by Katie Reus
Next he slid out a nine-inch steel sharpener. Long, cylindrical, and in the right—or wrong—hands, it could be used as an effective, painful weapon.
Cole laughed, the sound pure evil and, if Tucker hadn’t known him, a little terrifying. “I can think of a perfect place to shove that.”
“What the hell do you guys want with me?” Vane asked, his voice and entire body shaking, clearly understanding Cole’s intent. The man’s reaction was pathetic.
Tucker knew that once upon a time the half-naked man in front of them had wanted to be part of their elite group. Max had denied him. Now it was clear why. He’d have failed the training. The truth was, pretty much everyone caved under torture, but this asshole wasn’t even trying to fake being brave. He was letting his fear win. Pathetic.
Instead of answering, Tucker took the steel sharpener and held the dull edge against one finger while holding the handled end in his other hand. He didn’t bother looking at Vane, just eyed the cutlery with interest. “Yesterday morning Cole and I kidnapped a woman.” Now he met the dirty DEA agent’s gaze.
It was full of fear and loathing. Vane didn’t speak, though, just stared and shook. God, the shaking was going to make Tucker nauseated.
“She had no training against men like us and was still braver than you.” The truth was in Tucker’s eyes, he knew.
During his years of training he’d learned various interrogation techniques. Torture sometimes worked, but it was a fifty-fifty thing. The human brain reached a point where you’d confess to anything to make the pain stop. Forming a bond with the subject also worked well, but that took a lot of time in most cases. Time was the one thing they didn’t have. Today Tucker was going to go with the truth. Lay everything out and give Vane his options. None were particularly good, but there were always lesser degrees of consequences. “You’re fucking weak. You know it. I know it. It’s why Max passed you up time and again and why you keep getting passed up for promotions.”
Vane’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes flaring with rage, but he didn’t respond.
“Some things I could understand, like, say, taking a few kickbacks, looking the other way for a contact. That’s no big deal.” Complete bullshit, but the words would hopefully serve his purpose. Make Vane think that they were on the same basic, criminal level. “It’s not like we get paid enough to deal with what we do on a continual basis. Especially for you. You’ve got two female bosses above you and I know that’s gotta burn.”
Vane’s lips pulled into a thin line and Tucker saw agreement in his gaze. As if he simply couldn’t hide how he felt.
Yeah, pathetic. This guy never would have lasted undercover. He’d have been dead within a week.
“But working with a man like Thad Hillenbrand against your own people?” At this point they only had a financial connection and he needed to push it.
Vane swallowed hard.
“Yeah, we know about you and Hillenbrand.”
“Who?” he rasped out, feigning ignorance.
Tucker’s lips pulled into a thin line. “Come on. Even if you’re going to deny working with the guy, don’t deny you know his name. Thad Hillenbrand of H-Brand Security?”
Vane shrugged, the action jerky. He flicked a glance at Cole, who was still standing next to him, arms crossed over his chest as he glared down. Cole was looking at the guy as if he wanted to slice his head off and was seriously thinking about doing it.
“I’ve heard the name,” Vane said.
“And?” Tucker prodded, setting down the sharpener and picking up the paring knife.
Vane stiffened, his back going ramrod straight as his gaze landed on the blade. “And what? What the hell do you guys want from me?” Vane’s voice rose now. If he started screaming they might have to gag him. Wouldn’t do for the neighbors to hear.
“I’m going to give you one chance to be honest with us.”
“But I really hope you’re not,” Cole growled, leaning down close to Vane as he spoke. “Each time you lie, I’m going to make you bleed. And I’m going to like it.”
Tucker cleared his throat, drawing Vane’s attention back to him. They needed him scared, but not too scared to talk. And off his game, which he clearly was.
“We know you’ve been working with him and we know he’s behind the missing drone.”
The truth flared in Vane’s eyes for just an instant. Good. They were on the right track.
“We know he sent guys after me, Cole, Brooks, and Kane. And we know he had Max killed.” Tucker had to bite back his rage at the thought of Max. Damn it, he hadn’t even been able to contact Mary, to see how she was doing with all this. God, she probably thought they were all traitors. Tucker shelved that thought, reminding himself they’d be able to see her once they’d found Max’s killer. “And we know you’re working for him.”
When Vane started to protest, Tucker moved lightning fast, covering the distance between them in seconds until he was crouching down in front of Vane. He slammed the knife down on the chair, right between the man’s splayed thighs, through the edge of the towel and dangerously close to the guy’s junk.
Vane jumped, shouting in alarm as he tried to scoot back. There was nowhere to go.
Tucker tamped down the rage boiling inside him. “This isn’t going to be a case of good cop, bad cop. You will get no reprieve from us if you lie. So I’m going to remind you again. Do. Not. Lie.” Tucker didn’t move, remaining where he was, up in Vane’s face. He could judge the dilation of his eyes better in this position anyway.
“So, where was I . . .? Right, that fucker you work with tried to have us killed. That’s something none of my boys take kindly to.” He kept the edge in his voice, was barely restraining himself being so damn close to Vane, knowing he could have had a hand in Max’s death or even sending the hitter after him and Karen. He had to completely block out thoughts of her or he was going to lose it.
“I didn’t know he was going to kill Max,” Vane whispered.
A complete and utter fucking lie. Tucker saw it in his face. For a moment he contemplated letting it go, but he couldn’t. Instead he sighed. “What did I tell you?”
Tucker didn’t have to move or even signal to Cole. Cole slammed his blade right through Vane’s hand, between the metacarpals.
Vane’s whole body jerked. He gasped, his eyes going wide, and opened his mouth to scream.
Tucker slammed his gloved hand over Vane’s mouth, getting right up in his face as he made garbled moaning sounds and twisted against the restraining hand. “I told you not to lie. And you’re lucky you’re not dead. Lucky. Think about that, let that stew in that little brain of yours. Why aren’t you dead yet, Daniel?” He used Vane’s first name intentionally. “We need you for something. If you lie to us again, we’ll kill you and find another way to get what we want. It’ll take longer, but we’ll deal with it because it’s better than dealing with a sniveling liar I have to carve up for answers. Next time you lie to me, I’m taking off your balls.” God, Tucker hated that Karen was hearing this part of him, hearing him sound like a complete monster over the comm. He hoped she understood that he was just putting on a show even as he got a certain kind of pleasure from inflicting pain on the man who’d taken his mentor from him.
As quickly as the thought entered his mind, he pushed it right back out again. He needed to keep his head in this thing. So many lives were depending on their handling this situation right. He felt as if he were walking a tightrope. If he pushed too hard, they’d break Vane. If he didn’t push hard enough and Vane called their bluff, they’d lose him.
“Nod if you understand,” Cole said quietly with just a hint of that feral quality in his voice.
Vane nodded, his eyes wide as he moaned what sounded like “yes.” His face had gone white and his lips were compressed as thick beads of sweat rolled down his cheeks and over his forehead. His body kept jerking involuntarily—from shock, Tucker knew. But Vane was still coherent. That was all that mattered.
Tucker
removed his hand from Vane’s mouth. “We’re on the same page finally. I’m going to ask some questions and you’re going to answer them. Do you know who Toby Austin is?”
Vane’s eyes flickered with surprise—maybe that Tucker knew the name—but he nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped out, his gaze flicking to where the knife was still embedded in his hand, blood trailing down the arm of the chair and onto the tile.
“Did you have anything to do with killing him?”
Vane shook his head once, as if trying to focus. He sucked in a ragged breath, clearly trying to force the words out. “He’s dead?”
“Yep. Committed suicide. But you and I both know that’s not true. In a situation like this, the man in charge cleans house near the end of an operation. I’ve seen it a dozen times and I’m guessing you have too. Are you expendable to Hillenbrand?” Tucker held up a hand. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to have to slice you up for another lie.” He glanced up at Cole, a silent signal for what he needed to do.
Cole grasped the handle of his blade and jerked it free, earning a shuddering moan from Vane. At least he wasn’t screaming. But he was breathing harder, erratically, as if he was trying to control himself even as he shook almost uncontrollably. There was no control over that, though. Guy should just let the shakes come, but Tucker didn’t care. Let him fight it. His face had gone even paler as he stared at a spot over Tucker’s shoulder. Blood continued dripping onto the kitchen floor, landing with soft little splatters.
“When did you start working with Hillenbrand?”
Vane paused, swallowing hard. “He approached me six months ago.”
“Why go after Max and the four of us?” Tucker kept his voice completely neutral as he asked the question. If he let the leash on his anger slip, he might do something he’d regret. Something he couldn’t take back.
Vane swallowed hard. “He needed someone . . . to take the fall for his plan.” The words came out in a rush, as if he was forcing himself to speak. He took another deep breath, seeming to gather himself finally even though he was still shaking. “That’s you guys. And he needed someone important like Max to die.”
No doubt Vane had suggested them up on a platter to Hillenbrand. Tucker kept his anger at bay and didn’t acknowledge that he knew it would have been Vane’s idea. “Why?”
His eyes shifted away, as if he was thinking of a lie.
Tucker grabbed his chin and yanked his face back to him. He’d get an answer. “Why?”
“Politics. Power. Hillenbrand’s got some guy working with him. Name is Osborn, works for Clarence Cochran.” When Tucker’s grip tightened, Vane tried to shake his head, failed. “I swear it. They want to start a war in Iran. If the Shiâs waged war on American soil, in D.C. no less, killing the deputy director . . .” He trailed off, swallowing again. “They want their candidate in the White House and they want him to start a war they can win. That’s what Hillenbrand spouts anyway. I know he’s more in it for the money. I don’t think he believes anyone will actually be a winner in that war. But the contracts he’ll rake in will be worth billions. And anyone with stock in the company will bank too. Osborn will make sure that Hillenbrand gets the necessary contracts if Cochran is elected. It’s a win-win for them.”
Tucker dropped his hand. He didn’t need to ask why Hillenbrand would want to spark something like that. Money was definitely the motivation. The man already had a lot of government contracts, but if they went to war with Iran, that would mean more contractors were sent overseas. Which meant a shitload of money for Hillenbrand. Especially since it wouldn’t be a short war. They never were. A decade minimum, especially with a country like Iran. They were close to having nukes now, if they didn’t already. “Cochran’s involved?” Tucker wasn’t sure he could swallow that. The guy might be a bit extreme but this was crossing a serious line.
“I don’t know for sure, but his top aide, Rayford Osborn, is definitely involved,” Vane added, face shiny with perspiration.
Tucker had no doubt Karen and everyone else on the other end of the comm were currently running the names Vane was dropping. “Was or is Hillenbrand going to tie us to the drone theft?”
He nodded, his breath sawing in and out. “Yeah. I don’t know how or when, but that’s part of his plan too.”
“Why’d he hit the International Spy Museum this morning?”
Vane stared at him, blinking once. “Hit it?”
“With the drone.”
He blinked again and shook his head vehemently. “No way. No way he would do something like that without telling me.”
Cole snorted and grabbed the back of Vane’s chair. Wordlessly he dragged him across the floor, not being gentle about it. Tucker stayed close, stopping in the living room with them. Since he had the same type of system, he turned on the flat-screen mounted on the wall. The national news would have it by this time, but he scrolled to a local news channel.
After five minutes of letting Vane watch, he switched off the TV and sat on the coffee table, facing him. Cole stood behind Vane, arms crossed over his chest, looking like a menace. Even if Vane couldn’t see him, he felt his presence, was aware of the barely leashed tiger at his back.
“I would ask you what Hillenbrand’s next target is, but it appears you’re not in the loop.”
Vane wet his lips with his tongue. “Can I get some water?”
“No,” Cole said before Tucker could respond.
“So, what was supposed to be the next target?” Tucker asked.
He wet his lips again, shifted nervously in the chair, his movement limited. The bleeding had slowed a little, but not by much. “The museum was on our list of targets, but it wasn’t supposed to happen until later. And I don’t know the exact dates or times of anything. I swear it!” His voice rose when Cole shifted slightly behind him. “He told us all that he would call meetings the night before or day of any attack. He likes being in control, the one pulling the strings. Everyone shows up when he calls.”
Tucker wanted to know who “everyone” was, but held off. He figured Burkhart would be able to get all those names out of Vane later. “Was there a meeting last night?”
“Yes, but the drone hit was never mentioned.”
“Where’s he keeping the drone?” They’d done something to the tracking system when they took it. Something incredibly sophisticated to disable it.
Vane snorted. “I have no idea. I don’t even think Osborn knows.”
Tucker hoped Karen was already running info on Osborn. If the aide to a potential presidential candidate was involved, there was no telling how far this thing went. “Where do your meetings take place?”
He paused, but sighed as he answered, “One of his places. I tried to run the information on the owner from work once and it’s not under his name.”
“Give me the address.”
Vane shook his head, his breathing erratic once again. “No. You still need me and I’m not fucking stupid. I’m not giving you everything now. I need some assurances that you’re not going to kill me.”
“Fair enough. . . .” He’d let Burkhart get that out of him. Finding that out wasn’t part of Tucker’s role in this. “Why’d you pick me and my guys to set up?” Tucker figured he knew the answer but wanted to hear it. Everything to this point was pretty damn condemning, but he wanted Vane to completely hang himself with his confession. It would be a pleasure to watch his face later when they played back all they’d recorded.
His jaw hardened, that barely concealed hatred shining through in his eyes. “Because fuck you all, that’s why.” His eyes were glassy now, his face gray. Maybe the blood loss was making him ballsy, because the statement took Tucker off guard.
Cole moved behind Vane, as if to strike him, but Tucker held up a hand. “How’d you do it? Getting our security clearances revoked would take some serious skill. And we know you laid some other groundwork to get it publicized that we’re terrorists. What we can’t figure out is how you did it.” More lies, but he wanted a co
mplete confession.
Despite being restrained to a chair with a broken nose and bleeding hand, Vane looked positively smug. “That was Max’s problem. He always underestimated me. I got your security clearance revoked. Me. No one else. Watched that bitch type her code in and that wasn’t easy,” he growled, clearly talking about Paula Jacobs. At least they knew how he’d gotten the other agent’s code now.
He snarled, continuing, as some of the color returned to his cheeks, though Tucker guessed it was just Vane’s rage. “And I laid a perfect trail to offshore bank accounts that led to you four morons!” His eyes had gone wild as he apparently dropped some of his need for self-preservation. “Not too obvious, but unless the forensics team on you guys are complete fucking morons, they’ll find it. You four always thought you were better than me. Now your lives are destroyed. Because of me!”
Tucker hauled back and slammed his fist into Vane’s nose again. He screamed, twisting and instinctively trying to move his hands to hold his nose.
Ignoring him, Tucker stood and walked out. He’d heard enough. “You get all that?” he murmured once he’d left the room.
“Every word,” Karen said. Her voice was neutral and he hated that he didn’t know what she was thinking. He worried she was disgusted by him now. Or worse, afraid of him. He wasn’t sorry for the way he’d gotten Vane to talk, but he was sorry she’d had to hear him. “A four-person team is about to enter the residence through the front door.”
“Affirmative.” Before he’d finished the word, the front door swung open.
Burkhart, Selene, Ortiz, and Freeman strode in. Vane was going to be beyond pissed when he learned that everything he’d said had been recorded. Would it legally stand up in court? It didn’t matter at this point. Vane was screwed and would be facing serious jail time one way or another.
The fact that Burkhart was here would show Vane how deep a hole he was going to be thrown into. Burkhart would act as a lifeline of sorts. He was the only one able to actually negotiate with Vane as far as a lesser sentence went. How much Vane cooperated from this point forward would go a long way in how things went down for him. If he helped them capture Hillenbrand along with whoever else was working with them, Burkhart would “help” him get a plea deal.