Quicksilver

by Elise Noble

  If he’d had the choice, Black would have brought Nate with him and left Rafael in the van with Cruz, Sofia, and Alaric, but one look at his nephew and Black understood that would never happen. He’d rather have had Carmen on the team than Sofia too, because Carmen was far more predictable. Yes, Sofia was a good shot and sneaky as hell, but there was a good reason Emmy had roped Fia and not Carmen into her crackpot scheme to kidnap Rafael.

  “Twenty minutes out,” Emmy muttered.

  Twenty minutes, and Black could feel his trigger finger twitching.

  “We want to leave everyone alive this time, especially Nevin. If anyone can lead us to The Banker, it’s him. And we need to get every fucking laptop before they pull the same trick as Radcliffe.”

  “Dying of a heart attack?”

  Black cut his eyes sideways at Emmy.

  “Look on the bright side—we saved a bullet.”

  “I don’t care about the laptops,” Rafael said. “Only Corazon.”

  “And Isabella? If she’s not at the house, the laptops might lead us to her. You need to see the bigger picture.”

  Rafael fell silent, and Black knew work was needed there. Rafael might be good with a gun, but he was used to working simple jobs—one target, in and out—not the multifaceted cases that Blackwood took on, where one thread led to a whole tangled web of secrets and lies that needed to be unravelled.

  “Just keep your head,” Black warned.

  An hour later, Black crawled forward on his stomach. Rafael was twenty yards away in the trees, barely visible, and Black hadn’t seen Emmy or Ana since they melted into the woods a quarter mile away. The car was parked in a rest area, but since Emmy had replaced the registration plate with a borrowed one before they left Florida, Black wasn’t too bothered about it being spotted.

  If all went according to plan, they’d be calling the FBI themselves before the end of the day, anyway. That promised to be a fun conversation. He couldn’t imagine Merrick Childs would thank them for their efforts in breaking up The Banker’s little funhouse, but Black was looking forward to the job. He’d always preferred being out in the field over sitting behind a desk. That was why he’d joined the Navy, then become a SEAL, then accepted a dangerous job with the CIA before he started Blackwood with Nate. Cheating death gave him a rush like no other.

  Little seemed to be stirring in the house, although it was difficult to see every room since the architect had obviously been on crack when he designed the place. Rosie was temporarily unavailable, having been attacked by a hawk on a test flight yesterday, and some fucker had placed palm trees in oversized metal planters in strategic positions around the outside of the building. By accident or on purpose? At least the pots gave them cover.

  The occasional guard walked past a window, but Black saw no sign of the girls. As in the Florida house, bars turned the upstairs rooms into jail cells.

  Nate’s voice came over the radio. “Approaching from the south.”

  Good. They’d discussed strategy as Cruz drove, and Nate would go in the front door with Sofia. Black and Rafael would take the side door while Emmy went through the back with Ana.

  There was no need for the thermic lance this time. Thanks to Cora’s information, they went armed with lock picks and got the doors open in under a minute. Rafael stacked up behind Black.

  “Ready?” Black asked.

  His nephew nodded.

  Inside the house, they both paused for a second, listening. Low voices from the left. Then a female shriek from the right. Shit.

  Rafael started forward with Black close behind. Perhaps not the most sensible approach, but fuck it. Black enjoyed a challenge.

  “Deal with the guards,” he told the others. “We’re going for Cora.”

  A guard stepped out of a doorway ahead, but he was still fumbling for his gun when Rafael chopped his vagus nerve with the side of his hand, and the asshole crumpled to the floor. Black followed up with flex cuffs on his wrists and ankles, and they moved on.

  “One down.”

  “Two down,” Emmy said. “The twat still had his safety on. It’s almost as if they’ve spent too much time mistreating women and not enough time training.”

  Sofia giggled. “Three down. And you’re so right.”

  Three down, five to go, and six people on his team. Black liked those odds until he and Rafael found three of the fuckheads in the same damn room. The two guards lurched into action, and while it took only seconds to subdue them, those seconds gave the third man time to drag Corazon in front of him and press a knife to her neck. And the laptop on the desk beside him whirred alarmingly. Was it already wiping itself?

  “Drop the guns!” the man shrieked.

  Was this Nevin? He sounded like Bradley’s evil twin. Looked like him too. What self-respecting bad guy wore gold cowboy boots?

  “That’s not gonna happen.”

  Rafael shifted to the right, and Nevin took a step back, angling Corazon so neither of them could get a good shot. The point of the knife was worryingly close to her carotid artery, and there wasn’t much she could do to help with her hands cuffed behind her back. Blood trickled from her nose, one of her eyes was bruised, and her clothes hung in tatters. Nevin was a dead man walking.

  “I’ll kill her.”

  “And then we’ll kill you. If you let her go, we can discuss this like adults.”

  Emmy’s voice came through Black’s earpiece. “Four down, and the housekeeper’s sobbing in the kitchen.”

  “Five and six down,” he said. “But we’ve got an issue with seven.”

  “Okay. Oh, hey—Ana just found eight.” Crunch. “Ouch. I felt that.”

  “Search the house.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Nevin demanded.

  “Satan. I’m reserving you a room. If you don’t want to check in, I suggest you put the knife down.”

  “You’ll kill me anyway.”

  True. “How about if I promise to make it quick?”

  “If you want her to live, you’ll back into the hallway and let me leave.”

  Okay, because then they could shoot him as he walked past.

  “And put the guns on the floor first.”

  Maybe not.

  “You’ve got nowhere to go. Your guards are asleep on the job, and we’ve disabled your vehicles.”

  Nate heard Black’s comment over the radio. “On it. I’ll shoot out the tyres.”

  “I’ll stick this knife right into her neck. I swear!”

  “How about we negotiate? I’m not interested in you; I want your boss. The Banker. Tell me what you know about him, and you have my word I’ll let you walk out of here.”

  As far as the front gate, then Emmy or Ana could put a bullet through his brain. What? Black was a habitual liar. He’d already admitted that, hadn’t he?

  His hope had been to scare Nevin into talking, but at the mention of The Banker’s name, the man’s hands started shaking. A scarlet trickle ran down Cora’s neck, and Black realised Nevin was more scared of his boss than of Black himself. A new kind of fear showed in the man’s eyes. He’d rather die than spill the beans, which meant the rules had changed again. Black needed to kill the fucker and shut down that laptop before everything got erased.

  But how?

  Little caught Black by surprise, but when Nevin’s head exploded, that was…unexpected. Sofia stepped through the shattered remains of the tempered glass she’d just destroyed and looked down at the bloody mess.

  “You forgot the window, you stupid jizz-nozzle.”

  Black leapt for the laptop, leaving Rafael and Sofia to take care of Cora. But it was too late. Wipe complete flashed on the screen, along with a skull and crossbones. He pulled out the battery anyway, but it looked horribly like a repeat of the Radcliffe situation.

  “Fuck.”

  “What is it?” Nate asked.

  “Another fried laptop.”

  “We’ve got a bigger problem in the basement,” Emmy warned. “Don’t bring Corazon
down here.”

  Which meant the problem was Leander Arden. “On my way.”

  Sofia’s platinum necklace incorporated a hidden handcuff key, and she’d already released Corazon. Rafael held his sister in his arms, and although Black was desperate to meet his niece, he knew that had to wait. Sofia was on hand to offer assistance, and probably better equipped to do so given the circumstances.

  Black jogged through the house, past the writhing body of one guard who he silenced with a swift kick to the balls, until he found the stairs to the basement. Cora had been right when she described it as a dungeon. BDSM toys lined the walls, and at the far end, Emmy and Ana stood over a body tied to a padded bench. Even in the dim light, it was obvious the man had been badly beaten. His mottled skin matched the blood-red walls and the dark purple carpet.

  “Is he alive?”

  Emmy looked up. “Breathing, but barely.”

  “Unconscious?”

  “Drifting in and out. Where’s Fia? He needs drugs.”

  He needed more than fucking drugs. Yeah, it was probably time to call the emergency services and Special Agent Childs. He could assist with clearing up the mess since he’d helped to create it by ignoring the systematic abuse of at least fifteen young women for months. Black would also have to call in a favour or two to make the small matter of Rafael’s escape from custody go away, but why bother banking them if he didn’t cash a few in occasionally?

  He patched through to the control room in Virginia, where Mack had been listening to the raid.

  “We need an ambulance dispatched to this location. Also state police and the FBI.”

  “On their way.”

  “Nate, can you check that laptop before they arrive?”

  “Doing that right now. It’s fucked.”

  “Check the desk for backups.”

  “Already did. Nada. But we’ve got seven women locked in rooms upstairs.” A pause. “Make that six. One of them seems to have escaped.”

  “For fuck’s sake, go after her.”

  “Sofia’s already doing that. Hey, now they’re wrestling on the lawn. People would pay good money to watch this.”

  “Just get her back in the damn house.”

  Black walked closer to the scene at the far end of the room, blocking out the chatter on the radio. So, this was Leander Arden? He barely even looked human. Angry welts covered his chest, and snot mixed with blood bubbled from his nose. Both arms had been stretched above his head and tied to the bench, but one was at a strange angle. A dislocated shoulder? All of Blackwood’s people carried basic first aid kits on jobs like this, but it was difficult to know where to start. How much damage had been done on the inside?

  The sound of sobbing came over the radio. Corazon, or the other woman?

  “Any update on Leander?” Rafael asked.

  “Not good. Emmy’s right. Keep Corazon away.”

  Sofia appeared moments later with her top ripped down the middle and grass stains on her face.

  “Did you have fun?” Black asked.

  “Don’t you dare say anything.”

  The girls began cutting Leander free, sawing carefully through the ropes around his wrists and ankles. Sofia gave him something to ease the pain, but none of them were stupid enough to try moving him. Since the enemy had been neutralised, they could leave that to the professionals when they arrived with a spinal board.

  While they waited for the cavalry, Black made a quick search of the house for anything useful, but like Radcliffe’s, the place was clean. Usually, a place this size would be a treasure trove of evidence and papers—terrorists in particular were fond of writing things down—but the most he found was a handful of receipts for electrical goods and work to the house, and a grocery list. A quick chat with the guards revealed nothing of note either. Whoever The Banker was, his fetish for privacy had been well implemented.

  “I’ve copied Nevin’s phone,” Nate said as the first sirens sounded in the distance. “Time for Rafael to make himself scarce.”

  “And Ana,” Black said. She always liked to keep a low profile.

  “You go to the hospital with Emmy, and I’ll stay here with Sofia.”

  “Are you sure?”

  A world of shit was about to be unleashed in this house, and Black hated to dump that in his friend’s lap, even though he and Fia were more than capable of dealing with it.

  “We’re sure,” Fia said. “Even if Corazon doesn’t know who you are yet, she should still have family with her.”

  Family. According to the monitor in his wristwatch, Black’s pulse had stayed under one-twenty all the way through the raid, but now it sped up as an unfamiliar sensation of nervousness flickered through him. What would Corazon say when she found out he was her uncle? And how would she cope when she realised the man she so obviously cared for had been badly injured?

  CHAPTER 41 - CORA

  I LOST TRACK of time as I held onto my brother. The man who’d come with him vanished, replaced by a second who looked equally tough but slightly shorter and not quite so cold. Other strangers moved back and forth, talking quietly, but my ears still rang from the gunshot that had made me jump out of my skin.

  “Are you hurt?” Rafe asked. “Is any of this blood yours?”

  Blood? I pressed my fingers against my neck, to the spot where Nevin had jammed the knife in, but instead of the tiny trickle I’d imagined, my whole hand came away red and sticky. As my brain caught up with my racing heart, I realised it wasn’t my blood but Nevin’s, and I puked up the contents of my guts before I could stop myself. Then I kicked him in the balls. Yes, I realised he was dead—half of his head was missing—but it still felt good.

  Shouting came from outside, and the dark-haired girl who’d just jumped out the window came back into view with her arms wrapped around a struggling Mercy.

  “It’s okay,” I shouted. “She’s here to help us.”

  At least, I thought she was since she came with my brother.

  Mercy stilled long enough for the woman to lift her back inside, and her eyes widened when she saw Nevin. Then she kicked him in the testicles too. The man standing with my brother rolled his eyes.

  “I think we get the message, ladies.”

  “Who are these people?” Mercy asked me.

  “Uh, I’m not totally sure.” I pointed at Rafe. “But this is my brother.”

  “He shot Nevin?”

  “No, I think it was…” I turned towards the dark-haired girl, only to find she’d vanished. My thoughts were jerky, disjointed, but as more awareness filtered back in, I suddenly realised who else was missing. “Where’s Leandro? Nevin did something to him, and…and…I need to find him.”

  I tried to run out of the room, but Rafe pulled me back again.

  “Stay here.”

  “But—”

  “He’s downstairs. People are with him.”

  “Is he…? Is he…?”

  Tears welled up, and I fought against them. Leandro couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be. He’d been alive half an hour ago, because when I’d denied everything and hypothesised that Radcliffe might also have been an FBI snitch, Nevin had sent one of his henchmen to ask Leandro if that was true.

  “He’s alive,” the other man said. “But I’ll be honest—it’s not good. Rafael, you need to get out of here before the cops arrive.”

  “Why?” I asked. Then I realised. “So it was you who kidnapped a policewoman?”

  The other guy laughed. He actually laughed.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “Oh, but it is. Your brother tried to hold my friend’s wife hostage, and he ended up duct-taped to a weight bench.”

  “Is this true?” I asked.

  Rafe scowled. “You were right. It wasn’t fucking funny.”

  “We’ll discuss this later,” the guy said. “Get out of here, and take Ana with you.”

  “Who’s Ana?”

  “Later.”

  Rafe pointed Mercy and me to a still-damp sofa, and w
e sat together as the house became an official crime scene. Cops, EMTs, and even a fire truck turned up. Although there were people everywhere, most of them were unfamiliar, and I’d never felt so alone.

  “What do you think’s gonna happen?” Mercy whispered. “Will they arrest us?”

  “I have no idea, but we haven’t done anything wrong. We didn’t abduct ourselves from Colombia, did we? How did you get out of your room?”

  “Picked the lock with a couple of bobby pins. That’s how I escaped the first time too, but then they brought in those electronic cards.”

  A commotion in the hallway made me swivel towards the door as a team of medics shuffled past, carrying a body on a stretcher. A cop walked behind, holding up a bag of fluids for the IV line running into the man’s arm, and I realised who it was. Leander.

  I scrambled to my feet. Not because I wanted to see his broken body, but because I couldn’t stay away.

  “Ay, dios mio.” The words slipped out at the same time as my tears.

  A blanket covered Leander’s torso, and if it was half as bad as his face, I was glad I couldn’t see it. His lip was split open, his nose was unmistakably broken, and everything just looked…wonky. Asymmetrical. What other damage lurked beneath the swelling?

  “Hey, hey. You shouldn’t be here,” a blonde woman said.

  “I’m not leaving him. He’s my…” What was Leander to me? My saviour. My confidant. The man I wanted to eat dinner with and wake up next to in the morning. The man who treated me as though I meant something and sent hot flashes through me even in the most awkward of circumstances. “He’s my friend.”

  The blonde sighed. “Fine. Ride with us to the hospital, but you’ll have to promise to keep out of the way.”

  A policeman stopped beside us. “These ladies can’t go anywhere. They’re witnesses.”