American Law (Law #2)

by Camille Taylor

  She backed away toward Lucas’s bedroom. She remembered seeing him lock away his weapon there. She went straight to his closet and found the safe, the code still imprinted into the computer. Opening the safe, she sighed in relief at the sight of an eight shot revolver with a black handle, then checked to make sure it was loaded before slowly returning to the kitchen where the man continued working on Lucas’s lock.

  She reacquainted herself with the weapon, holding the familiar weight in her hand, and breathed slowly to avoid panicking. She had to trust herself; one wrong move could prove disastrous for her and for the man on the other side of the door. Her heart thumped in her chest and she took a moment to calm herself. Panicking never helped anyone, and while she didn’t believe it, it could be very well be a common burglar.

  They certainly picked the wrong house, she thought, gripping the handle firmly and resting her finger against the trigger guard.

  She lifted the revolver and aimed toward the door as it opened. The man stepped through, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her with the gun.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  The man before her was no common burglar. He was clean-shaven and she could see the outline of his weapon under his shirt. His eyes held a shrewd intelligence that sent a shiver down her spine.

  “Relax, honey. It’s all good. No need to be pointing that gun at me.”

  His vocabulary made him seem American lower class, not college educated. If she had to guess she’d say he’d barely finished high school, but she wouldn’t underestimate him. She’d met men like him in the past and knew not to turn her back on them. His gaze drifted up and down her body in a way that made her want to run to the nearest toilet and throw up. She glared at him, moving the sight of the gun lower until it was pointing at the zipper on his pants.

  “Hey,” he immediately covered the area with his hands as if this would stop a bullet. “Watch where you’re pointing that thing.”

  “Remove your weapon,” she said, her tone telling him she would shoot if necessary.

  “What weapon?”

  “I’m not stupid. Remove it or I will remove a part of you. One you will most certainly miss.”

  His eyes widened further as he stared at her and gauged that she wasn’t kidding. She made sure he understood that perfectly well. He moved slowly, removing his gun from the waistband of his pants with two fingers. He tossed the pistol to the ground away from his reach.

  She watched as he briefly looked past her. She felt the presence behind her and acted too late. She didn’t have a chance to swing around before the second intruder had his weapon digging into her back in direct line with her kidney. If he pulled the trigger she was dead. He had snuck up behind her. The man could have been a ghost. She’d not heard him, not one squeak of a floorboard or one exhale of breath.

  The man stepped forward and she studied his face, her fear slowing down time, allowing her to process everything around her. She stiffened when she recognized him from the security feed Dmitry had found. This was the man who’d shot Ivan and tried to kill Dmitry. She barely suppressed the snarl that threatened to escape her mouth.

  How had they found her? Her mind gave her the simplest answer. They’d followed her and Lucas from the morgue.

  The man relieved her of the gun before pointing it back at her. Like his friend didn’t already have a good enough hold over her. She tried to get a look at the man behind her but he was a professional and kept his face hidden from view.

  “When you aim a gun, young lady, be prepared to fire it,” the man behind her lectured smugly. She could hear the age and wealth of experience in his voice.

  Bastard. She had no compunctions about firing a weapon. In fact she had shot and killed a man just two years ago in self-defense. The man had been a terrorist and would have shot Lucas had she not intervened. She just wanted to avoid an international incident, and didn’t fancy spending her time in any American prisons.

  “Think you can handle it from here, Henry, or would you like me to hold your hand?” the man behind her asked Ivan’s killer. Using names and not bothering to conceal their identities…this was not good. Not one fucking bit. Her heart leapt as panic rose within her.

  Sean’s eyes narrowed, his face turning red. Elena could see he wanted to tell the man behind her where to go, that or shoot him, but he must be quite powerful or just plain scary. His lips tightened, thinning as he nodded curtly. She felt the pressure of the gun alleviate from her back and she was then pushed toward Sean Henry. He grabbed her hands as she came close to him. His entire focus on his next step, she used his lack of concentration against him, knocking him off balance and into the island bench nearby. His body rammed hard into the ninety degree angle corner of the bench and his cry of pain almost deafened her as she made a leap for Lucas’s revolver.

  The second man came up behind her and grabbed her hair, yanking her head backwards until she was looking up into his hard angry eyes. Her palm closed around the butt of the gun. She bit down hard on her bottom lip to stifle the gasp of pain, unwilling to give the man any satisfaction, and glared up at him, ignoring the metallic tang of blood in her mouth as her teeth cut the soft tissue of her lips.

  Raising the revolver, she brought it down hard over the man’s head. His breath hissed out and he pulled tighter on her hair, bringing her closer to him, his free hand applying pressure on her wrist until she dropped Lucas’s gun once more.

  Limping, Sean reached inside his pocket and brought up a small black object. She struggled futilely against the second man’s strong hold as his arm wrapped around her chest, capturing her flailing arms and pinning them down.

  For a moment she thought she should know him, that she had seen him somewhere before. He looked so familiar as if she knew him or at least knew of him. No memory was forthcoming. The man had obviously been in the army at some point, her panicked mind interpreting his efficient actions, as he applied force against certain pressure points on her body that had her unwillingly relenting to him.

  “Hurry up, Henry, this one’s a real fighter.”

  Sean nodded as he came at her while simultaneously powering what she now recognized as a taser. He sent a dark look toward her as moved closer, telling her that he would enjoy the pain he inflicted on her. She steeled herself against the pain she knew was coming, just as he pressed the device hard against her hip, allowing for no mistakes.

  A bolt of electricity zinged through her and this time she couldn’t stifle the cry of agony. She attempted to dislodge him by throwing her head left and right but he only pressed harder almost fracturing her hip bone in the process. The man behind her tightened his grip painfully warning her silently.

  She jerked from the jolt and darkness invaded her vision. She tried to shake it off, to keep fighting but her body began to feel heavy and sluggish. She soon found she could barely move her arms. The man who looked so familiar stared down at her, watching as she fell unconscious.

  Chapter 21

  Lucas sauntered into Jim’s office. The man sat behind his desk reading through his emails. He hadn’t wanted to leave Elena, more than willing to crawl back into bed with her, but he had to work. He hadn’t been prepared for her impromptu visit.

  Once the situation with Dmitry stabilized, he would ask for a couple days off to sweet-talk her into staying. He hoped after last night groveling wouldn’t be necessary, though he was prepared to do or say anything. He needed her in his life. Her mere presence filled him with love and happiness. Despite Dmitry’s circumstances, Elena walking through his door was the best day of his life.

  He was one step closer to having everything he could ever want.

  His boss looked up as he stepped close and swiveled his chair, turning it toward the printer where he picked up a fresh piece of paper off the feeder and handed it to Lucas.

  “Here’s the information you requested about Sean Michael Henry, hot off the press. I won’t ask you how you came about this name. I doubt if it just fell o
ut of the sky.”

  Lucas nodded. “Good idea. Thanks, Jim.”

  James waved a hand in dismissal. “I didn’t do it for you, Lucas, you know that. I like Elena. Have since the day I first spoke with her and I’m sure I will like this Dmitry as well when I eventually meet him. One hell of a family, no doubt.”

  He quickly skimmed what the tech guys downstairs had found on Sean Henry. The address was the same as the one on his driver’s license. He read the list of charges and arrests on his rap sheet, including several small stints in a federal prison.

  “I know this goes without saying but I’ll say it anyway. He’s not the type of man you want hanging around or sniffing about,” Fitzgibbon continued as he read. “You may want to let your answering machine know.”

  Lucas didn’t need to be told twice. He already had his phone out and was dialing his house number before James had finished speaking. He listened to it ring before his answering machine picked up. Elena was probably screening his calls. He spoke into the machine, asking for her to pick up. After a few seconds, when it was clear neither Elena nor Dmitry were going to answer, he hung up and tried the number again.

  He didn’t like this. After reading Henry’s file, his discomfort only increased. Sean Henry wasn’t the type of man he’d call intelligent. There was someone out there making the decisions, someone with brains. Henry was hired muscle, and dangerous muscle at that. He heard the machine pick up again and swore eloquently.

  Where the hell are Dmitry and Elena?

  Chapter 22

  Dmitry made his way through the throng of researchers and visitors and took a seat in an isolated area of the circular reading room beneath the pale blue domed ceiling of the Library of Congress. He’d chosen the library for its grand size and because he could easily blend in and get lost in the crowd, should there be a need.

  He pulled out Elena’s laptop from his backpack and hooked it up to the library’s free Wi-Fi. He accessed the Internet, bringing up the program he had created the night before. One that would confuse any tracers for a small period of time. It wasn’t the best, but it would do. He needed all the help he could get. He only had one chance at collecting the information he desired and knew that what he was after would provide the answer and bring about the proof of his innocence.

  He started the program. Once a trace was detected, the software would send the technical operator a series of incorrect locations all around the world. It would only last five minutes—four if the tech was good—before his real location was discovered.

  Dmitry made himself comfortable, looking about the reading room. No one was paying him any special attention so he continued typing in the commands.

  Time to get this party started.

  He once more accessed the Pentagon’s mainframe. The security was tighter but still ineffectual against him. He brought up the administrator’s profile he had created before under GreyHat01, somewhat surprised it hadn’t been found and deleted, and made his way deep into the internal data banks and typed Sundown into a search box. He added a few other key words such as implement and protocol for good measure, in case Sundown alone wouldn’t give him the specific results.

  He prayed he would find what he was looking for since he risked a lot to do so. Sifting quickly through useless search results, he was left with four pages of information. He skimmed through each of the pages before finding what he was after on the third: a complete list of those involved in the inception of Sundown from design to execution. He sent the data to his iPhone knowing he would barely have enough time to get out of the building before the agents arrived.

  Returning his fingers to the keyboard, he searched through cyberspace and entered the dark web where the stain of humanity roamed. He didn’t have much time—two minutes, tops—before he had to get out of there. He had no doubt whatsoever that the men with guns were on their way here now.

  Money. It is always about the bloody money.

  As they said in the movies, follow the money. They were right.

  He found what he was looking for, briefly skimming over the words on the page, and absorbing the information before closing down the laptop and returning it to the backpack. Knowing what he did now, he had something to bargain with—something other than Sundown. He felt a lot better, almost like normal again. Rising calmly, as if he had all the time in the world, he made his way between the arched desks and toward the door.

  He descended three sets of staircases to the street and crossed the road to the small park and sat down on a bench that looked out toward the library. He watched as three black government issued vehicles pulled up outside, red and blue lights flashing within the grilles.

  Accessing his phone, he brought up the downloaded material. He scrolled through the pictures of the people privy to Sundown. Distinguished looking men peered back at him, one of who had organized the theft of a highly classified document. He listened to the shouts of the team of government agents swarming over the steps of the library as he read the brief bios of the men. None of them sounded like the person he would have thought was involved, but how could he be sure? Human nature couldn’t be measured.

  His cell phone vibrated and the caller ID showed Lucas calling. He hoped he had good news.

  “Where are you?” Lucas demanded, his voice brimming with worry.

  Oh God, what now?

  “At the library.”

  Lucas let out a deep breath. “Is Elena with you?”

  “No. Why?”

  If anyone should know where Elena had gone, it was Lucas. The two were practically joined at the hip now. He shuddered at the thought that popped inside his head. There were just certain things a brother shouldn’t think about when it included his sister.

  “I just got home, and when I got here, the kitchen door was open and it looks like there was a struggle. They’ve got her, Dmitry. The son-of-a-bitches have her.”

  Something thudded loudly. He could practically feel the anger vibrating off every word Lucas spoke. If they couldn’t find Elena, there was only one viable reason, and that was not a pleasant thought. He gulped, his stomach churning, not wanting to think about what Henry and his men could be doing to his sister. He tried to clear his head and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself.

  “They won’t hurt her,” he said, not quite believing it. “Not while I’m still at large, at least. They want me, not her.” His heart hurt knowing she was in danger.

  “These people won’t stop at anything to get you to do what they want you. Just look at your friend Ivan.”

  Dmitry heard a car door slam shut right before the engine caught.

  “Which library are you at?” Lucas asked.

  “Congress. Outside the main entrance to the Thomas Jefferson Building.”

  “What are you doing?” Lucas started, before exhaling deeply. “Never mind. You can tell me when I get there. Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

  Chapter 23

  She was floating in a sea of ecstasy. Her entire body felt as weightless as a feather. She felt giddy—almost as if she was drunk. Giggles bubbled up from inside her like champagne. It was almost as if she was having an out of body experience and wondered if at any time would she float above her body and look down at herself.

  She arched her back as she felt his tongue glide up her body starting at her belly button and moving up her neck before it turned into a delectable kiss. She tasted him and breathed his masculine scent into her. Her toes curled. Her breath hitched and she struggled to breathe. She had never felt this way before. This was as close to heaven as she could get while she was still alive—and she was alive.

  So very alive. Every nerve screamed as he touched her. His fingers left scorching marks in their wake. She thought she would be burned up by sheer pleasure. She watched his face as he leaned over her. His eyes dark with passion as he kissed her again and again.

  “Lucas,” she said softly, reaching out to him. Her eyelids were heavy. She found herself unable to
open them and could smell the tangy scent of men’s body odor. She struggled to move. Her body felt weighted down, but she could have sworn there was nothing on top of her.

  They moved rapidly along a road. The cacophony of heavy traffic surrounded her. Honking horns, tires screeching and men cursing. The car went over a pothole and jarred her. Pain raced up the length of her arm and darkness swam around her as she attempted to fight it off.

  “Lucas,” she whispered again, her head moving back and forward slightly as she fought to regain complete consciousness.

  “Looks like someone is waking up.” A man spoke, and she guessed he sat in the front of the car. The voice sounded familiar to her foggy brain. Her head pounded and her throat was sore. What the hell happened to her and why did she feel so tired?

  She tried to open her eyes again and failed. Exhausted from the effort, she moved her head slightly to alleviate the ache inside. The sun against her face heated her skin.

  Good. Maybe I haven’t been out that long. Not unless it was the next day and she had slept through the night.

  “Better move quickly,” the man’s companion said. “I don’t want to have to fight the bitch again.”

  Another familiar voice. Her sluggish mind tried desperately to come to an answer. Where was she and how did she get here? Why couldn’t she remember and why did she feel so heavy? Elena tried to move her hands and found them to be bound together. She moved her body and felt a tingling numbness and her memory came rushing back. She’d been alone at Lucas’s when two men had broken in, and she fought them only to fail.

  The sound of a cell phone camera taking a photo penetrated the fogginess. She had no doubts as to the subject.

  “If she gives us any more trouble we’ll just give her another shot of the taser,” the first man said.

  That explained her current circumstance. The bastards had knocked her unconscious. She would have to pay them back for that later once she got to her feet and wasn’t feeling so nauseous.