Necessary Pursuit (A Trinity Masters Novel)

by Lila Dubois

  One gun for each of them. How equitable.

  Selene had never had a gun pointed at her before, and the feeling of helplessness was nearly overwhelming.

  One of the men near the center stepped forward. Before he could speak, the man beside him snapped his gun up, twisting his hand palm down in a position that seemed at odds with his tactical gear. “You do what we want and we won’t hurt you.”

  The speaker spoke American English with a Chicago accent, which, like the sideways gun, seemed at odds with the terrifying commando-unit appearance of the group.

  The man in the middle, the one who’d first moved, shot the speaker a look. Their faces were hard to see through the tinted visors of their helmets, but whatever the expression, it made Chicago Henchman lower his gun.

  The leader focused on Luca. “The plans.”

  Before Luca could reply, Oscar jumped in.

  “The plans to what?” Oscar demanded. “Also, who the fuck are you?”

  “You don’t talk, motherfucker,” another of the men snapped. “You want me to shoot your bitch ass? Because I will. I’ll fucking shoot you in the dick.” This one also sounded American—with a flat midwestern accent—and young, his voice cracking at one point. It was almost embarrassing, listening to him attempt to intimidate Oscar. Even with the gun, this henchman had far less personal gravitas than Oscar or even Luca.

  The leader, who she decided to think of as Boss Henchman, snapped something at Teenager Henchman. Then, ignoring Oscar, he refocused on Luca. “Give us the plans.”

  Did Boss Henchman have an accent? She couldn’t tell. His terse sentences weren’t enough for her to make a determination. But there was a slight oddness to the way he’d said “the”—the th sound more of a z.

  If he, like Chicago and Teenager henchmen, was an American, who spoke Serbian or Croatian, that would mean…something? She realized she was cataloguing this information as if it were vital. And maybe it would be, if they made it out of this situation alive and she could provide valuable information to…to who? The Trinity Masters? The Masters’ Admiralty? The FBI?

  “No,” Luca said simply. He looked at Selene out of the corner of his eye as he said, “I’m the only one who has them, and I will not give them to you.”

  I’m the only one who has them.

  Luca was warning them not to say they’d seen and copied the plans.

  Boss Henchman jerked his head at the man next to him—not Chicago, the guy on the other side—who started toward them. Oscar slid in front of her, the muscles of his back tense as he pressed against her front.

  The man reached not for her, but Luca. Henchman Two grabbed him by the shoulder and jerked him away from the wall. Luca stumbled, off-balance without the use of his hands. He glanced back at them as he was hauled away, and Selene’s heart clenched at the resignation in his gaze.

  She dug her nails into Oscar’s back, wanting him to get out of the way so she could try to…to what?

  They were in the middle of a deadly situation, which meant this connection she felt to Luca was nothing more than crisis bonding. At least, that was the logical reasoning to explain her sudden desire to protect Luca, a stranger, at all costs.

  They forced Luca to his knees.

  And then they beat him.

  It was a night of horrible firsts. The first time she’d had a gun pointed at her. The first time she’d witnessed such cold and deliberate violence. The first few blows, delivered by Boss and the man who’d grabbed Luca, were cold and calculated—a punch that rocked his head back, then a knee to the chest that made him double over.

  Then the others, including Chicago and Teenager, took over. They weren’t silent and methodical, the way the two clearly more senior men had been. They taunted Luca. They swore and cursed and made a show of it, clearly enjoying the violence for violence’s sake.

  The sounds surprised her; below the cruel, stupid comments and jeers were other noises. The slap of Luca’s body hitting the concrete when a backhand to the face knocked him off his knees and sent his glasses skittering across the basement floor. Luca’s wet coughs after he was kicked in the stomach.

  Oscar squatted down to pick up the glasses. Selene took them from him, shoving them in her front hoodie pocket.

  Every few blows, Boss would order the others to stop, and he would question Luca, switching to what she was fairly sure was Italian. Luca’s answers, when he gave them, were terse, just one word.

  “No” was the same in most languages.

  “Fuck,” Oscar snarled. “Just give them the damned plans.” His words weren’t loud enough for Luca to hear; it was more as if he were willing Luca to do it.

  “We could give them the plans,” Selene whispered against Oscar’s back.

  Oscar turned his back to the room, hugging her, as if comforting her when, in reality, he brought his lips to her ear, continuing their conversation. “Right before they grabbed him, he was trying to warn us not to say we have them.”

  Selene nodded, then winced at the sound of another vicious blow landing. “They’re going to kill him.”

  “Actually, I don’t think they are. I’ve been watching him, and Luca is shifting right before the blows land.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He’s leaning out of the way, or twisting so they aren’t hitting his kidneys.”

  “They’re still hurting him.”

  “Yeah, but they’re not killing him…and they don’t seem to realize what he’s doing. Not even the smart one.”

  “I think the two senior guys might have accents, but the dumb ones sound American.”

  “The leader and the guy standing beside him are the dangerous ones.”

  “Boss and his number one henchman. I agree. But they all have guns.”

  “And we’re trapped in a fucking basement with them.”

  “We have to do something, get all of us out of here. I can’t just stand here listening to,” a thud sounded, followed by a low moan from Luca, “that.”

  “What the fuck can we do?” Oscar snapped.

  “I don’t know,” she said, irritated, which was a far better feeling than sick and scared. “This feels like some sort of low-budget gangster movie.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re the one who’s halfway to supervillain. Out bad-guy the bad guys,” Oscar grumped.

  Selene repressed the insane and inappropriate urge to howl with laughter. “Okay, you’re my loyal sidekick.”

  “I was joking.”

  “I wasn’t,” she said with a smirk.

  Oscar grunted, but turned away so he was standing beside rather than in front of her.

  Selene started walking. She walked right past Luca, who was curled on the floor, his face bloody, and through the line of henchmen, Oscar next to her every step of the way. They made it as far as the stairs before Boss barked, “Stop.”

  She turned to face them, trying to ignore the four guns that were now trained on her.

  “You will not leave,” Boss growled. She could see now he wasn’t a particularly strong man. In fact, his bulk was more fat than muscle.

  “I have no interest in remaining. My time is valuable.” Selene adjusted her glasses and looked at each of them. “This man approached me through improper channels. We were addressing the break in decorum when you arrived. Clearly you have a preexisting arrangement. Therefore, my men and I are leaving.”

  From the way Boss Henchman shifted uneasily, she was fairly sure her use of unnecessarily large words had worked. She was banking on his English not being good enough—and the others not being smart enough—to realize she’d just said a whole lot of nothing.

  “We should shoot them,” Chicago said with relish.

  He was clearly not the brains, but stupid was dangerous.

  “We were just supposed to get the Italian guy, right?” Teenager asked, looking around. Several of the henchmen had a quick conversation before Boss waved his hand at them and snapped in Serbian (or Croatian) something that didn’
t really need to be translated. Telling someone to “shut the fuck up” was all about the tone.

  The others fell silent as Boss turned back to Selene. “Why did he come?” He gestured to her, the meaning clear enough.

  There were more of them, and they had guns, both of which made them dangerous, but despite their military-style equipment—which implied both experience and discipline—they lacked the level of confidence she would have expected.

  Certain that Boss was, in truth, just a henchman like the others, Selene settled into her role as a badder bad guy. She’d been to many a faculty meeting, which meant she could turn what should have been one well-worded email into a forty-minute conversation.

  Stall for time.

  All she had to do was stall for time until SWAT got there. And, if possible, get them out of the basement. As it stood right now, they were hemmed in with too many weapons and too many loose cannons.

  “Because I’m the one people come to when they have that type of need,” she replied vaguely.

  Another low-voiced conversation between the henchmen. Between their legs, she could see Luca, who lifted his head. One cheek was magenta, but he didn’t look as bad as she’d thought he would. Oscar was right, he’d been exaggerating his reactions.

  Or they’d concentrated on body blows and he was bleeding internally.

  Luca widened his eyes and shook his head at her.

  Selene ignored him and folded her arms, as if impatient. It helped hide that her fingers were shaking.

  “Who are you?” Boss asked.

  “Who are you?” she countered.

  “No.” Boss raised his gun, pointing it at her head, his Eastern European accent stronger now with his irritation. “You answer.”

  “Shoot me and you’ll never know the answer.”

  “Answer!”

  “Selene,” Oscar hissed. “This isn’t—”

  “I have access to resources,” she said, maintaining her calm facade, while inside she was barely holding it together. “Resources no one else has, and which he wanted.”

  Another statement that was open to a variety of interpretations.

  Boss looked at the man next to him, the one who’d first dragged Luca away, as if seeking input. If all of them had been like those two, attempting a bluff would have been suicidal.

  Chicago scratched his elbow with his gun, while the second man said something in Serbian. Boss listened, then refocused on her.

  To her everlasting shock, Boss lowered his weapon, a definite glimmer of what looked like respect in his eyes. “Ah, we are in the same business.”

  Crap. She totally was a supervillain.

  “You buy or sell?” Boss gestured to Luca, without looking back at him.

  Lying on the floor, Luca mouthed, “Sell.”

  “Sell,” Selene said, then she narrowed her eyes. “What does he have that I would want to buy?”

  Boss shrugged uncomfortably, aware he may have revealed something he shouldn’t have.

  “If she sells the chemicals and stuff, let’s take her t—” Teenager started, only to be cut off by Boss, who reached out and shoved him.

  Selene looked back at Oscar. “Perhaps we were too hasty, leaving—” crap, she’d almost said Luca, and knowing his name might not be what her supervillain persona would know. “—the Italian to them, if he has something to offer.”

  “He is ours.” Boss raised the gun once more.

  Selene paused, pretending to consider it. “Then as a matter of professional courtesy, I leave him to you. However, my presence here is not necessary.”

  “You and I are not finished talking,” Boss said. “Maybe we buy what you sell.”

  “You didn’t follow proper channels, either.” She turned away from him and approached the foot of the stairs. She expected to feel a bullet rip through her body any minute. Mercifully, it didn’t.

  “This is taking too long,” Chicago muttered, clearly unhappy with the way Boss was running the show.

  Boss ignored that complaint, then turned to the other men and gestured to Luca. “Take him upstairs. We finish there.”

  Selene remained at the base of the steps and tried to take a deep breath, grateful they would be going upstairs. Upstairs where she and Oscar wouldn’t be trapped and would at least have somewhere to run and hide if the opportunity presented itself. And if they were more spread out, maybe there’d be a way for them to grab Luca…

  But upstairs would also mean the henchmen might see SWAT coming and take her and Oscar hostage again.

  Then again, if they were in the basement, they’d be even easier to grab and use as human shields when SWAT arrived.

  Oscar stepped next to Selene when Chicago waved his gun at them. “You two next. And don’t try any funny business.”

  Yep. Bad movie.

  “Go,” Oscar breathed, putting his hand on her back and urging her to move.

  As she started up the stairs, she saw Henchman Two and Teenager reach beneath Luca’s arms, half-carrying, half-dragging him up the stairs. Selene couldn’t tell if Luca was too weak to walk up the stairs on his own or if he was simply pretending he was more seriously injured in order to make their job harder.

  Or maybe Oscar was wrong and Luca was in far worse shape than they realized.

  If they’d hoped to have a few moments to themselves upstairs, they were disappointed because the henchmen were right on Oscar’s heels.

  There was definitely a power struggle/language barrier situation going on between Boss and Chicago. Perhaps Selene could exacerbate that situation, turn the henchmen on themselves. She tried to recall if Bill or Wayne had mentioned how long it would take for SWAT to arrive.

  The thought of their two bodyguards had her looking around. “Where are my men?” she asked with forced bravado.

  Granted, this situation had been out of her control since practically the beginning, but that didn’t change the fact that two men had risked their lives to keep her safe. She needed to know they were okay.

  Teenager leered at her. “Taking a little nap.”

  She gave him a once-over and sneered.

  When he stormed toward her, Oscar stepped in front of her, his arms folded.

  Boss barked something from the kitchen, where he’d led the henchmen. Teenager hesitated, but it wasn’t until Chicago said, “Leave the bitch,” that he turned away.

  Definitely a power struggle.

  For a moment, they were alone in the hall.

  Oscar turned to her. “We’ll get him back. They aren’t going to kill him. They want the plans.”

  “They’re torturing him.”

  “Hold it together, Tanaka. We’ve gotta find Wayne and Bill. They’re probably locked in a closet.”

  “Why are you whispering?” she asked.

  “Because we saw twelve of them on the security cameras, and only eight were in the basement.”

  “Fuck,” she hissed.

  “That’s my line.” Oscar kissed her, quick and hard, and then stepped away. “We need to stay with them.” Oscar jerked his head toward the kitchen. “If we run into the other mercenaries before the head guy gives them the message that you’re dangerous and we should be allowed to leave…”

  “And if we stay with them, we can keep an eye on Luca.”

  Oscar nodded in agreement, the corners of his eyes tight with what other people might say was anger, but which she was sure was worry.

  They stepped into the kitchen, Selene in the lead.

  They were just in time to see Henchman Two shove Luca to his knees once more. Chicago then kicked him in the stomach.

  If Oscar was correct, and Luca was attempting to soften the blows by slight body adjustments, there was no denying he’d been unprepared for the kick. He lurched forward, grunting in obvious pain.

  Selene tried to ignore Luca’s groans and the muted thuds of the beating, which started again—and with renewed vigor—fighting to listen for some sound from outside that would mean help had arrived.


  They could have left. Could have gone to find Wayne and Bill and then left.

  But she felt as if she needed to be here for Luca. Not that she was doing a damn thing to help him.

  How long could they stand here before Boss or Chicago realized how weird it was that they were hanging around? Selene tried to come up with their next move, but her nerves were slowly getting the better of her. They were lucky to have fooled the men this long, and she knew enough to know they were currently living on borrowed time.

  Where the hell was the SWAT team?

  Her fingers dug into Oscar’s back after one particularly hard slap that sent Luca’s head back.

  “Enough!” Boss yelled as Luca lay on the floor, a trickle of blood dripping from his nose to the tile beneath him. The boss henchman knelt by Luca. “Give me the plans,” he demanded.

  Luca didn’t reply to Boss’s request, not even to repeat his standard “no.” Instead, his eyes remained closed, and Selene wondered for a moment if they’d knocked him out.

  Selene caught Oscar’s quick intake of breath, her gaze leaving Luca’s still frame lying on the ground.

  “What?” she whispered to Oscar, whose attention wasn’t on the activity in the kitchen, but rather on something outside the window. Either Bill and Wayne hadn’t had a chance to close the metal shutters in here, or Boss’s group had opened them.

  She followed his gaze, but saw nothing. Then, she squinted and stared harder, certain she’d seen movement.

  “Give them!” Boss shook Luca’s shoulder roughly.

  She saw Luca’s eyes open slightly, slitted just enough for him to see. He was faking unconsciousness.

  She was trying to decide what she should say, what else she could do to stall any more of the beating, when Oscar stiffened, his hand dropping to his side, his fingers wrapping around her wrist.

  Through the kitchen window, she could see movement on the back porch, and the sense of relief made her light-headed.

  A figure, clad in black, in almost identical riot gear to what the henchmen wore, slid through the shadows.

  “We have a problem,” Oscar breathed, squeezing her wrist slightly.