Finch (Kindred #6)

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Finch (Kindred #6) Page 21

by Scarlett Finn


  They needed Grant or Mitchell to be there. If they weren’t, the Kindred could kill or kidnap whoever did try to steal Rig, but it wouldn’t be as lucrative as holding the eldest McCormack brother. And if they didn’t get him, she didn’t know what would come next.

  Taking support instead of asking for it, she lifted from her seat to move into Zave’s lap. Wrapping his arms around her, she closed her eyes and rested her face on his neck. “It will all work out in the end,” he said, trying to make her feel better.

  Clutching the edge of his jacket, she pulled it closer to her. “It will all work out if we get your cousin. It will all boil down to who blinks first.”

  “The Kindred know how to hold their nerve. No one’s ever won a game of chicken against us.”

  Someone would shoot first. There were so many threats flying around that the whole scenario was one huge house of cards. All it would take would be one to shift just slightly out of place, and the whole thing would come tumbling down. If the Kindred exposed Syn, Syn would expose them. But if Syn followed through on their threats to put Brodie and Zave in jail, the women would be forced to retaliate.

  Zara was strong, they’d follow her lead, and as she’d said, as long as one Kindred member still drew breath, they would fight against Syn.

  Tipping her head back, she searched his gaze for answers. “You’ll take him back to the island? If you get him, that’s where you’ll take him?”

  Because she’d been so focused on her own role and Rig’s safety, she hadn’t paid much attention to what would come next. “Yes, Caine will go back to Syn and say he got away while Grant was kidnapped. We’ll take Grant back to the island because we can control that environment. We’ll see Syn flying in if they try to ambush us.”

  They had another issue that she hadn’t heard addressed in all the strategy building. “But if we go back there, the media will follow.”

  He didn’t let himself get distracted by that. From the way he’d taken everything in stride, she could see he was practiced at keeping his cool and wondered if there would ever come a time that she could be so detached.

  “The best way to cope with a Kindred op is one minute at a time. Anything could happen. Any opportunity could present itself, and if it does, we’ll seize it. We haven’t run out of options yet, shy. It’s more secure keeping him in a place we control, in a place that has facilities built to keep people captive.”

  People like her. She knew what he was talking about because she’d been a prisoner in that suite. The alternative would be keeping Grant in the apartment in the city, and it would be too easy for Syn to mount an offensive in such an urban place. The media could be lurking anywhere, there were a hundred faces on every street corner.

  It occurred to her that they were driving away, not only from her family, but from his. He hadn’t voiced opposition to playing babysitter, but he was capable of so much more than just looking after her because her nerves were frayed. “Don’t you want to be a part of it?” she asked. “A part of the op to go after Grant?”

  Apparently, he didn’t look at it from the same perspective she did. “I am a part of it and so are you. We all use our skills for the Kindred, and right now we’re going back to the apartment so I can pack up the build. I’ll work on the schematics until we get word we’ve got Saint in hand.”

  Horror made her blink and forget about the action playing out elsewhere. “You’re not still going to build it, are you?”

  Pragmatic before he was passionate, he kissed her head in a soothing gesture. “I have to assume that plan B, or C, or D may involve giving Syn what they want. I have to be ready for that. If they want Grant back, they’ll have to give us Game Time. Who knows what else those negotiations may lead to? If we decide we need to hand over what they’ve demanded or sabotage it, we’ll do it.”

  But Syn had laid out what would happen if the Kindred tried something like that. “They said they were ready for sabotage, that if Grant or Frank weren’t around to prevent—”

  “I heard what they said, but things change. Mitchell’s going to be angry when he finds out Saint was taken. There’s a chance he’ll tell us to keep his prized apprentice, and then we’re just stuck with Grant McCormack. We’re not going to cut him loose, are we?”

  Grabbing Grant had been sold to her as the answer to everything, yet now she found out it might not be. “So we’ll keep him prisoner forever?” she asked, but he settled her head against his body and ran his fingers through her hair as he turned his own eyes to the window.

  This conversation could go on forever because as he’d said, the game was about to change. The Kindred were about to regain the upper hand, and Mitchell would be mad. McCormack would be humiliated. Caine would’ve proven himself, or not. If they triumphed, they’d be back in the driving seat. If Caine betrayed them and proved that this was sport, Syn would know the Kindred had tried to double cross them, and that would never lead to a positive outcome.

  Closing her eyes, she began to worry not only for her brother’s well-being, but her husband’s too. Syn could arrange to have him snatched from her at any minute. If they got Rig and put Zave behind bars, she’d still be Kindred. Bess would look after her. Zara, Brodie, Tuck, and Kadie would protect her, but she wouldn’t have her home, which was right here with this man.

  “I love you,” she whispered, and it didn’t matter if he heard her. Caressing her cheek on his collar, she needed to be this close to him.

  Turned out, he did hear her. “I love you, too, but don’t start thinking that this is going to go to shit. You have to believe we’re going to win, and when we do you’ll see that the Kindred are confident for a reason and it’s not because we’re better, although we are, it’s because we’re right.”

  They were. They’d been put in this position by a group of men whose warped ideas could only lead to mayhem and murder. The Kindred were trying to put a stop to it before the mob got out of control. Devon was a part of the machine. Rig was, too, unofficially. And as terrifying as it was to think about that machine falling apart if one of the cogs fell loose, she began to see how, if they achieved their goal and reached their destination, they would have a lot to be proud of.

  The daunting mission would bring them all closer together. Closer than any typical family, blood or not, marriage or not. The Kindred priority one was to watch each other’s backs. Their foundation had been shaken when Thad betrayed them, but even that had served to solidify their bond. Those who remained were unshakeable.

  Devon would prove to her man and to her unit that she believed in them by following their orders, just as she’d done today. She just hoped she was capable enough to see this through to the end.

  EIGHTEEN

  Devon didn’t have to be frantic for long. They’d literally just stepped into the apartment when Zave got the call. The Kindred had Grant McCormack.

  Grabbing her, Bess, and Kadie, Zave bundled them into a car to transport them to the airfield. She didn’t know how Brodie and Tuck got Grant onto the aircraft, but there he was at the back of the plane, out cold.

  They might not have their doctor on side anymore, but they’d have learned enough from him to know how to incapacitate a passenger. He was left to roll around at the back of the plane, hog-tied. Although, Devon did look twice to register the rise and fall of his chest, confirming that they were transporting a live prisoner, not a dead one.

  Zave didn’t have a co-pilot anymore, but that didn’t slow him down. He went through his checks and got them in the air like this was any normal flight. The journey wouldn’t be long, but she felt like she waited a lifetime for somebody to speak.

  It was her brother who opened his mouth first. “Landed on your feet, sis,” Rig said. “All this shit belong to your man?”

  She nodded, half-remembering how impressed she’d been by the idea of a private jet before she’d experienced it. Still awe-inspiring and grandiose, the plane was immaculate. But she kept thinking about the man at the back of the plane, wond
ering when he would wake up.

  Brodie and Tuck had been hanging into the cockpit, talking for a minute. Now they’d moved into the armchairs that faced each other to talk some more. Kadie unbuckled her seatbelt and went over to whisper something to Tuck.

  “It’s over there,” he said, pointing toward a storage compartment next to the kitchen area.

  Kadie went over to retrieve a case, from which she pulled a laptop. Bringing it back to the table, she sat next to Devon again. There were four seats here, two on each side of a table. Bess was opposite Devon with Zara beside her, and they faced aft, while she and Kadie were looking toward the front of the craft. Rigor was seated on a couch that ran along the edge of the plane on the opposite side of the aisle from their table.

  Kadie opened up the laptop and turned it on. It booted almost immediately, and Kadie tapped in a password.

  “I’m surprised he lets you into that,” Rig said on a snigger then called out, “Where’d you keep your porn collection if your girl knows your password, Swift?”

  Devon had noticed a change in him since they’d gotten on the plane, and it was more than just being impressed at where they were. She could identify with the feeling of relief that the imminent danger had passed. But she could tell he was being swept along in being included by the Kindred. That had been what she’d wanted, for him to be accepted so that her old family could be a part of her new one.

  Except she saw now how that would change his circumstances. Her brother would go from being a low-level wise guy to a full-blown vigilante.

  Feeling the weight of responsibility, Devon had brought her brother into this, and throughout their lives, he’d been the one protecting her. She sort of wished she’d spent more time protecting him, because at least in his own world he was oblivious to this level of danger. She loved her brother, but he wasn’t as proficient as the Kindred.

  “Do you want me to use the headphones?”

  Devon had been transfixed by her brother’s smug, yet wondrous, expression that was still taking in the features of their environment. It wasn’t until Bess nudged her that Devon realized Kadie was talking to her.

  Snapping back into the moment, Devon frowned. “Headphones for what?”

  “She’s going to listen to the op,” Zara said. “It’s all recorded. You can’t see anything, but you’ll hear our communications.”

  “That’s our compromise,” Kadie said. “I stay out of Swift’s way when he’s in the field, but I like to catch up after.”

  “No, I want to hear it,” Devon said, kicking herself for not figuring out that the Kindred would have a record. With the amount of time that the men spent whispering with each other, it wouldn’t surprise her if they did a post-game study, breaking down each play and figuring out how they could be better, quicker and more efficient the next time.

  Kadie was much like her in that they didn’t have the experience or skills to be of great use in the field. For Kadie that meant hanging back, letting her man take the risks, but Devon’s man tended to stay on the periphery. She had no idea what his future would be if they were successful in their mission to take down Syn because his previous focus, other than KC, had been his missions with Thad. They were now a thing of the past.

  She didn’t get much time to analyze the possibilities because Zara’s voice crackled through the laptop speaker, and silence fell over them all. Listening to every step her brother took, she drew maybe six breaths throughout the duration of the recording.

  Zara declared through the tape that Rigor was on the move. Devon waited and waited to hear another sound. Brodie’s voice rose to state their target was in sight. Caine was present, too, and despite an exchange of trash talk between the men, the grab seemed to go down exactly as it had been described to her it would.

  Rigor took the path down the alley into the parking lot. On over watch, Zara whispered his progress to Brodie and Tuck as they shadowed his moves from opposite approaches to close in on McCormack in a pincer maneuver.

  Zara couldn’t shoot for shit apparently, but that was unimportant, as she was good at directing her men. As Grant moved in behind Rig, Caine backed him up. Zara was confident that Caine wouldn’t hurt the Kindred.

  Grant and Caine got even closer to their target.

  Saint’s triumphant announcement to Rig that, “Now’s the time to pay for working against Syn” was a short-lived victory. One second later, he cursed and said his younger brother’s name.

  From the audio, she’d guess that he was hit. Zara clucked at her lover and told him the punch was unnecessary, confirming Devon’s thoughts. “Give him the shot and let’s get moving,” Zara spoke through the speakers.

  Caine asked after Zara, and Brodie replied by telling the sniper to bolt before he took him down too. That was when the trash talk was exchanged for a minute. Caine laughed and seemed to crack his knuckles.

  “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve taken a swing at me. I’ll give you one for free to make it look good.”

  A fist hit a face in an abrupt smack. Male laughter followed.

  Devon couldn’t figure out who was laughing, but it sounded more friendly than perverse. “If you boys are done playing, pack up the cargo,” Zara said. “I’m on my way to you.”

  Those were the last words on the recording. Kadie turned it off and everyone exhaled.

  It was Rig sitting straighter that drew her attention away from the computer. He was no longer smiling. Clicking his tongue, he rose, and that was enough to get Brodie and Tuck onto their feet, as well.

  Scuffling from the back of the plane explained his actions, as Rig must have seen Grant wakening before he’d begun to move.

  Brodie strode past all of them into the rear cabin where none of the women could see. Kadie turned off the computer and stowed it in the bag, but when she thought about putting it back, Tuck marched over to snatch it from her and shoved her into her seat.

  “Don’t move from there,” Tuck said to his girl.

  Although he was serious, Kadie smiled. “I’ll move if I wanna move, Hotshot. But I’m ok with you picking up after me, if you bring me a glass of wine.”

  Tuck was already putting the laptop back in the storage compartment. “When we get to the island, you can drink as much as you like, Toots. But you keep your sass to yourself here.”

  Kadie’s amusement didn’t lessen. She rolled her eyes toward Zara, who was just as relaxed. Devon wished she felt the same.

  A body flew forward between the women’s table and Rig’s couch. Grant McCormack was awake all right. His mouth was covered and his hands were bound at his back, although his feet had been cut free.

  Brodie wasn’t far behind him. He shoved his brother onto the floor, then bent down to thrust a finger into his face. “You’ll stay on your ass if you know what’s good for you, Saint.”

  The tape over his mouth prevented Grant from retorting, although from the sound behind it, it was clear that he tried.

  Zara unfastened her seatbelt. “Take off the tape,” she said.

  Brodie didn’t entertain her request. “Not a fucking chance. I’m not listening to his shit.”

  Leaving her seat, she went to press herself into her husband’s side, and she began to stroke his ass. “We have to listen to it because you know what he’s like, beau. He has to say his piece before we get to say ours, and he’s going to be the key to our negotiating with Mitchell.”

  Facing the front of the plane, Devon could see each of the trio’s faces. Brodie was pissed, as uptight and impatient as he always was. Zara was smiling, not in joy, but in a coy kind of carnal secret that she shared only with her husband through her admiring gaze.

  Despite being on his butt beneath the couple, Grant’s scowling eyes were fixed on them. If he’d had a relationship with Zara, platonic or not, and hated her brother so much, it was strange to her that he would be so enamored with the couple.

  Maybe his fixation was defiance. Like they couldn’t make him look away just because they were
sharing a private moment.

  Tuck sauntered to his seat, which was near where Grant was on the floor. He poked his boot into Grant’s shoulder. “I say, we knock him out again.”

  “Agreed,” Brodie grumbled.

  But Kadie was on Zara’s side. “Let’s hear what he has to say,” she piped up.

  “Yeah, I wanna hear him cry,” Rig agreed. “This fucker wanted to hurt me. I say I’m owed. ‘Bout time someone kicked the shit out of him.”

  Everyone had an opinion. Devon didn’t voice hers, but she was curious about what Grant would say. Would he apologize? Make threats? There didn’t seem to be a point to bringing him forward into the main part of the cabin with the group if they were just going to gawp at him.

  “Don’t create a crime scene in midair,” Zara said. “We don’t have the chemicals to clean that shit up, and what would we do with his body?”

  Some of this had to be intimidation tactics, but Devon was sure they’d follow through if they had to. “Throw it out the door into the water,” Rig said. “Anyway, I didn’t say I was gonna kill him, I just want to rough him up a bit.”

  No one jumped to Grant’s defense, and Devon wasn’t surprised. “There’s gonna be time for that, and the line forms behind me when it comes,” Brodie said.

  Devon couldn’t see his face anymore because he’d turned to glare at his brother, but she could hear how angry he was at the man on the floor. Again, Grant tried to call out.

  Bess was the one to break the stalemate. “Oh, for goodness sake, all of you stop posturing,” she said. “You have to take the tape off. But Grant, you remember your position here.”

  Bess was the most senior member of the family, and everyone in the Kindred respected her. Devon didn’t know if that extended to Syn or the specifics of Bess’ relationship with this nephew. But with the added pressure from his aunt, Brodie bent to snag the corner of the tape to rip it from his mouth. Grant probably didn’t want to call out in pain, but he did.

 

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