Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series)

by Kristine Mason

  As he headed into the grocery store, he decided it was time to stop butting heads with Ian. The man had set everything aside to go to bat for Naomi. For that alone he would be forever indebted to Ian.

  Pulling out Naomi’s shopping list, he grabbed a cart and began navigating the aisles. When he was halfway through the list, his cell phone rang. Assuming Naomi had forgotten to add something, he quickly retrieved the phone.

  “I see you’re at Naomi’s house,” Ian said.

  Jake placed a loaf of bread in the cart. “How did you— Naomi’s right. We’ll need to remove her GPS chip.” He sure as hell wouldn’t like people knowing his every move. “Any word on Hunnicutt?”

  The FBI still hadn’t made it public that they’d arrested the bastard. Ian had contacted his Bureau connections and had been hounding them for information. Even though CORE had helped the Feds apprehend Hunnicutt and had stopped him from detonating any more bombs, they’d stonewalled Ian. When he’d spoken with Ian last night, his boss had been in a foul mood. Ian, like Jake and Naomi, and everyone else involved with the case, wanted answers.

  “You need to bring Naomi back to Chicago. Rachel already has a jet waiting for you at Kingsland Airport.”

  The urgency and concern in Ian’s voice had him stopping the cart in the middle of the aisle. “What’s happened?”

  “Jake, Hunnicutt was released yesterday morning.”

  I’m anxious to be alone with Rose… Maybe next time you’ll reconsider running from me, not that I’ll allow that to happen.

  What Hunnicutt had said to Naomi in the warehouse apartment came back to him in a rush. With fear crawling under his skin, Jake left the shopping cart in the aisle and sprinted for the door. The bastard had been free for over twenty-four hours. “He knows Naomi’s new ID, which would make it easy for him to—”

  “Don’t go there,” Ian said. “Hunnicutt’s not stupid. Going after Naomi now would be a huge risk for him. I still want you two here. If Hunnicutt does try anything, CORE will make sure she’s protected.”

  After telling Ian they’d be at the airport in an hour, Jake climbed into the SUV and shoved the key in the ignition. Ian was right. Hunnicutt wasn’t stupid, but he was arrogant. At this point, Naomi was the only one who had witnessed what the bastard had done. Considering the man had everything to lose—his billions, his company, his political career, he could also be desperate.

  Maybe next time you’ll reconsider running from me…

  Hunnicutt was also obsessed.

  Jake gripped the steering wheel tight as he sped out of the parking lot. His gut told him Hunnicutt wasn’t finished with Naomi and that he’d eventually strike again. Until Hunnicutt was either convicted of his crimes or dead, she’d never be truly free. But this time around, she wouldn’t be running and she wouldn’t be alone.

  Whether she liked it or not, she was coming home with him, where he could protect her.

  Chapter 18

  HARRISON’S SWEATY PALMS stuck to the plastic bag as he clutched the laptop to his chest. A few minutes ago they’d pulled alongside the curb, five doors down from Rose’s house, and had been debating whether or not to make a move.

  “There’s no car in the driveway,” Harrison said and stared at the house. “I’m telling you, she’s alone.”

  “Garage closed.” Vlad tapped the steering wheel. “Maybe he park there.”

  “Her car is in the garage. Remember?” When they went to her house yesterday, he’d gone to the service door on the side of the garage and had looked through the window. Rose had a two car garage, but her lawnmower, gardening equipment and a bike took up half the space, only her car would fit inside.

  “Vlad remember.”

  He reached for the car door. “Then let’s do this.”

  The Russian grabbed his arm. “Maybe she go with him?”

  “We won’t know unless we go to the house.”

  “And knock on front door?”

  “I’m not going to break a window and scare the shit out of her. She’ll call the cops and then we’re cooked.”

  “Vlad don’t like this.”

  “There’s something new. You’ve been saying that since Monday.” Still staring at Rose’s house, he released a frustrated sigh. “Look. All we have to do is hand over the laptop, then it’s off to Florida. I see a beach bar in your—holy shit, duck.”

  As Rose’s front door opened, Harrison slid down the passenger seat. He glanced next to him and saw that Vlad had done the same. “She’s getting her mail,” Harrison said, peering out the window. “Now we know for sure she’s home and alone.”

  “Fine. Harry go do good deed. Vlad honk horn if man return.”

  Harrison’s stomach knotted with a mixture of eagerness and apprehension. What he was about to do could go one of two ways. Smooth or complicated. Based on the way Rose had acted at the warehouse, he was leaning toward smooth. She’d made it obvious she hated Hunnicutt just as much as he did. She’d also been very concerned over the bombings. The laptop was his insurance. If she so much as screamed or made their encounter complicated, it would remain with him.

  “She back in house now. Well? Harry go or not?”

  Harrison used the back of his hand to wipe the perspiration from his upper lip. Between the warm weather and his nerves, he couldn’t stop sweating. “You’ll honk?”

  The Russian nodded. “Vlad honk, Harry run from back of house, get in car from street behind.”

  “Do you remember which house is behind hers?”

  “Harry stalling. Go. Get done and over.”

  Harrison rolled up the window, then curved his fingers around the door handle.

  “Remember to keep bag,” Vlad reminded him.

  Right. His prints were all over the plastic bag and could be easily lifted. “I will.” He took a deep breath. “See you in five.”

  Vlad jerked him back and shoved his head down. “What the hell, Vlad?” he asked, trying to push the heavy Russian off of him.

  “Honey Badger.”

  “What?” That couldn’t be. The FBI couldn’t have let him go.

  “Look,” Vlad said, easing up his hold. “Careful. See, behind bush near side window.”

  “He’s going in through the back gate.” Frustrated and angry at the bullshit turn of events, Harrison smacked the back of his head against the seat several times. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  “We go now,” Vlad said, shifting the car into drive and hitting the gas.

  “No,” Harrison shouted and opened the car door.

  Vlad slammed on the brakes. Harrison’s body lurched forward and he smacked his hand on the dash, stopping his head from making impact.

  “What the fuck,” Vlad roared. “Harry stupid ass. Vlad don’t want to deal with Honey—”

  “Screw the goddamn Badger. Come on, Vlad. You were in the warehouse. You know what he’ll do to her.”

  The Russian smashed his hand on the steering wheel. “She not Vlad’s problem.”

  “Well, she’s mine. How can I not do anything?”

  “Fine. We drive, then stop and Harry call police.”

  “Brilliant. Fucking brilliant. And what do you think the cops will find when they get to her house? I’ll tell you what, either a dead body or a missing woman. He set off all of those bombs and forced me to carve her name into my brother’s stomach.” He pounded his fist on the dashboard. “I had a gun pointed to my head and cut my twin, my flesh and blood’s stomach. Hunnicutt can’t get away with this. And those stupid, asshole Feds…damn it.” He hit the dash again, then wiped a hand down his face. “Give me a gun.”

  “No.”

  “Fuck you, Vlad. Give me a damn gun.”

  The Russian glanced at him, then out the windshield. “Мать ублюдок,” Vlad yelled and drove his fist into the roof of the car. Breathing hard and mumbling Russian, he reached into the back. “Here. Harry want gun to get revenge, Harry get what he want.”

  Harrison had no idea what Vlad placed in his hand,
only that it was big, heavy and made him feel like Dirty Harry. “Is it loaded?”

  “Yes.”

  His stomach seized. “Do I just aim and shoot?”

  “Yes.”

  Harrison blew out a breath and looked to the house. Hunnicutt was likely inside by now doing God knows what to Rose.

  “Harry want revenge and be hero. Now chance.”

  Gripping the gun in one hand and still clutching the laptop with the other, he leaned toward Vlad. “I’m no hero. Saving Rose won’t make me one, not after what Hunnicutt made me do. Maybe you might be able to, but I can’t just drive off and let him have her.” Harrison set the gun in his lap, then reached for the handle and opened the car door. “If you want to go, then go. If I get caught helping Rose, then I’ll probably get what I deserve.”

  “No.”

  “No, what?” he asked, hoping to God Vlad would help him. He had no problem killing Hunnicutt, but he’d love to have Vlad at his back. The Badger was unpredictable.

  The Russian shifted the gear into PARK. “Vlad and Harry friends, yes?”

  Nodding, Harrison glanced back to the house. Where the hell was the guy who was staying with Rose? “Yes. Probably the weirdest friendship I’ve ever had,” he said and picked the gun up from his lap. “Vlad, I’ve got to go. I’m not going to argue with you while Hunnicutt’s inside there.” He pointed to the house. “How long does it take to slit someone’s throat? Or strangle them?” After pushing the door open with his arm, he dropped his foot on the curb. “I couldn’t save the bombing victims or Mickey. But I can help Rose.”

  Vlad reached into the back seat and pulled out another gun. “And Vlad can help Harry,” he said, checking the weapon.

  Thank God. “Good. How do you want to do this?”

  “We go in the way of Honey Badger.”

  “Okay, then what? Do I just shoot him? Won’t that be noisy?”

  Vlad lifted a shoulder. “Harry rather use Vlad’s knife?”

  Harrison’s heart pounded hard. He was going to kill a man of his own free will. His moral radar should be dinging right now, but he kept seeing the images from the bombings, kept picturing Rose crying and tied to the chair as she looked at Mickey’s stomach.

  “I wouldn’t have a problem cutting him.”

  “Good. Here.” Vlad unsheathed the knife at his belt and handed it to him. “Give Vlad gun before Harry shoot off foot.”

  As he reached across and exchanged weapons with Vlad, he glanced out the car’s back window. “It’s the guy. Holy shit, it’s him,” he said as a black SUV raced toward them.

  Vlad yelled something in Russian while Harrison set the laptop on the passenger seat. “What Harry doing?”

  “The right thing,” he responded and slammed the door shut, then quickly stepped onto the curb, waving his arms.

  The man they’d seen walking into Rose’s house earlier slowed to a stop behind the Toronado, then jumped out of the vehicle and aimed a gun at Harrison. “Drop it and tell the other guy to exit the car. Slow. Hands raised.”

  Stepping onto the tree lawn, Harrison realized too late he still clutched Vlad’s knife. With his heart racing fast, he slowly bent and set the knife on the grass. Vlad climbed out of the car and closed the door. With his hands raised, he narrowed his eyes at Harrison.

  “Vlad tired of being right.”

  Harrison ignored the Russian. “Hunnicutt’s inside with Rose,” he called to the man. “We saw him on the side of her house and watched him go inside the gate. We think he went in through the back patio.”

  The man clenched his jaw, shifted his gaze toward Rose’s house, then back to Harrison. “Get over by him,” he said to Vlad. “Move. Quick.”

  The Russian rushed around the back of the car and met Harrison on the grass.

  “We’re telling the truth. If he went inside when we think he did, he’s been with her for almost five minutes.”

  The man looked between them. “Harrison Fairclough and Vlad Aristov?”

  Harrison nodded. “We came here to give Rose the computer I took from Hunnicutt’s warehouse. Are you FBI?”

  “No. Where’s the computer?”

  “In the car,” Harrison nodded to the Toronado.

  “How do I know you’re not working for Hunnicutt?” the man asked, reaching in his pocket and pulling out his phone.

  “Because he killed my brother. Look, the codes for the bombs are on the laptop. We also came to give Rose the locations of the three bombs Hunnicutt hasn’t detonated. Yet.” Why the hell was this guy wasting time? “Hunnicutt is dangerous. We need to get inside before he does something really bad to Rose.”

  “Did you detonate the bombs?”

  “With a gun to my head or my brother’s. Why the hell do you think we ran from the warehouse?”

  “Hunnicutt’s alone?”

  “We think,” Vlad said. “Hard to tell.”

  He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Give me the knife.”

  Anxious to run into Rose’s house and kill Hunnicutt, Harrison picked the knife and handed it over to the man.

  After he tossed the knife into the SUV, the man slammed the car door. He looked to Vlad. “Do you have a weapon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where?”

  “In car.”

  “Throw me the keys.”

  Vlad flashed Harrison another dirty look before tossing the keys.

  The man pocketed them, and said, “I’ll go through the patio door, Harrison, watch the front and, Vlad, you stay by the door leading into the garage from the side of the house. Those are the only exits. Holler if he tries to leave. If Hunnicutt’s in there, he’s not coming out. Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” Harrison said. “Aren’t you going to call the police?”

  “I used to be a sheriff, so we’re good.”

  “But don’t you want back up?”

  Jake looked between Harrison and Vlad. “You two are my back up,” he said and started to move.

  “Aren’t you worried we’re going to run and leave you high and dry?”

  “Do what you have to do,” Jake said to Harrison, then he took off at a sprint between houses. He could give a shit if they disappeared on him. Naomi had told him all about the two men and he had no quarrel with them. His sole focuses were making sure no harm came to Naomi and killing Hunnicutt. The fucking FBI let him walk once and Jake refused to allow that to happen again.

  He ran across a backyard, hopped a short, picket fence, then quickly moved through the next backyard, and then the next. One more home and he’d reach Naomi’s. As he rushed across her neighbor’s yard, a part of him hoped Harrison and Vlad would stick around just in case Hunnicutt left through the front or garage door. Especially if he had Rose.

  Maybe next time you’ll reconsider running from me…

  Jake ran through the neighbor’s flowerbed, then through the tall hedges at the exit of the backyard. When he reached Naomi’s gate, he checked his surroundings and caught a glimpse of Harrison and Vlad running through the neighboring front yard and toward Naomi’s.

  With adrenaline pumping through him, he slid the lock and opened the gate. The yard was quiet. The glass of tea he’d drank earlier sat on the patio table. The sliding door was closed and he hoped to God it hadn’t been locked. He didn’t have a key to her house, and didn’t want to break any windows and alert Hunnicutt.

  Keeping his back against the vinyl siding, he crept along the bricks. When he reached the glass door, he peeked inside. The sheer drapes allowed him a view of the kitchen. Empty. He reached for the door handle. Gun raised and angled toward the kitchen table, he slid the door open, then crouched and moved inside behind the kitchen island.

  Staying low to the floor, he eased his way through the room, then quickly rushed down the short hall off the kitchen toward Naomi’s laundry room and office. After checking both rooms, he reentered the kitchen, scanned the living room and caught Harrison’s silhouette through the frosted glass near the front door
.

  With the house eerily silent, his stomach and chest clenched with anxiety. There were only three more rooms to check, the guest bedroom and bathroom, and Naomi’s room. He stopped at the guest room first, and after finding it empty, he looked inside the bathroom. When he reached the end of the hallway, he placed his ear on Naomi’s closed bedroom door. Running water? Not from the sink or shower, but from the bathtub.

  Had Harrison and Vlad lied to him or maybe been mistaken about Hunnicutt? Would the bastard really come to Woodbine right after the FBI released him?

  Drawing in a deep breath, he reached for the door knob and turned. Keeping his gun raised, he eased the door open and peered inside the darkened room. A stream of light came from a partially broken blind hanging haphazardly from the window furthest from the bathroom. The nightstand near the window lay on its side. Glass, from the lamp that had once rested there, littered the hardwood floor. He glanced to the left. The bathroom door stood ajar, the sound of running water growing louder as he crept into the room.

  Careful not to make a sound, he kept his steps light and moved to the wall adjacent to the bathroom door. Heart racing, he crept closer, and adjusted his grip on the gun. Scared of what he’d find once he opened the door and now kicking himself in the ass for not calling for back up, he drew in a deep breath. Fuck it. Hunnicutt wasn’t leaving alive. The bastard would never hurt Naomi or anyone else again.

  Jake took a step back, raised the gun and kicked open the door.

  Naomi.

  His throat tightened and his legs grew weak. His arms shook, while terror and rage tore through him and settled deep in his gut. He aimed the gun at Hunnicutt’s head. The man sat on the marbled edge of the bathtub, his gun also on the ledge and within arm’s reach. Instead of going for the gun, Hunnicutt gave him a smug smile and smoothed the damp hair away from Naomi’s pale face.

  The bath water, reminding him of the color of pink roses, came up to her collarbone. Blood trickled from her nose to the duct tape covering her mouth. She whimpered and groaned. Her tear-soaked eyes were on Jake and filled with a mixture of agony and horror.