by Jools Louise
“Exactly. Daniel is affiliated with Flashpoint, but with his links to organized crime, as well, he’s extremely vulnerable right now. I set up a website. Buried Treasure. A little obvious, I know. I’ve given little bits of information about each of the groups having access at some point, creating doubt as to where it actually is.”
“Then what?” John asked, frowning. “They’re going to suspect it’s a setup.”
“Not…necessarily,” Vince said thoughtfully, his breathing still thready. “Each of the groups…compromises people…who are self-serving…individuals. They’re greedy, for…the most part. That’ll be…their downfall.”
“I indicated that I was willing to deal with anyone who could complete the puzzle,” Drew added. “I’ve had some interest already.”
“You’re playing…a dangerous game,” Vince hissed. “Those…boys aren’t playing.”
“Neither am I,” Drew retorted. “We want to hit them where it hurts. And take out a few in the process. And if Daniel gets a taste of what we’ve all been through, so be it.”
“Where’s the money?” John asked, eyeing Drew with concern.
Drew shook his head. “Somewhere they’ll never find it,” he replied stubbornly.
“You won’t tell?” Callahan asked, still worried sick.
Drew kissed him tenderly. “Baby, it’s not my secret to tell,” he said.
Callahan hugged him tightly. “The money isn’t worth your life,” he answered soberly.
Drew eased back, cupping Callahan’s face. “Cally, money’s the reason for most of what’s been happening to us lately,” he said tautly. “Dorothy’s son, Arthur, was harmed because of it. And she was shot because of it. Irina’s son, Mika, was left crippled. And our mate, Vince, is lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life.” His eyes glittered with tears. “My brothers were used as pawns to get more of it. Tied to beds, starved, beaten, tortured. All because of money.” He stared hard into Callahan’s eyes. “I want my life with you. I want happy ever after. But we’ll never have that. None of us,” he added, with a glance at Vince, “until we put a huge spanner in the works. They need to know we’re not playing anymore. We won’t be treated this way.”
“Daniel’s the center,” Vince said. “The network…seems to revolve…around him. He spins…the web.”
“Actually, he isn’t,” Drew corrected, glancing at his tablet, his gaze shadowed. “The one who controls it all is the one we interrogated recently and released to draw out more of the minions.”
“The Commander,” John said.
“Yeah. The Commander. And guess what I also found out?” Drew said, staring at John through concerned eyes.
“He’s my father,” John said through gritted teeth.
Drew nodded as those in the room gasped in shock. “Yes. He was in Pakistan and India. Did some work in Nepal. Special Forces like you. Captured your mom as part of the cult’s sick plans. Found out what she was and coerced her into marriage.”
“He’s evil, John,” Pace said starkly. “I watched his interview. Ryder showed me. The Commander is a total asshole.”
“There’s more,” Drew said, swallowing hard. “Your mom had more than one…er, litter.”
John’s eyes widened at that. “I have more siblings?” Then his face paled a little. “The hit on Nikolai.”
“Before they killed your mother, The Commander fathered two more children. A male and a female. Older than you. Jeremy and Juliana.”
“You seem to know a lot about it,” John said slowly, eyes narrowed. “How long?”
Drew turned the tablet around, showing John the screen, which showed the information in an email. “Just now.”
He hit a button, and a video began playing, showing The Commander holding a female, features similar to John’s. “My darling son,” The Commander sneered in his pompous voice. “You thought that Jayne was special? Imagine my surprise when I discovered you had not one, but two sisters? This is Juliana. Say hi to your brother, Juliana.”
She looked terrified but spitting mad at the same time, her hair long and black, her eyes a pale green. There was a bruise on her cheek, and her lip was split. “Hi, John,” she said through gritted teeth. “I gambled and lost. Didn’t realize who I was dealing with.”
The Commander punched her brutally, sending her flying. “You’ll want to deliver twenty million dollars to the account number we’ve already given you, or your family will lose another member. By midnight tonight. Or I’ll flay her alive.”
The video panned to a sight of Juliana on the floor of a stable block, clutching her ribs. “Don’t give it to them,” she hissed. “He’s the worst kind of monster. Like Dimitri and Nikolai. No compassion. Just a sick, greedy old man. He thinks he’s a man of honor. He’s just a coldhearted demon with no morals.”
“Midnight or she dies,” The Commander repeated aloofly.
Drew took back the tablet. He typed something onto the screen, then showed it to John again. “I have a location,” he said softly.
“You stay here,” John said, studying the map with its flashing locator signal. “I need to go after him.”
“Not alone,” Mick protested, squeezing John’s shoulder. “We’ll all back you up.”
“Could be a distraction to get to Drew,” Callahan suggested.
He flushed slightly at the attention aimed his way. “The location’s a few miles outside of town,” Drew said. “So he’s close by. And he’s probably going to kill her, anyway.”
John was already on his way, Maizie close behind. “I need to go,” Mick said gazing after his friend of nearly twenty years.
“Go,” Drew urged. “We’ll stay here. If this weirdo is as wily as we think he is, he’ll have planned this well. And he’ll want to take care of business. Vince is unfinished business in his eyes. And me since I’ve been the one who’s made things tricky for his organization.”
Mick paused for a second longer, then ran after John and Maizie.
“I don’t need a sitter,” Vince rasped irritably.
“No, you need a kick in the pants,” Drew shot back. “But for now, we’ll make do with protecting your sorry ass by making sure nobody kills you just yet.”
Chapter Eight
Juliana cursed herself over and over at being caught by the likes of The Commander. Aka, her sperm donor. She had no idea where her brother had gotten to, but she worried that he’d been killed already. Spermie was clever, ruthless, brutally efficient…and totally lacking in any parental concern. He’d only begotten children because it suited his plans.
She snorted softly. She and Jeremy must have been a huge disappointment to him. Too bad. When their mother had fled in terror from him, she’d done so to save her children…and her sacrifice had meant they’d lived. All except poor Jayne.
The stable stank of feces, mold, and her own dirty carcass, unwashed for several days. Even the rain coming through the holes in the roof hadn’t been enough to rid herself of the stench. After killing Nikolai Petrovsky, she and Jeremy had stayed around. A mistake, obviously, since The Commander had spies everywhere. And the means to track just about anything. She couldn’t even shift since he’d chained her up fairly effectively. And she just knew the place was booby-trapped because The Commander had made sure to let her know it was. In detail.
She heard a noise and glanced up carefully, aware of the hidden cameras around her, monitoring activity. Yeah, Spermie was smart and expected John to ride to the rescue. It would be a coup indeed if he could destroy John, too. Juliana figured Spermie needed an instant vasectomy. She was happy to oblige. Ripping the fucker’s dick off should stop him procreating any more experimental offspring.
She wished she could warn John, who peered down at her from the rafters, having gained access into the rickety hayloft from the large hole up there. Unfortunately, Spermie had decided to tie her up like a Christmas goose, to a meat hook hanging from the beams, so she had little way of letting John know about the cameras. She tried to point
them out with her eyes. Perhaps telepathy?
John signed to her, and she frowned. What was that supposed to mean? Oh, right. He was ex-Special Forces like Spermie. Something about stay put? She glanced down at herself and rolled her eyes. Yeah, no kidding.
John grinned at her, then disappeared. Shit. He was supposed to come to her aid in a blaze of glory and bullets. What was this stealthy shite? And where the fuck was Jeremy? Men! Never could trust ’em to multitask. The one brain cell they usually possessed was located south of their belt buckle. Not a hope in hell they could actually think beyond their next fuck.
A rock landed beside her. Fabulous! What was she supposed to do with that? The rock had something painted onto it. “Keep your head down.”
Really? How the fuck did he expect her to do that? Her vertebrae connected right up her spine. She couldn’t roll into a ball while tied to chains hanging from the fucking ceiling. Bloody men. Always fucking things up and giving impossible solutions to simple problems. Just get me the fuck out, dickwad!
“I see your brother hasn’t bothered to respond.” Fantastic! Spermie was here to gloat and ponce around. Like an ugly peacock. “I must admit, I had thought he would help you out, but probably he already has enough family members, now he’s married to that disgusting creature, Cameron. And has all those heathen brats.”
“I’m only surprised you had any ability to process that kind of thinking,” Juliana drawled mockingly, her accent heavily British, from the north of England. “Judging by past performance, your only skill seems to be destroying things. I should imagine John and his mate are perfect dads…a nice change from the sketchy parenting you provided. Kill the mother. Separate all the children. Then hunt the children down when they realize who shares their gene pool. I’m so glad we got most of our mother’s traits. You’ve been a huge disappointment so far.”
He smirked at her, his green stare unnervingly cold. “The only reason you’re still breathing is so that I have collateral,” he responded sternly. “I have no compunction against shooting you once I have my money.”
“Yeah, let me loose and I’ll show you how much compunction I have to tear you apart, one limb at a time,” she taunted. If John did have some kind of a plan, perhaps he’d get on with it. This conversation was getting old. And she needed to pee.
He curled his lip and departed. Bastard needed to learn some communication skills.
A large black cat slunk from one of the stalls, keeping to the shadows, sniffing the ground beneath it. Great. How about bringing a lockpick? Not bloody fangs and fur. The cat glanced at her, and she swore it smirked, then continued slinking and sniffing. Around its neck was a device of some kind. More man crap, probably. Maybe the kitty was lost and that was his ID tag.
He crept closer, still sniffing, and paused several times. Maybe he needed to pee, too. Then he slunk out again. Fucking hell! Talk about the slowest rescue in history. She closed her eyes, tuning out the pain from multiple bruises. Where the hell was Jeremy? Please don’t let him be dead.
* * * *
Rafe Cordoba returned to John, laughing to himself. Juliana Hastings was a female version of her brother. Damn! She’d been muttering to herself the whole time he’d been sniffing out explosives. The cameras had been a piece of cake. A looped feed interrupted the live footage, meaning they could check the place out uninterrupted. Spermie was so confident of his abilities he’d grown sloppy. The nickname Juliana had given The Commander was perfect.
“I don’t think she’s too impressed with our retrieval efforts,” Rafe murmured into the comm, barely audible.
“I know.” John grinned. “I heard her. She’s now cursing all of us, in great detail. I’m wondering if we should have brought extra protection to cover our balls. She’s going to be fighting mad when we finally release her.”
“Has Drew sent the dough?” Cody asked, lying on the other side. The Two Spirit crew were out in full force to aid their comrade, John.
“Yes,” John replied. “Sent to the account indicated…with a virus attached…and a little note to a certain mafia boss who is extremely interested in what’s happening to ‘his’ money. That money wasn’t for Flashpoint at all, but to pay off Daniel’s debts. The mafia ain’t going to be happy it’s been siphoned off into The Commander’s greedy mitts.”
“He doesn’t have much time to get here,” Joe said. “The deadline is closing in.”
“He’ll be here,” John replied confidently. “I gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
Murphy snorted quietly. “I don’t even want to know,” he replied.
“I had a few years where I lived off-grid,” John explained patiently. “Fractured a few laws, got into drugs and shit. I knew this mafia boss. Two of his children disappeared. I found them. They died of their injuries. Beaten, tortured, and hung up on meat hooks. Not unlike some of those we found in Siberia, courtesy of Dimitri Petrovsky and co.”
“The Commander is responsible?” Mick asked, speaking into a comm link since he was located across the yard, in the trees.
“For the mafia boss’s kids? Yeah. Once I looked at the network that Drew has, I knew. As we suspected, and now had confirmed, the groups we know as Flashpoint, Fortress, and Stronghold have operated under different guises for decades. Dimitri founded Stronghold, but it seems as though The Commander has been complicit in many disappearances over the years. The mafia boss is a hyena shifter. His whole family are, actually. He’s been wanting a piece of whoever murdered his children for years, but hasn’t been able to find those responsible.”
“So your nefarious friend wants payback,” Rafe acknowledged.
“Heads up, folks,” Zack said, in position on the road leading to the deserted ranch, situated in a valley not far from Sage. The Commander had the gall to set up his operation this close to the town.
A vehicle traveled up the road. An Escapade with blacked-out windows, looking mean and menacing. Night was closing in, the shadows lengthening, adding to the aura of a battle brewing. Their visitor must have used a fast jet to get here so quickly. They’d only informed him that morning.
As soon as the vehicle slid to a halt, the courtyard below erupted with activity. The SUV was greeted by several well-armed, lethal-looking militia types. Rafe eyed the individuals, lifted his camera, and prepared to record the meeting that was about to unfold. For insurance purposes.
* * * *
John eased through the stable roof again, into the hayloft, then down again. He’d watched Rafe identify the traps that had been set, and tiptoed around them. Fortunately, none were noise or motion sensitive. Juliana, however, was strapped to a chain that had some kind of device attached, an additional booby prize for the unwary. Detach her from her bindings and boom!
Fortunately, the Two Spirit crew were old hands at dealing with sneaky fuckers. The Taliban had been masters at this kind of shit. With the benefit of the distraction outside, John hoped he could defuse the bomb without too many interruptions. Could get tricky otherwise. He wasn’t sure how friendly the mafia was in this neck of the woods. Not since Sage’s enforcers had taken out Purdy, a hyena shifter who’d hurt two young shifters, Boomer and Brodie. Purdy had been working with Clancy, the last of that gang. Perhaps the mafia would try to take care of two loose ends and settle another score against Sage.
Juliana appeared unaware of his presence, but he saw her nostrils quivering, catching his scent. She knew he was there, all right.
“Is this where I go all weak at the knees and thank my stars that you came to rescue me,” she sniped under her breath. He grinned. She hadn’t lost her spirit, yet.
“No, this is where you don’t make a move, or this will end far messier than I want it to,” he retorted, just as quietly. “You’re lucky you haven’t set this thing off already, with all that twitching about.”
“You mean the bomb? Yeah, I saw that,” she said as though it was no big deal. “Good job you did or this wouldn’t end well.” The snark left her voice. “Have you s
een my brother anywhere?” she asked. “Jeremy.”
He’d already done a recce, using heat-seeking hardware, and knew there was nobody nearby, at least not alive. Other buildings used by The Commander’s troops had been a little more difficult to search.
“Not yet,” he replied. “Where did you leave him?” He kept her gaze on him, sharp as a razor, needing her to stay focused.
“We got separated,” she replied shakily. “I was taken when I was waiting for him, at a prearranged location.”
“After Nikolai was killed?” John asked shrewdly, working quickly and carefully. He cursed silently, spying a tricky little trap inside the casing of the detonator. This could get a little hairy. He kept Juliana sidetracked until he’d finished the job. No sense in alarming her.
“Yes. I tried to leave a clue, but Spermie was fast. I was unconscious before I could do much of anything. He’s a bastard,” she added bitterly.
John finally negotiated the wiring and defused the detonator, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. “I’ve got people searching the buildings now that the militia are distracted,” he said softly, unhooking Juliana’s arms from her bindings, then rubbing them gently, getting the circulation going again. He hopped down beside her. “If Jeremy’s here, we’ll find him.”
He didn’t tell her that if Jeremy was here, he was probably a corpse since no other life forms had been found yet. There was hope, but he’d expected to find some sign. It made his heart ache to think of another sibling dead before he’d even gotten to know the guy.
“He may already be dead,” she replied, her eyes glinting with tears. “It was my idea to take out Nikolai. He deserved it for what he pulled in Sage.”
“You knew about me but didn’t contact me,” John said, hurt. He’d spent a great deal of his life without any family. Now he had two more siblings, but they hadn’t wanted to know him.
“We didn’t want to put you in any more danger,” she told him earnestly. “The Commander is only one of your worries. Daniel is still a big threat to this town. Don’t underestimate him. We’ve been tracking stuff on the Shifter Net. He’s almost goading people to stop him.”
