Ambition 2: A Dark Billionaire Romance (Driven)

by Landish, Lauren

  The line cut off before I could say anything else, and I stared at it, horrified. Mark came in, toweling himself off, his face clouding immediately in concern when she saw me. "What was it?"

  "Male voice, calling saying they have Patrick. They want Tabby to go to Pressman Contractors by midnight or else he's going to be killed."

  I saw Tabby tremble, but then she found a core of steel, a strength that I hadn't seen before in her. It hadn't been there when Scott Pressman broke her heart, that was for sure. That Tabby would have crumbled, collapsing to the floor.

  Instead, I saw the new Tabby, the one who had grown stronger somehow. Maybe she just needed the love of family to be close by, I don't know. But she trembled for a minute, then turned to Mark. "You can get him back."

  Mark nodded, but his face was still dark. "Tabby, if they want you, they could anticipate me. They know the Snowman keeps an eye on you, I've intervened a few times on your behalf. They can't expect you to show up by yourself. In fact, you won't be showing up at all."

  "What? Like hell I won't," Tabby said, her spirit rising up.

  Mark looked at her calmly, but without any wavering in his eyes. I had expected sternness, but instead he responded with almost heart wrenching gentleness. He cupped her cheek with his hand, and shook his hand. "Tabby, if I have any chance of getting him out of there alive, I need to go in there not having to worry about anyone else. You, for all of your brains and all of your spirit, don't have the training. I'd be worried about you, and I can't have that. I have to go alone."

  "Would you have taken Sophie?" Tabby asked me, and Mark looked at me before shaking his head.

  "Nine months ago, yes. Six months ago, maybe. Not today," he answered. "I need you here. I need you and Sophie to act as my intel and feed me information. We're tapped into the city traffic cam network, I need eyes on target. When I hit, I'm going to hit hard and fast. If I do, I'll have a chance to get him home safely. But Tabby, it's only a chance. I can't give you a guarantee."

  Tabby nodded, her eyes hardening as she accepted her role in the mission. "I know. Then one thing," she said, taking his hand off of her cheek and clenching it in hers. "You kill each and every one of them you can."

  Mark looked her in the eyes for a moment, then nodded. "I'll be in the bell tower, getting ready. I want to leave within the hour, they won't expect a fast reaction."

  He turned and left, heading for the front of Mount Zion and the bell tower. I watched him go, my worry mixing with my love. I mean, seriously, how many men would be willing to lay it all on the line like he was for a woman who wasn't even his blood? Just because of how much Tabby meant to me and to him? Still, I knew what he was going into, and I didn't want a repeat of what had happened last time.

  Tabby read my face, and licked her lips, trying to know what to say. "I'm sorry Sophie. I should have asked you too."

  I shook my head. "You didn't need to, I would’ve told you that it wasn't something to even debate. We'll get him back, that's for damn sure. Come on, let me show you how the computer system can work."

  I could do more with the computers than just the traffic camera system. Using the specialized hacker computer that Mark had put together, and bouncing it off of a satellite uplink, I quickly hacked a weather satellite, which would for the next four hours tell NASA that it was having telemetry problems. While it wasn't as high resolution as a military Keyhole satellite, nor did it have quite as many tools, it still would give me live overhead feed of the entire outside of the Pressman building.

  "That's gotta be a few felonies," Tabby noted as I showed her how Mark had access to a weather satellite that he could use for monitoring under special emergencies. She fell into her normal relaxed demeanor. A lot of people took it to be Tabby not caring, but I knew from years of experience that when Tabby was joking, she was focused. It was her way of dealing with the stress.

  "You can add it to the laundry list. I think we're on notebook number two of them," I replied, firing up the systems. "All right, we are up and loaded, checking communications. Mark?"

  "I'm good," he replied over the circuit. "I'm just getting the last of my gear ready now. Leaving the normal Glocks behind tonight."

  "What's your load?" I asked, more for curiosity's sake as I pulled in the rest of my systems. I looked over at Tabby. "I want you on the monitor. Tell me as soon as you have an image, and I'll redirect it to zoom in on the city. It's run like you'd do Google Maps, so you can type in your destination and it'll take you right there. So what's your load, Mark?"

  "One Glock 18's, four clips for it, along with the MP7."

  "Not the MP5?" I asked, surprised. Getting ammunition for the MP7 was difficult, there weren't too many places you could buy the exotic 4.6 mm ammunition.

  "I'm going to need the armor penetration of the MP7. These idiots will have learned from the last times they tangled with me. They should be in full armor."

  I looked over at Tabby, who nodded. Just then, a rumble went through my stomach, and I looked down at my belly as a tightness spread through the muscles. I didn’t have time for this right now. "Ready. Tabby's going to be patched in, she's got eyes on the building."

  The system went silent for a bit as Mark left Mount Zion, and I heard him peel out in the SUV. He'd have the license plates covered, that was easy enough, but still, it wasn't his bike. I really wish we could have gotten another all electric multi person vehicle to augment his bike, but Mark had worried that if we did, it would give Mount Zion too much of a similarity to his signature as the Snowman. So, while the SUV was a hybrid, the engine did roar on occasion. I only prayed it wasn't going to happen on approach to Pressman Contractors.

  My belly tightened again, and I glanced at the clock. Nine minutes. Shit. "Tabby."

  "What?" she said, her eyes still glued to the screen. "I've got what looks like four trucks, but that's the same as last time. I see two men outside, no damn clue what's going on inside."

  "Tabby."

  "What?" she said, glancing at me. "What do you need?"

  "I'm contracting," I said, looking down at my belly. "Nine minutes apart."

  "Shit," she said, blinking. "Uhm, what the hell should I do? I mean, this is so not part of the birthing plan."

  "Don't tell Mark," I immediately said, "he's got to focus on the mission."

  “Okay. Here, give me the headset," she said, holding out her hand. Putting it on, she squeezed the send button. "Okay, Mark?"

  "What're you doing on the mike?"

  "Sophie wanted me to take over because I'm looking at the scene directly from the weather satellites," Tabby explained. "Where are you?"

  "Seven minutes out. What do you see?"

  "Traffic cams and overhead show four trucks, all but one of them Pressman contractor trucks. There are two men outside, one looks like he's carrying something, maybe a rifle or something. The other I can't see anything yet. Roof and backside of the building are clear."

  "They'll expect an attack at the rear then," Mark replied. "You can't get a visual of inside the building?"

  "No, bad angle for the cameras. Most I get is that the lights are on."

  "Understood."

  Another wave of pain rolled through my stomach, and I gritted my teeth. My daughter wanted out, and she wanted out now. The only problem was, while we had made plans for a home delivery with a local midwife, Mark was currently planning an assault on a building full of people, most of them carrying automatic weapons, while Tabby's fiancée was being held hostage. "Tabs."

  "Yeah babe?" she asked, turning. "How are you doing?"

  "This baby's coming," I replied. "Help me down onto the floor?"

  Coming over to my chair, the two of us kept an eye on the traffic cameras projected on the main wall of the room. My keyboard and touch pad were wireless, so that wasn't going to be a problem, I could still help in between contractions. This wasn't exactly the way that I'd wanted to have my daughter.

  Another contraction gripped my stomach in a steely grip
, and suddenly the floor beneath me was wet. Tabby sat back, her face an open O of surprise, and looked at me. "Uhmmmm...."

  "Get my pants off, get a bath towel from the hallway, and get back here quick," I said between short little breaths. "Looks like you get to be the nurse that delivers your goddaughter."

  Chapter 13

  Patrick

  My tongue felt thick, and the first thought that came to me was that I'd fucked up, yet again. Blinking, I tested my hands, which were bound behind my back. I was sitting in an office chair, but at least my legs were free. I was in the corner of what looked like an appliance repair shop, my back against the wall. Looking around, I saw five people, four men carrying automatic rifles, one paying attention to the large glass front, the other three focused on the steel door off to my left.

  The fifth was one of the most physically striking women I'd ever seen. She looked like every teen's fantasy from the pages of Playboy or the Internet come to life. Still, there was something in her eyes that said despite the beautiful exterior, this was one evil bitch. I figured it was time to do what I could to keep her talking. If anything, it was better than sitting there looking scared shitless.

  Smacking my lips to clear my mind, I just let my inner wiseass come out. "Hmm, you're not the Spartans cheerleader I'd expected."

  "Very funny, asshole," the woman said. "Know who I am?"

  "I'm thinking you all are part of an elaborate international plot, headed by a large headed genius lab mouse, bent on taking over the world."

  One of the guys with guns looked like he was about to hit me, but the woman held up her hand. "Don't worry, let Mr. McCaffery talk all the foolishness he wants. He's gets to talk a bunch of crap, then I get to get my revenge. I figure the better condition he's in, the better my reward."

  "What the hell are you babbling about, you crazy bitch? I've never seen you before in my life," I said. Part of my mind said I had though, but I couldn't place it. Perhaps it was the tranquilizers they'd shot me up with, I wasn't thinking too clearly yet. "What, did I piss you off at a campaign rally or something?"

  "You? Oh, you're more or less an innocent bystander," the woman replied. "I'm more interested in your girlfriend and her protector."

  So this was about Tabby. "If you have beef with Tabby, you don't need firearms, I think."

  "Oh, but I do," the woman said. "It was her friend the Snowman who took my husband away from me. Well, I guess not took away, but took away the thing that I loved most about him. It certainly wasn't his choice of careers."

  I nodded, the face clicking with my brain finally. "Melinda Pressman. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I don't do that when I'm tied to a chair with four armed men looking like they want to shoot me. Patrick McCaffery, but I guess you already knew that."

  "But of course. By the way, I heard from Shawn about your little threat to him. Guess that won't be an issue, so Francine's going to be happy about that. He's too valuable exactly where he is on the council," Melinda said. "Too bad about my husband though. Scott's the only other person who had that video file. Looks like he's going to have to be taken care of too."

  "You'd kill your own husband?" I asked, only semi-shocked. She looked like that sort of person.

  "Why not? He's useless to me as a man, the only way he can even climax is by having his prostate massaged. He's a pathetic husband, only wanting to spend his free time with his son. Never mind me, the woman who put up with his limp dicked ass. And now, he can't even do a simple job of sitting back and signing the goddamn paperwork," Melinda laughed, sitting back in her chair. "But don't worry. Soon enough you're going to be joining Scott in the limp dicked department. Too bad it won't be the same way it happened to him, though."

  "What do you mean?" I said. "You planning on just killing me too?"

  Melinda leaned back and laughed. "Oh, hell no. That would be too easy. The Snowman? Oh yes, he's going to die. I'd love to just cut his balls off too, but the fact is he's just too dangerous. You neuter that tiger, and you still have a maneater on your hands. But you, my dear councilman? You're going to have your balls cut off in front of your precious Tabby. Fake haired bitch."

  "Oh, like nothing on you is fake," I taunted. "Those tits had to cost what, eight, ten thousand dollars?"

  "Motherfucker, these are real, and they're spectacular!" Melinda spat back at me. "But you can probably tell that already. You know, it was pretty hard getting my body back in shape after the baby. It's going to be a few years before I'm totally ready to get back into the game, but when I do, I'm going to be better than Scott ever was."

  "What do you mean?" I asked. I knew, but I figured it was better to keep her talking. If she was talking, she wasn't trying to cut off my balls. Also, the four men in the room, despite whatever their jobs were supposed to be, couldn't help but be at least a little distracted by our conversation. I wanted to exploit that, and pushed the conversation in a more intriguing direction. "You're going to go back into the seduction game?"

  "Even more than I am now," Melinda replied. "You know that the number one search for porn by straight men is for MILFs? Well, give me a year or two, and I'm going to be the hottest one out there. All those young bank execs and business grads, those boys straight out of their MBAs who are getting in on their Daddy's company.... I'm going to have them eating out of the palm of my hand."

  I rolled my eyes and turned my head away. I didn't have to fake much at being repulsed by the idea.

  She started to get up, and I needed to keep her distracted. If what she said was true, then Tabby and most likely Mark would be coming. I needed the people inside not paying attention to the outside. I played a gamble. "I know why you really hate Tabby though."

  Melinda stopped and looked up at me, one finely sculpted eyebrow arching. "Oh? Please educate me."

  "You're jealous," I said simply. Melinda sat back down, and I could see one of the men by the window turn his head in our direction. I decided to play it to the maximum.

  "You're jealous because somehow, even though she was only with him once, Tabby captured your husband more than you ever have. I can understand though. She's more beautiful, sexier, and when we're making love, it's like nothing else in the world. You, for all your outer beauty, could never compare. Remember, I've seen you in action on tape. Hell, you needed a wannabe junior high girl to even get Shawn off. If you were as good as you say you are, you could have had him without needing a prop."

  "Asshole, you have no idea what you're talking about," she seethed, but I could see her fingers twisting in her lap. She was pissed off, and I pushed it further.

  "What was it that first told you? Was it when he was asleep, maybe having a dream and her name came out? Was it during those first few weeks after Snowman had done what he did, and you were using every little trick you knew? You obviously are skilled, but it just wasn't doing anything? He was probably trying to do his best to make up for losing his cock by using his hands and his mouth. A mumbled word as he caressed you, as you were trying to convince yourself it was still good enough, but then he said her name. That was it, wasn't it? You hate Tabby because your husband knew he'd never have better than her anyway. Huh, I wonder. Maybe his mental block would evaporate if he just thought it was her. Why not try putting on a red wig, losing the fake n' bake tan, and you might find that Scott's got a little more steel in the rod than you thought."

  "Motherfucker!" Melinda screamed, leaping to her feet and slapping me as hard as she could. Thankfully, I'd anticipated it, and could roll with the slap somewhat. That, and Sophie and Mark both had hit me harder in training, I barely felt it.

  I could taste some blood in my mouth though. I started chuckling, forcing the blood out to dribble from my lips. "Tabby even smacks harder than you do."

  She raised her hand again, when one of the men raised his voice. "Ma'am. Remember, Berkowitz wants him alive. We need to stick to the plan."

  Melinda's hand froze in mid-swing, and I saw that this time there was a knife in her hand.
Grinning through bloody teeth, I shook my head lightly. I wanted to taunt her some more, but I knew I was pushing my luck as it was. I had her distracted and angry, but if I pushed her any further, she might just not give a damn about Francine Berkowitz's orders.

  "Fine. I'll still have his balls for Christmas dinner," Melinda replied. "How's that for Rocky Mountain oysters?"

  I was about to reply, when suddenly the night exploded, and gunfire rattled through the air. I dove to the side, hoping that whoever the hell was shooting wouldn't aim at floor level. The office chair tipped over, and I impacted hard on my right shoulder, groaning when I felt my arm pop out of socket. I think getting shot hurt less.

  I couldn't see who was attacking, but I had my suspicions. Turning to the front of the store, I saw one of the gunmen down, while another three were already beginning to return fire.

  "Fuck it, I'll still get my prize," I heard, and turned to see Melinda Pressman coming towards me, the knife in her hand and a gleam in her eyes.

  To Be Continued…

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