Destruction (Out for Justice Book 4)

by Reese Knightley

  “That could work. Then we can arrest them on the spot,” Rush said.

  Noah was already shaking his head. “Any number of Vladimir’s men could have seen your face in the video recorded of Austin’s birthday party at the Cobalt estate.”

  Phoenix had attended a party together and one of the staff had filmed the unit and given the recording to Vladimir. That was how Vladimir had found out about Roscoe, which had resulted in the attack on Roscoe’s family.

  “I wasn’t at the party. I couldn’t make it,” Storm said.

  “And I was late and not in that video.” Allison glanced from the window over at Noah.

  Her phone buzzed and she jumped up and went to open the door.

  “Hello family!” Seth said, coming through the door laughing at their surprised expressions.

  Frost stepped through the door, juggling boxes.

  “What the hell are you all doing here?” Micah asked and pulled Seth into a tight hug.

  “We’re on assignment, you?” his friend teased with a smile.

  “Anybody for donuts?” Frost announced, setting two boxes of donuts onto the table. Behind the man trailed Reggie carrying a carton of ready-made coffee and a large rollaway suitcase.

  “I get first dibs! I had to smell them on the way over!” Wild skated through the door after the others, eased around the crowd in the doorway, dropped a large duffle bag to the floor with a thunk, and eagerly rubbed his hands together.

  “Hey!” Noah played elbow hockey with Wild at the table as they wrestled for donuts.

  “Bottomless pit,” Storm grumbled and headed for Wild. After a long hug with his lover, the sniper reached for an empty cup.

  Noah grinned and took a big bite of the sweet treat before wandering away.

  “I can eat anything I want and never gain a pound,” Wild smirked.

  “Lucky.” Allison shoved Wild playfully.

  “I know, right? I mean, damn, this is perfection.” Wild waived a hand down his physique.

  “Give us a break,” Storm huffed, but brushed a kiss on Wild’s temple before reaching past him to fill his empty cup with coffee.

  Alex snorted and Micah shared a slight smile with the man before turning back to the widow.

  “Let’s devise a plan,” Roscoe said, coming through the door pulling a rollaway bag.

  Micah lowered his binoculars; the hotel sat quiet. They might as well use this time to come up with a plan. He turned back to the room.

  Wild took a big bite of white powdered donut and licked his lips.

  “How can I resist that,” Roscoe murmured and dropped a brief kiss on the man’s lips. Their boss smacked his lips and licked white powder from his mouth before striding farther into the room.

  “That’s all I get?” Wild pouted.

  “Behave,” Storm growled.

  Noah and Allison laughed when Wild made a pouty face.

  “Damn,” Micah said with a snort. “Sounds like old times.”

  “Of course,” Seth winked, “what’s an ops if half the team is missing?”

  “How’d it go in Beverly Hills?” he asked Roscoe, approaching the man.

  “Mac and Jake, along with a team of agents, went down with us,” Roscoe said, lifting his case onto the couch and taking out his laptop. “The standoff lasted long enough for us to get down there. By the time we arrived, local law enforcement had everything pretty much cleaned up. We questioned the suspects, but they were low level thugs and couldn’t give us much to go on other than Gashi wasn’t there. I showed them Caleb’s picture but none of them recognized the boy.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “Of course.” Roscoe nodded. “We figured we’d come here and help out and let the Marshals and FBI finish collecting any evidence.”

  “Save some for the rest of us,” Storm said, swatting Wild’s hand away from the donuts and plucking one up for himself.

  Several people in the room chuckled at the pair.

  “Petrov has been at the hotel for three days. Gashi wasn’t in Beverly Hills because supposedly he’s here with Petrov. So far, we haven’t seen him at all,” Micah told them.

  “Storm came up with a plan,” Alex said.

  “Oh?” Roscoe glanced up. “What’s that?”

  One week later

  Alex

  Standing by his car, he looked at the house for several minutes before moving up along the edge of the driveway. The place was secluded, sitting back in the woods miles from the nearest neighbor.

  Through the gathering dusk, he ran his gaze over the home that according to Wolf had housed a human trafficking ring for a short time.

  From this distance, the front porch and one inside light were on.

  Something caught his eye and he spun, pulled his Glock, and then stood perfectly still in the shadow the edge of the driveway afforded. A rabbit darted from the brush and hopped across the driveway and into the trees. He cocked his head, listening after the rabbit’s rustling faded. The only sound was that of crickets and a few night birds.

  Cautiously entering the house, he eased down a hallway. Clear signs showed the house had been a brothel. He canvased and cleared each room before the sudden smell of charred bodies wafted through the air from one of the last rooms to check. Fuck.

  The door swung open beneath his palm and he stepped inside. Two bodies lay burned. Several fire extinguishers lay scattered about.

  He tugged his phone from his pocket and dialed Wolf.

  “How did you find out about this house?” Alex asked.

  “I told you I’d call someone,” Wolf replied.

  “Two burned bodies, male and female,” he murmured into the phone and crouched to study one of the deceased. “The male doesn’t match Caleb’s body type.”

  A quiet breath came through the phone. “Sounds like someone’s covering his tracks,” Wolf said after a moment.

  “Yeah. If I’m not mistaken, these victims were tortured.” His eyes moved over the charred bodies, there were no signs of clothing. “This has Mez written all over it.”

  “Is there anything we can use?”

  “All the rooms were swept clean,” Alex said, stepping over the empty red canisters and debris. “The home is intact. Only the one room was affected by the fire.”

  “How’d the sting with Petrov go?”

  “I don’t know.” He stopped for a moment and stilled, listening. After a moment, he continued. “When I got your text, I told Micah I was checking a tip and I’d be right back. I didn’t know this place was out in the flipping boonies.”

  Wolf grunted.

  He crouched and used his pen light to lift up the edge of what looked to be a handbag. The thing was empty and fell apart. He stood and stepped carefully, making his way around the victims.

  “How’d you find Petrov anyway?” Wolf asked.

  “Micah’s informant got us an address. Rush was able to get word out that a couple was looking to buy a worker in the underground. We used a lot of cash, but I’m telling you,” Alex slipped down the hallway and into another room that looked like a den, “I think Rush used to be CIA, but he’s not talking and I’m not asking.”

  “That’s possible,” Wolf murmured.

  “Still, though, it took almost a week until we were able to arrange a meeting.” He moved on, out of the room through a far door and into a large kitchen. He swept the light around the area. Plates left with half eaten and rotted food signaled that the room had been occupied some time ago.

  “Any other signs of life?”

  Alex grimaced, stepping around a plate of food laying on the floor. “Some, but the house is empty.”

  “How far out in the woods are you?”

  “Like I said, I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

  “I can have my men come help you. They’re closer than I am.”

  “I can handle it. I’ll get some DNA to send to Stefano and then I’m out of here. When I’m clear, I’ll call the local sheriff.”

 
“Okay, watch your back.”

  “Will do,” he said and hung up.

  A bullet slammed into the wood near his head. He dropped low and pulled his Glock.

  A step crunched on something about twenty feet from his left and Alex spun and shot before diving into a roll across the kitchen and coming up near a cabinet. Silence. Staying as low as possible, he went out the rear kitchen doorway and into the hallway. He ducked back and waited. Something kicked the plate of food on the floor and a man cursed.

  Alex eased back, aiming his gun at the kitchen entry.

  When the man slowly swung around the corner, he fired several rounds. A gasp was followed by the sound of stumbling, and then a body hit the ground with a soft thud.

  He stayed still listening and then emerged slowly, gun raised, arm outstretched, hand cupped beneath the other as he inched forward. Reaching the door, he kicked it open, gun aimed. Swiveling left and then right, he looked down.

  A man lay sprawled on his back with several bullet holes pumping blood out of his chest.

  “Fuck.”

  Alex slowly approached, kicked away the gun, and then crouched. His fingers found no pulse.

  He located the kitchen light, flipped it on, and then snapped a picture and sent it to Wolf. His phone rang two seconds later.

  “What the fuck?” Wolf snapped.

  “Yeah, look who I found,” he said, looking down at the slightly balding Middle Eastern man, Gashi.

  “Shit,” Wolf grumbled. “I don’t suppose you got to question him did you?”

  “No, damn it,” he muttered.

  “What part of watch your back did you not understand? Vladimir is going to come gunning for you.”

  “Let him, it’ll make my job easier.”

  “Did you check Gashi’s phone?” Wolf asked.

  Alex lifted the man’s phone and used his finger to open it.

  “Well, fuck,” he said after seeing himself in a few photos the man had taken from outside near the driveway.

  “What?”

  “He sent my photo off to someone. See if you can track these phone numbers.” He rattled off the numbers Gashi had sent his photo to.

  “I’ll get back to you.”

  Micah

  The ear mic picked up the sound of voices clearly, along with the clatter of dishes as patrons ate an early evening meal. The cafe type restaurant was larger than it appeared to be with tables lining the inside as well as spilling outside onto a patio. Large outdoor heating lamps sat strategically placed between finished wood tables and chairs in the event the Colorado evening turned cool. A slight wind blew a discarded newspaper down the street.

  They’d been fortunate getting the hotel room directly across from the cafe where the meeting with Boris Petrov was to take place. Wild and Rush stood next to him with a birds eye view of the area below. From their vantage point, the mountains behind the tiny town looked majestic in the setting sun.

  Micah ran the binoculars over the area below. Roscoe and Noah were positioned at a nearby coffee house that sat three doors down from the cafe. Frost and Seth walked across the street from their hotel and into a nearby bookstore that stayed open after dark. Reggie was kicking it in the borrowed SUV in case they needed sudden wheels.

  Impatiently, he scanned the area. It was the only time Petrov would agree to meet. They’d put the word out and used a substantial amount of the money recovered from Gustov and Vladimir’s bank accounts. It seemed fitting to use their own money against them.

  It took a while for Petrov to take the bait. Because the man was money driven, they only had to up the ante enough to have the guy agreeing to a meeting.

  A rattle sounded out in the hallway. “I’ll check it,” Rush said, and checked his gun before cracking the hotel door open. After a moment, the medic slipped out and closed it with a slight click.

  He swiveled the binoculars when he caught movement from the left. A few killers for hire entered the restaurant with Petrov. Thankfully, Petrov chose to sit on the patio where, even in the growing dusk, Micah could see the man clearly. The beefy bodyguards stationed themselves at different corners from where Petrov sat alone at a table.

  Rush came back inside and shut the door. “All clear, we’re good. Fear’s gone.”

  He glanced over at the medic. “He received a text from his informant and went to check on the tip. He should be back before the sting’s over.”

  “He should have said something, I would have backed him up.”

  “He should have,” Micah said and then added, “Sorry about the other day.”

  “No worries.” Rush laughed and then smiled knowingly. “I mean, he’s hot as hell, but not my type. Way too protective for my taste.”

  Micah grimaced faintly. He hadn’t hidden his jealousy very well. “I’m glad he has you for a friend.”

  “I’m your friend too, Micah.” Rush said, and Micah shared a smile with the man before they both turned back to the window.

  As evening approached, Storm and Allison, arm in arm, stepped through the outside gate that sectioned off the tables from the cobblestone sidewalk.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Smith?” Petrov stood, the man’s voice was picked up clearly through the mic Allison had stitched into one of the buttons on her wool coat.

  “Yes,” was all Storm said and the audio picked up his voice.

  “Nice to meet you.” Petrov was all smiles and shook their hands.

  The large outdoor lamps suddenly flickered on, casting a glow over the patio.

  “Would you like a drink?” Petrov asked, and both Storm and Allison nodded and took a seat. The waitress came and took their order.

  “So, you’re looking for product.”

  “Yes,” Storm rumbled.

  “Preferably someone who won’t stand out,” Allison said, sounding bored.

  “Your contact said a Caucasian male?” Petrov asked.

  “Yes, young enough to not give me trouble, but old enough to follow orders,” Allison said.

  Petrov frowned and seemed to be thinking over something. The waitress arrived with their drinks and then left just as quickly.

  “A young boy…usually couples want a young girl to help with household duties,” Petrov said after taking a swallow of his drink.

  “Please, people, don’t fuck this up,” Micah whispered under his breath, squeezing the binoculars.

  “I won’t have another woman in my house.” Allison flipped her hair over one shoulder.

  Petrov studied her and then gave a slow smile.

  “I understand,” the man said.

  The distant sound of a cell phone ringing had Petrov pulling a phone from his pocket.

  “One minute.” The man held up a finger to Storm and Allison. Shifting slightly, the man turned away.

  “See what is going on and then get rid of him,” the man’s sharp voice barked out an order to someone over the phone, and then he clipped it closed.

  “Problem?” Storm’s deep voice rumbled.

  Petrov stood and flashed both Allison and Storm a smile that even from this distance made Micah’s skin crawl.

  “Unfortunately, we’re going to need to reschedule.”

  “What in the world do you mean?” Allison’s voice was that of a whining, rich snob that sounded like her favorite toy had just been taken away.

  “Now, now, dear,” Storm tried to placate Allison.

  “Don’t you dear me. Who the hell am I going to get to clean the house, do laundry, and do the cooking?” she snapped. “Or take care of the babies?” she wailed.

  Storm patted her shoulder.

  Wild snorted from where he stood next to Micah at the window watching the scene below. “If I didn’t know her any better and this wasn’t such a fucked up situation, I’d be laughing right now.”

  Micah nodded. Allison was laying it on thick.

  “I’m so sorry,” Petrov was saying to Storm. “Here’s my card. You can call that number in a few days and we can arrange another meeting at that
time.” Petrov stood and tossed money onto the table, then strode away. The man’s bodyguards trailed behind.

  Across the square, Petrov and his guards got into a vehicle and Storm and Allison hailed a cab. Seth, Frost, Noah, and Roscoe started moving toward their hotel.

  “Let’s go, they’re on the move,” Roscoe ordered through the mic.

  They were out of the room in ten seconds. Micah jogged down several flights of stairs, along with Wild and Rush. The borrowed SUV pulled up, and once all the doors were closed, Reggie tore away from the curb.

  “Where’s Fear?” Roscoe frowned.

  “Checking on a tip,” Micah grumbled and glanced at his phone. He didn’t attempt to contact Alex, sometimes a well-aimed text or call could give away a person’s position and result in all hell breaking loose or worse.

  Reggie took a sharp corner and Micah put out a hand to the top of the vehicle to keep his ass in the seat.

  “We’re turning down Main Street,” Storm’s voice came over the mic. With the aid of the sniper’s directions, Reggie caught up to Storm and Allison’s cab in record time.

  “We better have alternative plans if that guy is airlifted out,” Micah said, easing his grip. He was sick and tired of losing these guys to a well-positioned helicopter and he wouldn’t put it past them to have arranged it.

  “I got that covered.” Noah smiled and Micah glanced back at the operative. From the back end of the SUV, Noah held up what looked to be a smaller compact launcher with a streamlined and sleek look.

  “What is that?” Micah turned in his seat to check it out.

  “This, my friends, is a modified tracker launcher. Created by our very own and talented techie,” Noah said as he pointed to Reggie.

  “It carries tracking devices.” Reggie grinned. “Just aim and shoot. It’s designed to plant a tracker on anything that moves. It has a range of fifteen hundred meters.”

  “Well, shit,” Micah said. “That’s impressive.”

  Alex

  Wolf’s text came through. One of the phone numbers was registered to a man that owned a yacht moored nearby.

  Pulling into the parking lot, he rolled into one of the spots away from the pier and turned off the engine.