by P. A. DePaul
Cappy scratched his chin. “He who protests too much . . .” He glanced at the clock. “We gotta move on this. If Victor gets detained, he’s going to raise Cain, and some idiot may just be intimidated enough to let the jackass go.”
Ted stepped in front of the tablet and plugged the hard drive in. He squiggled his finger over the touch screen and pulled up a file. He then bypassed Cappy and Sandra to kneel in front of a canvas bag resting against the fireplace. After rooting inside, he pulled out a bulky device.
Grady straightened. Holy crap. “Is that a sat phone?” It wasn’t exactly like the type he had used in the Marines, but it was similar.
“Close,” Ted replied, heading back to the computer. “It uses the technology of a satellite phone when it bypasses cell towers, but this has a few other features that make it very hard to trace.”
“So it’s untraceable?” Talon asked, his eyes following the black device.
“Nothing is completely untraceable,” Ted retorted. “But this makes it extremely difficult.” He clicked the file open and pulled up a document. “I can’t claim this invention.” He bobbed his head between the tablet and phone as he dialed a set of numbers. “But I will say it pays to keep in close contact with fellow MIT nerds who do this kind of stuff for fun.” He held the phone up. “Who’s doing the talking?”
Cappy thrust out his hand. “I am. Is there a way to put it on speaker?”
“Hit nine to finish the phone number, then tap that button on the side.”
“Got it.” Cappy speared everyone with a stern glare. “Zip it and stay silent no matter what you hear. Capisce?”
The squad answered, “Check,” in unison.
Grady leaned back against the counter and nodded.
One treble-laced ring filled the speaker.
“What the hell are you doing calling this number at eight in the morning?” a disgruntled male voice snapped.
Cappy raised the phone toward his mouth. “Hello, Senator Harris. I’m not who you think I am.”
“What? Who is this? How did you get this number?”
“I’m your new best friend.”
“I don’t have time for this.”
“Make time,” Cappy barked, then continued coldly. “You want to continue paying Victor Dalmingo until you’re broke, that’s your loss.”
Two heartbeats of silence, then, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So that fifteen thousand a month on your bank statements is truly a charitable donation to help the wildlife?” Cappy waited a beat. “You know it’s a bogus association, right?”
Silence.
“Thought so. I have evidence that can take Victor down for good.”
“Excellent,” Senator Harris enthused. “I encourage citizens to take action in their communities. You should visit your local police station with it.”
Cappy snorted. “You and I both know SweetBriar Group can’t come under their scrutiny. It would be bad for everyone.”
“Who is this?”
“My codename is Cappy, and two days ago Victor placed kill-on-sight orders on my entire team’s heads.”
Sandra’s skin paled further and she stared up at the ceiling, blinking. She stood alone in this group trying to appear so brave, but failing. He wanted to reach out to her, but knew he couldn’t handle the contact. As pissed as he was at the circumstances, he loved her too much. The second he touched her, he’d do something stupid, like beg her to stay.
“I’m fairly certain he also placed a KOS order on the inside source who escaped to bring us this proof,” Cappy stated flatly, holding Ted’s gaze.
The IT nerd blanched and flopped onto the bar stool.
Grady winced. The guy probably never thought his uncle’s harsh brutality would ever happen to him.
Cappy gripped the phone in front of him. “Victor is out of control and needs to be stopped. We’ve got solid evidence that can be taken to the Feds, but since I don’t exist anymore, I can’t use it . . . but you can.”
“Inside source, huh?”
Cappy smiled and rocked his fist as he mouthed, Got ’im.
“Yes, sir. His nephew, actually.”
Ted dropped his forehead into his hand, and Magician stepped forward. She gave him a small hug and swirled her hand over his back. She leaned over and whispered something in his ear. The guy’s ears blossomed red and he seemed emboldened by her show of support.
Cappy’s gruff voice broke through the small drama. “Think of the headlines when you announce how you had launched a private investigation and discovered he had ordered and helped with the deaths of his predecessors, Thane Milton and Sam Clover.”
The Senator’s breath audibly caught.
“Better yet, think about what you could do behind the scenes. You have the opportunity to push for oversight on the Black Ops side of SBG. To bring this powerful entity under control and make the changes it so desperately needs.”
Silence.
Cappy’s forehead creased, and Grady could feel the tension rising off the CO.
“SweetBriar Group is a privately held corporation with a Board of Directors,” the Senator finally said, his voice subdued but thoughtful. “The government cannot tell it how to run its business.”
“In a normal circumstance, I’m sure that’s true, but we both know that SweetBriar Group is anything but normal. I’m sure you’re creative enough to wrest control of the clandestine side without too much furor.”
Cappy glanced at the clock, making Grady peek too: 8:22 a.m. “I’m sorry to be blunt, but we don’t have much time. Victor’s been tipped off that we have some kind of evidence to use against him. He’s a flight risk.”
“Fine. Is what you have electronic?”
Ted nodded his head.
“Yes.”
“Send it to me. Use this e-mail address: [email protected]. That comes directly to my computer. Make sure you put how I can contact you in the e-mail. I won’t even entertain this evidence without it.”
“No problem.”
“I’ll have him picked up now. He can cool his heels in an FBI interrogation room while I review what you have.” The Senator’s voice stiffened. “I’m warning you, if it’s not what you promise, holy hell will rain down upon you.”
“Understood. Just get someone after Victor now. Check the airports and train stations.”
“I know how to do my job.”
“Let’s hope so for all our sakes.” Cappy jabbed the end button.
Ted typed furiously on the computer. Twenty seconds later, he stepped back and said, “Done. It’s in the Senator’s hands now.”
Chapter 48
Victor dropped his carry-on bag beside the front door and glanced at the multiple displays on his watch again: 6:42 and 9:42 a.m. He gnashed his teeth. Too early for the bank, but late enough to take care of some business.
He strode to the office and jabbed a number he now knew by heart. “Carlos? It’s Victor.”
“A little early for you, isn’t it?”
“I’m headed out of town in a few minutes and won’t be available to talk for a while.”
“That sounds bothersome.”
“Do you still want the information or not?” he snapped. This Hispanic asshole was going to the top of the list. Once he got his payment, he’d send a team to Miami to take him out.
“I’m sensing some desperation,” Carlos answered calmly. “I’m thinking I don’t need to pay you so much.”
“Now wait just a minute—”
“No, you shut your mouth. I’m doing you a favor by getting rid of this bitch for you.”
“What?”
“Oh, don’t act so innocent. I haven’t stayed the head of this cartel because I’m gullible,” Carlos stated coldly. “I know I’m not paying for just an address.”
Sweat beaded along Victor’s hairline. He eyed the corner of his luggage waiting for him. He should hang up and walk away. With all the money he had stashed around the world, he didn’t n
eed this two-bit lowlife’s cash.
“I’ve got to go. When I see the full two hundred thousand we agreed upon deposited in my account, then I’ll text you the information. Not a minute before and not for a penny less.” He slammed the phone down.
He stared at the receiver. He gave it two hours tops before Carlos’s need for revenge overtook his greed and he wired the money.
The next forty-five minutes were the longest in his life. He didn’t have the patience or frame of mind to wade through the minutiae of e-mails. About the only thing he could do was prowl the entire first floor with one eye on the clock.
Just when he thought he’d have to destroy something to let out his pent-up frustrations, the minute hand clicked to seven thirty.
“Seguaro Bank of Arizona, how can I direct your call?”
“Peter Calhoun for branch manager Estivo Goya, please.”
“Certainly, sir,” the perky female voice said. “Hold, please.”
“Mr. Calhoun!” Estivo answered robustly. “So nice to hear from you. What can I do for you today?”
“I’m about to head out of the country for a while. I need to make arrangements to have a large wire transfer coming in later today forwarded to me, as well as withdraw some cash.”
“Certainly,” Estivo effused. “What time would you like to come in? I can have everything set up for you by then.”
***
Carlos tapped a finger against the back of his cell phone and stared out at the ocean. The money didn’t matter to him. Two hundred thousand was nothing compared to the peace it would buy him if the information proved accurate. It was the high-handed, superior attitude that rankled.
Victor clearly thought of him as a lowly drug dealer, not as a businessman in control of a powerful empire. That insult couldn’t be tolerated, but—
“But I can’t wait anymore to find this puta,” he whispered.
A seagull flew by, screeching before it circled, then landed on his private beach.
“Hey, Tío!” Emilio yelled from the sliding glass door. “You on the phone?”
Carlos ground his teeth. If he was or wasn’t, would he honestly answer that bellow? He peered over his shoulder and motioned for his nephew to join him by the pool.
“What have you learned about that incident in North Carolina?” Carlos said when he sensed the boy approaching.
Emilio dropped into a chaise lounge near him and shoved a spoonful of shaved ice into his mouth. After a swallow he announced, “There may be something to it.”
Carlos sat up. “What? Why haven’t you told me?”
“That’s why I’m here,” Emilio replied, spooning another gob of purple ice in. “Just got a call from one of the regional supervisors. He said that a pair of FBI agents arrived. Shut the local police out to investigate themselves.” His tongue darkened with each bite.
“So you believe there is some legitimacy.”
His nephew shrugged. “I’d call it the best lead we’ve had so far. My contact from school said that you and his source were talking directly so I won’t get any more information from him.”
Victor’s offer rang in his head again. He needed to swallow his pride and seriously consider paying the pendejo. But first he’d do a little investigating on his own.
“Contact the local enforcers and have them pick me up at the closest private airstrip, then contact my pilot and tell him I want to be airborne today.”
***
Ted sat on one of the few remaining dining room chairs and sliced open a third large box. He inspected the contents, then pulled out a full-size laptop and opened it on the table. When Sandra had come in last night, Cappy, Romeo, and Magician had swept the hardwood floors and cleaned up all the debris covering the furniture. The oversized demolished items had been stacked in the garage, and the maimed items were repaired as best they could—some even sporting the oh-so-classy silver duct tape.
Romeo had placed the last of a stack of boxes Ted had shipped cross-country in the corner, but Sandra couldn’t calm down enough to stay and help. Between Talon’s bombshell during the fight, her breakup—for lack of a better term—with Grady, and the soul-shattering good-bye kiss, seeing Mars’s olive-green canvas bag beside the boxes had done her in. That bag represented everything her life had stood for up until Mexico, a sniper’s best friend when concealing her weapon. She knew if she opened it, there would be a compartment or pocket for every component of the weapon, plus some extras “just in case.” Like an infrared scope or night vision.
Sandra turned away from it now and smoothed a hand over her jeans. The stitches in her shoulder pulled like crazy and stung when she wasn’t careful.
Grady strode in from the hallway, adjusting a royal blue polo. “I can’t just sit here and wait. I’m going in to the center to keep a watch over it.”
Romeo slid off the bar stool. “Count me in. I don’t have much on my calendar at the moment, seeing as how my job wants me dead and all.”
“We’re all in,” Cappy announced, swiping his keys off the side counter. “Until this is over, we’re not letting you out of our sight. We can wait for Senator Harris’s call there just as well as here.”
Sandra gripped her hands together. She had been fired a few days ago; was she allowed back in?
Grady passed her, his gait stiff and his face not giving her much to go on. I can’t be with you other than professionally. It’s just too hard. His words rang over and over in her head. He was completely right, and she respected him more for them, but still, an unfair part of her wanted him to resume the easy friendship they had developed before this all came out.
“I need fuel,” Talon said, opening the kitchen door leading to the garage. “I’ll meet you all there.” He disappeared, and the motor whirred on one of the bay doors seconds before his Ninja roared to life.
Yeah, she definitely was too raw to handle the delicate conversation she’d have to have with that man today. She had a feeling that no matter how she put it, he wasn’t going to take her not loving him back the way he desired very well.
***
Romeo rubbed his hands together. “Who’s got cash so I can get some tokens?” His head swiveled as he perused the different sections adjoining the main entrance. “I see some games in the Arcade I’ve been dying to try. Anyone sucker enough to challenge me?”
Sandra couldn’t help but laugh at his infectious aura. His smile spread from ear to ear, lighting up his face, and he all but vibrated excited energy. One of the very best things about working here was witnessing that same reaction when a person walked in for the first time. It was always the same: eyes enlarged, grin spread wide, and head rotating as if trying to figure out where to head first.
“Impressive setup,” Cappy said, slowly pivoting on one heel.
“Thanks,” Grady replied, his hands in his jeans pockets and a smile filling his face. “Gradwick didn’t start out this way, but over the years I’ve been able to build it out how I envisioned it.”
Two men with gray overalls wandered past. One carried an oversize toolbox while the other spoke on the phone. By the grease and dirt on their hands, they had just completed or were in the middle of maintaining one of the pieces of equipment. Good to know I’m paying for actual services.
“Can we have a tour?” Magician asked, pulling her gaze away from the up and down escalators off to the left.
“Sure.” Grady faced the group and pointed to the left. “Through those side doors are the outside go-kart tracks. I’ve currently got two different courses, but would like to add a third eventually.” He pointed to the escalators. “One escalator will take you up to the laser tag floor. That section is two stories tall, with an observation room built near the ceiling for parents to watch their children play. The other escalator will take you down to the inside go-kart track and the bowling alley.”
“Okay. I’ve found my replacement career,” Romeo quipped, raising his hand. “I’ll empty trash cans, but I don’t clean bathrooms. You can pay me w
ith free play.”
Magician smacked him, then said to Grady, “Ignore him. Go on.”
“What? I was serious.”
Her teammate shot Romeo a shut-it look, but he just grinned in return.
Grady chuckled as he continued, “As you can obviously see, behind me is the central eatery, which stays open the entire time the center is open, and behind that is going to be a miniature golf course. Construction isn’t quite finished, but I’m hoping to unveil it by Thanksgiving.” He pointed to the right. “Taking up the whole right side of the building is the arcade, which has a set of doors leading to the outside paintball arena as well as the employees’ entrance in the back.”
Two raps echoed off the glass front door.
Everyone turned in unison. Talon stood clutching his helmet and bracing the other hand on his hip.
Ted shot Grady a what-do-you-want-me-to-do expression since he was closest, and Grady motioned for him to let her teammate in.
“I walked the perimeter after I pulled in,” Talon said the second he stepped inside. “We’ve got a patch of woods out back, not real thick. Some Dumpsters by the edge of the parking lot and wide open space beyond that.”
“Check,” Cappy replied, turning back to Grady, who quickly erased the annoyed expression on his face.
These two are definitely not going to be exchanging Christmas cards in the future.
“Ready to see mission control?” Grady asked, taking a step backward.
“Lead the way.”
They all filed through the Employees Only door, and a pang gripped Sandra’s heart. Her office sat near the end of the hall, just before Grady’s. A place she actually thought of as her second home. A space where she had been allowed to live out her do-over fantasy without the drama of SBG ever being in her life. She already missed that person who sat in the leather chair and fretted over figures and construction turn times.
Cappy followed her into the Security Room and whistled. “Nice.” He scanned the room with his hands on his hips. Dim lighting kept the room from being totally dark, but wasn’t so bright that it reflected off the wall of wide-screen TVs. A long security desk stood in the middle of the room with a bank of computers along the top. One guard sat at the center station, alternating his attention between the TVs and their group.