“Get in line. I called dibs on it first,” Chaise replied dryly.
She flipped the sun visor down and attempted to fix her hair for the fifth time. Just as she finished, her window rolled down of its own accord for the sixth time. The air gusted into Bull’s truck, whipped her hair in every direction, and she screamed in frustration. “He’s really pissing me off.”
“I’ve locked the windows, but he’s evidently overriding the sensor.” Bull shook his head.
All four passenger windows and the back sliding window had randomly opened and closed during their entire ride to their dinner reservation.
“Can he see us?” Chaise asked tentatively.
“I really don’t know, babe,” Bull replied. “But just in case, here’s my one-finger salute, asshole.”
The touchscreen navigation screen lit up and the automated voice filled the cab of the truck. “In five hundred feet, turn right.”
Bull and Chaise looked at the screen in disbelief before they turned to look at each other. “What the hell? I didn’t turn the GPS on. I know how to get to the restaurant.”
“I said turn right!” The GPS voice yelled through the speakers. “Are you stupid?”
Chaise started touching all the buttons she could find to turn off the GPS, but nothing seemed to work. It continued to hurl hateful and sarcastic insults at Bull about his driving, his inability to ask for directions, and how late he would be for their dinner reservation. The more the voice spoke, the madder Bull became.
“If you can hear me, you son of a bitch, I think you’re a complete pussy. Hiding behind a computer screen and taunting people doesn’t make you a badass at all. Come meet me like a man and show me what you’ve got, face-to-face,” Bull challenged.
The computer-generated voice in his GPS replied. “You will meet me again soon enough, Colton. Perhaps Chaise will be happy to be in the company of a real man then.”
“Why don’t you show me how you’re a real man, Turan? Right now,” Bull replied.
There was no response from the GPS voice, so he turned the engine off, and they walked into the restaurant.
“Hello. Welcome to The Crimson Table. How can I help you?” the hostess asked.
“We have a seven o’clock reservation for two,” Bull replied.
“Wonderful. What name is it under?”
“Lanier,” he replied.
She checked her computer scheduling system and verified the last name again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lanier, but we don’t seem to have a reservation for you.”
Bull stared at the woman and tried to control his temper when he replied. “We’ve had this reservation for two weeks. We’ve talked to the catering chef and the restaurant manager about the menu for our rehearsal dinner. Our reservation tonight is specifically to sample our customized menu.”
“One moment and I will check with them,” the hostess replied.
She quickly walked away, and Bull turned to face Chaise. “You don’t think he…”
“If he did,” Chaise cut in, “I’ll completely lose my shit. He’d better stay in hiding, that’s all I’m saying.”
The hostess returned and her face showed her reluctance to share what she’d learned. “I spoke to both the manager and the catering chef,” she started. “They each said that you contacted them by email and canceled your reservation.”
“No, I didn’t. Why would I do that?” Bull countered.
“They both said they distinctly remembered the email because…” She paused. “Because it said that your fiancée had left you for a real man, and you knew when you’d been beaten.”
Bull cut his eyes to Chaise. “I’m going to kill him, Chaise.”
“Not if I see him first,” she replied.
Chaise turned to the confused hostess and explained. “We’re being cyberstalked by a crazy man. He’s obviously behind the emails the manager and chef received because neither us of sent them. We’re still very much together, and we’d still like to have a rehearsal dinner for our wedding.”
“I can make a new reservation, but there’s no way we can do it tonight. I’m really very sorry,” the hostess replied.
“I’m not making a new reservation just for him to mess with us again,” Bull replied. “Let’s go somewhere else, Chaise.”
“You know what? You’re exactly right, Colton. Let’s go. I’d think that any reputable place would’ve called to verify an email cancelation of a rehearsal dinner menu selection,” Chaise replied. “We’ll take our business elsewhere.”
When they reached the truck, Chaise had an even better idea. “I know what to do. I’m calling Brianna.”
After several minutes on the phone with her sister-in-law, she had everything worked out. “Great news. Brianna’s dad can have one of his top chefs handle our menu and the entire rehearsal dinner. We don’t have to find another place. Let’s just go eat somewhere easy to get in.”
“I’m glad you’re the brains of this team.” Bull smiled at her.
“Yeah, you got real lucky there,” Chaise laughed.
Her laughter stopped the second her window rolled down again. “You fucking bastard!” she yelled. She turned to Bull and gave him a sly smile. “Screw him. Roll them all down, Bull. Let’s just ride with the windows down tonight.”
“Another great idea,” Bull said as he rolled the other windows down and opened the back sliding window.
After they settled in to enjoy the warm Miami air, all of the windows rolled up and locked in place. They both slowly turned their heads to look at each other. Chaise pulled a pen and paper out of her purse and quickly scratched out a note to Bull.
Hurry and get us home. He has too much control over the truck.
Bull nodded, his face immediately registering the seriousness of the situation. Turan controlled the truck’s computer, GPS, and windows, and Bull didn’t know what he may lose control of next. He changed lanes to prepare to take the next exit off the interstate. He made a split-second decision to park his truck and call a taxi to take them home. By the time Turan found the car they were in, they’d already be safely home. As the truck slowed down, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Suddenly, the truck accelerated by itself and the steering wheel locked in place. “Chaise, tighten your seat belt,” Bull yelled.
Without waiting for her to react, Bull reached over, grabbed her seat belt, and hitched it up so that the safety mechanism pulled her tightly against the seat. When the tires left the pavement, the tachometer revved into the red zone as the speed continued to increase. Bull tried in vain to turn the wheel, stomp on the brakes, pull the emergency brake, and even throw the truck into park. When they hit the steep grade of the embankment, the truck’s angle was inherently dangerous.
“As soon as it stops, get away from the truck,” Bull commanded.
“What?” Chaise gasped, scared out of her mind.
The high speed was aggravated by the grade and angle of the truck, causing the tires on the higher side to leave the ground completely. In a split second, the top–heavy truck cab tipped over. The sound of crunching metal, breaking glass, and exploding airbags was deafening as the truck rolled over several times before coming to a stop near the bottom of the ramp.
Dazed and confused, Chaise slowly opened her eyes and was momentarily unsure where she was. Everything looked upside down and only added to her confusion. Bull’s last words to her were the first coherent thought she had.
The truck. The wreck. Get away.
When she turned her head to look for Bull, her heart felt like it stopped and her already ragged breath seized in her chest. “Bull!” she yelled, forcing the air from her lungs. He was gone—she was in the truck alone. “Oh my God.” The panic rose in her chest. “Bull!”
She clawed at her seat belt buckle as she tried to free herself from its tight hold. The buckle refused to release her and felt as if it continued to tighten even more as she pulled at it. Two large, warm hands covered hers and stilled her movements.
&
nbsp; “Relax, baby,” Bull’s calm voice soothed. “Let me get you out.”
Bull slid the knife out of the sheath strapped to his ankle. He made a couple of slices across the seat belt and helped ease her out of the seat. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No, I don’t think so. Just terrified.” Her voice quivered when she spoke, and Bull gathered her into his arms.
“I know, babe.” He slowly and methodically rubbed over her back to calm her but also to check for injuries her brain hadn’t yet registered in her frightened state. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m sure. Maybe a couple of bruises and burns from the tight seat belt and the airbags, but nothing to worry about,” she replied.
Within seconds, Bull’s cell phone began ringing. He pulled it out of his pants pocket and saw Reaper’s name on the screen. “We’re okay,” he said as a greeting. “My truck is totaled, but we’re not injured.”
“Thank God,” Noah exclaimed. “I’m so glad we added the emergency alert system for our personal vehicles. We’re on our way to get you.”
“No, don’t risk it,” Bull warned. “Turan had control of my truck. Locked up the steering, took control over everything. He could’ve hacked in to yours, too.”
“I’ll call Rebel to come get you,” Noah replied.
A few minutes later, Rebel arrived on the scene in his older model Jeep. He found Bull and Chaise giving detailed information about the wreck to the police. The cop was giving Bull a doubtful look as he explained how Turan had taken control of his truck, that was until the CIA and FBI agents elbowed their way in to take over the scene.
“This is Special Agent Landry with the FBI Denver office,” Bill said by way of introduction. “He and his partner, Agent Daniels, will be working with us on this case in a joint CIA-FBI task force.”
“You must have more information then,” Rebel stated.
“There’s been more chatter, both domestically and internationally. We’re not taking any chances. Landry and Daniels both worked the case initially in Denver, so they’re temporarily relocating to Miami,” Bill explained.
“The local FBI office isn’t happy about this, but we’re not giving up our original case,” Landry said.
Bull and Chaise retold their story from the beginning of the night, stressing they were sure Turan was also behind the mix-up at the restaurant. “He ensured you’d both be at his mercy inside the truck when he canceled your dinner reservation,” Daniels agreed after Bull finished recounting their night.
“And what else does he have rigged?” Bull asked rhetorically.
“Exactly,” Joe agreed. “We’re towing your truck to one of our facilities to have it analyzed. Your team needs to be prepared for him to take control of anything with a computer chip that’s open to a Wi-Fi signal.”
“That’s why I’m in my old Jeep. Everything’s manual on it,” Rebel replied.
“He’s sending us back to the Stone Age,” Chaise grumbled.
The CIA agents, FBI agents, Rebel, and Bull all snapped their heads to Chaise, then to each other. Bull stepped in front of her, pulled her face to his, and lovingly kissed her. “You’re a genius, babe.”
“Why? What’d I do?” Chaise asked.
* * *
“Are they okay?” Brianna asked when Noah hung up the phone.
“Yeah, they’re fine,” he replied before he rolled over to kiss her. “Rebel just dropped them off at Bull’s. Chaise said she’s just a little sore from the seat belt and airbags, and she’s tired from a long night. She’ll probably be even sorer tomorrow. It’s amazing that neither of them has any major injuries.”
“He could’ve killed them,” Brianna stated. “Do you think he meant to?”
“No, I don’t, because he’s capable of killing them if that’s what he wanted to do. I think he’s still toying with us right now, but he’s ramping up the stakes. The problem is, we won’t know he’s decided to take it to the next level until the moment it happens.”
“We’ll just have to catch him before he’s had enough of messing with us,” Brianna asserted.
“I’m all ears if you have a plan to draw him out.”
“It seems like he wants to keep hiding behind his computer screen, like a bully. That’s strange, though, because he didn’t mind trying to kill Liz to her face. He’s killed others, too, using different means. So everything has to be on his terms, according to his plans,” Brianna spoke as if she were thinking aloud.
“Keep going. What are you on to?”
“When he killed people in the past, was it one-on-one, like when he tried with Liz?”
“I don’t know, but I can find out. You think he’s too afraid to take on more than one at a time?”
“Yes, exactly like a bully,” she replied. “He’ll make our lives hell while we’re together and do everything he can to separate us. Once he gets us alone, he’ll pounce. Of course, this is just a theory until we get more detailed information on how he murdered the others.”
“We? You’re getting that look in your eye again, Bri,” Noah warned. “No more investigative reporting or snooping for you.”
She smiled mischievously at him, but she softened her voice when she responded with feigned innocence. “Would I do that?”
“Yes, you would,” he chuckled. “And don’t think for one second that you’re fooling me with that sweet, little girl voice.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Of what? Snooping or fooling me?”
“I’m not sure I understand the question,” she replied.
Noah moved as quickly as lightning to cover her body with his, hovering just above her slightly protruding belly. “Brianna Leigh Steele, don’t test me. I can make you disappear until this case is over, and I will do it if I have to,” he spoke slowly and emphasized each word.
“It’s so easy to get you riled up. Now, while you’re in position, it’s time for you to perform for your wife.” She smiled seductively.
“For future reference, all you have to do is breathe and I’m primed to perform for my wife.”
“Good to know,” she replied as she raised her head from the pillow to kiss his lips. “I’m breathing.”
“I feel you,” he replied.
“I feel you,” she purred.
Early the next morning, Brad reported to Noah’s house to share what he’d found. When Noah opened the door, Brad couldn’t contain his smile. In the war on the man who had made everyone’s life a living hell and made the entire team feel somewhat ineffective, he finally had a solid lead.
“Come on in, Brad. You’re here early,” Noah said as he ushered Brad inside.
“Yeah, this is something you and the guys will want to see for yourselves,” Brad replied.
Brad got his laptop set up in Noah’s home office while they waited for the other men to arrive. He opened several programs, one after the other, to show a specific layout of websites. Noah took his seat just as Bull, Rebel, and Shadow filed into his office.
Brad looked around. “No CIA or FBI today?”
“No,” Shadow said as he closed the door and removed a device from his pocket. He placed it on the desk and nodded at the rest of the group. “Room is secure.”
“We don’t trust the CIA?” Brad asked, his brow furrowed and his eyes cutting from one man to the next.
“Never trust a spy, kid.” Shadow smiled.
“Weren’t you in the CIA?”
“Yep.”
“But you left, right?”
“You never really leave the CIA, Brad,” Shadow replied flatly. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
“Our man Turan really is a computer genius. I’ve had the program backtracking his location for the last few weeks. He built a very complex international network of signals and connections so he could stay hidden. He’s good. He’s very good.
“But I’m better,” Brad rightfully boasted. “I’ve traced him back here to Miami where he’s holed up, waiting to make his final mo
ve.”
“You know his exact location?” Shadow asked.
“Yes, I do,” Brad confirmed. “I verified it with satellite photography. He doesn’t leave the house hardly at all, but he has opened the door for food delivery.”
“Show us where he is,” Noah said.
Brad pulled up the street-level map and also gave them satellite pictures of all sides of the house. “Are you going to go pick him up now?”
“No,” Shadow interjected.
“No?” Brad asked.
“No, not yet. All we know right now is that he’s being a pain in the ass to us. This can’t be his only plan. And if we pick him up now, we may not find out in time. We need to let him think he’s still winning, still playing us, while we continue to run our endgame on him,” Shadow explained.
“You sure about this, Shadow?” Rebel asked. “This could severely backfire on us. If we don’t haul him in when we have the chance, and something big happens, our asses will be on the line.”
“If we haul him in too soon, and something big happens, our asses are still on the line,” Bull stated.
“I’d rather catch him with both hands in the cookie jar. I don’t want him sitting in jail with a smug look on his face because we missed his master plan. He’s not the type to just give it up on his own,” Noah surmised.
“So, we’re going to have a little fun with the computer genius who’s having way too much fun with us?” Rebel asked.
“What do you say, Brad?” Noah asked.
“I say, hell yeah. Let’s have some fun with him, aggravate him until he fucks up,” Brad replied.
“I think we may be a bad influence on him.” Shadow grinned. “It’s about damn time.”
“It’s been too long since we were an unrecognized, government-sanctioned unit,” Noah stated. “This feels like we’re back home again.” The five men began to plan their counterattack on Ali Babek Turan. They decided it was time to turn the tables on him, use his own game against him, but with a few twists of their own.
Wicked Nights Page 9
