He’d rather have his Beretta.
Smithe handed Nick the button sensor. He peeled off the backing so that he could stick the device behind the middle button of his leather jacket.
Nick couldn’t shake the feeling that Steele was going to need his help. He had to be convincing and get on the inside of the club.
Takamoto gave Nick a slim cell phone. “If this thing vibrates, you know to get the fuck out of there.”
Nick gave a short nod and put the cell phone into a belt clip, close to his hipbone where he’d be sure to feel it.
“Good luck, man,” Smithe said as Nick headed out of the hotel room.
Nick was too focused to reply. He took the elevator to the lobby and walked toward the entrance and its floor to ceiling wall of crystal clear, unsmudged glass. The brass around the revolving glass doors shone as if it had just been polished. It reflected the holiday decorations in the lobby as the doors turned.
He stopped twenty feet short of the hotel entrance and focused on the situation with Giger, calculating the risk of trying to get on as a handler to back up Steele’s ass. And Kerrison’s, too.
Around Nick the expansive lobby was decorated with holiday lights, massive wreaths, huge bouquets, and an enormous evergreen tree with shiny gold bulbs and white satin bows. It even smelled like the holidays. Pumpkin pie spices and pine.
Outside the floor-to ceiling windows, the day had turned blustery. A stiff wind bent trees and caused holiday decorations to swing. A crumpled newspaper and scraps of garbage tumbled along the sidewalks.
If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel the late-November sunshine and mild climate in Arizona. He’d practically made his home into a fortress in a small community in Bisbee. The fortress was there in case his past caught up with him. In Boston with RED on this op he didn’t feel as vulnerable as he had when he settled down in one location and worked as a PI. With RED he was always on the move and mostly underground.
Or maybe it was his determination to get that fucking bastard, Hagstedt.
After Hagstedt was brought down, Nick would return to Arizona. This time his sister would live with him, safe from harm and far from the place of her nightmares. If he hadn’t had such pure hatred toward Hagstedt for what the sonofabitch’s organization had done to his sister, Nick would have returned to Bisbee after he recovered Kristin.
Nick closed his eyes for a moment. But Lexi was in Boston. He pictured the petite woman taking down men two or three times her size and beating the shit out of the dickheads who deserved it. He smiled to himself. Lexi was one tough little chick, something no one would argue about. He pictured her wicked grin, her don’t-get-in-my-face expression and attitude.
But then in his mind he saw her features soften into a smile in the flickering candlelight from their recent night together. His gut clenched as the feelings returned that always stirred inside his chest when she was around. She’d kill him if she knew how much he wanted to protect her.
Him and Lexi?
He opened his eyes again and started for the front doors as he shoved the images out of his mind. From the start, Lexi had made it clear she didn’t do long-term relationships, especially after her last one ended with the bastard cheating on her.
Hell, he didn’t do long-term either.
Before Nick reached the revolving glass doors, the small RED cell phone vibrated against his hip.
Fuck. Something was going down. And it had to be bad.
He jerked the cell phone out of its clip and flipped it open. His heart started pounding as he pressed speed dial for Takamoto then raised the phone to his ear.
“You’re all blown.” Takamoto started talking without giving Donovan a chance to speak. “One of the bugs Steele planted caught a conversation between Giger and Stalder. They’re on to the handlers’ killings, and they suspect Kerrison and Steele as plants.”
Nick started jogging toward the revolving doors and ducked into them. “Shit. Where are they?”
“According to the GPS devices, Steele has reached Trump Tower. We got a text from her confirming that—and she says she’s still going after the man she thinks might be Hagstedt.” Takamoto sucked in his breath. “Kerrison is at the club, or she was. We lost signal. She didn’t trip her alarm.”
“Goddamnit.” Icy wind blasted into Nick as he ran toward the street where a Christmas-red Ferrari was running, its exhaust jetting out puffs of fog from the cold. Its owner, who looked like he was probably a millionaire computer geek, was standing by the curb talking with a bellhop from the hotel.
“You go after Steele,” Takamoto said, “We’ll cover Kerrison.”
“Got it.” Nick flipped the phone shut as he reached the owner of the Ferrari. He rammed his shoulder into the slender geek, knocking the guy hard into the bellhop and sending them both onto their asses and sprawling onto the sidewalk.
“Police,” Nick said as he slid into the vehicle and tossed the phone on the passenger seat. “I need your vehicle,” he added before shutting the door, gunning the powerful engine, and shooting straight into a narrow gap in traffic.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
Chandra
Prickles ran down Chandra’s spine as she sped through options in her mind.
First option—run for the door and make it past the two muscle-bound bouncers.
She eyed the door. Those two muscle-bound bouncers were blocking that means of escape. She could take them one-on-one, probably. Two-on-one with those guys, possibly.
Second option—go with Stalder, get him alone, and rip his throat out.
The third option wasn’t an option at all. Fight her way out. There were too many men to have much of a chance of defending herself. She could take on a few. Not a dozen.
Option two seemed her most likely bet. And could be much more satisfying if she did manage to rip out Stalder’s throat.
Even as her heart started pounding, she kept that image in her mind and didn’t have to fake a smile as she turned and faced Stalder. “Somehow I missed the memo. Maybe you can fill me in on this meeting I’m late for?”
“Now.” Stalder kept his face expressionless but his eyes told her she was in deep shit.
“Sure.” Best she could do was go along, try to get with as few men as possible, then use every means she could to escape. She walked toward Stalder in a slow and deliberately sensual pace and smiled at him. “No problem. The restroom can wait.”
Chandra followed Stalder around the drapes behind the podium and out of sight of the girls and their handlers. Two men in suits were waiting in the lap-dance hall on the other side of the curtain. Men she’d never seen before.
One of the guys was typical hired muscle. Built like a linebacker, blond, blue-eyed, and he wore a diamond stud in one of his ears. She’d put him at around thirty-five. His arms were folded across his chest, and veins stood out on his hefty biceps. Yes, hired muscle, not brains. The kind of guy who used his size and appearance to intimidate, his strength to cause pain.
The other was a very young Japanese guy. Maybe twenty. She couldn’t tell if he was American Japanese or a Japan native. He was of slighter build than both Blondy and Stalder, dark-eyed, with stylish shaggy black hair. The way he stood, a casual but ready stance, told her he was extremely confident in his abilities. He was probably a black belt in some form of martial arts. Out of the three—the Japa nese, Stalder, and Blondy—the Japanese was likely the one to watch out for. But she didn’t intend to underestimate any of them.
Stalder would pull a gun on her rather than wasting his breath on physical contact.
Blondy would be the one to try beat the shit out of her.
The Japanese—he could probably break her neck in one move.
To the men, Stalder gestured toward Chandra with a handle the girl motion.
Chandra took a step back as the blond headed for her. The guy had plastic zip cuffs. For one second she considered tripping the alarm on her jewelry and having RED come down on the
place. All she’d have to do was unfasten the catch on her bracelet. She could use the narcotic in her rings to knock the men out and then she’d make her escape.
No, not yet. Their team was too close to getting Hagstedt and she couldn’t jeopardize the Little Red and Big Bad Wolf ops. She’d play along with this and see where it led. Their RED team wasn’t after shutting down one single club. They were after the bigger picture.
She ignored the increasingly rapid beat of her heart as she looked at Stalder in feigned surprise. “What’s going on?”
“We will find out soon,” Stalder said in a tone that made her want to shiver. “Won’t we, Chandra?”
Blondy reached her and took one of her wrists. He smelled of Stetson cologne but it didn’t do a good job of masking his body odor, a heavy smell of testosterone and sweat.
“What the hell?” she said, putting as much confusion as possible in her words.
Stalder said nothing as Blondy forced her to turn her back to him and handcuffed her with the plastic zip restraints. He wasn’t rough like she’d expected, but he did a damned good job of making the cuffs tight.
Stay calm, Kerrison.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she repeated as she looked over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at Stalder, this time putting anger in her words.
Stalder ignored Chandra, and Blondy took her by her upper arms so that she was facing Stalder. The asshole ignored her and walked in the direction of the restrooms and the stairwell.
The Japanese man followed. She considered flipping him off since her wrists were bound behind her, then thought better of making a possible martial arts expert Enemy Number One.
She couldn’t hear a sound coming from him, but Blondy made enough noise for them both as his boots clumped on the black-and-white-checkered linoleum. The four-inch stilettos she wore today had rubber heels so they didn’t make any clicking sounds.
Chandra expected the men to take her up the stairs, probably to the room on the second floor where Steele had found the room Jenika had probably been interrogated and beaten in. But Stalder slid his hand down one of the metal rails of the staircase.
A click and then a grinding sound as the four-foot-wide wall to the right of the staircase rose and revealed a staircase leading down to a basement. A wave of cool, musty air pushed its way toward her. A damp scent that included the smell of rust.
What? This part of the basement wasn’t on the schematics.
Chandra closed her eyes. She and Steele had missed this altogether. Jenika was probably down there and that was why they hadn’t been able to find her. If she was still alive.
And this was where she and Jenika could both die. Since this part of a basement hadn’t been on the building’s schematics, RED would never find them.
She’d figure out her escape for herself.
Chandra opened her eyes as the blond guy drew her toward the basement entry. Stalder stared at her with what she thought was the hint of a cold smile. The first sign of a real expression from him she’d seen.
She let herself be guided toward the entrance to the basement, then Blondy helped her walk down the rickety staircase. The stairs swayed and made it difficult to walk in her high heels. She might have fallen a couple of times if Blondy hadn’t kept a good hold on her arm. His grip was firm, but he didn’t press his fingers too hard into her flesh. He was acting more like an escort than someone who might be about to torture her.
She and Blondy finally stepped onto a filthy dirt-and oil-spotted concrete floor. They paused at the bottom of the stairs. To their left, a series of single lightbulbs ran the length of the basement.
The damp, rusty smell obviously came from the multitude of pipes running along the walls, many of which had water-moistened rusted joints, showing small leaks. Some of the pipes themselves were covered with rust, too. A dusty, dirty, and oily scent made it difficult to breathe until she got acclimated to it.
Stalder was on the step behind Chandra, and his cold voice made her spine stiffen. “Take Chandra to the girl so that she can see what happens to spies who don’t cooperate.”
“Spy?” Cold prickled her skin. Chandra put as much what the hell are you talking about into her voice as she could. “You think I’m a fucking spy?”
No one answered.
Blondy guided her farther into the basement, past crude oil heaters and containers of fuel. Odds and ends were tossed or arranged everywhere, but there was no method to their madness as far as she could tell. Deteriorating cardboard boxes were stacked randomly, the box labels long since faded and unreadable. Blondy took her past piles of wooden planks, and near a new white chest freezer that had to be at least twenty cubic feet.
Rusted tools were tossed in a pile on some baling wire next to the freezer, and she cataloged those she could define. A pair of pruning shears, flathead screwdriver, ball-peen hammer, and heavy-duty pipe wrench.
After Chandra notated the tools, she fixated on the freezer. Oh, God. They hadn’t put Jenika in there, had they?
Blondy guided her on. Then they came to a full stop.
Horror swept through her at the sight of Jenika on a bare mattress, flat on her back, naked, and unmoving. Most of her face was bruised and swollen, and there was an indent where something small but brutal had been rammed into the side of her head.
An image of Giger’s three-carat diamond ring rushed to her mind. Anger at the sight of Jenika’s unmoving body swept through Chandra.
She wasn’t supposed to know anything about Jenika so she tried to keep the fury out of her voice, even though it was burning her up inside. “What did you do to this girl?”
“She is in a coma. I’m sure you already know her name. Jenika, I believe.” Stalder walked close to Chandra as Blondy made her face him. “Who is she to you?”
“I’ve never seen her before.” Chandra didn’t break eye contact. “Goddamnit, what’s this all about?”
Stalder studied her with what seemed like an impartial expression. “This is your one and only warning. Tell me who you work with.”
Chandra shook her head. “This is crazy. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Stalder gave a slight nod to the blond guy who’d been so gentle with her. Blondy stood in front of her and her heart plummeted as he pulled back his arm, his hand balled into a fist. Instinctively she wanted to use her skills to protect herself and dodge at the same time.
The Japanese guy gripped her upper arms from behind.
Blondy’s fist headed straight at her face.
Chandra couldn’t hold back the cry of pain as his fist slammed into her eye and cheekbone.
Black spots and white sparks burst behind her eyes. With her hands cuffed behind her back, she would have fallen if the Japanese guy didn’t have a good grip on her.
“Are you ready to talk?” Stalder looked her over as if he were assessing a work of art.
“What the fuck is going on?” She had to give it to Blondy. That had been a good one. Chandra felt tipsy as the faint tickle of blood rolled down her throbbing cheek from where the skin had split under her eye. “I don’t know this girl. This is all crazy. I—”
Stalder gave another nod and Blondy slammed his fist into the side of Chandra’s head.
Her knees buckled. Her mind swam. Images of blowing off these three bastards’ dicks circled her head like chirping birds.
They were so dead.
If they didn’t kill her first.
Fuck them. She’d had enough.
Before Blondy could punch her again, she jerked out of the Japanese man’s loose grip and slammed her head against Blondy’s forehead.
At the same time, she hooked one of her ankles around his and jerked.
Blondy fell hard and started to get up but she rammed her stiletto heel into his scrotum. She jammed her heel so hard it ripped through his suit pants and probably pierced one of his balls.
He screamed and held his hands to his now bleeding crotch. His throat worked like he was about to
throw up.
As Chandra immediately went back into a defensive position, Stalder nodded to the other man.
The Japanese darted around so that he was facing her, definitely in a martial arts offensive pose. At least he wasn’t attacking her from behind.
Honorable, then. Good. She wasn’t.
His first move was a strong kick toward her thigh. Chandra anticipated it and dodged to the side while going on the offense and darting close to him, something she could see he hadn’t expected. She twisted just enough to ram her elbow into his sternum.
He didn’t make a sound, just reacted with a fast blow to her collarbone. The blow would have broken the bone if she hadn’t adjusted her position in time. But the pain from where he’d struck her made her stagger and she cried out.
Then another burst of adrenaline made it easy to focus on him, not the pain.
In time with his strike, Chandra dropped and rolled away on the filthy cement floor, toward the rusted tools.
Blondy was still screaming. The Japanese followed her at a confident, sedate pace.
She twisted during her roll and with her limber body was able to bring her arms from behind her back, under her feet, and then her bound wrists were in front of her. Years of yoga came in handy. Having practiced this move a hundred times made it fast and easy.
Chandra was on her knees in a second. The Japanese guy looked surprised, but she didn’t have time to use the jewel on her ring with the narcotic. He came at her too fast with a side kick. He struck her temple, and the power of his kick sent her reeling, tumbling backward. The back of her skull struck the freezer. More Tweety dicks circled her head.
She rolled onto her belly, close to the tool pile. She twisted and with her bound hands reached above her head to grab the closest tool. The ball-peen hammer. She gripped it tight.
This time the man kicked her ribs. If he’d been intent on killing her, she’d have several broken bones by now, and it was very possible she’d be dead.
Cheyenne McCray - [Lexi Steele 02] Page 20
