Behind the Lies (A Montgomery Justice Novel)

by Perini, Robin

Then silence.

  Bobby curled into a ball. Alone.

  “Mommy. I’m sorry I told him,” he whispered.

  Brad’s horror still filled his head, screams banging through his skull. His father. Farzam. Brad shook his head to force away the past—a past he’d worked so long to bury. A past that had roared back. A past that he’d repeated with his son.

  “Silence!” Farzam dug into Sam’s arm, then slapped him across the face. “Be silent and look at the camera, boy. Or I kill your mother.”

  Sam went completely still.

  Brad’s nails bit into his palm. His heart racing, his own bloody, tearstained features superimposed on his son’s ravaged face.

  Nausea rose in Brad’s throat.

  “Tell Zach Montgomery,” Farzam spat, twisting Sam’s arm. “Tell him you want his help.”

  “P…please, D…D…Dark Avenger. Save us.”

  The camera went dark.

  Brad grunted and glared at his captors. He rocked the chair back and forth.

  Zach whirled on him, then his eyes widened. He stalked over to Brad and ripped off the duct tape. “You better be making noise over something important.”

  “I know where that bastard is,” Brad spat, “and I want him dead.”

  * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  * * *

  GABE’S KITCHEN WENT silent.

  “Dear God,” Jazz whispered though a strangled voice, speaking the words with the choked sob Zach couldn’t afford. She reached out for Luke’s hand.

  Seth and Gabe erupted with a string of curses through gritted teeth.

  Zach didn’t know about his brothers, but he couldn’t wipe the image of Jenna’s bruised face or Sam’s stark terror out of his mind. Yet he couldn’t let his heart linger on anything but resolve to have them both in his arms again. They didn’t need the man who loved them, they needed a warrior.

  He grabbed Brad and squeezed the bastard’s windpipe. Fury like Zach had never known exploded. “Tell me where they are, you son of a bitch, or die now. We’re done with games.” He squeezed tighter.

  Brad gasped, blinking, sucking in puffs of air. “Safe house. I know the location. I was ordered to kill Farzam.”

  He released the assassin and shoved him hard against the chair. “So help me, Walters, if this is a trick to save your sorry hide, I’ll kill you now and won’t ever regret it.”

  “Sam is my son,” Brad choked. “I have to save him.”

  “And I’m supposed to trust you?” Zach leaned over Brad, placing his hand strategically across his throat. The Chameleon’s eyes widened. He had to know one flick of Zach’s wrist would end his life. “You helped your son a lot when you beat his mother.”

  Brad paled, then cursed. “We don’t have time for bullshit. They gave me the coordinates for Farzam so I could kill him. It’s in that ten square miles you pointed out on the map. Do you want to save my son or not?”

  Zach didn’t move. Brad didn’t shrink away. The idiot. Zach’s hand twitched. Brad had no idea how close Zach was to—

  But the bastard was right. There was no time. “Give me the address.”

  “I’m not a fool.” Brad shook his head. “My contract’s been broken. I’m dead anyway. I know too much. Take me with you. I’ll help you save Sam and Jenna, then let me disappear. I won’t contact you again.”

  “Dream on. If you help us find Jenna and Sam, and if they’re…” He couldn’t say alive. If they were alive. No. He refused to consider the possibility aloud. “I might put in a good word with the federal prosecutors. That’s as far as I’ll go. But…I will save your son.”

  Brad stared at Zach for several seconds.

  “Take your time, asshole,” Zach bit out. “You say you care about your son. Then why are you even hesitating?”

  “Agreed. Once Sam is safe, I plan to stay alive…and free.”

  Zach’s gaze burned into his brother Seth. “He so much as twitches in the wrong direction, end it. Get him in the car.”

  Seth gave a quick nod.

  “If anyone wants out—?” Zach began.

  “Shut up,” Gabe muttered. “Just shut the hell up, Zach. We’re all in.”

  At that moment, Jazz’s beeper went off. She cursed and stared at the message. “There’s a hostage situation at a day care center.” She bit her lip, clearly torn.

  “Go,” Zach said. As much as he admired Jazz’s skills, he didn’t want the love of Luke’s life anywhere near Brad or Farzam. This fight would be up close and personal. “Those kids need you.”

  Luke looked at Zach, and he knew he’d done right. Relief flared in Luke’s eyes. He gave Zach a slight nod then cupped his wife’s cheek. He twisted the strand of long blonde hair that had pulled away from her French braid. “Just be careful. We can handle this. Four against two.”

  Jazz gave Zach, Seth, and Gabe a stern stare. “Find that little boy and his mother, but I’m warning you. If my husband returns with one scratch, I’ll come after you. And I’m handy with more than just my rifle.”

  She gave them a nod and raced out of the house, leaving Zach and his brothers facing each other. Zach could barely breathe. He hadn’t been there for them in five years, and they’d stepped in. Just like his father would have. They accepted the challenge; they accepted him. How could he have doubted them—but he knew his own guilt had driven his actions. He’d hurt not only himself, but his family. “Let’s move.”

  They stashed the gear into the back of the SUV then jumped into the vehicle. Seth held his Sig on a handcuffed Brad as Gabe gunned the SUV. The motor roared and the car raced through the Denver streets.

  Zach palmed his father’s 1911 and stared at Brad. He wanted to kill the bastard. He couldn’t believe he sat a few feet away from him and the man still breathed. But he’d do anything to save Jenna’s life, even make a deal with the devil.

  Brad sucked in a shuddering breath. “I loved her the only way I knew.”

  “You had a choice. We all have a choice on how we treat the people we love.”

  He stared at each of his brothers.

  Seth’s brow rose. Luke blinked in acknowledgment.

  “Damn straight,” Gabe muttered. He twisted the steering wheel. The tires barely hugged the street on the tight turn. The vehicle leapt forward.

  Zach nodded his own agreement. He hadn’t understood the truth of his words until today. His choices had been selfish, protecting himself and his emotions. He’d been afraid to love Jenna and Sam. He’d never even told them. What a fool.

  Seth grabbed Zach’s shoulder. “Glad to have you back, brother.”

  “I’m at the edge of the grid,” Gabe interrupted. “Which way?”

  “Go west of Golden, into the hills.”

  “Damn. On the very border of our grid. We would never have found them in time.”

  A beeping noise sounded in the vehicle. Luke cursed. “Link just went live again.”

  Zach stilled. The third showing of a prisoner. He met Seth’s gaze, and his brother’s eyes had gone deadly. They both knew what this could mean.

  “Open it,” Zach said, his entire body rigid. “I have to know.”

  Luke clicked the link and gasped.

  Jenna couldn’t breathe. Pain speared through her side with every small movement. He’d broken her ribs. Her arms ached, her wrists were on fire, and her hands had gone numb from the cuffs.

  Blood streamed down her face, warm against her cold skin.

  She couldn’t see, but she heard Sam’s quiet sobs.

  “Silence!” her captor yelled. “You shame yourself.”

  A sharp slap sounded and Sam cried out.

  She struggled but couldn’t help her son.

  A door slammed opened, then closed, leaving her doused in the dark. Oh, God, had he taken Sam?

  A small whimper brought her heart back to life.

  “Mommy?” Sam whispered. “Can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” she said through swollen lips.

  “The man lef
t,” Sam cried. “I’m scared. I want Zach.”

  “Me too, baby. Can you run away?”

  “I’m tied up.”

  Jenna shifted her hands and the cuffs clinked together. If only she could get at the lock, she might—

  The paperclip. The one from her father’s file. She’d shoved it in her pants. Her father’s lies might come in handy after all.

  She bent her wrists, working to reach her back pocket. She bit her lip against the agony.

  “Mommy?”

  “Quiet, honey.”

  Success.

  She dug into the jeans. She felt for the small bit of metal and used her fingernail to scrape it closer. Seconds later, she grasped it in her hand. She bent the metal and went to work on the lock. She had no idea how much time she had.

  “Come on, come on.” Every lesson from her life on the streets after her father had left her returned in a rush. The lock clicked. Her hand slipped free. Jenna let out a sob. Should she thank her father for letting her fend for herself? If it saved her son, no question. Yes.

  She worked the ropes free from her legs and staggered over to Sam, feeling her way around the ties. He latched onto her. “He hit you, Mommy. I couldn’t stop him. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault, baby. He’s a bad man.”

  Jenna kissed Sam’s cheek. “We have to hurry.”

  She took his hand and stumbled to the door, trying desperately not to cry out. She grabbed the latch, but before she could open it, Farzam pushed in.

  His eyes widened, then narrowed in fury. “I will kill you.”

  Jenna’s heart raced. She folded her hand at the second knuckle. She could do this. One blow to the throat.

  “You’re bad,” Sam yelled. He slugged the guy in the crotch. Farzam doubled over. Jenna struck, but the terrorist knocked her off balance and they crashed to the ground. The man clutched her throat, squeezing.

  “Run. Get help,” she gasped.

  Sam didn’t hesitate—just like Zach had taught him. He raced out the door.

  She sagged with relief. Thank God.

  Her captor dragged her to her feet. “Your son doesn’t matter. All I want is Zane Morgan. We finish this now,” Farzam said. He shoved her into the chair and secured a rope tight around her bloody wrists down to her ankles. “You won’t get away this time,”

  She moaned, tears burned her eyes, but she didn’t care. Sam was free.

  With an evil smile Farzam picked up the bent paperclip. “You’re more worthy a warrior than I expected an American woman to be, but this will soon be over. Your fate is decided. You wish to say a last prayer?”

  Jenna sucked in a deep breath, not resigned, never resigned. She’d fight until her heart stopped beating and her lungs stopped breathing. She’d learned one thing from Zach. There was always a way. She gritted her teeth and tested her wrists through the pain. With Sam out of this hell, she could take the risk. She would take the risk, because unlike before, she had Zach to back her up. No matter what happened to her, Sam had escaped. Zach would take care of her son. She had faith in Zach Montgomery. He loved Sam. He would protect him.

  He would find her.

  “You might want to save yourself. Zach will come after you,” Jenna taunted. “Whether I’m dead or not.”

  Farzam smiled. “Yes. He will. I want him to. Zane Morgan will pay for his crimes today.”

  Several clicks sounded. The video camera whirred.

  “You will give him your last words. Speak.”

  “It’s a trap,” she screamed. “Save Sam.”

  The man slapped her face. Hard. She couldn’t stop the cry.

  Metal pressed against her temple.

  “She’s dead, Montgomery. An eye for an eye.”

  The camera went dark.

  “How far are we?” Zach asked, leaning forward, studying the streetlights that whizzed past the vehicle.

  A beep sounded from the laptop. Luke snatched it. “Got him,” his brother said. “Two blocks down.” He glared at Brad. “That’s a half mile away from where you told us.”

  Zach pointed his 1911 at the assassin’s temple.

  “Don’t believe the signal,” Brad said. “It’s a decoy.”

  Zach met Luke’s gaze and could see the uncertainty in his brother’s eyes. Zach knew it was his call.

  “We’re one block away from the triangulated position,” Gabe added, from the driver’s seat. “Where do I go?”

  “How far from Walters’s location?”

  “Two minutes.”

  “My son could be dead in two minutes,” Brad spat. “Trust me. You guys think I’d lie to you with Sam’s life at stake?”

  Zach’s gut twisted. “If you’re wrong, Walters—”

  “I’m dead. I know, but so is my son.” Brad glared at Gabe. “Don’t stop. I’m telling you, I’m right.”

  The beeping grew louder. They passed an abandoned house. The windows looked very similar to the video. Nausea rose within Zach. If he was wrong, Jenna and Sam could pay the ultimate price.

  He couldn’t lose them, not like this. Not because of his choices, his decisions, his life.

  Thirty seconds.

  One minute.

  The only sound within the car were magazines snapping into Seth’s Sig and Luke’s Glock. Zach checked his father’s 1911. The .45 caliber had never let him down. Help me, Dad. He sent up a silent prayer. Help me save them.

  Ninety seconds.

  The tires squealed as Gabe rounded the corner.

  “We’re one block away,” Luke said.

  “Pull over, out of sight,” Zach ordered.

  In seconds, Gabe maneuvered the car behind a group of pines trees.

  Zach turned to Brad. “You’re staying here.”

  “I can help. I’m better than good with a weapon.”

  Zach ignored him. “Seth, Luke, cuff each hand to a different door, then zip-tie his ankles apart. Make it quick.”

  In seconds the brothers had Brad spread-eagled in the backseat.

  “You’ll die for this.”

  “Heard that before,” Zach said, and closed the door on the assassin, flicking the key fob to lock the vehicle. “Let’s move.”

  The four of them peered through the trees at the foreclosed house, its windows boarded up.

  “You want Farzam alive?” Seth asked. “For interrogation?”

  Zach’s expression went cold. “I don’t give a shit as long as Jenna and Sam get out alive. Do what you have to.” With a scan of the layout, Zach let out a stream of air. The plan could work. “Seth, you and Gabe round to the back. Grab whoever’s the closest—Jenna or Sam. Luke and I will hit the front and do the same.”

  “No way,” Seth shook his head. “Farzam wants you dead.”

  “If—” Zach’s throat choked. “If Sam and Jenna are still alive, he wants me to watch them die. Otherwise he wouldn’t have hurt them the way he did. Besides, he hates me the most. I go in the front. I’m the distraction.” Zach grabbed Seth’s collar. “You make sure they stay alive. I won’t let anyone else die because of me. You understand?”

  “None of us is dying today,” Luke said quietly. “Mom would be really pissed.”

  A small smile tugged at the corner of Zach’s mouth. “That she would.” His smile faded. “Let’s do this.”

  Brad couldn’t hear or see a thing after the Montgomerys filtered through the trees. He tugged against the restraints. Damn them. They’d beat him. He had no more tricks. He peered through the front window, but he couldn’t see the house. Dark pressed in around the car. He hated the dark.

  Bobby buried his face under his arms. He shook. Too quiet out there. Mommy wasn’t even crying now.

  Quickly, he wiped his tears away. He couldn’t let Daddy see them.

  The closet door slammed open. Bright light blinded him. He closed his eyes and shrank from the opening.

  His father grabbed Bobby’s injured arm. He couldn’t stop the whimper.

  “Weakling,” his father grow
led. “Get out here.”

  His mother lay crumpled in the corner, unmoving.

  “Mommy!”

  “Leave her,” his father ordered. “We’re out of here.”

  “But I have to help her,” Bobby pleaded.

  His father backhanded his cheek. Bobby crashed to the ground.

  His mother still didn’t move.

  “You weren’t man enough to help her. Weak, pathetic little bastard. You’re probably not even mine. You don’t want to go? Fine. Stay in the dark.”

  He kicked Bobby, then shoved him into the closet and slammed the door closed. The lock turned.

  Through the cheap pine he thought he heard a very faint groan.

  “Mommy!” Bobby banged on the door. “I’ll get out. I’ll help you.”

  Brad stared in the darkness. He’d failed that day. Just like he’d failed his son.

  A shadowy figure appeared at the door. He heard several clicks, then the car door swung open.

  Theresa Banyon shook her head in disappointment. “Damn it, Walters. I set them up. Do I have to shoot them for you, too?”

  Brad looked at the face of the woman who had pulled his strings the last few years. He recognized the cold eyes. She was a mirror of his soul. “I can turn this around, Theresa. I’ll finish the job for you. Just let me loose and give me time to get my son.”

  “This is your last chance. Kill everyone else and you can take your brat and leave.”

  He would kill everyone in that house if it meant having his son. “I’ll succeed this time. I’ll even finish Garrison off when I’m done.”

  Theresa weighed a familiar and deadly device in her hand. Brad knew the weapon’s power—and its impact. The heat created from the unique explosion burned so hot, the trace evidence was useless, but just like its creator, the bomb was vicious and unpredictable. He’d used it in Stockholm, and the stupid thing had almost killed him.

  Crap. She really had gone over the edge if she’d produced more of the unstable explosive.

  She smiled. “I’m a forgiving woman.” She tugged out a knife and slid it into his palm, then stood back, a gun on him. “Consider this a life-or-death test, because if you fail again, you and your son die tonight.”