Not gonna happen. Not tonight. I’d save my strength for facing Redding.
“Go on then,” Geneva said finally. “I’m sure your brothers need you. I’ll be here.”
I watched her gaze drift to the window next to her, to the small garden Abby had helped her plant behind the duplex last spring. She sighed. “Let me know…”
There was so much to know: arrangements for Abby, what the police might find out, who was behind this. That last bit of information would most likely shatter any relationship between Geneva and me, but I’d share it. Not right now, but when the time was right.
For now I had a man to destroy.
“I will,” I said, letting everything else fall away. I stood and leaned over her, feeling the familiar papery texture of her cheek as I kissed her. “You rest.”
She nodded, but I could see in her eyes that she wouldn’t rest anytime soon. The moment we’d lost the best thing in our worlds would be on constant repeat in our brains until we died.
I closed the bedroom door behind me and was in the living room with barely two steps down the tiny hall. Not long enough to get my shit together, but it would have to do. Remi and Eli stood near the front door with Bryant, the three big men seeming to take up the whole room. I nodded to the small group of strangers opposite them and ushered my brothers and Bryant out the door.
“Levi, God—”
I didn’t know who spoke; it didn’t matter. I held up my hand, took a moment to force composure into my voice. “Not right now. I can’t…” I shook my head, grateful as all fuck that aside from yards of damaged pavement and strings of yellow police tape, the evidence of what had happened mere hours ago was gone. “I just can’t right now.”
When I glanced their way, I could read understanding in my brothers’ eyes.
“This was Redding,” I said.
Not surprisingly, no one argued. Just nods all around. Describing the text I’d received did elicit some harsh, if hushed, profanity. We weren’t the only ones still outside.
“Where’s the SIM card, Levi?” Bryant asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” I told him.
Frustration roughened Bryant’s voice, as if he already knew he wasn’t going to win. “Of course it does. You can’t let this go unpunished. With that text as evidence, he will get all the punishment he deserves.”
“Oh, he’ll be punished,” Remi said. “He’ll know hell before he’s through.”
Bryant rubbed a hand over his face. “You can’t go after him. Let me bring him in. Let me do this right.”
With Redding’s money? He’d never see the inside of a jail cell, evidence or not.
“Who said we were going after him?” Eli asked.
Because that would’ve been stupid. Bryant was a good guy, but no way would he be on board for vigilante justice. Which was why he didn’t need to know about it.
Afterward he could come after us if he wanted to. I’d make sure my brothers were safe before…
I glanced at the blackened pavement nearby and felt bile rise to the back of my throat. “I need to get out of here.”
“Levi.”
I hit Bryant like a freight train, my fists tangled in either side of his collar, my face right up in his. “I need. To go.”
Bryant raised his hands out to his sides. “Okay, got it.” He straightened as I released him, and tired sympathy settled over his face. “Just…be careful. And if you change your mind—” He paused, then shook his head. “Just call me.”
I walked away without another word. I appreciated the man—which surprised me, him being a cop and me being what I was—but I couldn’t let him interfere. We never harmed the innocent, that was a rule, but Redding and Chadwick weren’t innocent, and they wouldn’t go down if we left this up to someone else. They’d gotten away with too much already. No, this was our job.
And I was looking forward to it.
Remi and Eli flanked me as we crossed to their SUV, parked a block away. The thought of climbing inside made my skin shrivel, but after a thorough check, we did it anyway. Remi started the car.
We drove for five minutes without a word. I finally broke the silence.
“Contact Luka Sokolov.”
Remi jerked as if he’d been deep in thought. That name certainly broke him out of it. Once a major player in our world, Sokolov had gone legit several years ago. Now he was the best security expert money could buy.
“Why?”
“I want his best and brightest,” I said. “Whatever the price. They’ll be staying with Geneva until this is over. Make sure,” I bit out, “that they’re worthy of her respect. She’s to be protected at all costs and treated as an innocent. Got it?”
Meaning they’d take better care of her than a nanny would, only with the added benefit of plenty of firepower. Sokolov ran a clean operation, or as clean an operation as he could considering the things he dealt with. Cleaner than mine. I shouldn’t trust Geneva to anyone but the best—me and my brothers—but since I had to be elsewhere, this was as close to the best as I could get.
“What else?” Eli asked.
“What have you seen on the surveillance footage since I left the mansion?”
Eli leaned forward, his head between my seat and Remi’s. “Redding made a hasty retreat. He left a skeleton crew behind, but I don’t know where he’s going or why.”
I knew the why. He’d already planned the hit, and he knew I could get into the mansion if I needed to. “He’s gone somewhere with more security. Find it.”
“Will do, bro.”
“We need to talk about Abby,” Remi said quietly.
No, we didn’t. I turned my head to stare out the window, ignoring his words.
“She was our family too, you know,” he said stubbornly.
She was. Is. Even death couldn’t destroy that. “I know.”
“We’ll take care of her,” Remi promised. “Whatever she needs, we’ll take care of it as soon as they release her.”
He meant a burial. For the woman I loved. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him he’d be burying me too. “Okay.” I stuffed down my emotions like garbage in an overflowing trash can and cleared my throat. “Take us to the bunker.”
The bunker wasn’t so much a safe house as it was a weapons repository. We kept supplies there, restocking various hideaways as needed but keeping the bulk of our arsenal in a location we didn’t frequent more than necessary, completely off the grid. The bunker had exactly what we needed right now.
No, not what I needed. What I needed was Abby in my arms, in my bed. In my life. If I couldn’t have that, I’d settle for a war.
Chapter Twenty-Four
We loaded up what we thought we’d need from the bunker and went back to the safe house. Between turns cleaning up and eating, we researched where Redding might’ve gone. I had just wandered into the living room, still running a towel over my wet hair, when Eli called me to him.
“Check it out, bro.”
On his screen was what looked like security camera footage. I leaned over the computer and squinted. “Location?”
“Hacr Technologies.”
Eli had been researching the company since we’d found out about it, exploring the ins and outs, poking holes in the top-notch security. Apparently he’d cracked their camera system. On-screen, a guard post at the front of the complex stood to one side. A black SUV was stopped at the entry—
And guess who sat in the driver’s seat.
Eli pointed to the lowered window on the vehicle. “There’s Rathlin.”
“When was this?”
“A couple hours after your meet and greet at the mansion.” He fast-forwarded the footage, revealing a small caravan of SUVs, all with the windows tinted too dark to see inside, but my gut told me Redding was in one of them. And my gut had plenty of experience in situations like this.
Remi watched from over Eli’s other shoulder. “Our rat ran to the most secure place he could find, didn’t he?”
“Yep.” Eli threw a grim smile
at Remi. “Looks like we’ll get that tour of Hacr sooner rather than later.”
“The security at Hacr is top-notch,” I pointed out. Most teams couldn’t get past it, not without a world-class hacker on their side, which was probably what Redding was counting on. I leveled a stare on Eli.
“Dude, seriously.” He shook his head, reached for his mouse, and proceeded to click through screen after screen of data, codes, camera footage. “I got this.”
I smiled. The reflection I caught in my brother’s eye looked more predator than pleased.
“I knew you’d come in handy sometime,” Remi joked.
“Damn straight.” Eli bumped fists with him.
By morning we had a workable plan, but I decided to hold off for what little cover darkness could provide us. We hit the sack, but when I closed my eyes, all I could see on the backs of my eyelids was the replay of the fireball that had consumed my world mere hours ago. I couldn’t rest but instead lay for hours, the swoosh of my heart louder in my ears with every passing moment.
Bit by bit I replaced the memory of losing Abby with a movie of our plan, going over every step so often I knew each action would be automatic, no hesitation. My revenge played out on the screen of my mind, and it always ended the same way: Redding dead. Chadwick dead. Anyone who stood between me and them, dead.
I wouldn’t stop until the movie became real life.
Two hours after dark we sat in a black van a mile from Hacr’s front entrance.
“Go over it again,” I told Eli.
He sighed like I was doubting his ability—I wasn’t—but went over everything again. “Night staff is limited, and most security personnel is focused on the other buildings at night—where the good stuff is. We’ll reduce the risk of legit personnel being hit if I take security off-line zone by zone.”
“Buildings,” I demanded.
“This one”—he pointed to the map in front of him, at a building near the front of the complex—“is the one we need. Mostly offices, conference rooms, supply areas. Mail. The rest of the buildings are labs and research facilities. This one’s a garage,” he said, pointing again. “Security and logistics here.” Indicating the top floor of the executive office building where a small apartment had been built, he said, “Redding is likely here.
“The most important things in this building are the computers, and those are primarily monitored electronically and with alarms to protect against building intrusion.”
“Redding wouldn’t want his legitimate staff exposed to Rathlin’s men,” Remi said. “There’s no way to pass them off as legitimate hires.”
“Redding has pulled most of his legit security staff to other areas, leaving Rathlin’s men with free rein in the executive building. Probably passing it off as extra protection for some kind of personal threat.”
“He’s not lying,” Remi pointed out.
“No,” I said, “but it won’t help him.” I nodded at Eli’s screen. “How many bodies we looking at?”
He switched to a screen with red dots lit up over the blueprints of the building. “Maybe thirty, forty. Mostly on the top two floors. Scattered otherwise.”
I grunted. “All right. You have the security zones timed to cut out?”
Eli tapped a couple of buttons, and a green bar highlighting the word Activated flashed across the middle of the screen. “Yep.” He closed the lid on his laptop, keyed in a code on a small panel strapped to his wrist, and a miniature version of his screen appeared. “Ready. Let’s lock and load.”
Five minutes later we were headed toward the backside of the compound. It took less than thirty seconds to get the three of us through the fence.
“Thank God there are no dogs,” Remi muttered as we loped through the trees toward the cleared area around the buildings.
“Right. Wouldn’t want to see that lily-white ass of yours again.” Eli chuckled. So did I, remembering the time as teens when a literal junkyard dog had caught the seat of Remi’s pants as he jumped a fence.
Remi flipped us a bird.
Our quiet laughter died down when we reach the clearing. “Eli?” I asked.
Quiet tapping told me he was at work on the next phase of our plan.
“Go.”
Even with the cameras on this side of the compound running recorded footage of the last five minutes, we kept low and quiet as we rushed toward the back entrance of the building we needed. Though we were already on the property, this sprint was like heading for the starting line. Once we hit that door, the fight was truly on. We would encounter resistance, we knew it, but I wasn’t worried for me. My brothers might know what was at stake, even be willing to risk it, but I’d do everything in my power to keep them safe.
We reached the door.
The plan was to incapacitate as many men on the bottom three floors as we could, lessening the risk of being flanked later on, when we least expected it. We started in the basement locker rooms. At the first door I gestured Eli forward, let him do his magic on the electronic keypad. When the door clicked open, I took the left and Remi and Eli took the right.
Hugging the wall, I crept along the farthest row of lockers. Ahead, steam billowed out of the shower area. Slick skin could be hard to get a grip on, but I didn’t need to—I’d brought dart guns. The ketamine injections would hurt, but only for a few seconds. Then it was nighty-night time.
I approached the door.
The sound of a locker door slamming—or maybe a head slamming into a locker door—reached me from the other side of the room, but I ignored it. If there was trouble, my brothers would signal me. As it was, I counted that side of the room taken care of. Instead I focused ahead, where two men shouted to each other over their shower stalls, debating the best locally brewed beer. I shot each man in the neck before they could decide—and didn’t worry about catching them as they fell.
Back in the main room, Remi and Eli met me at the door. “All set?” I asked.
Eli gave me a thumbs-up.
We repeated the routine in the remaining basement rooms. The first floor was mostly empty at this time of night, though the front security guard put up a little fight before the ketamine kicked in. Remi dragged him behind his desk, and we proceeded to the second floor. Same procedure, same results, with only a handful of personnel. The third floor wouldn’t be as easy.
“How’s it looking?” I asked Eli as we crouched in the stairwell on the second floor.
Eli shrugged. “Same as before. Maybe fifteen goons on the next level.”
Remi pulled a flash grenade from his belt. “Shock and awe, bro. Ready?”
Before we could start up the stairs, an upper level door opened. The three of us crouched behind the center half wall and waited, dart guns at the ready.
The door above clanked shut. Damn heavy steel doors. Laughter filtered down the stairwell, followed quickly by the shtck of a lighter and the faint scent of cigarette smoke.
I darted a glance around the wall. No one stood on the next level. They must still be back near the third-floor entry, directly over our heads. Probably relaxing against the wall for a break from prying eyes.
I motioned behind me for Remi and Eli to fade back and keep their eyes and ears open.
“What the fuck was Chadwick thinking?” A hushed snort echoed down the stairwell. I tilted my head, trying to decipher the situation with what clues I could gather.
“He wasn’t thinking,” Man Number Two said in a gravelly voice that spoke of a longtime smoking habit. “His dick was.”
A pause, punctuated by the rustling of clothing and the occasional gusty exhale, came next.
“Like Redding is going to give up his prize to that idiot.”
“Right?” Another exhale. “If he didn’t give a shit, he’d let Rathlin take possession—and we’d be the ones with the prize.”
“Too fucking bad too. I’d do some serious damage to get a piece of that.”
I leaned back to glance at my brothers, a frown conveying my question: what
the fuck were these men talking about? The trust? Why wouldn’t Chadwick expect a piece of that?
Remi shook his head, looking equally puzzled. Eli shrugged.
Deciding it didn’t matter, I turned back around and tensed, ready to storm up the stairs and tag them both with darts as quickly as possible.
“You think that’s what Redding’s after?” Man Number One asked. “I didn’t peg him for the type.”
“Every man’s that type,” the smoker said.
Feeling thoroughly confused, I leaned forward to place one booted foot as carefully as I could onto the first step up.
“I don’t know. Redding is probably too old for his dick to work very often. And he’s definitely not spry enough to avoid what that redhead’s dishing out.”
The faintest scratch of rubber against concrete came from behind me—too light for our friends to hear, but I glanced back sharply. Remi had eased a couple of steps closer, and as I looked, I realized his face had gone pasty white. One hand was up in a wait gesture.
I cocked a brow at him. His gaze darted up the stairs.
“More likely the chick’s got money,” the first man said. “Redding don’t give a shit about kidnapping women for sex; he could have it anytime he wants to pay for it, and cheap too. No, it has something to do with money, I bet my ass on it.”
The smoker grunted. “I’ll take that bet. And maybe when he has what he wants—whatever that is—we’ll get a turn.”
The sound of shuffling—the men getting to their feet—echoed down the stairs, followed by a cigarette butt hitting the back wall above me. The upper door slammed shut, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t. My brain was too busy putting the pieces together, making five out of a two-plus-two equation I knew wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. And yet, when I glanced back at Remi and Eli, their faces reflected my confusion and, God help us, the smallest traces of hope. It was wrong, I knew it was wrong, but something inside me screamed that five was the right answer, no matter what my fucking head said.
“Remi?”
The word was barely a whisper, but there was fear there. Fear when I shouldn’t be afraid. And then Remi nodded, his own eyes seeming to tear up as I stared into them and silently begged for reassurance. “Yeah,” he said.
Assassin's Prey (Assassins Book 3) Page 14
