Sounds to Die By: Sensory Ops, Book 1

by Nikki Duncan

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “Out of the way.” He shoved her toward a metal door. “Now shut the hell up.”

  She would’ve tripped if she’d been wearing her heels. She had to figure out how much he knew, what his plans were, and where the women were being taken. Ian wouldn’t be able to follow them.

  She doubted El Dogo would knowingly take an FBI agent to the other women. She had to break free and get the evidence her team needed. Then again, given the circumstances and Ian’s awareness of the situation, they could enter the building without a warrant.

  El Dogo opened the door and shoved her inside. He muttered a curse.

  Pain exploded across the back of her head. Everything went black.

  Naked fear gripped Ian’s spine. He’d been distracted by his worry for her and had almost missed the sound of someone approaching her. When he finally picked up on it, the second heartbeat, the pounding reverberation of a snare drum, jerked him back to the last time he’d seen, rather heard, his father.

  Ian had stepped into his parents’ living room to wait for his mom. His father was in the kitchen on the phone. “They’re not giving up the information. It’s going to take more drastic measures.”

  Nothing good ever came from his father employing “more drastic measures”. He tended to resort to his Army Ranger days and entertain solutions that included someone’s death.

  “That’s not going to work this time.”

  Ian could focus and listen to whoever was on the other end of the line, probably Eli aka Enigma. It was too much of an invasion of his father’s privacy, and he’d accepted long ago that he and his family were safer not knowing the details of his father’s assignments.

  “Listen, I have to go. Lily’s going to be back soon.” His father’s heart pounded anxiously. “If anything happens, keep an eye on everyone. It could hit Lily the hardest.”

  Ian never found out what his father had been planning, but soon after that call he’d vanished. Eli had stuck close to the family until he knew Ian’s mother would hold it together. Anytime she’d voiced concerns about Mick’s possible death, he’d simply told her to have faith.

  Ian snapped back to the present. His father’s heart had pounded then as it had when he’d approached Kieralyn. Now, he couldn’t hear either of them.

  “Kieralyn?” Answer me, damn you. Say something. Anything. “Where’s he taking you?”

  A nails-scraping-on-chalkboard chill, intensified a thousand times, raced through him. Crashing waves in the ocean drowned out all sounds, erasing the possibility of pinpointing anything that could help Kieralyn.

  His father was involved. He’d known that. He hadn’t expected his father to take Kieralyn. But did it mean that he’d gone fully to the other side, or had he somehow been trying to protect her?

  A car pulled to a stop, but he couldn’t judge where. What was going on with his senses? His hearing?

  “Kieralyn, talk to me.” Damn it. He shouldn’t have gotten distracted with memories. For that matter, he should have focused more closely on the surroundings than he had on Kieralyn. “Where are you? What’s going on?”

  “That’s what we’d like to know,” a man said from outside the car.

  Ian jumped and instantly determined that four men stood outside the car on the driver’s side. Kieralyn wasn’t responding, he figured he was about to face down her team, but couldn’t know for certain. And his dad was inside the club. He needed to get his shit together.

  Shaking his head clear, he exited the car and turned toward the men. “Who are you?”

  “Where’s Kieralyn?”

  She’d said her team wouldn’t be long. Still, he’d learned a lot from his dad and Eli. Caution was one of them. The men standing around could be more of the group trafficking women, though he doubted it. El Dogo or Isaacs could’ve found her earpiece and destroyed it. “I’m going to need an answer first.”

  “I’m Breck.” The man’s cotton shirt shifted as if he pointed at someone. His heart made a sort of whooshing sound. Reliable and steady like the waves lapping at the shore. “This is Aidan, Liam and Tyler. We’re her team.”

  “Where is she?” one of them asked. His heart beat faster than the others, with a pulsing energy.

  “You’re going to have to help me out with which of you is which.” Ian tapped his right eye. “I’m blind.”

  “You’re…no one…” Breck’s teeth ground together. “She neglected to mention that.”

  Another of the men cursed.

  “How were you supposed to be any help to her?” The questioner’s heart clipped along almost erratically.

  “I’m not exactly helpless or useless.”

  “Chill, Tyler.” Breck seemed to be the leader. “It’s not like we can control Kieralyn.”

  As if anyone could. Well, except in bed. Ian jerked his mind back to the moment. Besides, he didn’t want to think about another man in bed with her.

  He pointed across the street to the club, taking Kieralyn’s omission to his lack of sight as a sign that she didn’t see his sight as important. “She went to disable their van. She had her weapon and a comm device on, but I’m not picking anything up now.”

  “I’m Liam.” A slight Scottish burr thickened his gravelly voice. He spoke the way his heartbeat sounded, as if he worked to leash the energy. “You should have made her wait for us.”

  “Ha.” Ian started to laugh at them, to blast them with the truth that Kieralyn was a capable agent who’d tracked down the leads that had brought them all to this club where she and a group of kidnapped women were being held inside. Then he realized why Kieralyn thought her team didn’t respect her.

  None of them had bashed her, badmouthed her abilities or degraded her. They hadn’t behaved as if they thought she’d screw up. They worried about her—like he did for his sister. Their need to protect her rivaled her need to be independent. To her, they were antagonistic or chauvinistic. To them, they were looking out for her.

  “She took every precaution. We have ears on two of the men inside, the two who attacked us at my place last night. We know their movements. She was armed and the comm device she wore allowed us to communicate.”

  “You were attacked?” Aidan, the one with the fastest heart rate who stood the farthest to the right, bellowed. “Why the hell didn’t we know this? Was she hurt? What’s with her not telling us this shit?”

  “Last night. Late. She knocked one of the two out cold. As for not telling you…” Yep, definitely the big brother routine. How could she not see it? Was it really his place to give them a clue? “Well, she has the impression that you guys don’t value her as a member of the team. That she needs to prove herself at every turn.”

  “That’s Aidan,” Liam said. “Her idea is bullshit, which we’ll deal with later. How long ago did you lose contact with her?”

  “Just a few minutes ago. I warned her that someone was coming, but too late for her to hide.” Ian cocked his head. “You and Aidan are related. Twins?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How’d you know that?” Aidan asked.

  “Your heartbeats are almost identical.” Though Aidan didn’t seem to work as hard for control as Liam.

  “This is all very fascinating.” Anxiety pinched Tyler’s voice. “But we have a teammate who needs our help.”

  “Ian, you said you have ears on two of the men.”

  “Yes.” He leaned into the car and grabbed the pocket PC he’d brought along. He tossed it over the car toward Breck, who caught it neatly judging by the slight slap of hard plastic against skin. “It’s muted. Just press the speaker icon and you’ll hear them if they’re talking.”

  Aidan cleared his throat. “Is that like a sonar thing, Batman?”

  Ian grinned and shrugged as he rounded the car to stand with the men. Anyone watching hopefully wouldn’t see them as more than a group of guys shooting the breeze. Unless they recognized Ian. “Sort of.”

  Breck pressed the sound button. />
  The metallic striking of a lighter flint came through the small speaker. “One of these days you’re going to do some damage with that thing.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  Great. They were dealing with a pyro.

  “That’s Danielson and Sanders,” Ian told Kieralyn’s team. “They’re the ones who are wired.”

  “Do we want to know how you managed that without them knowing?” Tyler stepped to his left and leaned against the hood.

  “You’d have to see it to believe it.”

  “Sanders! Is the van ready?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “That’s Isaacs,” Ian identified for the team. “It sounds like they’re in the main part of the club. Near the end of the bar by the hall leading to the office, kitchen and restrooms.”

  “El Dogo is inspecting the women. We’ll be moving them out in five.”

  Ian’s jaw tensed as a flash of rage washed over him. His father had answers to provide. If he was still on the good side and knew what was going down he should’ve found a way to reach out for backup. No one was lingering in the area. And damn it, he’d done something to Kieralyn. But what? Isaacs didn’t act like he knew about her.

  “Then I’m going to torch the place.” Danielson laughed.

  Four sets of teeth ground around him. “You know your way around the club, Ian?”

  He nodded to Breck. “Yeah.”

  “You’re going in with us.”

  A gunshot reverberated off the walls inside the club. “Son of a bitch!” Isaacs yelled, but who’d been shot? Who’d done the shooting?

  Kieralyn’s team shuffled. Four weapons were cocked and primed.

  Liam stepped forward and tapped Ian’s shoulder. “With me. Stay close.”

  “Head toward the back for the most direct route.” Tracking the men around him by their sounds, allowing them to be his armed shields, he kept pace. “There should be a door about fifteen feet down. Sanders used that one earlier.”

  As they went, he gave them the layout of the club as he knew it. He’d been too distracted with Kieralyn to pay attention to the interior sounds when Sanders had opened the door, but he suspected it would take them into the hallway. “They may be at the end of the hall when we go in. Or they could be about fifteen feet inside where I think the door to a hidden room is.”

  “Seriously, dude,” Tyler put in. “You’re going to have to tell us your secrets when we’re finished here.”

  “Sure. Just do me a favor. If you have to shoot a man who looks anything like me, shoot to wound, not kill.” They all stopped. He knew they’d turned to look at him, as if they had time for this shit in the middle of broad daylight. “He’s my father, I think he’s undercover, and I want answers. Kieralyn or I will fill you in on the rest when we all get out of here.”

  “Stay behind us unless you can dodge bullets,” Breck ordered.

  “Sorry ’bout that.” El Dogo’s voice cracked through the speaker Breck still held. “That reporter was getting mouthy.”

  Son of a bitch! Ian stumbled and then surged forward. Screw caution. A woman had just lost her life. Kieralyn was going to be heartbroken when she learned about Lana. Ian would personally see to it that his father shared her agony.

  “Whoa!” Aidan grabbed Ian and blocked his path. “You aren’t flying in there, well blind, and getting yourself killed.”

  “That bastard is mine.”

  “Fine, but on our orders.”

  “Fine.” Ian jerked free of Aidan. His jaw clenched with suppressed rage.

  They proceeded to the door. Tyler and Aidan took the low positions. Breck and Liam took high, just behind Tyler and Aidan. From the sounds of it, they’d move into the door all at once. Four weapons trained and ready to fire.

  Was he occupying the spot they assigned to Kieralyn? Even blind and unarmed, he understood her frustration if he was. She would want to be in the middle of the action, not shielded from it.

  One of them grabbed the door knob and twisted it slowly. The latch clicked almost inaudibly. “Three. Two. Go.”

  The door swung open. Rushing feet thundered.

  “FBI!” Gunshots ricocheted. A door creaked. Isaacs, Danielson and Sanders shouted.

  Women screamed from within the secret room. The door was cracked partially open.

  Sanders and Isaacs turned and fled toward the main part of the club.

  A lighter flint scraped. The stench of gasoline assaulted his nose an instant before the hiss of fabric catching fire arrested his attention. A kitchen door creaked as it swung open. Glass rolled across the tile floor.

  One of Kieralyn’s team popped off another shot. Whatever Danielson had lit caught fire in the kitchen. Danielson fell to the floor. His heart stopped.

  Shit. She had to know her team had moved in. Unless she was unconscious. Shit.

  Tyler and Aidan went after Sanders and Isaacs. More shots rang out as they demanded Isaacs and Sanders put their weapons down. More gunshots volleyed.

  The hissing pop of flames lapping at the walls held Ian frozen. His heart raced, pounding louder than ten drum lines at a high school football game and drowning out everything. He had to save Kieralyn.

  A gun cocked to his left. Breck and Liam spun in that direction. “Freeze, asshole.”

  El Dogo. Ian’s blood boiled. He pivoted toward his father and charged him with an animalistic war cry ripping at his throat. The shift of metal in his father’s hand had him reaching out to knock the weapon away. Ian grabbed him by the throat. “Where is she?”

  With the strength of momentum, Ian forced his father back and shoved him against the wall.

  “Who?” His father struggled and jerked his head back and forth. He clawed at Ian’s fingers on his throat.

  “Agents, check on the women. See if Kieralyn’s with them.” Something told him she wasn’t.

  Flames lapped up the walls, quickly consuming the place. Heat licked at Ian’s arms, singeing the hair, shrinking his skin. He struggled to stay in the present …to not revert back to the scared kid trapped in a burning house. Smoke roiled and sucked the moisture from the air. Breathing would not be an option much longer.

  Breck and Liam moved toward the hidden room.

  El Dogo jerked his head and made choking sounds.

  “We’ve got these bastards.” Tyler and Aidan hustled back into the hall dragging two bodies—Isaacs and Sanders, based on everyone’s locations.

  “Hold him, Ian,” Breck commanded as he came through the door of the room with the five sobbing women. Kieralyn wasn’t one of them, judging from heartbeats. Where was Liam? “Tyler, Aidan, take those assholes outside. Tie them up, knock them out, I don’t give a shit, but I want them controlled.”

  Liam came through the door carrying a woman whose heartbeat and choppy breathing were her only movements. Not Kieralyn. Lana? Had she not been killed?

  “Beckett!” Ian tightened his grip on his father’s throat. The building was burning down, and Kieralyn wasn’t with the other women. His father had seen to that. “Where is she?”

  El Dogo clawed at Ian’s hand gripping his throat. Ian loosened up enough to allow the bastard to speak. “K-kitchen.”

  Of course she was in the kitchen. Near the fire. Fuck.

  “Breck!” He couldn’t let his dad go, but neither could he leave Kieralyn alone.

  “Here!” Breck raced back into the hallway.

  “Take this son of a bitch.” Ian shoved his father at Breck.

  “You can’t save her alone.”

  “The hell I can’t.” He darted toward the kitchen and Kieralyn. He’d pick up the pieces of his shattered heart later. “She needs me.”

  Like the song that had been playing last night when they’d made love said, their darkest hour had struck. He hoped like hell that Kieralyn would wait for him to get to her.

  He pushed through the doors, toward the heart of the fire. The paint on the walls bubbled and cracked. Glass in the pictures fractured and shattered. Blazing
heat surrounded Ian as if he’d walked into an inferno. He hesitated. Didn’t hear her heartbeat.

  “Kieralyn!” Ducking his head, he worked his way through the kitchen. Flames licked at him. Smoke smacked him in the face. He covered his mouth and nose with his T-shirt. “Where are you?”

  Nothing. He couldn’t make out her heartbeat or anything else above the din of the fire. Panic set in and threatened to carry him back to his childhood. His heart raced—nearly obliterating his working senses. No! I’ve done this before. I can do it again.

  He shook his head and focused his senses. She was in here. Somewhere. “Kieralyn! Damn you, woman! Answer me!”

  Thump.

  “Kieralyn?”

  Thump. Thump.

  There. To the right. He moved slowly, unfamiliar with the layout of the kitchen. Leading with his feet so he didn’t burn his hands, he felt for obstacles. “Kieralyn, come on. Talk to me, baby. Where are you?”

  He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose the woman he loved.

  Thump. “Ian?”

  Yes! She sounded weak, but alive. He could work with that. Hurrying toward her, he tripped over something that had fallen onto the floor. Sprawled on his hands and knees, he could breathe a little easier in the thinner air.

  “Kieralyn. Talk to me.”

  She coughed. Two feet ahead.

  He crawled forward. His hand brushed against her shoe. Rushing, he grabbed her and pulled her to him. Her heart beat timidly. Her breaths were more like gasps. He slid his hands over her quickly to check for injuries. A bump on the head seemed to be the worst of it. Physically anyway. Smoke inhalation was a different story.

  “Come on, love. We have to get you out of here.” He eased up until he was standing with her clutched against him. Stooping a little, he slid an arm behind her knees and picked her up. She buried her face into his chest. He turned to go back the way he’d come.

  Wood groaned. Something that sounded like a beam crashed to the floor. Flames formed a solid wall. They were trapped. Shit!

  Where was her team when he really needed them? How in hell was he supposed to get her out of this?