Not really helping.
Walid knocked Tony’s hand away, stood up, flicked open a knife. He stalked toward her. “Your brother can cry over your corpse as I did my brother’s.”
“Come on then, Wally,” Justice taunted. Please, Victor, understand the signal. “Let’s go!”
Chapter 72
The rickety mine shaft elevator rocked to a stop with a pop that spit out coal dust and congealed mechanical oil. Even the throat full of water Sandesh had chugged from Dusty’s flask couldn’t keep him from coughing.
He wiped his mouth and blinked his eyes clear. The short tunnel leading out to the compound was lit by a single, old-school light bulb. A group of four men stood at the mouth of the mine shaft with weapons drawn.
Dusty used his Glock 22 to motion Sandesh and Gracie out of the metal box and to the side of the wood-beam-supported tunnel. Sandesh shuffled out, head down.
Gracie did a good job of strutting out like she didn’t give a damn. Although Sandesh strongly suspected that was an act.
The waiting guards kept their weapons drawn, watched her more than Sandesh, but they really watched Dusty.
Whoever he was, Dusty had the respect of the men who worked here. He strolled out with an almost good-natured casualness. Of course, he pretended that Sandesh and Gracie were his prisoners. And though it wasn’t easy for Sandesh to trust this guy’s plan, if it got him closer to Justice, he had to take the chance.
Dusty spoke in Spanish to the men. He asked what was going on in the camp. They told him that Justice had been captured, captured because her brother had lured her into a trap.
Gracie made a small, pained sound. Sandesh’s hands clenched into fists. Fucking traitor. He was going to kill Tony.
Dusty didn’t miss a beat. With a flow of Spanish almost too quick for Sandesh to keep up, he told the men that he had a confession. He sort of felt bad about it, but facts were facts, and he still worked for the FBI. Yep, he told them, things were going to get very bad very quickly.
Guy had balls. Telling a group of men with guns trained in your direction that you’d basically lied, infiltrated their ranks, and tricked them wasn’t how Sandesh would’ve played it. Dusty even made sure to emphasize that the kidnapping of an American was a serious crime.
Not giving them time to consider shooting, Dusty appealed to their sense of self-preservation. He told them he didn’t want them in trouble, so he’d give them a chance to leave before the rest of his people showed up. In helicopters.
Dude was a good liar. The guards began to talk among themselves. Dusty didn’t let up. His Spanish was much better than Sandesh’s. “You boys will have to leave those weapons,” he said. “I can’t help you if you’re caught with them. If you’re caught without guns though, I can get them to let you go. No questions asked.”
Dude was a great liar.
The pressure built as the men began to argue. Dusty turned his gun on them. “Don’t be stupid. Leave the guns and go.”
Sandesh was pretty sure the air in the tunnel had gotten a lot more congested, what with the size of Dusty’s balls taking up so much space.
The men froze. Sandesh readied himself to act. A long, tense moment passed. A Mexican standoff, of sorts.
“Boys.” Dusty shook his head. His voice was the same casual, good-natured stream. “Come on now, get going.”
Slowly, the men placed their guns down on the packed dirt and backed out of the tunnel. Dusty turned to Sandesh and Gracie. “Let’s give ’em a little while to spread the word before we head out.”
Shaking his head, Sandesh bent and grabbed a semiautomatic rifle from the pile. “I’m not waiting.”
Tony was a dead man.
The shreds of his tuxedo pants flapping around his ankles—flimsy things weren’t built to take any kind of real movement—he stepped out into the night.
Chapter 73
“Come on then, Wally. Let’s go!”
Everything seemed to happen in one horrifying time-lapse instant.
Justice reached for her knife. Victor broke from the curtain, shot the thick-necked guard behind Tony.
With a slap as loud as the bullet that’d killed him, the guard slammed against terra-cotta tiles.
Still by the door, Cold Eyes jerked his weapon around and shot Victor. One, two, three times, hitting him in the torso.
Victor fell against the curtains, grasped at the gold sheets. They slid through his hands, and he slipped down in a bloody mess.
Justice’s knife sailed past Walid as he had the good sense to drop down, slamming his knee against a marble coffee table.
Walid was back on his feet in an instant. Guy must have a huge pain tolerance. He motioned Cold Eyes not to shoot and hobbled toward Justice with a sneer as vindictive as it was certain.
God. If he got his hands on her, she was going to die. In pain. Now would be a really good time for that poison to kick in.
Sensing the gun at her back, Justice braced her feet and spread her hands wide.
Walid’s eyebrows rose. He stopped short and grunted. The knife in his hands dropped. He reached over his left shoulder where Justice’s knife jutted out like an insult.
Holy shit. Tony had stabbed Walid. He’d hidden behind the tall fucker and stabbed him in the back of his neck.
Walid cursed, a bloody rumble like earth shattering against earth, then began to convulse. He crashed to his knees, lowered his head, vomited, and curled onto his side.
The remaining guard shot at Tony. Tony jerked to the side and dropped. The guard swung his gun at Justice.
Reinforcements burst through the doorway, three guards.
No. Not guards. Sandesh and Gracie with…
American Ninja Warrior?
Bam. Bam. Bam. Sandesh shot the guard who had his weapon aimed at Justice. He didn’t stop shooting until the guy was on the ground. Dead. Dead. Dead.
Sandesh moved into the room. His weapon now aimed at…
Tony?
Uninjured, Tony had faked his fall, crawled around the couch, and picked up the dead guard’s assault rifle. He now stood.
Tony and Sandesh had some serious weapons pointed at each other.
And Walid, whose nervous system was closing up shop, convulsed at the foot of the couch. A knife deep in his neck.
Gracie took charge. “Stand down, big guy,” she told Ninja Warrior who, Justice now noticed, also had his gun on Sandesh. “This is between family. Keep an eye on the door.”
To Justice’s utter shock, Ninja Warrior nodded once and said, “Okay, darlin’,” and did as she said.
What had just happened?
Gracie glared at Tony. “Drop the gun, traitor.”
Tony swallowed, put the gun on the floor, took three steps back, and held up his hands.
Sandesh rushed over to Justice but kept the rifle trained on Tony. “You okay?”
He was worried about her? He clearly hadn’t looked in a mirror recently. His face swollen, bruises over his ribs, his pants torn, his lips cracked and dry. “Did he…did they hurt you?”
Sandesh shook his head. He bent, ran his nose across her cheek. “Justice, are you okay?”
Warmth crawled across her skin and down into her muscles. Was she okay? “Yes. But…” She looked over Tony’s shoulder. “Victor.”
“Victor? Victor is here?”
Sandesh started forward. Justice stopped him. “Give me the rifle.”
Chapter 74
Sandesh handed Justice his weapon without hesitation. How the hell was Victor here?
Justice pointed the rifle at her brother’s chest. “Move to the side so Sandesh can help Victor.”
Sandesh walked across the room. Once clear of the couch, he saw him. Victor, dressed more scantily than Gracie, curtains cushioned his torso, blood covered his body.
Sandesh fi
sted his hands to keep from attacking Justice’s brother. He was well aware of the man’s eyes on him, the anger and frustration there. That made two of them.
“Fuck, Victor,” Sandesh said, dropping to his knees. “What are you doing here?”
Victor was conscious. His gun still gripped in his hand. His eyes widened. “Got shot.”
Sandesh nodded to acknowledge this was indeed true. Gracie was there instantly, handing him a bottle of vodka she had grabbed from a small rolling bar.
He poured the contents over his hands, washed them like a raccoon in a stream, then poured vodka onto Victor. Victor hissed.
“Don’t move, Tony.”
Sandesh looked up to see Justice had stepped closer and threatened her brother. Tony shook his head. Sandesh pulled Gracie’s attention from her siblings. “Gracie, could you get Walid’s knife, cut strips from the curtains, stop the bleeding?”
Gracie dove for the knife Walid had dropped, then rushed over to the curtains and started cutting one into strips. She made quick, tidy bandages and handed them to Sandesh.
Once he got the big bleeder tied off, he could see the wounds better. He patted Victor’s shoulder. “It’s actually not so bad.”
Victor made a fuck-you face and then said, “Fuck you.”
“Where’s he shot?” Justice said, having come around the couch. “I can’t see anything but blood.”
Gracie answered. “Thigh, skimmed, superficial. Arm. That’s bad. Some muscle damage. But it won’t kill him. And one into his hip. Barely bleeding, that one. He can make the plane ride back.”
“Hip bone,” Victor moaned. “Oh. I need that thing.” His head lolled back and forth against the tile. “I really need it.”
Sandesh patted him on the shoulder. “You’re going to live. And fuck. And samba.”
“Samba?” Victor said. “Racist much?” The slurred words ended when Victor closed his eyes and passed out.
Gracie and Sandesh continued to work to make him comfortable and stop the bleeding.
Dusty stuck his head inside. “The grounds are clearing out, but we need to get moving. I’m going to go look for a vehicle.”
He left. Gracie stood up, looked toward the doorway. “I don’t trust him. I should go with him.”
Justice reached into her pocket and tossed a key at Gracie. “Land Rover. Behind the stables.”
Gracie caught the key but shook her head. “It’s not big enough.”
Justice kept her weapon on Tony. “He’s not going with us.”
Gracie nodded and left the room.
Tony’s head fell forward. He let out a breath. “I’m so sorry, J.”
Sandesh was pretty sure sorry wasn’t what Justice was looking for.
Chapter 75
He was sorry? Oh, well. No problem then. “I don’t give a shit how sorry you are. What the fuck did you think you were doing? You betrayed us, the League. Momma. You betrayed the woman that rescued you from the gutter.”
“No.” He shook his head. He lifted his eyes to her. “She took me from the streets and made me kill people. That’s not saving me.”
“So what, you decided to join forces with a human-trafficker to teach her a lesson? Even if it meant betraying me?”
“No. I wanted to keep you safe. Take out these fucks myself.” He closed his eyes, opened them. “Momma. I told her you were too emotionally involved to execute the operation. She ignored my letter.”
“What?” The fucking letter. The thing must’ve been ten pages long. A fucking manifesto.
“Had to stop you. Then I’d do my plan. Take ’em out separate. Understand?”
She was beginning to. She didn’t like it. “You warned the Brothers Grim about us, sent them to Jordan to keep my mission from moving forward?” He nodded. “When that didn’t work, you sent the drones, so Momma would become afraid, let you move forward with your plan?” Again he nodded. “When that didn’t work, you gave them Sandesh.”
His shoulders tensed. He looked down at Sandesh then shook his head. “Dusty—the guy with the USA hat—tried to stop that.”
Dusty, a.k.a. American Ninja Warrior. “How the hell did you develop this bromance with that guy?”
Tony crossed his arms. “He’s legit.” He began speaking quickly. His south Philly rising. “FBI. Met him by accident. At a bar. Believe that?”
No. She didn’t. She’d look into it later.
“So you joined forces with some FBI guy. You had money. He had skills?”
“Basically. He was sick of traffickers getting ignored for drugs. Took what the government calls a hiatus. Came to work for me. He got in here. Worked his way up. Helped keep everything running. Until that shit at the massage parlor. After that, Aamir, the smart one, stepped in. He knew Walid had a leak here. Still, I thought I had it covered. I thought it would all end with Jordan. Only an unfeeling, uncaring lunatic would send her daughter to Jordan without back up, knowing the Brothers were suspicious.”
He spit the last. Literally. Spit flew from his lips. He was furious. And not just at Momma. At himself.
“You’re saying you did all of this—betrayed our family, my trust, the woman who rescued you—to keep me safe? But why?”
“Why?” His dark eyebrows scrunched together. “’Cause you’re the good one, Justice. With you I can laugh, feel, breathe. And that woman…that monster you call Momma—”
“Watch it, Tony. Watch it. I’m still not sure I won’t shoot you.” Her hands tightened on the rifle.
He began to laugh. “I wish you would. That’d make it easier.” He let out a long gust of air, sucked in an even longer breath. “She was gonna let you get yourself killed.”
He swayed, leaned a hand against the back of the couch. “It’s like you didn’t matter. Well, fuck, you mattered to me.”
Tears started to fall down his face. He was shaking. Angry. Sad. Broken?
“Really? You and Bridget conspired with Cooper, tracked me, and left the computer with a drug addict. That bit of brilliance almost got me killed.”
He shook his head, worked his lower lip between his teeth like he was going to bite it off. “Tracking was my mistake. Bridget didn’t know I’d set that up.”
Bridget. Justice had never suspected it could’ve been the two of them. Never.
“Needed to keep track of you. To not risk you, the family, the school. Know how hard that was? How much I had to work? I even saved that Juan guy for Dada. I did that.”
“Oh. Well. Brava. Way to go. Would you like your silver star pinned to your chest now, or would you like to wait for the ceremony?”
“Smart-ass,” Tony said. And he said it like it was a compliment, like it was love.
“And Coop? You brought him in on this knowing what he did. Knowing he was a drug addict?”
“Cooper?” He seemed confused now, groggy. “Told him he was helping. Told him it’d keep you safe. He was really trying, J. You know he was sober, right?”
He lifted his head, met her gaze. His hands shook against the couch. He fisted them.
“No. He was high as hell every time I saw him.”
“Nah. Think I’d of let him within a hundred feet of you if he was still using? No f’in way.” Tony’s eyes slid over to Sandesh, then back to her. He sighed like he had nothing else to lose. “I love you, J. Loved you from the moment you rescued me.”
Justice felt something in her chest crack. She held it back, held back the pain. No. Tony was a liar. “Like the way Cooper loved me? He left me to be tortured. He left Hope to die.”
Tony shook his head. “Lies. That’s what she does. Makes it so you only want the League. But your dad wasn’t all bad.”
He had to be kidding. Or crazy. “Yeah. He was. All bad.”
“No. Didn’t you ever wonder how Mukta found youse? Some rich woman in the Northeast found two girls
in Virginia?”
“The League.”
Tony leaned heavily on the couch. He was really trembling now, like a sudden fever had overcome him. “Come on, you know better. The League isn’t all powerful. Coop went to her. After being forced to leave you with his mother-in-law.”
“Forced?”
Tony’s eyes drooped. Then his head. He shook himself. Head and eyelids rose. “Court gave her custody. Man didn’t have a chance. An American Indian drug addict versus a white middle-class woman. No contest.”
What? Her father had been forced to leave her? To give her to that crazy woman? It didn’t matter. It didn’t change things. “He could’ve taken us. He could have run to the reservation. He knew what she was.”
Tony shook his weary head. “Wouldn’t a worked. Did what he could. Drugged as he was, found his way to Momma, a woman he knew adopted kids. And Leland. Told ’em about you.”
“Cooper? Cooper was the one who told Momma about me and Hope?”
Tony nodded. His eyes told a thousand things, a thousand secrets she had never guessed. She’d had it all wrong.
He sniffed. Coughed. “Yeah. He hung outside her office for three days, begging her and Leland to help. They finally listened. A day too late for Hope. But not for you. My. Justice.” He reached over and hit his chest. “This tattoo. ‘All for one.’ Is for you. You’re the one. You with the good heart. You really want to save people. Not Momma. Never her.”
Justice had to force her throat to swallow past the root of growing panic. “She rescued us. She rescued you.”
“No. You did. They set it up. They took even that from me. But you didn’t know that. You did what they knew you would.”
“What? Who set it up? Took what from you?”
Her throat went into lockdown. Alarms sounded in her head; doors closed in her heart; prisons sprang to life in her soul.
She lowered her gun. The salt of her tears kissed her lips. “Tone, why are you shaking?”
He looked up at her. He blinked. He jerked his head. “Oh. The patch.” He waved his hand. “Smeared it. Got no reason to live anyhows.”
I Am Justice Page 26