He put the phone to his ear. No speakerphone this time. Jerk.
“Yeah,” he said. “Okay. That’s good.”
But he wasn’t smiling and his eyes stayed focused on the dish in front of him. Michael became unreadable. What did that mean?
“What’s he saying?” Gina asked.
He held up a finger. Damn him.
“Right. Keep me posted.”
He hung up, slid the phone onto the table and raised his eyebrows. “Lily called.”
Lily.
Gina sat back, all the air rushing from her body, and blinked back tears. Her baby, alive. Oh, to hell with it. She slapped her hands over her face and let the fierce, racking sobs take over until she nearly broke apart.
After a few seconds, Michael rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “She’s all right. She turned her phone on and they have her location. She’s in a warehouse on the South Side. The guys are going to get her.”
“Are they going now?” Gina asked, hopeful the nightmare would soon end.
“In a little while. Vic told her to call every fifteen minutes.”
She reached for Michael’s phone. “I need to talk to her.”
“No.” He snatched the phone away and an agonizing anger shot up Gina’s neck.
She grabbed for it again. “She is my child and she needs me. Imagine how terrified she must be.”
Michael nodded. “I know, but what if she didn’t silence the ringer and someone hears it? Let me talk to Vic and I’ll have her call you.”
Talk to Vic? Who the hell did these two think they were telling her when she could speak with her own daughter? And what about Vic? Why the hell didn’t he call her with this news?
“Where is he? I want to talk to him too.”
That earned her an eye roll and a huff. Mr. Dramatic.
“He can’t talk right now. That’s why Tiny called. They’re working on how to get Lily out.”
Gina stood. “Fine. I’ll go to the office. I want to know what they’re planning.”
Michael jumped out of the chair and blocked her. “Not a chance.”
They squared off, each measuring the level of resolve, but Michael had that stony-eyed look that told her she wouldn’t win.
Gina balked. “I don’t understand why I can’t talk to him about Lily. Why make Tiny call? Unless he’s not telling us something.”
That had to be it. She stalked the kitchen to get her runaway thoughts together. What would Vic not be telling her? Think.
Michael shook his head. “Don’t start.”
She halted. “What does that mean?”
“It means they called to let us know she is unharmed and they’re working out a plan. Nothing else to tell.”
“Then why didn’t Vic call me? I think, given the circumstances, he could have called me himself.”
Lord, she sounded like a crazy brat. It had to be the stress. She put her ice-cold fingers over her eyes, tried to focus on Lily being alive.
“Michael, I feel like the only reason he wouldn’t have called would be if something were wrong and he didn’t want to alarm me. Maybe Lily is injured and he wants to get her back before he tells me.”
Could that be it? She reached for the counter to steady the swirling room. Deep breath.
“Gina—”
She waved her hands in front of her. No. No. No talking.
Michael scrunched his eyes closed and she recognized his steely resolve, the monumental effort to control his temper. “She is fine.”
“I don’t believe you.” She steadied herself and pushed away from the counter.
He grunted. “Go ahead. Drive yourself crazy. You always do.”
A hot, searing rage muscled into her rioting thoughts. “Screw you. My daughter is missing. When you walk this path, then you have the right to lecture me.”
“You distract him,” he yelled, the venom in his tone forcing her to step back. She pushed too hard, as usual. Not that she cared right now.
It had been a long time since Michael’s famous temper, and the blast of fury that came with it, targeted her.
“Dammit.” He kicked a chair and sent it crashing into the cabinets. “You never know when to stop.”
“I’m not even there. How can I distract him?”
Michael rubbed his fingers above his eyes until his nail beds turned pink. “This is the fucking problem. Always has been, but you didn’t want to listen.”
“Oh, shut up!”
“When he’s on a job, that’s what he needs to concentrate on. He can’t get emotional about it or he’ll screw up.”
“So, if he gets emotional, it’s my fault?”
He scoffed. “I didn’t say that.”
“Maybe not, but it’s what you meant.”
Before he could say anything, she held up her hand. “I can’t worry about it now. I need my daughter to come home. The rest is bullshit anyway.”
This had been the issue all along. Mr. Anti-Emotion liked being a robot. He liked not having to feel anything. It gave him an excuse to live his solitary life and run off to play super agent somewhere.
She breathed deep. She needed her daughter home.
That was all she needed. Her family intact.
Which included Vic.
And here she was, all over again, worrying about a man in a dangerous profession.
Had she learned nothing the first time around?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Man Law: Never leave a man behind.
The sky appeared a blank canvas due to cloud cover. No moonlight tonight. In Vic’s opinion, the perfect night for an op.
He stood behind the clump of trees where Billy had been holed up for the last three hours. A twig cracked as Monk and Tiny made their way up the small hill with Duck and Roy in tow, all suited up in Kevlar vests. They’d come in two cars. Vic had driven out to the farm and loaded up on weapons for everyone.
At this moment most of what they carried would literally blow a man’s head off. He had his Sig Sauer .45 strapped to his thigh. An MP5 hung around his shoulder over his custom-made vest, the pockets stuffed full of extra rounds of ammo and flash bang grenades. He shifted the vest for a more comfortable fit and studied the warehouse through the trees.
Lily would be inside. Waiting. He visualized the hallway just inside the door. Long and narrow. He and Monk could not go in side by side. They’d have to scatter. Overall, though, they should be in and out quick.
If all went well, the good guys would come out unscathed. He didn’t know or care about the bad guys. Snatching a seven-year-old girl earned them whatever they might get.
“Hey,” Tiny said. Even in the darkness, their eyes met for a second.
“You okay?” He wanted Tiny’s head on straight or he’d make him sit out. Tiny was part of the team, but more than that, they were family and Vic needed him firing on all cylinders.
They didn’t need to blow the place to bits because they were pissed about Lily. Particularly when they weren’t sure what kind of explosives might be in all those crates.
Tiny nodded. “I’m good. I wouldn’t risk Lily because I’m hacked off.”
Vic pulled out his headset, put it on and adjusted the microphone so it sat just below his lip.
The guys did the same and Vic clucked his tongue to check his mic. Everyone nodded. The radios worked and the boys were ready for action.
Vic circled his index finger in the air. “Let’s go.”
When they emerged from the trees, He flipped the safety on the MP5, crouched, and ran to the side of the building. Monk followed, while the rest of the team split up to access the other entrances. Not knowing the thickness of the other entry doors, they would use C-4 to blow them off. Monk assembled the explosives necessary to do the job.
The familiar adrenaline buzz streamed through Vic’s system and he took in a breath. For years he’d lived on that rush, but now, knowing Lily was inside a building loaded with weapons and who knew what else, it felt like a curse
.
They moved to the door. Monk placed the C-4 around the hinges and the lock. He set the detonators and waited for the signal the other teams were ready.
“One set,” Monk whispered.
“Two set,” Tiny responded.
And finally. “Three set.”
They’d do this all at once to increase the confusion on the inside. Poor Lily would be scared shitless. Don’t go there. Don’t think about it. She’ll be safe in a couple of minutes.
“One, two, three,” Vic whispered, and…
Boom!
The door crashed off the hinges, and Vic and Monk rushed through. Yelling from inside drew Vic’s attention, the MP5 at the ready. If anyone came through that doorway, they’d better duck and cover.
He and Monk, on opposite walls, moved in sync down the hallway. A bare bulb illuminated the area and the closed door of the office where Lily should be. A prickle pinched at Vic’s neck. Something was not right in this place. But what? Was Lily gone? They’d just checked on her twenty minutes ago.
Monk hustled to the side of the hallway.
Something was…off. Vic controlled his breathing, slowed his system and faced the office. He gave the handle a turn. A double key lock. No time to mess with it. He stepped back and, with a good kick, walloped it just below the handle. The frame splintered and the door flew inward.
Lily let out a painful, howling scream from inside the office and it drowned out the yelling in the warehouse. Crap. He didn’t see her.
Follow the screaming.
He moved into the office with the MP5 up and stepped behind the desk where she cowered, her hands entwined behind her head.
“Lily,” he said in a stern voice. “It’s me.”
Still screaming, she peered up. Tears dragged down her cheeks and she shoved the curly mass of hair from her face. Her eyes widened and she launched herself at him. When he scooped her up, something in his chest exploded and he hugged her to him as she locked her arms and legs around him. The kid had a hell of a grip. Monk had better be alert out there, because Vic was useless at the moment.
“Shhh, honey. We’ll get you home, shhh.”
But she continued the banshee screaming and his head hammered from the sound.
A frantic round of automatic weapon fire thundered through the warehouse, followed by the controlled three-shot bursts of his team. Vic spun toward the door. He needed to get Lily out.
“Who’s firing?” he said into his mic.
No answer. Monk, still standing in the hallway, had backed up a step and nodded. He hadn’t fired.
Fuck. All went quiet.
“Check in,” Vic said, holding his MP5 with his free hand while a howling Lily clung to him. He blocked out the screaming, concentrated on the entry to the warehouse. Control the breathing, slow it down. Slow. Deep breaths. Monk nudged up for a look.
“Three clear,” Duck said, indicating he and Billy were fine.
“Two?” Vic asked.
Come on, come on. Be there.
“Area clear. Tango down. Tiny is down,” Roy said, his voice like gravel.
Tiny down? Is that what he said? Couldn’t be.
Monk hauled ass down the hallway. Vic followed but stopped short, afraid to take Lily into the main part of the warehouse. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Only one tango? Nobody else hiding?”
“We did a quick check. The area is clear,” Duck said.
“You’re sure? I’ve got Lily here.”
He should get Lily the fuck out of here and let the guys handle Tiny. He couldn’t leave Tiny, though. The agony of indecision tore at him.
Fucking Tiny. He should have made him sit out. He knew it.
“I’ll check it again,” Roy said.
Duck materialized from the warehouse and tried to take the still-screaming Lily, but she wouldn’t let go.
The more Duck pulled at her, the harder she squeezed.
“Forget it,” Vic said, unwilling to traumatize her further.
Duck backed up a step and waited.
“Lily,” Vic said in as gentle a voice as he could summon. “I need you to stop screaming, honey. I know you’re scared, but I have to talk to you.”
The screaming stopped in an abrupt and almost eerie manner.
“Good, girl. Can you look at me?”
She lifted her head from his shoulder and stared into his eyes. Excellent.
“Good. Listen up. I want to take you out of here, but I can’t leave just yet. Duck is here, though, and you know him. He won’t hurt you. He’s going to take you outside and I’ll be right behind you, okay? I just have to take care of something in here.”
She stared at him but didn’t move. Was any of this registering? Shock. She had to be in shock. “Lily? Did you hear me?”
She nodded.
“Okay. I’m going to hand you over to Duck. Is that all right?”
After giving Duck a sideways glance, she slid her arms from Vic’s shoulders.
“That’s my girl.” Vic handed her off. “I’ll be right out.”
He jerked his head toward the entrance and Duck marched away, Lily’s head on his shoulder. It would take her a long time to recover from this.
No.
Focus.
Vic moved into the main part of the warehouse and found it lit up like a runway at night. The familiar stacks of crates remained in their places and he stepped around one of them. Roy and Monk stood at the ready in case anyone new jumped out. Gerard Conlin’s bloody body lay a few feet away, and Vic assumed he was dead. Fucker.
From the corner of his eye he spotted a boot and turned to see Tiny’s six-foot-three form sprawled on the floor, Billy checking for a pulse. “Oh, Jesus.”
Tiny’s skull had blown apart from gunfire. The side of his head was gone. Brain matter lay exposed from the gaping wound and blood pooled on the cement floor. Oh, Tiny. Son of a bitch. Don’t do this.
Vic staggered back, slammed his eyes shut. “Oh no.”
A cold burst shot up his back and his knees buckled. He knelt a few feet from Tiny.
“A pulse?” he asked.
Billy stayed silent.
“Do CPR,” Vic roared.
Billy shook his head. “No one could survive this. You know it.”
No. Vic scooted forward. Felt for a pulse. Nothing. “Come on, Justin. Don’t do this.”
His throat started to close. No air. No air. He opened his mouth and a guttural groan escaped. He tensed his forearms. Closed his eyes. Think of something else. Gina’s face when she saw Lily. Yes. Gina’s face. No falling apart.
“What the hell happened?” Vic asked Roy, who had been partnered with Tiny.
“Conlin spotted us, saw Tiny and started firing.”
Oh, crap. Vic’s knees went wobbly again. With his newly shorn hair, he and Tiny resembled each other. Conlin must have thought he was firing at Vic. A razor-sharp pain hit him square in the chest, and Vic hoped he wouldn’t puke. Tiny was dead because of him.
“I took him out the second after Tiny got hit,” Roy said.
“Sirens,” Monk said, moving toward Tiny’s body. “We need to get out of here.”
“Get his head wrapped,” Vic croaked, levering himself off the floor and concentrating on breathing. “And we’ll carry him out.”
By the time they’d reached the cars, Lily had quieted, but upon seeing Vic, immediately reached for him. He shoved her head to his shoulder. He didn’t want her seeing Tiny’s body while they loaded him into the SUV. Once Tiny was safely in the back, he’d let Lily raise her head.
“Cover him with the blanket that’s in the emergency kit,” Vic said, his voice still hoarse.
“On it,” Monk said.
The blanket wouldn’t be big enough to cover all of him, but it would do the job. The pounding in Vic’s head started again and he blinked. He took a breath, concentrated on pulling himself back together. No emotional crap. Just get through it like every other time he’d lost a friend. He’d never lost anyone li
ke Tiny, though. Not family. Not someone he considered a brother.
“Billy, take him to Foyle’s. I’ll call and let them know you’re coming. Take Roy and Duck. Monk and I will go in the other car.”
“That’s the funeral parlor on Chestnut, right?” Billy asked.
“Yeah. Mike’s buddy is related to the guy who owns it. We’ve used him a couple of times.”
The sound of approaching sirens drove Vic’s spine straight. They parked behind a neighboring warehouse and could exit on the opposite street, but he wanted to get out fast. “Let’s get moving. Billy, whatever you do, don’t get pulled over. Monk and I will take Lily home and meet you. Don’t let them touch him until I get there. Someone call Mike and let him know.”
“Got it.”
“Nobody touches him,” Vic said and stalked to the other car.
Fucking Sirhan. He just earned himself a slow death.
Vic shifted in his seat just as Monk hit Cicero and headed north. Lily sat wide-eyed, staring at nothing in particular. She hadn’t moved since Vic strapped her into the middle backseat next to him. Her head suddenly lolled against his left arm, her curls soft against his bare skin, and he pushed the hair from her face.
Poor thing. She’d never be the same. This he knew for sure.
The sound of her breathing filled the otherwise silent car. Monk wouldn’t say anything. Neither would Vic. They had both been close to Tiny and would suffer the loss differently, but they’d grieve hard.
Vic grabbed his phone from the seat pocket and dialed Lynx. No answer. Tried the other numbers. He picked up on the third.
“Tiny is…gone,” Vic said, not wanting to say dead in front of Lily.
“Shit.” Lynx went quiet for a minute then asked, “Did you find Lily?”
“Yeah. She’s right here. She’s wiped. They held her at that location I told you about.”
He didn’t want to say too much on the phone. Lynx had probably already figured out that Tiny died during the op.
“Anyway,” Vic said, “the locals are going to beat you there, but it’ll be worth your effort.”
Vic should have garnered some satisfaction over the warehouse discovery, but with Tiny dead, Lily traumatized and Sirhan walking around, this whole fucking thing was a mess that had detonated in his face.
Man Law Page 22
