Unleashed (Blake Brier Thrillers Book 2)

by L. T. Ryan

  “I know you do,” Blake said, “and you will. Once we get there. But you don’t get the truck unless you agree to let me get you there safely. Plus, someone’s gotta drive it back here. You don’t want us stranded out here in no-man's-land, do you?”

  “That’s okay,” Griff said, “I’ll Uber back to Henderson and grab my rental.”

  Blake lifted his hand. “Not helping, Griff.”

  “Fine, but can we leave right now?” Haeli’s entire being oscillated like a guitar string.

  “Let’s go.” Blake opened the door.

  “Thank you all for everything you’ve done for me,” Haeli said. “I will never forget it, or you.”

  “Bye, Haeli. Good luck.” Griff sulked against the padded headboard.

  Haeli disappeared into the daylight, leaving Blake to face the stunned crowd.

  “Don’t lose too much money,” Blake said. “Drinks are on me when I get back.”

  He closed the door behind him.

  26

  The five-liter V8 howled, drowning out the incessant buzzing of the knobby tires, which had grated on Blake’s nerves the first few hours since they left Jean.

  Blake shaved off some time on the wide-open highway of the Mojave but ended up giving it back, and then some, to the bumper-to-bumper traffic around Pasadena and Glendale. Traffic was light on North Vermont Canyon Road, only a few minutes out from the observatory.

  “Time check,” Blake said.

  “Five fifty-eight,” Haeli responded.

  Blake navigated the last few curves of West Observatory Drive, passed the parking area, and stopped alongside the curb at the apex of the observatory loop, bringing them as close as possible to the building.

  Blake left the truck running while he got out and met Haeli on the passenger side. The two walked along the grass toward the astronomer’s monument. Beyond stood the iconic three domed observatory building. The location had been featured in so many movies and television shows over the years, Blake felt as though he’d been there before. It took a moment of digging through the annals of his brain before he was confident he hadn’t.

  An older man, wearing a brown blazer and striped tie, stood at the top of the steps leading to the grandiose main entrance of the building. Blake saw him. Haeli didn’t.

  At some level, Blake already knew it was him. Doctor Benjamin Becher, as promised. He felt an overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around Haeli. To squeeze so tight she could not escape. Instead, he pointed at the staircase.

  “Would that be him?” Blake asked.

  “Dad!” Haeli took two steps toward her father, then stopped. She turned, walked back toward Blake and took each of his hands in hers.

  “You saved me. I can’t thank you enough.” She leaned in and placed a tender kiss on his cheek.

  Blake appreciated the theatrical parting words, but he felt it cheapened the genuine connection they shared.

  “Will I ever see you again?” Blake’s internal struggle with saying goodbye was a little more evident than he intended to let on.

  “Honestly, I don’t know.” Haeli let go of Blake’s hands and bowed her head. “Don’t think I don’t know there is something between us. And under different circumstances, I would have loved to see where it went from here. But right now I have an opportunity. A chance for the life I always wanted. To be normal. To be a family. You understand that, right?”

  “I do,” Blake said. “Now go get it.”

  Haeli smiled. She put her hand on his cheek and kissed him. A soft, longing kiss that could only exist with the benefit of knowing it was the last. Her lips tasted sweeter than anything else he could remember.

  “Thank you.” She sprinted off toward her own destiny.

  Blake watched as Haeli and her father embraced. He returned to the truck, vowing to never look back.

  Sitting at the wheel, Blake couldn’t help but to acknowledge the sense of emptiness that filled him. The time had come to turn the page. To start the next chapter. Only, he had no idea what that would be. For now, he decided, the next step would be the long drive across the desert and a few too many whiskies with his knucklehead friends.

  He put the truck in drive and headed down the mountain toward Los Feliz. True to his vow, he didn’t look back.

  Haeli leaned on her elbows along the circular railing surrounding the pendulum that hung from the ceiling of the main rotunda. Benjamin Becher assumed a similar posture.

  “I was so scared that something bad had happened to you,” Haeli said. “I’m having trouble believing it’s over.”

  “I’m glad you’re all right, too.”

  “I saw the files, Dad. Your journal. I know what I am.”

  “I’m sorry, Haeli. I should have been the one to tell you. I’m sure you have questions.”

  “So many questions. Like, are you really my father? Was that picture really of my mother? Do I have parents at all?”

  “Haeli...” Benjamin paused.

  Haeli could tell that he didn’t want to get into it. Not now, not here. But she wanted something. Some bit of truth to kick off their new life together. So, she waited.

  “Look, I never wanted to lie to you. In many ways, I never did. My DNA is the basis for half of your genetic makeup, before the modifications, so technically I am your father, Haeli.”

  “And my mother?”

  “The picture I gave you was Sandra Moore. She was a sculptor who lived in Los Angeles. She needed cash and, as a result, donated her eggs for use by those who could not have children on their own. Thanks to a partnership with UCLA, the lab notified us that the DNA matched the profile we were looking for. She never knew about you. Nor did she expect to.”

  “Is she still alive?”

  “Unfortunately, no. She died of breast cancer a few years back. It was shocking to us because her DNA contained none of the markers. If it had, we never would have chosen her.”

  “Doctor Joseph carried you so you might say she’s your mother. You were quite fond of Doctor Joseph, as I recall.”

  “You understand why it’s a little hard to wrap my head around this, right?” She searched for a hint of understanding behind his steady gaze. “My entire life has been a complete fabrication. With everyone in it, just an actor in the grand illusion. Some twisted, fucked up version of the Truman Show.”

  “Haeli, listen to me. You are special. The most special person on this entire planet. And now that we’re reunited, do you know what I can accomplish? What impact my research will have?”

  “Research?” Haeli scoffed. “You said we were starting over. There is no research. No more manipulation. We’re a family. And we’re finally free of that place. We can go wherever we want. Do whatever we want.”

  “There’s too much at stake for that, Haeli,”

  “Dad?” A softball-sized pit formed in Haeli’s stomach. This wasn’t right. The text. The meeting. Lies. More manipulation.

  “I’m sorry, Haeli, I really am.” He patted her on the back and walked away.

  Haeli didn’t have to look behind her to know that the six black suits who had emerged from around the rotunda were surrounding her. She considered fighting. But unlike Vegas, there were no metal detectors here. The men would be armed. She wouldn’t have gotten through two of them before they mortally wounded her. The most she could do was bide her time. Pick her moment.

  The circle of men tightened. Haeli placed her hands behind her back and leaned over the railing. If only she hadn’t let Blake go. If only she had listened to her gut. She had made the wrong choice, and it would cost her.

  Blake pulled over to the side of Vermont Avenue and retrieved his phone. Griff would be interested in knowing that the reunion had gone off without a hitch. He eyed the sign of the Palermo Italian restaurant. The thought of a chicken parmesan sandwich reminded his gurgling stomach that he hadn’t eaten all day.

  First the call. Then the chow.

  The distant chopping of a low-flying helicopter grew louder. LAPD, no doubt. He’
d wait for it to pass before making his call. He thought about the way his day started. The story no one would believe if he were to tell it. Even Fezz and Khat thought he was embellishing. One thing was for certain, he’d be happy never to hear or see a helicopter again.

  The sound grew louder still. The paper coffee cup that he had grabbed from the lobby of the hotel on his way out rattled in the plastic cup holder.

  Blake opened his window. No longer muted by the glass, the timbre of the chopping blades elevated in pitch. He stuck his head out of the window and looked up.

  Little Bird.

  It wasn’t the type of aircraft used by the LAPD. Or any police department. And by the direction it was heading, it meant one thing.

  Blake threw the truck into drive and mashed the accelerator while he turned the wheel as far as it would go to the left. Even with the monster tires, the rubber let out a squeal as the truck spun around and headed north.

  He blew through the light at Franklin and at Finely, but luck was on his side and he hit the green at the next two intersections. He navigated the residential stretch of North Vermont, passing several cars on the two-lane road, once on the grass median, when a motorist refused to get out of the way.

  Blake pinned the gas as the Greek Theatre streaked by to his left. He only hoped the lifted suspension didn’t topple the truck when it hit the winding turns at the top.

  He accelerated onto West Observatory Drive. The wheel jittered and pulled against his white-knuckled grip. As he rounded the last corner, he could already see the helicopter sitting on the ground in an empty section of the parking lot. Haeli was nowhere to be seen.

  They were already onboard.

  Every course of action and the expected outcomes flashed before his eyes. If he were to ram the helicopter, he might disable it and prevent it from taking off. But what about Haeli? If she were onboard, the move could leave her mortally wounded. But if they escaped with her, they could kill Haeli before Blake had any chance of getting to her.

  It was no decision at all.

  Blake steered the truck in a beeline for the aircraft. The off-road suspension nimbly hopped the curb, tore through the shrubs and deposited him into the parking lot on a collision course with Techyon’s Little Bird.

  He held steady as the skids lifted off the pavement.

  Come on.

  The roof of the Ford F150 passed just below the elevating skids of the MH-6.

  Blake slammed on the brakes and skidded to a stop in time to avoid careering off the embankment at the edge of the lot. He jumped out of the truck and stood with his head turned to the sky.

  A fire burned inside him. A raging inferno of hatred that scrawled the words in lighter fluid across the foreseeable future.

  You. Will. Pay.

  27

  “I lost her Fezz.” Blake hit the speaker-phone button and tossed the phone onto the seat next to him.

  The phone crackled. “I co— —ar y—Mi—, ev——ing ok—.”

  “You there?” Blake said.

  “I’m here.” Fezz answered. The connection was strained but passable.

  “I said, I lost her, Fezz. She’s gone.”

  “I know, brother. But it’s for the best. Come on back, Griff’s killin’ it at the craps table. We were thinking about taking a ride out to Vegas when you get here.”

  “Fezz, you’re not listening to me.” Blake white-knuckled the steering wheel. “They took her. It was a trap. I let her walk right into it.”

  “Wait, what? Hold on, Mick, let me step outside. Can’t hear you in here.”

  Blake crossed into the left lane. He passed the Chevy Impala as if it were standing still and eased back over to the right. He checked the speedometer. One-hundred-six miles per hour. The speedometer dial went to one-forty but, by the feel of the steering, Blake didn’t feel like he could eke much more out of it without severely reducing his chances of making it back to Jean in one piece.

  “Okay, that’s better,” Fezz said, his voice clearer and more at the forefront. “Are you saying the drop went bad?”

  “The drop? She wasn’t a bag of money, Fezz. I’m saying the whole thing was a setup. She thought she was starting her new life. It turned out to be the opposite.”

  “Oh crap,” Fezz said. “It wasn’t her father that texted her?”

  “No,” Blake said. “It was her father. That’s the problem. He was there. I saw him. It was her father that set her up.”

  “Unreal. Where are you, Mick?”

  “I’m on fifteen. I’m coming. You need to grab Khat and Griff. Tell them to stop drinking right now.”

  “We’re doing this, aren’t we?” Fezz asked.

  “I’m not gonna let this happen again,” Blake said. “I don’t care if I go down trying, but I’m going after her.”

  “We’re with you, Blake, you know that. You sure they took her to the desert?”

  “I’m not sure of anything.” Blake tried to rationalize his logic. To connect a thread from point A to point B. But he had to admit to himself it was just a feeling. It was only his intuition that told him they took Haeli back to the underground lab. He talked through it.

  “Techyon’s helicopter showed up and carted her away,” Blake explained. “They could have killed her, or they could have shoved her into a car if they didn’t want to do it there. They put her on the helicopter because they’re taking her out to the desert. They’re taking her to Levi, I’d bet my life on it.”

  “Okay, then,” Fezz said. “I’ll rally the troops. Let ‘em know it’s still a go. I don’t think they’ll be upset. Do you want me to call Kook?”

  Blake agreed. “We’re down one. Could use all the help we can get.”

  “Done,” Fezz said. “Meet us in Henderson. Call me when you’re close. Gonna need that truck. We’ll get loaded up when you get here.”

  “Thanks, Fezz. Call you in a few.”

  The phone disconnected and entered sleep mode. Blake turned up the radio to distract his mind for the next couple of hours. He couldn’t get there soon enough.

  28

  “Move.” The command came with a jab to the spine by the muzzle of an MP7 submachine gun.

  Haeli recognized the voice, but she couldn’t place the man. Then again, she expected this would be somewhat of a reunion, having worked with and around many of Levi’s cronies for her entire adult life.

  The tunnel was wider and brighter than she imagined. For the most part, the team had been accurate in their assumptions about the location and layout of the entrance.

  The pilot, called Coop, touched down in the parking area next to the small building she had previously only seen from space. Up close, the structure looked more like a rustic home than a commercial building. A carved wooden sign identified it as a ranger station.

  Inside, corkboards pinned with flyers warning of fire danger and low-impact camping tips verified the illusion. Paperwork was strewn about two metal desks, complete with knickknacks and family photos.

  As far as Haeli could tell, the disguised guard house was manned by two men, each wearing the khaki uniform of the Nevada State Park Ranger. Haeli wondered if either of the men would help an injured hiker or stranded motorist who wandered upon the shack, counting their prayers as being answered. She decided they would. Because she would have.

  It was the same with men who trailed behind her, poking, prodding, and yelling. She had a hard time finding animosity toward them. Just a few short months prior, she could well have been part of the same welcoming party.

  Sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped into her eyes. The temperature in the tunnel was stifling.

  Haeli had tried to take mental pictures of her surroundings on the way in. The cabinet in the back room of the ranger station that served as the access point to the steep subterranean stairwell, the number of stairs, the number of strides from the bottom of the stairs to the end of the tunnel. It was a sound idea, but she had gotten distracted by the pain of the steel handcuffs that one of her
escorts sadistically twisted on her and lost count of her steps after about an eighth of a mile. It wouldn’t matter, though. She had no way of relaying any of this information to the team.

  The team.

  A sense of amusement swelled in her, fueled by the irony of her predicament. All because she was chasing something that wasn’t real. If she were giving advice to someone else, she’d say no one ever reached their goal by looking back. For her, it had all been about family, about connection.

  Haeli, you idiot.

  In the short time she had known Blake and Griff, and even the other guys, they had felt more like a family than anything she had ever known. They cared for her. About her. And they truly had her back. She had found what she was looking for, too blinded by the past to see it. Now, she wondered if they would come for her at all.

  “Stop here,” one man said.

  The tunnel ended at a concrete wall which housed a single, windowless steel door. Embedded in the wall was a thin plastic pad, typical of any office building that employed electronic access control.

  A man stepped forward. She expected him to wield an access card or key fob. Instead, he swiped his hand in front of the sensor. The sensor beeped. The door swung open. A blast of cool air rushed over Haeli’s glistening face, and the loose strands of hair danced against her nose. It felt good. Even in times like these, simple pleasures still applied.

  The muzzle of the gun nudged her through the door. As she passed, she took another hard look at the hand of the man who had gained them entry. Empty. She came to the only logical conclusion. A subdermal device. Radio frequency identification chip, most likely. She added this piece of information to the list of things she wished she could tell Blake.

  For the next few minutes, they led Haeli through several rooms and corridors. She counted each turn. Five, so far. Despite her heightened level of attention, she doubted that she could retrace her steps exactly.

  They stopped in front of a door labelled Genetics Lab. There had been no opportunity for conversation en route, and Benjamin had separated from the group and hurried inside as soon as the helicopter touched down. But now, with another swipe of the hand and a shove from behind, Haeli stood face-to-face with the man she had called Dad for her entire life.