Kill him, do it now.
Church had warned her that the gun was a last resort. A gunshot would alert Reyes that something was wrong and she’d lose the element of surprise.
She had a pillow in her hand. Could see herself dropping down to her knees to press it into his face, the barrel of the gun dug deep into its folds. She could pull the trigger then, couldn’t she? She could kill him and no one would hear a thing.
That’s the way, darlin… put ‘im out of your misery.
Blood dribbled down her chin and her teeth ached almost as bad as her hands. She looked down at them, her fingers shaking, knuckles split open and weeping, more than a few of them broken. As bad as she felt, he looked worse.
Esteban’s nose, smashed into his face, was nearly as swollen as his eye, both oozing blood and other bodily fluids. His face was lumpy, bruised knots sprouting up under broken skin, mouth open in an effort to keep breathing and she could see how much it cost him just to take a breath. She could hear the gurgle of blood in his throat.
Dropping the pillow, she took her finger off the trigger.
You can’t let him live, darlin—you know that.
Tucking the LCP into the small of her back, she focused on finding the key, blocking out the truth she heard in her head. Watching Esteban who was attempting to roll over onto his side, probably so he wouldn’t drown in his own blood. His mouth was moving, broken and wet—the words sliding from it sounding as wet and fat as slugs. She couldn’t understand them but she knew he was talking to her.
You walk out that door with him still breathin’, you’re gonna regret it.
She knew he was right but she re-doubled her efforts, lifting the dust ruffle on the bed to look beneath it.
There.
She had to wriggle under it in order to reach the key and when she came up with it, she found Esteban on all fours, head hanging low between his shoulders, blood and mucus a constant drip from his mangled face.
He was still talking but she just added his voice to Wade’s and ignored him too.
At the door, she shoved the key into the lock and took a deep breath and a look over her shoulder. Esteban was on his knees now, facing her—glaring at her.
Please. Please let this work…
She turned the key and the lock gave way.
“… over,” he said behind her, the words sounding like they were too big for his mouth. “… never be over.”
Told ya so…
She didn’t answer. Didn’t give either of them the satisfaction. Just pulled the door open and stumbled into the hall before pulling it closed with a quiet click.
87
They took the stairs as they’d taken the jungle behind them. Single-file. Quiet.
It was dark but not pitch black—as soon as they pulled the door closed and reengaged the lock, a strip of running lights illuminated their path, leading them upward. Looked like Reyes had made some upgrades.
But the stairs were steep, carved into the side of a mountain and mounting them took time and effort. Michael could hear Strickland’s breath behind him. He was exerted but not winded. He imagined Church was about the same.
The running lights came to an abrupt end and he stopped short. “Stop,” he said, practically breathing the word. Reaching out, he felt something cool and solid in front of him. The door.
He trailed his fingers along the doorframe, looking for wires. Alarms. Anything that might trigger an alert that would signal their arrival but there was nothing. Finding the doorknob, he turned and pushed before stepping into a narrow broom closet. He opened that door too, letting himself into a deserted laundry room.
Strickland and Church followed him in—Church closing the door as quietly as possible behind them. The longer they can keep someone from spotting them, the better. He reached into his cargo pocket and fished out ear pieces. They each took one and fit it into their ear while he attached their mics to their shirt collars. They were small, barely bigger than the head of a pin, blending perfectly into the dark fabric of their shirts.
“Fancy,” Strickland whispered, coming through his comm loud and clear.
The stairs that would take them to the third-floor were directly across from where they were. “Straight up the stairs,” he said softly.
Strickland held up the map and nodded. “Pink pony. I got this,” he said as if he’d asked him to pick up his dry cleaning instead of break into the home of drug lord and take his daughter. The crazy thing was, Michael believed him.
Reaching into the small of his back he pulled his back-up piece, a S&W .40, outfitted with a suppressor. He held it out to Strickland and he took it without hesitation. “Just in case,” he said to him before turning to look at Church. “Stay together. Get Christina first and have her take you to the Maddox boy and then get out.”
For a second she looked like she was going to argue with him but in the end, she gave him a curt nod before lifting her Glock from its holster. “Let’s do this—the meter is running,” she said, reminding that he only had her cooperation for so long. If he ever really had it at all.
He didn’t say anything. Instead he gripped the knob to the door that would lead them into the house and pushed it open, leading them into the hall.
Church took point, leading Strickland up the stairs. He stopped for just a moment, to look at him, his face saying it all.
Save her.
And then he was gone, disappeared up the stairs along with Church, leaving him to do as he promised.
88
Find Leo.
Sabrina thought of him, his pale blond head bent over a stack of strawberry waffles, solemn hazel eyes turned toward her. Watching her. Waiting for her to do something. To get him out of here.
She had to get upstairs. She was almost certain that Christina and Leo’s quarters were close to each other and so far, hers was the only bedroom she’d seen on the first floor. Countless sitting rooms, sunrooms and libraries—but only one bedroom.
The problem was, she couldn’t find a goddamned staircase.
She walked faster and faster until she was practically running. Dodging through rooms blindly.
Slow down—you’re getting yourself all turned around now, darlin’… think about where she took you. What she showed you…
Christina had let her through the house. Taken her from room to room—a meandering route that had taken several minutes.
She’d been trying to show her the layout of the house.
Sabrina stopped moving completely and closed her eyes, watching herself walk from room to room, paid attention to where each of them led…
She was standing in a formal living room—one Christina had call the Blue Room. Beyond it was a music room and a small paneled conversation area that housed a fireplace. They’d walked through it on their way to breakfast. There was another sitting room, this one with floor to ceiling French doors that opened out on the veranda.
On the other side of it was a staircase.
Route clearly mapped out in her mind, she opened her eyes. Standing no more than ten feet in front of her was Reyes. He had a gun in his hand and it was pressed into the tender flesh of Leo Maddox’s neck.
“I see you and Esteban have been getting to know each other,” he said, flicking his flat, dark gaze over her. “Where is he?”
“With any luck, bleeding out on the floor of my room.”
Reyes laughed but there was no humor in the sound. Leo’s eyes welled instantly with tears. “It’s going to be okay, Leo—everything is going to be fine,” she said calmly, risking no more than a glance at him before fixing her attention on the man behind him.
“She’s lying to you, Leo… she knows that the two of you are very close to dying and she wants to keep you calm,” Reyes said, pressing the muzzle of the gun just a little bit deeper, the pressure widening Leo’s eyes, spilling tears down his cheeks. “Tell him the truth.”
“The truth…” she looked down at Leo and smiled. “Is that this man won’t hurt you be
cause if he does, your grandfather will hunt him to the ends of the earth and destroy everything he’s built.” She looked up at Reyes, her smile dying. “That’s the truth.”
Reyes glared at her for a moment before he dropped the gun and stepped back, releasing Leo. “Run along now, Leo…” He grinned at her. “Sabrina and I would like to be alone.”
The boy hesitated, no longer afraid. He looked worried. For her.
She nodded, licking her lips so that they’d move when she spoke. “Do as he says—it’s okay,” she said. “You’re going to be fine. My friend, Michael will be here soon.” She said it like she was sure of it. The sound of it—her belief in him reverberating in her voice gave her the courage to look Reyes in the eye. “He’s coming for us.”
Neither of them watched Leo as he slipped away, bare feet slapping against cool tile as he did what he was told. As soon as Leo was gone, she relaxed her hands at her sides, palms turned in so that when the time was right she’d have a faster draw on the gun tucked into the small of her back.
“So now you believe that Cartero will come for you?” Reyes cocked his head, regarding her with the kind of morbid fascination a young boy would find in a wounded animal. “Or were you just saying that to calm our young friend?”
Sabrina shook her head. “Michael isn’t coming here to save me. He’s coming here to kill you.”
Reyes gave her a quiet smile. “Cartero isn’t coming… He is already here.”
89
As soon as Church and Strickland disappeared upstairs, Michael moved. At the end of the hall was Reyes’ suite of rooms. With any luck, he’d find him waiting there and he could end this quickly. The door would be unlocked—the only door in the house that didn’t lock at 9pm.
“I hate it when I can’t fucking see… somebody talk to me.” Ben’s voice crackled in his ear. “Tell me what’s happening.”
Michael stopped for a moment, resisting the urge to turn his comm off altogether. The last thing he needed was a distraction.
“We’ve located the Reyes girl’s bedroom. Church is picking the lock… we’re in,” Strickland said, just above a whisper, and then “Pink pony.”
They had Christina.
He allowed himself a moment of relief before he pressed his empty ear to the closed door of Reyes’ room and listened before turning the knob. Even without the dim glow of the bedside lamp he could see that the room was empty. “Reyes isn’t in his room. I’m heading downstairs.”
“Christina has agreed to lead us to the Maddox boy,” Church said, sounding slightly disgruntled. “As soon as we have him, we’ll head for boats.”
“Keep me posted,” Ben said before signing off.
Michael stood there for a moment, trying to remember the layout of the house. He’d take the stair to the first floor—
Something flashed in the corner of his eye. Movement, fast and small—running past him, down the hall. He turned; his arm shooting out to snag the boy, trying to keep it quiet but Leo had other plans. He dodged fast, spun right out of his grip before knocking into a hallway table, sending a vase crashing to the ground.
“Leo—stop,” he said, his hushed tone sounding as loud as shout. “I’m here to help you.”
The kid stopped and turned. “What’s your name?” he whispered, fists clenched—eyes wide.
“Michael. My name is Michael. Your grandfather—”
That was as far as he got before he was interrupted the sound of gunshots erupted downstairs, followed by a scream.
90
It happened fast. One second she was staring Reyes down, practically daring him to shoot her the next, Sabrina was the one doing the shooting.
He’d demanded she walk over to him and she’d refused, knowing the moment she did, her chance to use her LCP would be lost. She’d jammed it into her waistband on the fly—the only reason he hadn’t seen it yet was because it was behind her. The second he saw it, her one advantage would be lost.
“I said come here, Sabrina… don’t make me do something we’ll both regret,” he said, punctuating his demand by thumbing back the hammer of the gun in his hand.
“You’re gonna kill me anyway—I think I’ll stay right here.”
She could see him shift his hand around the grip of the gun—no doubt getting ready to make good on his threat—when there was a noise upstairs. A shattering of glass on tile.
The second Reyes turned his head toward the sound, she reached behind her, the LCP all but leaping into her palm. By the time he’d re-focused his attention on her, she was already pulling the trigger.
Three times in rapid succession, the LCP bucking her hand as she dove for cover. Reyes returned fire, a bullet catching her center mass, mushrooming against the ultralight vest Church had given her.
She fell, landing hard on the tile her breath stolen by the impact of the bullet as much as her collision with the floor. She found her feet and started running. If Michael was here, he’d go for Leo first—she had to give him time to secure the boy.
Before she’d taken more than a few steps, something hard and heavy caught her in the back of her head and she fell, landing on the tiled floor for the second time in less than a minute. Her ribs screamed in protest, snapping where they’d been cracked by the shot she’d taken.
She screamed, frustrated and desperate to lead Reyes as far away from Michael as she could, she flipped over and raised her gun again to take another shot but Reyes was already on top of her. Standing over her. Pulling the trigger.
91
For a moment, neither of them moved.
“He had a gun,” Leo said, his words tumbling out faster and faster, chased by fear and panic. “Mr. Reyes let me go and she told me to run so I—” He stopped abruptly, eyes wide and terrified. “I left her.”
She. Sabrina. Leo was talking about Sabrina.
He could hear boots pounding down the stairs—all attempts at stealth thrown out the window. Seconds later, Strickland and Church appeared with Christina in tow.
She was older but he’d recognize her anywhere. Seeing her caused his heart to stutter in his chest but he held it together, looking to Strickland for help. “Take Leo,” he said as he moved, down the stairs. In the direction of the shots.
Strickland scooped Leo into his arms and followed. “We’ve got to help her—she’s probably been shot. Church can—”
“No. We stick to the plan,” Michael said, making the landing, running down the last set of stairs. “He won’t kill her. Not until I’m there to see it.”
“Are you trying to reassure me? Because really—you suck at it,” Strickland said, Leo straddling his hip, free hand wrapped around the .40 he’d given him in the laundry room. “I’ll go with you as back up—”
“We stick to the plan,” he said, hitting the first-floor at a dead run. “You and Church take them and head for the boats.” He moved from room to room, leading them toward the veranda closest to the seawall.
He spoke into his comm. “Ben, Church and Strickland have secured the Maddox boy and are headed your way—” He put his boot through one of the French door’s window panels, splintering wood and shattering glass—opening a hole big enough for them to crawl through.
“Got it,” Ben said, his voice tight with worry. “We’ll be waiting.”
He turned to Church. “Keys are in a lock box in the boathouse. Let me know when you’re away. ” He looked at Christina and tried to smile. “I’ll be right back… I promise.”
92
Michael headed for the only place Reyes could be. The place he’d said yes and started this whole mess.
The double doors leading to the study were closed but even from here he could hear Reyes talking. “He’s coming Sabrina—can you hear him? Cartero is coming for you…”
Michael stood to the side, reaching out to push the door open and it swung wide. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, steeling himself against what he was about to see. Trying to quiet the feeling that this time would be no different
than the last.
He rounded the corner and stood in the doorway, empty hands held at shoulder level. “I’m here,” he said, staring at her; face pale beneath the bruises and blood that littered it. “Are you okay?”
She smiled, flashing blood smeared teeth for just a moment before the effort made her wince. “Never better.”
Reyes stood behind her, the barrel of his gun dug into the base of Sabrina’s skull. He heard the distinct clack of the hammer of it being drawn back. “Your weapons. Toss them into the corner, now.”
He did was he was told without hesitation, pulling guns and knives from holsters and sheaths, tossing them away from him until he was stripped bare. His finger brushed against something small and hard and he rolled it into his palm, concealing it in the web between his thumb and pointer. When he was done he held his hands up at shoulder level, palms out. “That’s it. I’m clean.”
“Let’s play a game, shall we?” Reyes said, surveying the weapons that littered the floor between them.
“Games are a waste of time, Reyes,” he said, his eyes darting around the room. Not much had changed. Reyes’ wide heavy desk still dominated the room, a sideboard next to the door housing crystal decanters full of liquor. Behind him was a pair of leather couches facing each other across the low table between them. “Just let her go so you can kill me—that’s what you really want isn’t it?”
“What I really want is to watch you suffer… and then kill you.” Reyes shifted to the side, letting him see his face. “First question: Do you love her?” Reyes said, his voice snaking out from his hiding place behind Sabrina. They stood in front of his desk—or rather Sabrina stood. Reyes leaned against his desk, using it for support, the arm used to hold the gun on her was tucked awkwardly against his side. He was wounded. Sabrina’s expression confirmed what Reyes’ posture told him. She’d shot him.
The Sabrina Vaughn series Set 2 Page 33
