kill. I need you to bite through the bonds around my wrists and ankles. Then I need you to come straight back onto my skin. If you don’t, they’ll know you’re here, and they’ll kill Friday. Do you hear me? They won’t give us a chance to save her. They’ll kill her.
There was silence for a beat. I follow.
He fought the sigh of relief that wanted to escape. Okay. Here goes. Do exactly what I tell you. We need to work together to save her.
Okay.
Against his better judgment, he called the diamondback from his body, hoping the slight snapping sound wouldn’t attract anyone’s attention.
Don’t rattle! He ordered before sending the snake images of the bonds and telling him what to do.
He felt the diamondback slide over him to where his hands were tied at the base of his back. He kept watch as the rattler gnawed at the bindings. They passed an armed checkpoint, where Kane was addressed as “sir” before they were waved on through. Where the hell were they taking them? And why was someone showing Kane Duggan deference in a Coalition country?
“Why aren’t there any company logos on these buildings?” Friday asked. “What is this place?”
Their captor barked a cold approximation of a laugh. “Welcome to CommTECH’s top secret ladmium mine.”
There was a pause. “CommTECH isn’t allowed to mine in Bolivia. The Bolivian government only allows state-owned mining operations.”
“Is that right?” Kane drawled, making his men chuckle.
“What’s that in the sky? It’s a grid. No, wait… There are too many drones, it’s a—” She gasped. “It’s a holomatrix. This whole area is shielded from satellite screening. You’re hiding this operation from the world.”
“That’s what top secret means.” The CommTECH enforcer was as close to amused as the man probably ever got.
“No! You can’t do this. There are international agreements in place. You can’t mine here.”
Her head turned frantically as she tried to get a better view of the site.
She needs help! The rattler shifted as if to go to her.
No! Finish what you’re doing, then we can both help her. He put as much authority as possible into his words. The diamondback grumbled but went back to gnawing at the zip tie.
“You’ve destroyed most of the lower city. The historical buildings, the people.” Friday’s voice was shaking with her distress. “Oh my goodness, you’ve done this by force haven’t you? You’re forcing the people to work for you? You’ve enacted war on the Coalition Countries by doing this against Bolivia’s will.”
The laughter that filled the car was superior and cruel. As soon as he heard it, he knew exactly what had happened. The Bolivian president had gone behind the backs of the Coalition governments and made a deal with CommTECH. He’d sold out his country.
“Nobody even knows we’re here,” Kane said. “Except the very welcoming Bolivian president.”
She gasped. “The holomatrix. It projects an image for the world that shows the city the way it used to be, doesn’t it? They’ll find out about this. You can’t keep something this big secret for long. The Coalition Countries will find out.”
“Are you going to tell them, Ms. Jones?” There was that cold amusement again. “Before or after the poison gets you?”
Done, the diamondback said.
Striker felt the band give and his hands were loose.
Ankles now. Fas
t.
With slow, tiny movements, he rubbed his wrists before inching his hand to his belt. He pressed his thumb against the center of the buckle, activating the tracking device built into it and hoping the damn thing worked. He then moved his hands back behind him, in case someone checked on him. It was best if they all thought he was still bound.
“You bastard!” Friday snapped, making him blink. He didn’t think she knew any curses. “You think you can get away with anything, but you can’t.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. I can do whatever I like. Who’s going to stop me?”
Striker felt the tension around his ankles give way, and he shifted his feet. Get back on me, he ordered his rattler.
I help.
You help by getting back in position.
I kill. Save mine.
Get back! If they find out about you, you risk all of us. And you’ll get Friday killed.
With a grumble, the snake crawled up his body and snapped into place. You better save her. She mine.
Yeah, yeah. You keep telling me. You’re a different species, you realize that, right?
The reply was silence, which was way better than listening to more rubbish from a talking reptile.
This was his life. He now talked to snakes.
…
Friday couldn’t think. Her brain had been fried from data overload. She knew any sane person in her position would focus on having mere hours to live, but all she could think about was the man she loved. He was hurt, bound and immobile in the back of the car, and there was nothing she could do to help him. She’d begged her captor to release him, but all he’d done was laugh.
She should never have dragged Striker into her mess. She should have found a hole to sit in after she took the poison and waited for death to come find her. After a lifetime of struggling against her circumstances, she should have learned that there was no happy ending for women like her. Women who were born without options.
From the moment she’d been dumped in front of the CommTECH headquarters as a baby, her life had been overshadowed by the company. Her education had been furnished by CommTECH at the expense of her freedom. Her work revolved around CommTECH. Her only friends, well, acquaintances, were all CommTECH employees. Hell, she’d even lost her virginity to a fellow CommTECH scientist on the floor of the company’s lab.
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