His day was beginning to look up.
FRIDAY. SOWETO, SOUTH Africa.
The atmosphere in the van was tense.
Paxton tipped his head back, his gut knotted up, and wished he could call Coco for some wisdom. Right now he just didn’t see a good way out of this.
“Fifteen minutes out,” Zain announced.
As soon as they’d loaded up from Mlilo and left the park both of the cell signals moved. For almost an hour the signals were in transit, working their way west into Soweto.
Each time Zain updated them the lower Paxton’s gut sank.
The signals had come to a stop inside the open-air market, in the heart of the Bekker crew.
Paxton had no problem going after Luke Nodorf. The guy was scum of the worst kind. Paxton knew Bekker’s guys were criminals. Most of them weren’t anything close to what could be called good people. But then Paxton recalled seeing Cameron there, the pangolin thieving kid backed into a corner. How many of the people who worked for Bekker were like that kid? How many didn’t have a choice?
There were a lot of things Paxton could say about his dad. He’d been abusive in every sense of the word. He was cruel. He had no conscience, no problem taking what he wanted, and yet Paxton had never gone hungry. His father might use him like a punching bag, but Paxton always had a meal at home. He had a bed. Clothes. No, they weren’t the greatest, and he’d even shared his mattress with a mouse nest for a while.
What about the families these people provided for? What about them?
Paxton reached up and tapped his headset, unmuting it.
“Zain? Boss? We’ve got to talk.” He knew Coco would want him to do this.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
Paxton closed his eyes and went with his gut. “If these guys are in there with Bekker’s people, we can’t go in there. I reviewed the video from this morning while we prepared, and we’ll be walking into a death trap, for us or them. And I don’t know about you, but I can’t help but think this Luke guy is using Bekker’s people as meat shields. That’s shitty.”
“I see what you’re saying, and I’m not keen on sending you guys in there. This isn’t our way.”
No, it wasn’t.
Sure, some jobs meant they were going to have to kill some bad guys. The difference was that they tried to limit the loss of life and injuries as much as possible. They’d lay in wait, they’d ambush, they could bide their time for the right opening. Running into a situation just because things were going down and their first instinct was to respond was the best way to get their people—and the hostages—killed.
“What do we do then?” Zain asked.
That was another defining factor. Zain was the boss. Besides Admiral Crawford, who was just about retired, Zain was it. What he said went. And yet, he always listened to what they had to say.
They tried to do the right thing. Always.
What was the right thing now? “Luke is going to find out about the vote. Someone is going to tell him. What’s he going to do then now that he has hostages?” If Paxton were Luke, what would he do?
“He’ll either want to kill the witnesses or pay them off to keep quiet,” Silas said.
“Your mike’s muted,” Paxton said.
“Sorry.” Silas tapped his headset and repeated himself for the rest of the team.
“Bekker’s guys are collateral damage. Meat shields,” Paxton muttered. “If they think Luke’s not going to benefit them anymore, they might hand him over if there’s enough heat. We need to call this in. Bring in the cops. The best insurance for the hostage’s lives is to make the cost too great. Luke is going to want to avoid prison time and once it’s blasted all over the news that he kidnapped some white kids he’s done for.”
It wasn’t a foolproof plan. There was still a big risk to the children, but the way Paxton saw it, this was the best way to get those kids back alive.
“I’ll make the call,” Zain said.
Paxton blew out a breath and retrieved his phone from his pocket. Coco needed to be told. He had to warn her before this got on the news. It was probably going to be a long standoff. And he just wanted to hear her voice.
He tapped her contact and pressed the phone to his ear.
The line rang a few times, then went to voicemail.
Dang.
Probably some shit with her brother.
“Hey, Coco. The situation has changed. Stay away from the TV. Call me back and I’ll explain everything.” He wanted to say more, to tell her he wished she was there, that he hoped he was making the right call, but voicemail wasn’t the place to talk.
The minutes continued to tick by, but it felt like he could breathe again. The tension was bleeding out.
Silas leaned over. “You made the right call, man.”
“I hope so. Those kids...”
“This Luke guy, he knows how this can go down. He’s smart. He won’t kill the kids. It’s not in his best interest.”
Yeah, but what if Luke made one of Bekker’s guys do it? What if things went sideways?
Paxton leaned his head back and rode the rest of the way in silence.
By the time they neared the area controlled by Bekker’s crew, police had already arrived on the scene. Whoever Zain had called certainly got people moving.
“Team, listen up,” the boss said. “We are here in a support capacity. Whatever the Soweto police need, we provide. Understand?”
Paxton grit his teeth. They were people of action. Having to sit back and do nothing wasn’t exactly their strength. But in this situation, that’s what was required of them.
Whenever possible, they always followed the letter of the law. And today that meant letting someone else handle a hostage situation. He might not like it, but this was the best thing to do. And, he liked to think it was what Coco would want.
If the cops were involved, if enough media attention was on them, there was hope that Luke couldn’t wiggle out of this. And maybe, just maybe, someone would nail his ass to the wall.
Paxton slid out of the van along with the others. It was chaos. The police cruisers were parked haphazardly in front of the market. Onlookers ran past, phones up. Some men leaned over the top of the building, guns in hand.
“We need a perimeter,” Paxton said before he realized his mike wasn’t muted.
“Yes,” someone else said.
“You heard the man,” Zain barked. “Get those onlookers back, clear the area, let the cops do their job.”
“And move the vans.” Paxton eyed the streets. “Park them across the street.”
With any luck stray bullets, if it came to that, would hit the vans and not pedestrians.
Zain rolled up in his SUV along with an Asian woman and a sour faced man Paxton knew were the co-leaders of Lepta Team.
The hostage negotiator.
Hell yes.
Something was going right.
“Someone needs to go around to the other side of the building,” Silas said off the mic to Paxton.
“Yeah.” He jerked his head. “Can I get two guys to meet up with Silas and I on the north side of the building?”
“Vito and I are on our way,” Brett answered.
Perfect.
There were few people Paxton would want watching his back besides his other roommate, Vito, and the ex-CIA agent. They were solid under pressure.
Paxton fell in line with Silas and together they jogged the perimeter that was being steadily pushed back. This sure as hell wasn’t their typical kind of job, but so far every guy he saw was taking their role seriously.
Brett and Vito met Silas and Paxton near the north-east corner of the building, away from the action. A single, solitary police cruiser blocked traffic, but there was no officer in sight, no stand-off going down here. And why not?
A large, rolling door was big enough for a delivery truck to back into. It was plenty big enough for a lot of people to escape through.
No sooner had that thought crossed Paxton’s mind t
han the door began to rise.
The three men at Paxton’s side zeroed in on that movement.
“Bring it in,” Paxton said.
He lifted his rifle and aimed.
A pair of headlights flicked on, the high beams making it hard to see the color, make or model of the car, much less who was inside.
“Stop,” Paxton bellowed.
The car revved its engine and shot forward.
He fired, aiming for a tire, then sprinted out of the way.
“Dark Mercedes headed north with suspects inside,” Brett said over the headset.
Paxton sprinted after the car.
A Mercedes?
Hadn’t Luke been driving a dark colored Mercedes earlier? Had they just allowed Luke to escape?
“Paxton? Anyone seen Paxton?” Zain said in a rush.
“We’re here on the north side of the building.” Paxton stopped and bent forward, breathing in deep breaths. “I think Luke just got away.”
Zain’s voice was grim when he spoke. “That’s not our biggest problem right now.”
“What? What is it?” Paxton turned toward the Bekker building, as if he could see Zain if he looked hard enough.
22.
Friday. Soweto, South Africa.
Coco leaned against the front passenger seat, her arms tied to the headrest with a collection of zip ties that were cutting into her skin.
Ebrahim was quiet now. He’d spent well over half an hour yelling at her as he drove the stolen car toward the city.
If she’d just gone to check on the pangolins by herself like she’d wanted to, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. In the split second when she’d first seen Ebrahim, she hadn’t thought about herself. No, she’d first thought about Lacey. How she’d confided that maybe she wasn’t as anti-baby as she’d been. That maybe her and Shane would start a family. Then there was Cane. He was her twin and regardless of what he’d done to her, he did good things. People believed in him.
Coco could not risk their lives.
There’d been no choice for her except to go with Ebrahim, for their sake.
From the man’s ranting, she’d gathered she was the source of all his life’s problems. From why his family had been forced to move to why his plans hadn’t worked out and all the way to him being in trouble with his boss. It was her fault.
So she saved her effort and didn’t bother speaking to him. Her mind was better put to thinking of a way out of this.
If he ignored her for a few minutes, she could get the headrest to come up, out of it’s fastening and she’d be free. At that point it was just a matter of throwing herself out of the car and hoping for the best. There was no point making such an escape on the highway. When she hit the ground, she’d get far to hurt to escape and just do Ebrahim’s job for him. No, she had to wait, bide her time until he got off the highway and was on a city street. That was when she’d make her move.
All she had to do was be patient.
Paxton would be proud of her. She wasn’t just thinking about reaching for the nearest blunt object, she had safety in mind. Because she wanted to get home and see him.
“What?” Ebrahim barked into the phone.
He grumbled words she couldn’t understand and grunted. The conversation was one sided in nature, giving her no idea what he was up to.
“Fine. I’ll be there.” He tossed the phone into the passenger seat.
Should she say something?
He glanced at her in the rearview mirror and she swallowed.
Silence was better.
“Your luck is running out,” he said.
What did that mean?
She didn’t give him the pleasure of her asking.
With any luck, Paxton and the others had her brothers. They’d find out Ebrahim had her and they’d come looking. If her luck was holding, they’d cross paths and force Ebrahim to stop. It would be a lot like how she’d first met Paxton. But the car kept going. No van pulled out in their path to stop them. No help was in sight.
They drove for another ten minutes before Ebrahim changed course, heading not for Soweto, but Johannesburg.
“Where are we going?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Someone wants a word without,” he said.
Who? And why?
She hunched her shoulders and wished she hadn’t spoken.
At long last Ebrahim turned off the highway.
This was going to be her chance.
She slid her elbows as far back as the zip ties would allow then felt around the base of the headrest for the buttons. It would be awkward to press them and lift the headrest, but it was her only chance.
The car whipped into a parking lot and a shadow stretched over her window. She glanced up into the face of a large, white bald man.
Her stomach knotted and without asking she knew.
This was one of Luke’s men.
“No.” She jabbed at the buttons and yanked at the headrest, but she couldn’t get it out.
The door opened and strong hands grabbed her. A knife slid along her wrist, freeing her hands. She twisted, kicking and hitting the man, but she didn’t faze him one bit.
Luke had taken her little brothers. If he was coming after her, that meant they were free, right? She couldn’t allow herself to become his next piece of leverage. Because Paxton would come after her and she couldn’t allow him to get caught up in whatever this was.
“Quit fighting,” Ebrahim bellowed.
It was the metal click of the hammer being drawn back that stopped her struggling.
The bald man grabbed her by the wrists and hauled her out of Ebrahim’s car.
A familiar, dark Mercedes sat idling nearby. The man opened the front passenger seat and shoved her inside. Coco sucked down air and locked eyes with the man in the back seat.
Luke had a small, black boy on his lap. The poor child had passed out. Luke held one arm securely around the child, but in his hand was a gun aimed toward the middle of the car. Luke’s other arm was slung around the shoulders of Coco’s younger brother, and the youngest was on his lap. She’d glimpsed a woman she assumed was Mia in the back seat.
What the hell was happening?
Where was Paxton?
“Nice of you to join us.” Luke stared back at her.
“What have you done, Luke?”
The driver got back in the front seat and in a moment, they were gone.
“I just rescued you. Show a little gratitude?” He snorted and smiled that narrowed eyes, sultry type of smile. She’d swooned over it in high school. Now it just made her sick.
“I should thank you for kidnapping me? I should thank you for beating up my step-mother? I should thank you for scaring my little brothers?” She twisted in her seat and stared at James and Patrick, willing them to hold it together.
They were precious boys. Fair skinned, blonde hair. The spitting image of their mother, but with Dad’s nose and mouth. They were Coco’s blood. Her family. Even if they were night and day.
“You guys okay?” she asked softly.
James nodded.
“This is your brother’s fault, you know? If he’d just fall in line.” Luke’s gaze narrowed. “You’re a smart woman, Coco. Maybe we could work something out?”
“Like what?” She snorted. “You already tried that with Mia. It didn’t work. What in the hell do you think I could do for you?”
That made Luke frown.
“Your brother needs to learn a lesson,” Luke growled.
“He did.” Now Coco twisted to stare at Luke. “He learned his lesson so well he out-smarted you. This vote you’ve been so worried about? He never wrote down his meetings. He didn’t send an email or even write it down. He talked to people, and you know what? He won. Because he will never be a puppet to someone like you.”
Cane was too good. He’d always do the right thing if he could, and he’d die before he let someone like Luke make him into a patsy. She’d never been prouder of Cane than she
was in that moment. They had their own hills, the things that were important to them, but now she got it. She saw what her brother was trying to do, and she believed in him.
Luke tipped his chin up. “He hasn’t won het.”
“Hasn’t he? Then I guess you haven’t heard the news yet.” She chuckled, fully aware she was drawing Luke’s wrath out.
But if he was mad at her, if he took that out on her, he wouldn’t bother the boys. They’d be safe so long it was her Luke was mad at.
“What?” he snapped.
“The vote you wanted to stop? It’s already happened, you butter faced dick socket.”
Luke struck out so fast she didn’t see his fist coming. She was vaguely aware of her body, her head falling back against the dash and sliding out of the seat as her world faded to black.
FRIDAY. SOWETO, SOUTH Africa.
Paxton sprinted past the perimeter, past his friends.
Coco had been taken by the very man who’d already tried—and failed—to kill her. That time Paxton had been there to save her. This time he hadn’t been there for her.
“Pax? Pax!” Silas bellowed.
Paxton ignored him and kept going, past the cop cars.
He caught sight of Zain standing behind a police van speaking with two officers. A short distance away the SUV Zain had ridden in idled, the windows down, one of the fresh meat guys at the bumper watching the crowd.
That was Paxton’s ride.
He changed his course and in three strides he was at the driver’s side door. He pulled it open and climbed inside, pausing only to unclip his rifle from his vest and slid it into the passenger seat.
Silas ran straight into the hood of the SUV, staring at Paxton.
He leaned out the window and yelled, “Move.”
Silas shook his head and Paxton didn’t have to hear him to know he was cursing a blue streak, probably in Spanish. Silas always did go bilingual when he was really annoyed with Paxton.
In the moments that Silas and Paxton stared at each other, Vito and Brett caught up. Silas glanced over his shoulder and said something to them.
Paxton shifted the SUV into reverse. He was getting out of here.
Dangerous Heat (Aegis Group, #8) Page 24
