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Wicked Nights

Page 16

by A. D. Justice


  “The only people who can’t be there are Mom and Dad,” she said sadly. “I can’t believe my parents will miss my wedding, and my daddy won’t be giving me away.” Steve began the new treatments the week after he moved to Texas, so there was no way he could travel so soon. Even if he were still close by, she realized he might not have the strength to walk her down the aisle after taking the strong chemotherapy drugs.

  By the time she finished verifying all the details of her idea, she was convinced it was the perfect solution. “Time to get Brianna on board.” She smiled. “Then Noah won’t have a choice but to say yes.”

  An hour later, she called Brianna and gave her the details of her grand idea. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think…” Brianna paused. “It’s brilliant. I can’t wait. This will be an epic wedding, and I’m so jealous I didn’t think of it first. Now Noah and I have to get married again so I can do it, too.”

  Chaise burst out laughing. “Do you really mean that? You like my idea?”

  “Seriously. I love it. I think Bull will, too. I absolutely cannot wait to see this wedding.”

  “Can you help me convince Noah that we don’t have to wait until the case is over?”

  “He won’t take much convincing, Chaise. He loves you and he loves Bull. He wants you both to be happy,” Brianna replied.

  “I know he does. But I also know he’s very focused on this case and may need some convincing that he’s allowed to step outside of Miami for a little while.”

  “Leave that to me. I’ve got your back,” Brianna laughed. “Speak of the devil. He’s just getting home now.”

  “Oh my gosh, go work your magic on him and let me know what he says later,” Chaise said hurriedly.

  “Okay,” Brianna laughed. “I’ll talk to you later. I’m so excited!”

  “What are you excited about?” Noah asked as he walked into the kitchen. “Excited because I’m home and you missed me today?”

  “That’s a given,” Brianna cooed. “I miss you every day when you leave me. And I’m always excited when you come home.”

  “Who was that?” Noah asked after he made her dizzy with a thorough kiss.

  “Your sister,” she replied. “She’s made a decision about the wedding. It’s a destination wedding and she’s moving the date up. We’ll have to go out of town for a few days.”

  Noah pulled his face back to look Brianna in the eye. “With this case still open?”

  “Yes, Noah. Turan has turned our lives upside down enough. We all need some normalcy, some semblance of security. This will be good for everyone, including you. We need the break, and you and I need some time alone before the baby gets here,” Brianna explained.

  “I love the sound of that last part.” Noah flashed his sexy smile. “Where are we going?”

  “If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone else. Especially Bull,” Brianna warned. “Chaise wants this to be a surprise for him.”

  Noah slowly lifted one eyebrow in amusement. “This should be good. I can’t wait to hear the details. Tell me all your secrets, princess.”

  For the following half hour, Brianna explained every detail of the destination wedding, how they’d get Bull there without actually telling him where they were going, and about the premier package Chaise had picked out.

  “I’m telling you, it’s brilliant. I told her you and I have to get remarried now because I wish I’d thought of it first,” Brianna laughed.

  “I will marry you as often as you want and anywhere in the world you want,” Noah replied before he kissed her. “You don’t even have to hide the location from me.”

  “So, you’ll do this for Chaise and Bull—without a fight?” Brianna confirmed.

  “You knew you had me from the second I walked in the door,” Noah replied, pinning her with his bedroom eyes.

  “Of course I knew,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him. “It’s still good to hear it, though.”

  “Where you go, I go. Doesn’t matter where, when, or for how long. Everything that’s important to me fits right here in my arms. I can live without all the rest of it.”

  “You are both my strength and my weakness. I’m the luckiest woman in the world, without a doubt.”

  16

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “You’re quiet,” Shadow stated. “What’s going on up there?”

  “It’s like the calm before the storm,” Rebel replied. “He’s out there, waiting to pounce, and we lost him.”

  “Clever of him to ditch the car the way he did, huh?” Shadow replied.

  “Yeah, that was great. Thought I had him with the GPS tracking, but he gave it to a homeless man who must’ve driven over every square inch of this city before he ran out of gas,” Rebel laughed sardonically. “He was probably watching me chase that old coot from one corner to the other.”

  “He’ll show back up. Don’t worry. Roaches have ways of finding their way out of the dark and into the light.”

  “But what damage will he have caused first?” Rebel asked rhetorically.

  “Brad has been watching for sudden spikes in broadband usage. He has to come back on the grid eventually. He’s a computer geek. He’s probably going through withdrawals right now.”

  “Could it really be that simple?” Rebel asked aloud. He jerked his cell phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed the number. “Brad, are you monitoring the deep web for Turan? He’s so techy and so cocky, he’s probably trolling for something illegal right now. Try high-grade weapons—ones that are really hard to get your hands on, like chemical warfare shit.”

  Rebel and Brad continued to talk about the difficult logistics of flushing someone out of the deep web when it was designed and used specifically for anonymity. They banked on Turan’s lack of conformity to standard terrorist profiles as being his ultimate downfall. Rebel knew from experience the extent of his arsenal couldn’t be limited to poisoning, stabbing, and turning the power off. He must be planning something big, something that would catch everyone completely off guard.

  Rebel then had a better idea.

  “Put out a hit on me,” Rebel directed Brad.

  “Wh-what?” Brad stammered.

  “Order a hit on me. He’ll bite,” Rebel replied. “Give enough information about me for him to identify. Play up to him losing his father, use a similar story. Close enough to relate to him but different enough that doesn’t raise any red flags.”

  “If you say so, Rebel. This will bring all kinds of freaks out of the woodwork, though,” Brad replied.

  “I’m just fishing for one freak. We’ll know it when he finds it.”

  A week later, Rebel received a call from Brad. “Our freak-bait seems to have worked for our fishing expedition.”

  “What’d we catch?” Rebel asked.

  “One Ali Babek Turan, who is willing and eager to relieve you of your head,” Brad replied. “And he’s only charging me one bitcoin to do it.”

  “Don’t sound so excited. He doesn’t get the payment until he has my head in his hands,” Rebel deadpanned. “You’ll get to keep all of your bitcoins.”

  “Good. Do you know how hard it is to generate them?”

  “How do you know it’s him?” Rebel asked, intentionally ignoring Brad’s question.

  “I have a very powerful program that can trace dark web exchanges. It’s definitely him,” Brad replied. “If he’s known by any other name, none of our government databases has it listed.”

  “Good job. We’re finally going to nail this prick. When is it going down?”

  “He just accepted the contract, and the money is being held in escrow until he delivers on the hit. I’ve sent him your address and said it had to be done within a week from today. So be ready for him at any time, Rebel,” Brad pleaded. “Reaper will have my head for this.”

  “Nah. I’ll fill him in. Thanks for hiring a hit man to kill me, Brad,” Rebel said as he hung up.

  Rebel strode into the office with a smug smile on his
face.

  “What have you done?” Reaper asked.

  “Who says I’ve done anything?” Rebel replied with a question.

  “You do. Your smile gives you away every time. That’s your shit-eating grin that says ‘You’ll never guess what shit I just pulled.’ We know you very well,” Bull replied.

  “Let’s hear it,” Reaper said.

  “I got Brad to hire a hit man to kill me.”

  “What’s the punch line?” Bull asked.

  “The hit man is Turan,” Rebel replied. “He’s coming after me.”

  Reaper leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at Rebel. “What if it’s not him?”

  “Then we’ll catch whoever it is that tries to kill me.” Rebel shrugged. “Either way, we’ll take another bad guy off the street.”

  Rebel took his seat and briefed them on his entire conversation with Brad. The next seven days would be even more trying than the last couple of months had been combined. Every member of the team would have to be on their top game, adrenaline flowing, their minds set, and their bodies ready to react in a split second. When they’d stayed in that hyped-up state for extended periods of time in the past, it had always taken a big toll on their bodies and their minds.

  “What if he shows up with an RPG and blows your house up?” Shadow asked, the twinkle of mischief shining in his eyes.

  Rebel barked out a laugh. “Turan’s not big enough to hold an RPG. The recoil alone would knock him on his ass.”

  “RPGs don’t have recoil,” Bull replied, his brow furrowed in confusion.

  “Exactly,” Rebel laughed.

  “Okay, if we’re really going to do this, we’ll have a lot of backup,” Reaper replied. “That’s not negotiable.”

  “That’s fine. Just don’t let anyone spook him. This has been the never-ending mission, and we all need to get on with our lives,” Rebel answered. “Especially me.”

  Reaper caught the last couple of words that Rebel muttered to himself. When their eyes met, Rebel nodded once to tell his friend that he was fine. The benefit of having his captain as one of his best friends was that they knew enough about each other to not have to verbalize everything. Rebel knew that, regardless of the situation, his brothers would have his back.

  “It’s a good day to catch a terrorist,” Bull replied with a smile.

  “Gather ’round,” Reaper announced. “Let’s lock this down. Everyone has to be on their best game until we catch him.”

  Over the following several hours, they established their plan to capture Turan in the act and use all of the evidence they’d gathered on him to help expel him from the country. They argued amongst themselves about the benefits of using him to flush out the other members of his cell, but they ultimately decided that it was best to get rid of one known terrorist than wait idly for more to show up. If his fate brought the others to their doorstep, they’d deal with it at that time.

  “Let’s go over tonight’s assignments one last time,” Reaper announced. “Rebel, you’ll be inside your apartment, watching TV and relaxing. Bull, you and Roman will cover the back. If he’s literally after Rebel’s head, he’ll try to get in as quietly as possible and come up behind him. That’s the most likely point of access into Rebel’s apartment, so we’re counting on you.

  “Shadow, take Alex and cover the east side. There are a couple of windows, one of which Rebel will be visible through.

  “I’ll take a couple of guys and cover the front. Blake will have one man with him on the west side. Brad will have access to satellite imagery and will be on comms with us. If anything or anyone moves, we’ll know it. Let’s not fuck this up.”

  “My head and I would appreciate it,” Rebel replied. “But if he happens to slither into my place, I’ll have a few surprises waiting for him myself.”

  “Don’t do anything out of the ordinary this week, Rebel. Let’s not spook him,” Shadow replied. “He’s most likely been watching you over the past week since the offer was posted. Checking your patterns, getting to know when you come and go, seeing if you’re preparing for him. If you do anything drastically different this week, he’ll know it’s a setup and we’ll never get this chance again.”

  “Copy that,” Rebel replied.

  “Do you even own a TV?” Bull asked.

  “Yes, I have a TV, Bull,” Rebel replied with a shake of his head.

  “You’re just not the ‘relax and watch TV’ kind of guy.” Bull shrugged.

  “And you are?”

  “Touché.”

  “How would you know how a hit man thinks, Shadow?” Bull asked. “You said that like you’ve been through this before.”

  “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.” Shadow grinned. “That’s actually a lie in itself.”

  “You wound me,” Bull replied, mimicking a stab to the chest. “I thought we told each other everything.”

  “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  “You’ve been waiting years to use that line on me, haven’t you?”

  “You know me too well, Bull.”

  “I’ll be over later and we can braid each other’s hair.”

  “I’ll be waiting with bells on,” Shadow joked. “Ladies, I will see you later tonight. There are some new toys I need to prep. I’ve wanted to try them on a perp for a while now.” Shadow waggled his eyebrows. His gaze swung to Rebel. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You really need to keep it there.”

  “I agree. Hold him off at the line of scrimmage when he comes for me and we won’t have to consider my taxidermy options,” Rebel replied with a straight face.

  “Interesting. A stuffed and mounted Rebel perched above my mantle. I could make it work with my décor,” Shadow answered on his way out the door.

  “You know that means he wants you to be careful tonight, right?” Reaper chuckled.

  “Yeah. He’s not at all ashamed to show his feminine side,” Rebel retorted. “I’m headed home to act normal and pretend I’m not up to anything. Apparently I have to be more careful with that than I realized since my smile gives me away.”

  “Smile at Turan if you see him tonight,” Bull suggested. “It’ll scare the shit out of him.”

  “We’ll cover your back, Rebel,” Reaper said. “And your neck.”

  “Thanks, ’preciate it.” He nodded. “This is going to work. Trust me.”

  “I don’t doubt you, man,” Reaper replied.

  “I’m headed to the gym now. Have to keep up my ruggedly handsome good looks,” he laughed and waved goodbye.

  * * *

  “This is a nice neighborhood,” Turan said to himself as he walked around the block. “How different would my life be if I’d been born here in the US?”

  The past couple of weeks had been increasingly difficult on him. When he first saw the video of the house vandalism, he immediately thought the men of Steele Security were behind it. What a pitiful attempt to discredit me, he thought smugly at the time. Anyone with a shred of experience in videography can tell that’s fake.

  But no one said it was a fake. Everyone believed that he was the one in that video. When his uncle, Ambassador Bachar, confirmed it and publicly disowned him, he knew without a doubt that his enemies weren’t behind it. His own people had turned on him, offered him up as the sacrificial lamb, and left him to fend for himself.

  “That was when I knew I had to move,” he said aloud as he walked. “They put me up in that apartment, and they could get back inside it with no trouble. I’d be killed before I finished my own plans. I pawned all but one of the laptops and all of the peripherals, bought a junker car, and I’ve been living out of it ever since.”

  He’d gotten lucky when he replied to an ad for a dog walker. The pay wasn’t great, but one dog quickly led to another, and soon he’d earned enough money to survive from day to day. They were all neighbors in the same apartment complex, making it easy to drop one off and take the next one out. He’d found being with the dogs was
infinitely better than being around their humans.

  “No one can be trusted, Duke,” he continued speaking to the Great Dane. “That’s why I’m here with you.”

  His eyes slowly shifted as he glanced around the complex. The second big break came when he visited a well-known hacker site in the hidden part of the Internet. The place where people only visited if they were looking for something they didn’t want displayed in their search history. It was a virtual hangout that didn’t track the presence of the users with cookies and ISP addresses. A place where people like him were free to post and respond to requests without the judging eyes of others watching.

  The request from a comrade in similar straits caught his eye. At first, it seemed a little too good to be true and he was more than leery of it. Like any good soldier, he’d been doing his own reconnaissance work and watching his prey without anyone knowing. He’d been watching every day for almost a week and, so far, he was satisfied that he could safely take the job. He decided that accepting money for it would be an insult to his honor. One bitcoin wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, but it felt like a fitting exchange. In his mind, it was one penny for one life.

  “Tomorrow, I will tell my comrade that I’ll take the job,” he avowed.

  His target would be home anytime now if he stuck to his normal routine. “His real name has been hidden from me, Duke,” he continued speaking to the dog. “But I will make him reveal it before I relieve him of his head. My knife is sharpened and ready. Sure, I could use a bullet and end this quickly, but I must look into his eyes as he dies. He must look into mine, and he must know I’m the one who has won.”

  The deep rumble of the 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429 could be heard well before the car was seen. That was his cue that the one called Rebel was home. Loud, proud, and arrogant, his muscle car announced to the world that he’d arrived. The throaty engine turned heads all over the complex, especially from the single women who fawned over the muscle-man owner. Turan hid behind the ornamental trees in the landscaping bed and watched Rebel slide out of his car, grab his gym bag, and casually stroll to his ground-floor apartment.

 

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