Unbreakable s8-2

by Stephanie Tyler

  She stood in front of him almost shyly, the expensive fabric of the well-cut dress draping over her perfectly. Her legs were long and lean and finely muscled and the heels she wore emphasized that.

  He’d forced himself to stop sleeping in her bed weeks ago, when the planning intensified. They hadn’t done much more than kiss, even though he wanted much more.

  “You look fucking fantastic,” he told her, and she blushed.

  “Jem, come on. I don’t look like me.”

  “No, you don’t. And when you’re done, I’m going to help you wash it all off,” he promised.

  Her blush deepened. “Stop. I’m already nervous. I’ve never dressed like this. I feel . . .”

  “Hot?”

  “Silly,” she countered. “Why do women feel like they need all of this?”

  He shrugged. “Armor. I carry my gun, a woman shields herself with makeup and earrings and bags.”

  The meeting was set up for two o’clock. Drea had perfect identification—Jem saw to it that there were no mistakes. The real wife was in federal custody—Landon wouldn’t know that. For all intents and purposes, S8 made it look as though the feds leaked that she was still missing, that they were searching for her. The situation played right into their laps.

  Except Jem would have to let Drea out of reach to pull this off. Landon insisted on sending a car for her. Jem would wait at the second safe house with her, but after she got into the car, she was on her own.

  He’d spent the better part of the month making her brush up on her self-defense skills. She went to the shooting range. He gave her knives that were sewn into strategic places in her dress, ceramic ones that wouldn’t set off any metal detectors. She had pills she could dissolve into people’s drinks, if things got bad.

  “It’s just a meeting, Jem. She’ll pull it off and be right back to us,” Gunner said, but his voice was tight too.

  Everything they’d done over the past months had led up to this. Key and Dare, and sometimes Jem, had spent the time traveling to various ports and thwarting cargo ships filled with women and children. Gunner had the edge, knowing Landon so well, and although Landon might suspect Gunner was behind it, he had way too many fires to put out and his resources were stretched thin trying to plug the holes in his business. Because Gunner also stopped two major criminals from leaving the country with Landon’s men. It was all taking a chance, but that’s what they were all about.

  Word was beginning to leak out that Landon’s business was suffering. Add to that the other men that S8 put out of business, traffickers and other businessmen who would normally support Landon, and Jem knew the walls had begun to close in on Landon.

  He leaned back and snapped a picture of Drea, the way he’d been doing over the past months. And he fed it into the facial-recognition software.

  They’d run tests on Drea for weeks now, with all different programs, and there had never been a hit.

  Until now.

  When the computer started beeping, he stared at it in surprise. Thankfully, Avery had called Drea away, so she hadn’t noticed, but Key had. Stared over Jem’s shoulder.

  “The feds are after her,” Jem told his brother, who gave a low whistle.

  “She ever tell you anything about that?”

  “No. Don’t know if she even knows,” Jem said. “She’s been honest about everything else and it’s the first time she’s come up in the system. Maybe that asshole ex is using her for an immunity plea?”

  “Either way, they’re gonna force her to testify.”

  “Dammit.” Jem sighed, because she was definitely a fugitive. It was one thing to have her hiding out from the OA. But the feds were a whole other story, and once they got their hooks into S8 . . .

  “She’ll compromise us, yes. But Avery’s not going to care.”

  “Avery’s not the only one on the team.”

  “Jem, did you stop to think this could actually work in our favor? The guy’s wife is wanted by the feds. If Drea’s face shows up as wanted . . . can’t we just change the information on her?”

  Jem could easily change Drea’s name and other details, and he would, but that didn’t change the fact that he hated this plan. “She has a right to know.”

  “Agreed. You tell her, and I’ll share with the rest of the group.” Key patted Jem on the back as he walked away, calling, “Hey Drea, Jem needs to talk to you.”

  Drea came over to him. She’d taken off the heels since this was only a dress rehearsal for next week. She was already tugging at the dress and he knew she’d be back in her jeans as soon as they’d let her.

  For now, Avery was busy taking pictures, building up a portfolio of a life Drea didn’t have.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Your face came up on the recognition software.”

  “What does that mean, exactly?”

  “It means someone put you into the system as wanted.” He pointed to the computer and let the screen do the talking.

  “The FBI?” she asked.

  “And they don’t see the picture I scanned of you—I made sure of that. You haven’t been caught, but they want you.”

  “What did they say I did?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Wait. I know. Dammit.”

  Her eyes were troubled. He didn’t push her, thought about how he couldn’t wait until she showered and got all that shit off her face. She’d drop her towel and pull on a T-shirt to sleep in. Then she’d run her hands through her long hair—that was the extent of her beauty routine and she always ended up with hair that looked like something out of a magazine. It amazed him every time that she was so carelessly beautiful.

  He’d fallen in love with her, maybe from the second he’d seen her helping a woman most doctors would’ve gone out of their way to avoid. In that split second, he’d known everything he needed to know.

  Seemed maybe he didn’t know everything.

  Finally, she told him, “It’s the drugs. Morphine mainly. Some Oxy. I never gave it to them—I told Danny they’d take my medical license. But I know the clinic was robbed a few times.”

  “So Danny told them they got the drugs from you?” Jem asked.

  “He’d do anything to get his ass out of a sling. Especially if it means I sit in jail next to him so he can keep an eye on me.”

  “What’s their main source of income?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t get involved in that. I know they did some gun runs. Some drugs, obviously. Maybe some prostitution, but nothing I have any evidence of. Danny made sure I knew just enough to keep me in line and not enough to ever get the club in trouble.”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  “In all your spare time?”

  “Drea—”

  “Jem, you’re going to have to let me go hide somewhere. I mean, this tour of the world’s been great, but sooner or later, you’re all going back to your home base. I can’t compromise what you do.”

  And she’d put it together faster than he thought she’d be able to. “Maybe turning myself over to them’s for the best. They can put you in protection.”

  “You do not trust that shit, Drea. Trust me—you cannot trust them worth a damn. They will fuck you over to make their case. Use you and spit you out.” He heard his own voice shake with anger. “I’ve seen it. Not pretty. I won’t let that happen to you.”

  “Then what, Jem?”

  “How about we finish off Landon first, and then we figure out you, okay, baby?”

  She nodded, because there wasn’t much choice. They were too far into this to stop now. Landon had more heat on him with each day that passed. His contacts were slowly turning on him. It satisfied S8’s need to help people along with scaring the shit out of Landon. Much more satisfying than a slow kill.

  If Landon was trying to send men after them, they weren’t showing up on anyone’s radar.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  It would take everything Avery had to stand in front of the computer screen and see Landon again, hear his vo
ice, watch him shake hands with Drea. But for the woman who’d risked so much to help her, she would absolutely do so, despite the fact that Drea herself didn’t want her to.

  “Avery, it’s too much, too soon. Let Jem and Gunner watch. You don’t need to do this,” Drea had told her only hours before Jem took her to the meeting place three towns over.

  “I’m there. Just remember that while you’re with that bastard. I’m there. We all are,” Avery told her.

  Now she watched Jem return, his face grim. He’d had to leave Drea alone in the house—it was too risky otherwise.

  “She’s still alone,” Gunner told him. Jem nodded, his face expressionless as he sat down next to Gunner. Grace stood next to Avery behind them. Gunner had left a seat for her, but she didn’t want to distract him or Jem. This was too important. No matter how scared she might be, Landon was on the other end of a computer. Drea was the one dealing with him face-to-face.

  “You’re sure he’ll come to the meeting?” Dare asked.

  “He always takes the meetings. Always. It’s his MO,” Gunner said. “If he doesn’t, we know we’re made.”

  And Drea had a contingency plan for that. All she had to do was hit a button and the entire house would fill with gas. It would knock her out along with Landon and his crew, but it wouldn’t be enough to hurt them. It would give Jem enough time to get back to her.

  “Why the hell don’t we just gas and kill them?” Jem asked for the thousandth time, even though he knew the reason well: In case the part of Landon was really being played by two men instead of one.

  No one answered Jem, but Key squeezed his brother’s shoulder.

  And then the doorbell in Drea’s safe house rang. She went to it and answered the door, looking stylish, but nothing like the pictures they’d taken of her. If she was really a woman on the run, she wouldn’t be dressed to the nines and calling attention to herself.

  But Avery knew that rich women always looked elegant, no matter what they were wearing. Drea fit that bill. They’d spent an hour covering up her tattoo sleeve with special makeup, but it was worth it for all of their peace of mind.

  She held her breath when she heard Landon’s voice. Her fists clenched when he ordered his men to search the house, and told another one to hold her still for the photo. The man grabbed Drea’s arms and pulled them behind her back and Landon snapped a picture.

  “We’re on,” Gunner muttered, and Jem started typing furiously. He inserted the corrected information into Drea’s federal profile, information that would only remain for sixty seconds.

  It would hopefully be all they needed.

  “He’s got his hit,” Jem said, his voice raw.

  “You’re a wanted woman,” Landon said with an approving smile.

  For once the feds had worked in their favor, and they all breathed a sigh of relief. Jem lit a cigarette as they watched Drea hand Landon the money he’d requested. Only then did Landon sit her down to go over the final plans with him about smuggling her out of the country.

  She asked the right questions—where would he put her and why? How would she get new identification? How soon would he be able to get her husband out of custody?

  In the good old days, before S8 started fucking with him, Landon would’ve had the power to do that. As of now, Gunner made sure he wouldn’t be able to deliver on that promise, but Landon had no way of knowing Drea knew too.

  The idea was to get Landon working on a high-profile job that Drew could’ve pulled off in his sleep. Donal didn’t have a quarter of the experience or the finesse, and all his time would be put into this dream job. His attention would be divided and that’s when Gunner and S8 would strike at him on the island, on his turf.

  Only then would Gunner know the truth about Drew. And everything was going fine until Landon said, “I hope you have a bag packed.”

  “I do, but you said this would happen next week.”

  “I said your move to your permanent new country of residence would happen next week. Today, you’ll fly out of here with me. Trust me, it’s much safer this way. I don’t like having federal agents circling my clients.”

  Drea paused. “I don’t think I’m ready to leave.”

  “You have to be. Cutting ties is the hardest part, and the most important. Best to make it like ripping off a Band-Aid. We go now,” Landon said, and Jem cursed under his breath.

  “I have personal belongings that will get lost if I don’t collect them.”

  “It’s either you come with us now and we leave in the morning or we don’t have a deal. I’m sure your life is more important than your belongings, no?”

  “I know what’s important,” Drea said, and that was completely for their benefit. She stood, went into the bedroom and wheeled out the luggage she’d packed. One of Landon’s men took it, to search it, no doubt, and then without a final look back, Drea was gone.

  * * *

  There was dead silence in the room as Jem continued to stare at the empty screen. Drea had a choice and she made it, and goddamn her for risking her life.

  For your family.

  “We go in now,” he said. No one argued. Not right away, anyway. After a few minutes had passed and Jem was able to make sure the tracking for Drea was working, Key started in.

  “Bro, we’ve got to give this a day to work.”

  “She doesn’t have a day,” Jem told him fiercely.

  “I think Landon’s bringing her to the island because of everything we’ve been doing,” Gunner broke in. “He’s extra paranoid. That’s good for us.”

  “Suppose he doesn’t bring her where he says he’s going to? Suppose he made her?” Jem demanded.

  “Twenty-four hours, Jem,” Key repeated. “We can get close. But if we don’t wait, we could be risking Drea’s life too.”

  Jem knew that. Rubbed his temples and fought the urge to slam his fist through the wall.

  It was going to be the longest twenty-four hours of his life.

  Chapter Thirty

  The island was more heavily guarded than it had ever been. Gunner used the rubber Kodiak to take them in, letting the tide and their manpower do the work to get them to shore. Grace was waiting on the bigger boat two miles out—she was armed and ready for trouble but knew that those on the boat were headed to the biggest trouble.

  Gunner dragged the boat to the sand, helped Avery out. He stored the boat by the other boats used to access visiting yachts and the like—it would go unnoticed for the most part. They would as well until they got within twenty feet of the main house.

  The guards circled Landon’s house. The last takedown of traffickers that Key and Jem had scored had sent two different teams of men here, all looking to kill Landon. Word was that Landon had escaped, but a lot of his men hadn’t.

  Which meant many of these guards were new enough not to recognize Gunner on sight. Unless Landon had been smart enough to post his picture—all their pictures.

  None of that really mattered. They were heavily armed, ready to take back Drea and take down the man, or men, who had hurt them all.

  “Company,” Key said softly, and Gunner saw Jem smile and make fists. The man was so ready to take someone—anyone—out, and Gunner motioned to him. “Have at it.”

  Jem ran into the crowd of men and threw himself at them like he was a bowling ball and they were the pins. His body actually went sideways and he took down five of the six men, forced the sixth to trip a little.

  “So’s that a spare?” Key asked before he dove into the fray. Gunner followed, his AK-47 held out in front of him.

  “Gentlemen, let’s talk,” he said, and the big guard he’d beaten down months ago stared at him.

  “You—we have orders to bring you in alive. Landon’s going to have fun with you,” he told Gunner, just as Jem came up behind him and put him in a headlock.

  “Where’s the woman?” he growled.

  “Fuck you,” the guard spat, and then he stopped, because Jem was cutting off his air.

 
; “Jem, hold up,” Gunner said, then spoke directly to the guard, the only one near them who hadn’t been knocked out. “The man you’ve been taking orders from isn’t Drew. You’ve been taking orders from Donal, the man who killed your boss.”

  He waited to see if the guard would contradict him, say that both Drew and Donal were working together. Instead, the man looked confused but didn’t say anything.

  He had no real reason to believe Gunner, but he pulled out a picture of Donal and Drew and showed it to the man still in the headlock.

  One of the guards on the ground had woken up, was listening. He was handcuffed and his ankles were tied, and Gunner showed him the picture too.

  “You never wanted to be back,” he sneered. “Now we’re supposed to believe you’ve got Drew’s best interests at heart?”

  “I don’t give a shit what you believe, but if Drew’s still alive, I’m betting he won’t be for long.” Gunner dropped the photos on the ground. “This happened about two months ago. Maybe a little bit before. Probably around the time I left to do the last job. Anything strange happen around that time?”

  One of the other guards started to speak, but the big one barked at him to shut the fuck up.

  Jem knocked out the big one. “Say what you were going to say.”

  “Just around the time you left . . . Drew said that we needed to tighten security. That no one was to come on the island unless he gave the okay in person. Didn’t matter who they were. We weren’t even supposed to let boats inside a two-mile perimeter.”

  Gunner looked at Jem. “Landon knew Donal was coming for him. Had to be because I came back to work for Drew.”

  “Sounds that way.”

  “Tie them up good. Give them the shots and let’s go find Dare and Avery,” Gunner said. Jem and Key used the sedatives Drea had prepared. But first, Jem took the guard he’d nearly killed aside and Gunner heard him ask about Drea. Again.

  “If you tell me, you can keep your balls.”

  “Go ahead and kill me,” the guard said.

  “I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to castrate you and let you live,” Jem explained patiently. “And I’m not going to use anesthesia. I’ll stitch you up myself to make sure you live, you ball-less fuck.”