by Desiree Holt
“These men”—Maes pointed to Raca’s crew—“as you can see, are armed and ready. If anyone makes one wrong move or a misstep, they have orders to shoot. I hope for the sake of all of you it does not come to that.”
He heard a swish as the doors to the kitchen opened. Three men dressed in the typical white coats worn by chefs and one woman in waitress garb were marched into the room ahead of Goren and his Colt M4.
Maes gave them a tight smile. “Thank you for joining us, gentlemen and lady. Please move to where your fellow staff members are standing. If you are very quiet and do not cause any trouble you may be able to leave here alive.”
The waitress turned so pale Maes wondered if she would faint. Still she obeyed with the rest of them. Then he watched while Goren pulled a bunch of zip ties from his pocket. Soon the entire service staff was seated on the floor, backs to the wall, hands behind them.
“I will leave your legs free for the moment,” he told them, “but if anyone tries something foolish, I will shoot that person and finish incapacitating the rest of you.”
A man in a white dinner jacket at the table close to him rose from his chair. In an instant one of Raca’s men was there, the barrel of his assault weapon pressed against the man’s cheek.
“If you have something to say,” Maes told him in a deceptively mild voice, “then spit it out. Let’s get it out of the way. But sit down. If you try to get up again, it could be the last thing you do.”
“Why don’t you just tell us who these men are you obviously have a grudge against,” the man said. “You can let the rest of us go. You don’t have any quarrel with us.”
Maes stared at the man until his face paled. “Nobody is leaving. Don’t ask again. Now.” He stretched his lips into a fake smile. “It would be a huge problem if any of you tried to call out from here, thinking someone could come and rescue you. I’m sure you can understand that. Since this is an island, it’s not as if you can just call the police. However, I think it best to remove temptation, so we will be collecting all of your electronics. And I warn you, do not try to hide any of them.”
One of Raca’s men shook open a large garbage bag, while another stood at his side with a three-foot metal pole.
“You will come forward one at a time and deposit any and all electronic devices in this bag. Then you will be wanded to make sure you have nothing hidden on your person. We shall begin with”—he scanned the room—“this table here, to my right. Goren, please escort each person up here. If anyone gives you a hard time, shoot them.”
Maes was pleased that no one screamed or tried to object. He wasn’t ready to start shooting people. Not just yet.
He stood silently as, one by one, the guests made their way to his henchman holding the garbage bag open, and stopped while the wand was run over their bodies. He wasn’t paying much attention to the tables in the far corner of the restaurant at the moment. Instead he was watching the faces of the eleven men he’d come to exact retribution from. He was caught off guard, therefore, when he heard a scream from that area, and looked over there to see Miko dragging a woman from her seat by her hair.
“What’s the problem?”
“She’s trying to sneak a call before giving up her phone.” Miko wrapped her hair more tightly around his fingers and tugged her even harder until she was standing upright.
“Leave my wife alone.” The man next to her stood and attempted to free his wife.
Miko slammed the barrel of his gun into the man’s head, dropping him back into his chair.
Maes looked at the woman, and then recognized the man. A tiny smile played at the corners of his mouth. The husband was one of the men on his hit list. A man who would pay for what he’d done. Stojan Van Baer had owned a successful but small shipping company in Belgium before Maes had shown him how to expand his horizons. Along with the electronics and other goods Grupa Industrijska shipped to third world countries, his ships began to carry arms of all kinds to revolutionary armies and terrorist organizations. Those shipments brought enormous sums because of their nature, and Van Baer’s wealth had grown exponentially. When the CIA investigated, that ungrateful swine had denied any knowledge of anything. Now it was his turn to pay the piper.
“Well, Van Baer. I see your wife isn’t any smarter than you are. Didn’t you tell her it’s foolish to do anything that displeases me?” He nodded at Miko. “Release her, Miko.”
His henchman frowned at him but dropped the woman back into her chair.
“Now shoot her.”
Miko pulled a .45 mm handgun from his belt and shot the woman twice in the head. Her body jerked as the bullets hit. Then her lifeless body fell forward, her head resting on her dinner plate. The sound of the bullets was magnified in the room, and people screamed.
“Shut up, all of you.” Maes had to raise his voice to be heard. “Just shut up.”
Van Baer lifted his head and stared at Maes. “Murderer!” he shouted. “Murdering swine.”
“It takes one to know one,” Maes retorted in a mild voice. “Sit down, Stojan. I cannot order the same for you because I have need of you this evening. But I’d be perfectly happy for my man to take care of the others at your table.”
The room became unnaturally silent as everyone stared, shock plain on their faces. The people closest to the woman scrambled to help her husband. Several of the men rose from their seats.
Were these people just stupid?
He shook his head then looked around. “Tsk. Tsk. Did we not warn you about this?”
Maes gave Miko a nod, and the man fired his rifle into the ceiling, the rapid-fire sound of the bullets stunning everyone into silence again.
“Does that get your attention? Stay seated. That is an order. I am in charge. I told you what would happen if someone tried something. Perhaps now you will believe me.” He shook his head again. “Too bad someone had to die to prove it. Franjo, get her out of my sight.”
Van Baer shifted from his chair, but Raca pressed the barrel of his gun to the man’s head. Then Franjo hoisted the body and carried it to the kitchen. With the swinging doors open, they could see him dump it on the floor.
As far as Maes was concerned, it couldn’t have been a better example of his intentions. He was doubly pleased that it was the wife of one of the men on his list. It satisfied him, as he looked around the room again, to see genuine fear stamped on the faces of the guests.
He looked around. “If there is no one else foolish enough to defy me, we can move on to the rest of the evening.”
He looked around the room, taking note of the strained looks underscored with fear. “No? All right, then. We shall proceed.” He turned to Desmet. “Anything showing up on the security cams?”
“No.” Desmet shook his head. “But their setup is very basic and doesn’t really cover everywhere. I’m sure they never thought in this secluded paradise they’d need anything more.”
“This will teach them not to take things for granted.”
He glanced at people still dumping their electronics. It was a slow process, but he did not expect to be interrupted, and he wanted to be thorough. The men on his list, for whatever reason, were seated at the tables furthest away from him. It took a while for them and their wives to move to the place to dump their electronics.
Karl Eickner, another of the men on his list, was the first to move into the area. As he approached, Maes noted that rather than being frightened, the look in his eyes was one of extreme anger. And hate. If looks could kill, Maes would be a smoldering heap on the floor now.
His lips turned up in the hint of a smile.
“Good evening, Karl.” He took a step closer to the man. “I have a very special evening planned for you and your lovely wife.”
Eickner’s wife was pale, her face almost as grey as her hair. As she stepped forward she opened her mouth as if to speak, then looked at Maes’s face
again and seemed to think better of it.
“You’re dead after this, you know.” Eickner delivered the words in a low, harsh tone.
“Big words from a man who is not in control.”
“But we will be,” Eickner warned. “What goes around comes around.”
Maes actually smiled at that. “Exactly what this evening is all about.”
He was pleased to note Eickner’s face paled, although nothing diluted the anger.
“Step lively,” he told the man. “Others are waiting behind you.”
Eickner slammed his phone and watch into the bag, then took his wife’s and did the same. Then he took one step closer to Maes.
“Fuck you, you fucking bastard. You think you’re so fucking smart? We’ll see.”
He took his wife’s hand to lead her back to their table.
Maes kept the smile pasted on his face, but inside his gut was churning. He could hardly wait for the main event to begin.
“Van Baer?” He looked at the man staring at him with agony and sorrow etched on his face. “I think we’ll begin with you.”
Chapter 11
“We need to get into the kitchen,” Justin said as they made their way around to the back of the building again. “I want to see if maybe there’s one person that Maes didn’t sweep up. Someone who can answer some questions about how this went down. Something. Anything. Whatever I can use to slow this disaster down. Let’s see if the employee entrance is unlocked. If not, I’ve got my trustee do-everything knife with me.”
“What about the camera back there? If they’re monitoring the system they’ll see you.”
“I’ll check to see which way it’s pointed. If we’re lucky, it will be toward any paths, just to keep track of guests who might get lost.”
Justin was right about the camera. It was pointed away from the building. He tested the knob on the rear door and smiled when it turned in his hand. Opening it, he motioned for her to follow him, touching a finger to his lips to remind her to be silent.
As if she didn’t know.
But she had to keep reminding herself he didn’t know exactly what her skills were, and his first priority was to keep her safe.
The door opened into a short hallway. On the left was a door they discovered led into a small storage room. On the right was the kitchen. Normally at this time of day, it would be filled with busy noises, as meals were being prepared, plated, and served. Right now, it was more silent than a cemetery, and not a person was in sight.
At the far end of the kitchen were the swinging double doors that led into the restaurant proper. They looked heavy enough to block most sound. It would be important to keep the kitchen racket from the people enjoying their very expensive meals. But now it also served as a heavy filter for what was going on in Sunset.
“They’ve cleared everyone out of here,” Justin whispered as they slowly toured the kitchen. “Damn. I was hoping for one person.”
“Maes and his people pay attention to every little detail. It’s how he’s destroyed so many people over the years.”
Food in various stages of preparation sat on the counter at the workstations or in pots and pans on the huge stove, burners turned off. Everywhere there were signs of the routine of feeding dozens of people, but there was no one to push the process forward. The place looked as if a giant vacuum had come down and sucked up every human being.
Marissa scanned the kitchen, not knowing exactly what she was looking for. She stopped when her gaze landed on what looked like someone’s laundry.
“Look, Justin.” She moved closer and had to swallow a scream when she saw what it was. “Oh, my God. It’s a body.”
Justin crouched and rolled the body, so he could get a better look. It was a woman, at least in her sixties, in a pink chiffon dress. The front of it was heavily stained with blood.
“Jesus,” Justin whispered. “Let’s at least move her out of the way.”
“What if one of them looks in here and sees she’s been moved?”
“My guess?” He shook his head. “They just tossed her in here without looking to see where she landed.”
“I told you Maes was ruthless and insane.”
“No argument there. Let’s see if we can catch what anyone’s saying.”
They moved to the doors, positioning themselves so they could peek in without being seen.
“You stole my money. I’m taking it back. With interest.” The soulless, icy tone told him this had to be Maes.
“Over my dead body.”
“If you insist.”
A series of gunshots punctuated the air.
“Not an assault rifle,” Justin mouthed to Marissa. “It’s obvious they’ve got a variety of weapons in there. I’m going to see if I can get a better look.”
“Be careful,” she said.
He managed a grin. “It’s my middle name.”
He held up a hand for quiet as he moved to get a better look through the opening. Marissa saw his body tense even more than it was as he put his ear close to the tiny window to hear better, before taking a look through it. When he turned back she could see his face had hardened into a mask of rage. He grabbed her hand and led her to the far end of the kitchen.
“I didn’t want to talk down there,” he whispered. “Sound carries, although I don’t think he’d pay much attention to me at this point.”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
He hauled in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“The man you pointed out as Desmet is monitoring a computer by the entrance to the restaurant.”
“My guess is he’s tapped into the security-system cameras.”
“Yes. And that will work in our favor. But they’re covering all bases, just in case they left someone alive by mistake.” He blew out a breath. Just at that moment, the sat phone vibrated against his hip.
“I have to step outside to take this,” he whispered. “Come with me. I won’t leave you alone in here.”
Once outside, he pressed the button for Callback.
“Yeah, Avery, what have you got?”
Marissa watched as the muscles in his face tightened. Whatever Avery was telling him was as bad as everything else.
“Spill,” she told him when he disconnected.
“Long story short, some of the men in that restaurant made a lot of money from his illegal activities. He kept them covered up and when the CIA put him out of business they walked away from him to keep their skirts clean. I think he wants revenge.”
She swallowed. Hard. She knew what kind of revenge Maes could take. She’d heard enough about it, and Brian Gould had shown her pictures before letting her agree to take the job. “Like what?”
“Like getting his money back and maybe killing all of them afterward. We’ve got to find a way to slow this down until a Vigilance team gets here.”
“Is the kitchen staff in there?” she asked. “Could you see?”
“Yeah. I just got a glimpse. He’s got them herded together against one wall. He’s too smart to leave people unattended. Let’s get back inside and see what’s happening.” Once inside he started back toward the doors to the dining room but suddenly stopped, and cocked his head, as if listening.
“What is it?” Marissa whispered. “What do you hear?”
He cocked his head, frowning. “There. Did you hear that? Maybe there’s someone here after all.”
Marissa strained to listen. Yes. He was right. There was a tiny sound coming from one of the bottom cabinets. Careful not to make noise as he walked, he moved over to it, grasped the handle and yanked.
“Oh!”
A tiny little squeak startled both of them, but not half as much as the young girl who had curled herself into a ball to fit into it.
She looked as if someone had folded her into place. She was white
with fear, and her eyes were like those of a trapped animal.
“Please don’t kill me,” she whispered, trying to make herself even smaller. Tears ran down her cheeks. “Please, please, please.”
I’ve got this, Marissa mouthed to Justin and crouched beside the terrified girl.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “We’re not with the others. We’re not going to hurt you.”
The girl just wet her lips and stared at Marissa, her entire body shaking.
“I swear,” Marissa went on. “Come on. We’re here to get rid of the bad people. Please let me help you out of there before you can’t unbend yourself.” She held out her hand. “It’s okay.”
With very slow movements the girl managed to work herself around until she had her feet out, then little by little the rest of her body. Marissa helped her stand and had to stop herself from pulling the frightened girl in for a hug.
Justin, who had been keeping an eye on the doors to the restaurant, nudged them toward the exit.
“Let’s take this out of the kitchen.” He had his voice so low it was almost indistinguishable. “I just took a peek in the restaurant again. That big garbage bag is off to the side, so it looks like they’ve got everyone’s electronics gathered. I don’t know what’s next, but I don’t want to be in here in case they decide to check out the kitchen again. Let’s move into that storage closet across the way. And everyone quiet. Not a sound.”
For a moment the girl resisted, then allowed Marissa to lead her out of the kitchen, even though she was still trembling. She was barely over five feet and didn’t look like she weighed much over a hundred pounds. Probably why she’d been able to fit in the cabinet. Her long brown hair was worn in a braid and her face was absent of any makeup. She looked barely twenty years old.
“Okay,” Justin said as soon as they were in the storage closet. “Sweetheart, can you tell us your name?”
“D-Dani.” She swallowed. “Danielle.”
“Okay, Dani. I’m Justin and this is Marissa. We’re not going to hurt you.” He looked directly into the girl’s eyes. “We’re the good guys. Understand?”
