S.O.S. Wiley

by LJ Vickery

  “Uh…” Now the guy looked intimidated. “I don’t need any federal agencies here,” he balked. “The Boston Police will do…I guess. But how will I know you aren’t just calling some shmoe who’ll say he’s a cop?”

  Wiley grew impatient with the auctioneer. “Pull out your phone,” he snapped, “and he’ll give you a name and number. Tell the detective Del Songen’s here.”

  The pertinent contact information was passed along, as well as the S.O.S. name. The auctioneer dialed.

  It seemed like an interminable amount of time before the detective was finally located and put on the phone. Mercifully, the conversation was short.

  “Hi,” the man said. “I’m an auctioneer on the south shore, and I have a question about a guy here from a firm called S.O.S…” He nodded. “Yeah. That’s his name. He’s asking for access to my records, so I need to know if he’s legit.” The auctioneer met Del’s eyes and nodded again. “So you’ll vouch for him?... Okay. Good… Yeah. I’ll put him on speaker.” The man tapped his screen.

  “I’m here,” Del barked.

  “Del,” the detective’s voice flooded the space between them. “You need help with anything?”

  “I might, Steven. But the problem won’t be within your jurisdiction.”

  The detective chuckled. “Like that ever stops me.”

  Del smirked.

  “Just let me know if you need any back-up and I’ll send the right guys.”

  “Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.”

  The man hung up.

  Wiley crossed his arms and snarled, “Okay. You’ve ID’d us. Now, let us inside and give us what you have.”

  “I don’t need to consult my records. I drove a truck to this guy’s house myself.” He rattled off the address.

  “Let’s move.” Wiley was back in the truck in seconds, leaving Del to thank the auctioneer for his help.

  He pounded his fists on the steering wheel. They needed to be gone.

  Billboard and Perk had remained in the back of the vehicle. Sarge took his seat, and Del finally slid in next to Wylie. When Prez climbed into the seat behind Wylie, he leaned forward to clap a hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, Wiles. We can’t do much except recon until dark…unless you want to go in, guns blazing, and shoot the fuckers dead.”

  “Don’t think it hasn’t crossed my mind,” Wiley grumbled, starting the truck and heading out of the lot. “So, how do we approach this?”

  “Let’s go back to my place first,” Del told him. “It’s closest, and we can grab surveillance gear.” He looked at Wiley, dressed in jeans and a button-down. “And some light-colored clothes for you.”

  The rest of the guys were already in white, to blend in with the snow during the night hours.

  Prez spoke up again. “Del, you got more weapons at your place?” he asked. “Because I’m feeling pretty naked here with just my nine millimeter.”

  Prez was the sniper in the group, and Wiley wanted him to be ready for any possibility.

  “Does the .300 Winchester Magnum in my safe count?” Del quipped.

  Prez sniffed. “Well, it’s no MSR10, but it will do.”

  Del gave him the finger. “Boo-hoo. Fucking crybaby needs his state-of-the-art toys.”

  They continued, but Wiley tuned them out. He knew they’d be covered. Del would have all kinds of goodies to secure their asses.

  When they neared Del’s, he became anxious again. “We still need a plan.”

  “I get that, Wiles. But it’s a no-brainer. We gear up and head to the twenty,” Del answered patiently. “Once we survey and assess, we’ll come up with the best way in. I think it’ll be three and three when we go. Three to locate and rescue your girl, and three to hold off whoever else is on the property.”

  “And once Solina’s safe,” Prez added, an evil grin on his face, “all bets are off on what we do to the assholes next, right?”

  Del shook his head. “Just remember to leave the tangos alive so we can deliver them to the proper authorities. I won’t bitch if a few body parts go missing.” He shrugged. “But don’t get too carried away.”

  Depending on how Beauty had been treated would determine the amount of Wiley’s retribution. If the fuckers hadn’t acted like choirboys, they’d be in a world of hurt.

  The SUV pulled up to Del’s house and the six men alighted. The two in back stumbled out, their legs numb from being scrunched up for so long.

  Bri opened the door before they reached it. “Hi, guys.” She looked at each of them in turn. “Jeez, you all look like crap. It’s a good thing I don’t mind taking care of you. I have sandwiches on the table and bottles of water.” She snorted. “I’d suggest a couple hours of sleep, but I’m thinking that’s a negative.”

  “You’re correct, babe.” Del strode forward and planted a big kiss on his wife’s lips, making Wiley hyper-aware that he wanted to be able to do the same thing to Solina. He wanted to have her waiting at the door for him just like this at the end of every day. “Thanks for thinking ahead, sweetheart.”

  They all filed in, and while they shoveled food into their mouths, Del filled Bri in on what they heard at the auction company and where things would go.

  Brianna nodded and popped an olive into her mouth before approaching Wiley. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing. “You’ll get her back, Wiles.” She spoke into his chest. “I know you will.”

  “Thanks, Bri.” His eyes flooded, but he blinked it back. She was the third person to assure him of that, and he hoped they were right. “And when we do, you’re going to love Solina.”

  She pulled away, not bothering to hide her tears. “Already done, if she’s yours. And if you think it’s okay, I’ve talked to Mayg and her girls, as well as Mizzay. We want to head to Solina’s house and clean up the mess before she gets home.”

  Now Wiley really wanted to bawl. He got the feeling nobody had taken care of Solina like this for a long time. It was going to mean a lot to her. “Are you sure, Bri? You just gave birth two weeks ago and―”

  “Pfff,” Bri cut him off, waving her hand through the air. “Liam is the best baby in the universe…during the day. He sits in his little carrier and watches the world go by”. The baby gurgled away as if on cue, giving truth to her assertion. “He only becomes a devil-child when it’s time to sleep.”

  “Shit, Bri. If you’re okay with it…”

  “Absolutely. The clean-up squad is already on its way here, and I’ve got supplies ready to go.” She pointed to a corner where a vacuum, brooms, mops and buckets were piled.

  “You’re the best.” Wiley parked his balls for a moment and let a couple droplets fall from the corners of his eyes.

  He knew none of the guys would blame him.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Solina woke up and tried to blink the sleep out of her eyes, but they… Ouch! They both fucking hurt and were nearly swollen shut. Catching a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror last night had been shocking, but she figured she’d look more horrific this morning. She needed to see. No time like the present to confront the worst. She slowly sat up in bed, expecting dizziness or nausea, pleased to have neither. At least something was going her way.

  She ignored her image on the way by the mirror to take care of morning business, but couldn’t put it off once she was done. Solina turned to the glass, raised her head and groaned. Fucking asshole. Both eyes had blackened, and her cheeks were bruised and puffy. Not pretty. Tentatively, she ran a tongue over her teeth. Thankfully, they all seemed fine―even the one in back that had worried her last night.

  So she had two blessings. She wouldn’t need a dentist, if she got out of this alive, and amazingly, her nose was untouched.

  She prodded her bottom lip. The split, off to the left-hand side, looked to be the worst of her injuries. In her uneducated opinion, it probably needed stitches, but butterflying it up might help. She opened a medicine cabinet and rummaged around.

  No Band-Aids.

&nb
sp; Mary knocked on the bathroom door.

  “Come on in,” Solina told her. “I’m just taking an inventory of my injuries.”

  Mary entered and her eyes met Solina’s in the mirror. She took a good look and shook her head. Her mouth tightened. She pointed up and drew a cutting line across her throat. Solina nodded.

  “Yes. I’d like to kill him, too,” she agreed, which was quite the revelation. Despite all the manipulations and demands she’d been subjected to over her lifetime, not once had she felt inclined to inflict bodily harm. But that was probably because physical punishment hadn’t been used on her. Her parents were more into mild, psychological exploitation. Solina would have laughed if her lip allowed. Apparently, she didn’t know how good she had it growing up.

  After a knowing look, Mary bent and rummaged in the cabinet below the sink, coming up with a toothbrush.

  “Thanks… I think.” Solina twisted half her mouth into a smile and reached out for the brush. “It should be interesting to see how this goes. It might take me a while, so why don’t you use the facilities before I attempt it.” Solina left the room and closed the door behind her.

  Five minutes later, back in the bathroom, she made a semblance of setting things straight. Cleaning her teeth was a feat, but brushing her hair? Total agony. Solina managed to smooth out the tangles from her ears down, but almost everything near her crown ached and stung, except one small bit at the very back, which she also tamed. She surveyed her reflection. Not a style that would catch on anytime soon.

  As she exited the bathroom, the main door opened, and despite her earlier bravado about killing Pietro, Solina jumped back and trembled, waiting to see if the man had come to finish her off. She gave a huge sigh of relief and relaxed against the wall when she saw breakfast was being delivered.

  The tall, emaciated man didn’t speak, didn’t even look at them. He just dropped the overly large tray on the coffee table, turned and stalked out.

  “Service with a smile, I see,” Solina quipped, pushing off the wall. Suddenly ravenous, she joined Mary on the couch. “It actually looks good.”

  Eggs, toast, sausages and bacon lay across a couple plates, small cartons of orange juice and milk beside them. There were also a few breakfast bars, a couple apples and a full jar of peanut butter. But the smell wafting from the steaming cups toward the back was what called to Solina.

  “Coffee. Yes.” She reached for a mug, brought it to her nose and inhaled the goodness. It was amazing how much the smell of java could perk you up. She managed a small taste.

  Mary took a sip of her coffee, too, but before she started on her food, she picked up her pad and pen.

  Because it’s Saturday and Pietro has everyone busy, this is the only meal we’ll get today, so we need to keep some of it for later.

  “What do you suggest we save?” Solina asked.

  Toast, apples, peanut butter and breakfast bars. We can have the bars and apples with peanut butter for lunch, and peanut butter sandwiches―using the toast―for supper.

  “So we’ll have some energy right before we make our second escape attempt.” Solina took another tentative sip of coffee using the right side of her mouth, managing to get it in without dribbling down her chin. She swallowed the small mouthful, and instantly felt better. “When is a good time for us to try it?”

  Mary picked up her fork and started in on her scrambled eggs, but held up five fingers on her left hand, then again.

  “Ten o’clock tonight?”

  Mary nodded.

  “That early? I figured it would be after midnight.”

  While Mary chewed, she put down her fork and wrote.

  Pietro celebrates his success of the day and does a lot of his drugs himself. From around ten to midnight, he’s busy partying. After that, he always seems wired. He wanders the house and grounds before he finally passes out.

  “And we shouldn’t wait until he passes out?” Solina wasn’t sure she wanted to encounter Pietro while he was high. Gingerly, she slid some eggs into her mouth and chewed. Her jaw ached something fierce, but she needed to keep her strength up.

  Mary shook her head. There’s no timetable to that. Sometimes he’s passed out by two or three in the morning; other times he’s up until daybreak.

  “I understand,” Solina said around a painful bite of bacon. “We can’t risk that.”

  When Solina had eaten as much as her beleaguered face would allow, she sat back. “What do you do all day to keep yourself from going stir crazy? I have a feeling the hours are going to pass pretty slowly until ten.”

  Mary pointed to three different places around the room.

  “TV… I get that. And definitely books. But what am I looking at over there?”

  Two bricks, a long strip of material with beads strung on it and a compact stool were piled neatly on a rug.

  Instead of writing her answer, Mary got up from the couch and walked over to the spot. She picked up the beaded length and started jumping rope.

  “Exercise.” Solina clapped her hands softly. “Keeps you in shape and gives you endorphins so you don’t get too down.”

  Mary impressed Solina at every turn.

  “And the other things?”

  She stopped jumping and picked up the bricks. She did a series of lifts to the front, sides and back of her body, ending with some raises above her head.

  Solina liked what she saw.

  After Mary had done several reps with the bricks, she lowered herself to the floor and onto her back. She positioned her legs under the stool and proceeded to do leg lifts, using its weight alone. Before she was through, she placed one brick in the center of the stool and did her repetitions again.

  “Neat,” Solina gushed. “The whole package. Cardio, upper body and lower body. Can I try?”

  Mary got up, but made a concerned circling of her face with her hand, indicating that Solina might hurt herself.

  “Yeah. You’re right. The thought of jumping up and down doesn’t actually thrill me right now. But I’ll try the other two things.”

  She exchanged places with Mary and did her smooth move to the mat. She heard clapping and looked up. “You like that?”

  Mary nodded enthusiastically, then pointed from Solina to herself and back.

  “You want to learn to do it? I can teach you.”

  Soon, the pair was practicing, joking, enjoying each other’s company. Solina would occasionally do something to jostle her jaws, but the pain decreased the more she used her facial muscles. The only thing that continued to sting and be extra annoying was her lip, which wouldn’t stop bleeding. They found some petroleum jelly in one of the bathroom cabinets and smeared it on, so at least it didn’t crack.

  Lunch was a short affair, considering their limited supplies, and afterward, they watched some ridiculous talk shows that had Solina shaking her head…when she wasn’t thinking about their escape.

  The day went by faster than she’d imagined.

  ****

  The S.O.S. team sat in Del’s equipment van a quarter of a mile from the address they’d been given. They parked in a conservation area that bordered a number of estate-sized houses, including Pietro Anestis’…although the owner was listed as Mary Anestis. Sarge brought the targeted property up on a computer satellite map, and they all studied the lay of the land and received their assignments.

  “You have your positions. I want each of you to scout your quadrant from the tree-lined perimeter of the property,” Del ordered. “Once you know you’re completely under cover and can’t be detected, I want eyes in every window. I’ll expect a room-by-room schematic of the house from all sides.”

  Wiley knew Sarge had attempted to find an architectural layout and interior pictures of the home, but the place had been built a century before computer plans became a thing. It had also been in the hands of the same family for so long, there were no real estate listings available.

  Del continued. “Our main objective is to locate Solina. Let the team know immedi
ately if you see her. Is everybody set?”

  “Yeah, boss,” they said as one.

  Wiley itched to move, but Del had more to say.

  “Once we have what we need, you’ll wait until the appointed time. I don’t need to remind everybody that this is a residential neighborhood, so suspicious activity will be noticed and reported. Go ghost and don’t get caught.”

  They slipped out, slowly, two by two. Del would stay behind and coordinate, as well as guard the van filled with valuable equipment and weapons. It would suck if vandals derailed their plans.

  Wiley was first through the woods, skirting several large homes. Luckily, it seemed like the owners on the cul-de-sac all liked their privacy, so none of the houses backed up to another without a healthy buffer of trees between. That wasn’t to say that Wiley didn’t have to scale several brick and wrought-iron fences, but those didn’t slow him down.

  Approaching his position from the rear, the first thing Wiley spotted was Solina’s car in back of a large, multi-car brick garage.

  “Her car is here,” he hissed into the hands-free mic hidden at his shirt’s neckline.

  His earpiece squawked to life.

  “Copy that,” Del returned. “Able to approach without visibility?”

  Wiley gazed around the enormous expanse of frozen lawn that lay between his hidden position and her car. “Negative.” He wanted to curse.

  “Then do not approach,” Del ordered.

  Wiley had already figured that out, but it didn’t make him happy. He continued around the perimeter until he had a clear line of sight past the garage to the house, then hunkered down in a particularly dense thicket. Dropping to his belly in the snow, he inched forward, making sure the metal on his gun didn’t glint in any stray sunlight before looking through the scope.

  His assignment was the driveway side, and contrary to what he’d envisioned, a lot of activity was currently taking place. “Unbelievable. Three cars and four tangos on the move,” he reported to the team, then paused. “Wait, five. No, six. Hell, there are a bunch of them going in and out of the house, loading boxes into trunks, and another three sitting in the driver’s seat of the cars. Give me a few minutes. I’ll try to get an accurate count.”