Surrender (Surrender #1)

by J. G. Sumner

  “I don’t know! He just did!” Mancetti pulled his hands through his hair. “You would think he’d call. You’d think he’d just turn himself in. He seemed like he was onboard and ready to cooperate.”

  “Unless…unless he flew the coop. Do you think he found a way to leave the country? What if he has Katherine? What if he’s the one holding her for ransom? Maybe we’ve been on the wrong trail the entire time. Fuck! How could we screw this up again?” Thompson got out of the car and slammed the door. “What do we do now? Time is running out. We have to find Anderson now!”

  “I’ve got an idea. I’ll have my people check all the properties under his family name. We’ll cross-check all of Matteo Bertalucci’s properties as well. Perhaps something will come up. Maybe a lead or clue of some sort.”

  Thompson grabbed the cell phone from his pocket. He took a deep breath and exhaled before punching in the number for his superior. He needed to brace for the shellacking he was going to receive. “I guess it’s as good of an idea as any. We don’t have any other options. Call your men. I’m going to see if there’s any more news with the ransom.”

  Both men got on their cell phones and called their respective agencies. Thompson paced around the car as he received the information he wasn’t quite ready to hear. Not only had the kidnappers refused to extend the deadline, but Mr. Charles Anderson himself was on the way to Italy and he would be arriving in a few short hours. Mr. Anderson didn’t seem like the type to take bad news easily. Was he the man who could cost him his job? God, he hoped not. He’d worked too damned hard and long to get where he was only to lose everything because of his limitations with the Italian government. Thompson had to find Katherine before her father arrived. His presence would make the investigation much more difficult.

  Mancetti threw his phone into the car.

  “Well?” He needed something—anything. His world was spiraling out of control. Waves were crashing over him and he tried to swim to the surface, gasping for air.

  “There’s a house registered to a Luisa Bertalucci.” Mancetti paused and jumped into the back seat of the car. He began typing away on his laptop.

  “Please tell me she’s related to Massimo and Matteo.”

  “Hold on, let me find out.” Manchetti continued typing away. “It appears that she was their grandmother. She’s been dead for about twenty years, but the house has never changed ownership and the taxes have been paid on it yearly. Someone is keeping it up.”

  “I bet we know who. I’d also bet Katherine is in that house.” Thompson was finally able to surface. The storm was dissipating and fresh air filled his lungs. This was it. He knew it. Katherine had to be in that house. Hopefully, they could get there before it was too late.

  “I have a hunch you’re right. Let’s go check out the house; I want to see who’s going in and out of it.” Manchetti closed his laptop and moved to the driver’s seat.

  “Do we need to get a search warrant to go inside? How does this work in your country?”

  “We don’t need a search warrant. But we do need to make sure we have plenty of evidence to put this guy away for good. Unlike in America, we need an enormous amount of evidence to convict someone. Even if they have stolen something and are in possession of it, they can be released. You’re more likely to get the conviction if you have witnesses or a video of the thief. That’s why most of our mafioso are set free. We don’t have enough evidence to show they’re guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Many times, the evidence is lost or tampered with. The burden of proof is extremely high here.”

  Thompson was frustrated. Why were things so complicated here? “So, we can just go in and arrest him right now?”

  “Yes, and we can hold him for an indefinite amount of time while performing our investigation. However, if he’s behind bars, we won’t be able to collect the evidence we need to convict him.”

  “What about what we got earlier? He confessed to everything on tape. We’ve got him.”

  “That will certainly help. Unfortunately, we’re going to need a lot more. Massimo Bertalucci as a witness would be great, but we’re going to have to find a way to keep him safe. The mafioso is also known for having witnesses against them disappear.”

  “We have the video from the Tomas Bertalucci, Massimo Bertalucci as a witness, and a recording of Matteo Bertalucci admitting he’s head of the mafioso. You’re telling me that’s not enough?”

  “Probably not. We could use a few more witnesses and more information about his black market olive oil production. If we can get Anderson to identify him as the man who kidnapped her, that would probably seal the deal. Even then, it might not be enough.”

  “That’s crazy. The amount of evidence we have on this man would put him away for life in America.”

  “Italian law evolved from the Romans. It continues to stay true to many of its practices. We don’t have jury trials like you do in the States. Having a jury is rare, but if there is one, it’s usually comprised of lawyers and those knowledgeable of the law. They aren’t everyday citizens like you have.”

  “I wasn’t aware of that. It’s amazing how two countries can have so many similarities with the people, culture, and beliefs yet differ so much. How do you suggest we approach this?”

  “I want to go stake out the house for a bit and see who’s coming and going. I’d like to identify as many players as we can. It’ll be much easier down the road when I arrest them and try to get someone to crack and be a witness. We can’t be sure just yet that Anderson is in there. Perhaps by watching them, we could get a better idea. I’d also like to know if Bertalucci is in there as well. He’s a key player and could either be a victim or he could be a part of this entire conspiracy. We need to know.”

  Thompson nodded in agreement. “In the meantime, what should we do about the guy who showed up in Rome?”

  “He’s already been taken into custody. They found him at the Waldorf Astoria. We were able to apprehend him before he connected with Matteo. My guys are questioning him as we speak.”

  “How far away is Luisa Bertalucci’s house?”

  “It’s about two hours from here. I’ll have the surveillance team meet us there. Let’s go.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Thompson climbed into the car. He was eager to end this investigation and head back home. There were too many uncertainties when performing intel and investigations in foreign countries. He would much rather be on his own turf; at least he was in control there.

  Chapter

  Thirty-One

  The heat singed the hairs on his face and arms. The sensation of skin melting caused his heart rate to surge in sudden panic. The fiery inferno was too much to take. He had no other choice. She was screaming for him to help her and he had to get there before it was too late. What kind of coward would he be if he allowed her to perish in the fire? No, there was no other way. He was going to have to find a way into the blaze to rescue her. “Please stop! Heelllppp!”

  Tony ran to the window to get a glimpse of her whereabouts. The heat from the fire caused the window to burst, sending splinters of glass everywhere. He was unable to cover his face in time. Tiny little daggers lodged themselves under his skin. He scratched and clawed at his face, trying to get the stinging to stop. She cried out his name and he refocused. The window…flames were reaching out in search of the oxygen that would only ignite it further.

  He ran to the door and grabbed the handle. He screamed out as blisters instantly formed on his palm. There was no time to spare. He took off his shirt and wrapped it around his hand as he attempted the doorknob again. The force from the flames and the heat threw him back, landing about ten feet away. “Tony, help!” The intensity of the explosion forced him to search for cover. She was gone.

  “Tony!”

  “You think he’s going to save you? That poor excuse for a man is nothing but a corpse in that chair. You better come up with a Plan B.”

  He opened his eyes and saw Matteo standing over Kate with his fist in
the air, ready to use her face as his personal punching bag. She was almost unrecognizable. Her face, her eyes, and lips were so swollen. Purple-and-blue bruising covered most of her face, and her hair was matted with dried blood. It was one thing for Matteo to do this to him, but to strike an innocent woman was incomprehensible. Anger bubbled throughout his body like lava building in a volcano waiting for its release.

  Tony assessed his surroundings; he was tied to a chair and tugged on the ropes, but with each tug, a dagger of pain stabbed him in the chest. His ribs—they hurt like a bitch. How many were broken? He pulled on the ropes once more to no avail. They were too tight, and the pain with every tug begged for him to scream out in agony.

  “It doesn’t look like dear old Daddy is going to live up to his side of the bargain. I should’ve had the money by now. It looks like he doesn’t give a shit about his precious little daughter after all. But that’s okay. Word has it he’s on a plane to Rome as we speak. Maybe a little interception is called for. That way, Daddy can be next to his dead daughter. I wonder how much your mother would cough up? Certainly more than the five million I asked of your father. This might just work out after all.”

  “You’ll never get to him! You’ll never get away with this!” She turned her head just as the fist came down on her face. The force of the impact threw her back in the chair and then toppling to the ground.

  The thud of her head hitting the cold hard cement made Tony wince. How many times had he done this to her? How much more could she endure before he really did kill her?

  “Stupid bitch!”

  He closed his eyes just as Matteo turned and walked in his direction. The heels of his fine Italian loafers clicked against the cement. The sound grew louder until he could feel the heat from Matteo’s presence standing over him.

  “I’m glad you made it out of the fire. You’ve given me great pleasure. It’s more rewarding to beat you to a bloody fucking pulp. And the girl? Well, she’s just an added bonus. God, I wish this could last longer; I haven’t had this much fun since I watched your family burn in that blaze. That ended much too quickly for my liking. This…this memory will last me a lifetime. I’ll definitely think fondly of this moment when I’m sitting on my private beach. I’ll always remember the exact minute I took everything from Massimo Bertalucci.” Matteo chuckled as he walked up the stairs.

  Fucking hell! What the fuck happened to him? When did he become so sinister? I’ve got to get her out of here. Please, God. If I don’t make it through this, at least let me get Kate out of this mess.

  He glanced over at her and saw she still wasn’t moving. He sat still and held his breath hoping to see the rise and fall of her chest. He let out a huge sigh of relief when she finally took a breath; it was shallow but she was breathing.

  How much time did she have? Even if he could free himself from the ropes, would he be able to wake her up? Would she be able to stand or run for freedom? He whittled at the ropes; his only hope was he could untie them and get to her before it was too late.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Two

  “Holy shit! This is a frickin’ compound. They have the place completely surrounded and guarded.” Thompson stared through the binoculars at the home that was formerly owned by Luisa Bertalucci. There must’ve been at least fifteen armed men outside with guards stationed by every window and door. Each was armed with what looked like AK-47s. Who knew how many were inside? How on Earth would they get Katherine out of there alive?

  He wasn’t trained in combat. Sure he carried a weapon, and he knew how to shoot it, but he certainly wasn’t trained in hostage situations. This investigation—this case—had just put him out of his league.

  “Um…I’m afraid I don’t know what to do in this situation. This is way out of my scope of practice.”

  “Yeah, we are definitely going to need reinforcements. Let me call for a team. I think we hit the jackpot here. I’m certain your Anderson and my mafioso are in that house. You stay here and keep an eye out while I go make some calls. Let me know if you see anyone leave.” Mancetti pulled himself from the brush and hustled back to the car.

  Thompson continued to assess the situation. He studied each man closely. None of them looked familiar—not that he expected them to. And none of them looked as though they were enjoying their work. They all looked bored. In fact, one man, who stood next to a window that sat low to the ground, appeared ready to doze off. He watched as the man took a seat on the ground. His head was eye level to the window. What an odd place for a window. It must be a basement or cellar of some sort. Could that be where they’re holding Katherine? Shit, we did just hit the jackpot!

  The man leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. A nervous ball of energy grew inside of Thompson. This was their chance. If they could just get past the armed guards, they could get Katherine from the basement. Surely they could do it. But, how? How could they do it without attracting attention? They would have to wait for nightfall and take each guard out one by one.

  Mancetti lay down next to him. “All right, we should have backup here shortly.”

  He pulled down the binoculars and turned to Manchetti. “When you say backup, who’s coming?”

  “The hostage unit.”

  His stomach sank. “The hostage unit? How many people are in there? I think we’re going to need a small army to get Katherine out of that basement.” He pointed to the window and handed the binoculars over to Mancetti.

  “You think she’s in there?”

  “Well, yeah. It makes sense he would keep her down there. If she was on the main floor, she’d have a better chance to escape.”

  Manchetti grabbed the binoculars. “I see your reasoning. Hmm. Did you see the guy napping?”

  “Yeah. Let’s hope he’s the example of all the guards. It might not be as hard to bust into that house as we thought.”

  “I’m not counting on it. Bertalucci’s men are known for their hostility and having no mercy. We’ve got our hands full here.”

  “So should we call for more than just the hostage unit?”

  Mancetti laughed. “Somehow I think you got the wrong impression about the team. The hostage unit is the small army you are looking for. They’re equipped with multiple snipers, a bomb unit, surveillance, and more equipment and manpower than either of us are used to. There’s no doubt in my mind they can take care of this situation.”

  Relief flooded his body. “I think we should wait until dark. Then the snipers can take out each guard without it being as noticeable.”

  “I agree with you; I’m sure they’ll make that assessment when they get here. In the meantime, we need to keep an eye on things and make sure Matteo Bertalucci doesn’t try to make a run for it. I’m going to grab a couple of sodas out of the car. I’ll be right back.”

  “Sure. Take your time. I’m just going to sit here and make sure nothing goes awry.” Thompson settled in and prepared for a long night ahead. With any luck, he’d be on a plane back to the United States tomorrow.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Three

  “Eat!” Katherine’s eyes popped open to find the green-eyed monster slamming a plate of food down in front of her. He seemed unusually tense; her other encounters with him had been anything but pleasant, but he had always seemed cool and relaxed—even when he was beating the crap out of her. It was almost like a game to him, and he always wore a smug smile.

  This time was different; his jaw was tight, a vein bulged out the side of his forehead, and his lips were pursed. There was no adventure to be had with this encounter. She would have to mind her Ps and Qs this time, or this may be the last time she ever woke up.

  “Did you hear me? I said eat!” The green-eyed monster slammed his fist on the table.

  Dried blood collected in the back of her throat. The acidic taste diminished any appetite she’d mustered. She cleared her throat. “If you’d please untie me so …”

  “No! You’ll eat off the plate with your mouth—like
a dog. You rich little bitches think you’re entitled to everything. All you are is a headache for the rest of the world. This is what you’re worth. Nothing. Now eat the fucking food!”

  The last thing she wanted to do was eat, especially if she had to eat with just her mouth, no hands, and no silverware. She was at an impasse—if she didn’t eat at least part of the meal, the beatings would begin again. She didn’t know how much more she could take. She’d never felt pain like this. As it was, every muscle in her body screamed in agony.

  When the beatings first started, they were tolerable. She’d never been hit by anyone before. Somehow, the physical pain was a relief from the emotional pain she’d felt for the last few weeks; it was somewhat cathartic. Now, she could feel her life slipping away with each forceful blow he inflicted. She was too tired to fight anymore; her strength was gone, and the only glimmer of light she had left was the will to not die like this.

  “You’ll eat now!” The green-eyed monster grabbed her by the back of the head and slammed her face into the plate. Her nose smashed into the hard surface, causing a tingling sensation and pain shooting into the back of her head. She slowly raised her head from the plate as tears clouded her vision.

  Slowly, she opened her mouth to take a bite of food. It was pasta; gnocchi, to be precise. What normally would be one of her favorite pasta dishes, made her stomach queasy. She took the bite in her mouth, but before she could swallow, her stomach constricted, her mouth began to salivate, and she vomited all over herself. She was too weak to move her head to the side, so instead, she rested her head on the table in defeat. She had nothing left to give. She was too tired. All she wanted to do was to go back to sleep.

  “Not such the princess now are you?” The green-eyed monster pulled her hair, yanking her head up. “Open your fucking eyes! Look at me when I’m talking to you!”