Her Devil's Kiss

by Linzi Basset

  “Have you got security detail on everyone’s family and loved ones? You know that’s where they’ll start.”

  “Yes, Lance arranged it before the siege already. As a precaution, everyone has been warned to be alert wherever they go. The Syndicate won’t hesitate to hit in a public place and that’s my biggest worry.”

  “We can only do the best we can, mate, and hope for the best.” Bruce stared speculatively at Emily Sanchez. Although a little frayed at the edges at the moment, she had a regal posture, confident and alert. “Do you think she knows anything? Somehow, I don't think the leaders of the Sixth Order would lower their status to her level.”

  “I agree, but it's worth a shot. Maybe one of her handlers mentioned something they weren't supposed to.” Rhone turned toward the door. “Let's get this over with.”

  The door buzzed open after his iris verification unlocked it using the newly installed scanner unit. Emily surprised them by not immediately railing and making demands to be released. She quietly stared at them as they approached.

  “Morning, Mrs. Sanchez. Do you know why you’re here?”

  “I know why I was arrested, yes, but why I’m not in an MPD or the FBI interrogation room, I don’t.” She glared at them. “Who the fuck are you?”

  Rhone stood in front of her with his hands pushed into his pockets, his legs spread wide. Bruce leaned negligently against the wall, watching her intently.

  “Who we are doesn’t concern you. What does is the information we need from you.”

  “You’ll get jack shit from me.” She snorted and spat at Rhone. His gaze followed the spittle until it splattered on the cement floor between them.

  “No? Or is it that you’re too much of a small fish in a big pond and actually know nothing of value?” he retaliated.

  She visibly simmered at the insolent remark. Her shoulders straightened and her chin tilted a tad higher. “You’d be surprised what men tattle about when they get some female attention,” she smirked.

  “I suppose that depends on your definition of what a real man is.” Rhone’s voice deepened. “In case you’re wondering, we closed your drug lab at the shelter.”

  Her eyes widened, but she didn’t respond.

  “Furthermore, all your reliable men flapped their lips, which helped us to find all the stash houses you distribute the drugs to.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Rhone chuckled. “Of course you don’t, but I do know that the Syndicate who funds the entire drug operation you were entrusted with won't be happy that you couldn’t keep it secure.”

  “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Come now, Emily. We’re not idiots. We have footage and inside information. You won’t walk away from this. You’re going to rot in jail … that is, if the Syndicate allows you to live once incarcerated.”

  “I’m telling you, I—”

  “I’ve been around syndicates, cartels, and mobsters throughout my career, Emily. Do you know how they retaliate?”

  Emily turned pale. She shook her head. “They have no reason to. Not against me. I did nothing wrong.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. Let me tell you how it’s going to go. Do you think they’ll be happy to see you in jail, or with your death after losing millions in cash and even more in product? Ah, no, my dear, Mrs. Sanchez, they’re going to hit you where it hurts. Wanna take a guess where they’ll start?”

  “No! Oh god. You have to let me go. I need to get my children to safety. Please!”

  She started to struggle. Rhone didn’t move, nor did he feel any empathy for the fear that surged in her eyes.

  “Your children's safety. Hm, yes. Did you think of that even once when you started that drug lab? Or of the thousands of young children who die on the streets every day from the drugs you distribute? Do they know, Emily? That you’re a drug pusher?”

  She shook her head with tears now rolling down her cheeks. She was fast losing her composure.

  “Wanna take a guess how they’ll die?”

  Her head slumped forward in defeat. “If I tell you what I know, I need to know that my children will be safe.”

  “We’re keeping them under lock and key … for the moment. If what you tell us is verified, we’ll make sure they’re placed in a protective custody program.”

  Emily wilted visibly. She glanced between them. “Very well. What do you want to know?”

  “Everything you can tell us. We already know Hank Shutto and William Seely were your contacts. What else?”

  “I don’t know if anything I tell you is true, but it’s things they’ve mentioned in passing or discussed when they didn’t know I was listening.”

  “Go on.”

  “The Sixth Order is run by three top leaders. Seely is their operation’s guy and Shutto his right hand. They were responsible for overseeing everything and ensuring its smooth operation. There were a couple before him, but as far as I know, they’re … dead,” she stammered as realization of her dire situation once again surfaced. She looked at Rhone. “My hands are numb. Please untie me.”

  Rhone walked closer and quickly cut loose the tie backs from her wrist but left her feet tied. He picked up a bottle of water on the table against the wall and handed it to her. She drank thirstily.

  “Thank you.”

  “Let’s start with the suppliers of raw material for the drugs you manufacture,” Rhone prodded.

  “Most of my products are supplied by Xenia Pharmaceuticals. They receive fifteen percent of all the proceeds.”

  “How do they receive it?”

  “I receive various instructions every week. Sometimes it’s paying some of their suppliers in cash. Sometimes I have to deposit the money but always in small quantities.”

  “Who else?”

  “The only other one is Falcon Freight. They supply the means to distribute the drugs to various stash houses all over the States. I’m not involved with how and what they get paid for the service, though.”

  “But they’re aware what they’re transporting?”

  “Yes. It’s always the same two trucks with the same drivers that collect. We supply the loads on pallets and from there they do whatever is needed.”

  She frowned as she searched her mind for information. “I heard the names Dexter Powell and Mr. Zee from a conversation they had a couple of weeks ago. It seems Mr. Zee is the one feared by all of them and I assume the top dog. I got the impression that neither Dexter or Mr. Zee is local—from DC, I mean. The Sixth Order operation’s hub is in Manhattan, but they’re concentrating on DC at the moment to strengthen their status in the illegal drug industry here.” She took another sip of water. “Seely had a conversation once on his cell phone, which I overheard. It sounded like he was double-crossing the Sixth Order.”

  “How?”

  “Well, he asked the person …” She looked between them. “He said something like, how much longer, Don? They don’t trust me, I can feel it. If you’re going to act against the Order, it had better be soon or I’m gonna end up as shark bait.”

  Rhone glanced at Bruce. A suspicion began to take root in their minds.

  “I haven’t seen him since then.” She frowned. “Shutto hasn’t been around for weeks either.

  “Who have you been dealing with then?”

  “No one in person. I’ve just been receiving instructions by phone from a man named Gun. You can check my phone and call logs. The number should be in there.”

  “Do you make calls to him as well?”

  “Yes. I have to report on the weekly sales every Monday morning at eleven.”

  “Good. We confiscated your phone and will verify your information.” Rhone crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you know of any other drug labs?”

  Her eyelids flickered but she shook her head.

  “You either tell us everything you know or we’ll be here for a long time to come, Emily.”

  She sighed. “If anyone knows I talked, I won’
t make it to jail. I’ll be dead long before then.”

  “Not if we can help it.”

  “I know of four. One in Dallas, a second in Chicago, a third in New York City, and a fourth one in Los Angeles.”

  “Jesus,” Bruce growled. “How the hell are they managing to hide them so well?”

  “They’re clever. A homeless shelter is a perfect front. No one thinks anything of people moving in and out or regular deliveries being made.”

  “Do you know which shelters?”

  Emily hesitated but relented with another sigh. “I know where two of them are. Franklin Boulevard in Chicago and Pleasant Avenue in Los Angeles. I have no idea about the other two.” She looked at Rhone. “That’s all I can tell you.”

  Rhone looked at Bruce who had been studying her all the time. He nodded.

  “Very well. There is a way we can help you, Emily.”

  “How? The only way I’ll survive this is if I stay out of jail. You caught me in possession of millions of dollars’ worth of drugs. I know I’m a goner.”

  “Not if you turn state witness. If you’re willing to testify against Shutto, Seely, and the two companies, Xenia and Falcon, we’ll ensure that you and your family are placed in a witness protection program.”

  “Does that mean I won’t go to jail at all?”

  “Yes, but you will be under constant surveillance to ensure you don’t disappear. We need your testimony, Emily, and I’ll make sure the Sixth Order can’t find you, but if you run, you’ll go to jail, or worse.”

  “I won’t. My kids … they only have me. Their dad passed away ten years ago and the struggle to survive after that … I suppose I was an easy target. They knew I would do anything to provide for my kids.”

  “You agree then?”

  “Yes. I’ll turn state witness.”

  “Good. Someone will be around to take you to a more comfortable accommodation, but remember, Emily, we will verify everything you just said.”

  “I fucked up, but I will never put my kids lives in danger, not willingly, and I’m sure the Sixth Order already knows I’ve been caught. They’ll be looking for me. I’m not a fool. I need your protection, and I won’t do anything to jeopardize that.”

  Rhone and Bruce walked out and went to stand at the window, watching her.

  “She’s telling the truth.”

  “You don’t think she’ll run?”

  “No. The fear for her kids is real and deeply set. She won’t put them at risk.”

  “Good. I’ll speak to Gerhard Anderson from the U.S. Marshals Services to start setting up a witness protection asap. She’ll remain here until after she makes that call tomorrow to Gun.”

  “We need to get to those two drug labs before they move it. They might be wary and close them down just in case.”

  “You’re right. I’ll chat with Alex on the way home. He can arrange for raids today. If we can shut those two down, we’re closer than ever to uncover just who the fuck Powell and Mr. Zee are.”

  “Don’t forget about the third one, Gun. My gut tells me he’s the third leader.” Bruce considered what Rhone had said. “You’re hoping they’ll drop the ball and expose themselves?”

  “They must be livid at their losses. First, we cut their hands by closing the operation hub and then this raid. If we can get two more shut down and hit all the stash houses in those areas, you can fucking bet they’ll come out in the open.”

  “Right. You call Alex and I’ll speak to Max. Now that we know they’re targeting shelters to use as labs, maybe they can find where the other two are situated.”

  “Tell them it’s priority, Bruce. They’ll have to pull fast and quick on this one.”

  “I’ll stick around and help out where I can. I’ll start a search on Gun, Dexter Powell, and Mr. Zee.” He shrugged at Rhone’s sideward glance. “I might just as well help, otherwise I’ll be saddled with my own company the entire Sunday. Besides, the sooner we find out who those fuckers really are, the better.”

  “You know you’re welcome to pop in for a visit at my house whenever, mate.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  A sense of urgency to establish if Jack was still alive, urged Alex to change his mind about joining Rhone and Bruce for the interrogation of Emily Sanchez. Armed with the original blueprints of the house before Jack had made renovations, he arrived at the site. He couldn’t suppress the shudder at the destruction that met his eyes. The beautiful home was crippled, the left and front sides of the house completely destroyed.

  “How the fuck we survived was nothing short of a miracle,” he muttered as he exited the car.

  The air still tasted of burnt charcoal. He walked around the debris aimlessly for a while, revisiting the horror when he’d heard Jack’s urgent shout to fall back.

  “Be alert, mates, just in case the security detail missed anything.”

  “We’ve got your ten, Jack,” Lance said as they fell into a tactical formation the moment they entered the silent house, weapons drawn.

  “Faster. I’ve cut the time too short. We need to get past the front door. Hustle!” Jack sped up and ran around the staircase, heading toward his study.

  Alex heard his indrawn breath. He caught Lance to stop him just as Jack’s hoarse voice echoed back at them, “Fall back!”

  For a brief second, Alex felt disconnected from everything but the ever-present sound of his drumming heart. His head spun, his lungs were bursting as his body screamed for more as adrenaline pumped through him like the punch of a hard fist and spurred him to act. It had been pure instinct, his years as a Navy SEAL still ingrained inside his mind.

  “Down!” he screamed as a spark that ignited at the top of the arch into the great room caught his eye … right where Jack was. He tackled Lance to the ground and skidded toward the back of the staircase.

  “Cover your eyes and ears,” he shouted and flung himself over Lance as the stereoscopic reality of color and shadow was decimated in a blaze of blinding light. They tucked their bodies into the shape of a ball just as a blast wave of expanding, superheated air struck, seconds before the explosion deafened him. Then everything went black.

  He shuddered and pushed the dark memory to the back of his mind. After reading the MPD’s forensic report on their findings of the explosion, it kept bothering him that nowhere did they make any mention of the underground tunnel Jack had told them about—the one he’d intended to use to disappear.

  “Although I doubt he could’ve made it. He was right there where I saw the ignition flash before the explosion ripped everything apart.”

  Alex knew it was a long shot but he had to make sure there had been a chance Jack had made it … until then, he, like Jordan, wouldn’t accept his death.

  The sound of a car drew his attention. He grimaced as he watched Lance alight from his truck and carefully make his way toward him. The cast had been removed, but Ethan had told him to take it easy.

  “You read the report, I assume?” Alex said by way of greeting.

  “Obviously, we both drew the same conclusion, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” Lance retorted. He glanced around. A visible shudder wracked his body. “Fuck, I get the chills just standing here. We should’ve been dead, Alex. How the fuck are we both still standing here?”

  “I don’t know, mate, but I sure as hell won’t scoff at the possibility of miracles ever again.”

  Lance dragged in a deep breath. “So, where do we start?”

  Alex lifted the roll-up house plans. “I pulled the blueprints of the original house. Luckily for us, the underground tunnel had been added as an addition years later, so there’s a detailed sketch separate from the actual house.” He started walking to what was left of the staircase. “We know one of the entrances is in the study, the one Jack told us about. But if we can’t find it under all this debris, there’s another one, at the back of the house.”

  “Why don’t we just start there?”

  Alex spread open the blueprint on top of a destroyed
counter, charred black and wobbly. He pointed at a mark on the plans.

  “Because it looks like that one runs parallel with the one below the study and they’re not connected. But it’s an option to dig through it to get there.”

  “Which neither one of us have the capability of doing. Not in the state we’re in.”

  “Agreed. That’s why I want to check this one first before we speak to the rest of the team.” He looked around. The back and one side wall of the study was still intact. He walked to the corner. “Let’s use this as our guide. Based on the print, the entrance hatch was below Jack’s desk.”

  They both glanced around to judge the position. “Not so easy with everything but these two walls remaining,” Lance muttered. He pointed at a steel container that had ended up on the floor. “If I’m not mistaken that marks the spot.”

  Alex quickly kicked away the rubbish scattering the surface. He found a large piece of wood, probably a piece from the desk, to sweep the floor clean.

  “Got it!” Alex said. Excitement coursed through him as he found the steel handle and yanked on it. It didn’t move. “Fuck, it must’ve melted shut from the heat of the explosion, which is probably why they didn’t see it. It just looks like a crack in the floor.”

  “Yes, but do you know what this means?” Lance looked around. “There’s an entire crater on that side of the house but not even a dent in the floor here.”

  “He turned it into a bomb shelter. Excellent Jack, you clever bastard!” Alex glanced at Lance. “It can only mean one thing, mate. If he managed to get here before the blast wave of the explosion hit him—”

  “He might still be alive.”

  “We need to be sure. We have to get this latch open.” Alex pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’m going to get Rhone on the horn. He and the rest of the team should join us here. It’s time they hear Jack’s theory.”

  Rhone answered on the second ring. “Alex? I expected you at the interrogation this morning.”