by K. D Clark
Isabella’s eyes are wide with fear, but she nods her head and runs to Hazel’s room. If I can get my staff and Hazel to the underground safe house, the security team and I can focus on taking out Miles’s army.
I walk to the front of the house, where Mike has everyone gearing up. My team stores an arsenal of weapons, and they would do what they could. It feels eerily like a scene from a twenties mob movie. Everyone’s armed and dangerous. I’d known that Miles would come, and he was smart to attack in the middle of the night like this. I lock and load my assault rifle and handgun.
“Sir, we have incoming hostiles! They are approximately seven minutes away. Our team is in a position to attack. We will get you and your guest along with staff to the underground safe house immediately,” declares Mike.
I would laugh if the situation weren't so dangerous. “I’m not running.”
Only a weak man hides while his men risk their lives. Adrenalin pumps through my veins. I want to get my hands on Miles and take care of him myself. The house shakes, and we can hear the helicopters coming in hot. I already have an army of men stationed outside. Looking out the window, I can see military-grade helicopters, equip with machine guns and missile launchers.
Damn! They’re probably using this little display as a distraction. A full-scale attack rained down on my compound. My team fires back, taking down one of the choppers. Miles’s men rush out of the two helicopters that successfully lands. My men fight hard, exchanging bullet for bullet, but when I see multiple army-grade vehicles pull onto the property, I know we’re outnumbered. My body shakes with the urge to fight on the front lawn, but I refuse to move until I see Miles. Mike yells orders so fast I can barely keep up.
Son of a bitch.
“How many men do we have at the other entrances?” I ask Mike.
He grabs the walkie talkie attached to his shoulder and speaks into it. “South wing?”
“Check,” someone answers him.
“West wing?” he asks. He lets the button go, waiting for a response. Nothing. “West wing,” he repeats.
Fuck! I take off running.
“Maverick, wait,” I hear Mike yell behind me, but I’m not waiting. The west wing holds the tunnel that goes straight down to the underground safe house. The assault rifle around my body is heavy, but I don't allow it to weigh me down. I whip around the corner and come face to face with the barrel of Miles’s handgun. A million thoughts should have been running through my head, but all I can think about is Hazel. If I’m dead, Miles would find her and kill her.
Time seems to slow as a small smile spreads across Miles’s oily face. “You thought you could come onto my property and take what’s mine?”
“She’s not yours,” I seethe. I could correct him and tell him that she hopped on my boat, but what good would that do?
He lifts the gun as if he’s going to slap me across the face with it, and that’s when I jump into action. I charge at him, grabbing him around the waist and wrestling him to the ground.
A shot rings out, the sound echoing off the walls. I look around trying to find who got hit, and that’s when I feel it. Warm liquid oozes from my body. Miles throws me off of him like I’m nothing more than a fucking rag doll. I lay on my back. One of his men aims a handgun at me as if I’m still a threat. I can’t feel anything. My body is weak.
If the bullet hit a major artery, I’m fucked. My breathing is ragged as I hold my hand over my wound to stop the bleeding. I’m fading in and out. In and out. My head throbs. I need help. I can’t die like this.
Miles stands above and shakes his head. “Pathetic.”
He turns to the man that shot me.
“I know that bitch is here somewhere! Find her!” he shouts.
The man noticed Perisa, one of my housekeepers, hiding in the corner and confronts her at gunpoint. I see it from my peripheral.
“Tell me where they are, or I will kill you and your entire family!” he spits at her.
“Por el tunel,” she cries, pointing toward the wall. “Por favor no me lastimes!”
Through the tunnel. Please don’t hurt me.
Fuck, fuck, fuck! They’ll find Hazel. I failed.
The man slaps her across the face with his handgun, and she falls to the floor. My vision blurs as I try hard to stay awake. Miles’s voice is gone.
I hear the helicopters circling the compound. I know he has what he wanted. I can feel it. My body won’t let me rise. Like a weight has me pinned to the ground. More shots are unleashed on the security headquarters. I hear my team fire back weakly. The house shakes. We’ve been hit bad. There must be carnage. I try to drag myself to all-fours. My phone is on the ground, not far from me. Blood seeps out of me faster than I can catch it from my chest.
Luckily, one of my security team members finds me. My mouth goes dry. It feels like cotton. The roof of my mouth and tongue are stuck together. I try to raise my hand to speak, but I drop it and close my eyes.
“Mav, stay with me, buddy. Open your eyes. You have to open your eyes. Don’t die on me yet.”
Mike is standing over me. My vision is blurred, but I manage to get the word out. “Hazel…”
“They got her. They got her, sir. I’m sorry. We got bloodshed here. The house. Casualties.”
The room spun and then faded to black.
Chapter Five: The Empire Strikes Back
Maverick
“Stop moving. You’re going to rip your stitches,” Isabella scolds me as I grab my drink off the bedside table.
“Will you stop hovering? I can get my own drink for fuck’s sake!” I snap. Isabella’s eyes narrow, but she doesn't back down.
I let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Thank you for doing all this,” I say, waving my hand around my bedroom that Isabella has set up in a way, so I barely needed to move. My doctor stitched me back together again like a broken doll. Miles had Hazel, and I couldn’t do anything besides lie in this bed. I’m fucking useless. I can’t let my mind think about what he could be doing to her or if she’s even alive.
There’s an ache in my chest, and it has nothing to do with the gunshot wound. I vow with every ounce of blood pumping through my veins to gain revenge on Miles. Although I have mobster tendencies, I care deeply for my staff and security members. The loss of lives is taking a toll on me. Another reason I wanted out of the game. The mansion resembles a war zone, but my attention is on getting Hazel back. It’s time to take Miles out by any means necessary.
Once Miles is gone, Hazel can do what she wants. Will she choose to come back here with me?
Instead of accepting my apology, Isabella simply sets the remote beside me and walks out of the room. It’s not the first day I’ve snapped at her, and she’s probably done with it. Everyone in the house is probably done with my bad attitude. It isn’t going to get better until I know Hazel is safe. While I’ve been laying useless in this bed, the only thing I’m able to think about is getting her back. I finally have a plan that might work.
I grab my phone off the bedside table and call one of the only people in this world I consider family.
“‘Sup,” Dustin answers.
“I need your help.” I made sure to call him on the flip phone. Dustin’s a federal agent. You can say we took completely different paths in life, but we have an unspoken truce between us. Dustin makes sure the Feds stay off my trail, and I make sure he and his family are taken care of financially. It’s more than a business arrangement. Dustin and I have been friends since high school. He knows all about my past and the choices that have led me to where I am now.
“Maverick! Man, I’m glad to hear you’re back on your feet,” he says. I can hear the sound of the wind through the phone as if he’s walking outside. I imagine he’s just getting to his office.
“I want to set up a meeting. With Miles.” I grimace as I sit up in bed. The meds are wearing off.
There’s a moment of silence, and then I hear a door shut. “Are you nuts? The man tri
ed to kill you,” Dustin replies in a hushed voice.
“I have a plan,” I assure him. Miles has too many men, and we’re down people. There’s no way I can attack him head-on.
“Psh, of course, you do.”
“Just hear me out. It will benefit both of us,” I say. If Dustin’s able to bring down a guy like Miles, he’d be able to move up the ranks fast.
He doesn't reply, and I take that as a cue to go on. “I want to call a fake truce and lure him into a major arms deal.”
“Ah. I dunno about that, Maverick.”
“Trust me; you’re going to have enough evidence to put this sucker away for a very long time.”
He lets out a sigh. “Alright, what’s the plan?”
***
“Where is she?” I ask Mike the moment he walks into my office. It’s been weeks since the attack, and I’m finally healed enough that I can move around on my own. There’s still some pain when I move a certain way, but that will take time.
“She's alive,” he starts with, and I let my shoulders relax a little bit. I’ve been worried that Miles might have instantly killed her, and all this effort I’m putting in to get her back would be for nothing. “He’s keeping her in a chamber. From what my inside guy told me…it's not pretty.”
Fuck. I imagine Hazel locked up in his torture chamber, and it makes me want to destroy things. I can picture her huddled in the corner of a small room, battered and bruised. She’s probably terrified.
I have to act now. Dustin’s ready to jump into action. I just needed to make sure Hazel was alive first.
Miles is a man consumed by power and money. To capture his attention, I needed an offer he couldn’t refuse. I also knew Miles would be hesitant to meet with me directly. Therefore, the plan to bait Miles is the trump card. A five-hundred-million-dollar arms deal involving three countries ought to do it. The fake deal would make Miles the most powerful arms dealer in the Northern Hemisphere.
To have the agents arrest him on the spot would be the nail in the coffin. Given the broad scope of the deal, I conclude Miles could be charged with multiple counts of conspiracy and trafficking. He’d be marked as an enemy of the state. The agents and various others were on board with the idea; it was a two-for-one bargain. They could be the heroes who arrested the infamous arms dealer, the kicker being that they would also be paid a large sum under the table by me.
I had a message sent to Miles since there was no way he was going to pick up my phone call. I had to wait for his response.
***
The week passes without incident. The calm before the storm hangs in the air, waiting to strike thunder on the ill-prepared. Miles must think he has it in the bag. In his perverted mind, he’s offed a badass arms dealer and is successfully punishing his wayward wife. Not on my watch. I don't have a lion tattooed on me for nothing. I’m a survivor of many things, and if Miles wants a war, then that’s what he would get.
Nobody plays with the lives of my staff. Nobody puts their hands on innocent victims while I’m around. I wouldn’t allow it. I push the negative thoughts about Hazel to the back of my mind. Who knows how she is suffering now.
A surprise informant came to me in the most unusual of ways. My cell phone rang at my office desk. Mike’s name flashed across the screen. I answered and waited for him to speak.
“Hey boss, we got a guy named Miguel who wants to speak to you. Says he’s from Miles’s camp. You game?” I raised my eyebrows. This ought to be interesting. I knew the phones were tapped already by Mike, so I would entertain it.
“Yeah, patch him through. Let’s see what he has to say. You got me covered, right?”
“Yeah, I got it. Don’t worry; we are tracing the call. Plus, we got him tapped.”
“Alright, go ahead.” I heard Mike click off and then heavy breathing on the line.
“Senor! I can’t speak long. I have news.”
“Go ahead. What do you want?”
”I’m Miguel, the pool guy from Miles’s house. I want to tell you; he has Hazel here. She’s here. She is in trouble. Please hurry. He’s loco. This guy is loco!” I sat up then. My spidey senses had me ready for war. I had to get to her. Pronto.
“Ok. Here’s what I need you to do. Get a prepaid phone and only call me on that line. Never call from the house phone again. He’ll be tracing you.”
“Yes. Yes, I understand. Please hurry.”
“Sit tight. Oh, and Miguel, is it?”
“Yes.” I could hear the quiver in his voice. I wanted to know if he was double-crossing me and Miles put him up to it.
“If you’re lying to me, you’re a dead man.”
“No, no! Promise. I would not. I love Hazel. She cares for my family. She loves us. He’s evil. Pure evil. Please help.”
“Ok. You want to help? I need you to keep me posted on everything! Follow my instructions to the letter.”
“Yessir.”
Chapter Six: Execution Time
Maverick
D-day finally arrived. The FBI and I are assembled in Hawaii, ready for the takedown. An hour ago, the intelligence team informed us of Miles’s arrival. We’re camped out in a large van behind a warehouse.
The men that surround me are all FBI agents, but thanks to Dustin, they don't ask questions. To them, I’m just a wealthy man who had an unfortunate run-in with Miles. They don't need to know I’m behind this entire plan. There are hundreds of other men surrounding the warehouse, but they’re out of sight. They’re waiting for the order to attack.
The FBI is running top-of-the-line surveillance in and outside the warehouse building, so I can hear and watch every movement that Miles makes. Satellite gear, high tech stuff. I’m in a secure space peering into Miles’s sick brain.
“Let’s get this money,” I hear Miles say. I watch from the screen as a team of six men, all dressed in black, led Miles to the door. Miles’s hair is greased back away from his pale skin. Just the sight of him has me clenching my teeth together. He has Hazel locked up in his house while he goes along with business as usual. It takes everything in me not to jump out of the van and put a bullet in his head.
Vladimir, my biggest competitor, and five of his men are seated inside the warehouse at a conference table. In front of them are bottles of champagne and plates of caviar. Vladimir is in on the scam. He owes me big, and I’m using today to call in that favor. He’d go to prison after this but because he’s agreed to help the FBI with this whole thing he’ll only be serving five years. It’s a way to wipe his slate clean. After they prosecute him, they can’t go after him again for anything he’s done in the past. I wonder if he’s trying to leave this life too.
Miles approaches the table, saluting Vladimir. Vladimir, dressed in a black suit, stands to greet Miles with a one-handed embrace while patting him across the back with the other hand. Miles sits down across from Vladimir. All the men are armed. Two of Vladimir’s men are actually federal agents, risking their lives to take down Miles.
Vladimir speaks first. “Today, my friend, you become the most powerful arms dealer in the world, and today you will possess more weapon power than anyone has ever seen. Let us toast to this momentous occasion.”
Miles, like a cat lapping up cream, smirks. He raises a glass of champagne to toast with Vladimir.
“I have your goods, Vladimir, but before we do anything, don’t you want to introduce me to your comrades here?”
I watch the whole exchange, shaking my head at Miles’s bravado. He has no idea what’s about to hit him.
Vladimir swivels toward the men and replies with a hearty chuckle, “Forgive my rudeness, my friend. These are my trusted confidants, Gene, and Fitz. They’ll show you to your guns. After I see my products, of course.”
“Gentlemen,” Miles nods to the men. Turning then to two of his men, he speaks, “Bring in Mr. Kustov’s products.”
The men leave and return quickly, wheeling two large carts with box crates atop them. They bring the crates to the table. The mood in
the warehouse is thick with tension. Miles opens the crates to show Vladimir the money. There are millions of dollars in there, and in exchange, Miles thinks he’s getting nearly all of Vladimir's weaponry.
“Have we met before?” The undercover federal agent stands up to address Miles.
“I’m a well-traveled man. Our journeys may have crossed paths.” Miles pauses for a minute, perusing the room. “Perhaps you are correct.”
One of Miles’s team members must have heard movement at the rear of the warehouse because he reaches for his gun.
“Sir, we have movement at three o’clock,” Miles’s man says, indicating the sound coming from the right side of the building. Immediately, a stray, black cat runs across the room.
“It’s just a cat, sir, we’re all clear,” says one of the men.
Vladimir chuckles, “There’s always a pussy in our way.”
The men all laughed.
“Now, back to the business at hand.” Vladimir stands from his chair and assesses the money as if he can count it just by looking at it.
“It seems like we have ourselves a deal, Mr. Kustov. It is a pleasure doing business with you,” Miles says, obviously eager to get his hands on his new toys.
Vladimir responds, “Yes, the pleasure is all mine. The eighteen-wheeler is out back with everything inside. I’ll walk with you.”
I look around the van to see that every federal agent seems to be holding their breath. I look to another screen and see FBI agents surrounding the back entrance of the warehouse that Miles is walking straight for. We got him. I drop my headset on the floor and rush out of the van.
“Maverick!” Dustin shouts at me, keeping his voice low enough so no one in the warehouse can hear. I ignore him and cross the parking lot. There’s no way I’m going to watch Miles’s downfall from a screen.
“Put your weapons down. You are all under arrest!” I hear someone yell as I come around the corner.
The scene in front of me is what I’ve dreamed of. The seething rage that is written all over Miles's face is almost enough revenge enough for me. His men drop their weapons and get on their knees, but Miles stays standing.
