His Devil's Rage

by Linzi Basset

  He stared at her searchingly. She didn’t blink, no matter that at the moment, he scared the shit out of her.

  “He let us all down, Dexter. He knew they were coming and he didn’t warn us. We were all loyal to The Sixth Order, to him, and he handed us to them on a platter. If I hadn’t been in the restroom and had time to crawl into a hidden closet, I’d have been captured too. And you … he left you there to die.” She squeezed his hands. “For that betrayal of your friendship and loyalty, he has to pay.”

  Dexter felt the first flicker of warmth lick at his cold heart. The desire to look into Reece’s eyes, to find the answers he was looking for, became a possibility. No matter how hard he’d tried to make excuses for his best friend, he couldn’t discard the seed that Jack had planted in his mind. That moment when Reece had turned away, leaving him bleeding and to his own fate, had been the final nail in the coffin of their partnership. With that, he had severed the cords of loyalty and friendship, gaining instead, another enemy.

  God help him if his betrayal went as far back as ordering the hit on Maureen.

  “Where is he?”

  “What do you mean you can’t find him?” Reece bellowed at Dan who regarded him with his usual closed expression, not fazed by the anger of his feared leader.

  “Just what I said. He disappeared. From what his neighbor said, he arrived early this morning, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, hiding beneath a cap. He seemed in a hurry and shortly thereafter he left. With suitcases in his hand.”

  Reece paced in front of the window, blind to the gentle ripples of water on the lake that he had been appreciating moments before. The day had kicked off so well. He’d felt good, pumped up on the success of another series of bombings at precincts in Dallas and Los Angeles. The final retribution for closing down his drug labs. The deaths of close to a hundred police officers from all the bombings was a small consolation prize but it boosted his ego that he could still bring them to their knees.

  “That doesn’t sound like Gun. If he’d been made, he would’ve contacted me. Something is wrong. Get hold of our CIs at Precision Secure, Ray Silver and Karen Norwood. See if there’s any chittering about an incident at the club. My gut tells me it’s a ploy to throw us off guard.” Reece lit a cigar and puffed on it. “Have you found that Russian slut yet?”

  He had bargained on eliminating the entire Russian group while hurting the Precision Secure team, which was why he had devised the plan to hit Ethan’s house. It was a pleasant coincidence that the infiltrator was his wife’s brother. It irritated him that Tasha Alenichev had managed to escape. Mr. Z never left loose ends. She was the only one who was left with the knowledge of the involvement of The Sixth Order in stealing the MOKV designs.

  “We’re still searching. I’ve secured a new informant at the DMV. One who has more authority. They’re busy scouring the traffic and bank cams. If she’s out there, we’ll find her.”

  “You fucking better. I’m tired of hiding in this shithole. I want to know where Gun is, Dan. Find him first.”

  He continued to pace after Dan left. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.

  “Fuck! If only Jaden was here,” he snarled as he stabbed the stub of the cigar into the ashtray. He had always leaned on him for moral support, not to mention as a crutch to hash out problems. Without him, he only had Will and he was a shithead, dumb as fuck, who could do nothing but follow orders.

  He sat down at the dining room table and flicked open the blue folder to scan the content. It was the information Jessica Simmons had given him the morning before the Sauna House was invaded.

  “Argh!” he roared minutes later and swept the file off the table. “Another dead end!” His suspicions about the CIA operative who had been involved in the murder of Edward Delaware, one of the designing engineers of the MOKV designs, were wrong. The secure file she’d managed to download from the CIA database indicated that Delaware had been caught trying to sell the designs. His death was a result of the intense interrogation methods used by Xavier Dunn, one of the best on their force to extract information. She confirmed that he had no connection with the Russian mafia or any other syndicate.

  “If not him, then who? Who the fuck managed to spook the Russians and turned them against us? Who is the third player?”

  He pulled the flash drive out of his pocket that contained the folder with the MOKV designs. Dexter had been right about Jessica Simmons. She was the best computer expert they’d ever had on board. She’d managed to unlock the folder on the secure server. With the Russians out of the picture, the power was all his. He slipped it back in his pocket. He always carried it with him, prepared for the day he was ready to use it. His eyes turned cold.

  “It’s my ticket to build up The Sixth Order to an even stronger and bigger organization. No one is going to stop me this time. No fucking one.”

  He pulled his laptop closer. He waited impatiently for it to power up and then opened his untraceable email account.

  “It’s time to set the ball rolling. With Bruce Rickett’s attention on my whore, it’ll be child’s play to finish the rest of them. They always looked up to him, like he's the fucking father or something.” He laughed with glee. “They won’t fucking see it coming.”

  His fingers ratted on the keyboard. He sat back, smiling as he pressed the send button.

  “Now I wait. You will bring him to me, Morgan Adler and then, I’m going to keep you locked in a cage until I’m ready to end it—with a knife. You won’t escape me again.”

  “We only have a small window of advantage with Wade’s death. Reece won’t be fooled into believing that he disappeared without letting him know for too long.” Bruce took a bite from the warm chocolate croissant, their staple food during early morning meetings.

  “I managed to unlock the second phone we found in his pocket,” Max shrugged. “Had to take a trip to the mortuary for his fingerprint but it was worth it.”

  “Did you find anything of value?” Rhone flexed his muscles as he stretched his legs. He’d overdone his morning run. His complaining hammies warned him that he was going to be stiff.

  “Hell, yes.” Max linked the phone with the monitor on the wall and opened the messages. “There’s only two people he’s been texting lately. D and Z. I don’t think we need to guess who they are. Richard is working on the cloned phone to see if he can trace the cell towers from where some of the calls were made. It’s a long shot but you never know.”

  “Hold on. There’s a message that just came through from D.” Jack sat forward. “I can’t fucking believe Jaden managed to survive. That chain took out a chunk of his face.”

  “Hmm, doesn’t look like that’s from Jaden,” Keon said. “Mr. Z wants to see you. Send coordinates for pick up.”

  “I agree. Even if Jaden survived, there’s no way …” Jack pointed at the screen. “D isn’t for Dexter. It has to be Dan Scott. Their right hand man.”

  “Send a response, Max. Keep it short and to the point. We need to keep Wade’s death quiet for a while longer. At least until Morgan receives the instructions from Reece.” Rhone watched as Max complied.

  Cover blown. Hiding out. Will contact Z.

  “Perfect. Send it and switch off the phone.” Rhone looked up as Richard pushed through the door, the wheels of his chair squeaking on the wooden floor.

  “Email came through on that account of Morgan’s, Bruce,” he said by way of greeting. He linked it to the wall monitor.

  Monday at noon, Bar J Chili Parlor.

  Be sure to insist on a table outside.

  You have two days to enjoy your freedom.

  This time you won’t escape me again.

  “Fucking bastard,” Bruce grated through thin lips. His hands curled into fists. “You’re a dead man in two days, you fucker.”

  “I don’t know the Bar J. Where is it?” Rhone asked with a frown.

  “It’s not too far from my place, further up on the banks of the Occoquan River. It�
�s very intimate with a river view.” Bruce stared at the message. “Why would he choose a place close to my home?” His fingers ratted on the desk. He snapped them as the penny dropped. “They just added a docking bay. The perfect escape hatch to get us out of there with anyone waiting outside none the wiser.”

  “We’ll be prepared,” Alex said quietly, watching Bruce. “You don’t seem convinced, mate. What’s bothering you?”

  “In the middle of the day, in broad daylight? I don’t buy it. He’s planning something else.” Bruce felt the unease at battle inside him. “He wants me out of the way the most. Why?”

  “Because you always know what he’s up to before he thinks about it,” Lance interjected.

  “Maybe.” He looked at Richard. “Bring up an aerial map of the area, please.” He got up and scrutinized the map with a thoughtful look. “Morgan said he took her to a house on a lake.”

  “On the banks of a lake?” Keon asked around a mouthful of croissant.

  “No, a house built over the water.” Bruce pointed to various areas on the map. “There are a number of small rivers branching out of the Occoquan as well as a couple of small lakes. Richard, see if you can find a house like that anywhere in that vicinity.”

  “I’m on it,” Richard said and turned the wheelchair toward the door.

  “If you do, email me some photos,” Bruce said. He turned to face the team. “Reece is a creature of habit. He likes water and my guess is that he’s still at that house. If Morgan can identify it from photos, we move in tomorrow.”

  Richard came wheeling back into the room. “We’ve just got a hit on our two mole suspects.”

  “Roy and Karen?” Rhone thundered. Betrayal ate at him. Karen’s son has a rare disease and he personally funded his medication and built a house for her, fitted with air filters, and various safety measures to keep the environment clean.

  “Yes. It flagged immediately because it’s from the same number the text on Wade’s phone came from. Seems you were right, Bruce. He’s looking for information on anything happening at the club last night.”

  “Are we sure they don’t have access to the data about our members?” Lance asked.

  “No, we don’t keep any club information here. Max logs it at home on a secure server that only we have access to,” Keon looked at Rhone, aware of the turmoil he felt. These were the kinds of actions that had hardened his heart against trust and love. “What do you want us to do with them?”

  “Richard, check their exact locations and fetch them. Take then downstairs. Each to a separate interrogation room. Bruce and I will talk to Karen. You and Alex speak to Roy. In the meantime, Lance, start working on an operational strategy for Monday night, just in case we can’t find that house,” Rhone said as he paced the room.

  “We need to get Jim and his team to check this building from top to bottom,” Bruce said deep in thought.

  Rhone stopped and stared at him. “Jesus, I never once thought about that.”

  “It makes sense. They were here for weeks on a supposed vacation and yet they spent hours here. Why? I found them roaming the building on more than one occasion. For all we know, they planted a bomb and are just waiting for the right moment to detonate it.”

  Suddenly the entire ballgame changed with the realization that Morgan had been right. Reece Talbot was clever and they had underestimated him.

  “Clear this fucking building. Stat! Max, call the bomb squad. All of you, get the fuck out of here.”

  “Relax, Rhone. It’s Saturday. Reece knows the offices are closed over the weekend. He’d wait to ensure everyone was inside. What could be easier than killing all of us at the same time?” Bruce’s eyes darkened. “That’s his fucking plan. If Morgan hadn’t told me about what had happened, I would’ve happily gone with her, not once considering he might be behind it, leaving all of you vulnerable and unsuspecting back here.”

  “That’s why he arranged it for midday on Monday. The exact time we will all be present for the feedback sessions with all the operation teams in the field,” Ethan concluded.

  “Fucking brilliant plan, you have to give him credit for that,” Keon said grudgingly.

  “I’ll arrange with a bomb squad to do a covert search of the building,” Alex said as he took out his cell phone. “That way they won’t know we’re onto them. For now, let’s just all get the fuck out of here.”

  In the parking garage, Rhone turned to Bruce. “Thank you, mate. God knows, none of us would’ve thought about that.”

  “He’s vulnerable, Rhone, but he’s not stupid. I’m just glad we have the opportunity to end it.”

  “The sooner the better.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Ah, what a beautiful day,” Reece stood on the patio looking out to the lake. A deep sense of serenity overcame him as he stared at the expanse of blue that lay before him. Rays of lights danced delicately across the water, birthed from the early morning sun.

  The Washington winter had passed in its icy majesty—another reason he hated to be away from California—bringing with it skies of richly marbled blues and trees elegant in their blossoming beauty. He could feel the burst of energy the freshness of spring brought to his soul.

  He tilted back his head to soak in the brightness of the day, enjoying the boldness of heat that always lifted his spirits. The chorus of the birds drifted toward him and in his mind, it lilted with a harmony as gentle as steady ocean waves.

  “God, I miss the sea.” He looked over the rippling lake and sighed heavily. “If Jaden hadn’t fucked up so royally, I wouldn’t have had to leave Los Angeles.”

  His face turned sour as an unexpected sadness drained through him. In that unguarded moment, nature bore witness to regret and loneliness skating over his expression. He stood helpless, caught within its web as it traveled through every cell to pound against his brain. Without Jaden he had been drifting aimlessly, pounding at his mind with every decision he had to make, screaming out for his help, all for nothing. White noise was the only relief he got as he waited, breathlessly hoping for his rough at the edges voice to ease his tormented soul.

  “Fuck, Jaden, if only you listened to me, you would still be alive.” His cry shook him out of the moment of grief, disgusted at the echo of weakness he detected within its thrilling rawness. “Enough. What’s done is done. Now, I look to the future. It’s time to rebuild and conquer.”

  Sundays have always been his favorite day of the week. A day he used to regenerate and indulge in the pleasures of life. Good food, wine, and the soothing sounds of music while he lazed around, blanking out the world. He became one with his dreams, his goals and used the hours to plan and strategize. All in his mind, the only trustworthy tool that never failed him.

  “Breakfast is ready,” the surly voice of Dan Scott broke through his reverie as he disappeared around the side of the house. Reece smirked as he watched him walk away. Dan might not like him but he would never oppose him. An assassin every living being feared, he was and always would be only a follower, and Reece was the King of manipulation who knew how to pull his strings.

  He sat down to the aromatic blend of crispy bacon and warm bread. The sound of Jazz in the background met the morning air and the birdsong outside like old acquaintances. Together, they brought a perfect harmony to the early morning quiet.

  “Ahh … yess,” he sighed as he chewed in appreciation, lost in the notes that rose along with the soft breeze flowing through the open door. The calls from the trees weaved into the notes. His body slipped into a familiar trance. As the harmony reached a crescendo, so did the movie reel that played in his mind. He could feel the rush of achievement as the gun exploded in his hand, the screams of the redheaded slut echoing in the wake of Bruce falling back into the lake—dead before he disappeared under its calming surface, the deadeye bullet wound in the center of his forehead, his reward for years of patience.

  “Isn’t this too cozy.”

  Reece’s eyes snapped open. He didn’t move, just
stared at the tall figure blocking the light from outside, rendering his face invisible, covered in the shadows. The voice was familiar and yet, he couldn’t place it. He glanced around. There was no sign of Dan. Apart from the small knife in his pants, his weapons were in the bedroom, not having expected any danger. He cursed violently at his own negligence. His eyes narrowed as a smaller, female form moved from behind the man.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he grated ominously.

  “Forgot about me so soon, buddy? Not that I’m surprised, especially in light of the fact that you left me to die.”

  The anger and hatred burst toward Reece like a whip. He shook his head in denial as he finally recognized the shape of the man, the sound of his voice. It took a second or two for the realization to sink it, even though it was right before his eyes, larger than life.

  “God, Jaden! You’re alive!”

  His lips stretched into a broad smile as he jumped up. Jaden moved and the light from outside scrolled over his face. His eyes were void of their usual warmth, the energy that always played around in their depths. Reece dragged in a deep breath as his gaze encountered the bandage covering half of his head. The memory of the gaping hole in his cheek, lying in a pool of blood, flashed through his mind. The indecision that wrought through him then, once again rendered him helpless against the same look he’d seen in that brief moment when Jaden had opened his eyes, silently pleading for help.

  “You seem shocked. I wonder, is it with happiness or regret?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I’m elated to see you,” Reece beamed but remained motionless, weary of the cold look in Jaden’s eyes.

  “Of course, you are,” he clipped in a cold voice. He sauntered closer, watching Reece with every step he took, until he stopped in front of him. For the first time in their entire friendship, Reece felt inferior, like suddenly a power shift had transpired. His eyes drifted to the side, searching for Dan.