The Law of Motion (Law Series)

by Di'Nisha Robinson

  An unfiltered male voice demanded angrily, “Put on Adrian Harris.”

  “Asshole.” She muttered sliding the speakerphone over to me before looking up at the screen, watching the signal scramble the towers trying to find a source of origin.

  "Harris,” I snapped looking around at the rest of the room when Tink urged me to answer.

  The voice wasn’t the dick that snapped at Tink, but a somewhat excited voice belonging to Alyssa. "Hey, baby!"

  "Shut her up," the guy demanded and I froze listening to the background.

  There were some muffled grunts before a man’s cries of pain echoed over the phone. "Alyssa?" I called somewhat relieved to hear she was alive, and worried when there was nothing but silence.

  She sounded a bit more strained when she responded still sounding far away. “Hi honey! How’s your day going?”

  That got a weak laugh from Macon, because it sounded like she was the victor of a struggle. I could hear the guy ordering someone to help the man but he seemed to refuse, as if he were afraid.

  “No way man, so she can break my fingers too.”

  Dario smirked. “Sounds like Giselle is making things difficult for them.”

  The last thing we heard before the phone went completely silent, as if it were muted was the guy ordering, “Shoot her if you have to.”

  “Where the fuck did she go?” Hunter asked after ten seconds went by of nothing.

  Tink looked up at the map and then back at the computer. “The calls still going, he must have silenced the other end. Stay on.”

  “Honey, are you alright?” I called louder. Sound filled the room again and my heart restarted.

  “I’m fine, just teaching little Myles how to keep his hands to himself.” She informed before there was another cry.

  My dad whispered to me, “Son, maybe you should encourage her to just stay put, we don’t want these guys to hurt her before we get there.”

  I agreed, because even though I wanted her to kick everyone’s ass in there, if she got shot in the process it wouldn’t help things. So I halfheartedly chided. “Stop attacking your captors, Honeyface.”

  "Well, now you have proof of life, asshole," the guy snapped over the phone. "She fucked up, Harris. She was supposed to come alone, not to mention she just fucked up Myles’s hand."

  I couldn’t help my own chuckle with that one, "And you were supposed to bring those boys but...you didn't.

  "I assume you've got them now," He snapped back.

  I tried to hide my amusement. "Oh, I do, and I have a message for Myles."

  "What's that?” Another far away voice yelled, and I recognized it immediately.

  "I will personally see to it that you die," I swore.

  "Who the fuck are you?" The other guy asked again, this time more angry.

  "People you should have never fucked with," I replied. "Now, give me your demands for the return of Alyssa, and I'll think it over."

  "Thirty million. Thirty million and you'll get her back."

  It’s a good thing we had a full crew of trained killers, because Alyssa and I didn’t have thirty million. Five or ten, maybe but thirty no. But I couldn’t let them know that. “We’ll see...but know this... If one hair is out of place on her head, if there is one bruise on her, if she has a fucking paper cut, I will see to it that you suffer. It will be long, slow, and very, very fucking painful. I shit you not."

  There was silence over the phone for another second, because I wanted him to know that I was in control. “Call me back in twenty-four hours with the time and place, and you'll have your answer," I left one more message for the love of my life. "And one day, Alyssa...I'll do it again. I did it when we met, and I'll fucking do it again. Warn them if you want, Honeyface. It won't matter."

  I hung up completely certain that I’d get her back. Us getting together had been a war with a shit load of obstacles, and this was nothing compared to that. This was known territory; this was doing what I did best. Extraction.

  "Thirty million?" Kristen asked no one in particular. "Damn."

  "He won't see a dime," my dad answered her, placing a hand on my shoulder as I hung my head. "She sounded okay, son," he soothed softly. "Tomorrow night," he stated, turning to the room filled with fucking people. "By the time this asshole calls again, we'll be on his front doorstep."

  “We can pay it, if you’d like.” Tink mused aloud. “But he would probably just screw us over again.”

  Doc scoffed, “And how are we going to do that?”

  Kristen agreed with her. “Chance would kill us if we went to Paul.”

  “We wouldn’t have to go to Paul,” Tink informed. “I have it.”

  Everyone’s mouth dropped at this information, including Jackson’s. “Sugar, you have thirty million dollars?”

  She looked around at our faces, “A bit more.” She replied sheepishly as if she said something wrong.

  Macon repeated what she said. “A bit? I need to ask Chance for a raise.”

  Tink just nodded before going back to her work. It was my guess that she used the money she took from the New York Stock Exchange as a child and flipped it enough times over the years to make probably a shit load of money she didn’t use. The money that she refused tell anyone what happened to it. “Thanks Tink, but these guys have to die. No questions about it.” I responded. “So let’s get back to work.”

  ———————

  When everything was planned down to the last detail, we all turned in for a few hours of rest. I plopped tiredly on the couch after throwing my keys on the table. There was a part of me that knew I'd sleep better in my bed—funny enough that voice in my head sounded like Alyssa's— but I just couldn't find the heart to sleep alone in a bed that I shared with her. The mere idea made a hole crack open in my chest.

  I heard a shuffle of feet from the hallway, and I glanced up to see Juan standing there in his pajamas, Mr. Bear firmly clutched in his arm. Ross and Doc were still asleep in the other guest room.

  "Hey man, what are you doing up so late?" I asked softly, opening my arms when he ran to me.

  "I miss Tia," he mumbled, crawling up into my lap.

  I sat back on the sofa. "Me, too," I whispered, tossing his hair. "But she wouldn't want us upset, little buddy."

  He frowned up at me. " Mommy says you're going to find her."

  "I'm going to try," I said, trying not to promise anything, because I was trying my damnedest not to get my own hopes up, not to mention his. "In fact, your mommies are too, and we need you to be brave and stay with Miss Joanne tomorrow."

  "I want to go wif you, guys," he stated, not at all pleased.

  "You can't, buddy," I groaned, realizing that Doc or Ross should have probably had this talk with him. "I need your help here."

  His eyes widened and he tilted his head at me. "Wif what?"

  “You have to keep Joanne company, because Poppy is going, too," I explained. "So she'll be very worried, and you have to take care of her. Makenna is going to be there too because Uncle Macon is going to need you to keep her safe. Can you do that for me?"

  He frowned again, his little brow wrinkling, but he studied Mr. Bear. Finally, he nodded. "Okay."

  "Okay," I sighed with a nod. "Good boy," I praised softly. "You should be in bed."

  "I'm not sleepy," he said, as a large yawn erupted from him.

  "Hmm, I see that," I snickered, reaching over to grab the remote for the TV. "You want to stay with me?"

  He nodded bleary and silent as I flipped through the channels. “Will you tell Tia I did what she said?”

  I nodded rubbing his head again. “Juan, that will be the first thing I tell her.”

  

  I opened the door upstairs, taking my keys out of my pocket. It was one open room that extended the length and width of the lobby beneath us. It was set up with a bed, a bathroom with a shower, and on the other side a workspace for Doc in case of medical emergencies, which was pretty much now a place wh
ere she and Tink could experiment since there were no medical emergencies. Along the far back wall was a line of double locked cabinets—cabinets that had nothing to do with Tink and Doc’s hobby.

  "Okay, load up," I ordered, stepping away from my own personal cache of weapons, Kevlar vests, and ammunition.

  "Excellent," Macon hissed, dodging past me to start handing out equipment to everyone.

  I grabbed my own things, including an automatic rifle, ammunition, and a long, sharp bowie knife. I tossed my keys to Macon, telling him to lock it back when he was done. I walked back downstairs, setting my shit down on the conference table. I was about to retrieve my Glock from my office when Cam piped up.

  "We have a problem," he stated, spinning around from his computer. "Well, two problems."

  "What's that?" I asked, glancing up at my father and Victor, who were readying their own personal weapons, but we all gave Cameron our attention.

  "We've got a storm moving in on that area," he said, pointing to his screen. "Heavy rainfall, very little wind, and possible hail. It'll make traversing that mountain difficult."

  "So we get wet," Victor grunted, shrugging a shoulder and strapping on his harness. "What's the second problem?"

  "Still no sign Of Chance’s GPS chip," he sighed, looking rather forlorn. "I don't know if it's because she hasn't activated it yet, or if the signal isn't coming through the lead of that bomb shelter."

  "Is there still activity around it?" I asked, tucking my black cargo pants into my boots and lacing them tight.

  "Yes!" Tink called over her shoulder from the computer room. "I really think she's in there, Adrian."

  I nodded, lacing up my other boot, and stood up straight. "I trust you, Tink. It's mine and Macon's number one destination. Jackson, Ross, and Dario are taking the barn."

  "Jeff, Victor, Phil and Spike will start at the buildings on the west end of the property," my dad said, pointing to the aerial shot on the wall. "Danny, Hunter, and Doc will handle the guard shack and the gate; Ned, Harry, and myself will take the main house."

  "We'll be coming in from all sides," Hunter explained. "You girls need to know this, so you understand what you're watching on these night vision cameras you've rigged on a member of each team."

  Kristen and Tink both came into the main area to listen to him.

  "We'll be coming in from all sides of the property," he said again. "Tink, you'll cut the power and communication on our signal. Cameron, you'll be monitoring our communication, making sure we don't stumble over each other." Once they both nodded, he went on. "We're going in as quietly as we can. As soon as the power goes, they may react."

  By now, the whole office was filled with men dressed in long sleeve black tees, black cargo pants, and black military grade boots. Some had already donned their vests, some were strapping on knives or grenades, and others were just listening.

  "This is my mission, so I'll warn them, tell them to drop their weapons, but if they don't, then you have my permission to defend yourself. Spike," he called, and a rather large, rugged man with a bald head about Vic's age stepped forward. "Careful with those out buildings, because there may be more inside. Victor, that guard shack may be where the alarm is activated, so if you...take out the guards, then so be it." He turned to my dad. "That goes the same for you, Liam. The house may have a trigger, as well, so do what you have to." He sighed, glancing around the room. "If for some reason, an alarm is triggered, we will be at war."

  We all nodded, because we all knew from experience that shit could go all sorts of fucking wrong on missions such as this one.

  "The primary goal here is to get Alyssa out of there," Hunter continued, gesturing to me and Macon. "The secondary goal is the capture and arrest of Zoe Nowak, Terry Windsor, Myles Thompson, and Kris Powell," he stated, pointing to the pictures along the wall. "Though, I won't shed a tear if one of them happens to become a casualty." Once more, he glanced up at the group of us. "Those of you that aren't under my legitimate command, this never happened. Those of you that are," he said, looking at Spike and Phil, "Well...you know how this shit works. Do your job and keep your mouth shut about everything else." He clapped his hands once. "We need to go..."

  The office door slammed open, and Juan dodged black clad legs left and right in order to get to me. "Unca Adrian," he huffed, “You can't leave yet," he panted, and I guessed he'd run all the way from the car.

  "We have to go, little guy," I told him with a sigh looking to Ross.

  "You forgot your hat," he said, holding it up with her other hand.

  I grinned, ignoring the chuckles from around the room. I grabbed it from him, putting it on backwards like I did before every mission, "Thank you," I whispered, giving him a wink. "Now can I go?"

  “Not wif out mommy,” He protested just as Doc walked in. She was wearing full gear, and to my surprise without a bit of trouble.

  Phil and Spike both looked back at Hunter with a surprised look, and he just smirked at her. “Phil and Spike, this is Doc.”

  “And she…” Phil waited, and I could tell it just dawned on him that Doc was a woman.

  Doc ignored him, lacing her boots and checking her ammunition. She was wearing exactly what we were, apart from a pack on her side. I was sure it held her tools and the most important medical supplies.

  When no one answered him she looked up. “Oh, sorry I’m medical.” She apologized after checking all of her equipment. Her hair which was normally in long waves down her back, was now all away from her face in a single braid and tucked underneath a solid black cap, the bill pointing to the right.

  “You ready?” Hunter asked knowing that if anything happened to her, it was on his head.

  "Yes," she grunted, nodding her head once before walking with us to out to the old military truck Ned and Harry showed up in.

  Macon whispered behind me as he watched her. “What do you think about Doc going?”

  “She certainly looks like she’s ready to handle it.” Jackson noted in a whisper.

  I sighed, “In regular conditions it was already dicey, but this storm and shit man, I don’t know.”

  Macon nodded. “Her mind’s set. How do you feel Ross?”

  Ross was watching Hunter talk her through the automatic rifle, something she’d only been shooting the past two days. But she nodded intently, putting it over her shoulder and swinging it to her back like we all did. I had to elbow Ross to get a response. “Is anyone else turned on?” She questioned snapping out of her daze.

  Macon chuckled and Jackson shook his head. “Ross.” He chided climbing into the back of the truck.

  “I’m just saying.” She argued pulling in behind him after hugging Juan goodbye like the rest of us.

  Juan seemed to have a harder time saying goodbye to Doc than the rest of us. But after a few words longer, a few extra kisses, he went to Joanne willingly. She swiped her eyes getting into the back of the truck with us. “You ok?” I checked.

  "We gotta go, or he's gonna lose it," she muttered to my dad, who nodded and banged on the back of the cab.

  "Ned, get moving," he ordered, and the truck rumbled into life as I sat down beside Jackson.

  I gave Juan one more wave, before tugging on my vest and watching Joanne soothe him. I heard one more cry of "Mommy!" before we pulled out.

  "Fuck," Doc hissed, rubbing her face feeling the guilty of leaving him without either parent.

  "He'll be fine," Ross said kissing her face and rubbing her hands... "He'll be baking cookies before the night is over."

  I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I hope so” she sighed, leaning back.

  ———————

  I ran a hand through my hair as we approached our destination. We'd had to pull over when Terry called for the second time and Tink patched it through, shutting down all noise from the engine of the truck. My name had never sounded so sweet, yet so scary, coming from Alyssa. Ever.

  She sounded exhausted and scared. She sounded pissed off and just fucking over it.
Most of all, she sounded like she needed me.

  A hand landed on my shoulder, and I looked up to see my dad handing over the face paint. We were going in as quietly as possible, traveling through a fair amount of forest, so I had no alternative but to slap black, green, and brown on my face. It was thick and greasy feeling, adding to the sweat that was already beading on my forehead and upper lip, but I smeared it on anyway.

  "Do you remember stealing mine when you were little?" Dad asked, chuckling a little. "You were about Juan’s age."

  I grinned, nodded, and looked over at him. "Yeah, I do. Mom said it took an entire tub of her face cream to get the shit off."

  He laughed, as did Jackson and Macon, who were sitting closest to us.

  "You used all of it, that's why!" my dad snickered, still shaking his head at the memory. "She sent me a picture."

  I nodded and looked in the mirror Macon was holding up. I made sure that my neck, around my eyes, and my ears were covered. "She couldn't even punish me, because she was laughing too hard." I looked up at Jackson and Mack and said, "He had this whole stash of the coolest shit in the back of their closet. I was looking for my birthday present, but found his gear, instead. I came out of her room wearing Dad's boots, jacket, and an entire tube of face paint. I had that shit everywhere...including the walls of the closet and her clothes."

  They cracked the fuck up. "Oh, please tell me you still have a picture of that," Jackson begged.

  My dad chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I just found it again the other day. I've been meaning to show it to Alyssa. I think she'd like it."

  I groaned, shaking my head. "Oh, I'm sure she would. Where was it?"

  "In a box at the old house," he chuckled. "I hung that picture in every locker I've ever had. It traveled more than any other picture your mother ever sent me. It saw several tours and more countries than I could count."

  I smiled over at him, thinking Joanne, had softened the old man, because a few years ago, he'd never have told me that shit. I knew he loved me, that he was proud of me, but it wasn't something he showed when I was younger. After my mother left, he had to retire from the Army to be with me, and we became close in our feelings of loss. He'd taught me guns, and I'd taught myself how to cook, in order to avoid fast food and pizza everyday. He taught me a love for cars, helicopters, and he fed my passion for building things, telling me that every man needed a hobby to get away from shit. He would say, "I'm proud of you, son," quicker than he'd say, "I love you," but I knew they meant the same, he would squeeze my shoulder instead of giving me a hug.