“This isn’t safe. Keep moving,” orders Angus.
“Who aren’t we safe from?” I ask as I pull back out into traffic.
“Brother, I’ll talk while you drive, but please… drive. Keep heading the way you are.”
“How long was I out for?”
“Maybe two hours. Can you see anyone following us?”
I check my mirrors, and no one is trying to keep up with us, so I shake my head. “I don’t think so. What did you do?”
“I went back through all your unit’s files. I cross-checked all your names, then I added in Lewis Towell’s information to see if you all interconnected. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me you went on a mission with this guy? Do you have any idea who the fuck he is? Towell is on the shortlist to run for President in the next election in three years. The current President looks like he’s going to throw his weight behind him. Towell’s a powerful man.”
“Angus, calm down. I never ran a mission with Lewis Towell.”
I keep checking my mirrors to see if anyone stands out, so far, no one does. To make sure, I take the exit and loop back onto the freeway, no one follows, so I’m reasonably confident we are safe.
“They ran a reverse on me. I can’t fucking believe I didn’t notice. Whoever they have working for them has mad skills. We need to ditch this car.”
“It’s a rental. Let’s drop it back to them in the next major city.”
“Give me your cell.”
I reach into my jacket pocket and hand it over. Angus throws it out the window along with his own.
“What the fuck?” I thunder at him.
“Too easy to track. We need to get burners. Take the next exit. We’ll park the car in a multi-story car park. It’ll be slightly harder for them to find. Do you think you could steal a car?”
“Who the fuck are you, and what have you done with my brother?”
“We can’t risk renting another car. They’ll track the purchase. If you could pay cash for a car, it would be better, but in the meantime, let’s just borrow a car.” Angus is deadly serious. He looks out the back window searching for something that doesn’t look right and then checks the passenger side mirror.
“What did you find out, brother?”
“You had a mission in South America. The person you extracted was Lewis Towell. It was successful with no casualties. Well, none you reported. The whole mission was highly redacted, but I went in through a back door and checked out the inventory list for that mission. You guys went in with enough ammunition to take out a small army.”
“When was this?”
“June of 2011 in a small village outside of Montevideo, Juanico. You were there for a week. Which is strange for an extraction.”
I have no idea what city we are in as I navigate to a parking facility and park the car. Angus wastes no time in getting out and walking away from it. I pop the trunk and pull out our belongings. The man is looking every which way, and when I reach him, he holds out a hand to take his bag, keeping his laptop clutched to his chest in his other arm.
“What about the laptop? Can they track us with that?”
“Maybe. But only if I turn it back on. She’s powered down for now, and the hard drive and battery have been removed.” Angus pulls his hoodie over his face and then swears.
“What?”
“Your cut. You need to remove it.”
Angus drops to his knees and opens his bag. Inside is another hoodie, identical to the one he’s wearing. “Here, put this on.”
I do as I’m told and remove my cut.
Angus stuffs it into his bag and places the laptop in there too, then looks up at me. “We need to avoid the cameras. You can’t let them see your face. So pull the hoodie up and look down when I point. Got it?”
“Angus, you’re acting like a paranoid mental patient.”
“Yep. A paranoid mental patient who’s trying to keep both of us alive. Now move.” Angus walks toward the elevator and points to the ground, so I bow my head. We get into the elevator with Angus still pointing at the ground.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter.
“You’d be surprised at how easy it is with the right computer program to take over people’s cameras, especially ones in public buildings. Now, keep your head down and follow me.”
No one pays us much mind, and those who do on the street give us a wide berth. Angus and I are the same height. Where I’m bulky, he’s slimmer, but I know he’s been working out. So although he might look like a person you could take out quickly, he’s not—the man can fight.
I follow him into an internet café where he pays cash for internet use and one of their computers. I sit beside him as he taps away on the keyboard.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking for a safe house.”
“Right, of course,” I reply.
Angus stops typing and looks at me. “I’m part of a dark web network. Someone will have a safe place to stay. I only need to find them.”
While he does his thing, I try to remember my mission back in 2011. There were only a few in South America. We took out a drug cartel, got intel on a possible threat to the United States, and escorted a female diplomat out of the country with her baby. That was it. And I’m damn sure we were nowhere near Montevideo.
“Time to move.” Angus stands and walks out of the café. Once outside, he points to the ground. I plaster my eyeballs to it and follow him until we come to an apartment building. Angus hits all the buttons on the panel and waits for someone to let us in. Sure enough, one person in the building buzzes us in without checking to see who it is. He doesn’t stop moving, heading up to the third door, drops down, picks the lock, and walks inside.
“How do you know they’re not home?”
“They hired a company to water their plants and collect their mail.”
“How the fuck do you know that?”
“Do you want to know?”
I shake my head and sit on a stool near the kitchen counter. “What now?”
“We wait till dark, then we move.” Angus moves to the computer sitting on a desk off to one side of their living room. He turns it on and begins to click away, ignoring me.
“Brother, I wasn’t in Juanico in June 2011.”
“Where were you?”
“Christ, this was nearly ten years ago.”
Angus shrugs and goes back to the computer. “You need to figure this out. Somewhere in 2011, you met Lewis Towell. And for whatever reason, all of you are being wiped out because of it. They tracked my computer. Hell, they were probably tracking my cell. Whatever you did, it was big and impacted US Senator Lewis Towell in some way. So much so, they are willing to kill you all to keep it quiet.”
As Angus taps away, doing Lord knows what, I decide to check out the refrigerator and pantry to see if the homeowner has anything edible. The refrigerator is practically bare apart from a jug of water. Not feeling confident, I open the pantry and discover a jar of gummi bears and a packet of chips. Not exactly the healthiest of snacks, I go back to my perch at the kitchen counter, eat and watch my brother as he goes from one website to another.
Beth
Myles sent me a sales contract for the ranch. I’m sitting in my family lawyer’s office as he checks it over. Beauford Westross has always looked after us, and he’s the only lawyer in town. I watch as he tut-tuts and chews on the end of his pen. Beauford must be in his seventies, but he’s still sharp as a tack. His hair and big mustache have gone a silver color, making him look distinguished.
“Everything looks in order, Beth. Those big-city lawyers have laid it all out, and it’s a good deal. He’s offering you more than the land is worth. If I were you, I’d take it.”
I nod. It’s only been a week since Myles came to the house, the same amount of time since Sean left. It’s funny. Once I decided to leave, it was a weight I didn’t realize I was carrying had lifted off my shoulders. Never has a choice felt so right. I started packing the next day. The hardest
part of the move will be the horses. I don’t want to leave them, so I’ll need to find a place big enough to house them too.
“Mr. Westross, do you still spell horses at your farm?”
“Yes, ma’am. You looking for somewhere?”
“I’ve got three, and I can’t bear to part with them. Do you think you could look after them while I find a place? I’ll pay you, of course.”
The older man frowns. “You’re not going to stay in town, are you, Beth?”
I smile and shake my head. “No. I’m thinking of moving closer to my mom. She’s in San Francisco. I think I’ll look for a place big enough for the horses.”
Mr. Westross purses his lips. “Land is mighty expensive there.”
“I’ve been looking. I found a parcel of land, nearly ninety-five acres for four hundred thousand.”
Mr. Westross scoffs and waves a hand at me over the desk. “That’s for the land? No house?”
“No, sir, I’ll have to build a house.”
“Lord, have mercy! You could have a nice home around here, maybe a little closer to town. Have you looked around here? Or maybe even thought about getting rid of the horses?”
Looking down at my hands neatly folded in my lap, I say. “There are too many memories in this town…” I look up at him. “I can’t get rid of the horses. They’re the last of my dad. It doesn’t seem right to give them away or sell them.”
The older man’s face softens. “Fair enough. I want you to take a couple of days to think about this. I need to check over some wording in the contract. You come back at the end of the week, and if everything pans out, you can sign.”
“Thank you. I’ll be in on Friday.”
“You do that, Beth.” Beauford smiles at me and shuffles the papers into a neat pile and places his hands on top of them.
Mr. Westross isn’t a man to waste time, and this is his subtle way to get me to leave. I stand as does he, then I extend my hand, and he takes my hand in his.
“I know there are probably a lot of reasons you want to leave, but this town will be poorer for not having you around. I, for one, think you should stay.”
I smile at the older gentleman. “Thank you for saying that. See you Friday.”
He scowls at me and sits while I smile wider at him and move out of the room.
Outside I’m greeted by Gloria, Mr. Westross’ secretary.
“Hello, Beth. Did everything go okay?”
“Yes, ma’am. I need to come back in on Friday.”
Gloria smiles and opens the appointment book on her desk. “What time?”
“Early as you’ve got, please.”
“Nine o’clock?” I nod, and Gloria smiles widely. “Done! See you then.
Most businesses in town are on Main Street, and Mr. Westross’ practice is no exception. I walk up the street to the diner and step inside. Mavis is in behind the counter leaning on it, bright hair up in a bun, coffee pot in one hand, talking to a customer. As soon as she sees me, her grin deepens, and she ushers me in.
“Bethy, you take a seat, and I’ll get your regular order. Yes?”
I nod, suddenly feeling sad. When I leave, I won’t be seeing Mavis or the diner ever again. I move toward the booth my dad and I shared on so many occasions and stop myself. It’s time to break old habits, so I turn back around and sit at the counter, overlooking the kitchen area.
“You feeling okay, honey?” asks Mavis.
“Yeah, I don’t want to sit back there by myself.”
Mavis puts Coke in front of me. “What brings you into town so early on a Monday?”
“Got made an offer on my ranch. I wanted to talk to Mr. Westross about it.”
Mavis laughs. “As if you’d sell! Hell, there’s been a Trent in these parts for as long as I can remember.” Mavis waves a hand at me and goes into the kitchen to give the cook my order. I don’t say anything. She’s right, though. A Trent has always lived in these parts, but it doesn’t mean I have to stay. It’s time I made traditions of my own.
The sound of Harleys going down Main Street draws my attention, and I swivel around as two men ride past. My heart beats a little faster as the hope it’s Sean springs to life. They keep riding up Main Street, and I swivel back around and find Mavis staring at me.
“When did he leave?” she asks.
“A week ago.”
“Pity, I liked him.”
I give her a small smile and try to look busy as I arrange my napkin and cutlery in front of me.
“You know I never really liked Myles for you. Too prissy. But Sean, you could tell he had substance, and he was mighty pretty to look at.”
“He was only a ranch hand. Nothing more. I didn’t really know him.”
“What are you going to do now without any help out there?”
Not wanting to share everything with Mavis, I smile and shrug. “Not sure. I’m okay for now.”
The bell for the door goes off as someone comes in. As I stare at Mavis, her eyes go large, and she grins, then looks down at me and whispers, “If he’s not Sean’s brother, I’ll eat my shoes.”
I twist around again, and the man pins me with a look. The guy behind him smiles and gives me a nod.
“You wouldn’t be related to Sean, would you?” asks Mavis loudly.
The first man nods. “Yes, ma’am. He’s my brother.”
“Told you, Bethy! Just one look at you, and I told Bethy here you were related. Come take a seat. Your brother was working for Bethy.”
“Is that so?” He quirks an eyebrow at me and sits next to me.
The family resemblance is unmistakable, but he’s a little bit older, and there’s an air of authority about him.
I pick up my Coke and slide off the seat. “Mavis, I’m going to sit in my booth.” I look at Sean’s brother and say quietly, “You’re welcome to join me.”
The two men follow, and both sit opposite me.
“Gotta tell you, sweetheart, the Prez here is taken, but I’m single. The name’s Cutter.” He grins at me and holds out his hand. Cutter is cute, in a serial-killer kind of way. His hair is long in the front and shaved at the back, falling over his light blue eyes, and although Sean has tattoos, Cutter has them on his face, fingers, neck, actually everywhere that’s exposed.
“I’m Beth Trent. Thomas Trent was my father and was the commanding officer of Sean’s unit.”
“Was?” asks Sean’s brother.
“Yes, he’s dead.”
The two men exchange a look, and Sean’s brother stares at me as though he’s trying to size me up. Eventually, he holds out his hand.
“Kyle MacKenny, Sean’s older, wiser, brother. Where is he?”
“He left.”
“Son-of-a-bitch,” mutters Kyle.
He glances at Cutter, who gives a slight shake of his head.
“How long ago?” asks Kyle.
“A week.”
“Any idea where he went?”
I shake my head. “He left his bike here.”
Cutter laughs. “Well, at least we know he’s coming back.”
Mavis comes over and puts my meal down in front of me. “Oh, that boy is coming back. If you’d seen the way he was looking at Bethy here, you’d know it.” Kyle gives me a sharp look, then glances up at the waitress. “Mark my words, he’s coming back. You boys hungry?”
“Yes, ma’am,” they say in unison.
“You like burgers?” Both men nod. “Only be a minute, already got cook on it.”
Kyle waits until Mavis begins to walk away before he speaks, “Does Sean have a claim on you?”
I feel heat infuse my cheeks as I shake my head. “No, not at all. Mavis has the wrong idea. Sean worked for me, that’s all. He knew my dad.”
My explanation feels flat even to my ears. How do I explain to Kyle that although I hardly know his brother, I felt close to him in our short time together? It makes no sense. So instead, I stick to the facts.
“We argued. When I got back to the house, he’d lef
t me a note and the keys to his bike. I’m glad you’re here. You see I am selling, and I have no idea what to do with his bike.”
“Is that what you fought over?” asks Cutter.
“No. Sean is a great guy, and he thinks of me as a ‘little sister.’ I heard him tell Angus that on the phone.”
“Angus is here?” asks Kyle, his tone serious.
“I don’t know. I only know he phoned Sean.”
Kyle quirks an eyebrow. “Trust me when I tell you, he wouldn’t think of you as a little sister.” Kyle lets out a breath and puffs his cheeks, then looks at Cutter. “Go outside, ring Sean, then Angus. See what they have to say. Try and find out where they are.” Kyle glances at me. “Tell him Beth is cute, and you’re going to make a play for her. Then ask what he wants done with his bike. Play it cool, brother, and get him to tell you where he is.”
Kyle slides out of the booth. Cutter grins at me and meanders outside. Kyle sits back down and lets out a frustrated sigh.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He scrubs a hand over his face and looks at me with piercing blue eyes. Unlike Sean, they don’t seem to change color.
“What did he say about me, about the club?”
“Only that he’d screwed up. He said he was coming out here to see my dad and get his head on straight. But with dad being…” I pause, looking for the right words, “… gone, I guess there wasn’t anything here for him.”
“Beth, the fact he left his bike here with the keys speaks volumes. The man lets no one ride his bike. It also means he wasn’t planning to be gone long.”
“Makes no difference.”
Kyle cocks his head to the side. “Why’s that?”
“I’m selling. I went to my lawyer to look over the contracts. Come this Friday… I won’t own the ranch anymore.” This isn’t strictly true, it’ll take another month for everything to settle, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Kyle nods. “I have no right to ask, and you don’t know me, but we’ve traveled a long way. Could we hole up at your place until the end of the week? We’ll sleep outside, we’re used to it, and if Sean isn’t back by Friday we’ll take his bike and leave.”
Spark of Vengeance: MacKenny Brothers Series Book 2: An MC/Band of Brothers Romance Page 7
