“There’s no way out.” He tosses a bottle of Advil at me. “Nice catch.” I move toward him, and he pours me a glass of water, then slides it across the desk. “How’s the head?”
“It’s fine.” He frowns and narrows his gaze. “Truthfully, I have a slight headache, but that’s probably from lack of food and water. Other than that, I feel fine.”
“Strange. Most have a hell of a headache.” He shrugs and sits.
Opening the bottle, I take out two Advil tablets and swallow them down with the water. “So, is this your place?”
“One of them.” Locutus is staring at me, tapping the gun to his lips.
I don’t say anything. Looking at the armchairs, I sit on one as he continues to contemplate. After a minute of torture, wondering what the hell he’s thinking, he smiles and nods. “You sent a message to Archon. How?”
I shake my head. “You would’ve seen it.”
“You’re good.”
“So are you.”
His smile turns into a smirk. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
My stomach turns over, and for a moment, I think I’m about to vomit up the Advil and water. Thankfully, after a few quick breaths, it settles back down, so I say, “I will not give you what you want.”
Locutus raises an eyebrow at me. “We’ll see.”
A knock on his door causes me to jump, and he chuckles.
“Come.”
The door opens, and it’s one of the men who kidnapped me. “You all right, boss?”
“Omar had an accident. Get someone to clean it up.” The man nods. “And bring the woman in here.” Locutus stares at me and laughs. “We’re going to have some fun.”
The man glances at me then closes the door. Locutus is studying me like a man who’s just found his favorite toy. I squirm in my seat and reach for the glass of water, taking a huge gulp. The door opens again, and the same guy walks back in with two other men. One of them is carrying a body bag. I shudder at the thought of these monsters having a supply of them on hand.
They open the other door, and I can hear them grunting as they maneuver the body into the black bag and zip it up. The other two men carry the now full bag back through this office and close the door behind them with a loud bang. Involuntarily, I jump, which causes Locutus to laugh. Behind me, I can hear Violet as she’s manhandled out of the closet they had her in.
“I’ve been quiet! Please don’t hurt me! Chuck will get you what you want!”
The man tosses her into the other armchair and then positions himself behind her. She’s soiled herself, has a black eye, and her short graying red hair is sticking up in tufts all over her head.
Locutus frowns at her. “You smell disgusting.”
Violet’s head drops as tears fall from her eyes, and she clasps her hands in her lap. A sob escapes her, and she presses both hands to her mouth to silence herself.
“Chuck hasn’t come through. We have no use for you.”
Violet looks up quickly and then back down again. “Chuck is a good boy. He won’t let you down.”
Locutus nods at the man behind Violet, and he hits her hard across the top of her head. She shrieks and covers her head with her arms.
Without thinking, I stand. “Enough!”
The torturer responds by punching me in the jaw, sending me backward over the chair, and landing in a crumpled heap on the floor.
Locutus stands and helps me to my feet. He bends and straightens the chair, pushing me back into it. I can taste blood in my mouth, and when I touch my lip, I know it’s split.
“Don’t hit her. She’s not the one I want you to hurt,” orders Locutus.
The man smirks at me. “As you wish.”
Violet cries louder as she looks wildly around the room. “Please don’t.”
On unsteady feet, I stand again. “Leave her the fuck alone.” He raises his hand into a fist and steps toward me. “I don’t think so. Your boss doesn’t want me hurt, remember?”
He narrows his gaze, lips turning down in disgust, then he glances at Locutus. I keep my eyes on him, and he smiles, then punches Violet in the side of her head.
“Stop!” I yell as he continues to hit the poor woman.
Violet is screaming, I’m screaming, and this vile man keeps hitting her. With all my strength, I push at him to put myself between Violet and the piece of scum in front of me.
Locutus claps, drawing all of our attention. “Stop.”
The torturer straightens his shoulders and takes two steps back from me. I look over my shoulder to Locutus, and he grins. “Give me what I want, or we’ll start removing body parts next.”
Violet makes a pitiful sound as she hunches over, trying to cover herself.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” asks Locutus.
“Yes, I’ll give you what you want.”
Locutus nods at the man, and he hits Violet again.
“I said okay! I said I’d do it!” I scream at him.
“Just making sure you’ll hold up your end of the bargain.” Locutus’ voice is calm, like he’s just decided what he’s going to have for dinner. There’s no emotion, and I don’t doubt that when I give him what he wants, he’ll dispose of Violet and me.
Angus
The room is icy and extremely sterile. There isn’t even a speck of dust floating in the air. Charlotte walks in and sits, a keyboard in front of her. She types then pats the chair next to her. The entire room is something out of a science fiction movie. I’m waiting for a voice to say ‘Resistance is futile’ or ‘Do you want to play a game?’ Sitting next to Charlotte, she slides the keyboard toward me.
Before I can touch it, she says, “You tell anyone about this, and I’ll put the bullet in your head myself.”
“People know it exists.”
“No, they think they know it exists.” Charlotte points at the screen in front of me. “Nomad is a sophisticated piece of technology. It’s a learning A.I. An onion router won’t work on her, she’s too smart. Nomad has access to just about everything from cameras to data you think you’ve deleted off your systems. She’s something else. Like me, people think she exists, but they don’t know for sure. I want to keep her and myself off the radar. You fuck this up, and I will end you.”
The way she talks about Nomad, it is like a lover or a mother talking about her child, and I have no doubt Charlotte will kill me if I hurt it or her.
“You helped create her?”
Charlotte smiles and nods toward the keyboard. “You’ve got work to do.”
Opening Chuck’s cell phone, I find the phone number for Locutus, then I do a reverse search on Nomad. Within moments, it bounces the number around the world before it lands on one destination. Nomad also tells me who the building belongs to, when it was purchased, and gives me satellite footage for good measure. The machine is incredible—it thinks about what you want and supplies it before you can even ask for it.
“Jesus,” whispers Charlotte.
“Does the name mean something to you?”
Charlotte stands. “Keep digging. Make sure you stay on point…” She pauses. “Nomad knows all.” She leaves me alone with her precious computer.
The building owner spiked a response from Charlotte, so I click his name. Page after page of information layers on the screen. His name is Muhazzim Arain, he’s sixty-one years old and owns so much. His primary source of income is from the clothing he exports all over the world. He also has interests in cement, fertilizer, and steel. Arain is listed as one of the top one hundred richest men in the world. The building that Locutus’ cell phone has been geolocated to is the town of Mayto in Mexico.
Arain has been connected to a dozen terrorist attacks, but nothing so far has stuck. He’s on a watch list, but that seems to be as far as it goes. He’s also linked to many different charities, all in third-world countries that praise him for being a philanthropist. Arain has no sons, only daughters from three different wives. His whereabouts are unknown.
; Leaning back in my chair, I put my hands behind my head. It doesn’t fit that he could be Locutus, but he could be employing him. Looking around the room, I can’t see any cameras, although I’m sure they are here. They confiscated my cell phone, but I have Chuck’s, so I dial Kyle, but there’s no signal.
In my sock is a USB with a program I designed myself. Bending down, I pretend to scratch my ankle and pull it out. On the side of the keyboard is a port, so I plug it in and wait. Hopefully, I can bury my remote access tool, a RAT, in some code where they won’t find it. Once it’s downloaded, I extract the USB and put it back into my sock.
I have no way of knowing if Nomad will flag my intrusion, but as I’m using hardware with direct access, I’m praying no one notices my code.
Next, I type in an email to Kyle:
Hey brother,
I may have found Landru. Mayto, Mexico.
Tell Sean to take a vacation and see what he can see.
Please.
Tell him special forces will be en-route, their commander is a guy they call Boss or JT, and they have a dog on their team called Perses. Maybe he knows them?
I’ll be in touch and on the look-out for Sean.
Family first, always.
I attach the exact address with blueprints for the building. As soon as I hit send, I hold my breath. No alarms sound so I think I’m safe, but to be sure, I delete the mail and any traces of it from the servers then send up a prayer to the gods that Kyle checks his email and that the NSA doesn’t find out what I’ve done.
Sean has connections in many countries due to his time in the Marines. He’s scary good with guns, knives and the best with explosives.
Feeling a litter braver, as I didn’t’ get caught, I type in Charlotte Manning’s name. Nothing comes up. No social security, no employment, not even a birth certificate for her, which means she’s been scrubbed from the system.
Now, that is interesting. One by one, I type in my brothers’ names and see all the shit the federal authorities have on them or have had on them. Sean is flagged many times, and there’s a special notation in his file regarding Senator Towell. Even their girlfriends have folders. Interestingly, they haven’t found our association with Special Agent Stephen Jamieson, which is good. It means he’s still useful.
Looking at my file, it contains a lot of data about me. An entire file dedicated to my past endeavors, most of which I thought I’d gotten away with. Maybe I did, but maybe Nomad reconstructed everything.
Lastly, I type in Landru. Not her real name, only her black hat name. She’s linked to Locutus and me. Clicking on Locutus’ file, he’s linked to Muhazzim Arain. His identity is unknown, but he’s suspected of being involved in a dozen terrorist attacks—everything from crashing a bank’s website to inciting a riot in Tigray, Ethiopia, which started a war between the people of Tigray and the Ethiopian National Defense Force. There have been mass killings on both sides. The only reason Arain appeared to have done this is to gain control of a major textile company in the region.
Why would a businessman like Arain want a bioweapon?
One that’s capable of wiping out an entire bloodline.
As I continue to dig, there’s a competitor of Arain, Berezat Kakar, who has undermined him on several business deals, outbidding him. It’s rumored that Kakar may have killed Arain’s first wife. The feud between these two men goes back over thirty years. To say they despise each other doesn’t seem strong enough.
The door behind me opens, and in walks Charlotte. “Ahh, I see you found the connection to Kakar. It makes sense now why Arain is involved in all of this. He wants to wipe the Kakar bloodline off the face of the earth.”
“It will also kill innocents.”
Charlotte shrugs. “These types of men don’t care.” She bends to look at my screen, then straightens up. “Did you find anything else?”
Not knowing if she knows what I’ve been researching, I decide to come clean. “I looked at my family and myself and tried to see if you had anything on Landru. And lastly, Locutus. Apart from the fact he’s linked to Arain, you don’t have any information on him.”
“Not true. Did you read the whole file?” I shake my head. “We believe Locutus is Muhazzim Arain’s nephew, Patrick. He got a degree in computer science and engineering from MIT and graduated top of his class.”
“How long did he live here?”
“A little over ten years. He’s a genius with computers, a prodigy. With his uncle’s help, Patrick Lau has evaded us for years. He’s also scrubbed every photograph of himself off the web with the exception of this one.” Charlotte clicks on Locutus’ file and opens a subfolder that holds an old MIT photograph of him.
It’s grainy as hell. He’s smiling and looks like any other college student. I guess I was hoping he’d have some sort of tell, that just by looking at the photograph, I’d know he was evil.
“How did you get this one? Have you got him on a watch list, too?”
Charlotte nods. “He left it with an old girlfriend, who kept it as a memento of their time together. She now works for us and has been invaluable in helping us build a profile on him. As for the watch list, his uncle has so much money that he comes and goes as he pleases via private jets. It’s a big country, and we don’t man all the smaller airstrips.” She smiles and taps me on the shoulder. “Come on, we need to get on a plane.”
“We?”
“Yes. Sometimes we white hats like to get our hands dirty, up close and personal.”
Seven hours later, we touch down in Mexico. The special forces team that led the previous raid meets us on the ground at the airstrip. It looks more like a dirt track with a couple of dilapidated buildings nearby.
“Gentlemen, this is Archon. He’ll be helping to guide you in,” says Charlotte as she introduces me to the team.
“I’m JT. Nice to meet you, Archon.”
The rest of the team introduce themselves, and when I get to the dog, I crouch down in front of him and hold out my hand, but the dog doesn’t move toward me.
“You must be Perses.”
His handler, John Boy, pats his head. “Don’t mind Perses. He’s well trained and will only greet you if I say so.”
Looking up at him, I grin. “Good dog.”
“Yeah, he is. Perses has served with me for five years. He’s an old hand at this.” John’s lips turn down as he talks about his dog.
I stand. “Is that a long time for a dog?”
John shrugs. “He’s my third dog. The first one lasted three years and the second, only two. A lot of money is invested in them, and ideally, ten years is the norm. But like us, they wear out. They get PTSD, so you have to watch them… look for the signs. Perses is getting to the end of his military service career.”
“What happens to him?”
“He’ll be adopted out.”
“You can’t take him?”
John shakes his head. “I’m gone too often. The best I can hope for is someone in the armed forces, or law enforcement, will take him. The worst-case scenario is a civilian.”
“Worst case?”
“He’s not socialized for other dogs. Perses is trained to sniff out explosives and bad guys. Even if someone adopts him, he’ll still belong to the armed services. A lot of them get put down or left on the battlefield.”
“Way to go, Uncle Sam.”
John shrugs. “He’d be listed as a casualty of war. Even though he has a rank, he’s listed as equipment.”
“Can I pet him?”
John nods, and I put my hand in front of Perses’ nose. He sniffs it, and then I pet his head.
“You’re a good boy.”
“One of the best,” agrees JT.
“Okay, let’s get this show on the road, gentlemen. On the flight down, Archon went through all entry and exit points. Have you looked at the blueprints?” Charlotte asks, staring at JT.
“Some. Can I borrow him for a complete run-down with my men?”
Charlotte frowns but nods
. “Of course.”
She walks briskly ahead of us to the waiting SUVs. I climb into the one with the special forces team.
JT sits next to me in the back, and another member of the team sits on the other side. I’m feeling slightly crushed next to these guys. JT stares at me intently.
“I’m not gay,” I say to ease the tension.
JT smirks. “Neither am I. Family first, always. We look out for each other.”
“Sean.” It’s something he and Kyle say a lot, family first, always, and it was in my last communication with them.
JT nods and holds a finger to his lips. “Seems we have a friend or two in common.”
“It’s a small fucking world, isn’t it?”
JT tilts his head. “I might owe our friend a favor. And we’ll do our best, but it’s been over twelve hours since the last raid. She might be dead.”
It’s nothing I haven’t considered myself. Using Chuck’s cell phone, I sent a series of texts to Locutus, once I cleared the NSA building but he hasn’t responded.
“Run it down for me,” asks JT.
“Okay. There are five ways into the building—”
“No, we know all that. Is there anything else we should know?”
I frown, not understanding his meaning. The SUV lurches to a stop, and the man next to me holds up a device, pressing its button.
“Okay, we can talk freely for three minutes. If the girl is alive, we’ll try to get her to Sean, bypassing command. But how are you going to get free of the NSA?”
I nod at the device. “A blocker?” JT nods. “Sean is here?”
JT nods. “He got in a few hours before you. He’s got friends in high places who let him know we were on the move. Crafty fucker, your brother.”
“I have no fucking idea how I’m going to get loose.”
“I owe your brother, but I won’t put my career on the line for you. I agreed to help rescue the girl if we can, but you? You need to find your own way out of this mess. Can you do it?”
“If I know you’ve got the girl, I’ll find my way out.”
Spark of Deception: MacKenny Brothers Series Book 4: An MC/Band of Brothers Romance Page 10
