Razor's Edge

by Shannon K. Butcher

  What the hell had happened? Had they gone drinking last night? That didn’t sound right. Reid never hung out with him like that. But the feeling in his head was the same. The bitter taste in the back of his throat, the pounding headache, the lethargy—it sure as hell felt like a hangover.

  “Wake up, Tanner. Don’t you do this to me.” Reid roughly patted Tanner’s cheek, and it wasn’t until then that he realized his eyes had closed again.

  “Do what?” Even the sound of his own voice was too loud.

  Reid lowered his voice, as if he didn’t want others to hear. “Razor needs you to wake up.”

  Razor? Roxanne.

  Everything slammed back into his brain: the diner, Jake, the explosion, the man in gray flying off with Roxanne.

  Fear for her shoved his eyelids up and gave his limbs the strength to move. He sat up and gritted his teeth through the wave of dizziness that hit him. “Where is she?”

  Reid’s expression was grim. “They took her. Jake, too. They used her earpiece to communicate with us. They’ll only talk to you.”

  “Why?”

  “How the fuck should I know?”

  “It’s a stall tactic,” said Clay.

  Tanner swiveled his head, tracking where the voice had come from. They were in the back of the MCC, though he couldn’t remember how he got here. Clay was sitting at the table where Tanner had made love to Roxanne the first time.

  She was gone. It had been his job to keep her safe, and he’d let her down.

  He was always letting down the people he loved.

  As the truth hit him, he pushed it away, unable to deal with the implications of his feelings. He couldn’t love her right now, not when she was out there, in danger. He had to stay focused and think logically. She needed him right now, and no amount of love was going to save her. Only cunning and a shitload of bullets could do that.

  “What do you mean a stall tactic?” asked Reid.

  Clay looked up from his laptop. “They knew Tanner was hit with the tranq. They knew it would take him a few hours to wake up, giving them plenty of time to get away and regroup.”

  “Where?” Tanner struggled to his feet, forcing his legs to accept his weight. The MCC was moving. He could feel the vibrations of the tires under his feet.

  Reid held on to Tanner’s arm, keeping him steady. “We don’t know. They wanted a phone number to contact, so I gave them mine. They’ll call us.”

  “Did you call the police?”

  “After what just happened at that diner? Do you really want to spend the next two days stuck in an interrogation room, answering questions? I’ve spent enough time that way lately, thank you.”

  Reid was right. Tanner wasn’t thinking clearly yet. And he still wasn’t convinced that whoever had the funding and organization to pull off something like what they’d done to Jake wasn’t also in the business of buying off law enforcement. It was clear they were willing to drug people against their will. Bribing a few cops didn’t seem like that big of a deal in comparison.

  “They want the journal,” said Tanner. “We need to get it.”

  “Payton’s on the way with it. He made a copy, but he’s bringing the original.”

  Clay poured a cup of coffee from the built-in coffeemaker and handed it to Tanner. “Drink this. It’ll help flush that shit out of your system.”

  Tanner drank. It burned his mouth a little, but he didn’t care. He needed to be thinking clearly. Roxanne was at stake.

  “I don’t like it,” said Clay. “They’ve got to know that we’ll copy the journal. The leak is sprung. The only way to stop it is to take out everyone who came in contact with the information.”

  “There’s no way they can control something like that now. The cat is out of the bag.”

  “You don’t get it,” said Tanner. “You don’t have to kill everyone involved—just enough of us that the rest of us are too scared to talk.”

  Clay shook his head. “They’ll come after all of us. Mark my words. We either take them out and expose them for what they are, or they’ll hunt every last one of us down.”

  “Wait a minute.” Reid held up his hands. “Listen to yourselves. We’re not going to storm in and mow people down. We’re not at war.”

  “The fuck we’re not,” said Tanner. “They have Roxanne. I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.”

  Reid’s brows rose; then his eyes narrowed as he studied Tanner in silence. That scrutinizing look was no good. His brother was far too perceptive for his own good.

  “And Jake,” added Clay. “If we don’t get him out, Razor will be right back out there, looking for him.”

  A cell phone rang, and Reid answered it. He listened for a moment, then handed the phone to Tanner. “It’s them.”

  Clay jumped up and went to the computer console toward the front. Tanner pulled in a deep breath and took the phone. “Hello?”

  “Hey, lover,” said a man. “I’ve got your sweet, hot thing here. Say hi, sweet, hot thing.”

  Roxanne’s voice was rough and weak, but she was alive. Tanner’s soul shouted in relief. “Don’t come, Tanner. He’ll kill—”

  “None of that,” said the man, coming back on the line. “We want the journal.”

  “I don’t have it, but I will.”

  “Sooner is better than later. Your sweetheart doesn’t have much time.”

  “Don’t you fucking hurt her, or I’ll kill you,” growled Tanner.

  “Threats? Really? How smart is that when you’re all the way over there and I’m all the way over here? With her.” There was the sound of a hard slap and Roxanne let out a gasp of pain.

  Tanner’s blood pressure shot up. He wanted to crawl through the phone and kill this bastard with his bare hands. Only the realization that his words could get her killed helped rein him in.

  When he spoke, his voice barely sounded human. “Take me. Let her go. I’ll even play nice and let you do whatever you want without a fight. You can put one of those fucking poison pills in my head. I don’t care.”

  “You’re not our type,” said the man, “but that’s sweet of you to offer.”

  “I’ll be whatever type you want. Just let her go.”

  “Here’s how it’s going to work, lover boy. You’re going to come alone with the diary to a location of my choosing. I’ll have men there to meet you. You come here and we’ll talk. If anyone comes with you, she dies. If anyone follows you, she dies. We find a single bug or tracking device on you, she dies. Get the pattern here?”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. We get the diary and any copies of it you made, and you get the girl.”

  “What about Jake?”

  “I have a feeling you won’t want him anymore.”

  “Why? What have you done to him?”

  “Two hours,” said the man. “Have the diary in two hours or the deal’s off and you’ll never hear from me or your woman again.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Tanner thanked God that Payton was loaded and had his own plane. Tanner made it to the rendezvous point with only two minutes to spare. The diary was tucked inside a briefcase Payton had sworn was clean of surveillance devices.

  Tanner was sure he was lying.

  The field was in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but grass, cows, and oil pumps to hide behind. Pumps churned away, sucking oil out from deep wells. The sun blazed down, making him sweat beneath the armored tactical vest. He’d come without weapons and stripped himself of all tracking that he knew of, including the dog tags he’d been given by the Edge.

  That didn’t mean there weren’t any devices on him. It just meant he didn’t know where they were. Plausible deni-ability, he guessed.

  Dust snaked in a path behind a black van in the distance. He’d had to hike in here on foot, letting his cell phone’s GPS guide him to the indicated coordinates. The van pulled up beside him, and the back door slid open.

  A stony-faced man sat inside, pointing a rifle at Tanner’s gu
t. “Open the case.”

  Tanner did as he was directed, scanning the inside of the van for what he was up against. There were four men, all armed and holding weapons like they knew how to use them. “Where’s Roxanne?”

  “You’ll see her soon enough.”

  “No one gets the journal until I know she’s alive.”

  The man reached for a phone, and without taking his eyes off Tanner, dialed a single number. “He wants to know she’s alive.” There was a long pause; then the man tossed him the phone.

  Tanner caught it and brought it to his ear. “Roxanne?”

  On the other end, he could hear someone talking nearby. A man. “Lover boy wants to know you’re alive. Scream for him, honey.”

  A gurgling scream of pain filled his ear, making his stomach drop with a jolt. That was Roxanne’s voice, and whatever that bastard was doing to her was torturing her.

  “Stop!” shouted Tanner.

  The screams died off into gasping pants for air. The man said into the phone, “Are you convinced she’s alive, or do you need more proof?”

  “Don’t you fucking touch her again,” he warned. “I’m coming.”

  “Give the phone back.”

  Tanner flung it back at the man with the rifle, unable to control his rage.

  They were hurting her, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do to stop it—not from here. He had to get to her and get her out of there.

  The man with the rifle showed no flicker of emotion. “Strip.”

  “What?” asked Tanner.

  “Your clothes. Take them off.” He tossed a set of what looked like hospital scrubs onto the ground at Tanner’s feet. “Put these on.”

  Apparently, they thought he might be bugged, too.

  Fine. He’d do what it took to get to Roxanne, even if it meant going into combat naked.

  He made quick work of the change of clothes. A second man stepped out of the van with a two-foot-long electronic device that looked similar to the ones used by airport security. “Hold your arms out and spread your legs while I scan you.”

  Once again, Tanner did what he was told and held still for the scan. Of course, the rifle barrel pointed his way made him a hell of a lot more compliant than he felt.

  “He’s clean,” said the scanner.

  The first man nodded to the case. “Bring the book. Nothing else. Get in.”

  Tanner grabbed the case.

  “No. Just the book.”

  Tanner opened the case and removed the notebook.

  The man with the scanner swiped it over the journal. When it didn’t set off any alarms, Tanner let out a sigh of relief.

  “Put this on your head.” They tossed him a black pillowcase.

  He pulled the hood over his head, blinding himself, then tucked the journal in the back of his waistband so his hands were free if he needed them. These guys weren’t fucking around, and they weren’t taking any chances. In the end, it didn’t matter if Tanner was outclassed. He was getting in that van one way or another.

  Payton had a bad feeling about this whole situation. He stood in the back of the MCC, trying to look relaxed and hopeful even though his stomach churned with anxiety. Razor was out there alone, almost certainly in the hands of Norma Stynger. Payton had been willing to kill the woman because she had no conscience and would not be stopped. Apparently, even death couldn’t stop her.

  He began to pace, caught himself, and covered his action by pretending as though he’d meant to cross the cramped space. He hovered behind Reid, scanning the screen.

  “He hasn’t moved,” said Reid. “I tried to call his cell, but he’s not answering.”

  Payton slid a comm unit on. “Does anyone have eyes on Tanner?”

  Clay’s voice came through the headset. “We couldn’t get that close without being seen.”

  “Something isn’t right.” Payton could feel it in his bones.

  Reid pushed the chair back and stood. “I’m going out there.”

  “No. You’re not thinking clearly. Let the others handle this.”

  Anguish burned in his blue eyes. “He’s my brother. I can’t lose him, too.”

  Payton clapped a hand on Reid’s shoulder. “You aren’t going to lose him.” Into the microphone, he said, “Gage, move in. Clay, cover him. I want to know what the hell is going on.”

  Reid collapsed back into his seat in frustration.

  What he wouldn’t have given for a satellite of his own right now. Sure, Bob could probably pull some strings and get one, but it would take hours to get the approval and re-task it. They didn’t have that kind of time. And that was the kind of thing that made people ask questions—questions that had the potential to ruin a lot of lives.

  “He’s gone,” said Gage, his voice barely audible.

  Reid went pale and began to tremble. “What do you mean gone?”

  “His clothes are here. He’s not.”

  Payton pulled in a silent breath. He couldn’t let Reid see how upset this news left him. “Gage, pull back. Reid, access Mira’s tracking system, and see if he’s still wearing his ID tags.”

  “I already did. They haven’t moved. He’s gone.” Reid pounded his hand on the built-in desk. “Fuck.”

  Payton pushed Reid aside and accessed the code to the tracking device he’d hidden in the case. It was stationary, too.

  Reid was right. Tanner was gone, and they had no way to find him.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Roxanne was bleeding. That was the first thing that registered with Tanner as they led him inside the defunct factory. They’d bound her to a chair. Her head hung limply to one side, revealing a trail of blood leaking from the corner of her swollen mouth. She had a dark bruise on her cheek, and a cut just below her swollen eye.

  Fury swelled in his heart and pulsed out into his limbs. His hands curled into fists so tight his knuckles popped. Whoever had done that was going to pay.

  An older man stood near her, his hips propped against a workbench. His thick arms were crossed over his chest, revealing a pistol on his belt. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut flat across the top, and he regarded Tanner with the same concern one would give a moth.

  “I’m General Bower. You must be Tanner.”

  The name rang a bell. He was the one who’d recruited Jake, fooling him into thinking he worked for some secret military unit.

  No way was that man a general. He had the air of a man comfortable with power, but there was no honor in him, no humility. His cold eyes fixed on Tanner, and his head tilted to the side as if he were studying him. Maybe he was sizing Tanner up, or maybe he was looking for new recruits.

  Tanner kept his voice light and conversational, despite his desire to do bodily harm to the man. “I don’t recognize the uniform. What branch?”

  Bower’s face darkened with either anger or embarrassment—Tanner couldn’t tell which, and he really didn’t care. The fact was that the comment got to him, which showed a weakness—maybe one Tanner could exploit.

  “Where’s the diary?” asked Bower.

  Tanner pulled it from his waistband and started walking forward. All he had to do was get his hands on that gun. There were three of Bower’s men here—including the two men who’d walked him inside—but Tanner was well trained and highly motivated. If he got that gun, three-against-one were not bad odds.

  “Stop right there,” ordered the man with an air of command.

  Tanner kept walking, the journal stretched out in offering. “I thought you wanted it.”

  Bower drew his weapon and pointed it at Roxanne. “I said stop.”

  This time, Tanner did as he was told. He didn’t doubt for a second that Bower would pull the trigger. Any man who would willingly kidnap and torture a woman wouldn’t think twice about killing her. After all, she was a witness—one they’d probably already planned to eliminate.

  At the sound of his voice, Roxanne’s eyes opened and her head rolled around toward him. “Tanner?”

  Hearing her
speak sent a wave of relief shooting through him. He tried not to let it show, but his emotions were running hot, and his poker face was long gone. “I’m here. I’m going to get you out of here. Just hang on.”

  Bower smiled like he’d just heard some kind of inside joke. That only served to confirm Tanner’s suspicions.

  “Open the book.”

  Tanner did.

  The man saw Jake’s writing and nodded. “Toss it here.”

  “Let her go first.”

  “About that. There’s been a change in plans. We’re keeping her.”

  Tanner had to choke back the enraged comment that came to mind. He had to keep his cool here. Some anger was good—it would make him strong, fast—but too much would cloud his focus. “That’s not the deal we had.”

  “I’m changing the deal. We need her for this one little thing. I’d tell you that I’d give her back to you when we were done with her, but I doubt you’re going to want her. Or what’s left of her.”

  “Let her go,” Tanner said, his tone a bit more demanding than he’d intended. “I’ll stay in her place.”

  Roxanne’s eyes opened and she stared at him, her chin trembling. Tears spilled down her cheeks, mixing with the blood. “No. You can’t.”

  He squared his shoulders, letting his love for her make him strong. “I can and I will.”

  Roxanne felt like she was going to burst with relief and fear all at the same time. Tanner had offered to trade his life for hers—without hesitation or reservation. No bargaining or conditions. Not even her own parents had been willing to do the same. How could a man she’d known for such a short time care about her enough to risk his life to save her? Even as the question rattled through her mind, confusing her, she knew without a doubt that he’d do the same for anyone. He was as selfless as he was brave, and she was as humbled by his choice as she was horrified.

  He stood there, tall and proud, his body shaking with rage. But when he looked at her, there was gentleness there, concern. He gave her hope that they’d make it out of here alive, whereas before, she’d had none.