by Sean Black
“Good job,” said Ty as the door opened behind them and a look of panic swept across Kristin’s face as she stared over Ty’s shoulder.
Ty turned. His hand went down to his weapon a second too late as he stared down the business end of the rifle.
The Freak stood in the doorway, the rifle raised to his shoulder, a red dot bouncing around Ty’s chest. Behind him stood Hanger.
“Slide your gun over to me, please,” said The Freak, stepping into the room.
The door swung closed behind Hanger, but not all the way.
Lock stepped back, took aim, and fired a single shot. Pulling down his sleeve, he punched through the jagged edge of glass still shivering at the edge of the door frame, reached in and unlocked the door.
He pushed it open and stepped inside, glass crunching under the soles of his shoes.
There was no sign of anyone. The whole place was as quiet as a graveyard.
Lock stayed close to the walls, moving slowly from room to room, searching for Ty.
With no other option, Ty bent down, placed his gun on the floor and slid it across the floor. The Freak told Hanger to pick it up.
“Now hand it to me,” The Freak instructed Hanger.
Reluctantly, Hanger passed it over. The Freak lowered his rifle for a second and made the handgun safe, tucked the ejected magazine into his pocket and kicked the weapon into the corner of the room.
The two men may have been united in a common cause, but it was clear to Ty that The Freak wasn’t about to trust Hanger with a loaded gun. Ty figured that maybe there was a way he could exploit that distrust. Ignoring Hanger entirely, he addressed The Freak.
“I’m here for the girl,” said Ty. “You let me walk out with her and we can forget all of this.”
That drew a laugh from Hanger. “Oh yeah?”
“Be quiet,” said The Freak. “I’m thinking.”
“Kill him,” Hanger urged.
“Yeah, I don’t think that would be too smart. Cops are on their way,” said Ty.
“No, they ain’t,” said Hanger. “You forget I was right there in the car with you and your buddy while you were talking about whether to call them or not.”
“I called them as soon as I found her,” said Ty.
“That would be quite a trick,” said The Freak. “There’s no signal down here. And even if you did, what difference does it make? If you called them, then I’m going to prison.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” said Hanger. “Let me do it.”
“Where’s your friend?” The Freak asked Ty.
Ty shrugged. “How would I know?”
“Never mind, we’ll get to him in good time,” said The Freak.
Hanger stalked over to where Kristin was perched on the edge of the bed. The Freak just watched him, expressionless.
Hanger reached down and touched Kristin’s face. She recoiled. He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back.
“Know what?” he said, looking back over to The Freak. “I think this one here is cursed. She’s been nothing but trouble since I met her.”
Ty shifted his feet, fists clenched, ready to pick Hanger up and slam him through one of the walls.
The Freak waved the barrel at Ty. “Don’t be stupid.”
Ty took a step back.
The vibe in the room had shifted. It was as if Kristin’s renewed terror had released something into the air. The look on Hanger’s face was one of pure rage, but The Freak seemed rapt, like a switch had been flipped. Ty could see that he was getting off on the whole scene.
All Ty knew was that even if he had to take a bullet, there was no way he was going to stand here and watch this. Then he saw Kristin’s hand. It was down by her side, fingers bunched up. A shiny scalpel blade protruded from between her thumb and first finger.
Lock eased down the steps. He could hear voices. He followed the sound. There was a door. It was closed, but not all the way. There was maybe an inch of a gap where it hadn’t been pulled to.
He couldn’t catch the words, but he could hear Hanger.
Lock slowed his breath, listening as hard as he could. He could hear another man’s voice. He knew it wasn’t Ty, so that left only one other option.
Raising his gun, he crept as close as he could to the door. He had no idea of what he would see on the other side. He didn’t know the layout. Barring an educated guess, he didn’t know who was in there besides Hanger and The Freak.
Were they armed? He’d have to assume that they were.
Once he stepped through the door, he’d have a second, maybe less. He weighed his options. Presumably they’d come out at some point. When they did, he could take them out.
He stepped back, looking for somewhere out of immediate view of anyone opening the door.
Hanger sat next to Kristin on the bed. She scooted away from him.
“Oh, come on, you’re not going to get all shy on me now, are you?” said Hanger, letting go of her neck and running his hand down her back.
The Freak seemed totally entranced. Ty noticed that his finger had moved from the trigger. There was maybe fifteen feet between them. It was a lot of distance to cover without taking a bullet, but if there was a distraction…
Kristin still had the scalpel down by her side, where Hanger couldn’t see it.
Come on, kid, thought Ty, willing her to use it.
Hanger’s hand ran lower.
Every fiber of Ty’s being was screaming for him to intervene, to not let this happen, but if he went for Hanger now, he’d be cut down by the rifle.
Hanger’s hand kept moving. Kristin crossed her legs.
Hanger laughed. “Like this is new,” he said.
Kristin’s hand came up, lightning fast, punching up towards his face, slashing across his cheek, drawing an immediate spray of blood. Everything now was happening fast.
Hanger screamed. His hand flew to his face.
Kristin froze, as if she hadn’t had a plan beyond the first cut. Hanger stood up and drew back his fist, rings glittering as he took aim at Kristin.
Ty pushed off, aiming for The Freak. He raised the rifle, his finger moving back to the trigger.
As Ty took two steps, the door flew open. A shape appeared, gun punched out.
The Freak took aim, dead center at Ty’s chest.
Two shots rang out in quick succession.
81
Lock squeezed out a third shot from his SIG. The man holding the rifle was already on the way down, his legs folded under him as he fell forward, blood pouring from the gun-shot wounds in his back.
Ty’s momentum kept him moving. He tripped over the barrel of the rifle and fell on top of The Freak.
Across the room, on the bed, Kristin struggled to free herself from Hanger as fists rained down on her. Before Lock could swing around, Ty was up and launching himself, full tilt at Hanger as Kristin screamed, blood pouring down from her scalp and into her eyes.
Lock took aim, but there was no clean shot. Ty was too close.
Hanger reached for something on the bed as Ty tackled him from behind, wrapping his arms around Hanger’s leg and dragging him away from Kristin.
Hanger’s hand came up. There was a glint of steel as he sliced the scalpel down on to the top of Ty’s head, opening skin. Ty’s hand came up and closed around the back of Hanger’s neck.
Ty slammed Hanger’s head down onto the edge of the bed. He did it again. Then a third time.
The scalpel dropped from Hanger’s hand as Kristin kept screaming. Ty got to his feet and swung a kick, catching Hanger in the ribs, pushing the oxygen from his lungs.
Ignoring the blood pouring from his head, Ty continued his onslaught, huge, heavy kicks thumping into Hanger’s body. Lock crossed the room. Ty was in the red zone. If Lock didn’t stop him, then Ty was on the way to beating Hanger to death.
“Ty! Ty!” shouted Lock.
Another kick and a hard stomp down onto Hanger’s back and Ty finally stopped. He looked around at Lock.
“She doesn’t need to see this,” said Lock. “Get her out of here and call the cops.”
Ty took a few steps back. Hanger was on the floor, curled up in a ball.
Lock grabbed a sheet from another bed and threw it over to Ty. Ty passed it to Kristin.
Ty gently helped her back up and onto her feet. He gave her the fresh sheet to drape around her. He stayed behind her as she wobbled uncertainly to the door.
As Ty followed her out, he looked back at his partner.
“I got it,” said Lock.
Ty walked out, closing the door. Lock surveyed the room, looking for the cameras that were almost certainly embedded in the walls.
82
Kristin sat on the couch, dressed in a robe, as Ty knelt before her.
“Put your head up like this,” he said, dabbing at the cuts across her face from Hanger’s rings. “This is gonna sting, okay?”
She looked at him, a wounded animal, unsure of whether she could trust him. Wincing, she closed her eyes as he dabbed alcohol on a deep cut just below one of her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
The sound of a single gunshot from the basement made her jump. Ty looked at her.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore,” said Ty.
A few minutes later, Lock appeared. He looked gaunt and hollowed out.
“He took my gun from me,” said Lock. “I had to shoot him with the rifle.”
Ty nodded and went back to tending to Kristin.
“Cops?” asked Lock.
“On their way,” said Ty.
Lock walked over to the window. He took out his cell phone.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he said to Carmen. “We found her.”
83
The next day
Propped up by pillows, Soothe reached over to click the button on the morphine pump. The machine beeped, indicating that she’d had all the pain relief she was going to get for the time being.
“That’s some weak ass shit,” she said, death-staring the morphine pump and wondering if there was a way of tinkering with it so that it was a little more generous.
The thought disappeared as she happened to glance up at the small television set mounted in the corner of the room. Frantically, she looked around for the remote control. She shifted around, a sharp jab of pain rippling through her abdomen, as she reached over to her locker and grabbed it.
On screen was an old booking photograph of Hanger. It was a few years old, but his was a face she was destined to never forget.
She jabbed frantically at the volume control on the remote so she could hear the news report.
“Gaudi is believed to have been shot by one of two private security operators hired by the victim’s family. According to police department sources, Gaudi is believed to have led the two unnamed men to the home of retired Las Vegas entertainer Dirk Van Amstel, where the young girl was being held captive. Sources have linked Gaudi to a substantial number of sex trafficking cases, some including underage girls, and law enforcement are also examining Van Amstel’s property for human remains linked to the disappearance of a number of young women in Las Vegas spanning an almost thirty-year period.”
All Soothe could think was he’s dead. Finally, he’s dead.
Back on screen, the news report was winding up.
“Both private security operators have now been released from custody, and it’s believed that given the circumstances, the District Attorney will not be looking to bring charges against either of them.”
Soothe clicked off the television and looked up at the ceiling. She would have thought the news would make her happy, especially after what Hanger had done to her. It hadn’t. Sure, she felt relief, and she was happy that Kristin had made it out, but the news stirred up other emotions in her.
It would take her some time to process all of this. It sounded strange, but Hanger had been one of the few constants in her life. Now he was gone, she would have to face life alone. The idea both scared and thrilled her.
There was a knock at the door. One of the nurses appeared. She was carrying a huge bunch of flowers.
“Some guy dropped by with these for you,” said the nurse. “There’s an envelope too.”
“What guy?” said Soothe. She couldn’t think of anyone who would be visiting her, never mind bringing flowers.
“I don’t know, he was real tall, black guy. Good looking too,” smiled the nurse, handing Soothe a bulging brown envelope. “He was very insistent that I give you this. Hey, do you want me to put these in water for you?”
“Sure,” said Soothe, opening the envelope.
She saw what it was inside and hastily shoved it under the sheet as the nurse found a vase, filled it with water and put the flowers in it. It was only when Soothe was alone again that she took the envelope back out.
It was full of hundred-dollar bills. There was easily twenty thousand dollars.
There was no accompanying note. No explanation. Just the money.
84
The authorities in Vegas had insisted that they would oversee Kristin Miller’s return to her family in Los Angeles. Lock didn’t object. He and Ty had done their job. There were people much better equipped than them to deal with the aftermath.
After being taken from the house, while he and Ty were being questioned, a process that went on for a couple of days, Kristin was taken to hospital to be examined. Her physical injuries were relatively superficial. They would heal.
The real damage she had sustained was psychological. Those injuries would take a lot more time to heal, if they ever truly did.
Lock still found it hard to comprehend how, in a matter of days, a teenage girl could be plunged into such a nightmare world. He’d asked Adorno about it as she was escorting him out of the main LVMPD building on South Martin Luther King Boulevard.
“Sometimes it takes weeks, sometimes months, but, yeah, a lot of times it’s days,” she said. “Once a trafficker has found a victim, they want them making money.”
She paused for a moment. “Part of it, like what happened with Kristin, is shock and awe. Traumatize them so much, and so fast, that they don’t have any time to react. People think ‘well, why don’t they just go to the police?’, but it’s not that simple. There’s the shame and embarrassment and the thinking that they might not be believed. Before they know it they’re in way over their head.”
“What’s going to happen to Soothe?” asked Lock.
“That’s not up to me,” said Adorno. “That’s a call for the District Attorney to make. She was a part of it, but she was a victim once upon a time too. That’s what makes this stuff difficult.”
Lock’s car pulled up. Ty sounded the horn. He’d been released an hour before.
“That’s my ride.”
“You’ll understand if I don’t thank you,” said Adorno. “You’re lucky to be going home.”
He didn’t know if she meant he was lucky to be alive, or lucky to still be a free man. Not that it mattered. She would have been correct on both counts.
Lock gave a curt nod. He started to walk over to the car. When he stopped and looked back, Adorno had already gone back inside.
He got in the passenger seat.
“Let me guess,” said Ty. “She doesn’t ever want to see us in Vegas again?”
“I think that was kind of implied,” said Lock.
Ty sat there. Lock knew him well enough to know that he had something on his mind.
“What?” said Lock.
“Please tell me you got this whole pro bono thing out of your system, Ryan.”
“I don’t think Carmen’s going to have it any other way.”
“Good,” said Ty. “Because I just took a call from one of my Chinese clients out in Arcadia. His son’s gone missing, assumed kidnapped. Triad involvement.”
Lock stared at him. “What did I just say about Carmen?”
Ty smiled and broke out laughing. “I’m just fooling with you. He just bought a place u
p in Montecito and wants someone to overhaul security at the new house.”
“You’re a real asshole sometimes.”
“Only sometimes?” said Ty. “I must be slipping.”
He gunned the engine and pulled out onto the Boulevard.
“Let’s go home, brother,” said Ty as they merged into the late afternoon traffic.
Also by Sean Black
The Ryan Lock & Ty Johnson series (in order)
Lockdown (US/Canada) Lockdown (UK/ Commonwealth)
Deadlock (US/Canada) Deadlock (UK/Commonwealth)
Gridlock (US/Canada) Gridlock (UK/Commonwealth)
The Devil’s Bounty (US/Canada) The Devil’s Bounty (UK/Commonwealth)
The Innocent
Fire Point
The Edge of Alone
Second Chance
The Red Tiger
The Deep Abiding
Avenue of Thieves
The Last Bodyguard (January, 2021) Ryan Lock Boxsets
Ryan Lock Boxset One: Lockdown; Deadlock; Gridlock - (US & Canada only) Ryan Lock Boxset Two: The Innocent; Fire Point; Second Chance
Ryan Lock Boxset Three: Second Chance; Red Tiger; The Deep Abiding
The Byron Tibor Series
Post
Blood Country
Winter’s Rage
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About the Author
To research his books, Sean Black has trained as a bodyguard in the UK and Eastern Europe, spent time inside America's most dangerous Supermax prison, Pelican Bay in California, undergone desert survival training in Arizona, and ventured into the tunnels under Las Vegas.
