Black and Blue_Black Star Security

by Cynthia Rayne

West had spent most of the night listening to the woman in Nox’s room come again and again. And again. What did he do to her? Slip her some ecstasy? She’d screeched and yowled like a cat in heat. While he was annoyed, a small part of West was also fascinated. He didn’t know Nox very well, but if he worked as well as he fucked, they’d have no problems.

  Just then, Annie padded into the room on bare feet, and she also looked sleepy. West wondered if she’d tossed and turned like he had. Several times he’d gotten up and had to stop himself from walking down the hall to her bedroom. Especially after he heard those sounds.

  “Did the caterwaulin’ keep you up last night, Rook?” Zane asked.

  Bomber dozed on his lap, sleeping peacefully. Zane was a damn good trainer, and he kept his dog with him as much as possible. The pooch slept in the bed next to him, ate with him, played with him outside. He wanted absolute loyalty and obedience from the animal.

  “Yes, I need some earplugs.” She sighed, pushing a hand through her sleep tousled hair. She was still drowsy and half-aware.

  And then Nox swaggered down the stairs with a pretty brunette. If West wasn’t mistaken, there were rope marks on her wrists, but the sweet, satisfied smile on her lips told him it was consensual.

  Great. I’m sleeping next door to a kinky prick. This should work out great.

  West loved being in charge, but he wasn’t into whips and chains or whatever the fuck Nox did. For all West knew he had a cat of nine tails stuffed under his bed.

  And when the girl turned, they all got a free show. Nox had wandered downstairs buck naked and completely unashamed.

  Sweet Jesus. How does he even fasten his pants?

  The man had a Python between his legs, and if West wasn’t mistaken, the head had a ring through it. West winced, even thinking about piercing his junk hurt.

  Mack choked on her coffee, sputtering and coughing. Annie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head and she was wide awake now. West stifled the urge to cover them with his hand. King, Storm, and Zane openly stared, as though spellbound.

  At the door, Nox tugged Screamy into his arms, tilted her head back with one hand and then stuck his tongue down her throat. She melted into him with a soft sigh. And the two of them played tonsil hockey for an uncomfortably long time.

  West couldn’t help but shoot a glance at Annie who’d touched a fingertip to her lips, as though picturing being kissed.

  His fists clenched. Was she fantasizing about smooching Nox? He’d put the man through a wall.

  Biting her lip, she turned his way, and her lips parted.

  Naw, she wants to go West. He grinned. Hold on Rook, it’s only a matter of time.

  It was all he could do not to jump out of his chair, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her upstairs to his bedroom. He was so confused when it came to Annie, he didn’t know which way was up. His head told him to leave her alone, but his cock had other ideas.

  And what about your heart? Yeah, that’s too deep a thought for this time of day.

  “For fuck’s sake, put your dick away,” King said as soon as Screamy sailed out the door and hopped into her Prius. Her tires screeched as she pulled out of the driveway.

  “Why? Jealous?” He placed his hands on his hips, as though to show it off.

  “Please, mine’s twice as big. The problem is, we eat in here.” Zane scowled. “No naked dicks in the common areas.” He glanced around the room, seeking confirmation. “Are we cool with the new rule?”

  Mack lifted her cup in salute. “I second that motion.”

  Annie nodded in agreement.

  “All in favor?” West asked.

  Everybody raised their hands, except for Nox.

  “I still say y’all are jealous.”

  “For the record, mine’s bigger than all y’all’s.” King stood, as though they’d somehow forgotten how tall he was. Or how large. West had seen things in the group showers he couldn’t un-see.

  The coffee soured in his stomach, making it ache. Between the dick show and the green slime Storm wolfed down, he was going to toss his cookies.

  “Yeah? You’re full of it.” Nox crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Too. Much. Testosterone.” Mack punctuated her sentence with coughs.

  Annie smothered a giggle with her hand.

  King brought his hands to the waistband of his jeans. “Unless you want some shock and awe, I suggest y’all avert your eyes.” He nodded to Annie and Mack who’d gone wide-eyed.

  “Hey! We just passed the dick rule!” Zane said. “Keep it in your pants.”

  Shock and awe? What the actual fuck? West would be damned if he sat back while Annie was exposed to another prick that didn’t belong to him.

  “Keep your pants on.” West stood up, playing referee. He tossed a dishtowel to Nox. “And you, cover up. I’ve seen enough cock this mornin’.” West sighed as soon as he said the words. Didn’t that come out wrong?

  Zane and Storm snickered while King sat down with a disgruntled mumble.

  King shot a glance at Nox. “Okay, everybody’s too polite to ask, but I’m not. What the fuck were you doin’ to that woman?”

  Nox swaggered across the room. “If you gotta ask, you ain’t doing it right.”

  King’s brows shot up, and he turned to West, as though to say do something.

  The chain of command sucks. “You gotta be quieter, Nox, especially when my daughter’s stayin’ over.” He scowled at the man. “I ain’t ready to have a birds and bees conversation with her yet.”

  “Yeah,” Zane put in. “Fuck whomever you like, just do it discreetly.”

  “Understood. I’ll gag the next one. Hmm, maybe an O ring?” Nox poured himself a cup of joe and straddled a chair after he flipped it around.

  “And this bears repeatin’,” Zane said. “I don’t want any dick cheese on my food. Got it? No dick cheese.”

  Annie and Mack snickered. And West made a mental note to wash both the kitchen towel and the chair.

  Storm scratched his chin. “You’re awfully open about your tastes.”

  “This is a post Fifty Shades world, folks, so you’d better get over it.” Nox placed his hands behind his head. “I ain’t got nothin’ to be ashamed about.”

  ***

  An hour later, West took Annie and Mack with him to the jail. Zane, King, and Nox headed over to the fallout shelter to do some recon, while Storm worked on an unspecified “side project.”

  West didn’t question him about it because it would only make West worry. Storm had a serious disregard for rules. While he never broke the law, he bent it out of shape to suit his own purposes.

  And West didn’t like having a chaperone with them, but they needed Mack’s input. He wanted to have a follow up to their conversation last night. Actually, he just craved alone time with her. If nothing else, he’d love to flirt with Annie and get to know her better.

  Annie didn’t say much on the ride over, but Mack filled the silence, speculating about John Doe and how he’d recruited the thieves.

  West wondered if he should be concerned about her enthusiasm. Her face lit up when she spoke about Doe, as though he weren’t merely a target. Did she find him intriguing? As soon as he’d had the thought, he discarded it. Maybe she was just enjoying her job, and he was reading too much into it.

  Before showing up at the jail, West gave Huck a phone call and cleared their visit. According to the sheriff, all three of the robbers had priors, but it was minor stuff like disorderly conduct.

  The jail only had two cells, and all three robbers were crowded into one, and the other was empty. The thieves stood when they walked in the room.

  “You’re the bastard who put us in here,” one of them said, pointing at West. He stood in front of the other two, and West figured he must be the ring leader. Superman, if I’m not mistaken. He gestured to the others, and they reluctantly sat back down.

  “Actually,” West said, “Your piss poor plannin’ landed you behind bars. What’s your name, so
n?”

  Both Annie and Mack frowned at his tactics, but West ignored them. He hadn’t gotten much sleep, had a terminal case of blue balls, and a burning desire to fill his bank account.

  This piss ant wouldn’t stand in his way for long.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Ain’t your son. I’m a full-grown man.” He said this seriously, even though he was barely nineteen and covered in pimples.

  “Then act like it. Tell me your fuckin’ name.”

  “Peter Jacobs. And what’s yours?”

  “Jackson West, Peter. Pleased to meet you. At the risk of being rude, I’ll get straight to the point. I’m in the middle of an operation, and I need some intel from you.”

  “What kind of intelligence?” Peter asked, lifting his chin.

  “Who put you up to it?” Mack asked, stepping forward.

  He shrugged. “Who said we did anythin’?”

  West gritted his teeth. “Hey, genius, we’re the ones who apprehended you. Besides, you were caught on security cameras, and eyewitness testimony puts you at the scene. There’s no point in denyin’ what you did.”

  “Fine,” Peter snapped. “We decided to rob the bank. Nobody put us up to it.”

  Mack shook her head. “It doesn’t make any sense. None of you have serious criminal records. And one day, you up and decided to rob a bank? Why would you start with such a big target? Why not knock over a convenience store or something?”

  West doubted they’d planned anything. This had to be John Doe.

  Peter puffed out his chest. “Go big or go home, right?”

  “Come on, who’s the real mastermind?” Mack’s tone was even, coaxing. “We think it’s a robber known as John Doe.”

  Annie had remained silent, throughout the exchange, observing everything. Everyone.

  “Did you happen to see him? He’s a handsome man,” Annie said. “And he reminds me of a young Mark Harmon.

  Mack smiled appreciatively. “Oh yeah, Harmon’s damn sexy.”

  West rolled his eyes.

  “I don’t know who you’re talkin’ about.” Clearly, he was lying, and West didn’t need Storm to tell him so.

  “You might be interested to know that while you were risking your lives, creating a diversion for him, Doe walked away with a cool six figures.” Mack said this casually, as though it were an offhand remark. “He’s done this to other scapegoats before. You aren’t the first and won’t be the last.”

  The other two stood and whispered to one another. West couldn’t hear what they said, but there had to be dissension in the ranks. They motioned Peter over, and he listened to them, before turning his attention to Annie and Mack.

  “And he didn’t get caught?” Peter asked.

  Annie shook her head. “He never does. Doe wears disguises, so it’s difficult for people to identify him. He purposely set you up. ”

  “And what did you get for your trouble?” Mack frowned. “Not a red cent and up to twenty years in jail.” It would be a slam dunk case if they chose to go to trial.

  West was fascinated. Annie and Mack played off one another, ping-ponging back and forth. It was almost as if they’d been working together for years, developing a rhythm, a rapport.

  “We didn’t shoot nobody.” Peter cleared his throat. The robbers exchanged worried looks.

  Gotcha. West went in for the kill.

  “It doesn’t matter. You had a gun, and that’s all the judge cares about. They’ll throw the book at you.”

  “However, if you tell us what happened, maybe we can help you out,” Mack said smoothly. “The man we’re looking for has gotten away with millions of dollars, and he’s a fugitive, which puts you in an excellent bargaining position with the district attorney. He’s a big fish and you’re minnows.”

  “If you’re honest and helpful, it would go a long way into reducing your sentences,” Annie added.

  The three boys glanced at one another, having a silent conversation and then nodded in agreement.

  “What do you want to know?” Peter asked. “We’ll cooperate.”

  Mack and Annie exchanged smiles and then spoke in unison. “Everything.”

  ***

  “Doe found the dumbasses online.” Mack shook her head, still marveling at what they’d discovered. “And they went along with him for pity’s sake.” An hour later they’d finished interrogating the robbers, but they were no closer to finding John Doe.

  West was driving them back to HQ. Storm said they might’ve found something useful in the bunker and he prayed it was another lead. They were running out of options.

  “Who in their right mind agrees to do a bank job after talking to someone on Skype?” Annie massaged her temples, and he could feel the tension rippling off of her. West knew exactly how she felt.

  They’d hit another dead end.

  John Doe had found the would-be robbers on Craigslist, and when they’d spoken, he’d offered them bank schematics, timetables, and everything else they needed for the heist. It hadn’t occurred to them to ask why he wasn’t doing the operation himself, or why he wouldn’t be joining them. Instead, he’d asked for a modest 10% cut, and they hadn’t seen through his smokescreen.

  “Apparently those three are idiots.” West shook his head.

  Unfortunately, tracing Doe’s location would be difficult. The cops had already been through the criminal’s electronic devices, but they’d been corrupted by a virus. West had to hand it to John Doe, the man knew how to cover his own tracks.

  “We were so freaking close!” Annie shifted in her seat.

  “Stormy said he might’ve found something in the bunker.” West knew he had to cheer them up—morale was plummeting. “You were both outstandin’ today. We wouldn’t have gotten anywhere with the Three Stooges if you hadn’t worked together. You were both Gray Men.”

  Frowning, they stared at him.

  Most people assumed Navy SEALs were hot dogs, showing off and going after the glory, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Teamwork was important, as well as watching out for your brothers.

  West made a left turn. “I keep forgettin’ you weren’t trained like SEALs, which is a compliment by the way. During BUD/S, they introduced us to the concept of the Gray Man, a guy who pitches in and helps others out, who’s more focused on the team than himself. And we all aspire to be the Gray Man.”

  BUD/S or Basic Underwater Demolition SEAL training had been grueling, and West had made it through Hell Week by the force of his will alone. Hell Week had been appropriately named. He’d been tested emotionally and physically, pushed to his limits, and West found he not only survived but thrived under pressure.

  “Thanks, Chief,” Mack said.

  “Thank you, West,” Annie said.

  She still refused to use the title, and he chuckled. Annie was such a stubborn little thing, and in a way, she reminded West of himself. Annie didn’t back down, never gave up. She was a woman of worth, one of a kind.

  And West couldn’t stop thinking about her.

  ***

  “What did you find out?”

  When they returned to HQ, Storm was in the command center seated in front of a computer with three screens surrounding him. West had paid a pretty penny for all the necessary technology, and he’d gotten Stormy’s input on all of his purchases.

  Storm shook his head. “Not much. A lot of canned goods, toilet paper, and that’s it. The place was cleaned out.”

  “So John Doe and Turner are on the move.”

  “It’s a safe bet, Chief.” He snatched a piece of paper from the counter. “However, I found a notepad with indentations.” The paper was full of pencil markings, a hasty scribble, covering the entire sheet.

  “You traced what had been written on it?”

  “Yup, it’s a low-tech solution, but it works. Usually. This time, I only got two words from it, which sound like nonsense to me. Twin Otter.” Storm turned to Annie. “Does it mean anything to you?”

  She shook her he
ad. “I’m not surprised though, when it comes to John Doe, everything is a mystery. The man doesn’t exist.”

  “Think Turner wrote it instead?” Storm asked, and she shrugged.

  “For all we knew, Ryder got high one night and wrote it down.” As clues went, it sucked. “Who knows? Maybe the bastards are fucking with us?” West would give his eyeteeth for a drone right about now.

  “Wait a second. A Twin Otter is a type of airplane.” Mack sat beside Storm and typed on the keyboard, pulling up a picture of a small airplane on one of the screens.

  “How’d you know?” West asked.

  Mack swiveled to face him. “I got my pilot’s license a few years back, and I’ve flown one.”

  “Do any of them have a pilot’s license?” Stormy asked.

  “Turner and Ryder don’t, and I don’t have a clue about Doe, but it’s a good possibility.” Annie nodded to the computer. “Are there any private air fields around here?”

  West had a hunch they’d be dealing with Doe, not Turner. Doe seemed methodical, systematic, and the type who’d come up with a nearly fool proof exit strategy.

  Private airplanes weren’t subject to the same kind of scrutiny as commercial flights. Security at those is minimal. It’s like 9/11 never happened there. It would be easy for him to get in and out.

  West nodded. “Yeah, there’s one just up the road.”

  “I say we stake it out then.” Storm pulled up the airfield on the computer, so they could take a gander at it. “My guess is Doe will impersonate the owner.”

  “And here’s the twenty five thousand dollar question.” That was the reward for Doe’s capture. “Does anybody at this particular airport have a Twin Otter plane?”

  ***

  They sat on the airport, surveilling it, for three fucking days without a break.

  West was going out of his mind, waiting for something to happen. This was worse than any mission he’d ever been on, in terms of boredom.

  Annie had tacked up pictures of all Doe’s known disguises, so they had a clue what to look for. Doe was a chameleon—dyeing his hair different shades, and wearing colored contacts. Although, he “couldn’t disguise how handsome he is” according to Mack. From the footage they’d studied, he walked differently for each one, too. It’s almost as if he became other people.