A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7)

by Blake, Lexi

  He had one thought in his head. Holding on to that key.

  He would get his chance. He had to stay alive long enough to use it.

  There was the dull thud of a fist hitting his gut and then he felt it. It had gotten bad, he acknowledged. It took his brain longer to process the pain.

  It was taking all he had to remain upright. The ropes didn’t help all that much. He had to waste some of his concentration on those, too. When they’d started to tie him to the chair, he’d puffed up, making himself as big and wide as possible so when he needed to, the ropes would be loose. All he needed to do was release his breath, pull his arms in, make himself smaller so he had wiggle room.

  “Partner, are you still there? Give me a cough if you’re conscious.” Jesse’s voice had grounded him. The whole time, the entire beating, he’d had Jesse talking in his ear. He’d given him updates. They’d lost him in the canals, but they were trying their hardest to figure out who Al Krum really was. After they’d worked over his face in a particularly brutal fashion, Jesse had come up with a name.

  Now they were looking for property owned by Albert Nieland or any of Nieland Affiliates subsidiaries.

  It was just a matter of time. His team would be here.

  And Chelsea would be working her hardest to make sure she bought them some time. At least he hoped that was true. She hadn’t quite managed to be the crazy, cold-hearted bitch she’d used to be. No.

  Another hard punch and he had to keep his fist closed. It was hard, but he thought about how her whole face had changed when she’d realized he was in danger.

  She wasn’t a good field operative. She was horrible because she couldn’t hide her caring for him.

  Her love.

  Damn it all. She loved him. She couldn’t hide it. She’d looked like her whole world was falling apart. It wasn’t something she could fake.

  He was a believer. He’d been stupid to think she would lie. He could find a way to deal with her need to work. He would do anything to stay by her side.

  Including stay alive.

  Another blow. The sound. The pain. Fire licking along his flesh. His vision started to fade, but he held strong. He couldn’t lose that key.

  If they would just stop, just take a break, he could handle the situation. Didn’t torturers take long lunches in Europe?

  “Simon? I need a cough to know you’re still there.”

  Damn it. He’d forgotten. He coughed, the very act making his body ache. His bones rattled in his body as though they weren’t attached to his muscles, as though they were floating around under his skin, battering against one another.

  He forced himself to cough.

  “Good. Stay with me. Say something only you would say so I know it’s you. If you could only say one word, what would it be, man?”

  Only one word mattered at this point. Only one thing in the world could keep him holding on when it would be so much nicer to let go. “Chelsea.”

  “All right. It’s you.” A sigh came over the line.

  Gio stared down at him. “You won’t see her again, you fool. Do you really think you’re going to survive?”

  It was a good opening to let Jesse know how he was doing. “No. I think I just felt my left kidney go. The situation is actually quite dire. I can barely see anymore.” His left eye had completely swollen shut. His right was getting there. His lungs ached. He was fairly certain he would lose consciousness soon. “I don’t think I’ll last much longer. Don’t you need me alive in order to keep Chelsea working? She will ask to make certain I’m still alive rather soon. She won’t just take Nieland’s word for it.”

  “Adam thinks he’s on to something.” The words were quiet in his ear, solid. “Chelsea’s working the system. She pinged the McKay-Taggart site, and Adam thinks he can follow it back. He’s almost there. Please hang on. We’ll get to you.”

  The line went quiet.

  Close, but no cigar. He was still on his own.

  There was a chiming sound and Gio stepped back. Simon could hear him talking softly in Italian. He forced his head to turn so he could see where the other one was. He’d turned, pouring himself a drink. It looked like he was on tormentor break time.

  How long did he have?

  Could he make it work?

  His hands were in his lap. They hadn’t switched them behind his back as they should have. He rather thought they’d been afraid to. They would regret it.

  He slipped the key forward and twisted his hands so he could see the lock. The key was right there. He twisted again so he could fit the bottom of the key into the lock. He struggled with it. It didn’t want to go in.

  Frustration cracked through him, but he held firm. He nearly lost the key twice, his fingers fumbling when they should have been graceful. He touched the key to the lock and it finally slid in.

  “The girl is taking her time,” Gio said in his thick accent as he rolled a smoke in his hand. He strode to the window and opened it. “You’re right. He can’t handle much more. I thought he would last longer. That Russian certainly did.”

  The American joined him. “I suppose the Russian was used to getting his ass kicked. Brits and Americans have gone soft. Too much good living. Not that I’ll be immigrating any time soon. I think he’s out. We’ll have to wake him up for the coup de grace.”

  Simon kept his head down. Best if they thought he really was unconscious. He could see the little key in the lock, but his fingers were numb. He had to make them work the way he wanted.

  He lifted his head to see where they were. The American was smoking, too. Their backs were toward him as they looked out the window.

  “Do you think he’ll kill the girl or give her to us?” Gio asked.

  The American stared out the window. “Don’t know. Don’t care. All I care about is that she does her job. If she can figure out a way to take the do-gooder judge out of the picture, then I say give her a quick and painless death. She won’t get that from you.”

  Breathe in. Move. Just his index finger at first and then his thumb. In position. Breathe out. Slow. Patient.

  As the Italian laughed—an ugly sound—he forced his fingers to turn the key. “No, she won’t get a quick death from me. You know I like to make it last.”

  There was more laughter, which was good because it covered his tiny groan as the cuff eased and blood flow started back into his hand.

  Bloody fucking hell that hurt.

  “Simon, how many people are in the room with you?”

  Two quick coughs.

  Gio sighed. “See, he’s still alive. Maybe I should get the Taser. See if his balls can fry. That should pass the time.”

  Jesse’s voice again. “Upstairs?”

  He kept his hands in his lap. They were still across the room. They shouldn’t be able to see one side had come undone. “Yes. My balls can fry, I’m sure. Go get Al. I’m ready to talk.”

  The American laughed. “You don’t have any information we need.”

  “Of course I do. I worked for British Intelligence for years. I work for McKay-Taggart now. Trust me, I have valuable intel. I can help. Just go and get your boss. He won’t be happy you killed me without giving me a chance to talk.” If he could get rid of one of them, his job would be easier. Already he was prepping. He took a long breath that made his chest ache, preparing to let it out, to loosen the ropes.

  Gio took a puff off his cigarette and slapped his friend on the arm. “Go. Tell Nieland. I’m sure he’ll find it amusing.”

  The American sighed and started for the door. “Don’t kill him while I’m gone.”

  Someone was going to die. It just wasn’t going to be him.

  “Now, let’s have some real fun,” Gio said, tossing his cigarette out the window and walking to the closet. He opened it, likely to get out that little Taser that would most definitely fry his balls if Simon had any intention of allowing it close to his body.

  Simon hunched his shoulders and let the ropes slip past them. He was still tied up
, but he got his right arm free.

  With a powerful thrust that could only come from pure adrenaline, he stood, the chair cracking around him.

  Gio cursed and turned, but it was far too late. Simon wasn’t allowing the pain to stop him. He wanted one thing and one thing only. Revenge on the man who’d made him briefly feel small.

  He gripped the cuffs in the hand that was still manacled and used it to punch out. Gio’s nose immediately broke, the crunching sound satisfying to his ears.

  Simon had him on the floor before he could shout out. He brought his knee right down on the bastard’s cock and let his weight sink in while he hit him over and over again. The world was seen through a hazy film of red and he wondered briefly if his vision was clouded with blood.

  It didn’t matter. All that mattered was this was the man who’d planned on raping Chelsea. His brain twisted him into the man who had tried, who’d taken something precious from her. And her so called father. He beat on the man who’d broken her bones and sent her into hiding for decades.

  Vengeance was his right. She belonged to him. It was his responsibility to make sure she was safe and happy and that her nightmares couldn’t come back.

  “Tag, I’ll take this one.” A familiar voice penetrated his rage. “I know a little something about this.”

  Jesse? He could hear him in his ear, but it was echoed.

  “Hey, partner. That dude’s totally dead. You did a good job but now it’s time to come back from crazyville. I know. Crazyville’s a fun place, but we have a job to do. Chelsea’s still in danger so we need to stop beating a dead horse and get out of here. I’ll try to find you someone else to kill.” There was a short pause. “I always think about killing something else when I’m in this state. Just trying to refocus his attention.”

  “You should write a book,” Tag said. “Let’s try this my way. Simon, get your ass up. It’s time to save your girl and get the flying fuck out of here. I’m tired and cranky and I need to get back to the fucking hospital because my wife is there alone.”

  Simon sat up, taking a deep breath. That was a mistake because his lungs weren’t functioning properly. “There are at least two more downstairs.”

  Tag winced as he looked at Simon. “There were a couple outside, too. We took care of them before we scaled the wall. If you hadn’t killed that fucker I would have for hitting me with a lit cigarette. Asshole. Dude, you are twelve kinds of fucked up. I’ll call and get you a bed next to Charlie’s.”

  He must look a mess if Ian was wincing.

  Jesse looked worried as well. “Maybe you should lie down. We can get Chelsea out of here.”

  Simon stood, every muscle in his body aching, and he was fairly certain he had a couple of cracked ribs, one of which might or might not have punctured vital organs. He reached up and straightened his tie. It was soaked in blood, but it didn’t matter. It was a motion that settled him, let his mind concentrate on something other than the fact that his body didn’t want to move.

  He did leave his ruined jacket behind though.

  A gentleman didn’t leave a lady waiting. “Let’s go and get my girl.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chelsea stared at the screen in front of her. Damn it. How had she found it so fucking fast and why had she bothered trying to find it at all?

  Simon. Because Simon was somewhere in this house and he was being tortured.

  Tears blurred the screen. She couldn’t allow them to fall. She’d already given up far too much. She was supposed to be tough, to be able to make the big decisions. Yeah, some tough girl she was. She’d folded the minute they’d touched him.

  He was her weakness and her strength. The fact that Simon’s life was at stake had made her focus harder than ever before.

  Unfortunately, it also made her more creative. She’d found the tiny little hole in the company’s defenses.

  “Are you in?” Al breathed the words behind her, crowding her. His hand was on her shoulder as he leaned in. “Holy shit. I’ve been trying to find a way in for days and you do it in an hour. I always said you were the best.”

  She wished she wasn’t at this point. “I used a backdoor. They’re updating the system. They’re fine-tuning the way they deliver their own personal satellite radio. It looks like it’s low security, but it provided a back door into the high-level area. Everything is connected. No one thinks about that. This is a full system. If you can get into one area, you have the keys to the kingdom.”

  “That is amazing. I’m going to print out everything you did. I want to read it. I want to see the way your mind works.”

  And then he would also see that she’d pinged McKay-Taggart with her location, but it really didn’t matter. She’d either be dead by then or a prisoner who wished she was dead, so it didn’t matter. It was a lot of code. If he wanted to read through it like a juicy thriller, who was she to stop him? “Okay, but it’ll take a while to print.”

  “Not now, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes wide as he took in the screen. “We still have a job to do. Have you gotten into Gold’s account?”

  She’d been delaying that moment. She needed more time. “I can get into the system. But the accounts have individual passwords. It could take a while.”

  “Get up. Let me try. I’ve got some highly specialized code breaking software on here.” He tugged on her hand until she got up.

  Well, of course he did. The minute he got what he wanted, Simon was likely dead. She had to think of something. Anything. Distractions. He seemed to like to talk about himself. A lot. “What are you going to do with all that code breaking software when you don’t need it anymore?”

  He turned to her, a quizzical look on his face. “What do you mean?”

  “The quantum computer. It’s the ultimate code breaker. It processes so quickly that what would take a regular computer years to go through, it can do in seconds.” Normal computers functioned by processing commands one at a time. They did calculations quickly, but breaking a code took enormous amounts of time if the code was properly formulated. There could be infinite combinations of numbers, letters, and symbols. The modern computer would have to test each of them individually.

  Theoretically, the quantum computer could run them all at once.

  Al frowned. “Only a few people are going to be able to afford the technology, Chelsea. This is another win for the people who truly shape this world. It’s not like Average Joe is going to buy a quantum computer.”

  “But you aren’t really worried about the average man, are you? Rival companies will definitely be able to buy the tech and they’ll use it.” She needed to play to his obvious paranoia. “Business is war, right? This is like mutually assured destruction. Everyone will be able to hack everyone else’s systems. I guess that’s not so bad. If everyone can do it, then no one can have complete power.”

  His face had gone a nice shade of red, and now he wasn’t thinking about the judge or trying to blow his airbags as he went over a dangerous curve. She wasn’t foolish. The GPS would show where the car was every second. Al would know exactly when the judge was vulnerable, and that was when he would strike. Even a moment’s distraction on a mountain pass could lead to an accident. If the airbag blew, it wouldn’t be a momentary distraction. It would be a disaster.

  And the minute that judge was dead, so was her lover.

  “I have to figure out a way to keep it out of my rival’s hands.”

  She shrugged, happy to have given that big evil brain of his a problem to chew on. “If it’s publically for sale, you really can’t.”

  His eyes narrowed and she realized she’d made a mistake. “I can. I can do anything. Don’t underestimate me, Chelsea. If I want to delay the rollout until I find a way around the obvious problems, then I’ll kill everyone who gets in my way.”

  “What about all the other companies who are in some stage of production? You’re not the only one working on this.”

  He went silent for a moment, and Chelsea was a little
worried she’d pushed him too far. Finally he took a long breath and leaned forward. “I told you I’ll take care of it. I will deal with the problems in a way that I see fit. Tell me something. Are you going to get in my way? Are you one of the people I’ll have to take out? Because I would hate to do that. I think after we deal with the problem of the Brit, we’ll get along nicely, but I can terminate any experiment I have to.”

  She shook her head, but she was lying. She would do anything she could to stop him. Anything. And if he killed Simon, then she would make it her life’s mission to take him down. She’d done it before, but she would enjoy it this time. She would enjoy making him hurt on every level.

  The door opened suddenly and Al stood. “I thought I told you to give us some privacy, Bill.”

  Bill, who seemed to be Al’s second in command, strode in with the confidence of a man who didn’t think he was about to die. Chelsea hoped he was wrong.

  She was going to kill Adam if he was playing Candy Crush or something when he was supposed to be calling in the troops.

  Al turned to her. “I expect you to find his account code and quickly, or else I’ll bring your boyfriend in here and you and I can watch as I let Giovanni cut his balls off his body. I don’t suspect he’s quite as pretty as he was before, but so far he’s still in one piece. You’re the only one who can keep him that way.”

  She really hated him. Loathed him. Wanted him dead in the worst way, but she sat down and looked at the computer screen again.

  How long until Adam found them?

  She glanced back and saw Al and Bill talking quietly. Al had taken to wearing a holster with a nasty looking pistol under his arm. He hadn’t threatened her with it. It simply hung there, a reminder that he was in power. Bill had a weapon as well. Two big guns and she couldn’t even run properly.

  If she got out of this, she was working out. Life required too much damn running. She needed to join the cardio club or she wouldn’t survive the next time someone tried to kill her.