part0092

Savage couldn’t risk saying any more. The people in the house would be waiting for their van to pull up outside before they brought the hostages out to keep the time they were exposed and when people could see them at an absolute minimum. He assumed, of course, that these were professionals brought in for a large amount of money. That was the hope, anyway. Professionals would keep their fingers clear of their triggers when things went wrong. The large payday meant they would think twice about simply cutting their losses and killing the victims in order to escape.

He had to hope that—no, he needed to. Otherwise, he would have to charge the house and risk losing people he wasn’t willing to lose.

This was the moment when he had to stay calm, he reminded himself. He had to remain focused on what he was doing there and to do that, he needed to stay calm. It was not the moment to do anything stupid. He sucked in a deep breath and closed his eyes. Sweat trickled down his spine and from his grip on the weapon. He dragged in more deep breaths as he fought the same panic he remembered from when the news about his family first came to him. His heart hammered in his chest and his ears rang. The impending panic attack threatened to usurp the control of the situation and leave him helpless. He needed to stay in control.

“Come on, Savage,” he whispered roughly and managed to hold the urge to barrel into the house at bay. “Stay focused. This is exactly like any other job. Remember that time in Bogota? It’s exactly like that. No, it’s better than that. Easier than that too. Keep your mind on the prize—no, bad idea. Keep your eyes on the target. That is what’s important. Kill these motherfuckers. Kill them all, and everyone else walks away alive. Stay on target.”

Anja didn’t comment on the fact that he was talking to himself, and for that, he was grateful. He knew he barely held on by a thread. There was no telling if her customary teasing and ribbing would have the unforeseen effect of sending him into a spiral that would end up with too many people dead. Maybe him and probably Andy too, now that he thought about it. He knew what he was capable of, and he didn’t want to push himself to that edge.

What was amazing was that Anja didn’t want to push him to that edge either.

“Where the fuck is the van?” a voice demanded from inside, very clearly and without an American accent.

“That asshole is late. I told you we should have used—” The second comment was immediately cut off by what might have been a snort of derision.

“Your friend? Right. Like he’s fucking Mr. Dependable.”

He couldn’t place an exact location in the house, and they all had different accents. One sounded vaguely European, and another had a tell-tale Afrikaans twang. The west coast of the US was enough of a melting pot that people tended to lose their accents there over time, which gave them the kind of accents anyone could mark down as American but nothing more specific. The fact that these men still had theirs was an indicator that they were new to the scene.

See? Keep thinking like that and you won’t have to think about how one of these motherfuckers has a weapon pressed against your daughter’s head.

“Get out there and see what the problem is,” the first man shouted, the apparent leader of the group.

“Which one of us?” the third asked.

“We’re on the fucking job. That means no fucking names, dumbass,” the leader pointed out. “You! The one I’m pointing my fucking gun at, that’s who. Get outside and see what’s holding the fucking van up.”

Savage had to thank his lucky stars that they didn’t use any comms. Of course, the sheer number of Wi-Fi spots in an area like this would make it impossible to hold a line with anything that wasn’t military grade.

He tightened his grip on his pistol and withdrew deeper into the shadows. It wasn’t difficult to find enough places to obscure him. The driveway would usually be awash with lights from the kitchen and he could make out dedicated lighting from the garage to light the driveway when needed. But with all the lights cut, there were more than enough darkened corners to hide in and he was able to remain low and away from the door when one of the men stepped outside.

Shadows worked both ways, though. Only basic shapes were visible as the operative remained as still as he could manage. He barely even dared to breathe while he watched the man step out into the subdued lighting from the streetlamps, the glow insufficient to highlight any details. The kidnapper wore a ski mask too, with black clothes and combat boots, judging by the heavy footfalls as he crossed the driveway. He carried a pistol in his hands, and the silhouette outlined the elongated barrel that signified a suppressor. The make and model were, of course, hidden in the darkness.

While he searched the street from halfway down the driveway, Savage remained in place, tense and focused. He sucked in a slow, noiseless breath and remained utterly motionless.

The man looked around but didn’t move far enough along the driveway to see what had happened to the van. If he did, Savage would have to kill him and hope he could do it quietly enough that he wouldn’t draw more of the attackers out of the house.

There was no need, fortunately. The man cursed softly and returned inside.

“It’s not there,” the scout declared unhappily. The operative used the cover of the shadows to move cautiously closer to the door.

“We can’t stay here,” the second voice said. “We should simply kill them and get out of here. Cut our losses.”

“No one will touch them,” the leader commanded harshly. “None of you idiots will hurt a hair on their heads. You read the contract. If any of them is hurt, none of us get paid and there will be serious pain for anyone involved. They want these…people alive and unharmed. Let’s get them out of here. Maybe we’ll take the family car to the drop off point instead.”

Savage sucked in a deep breath as a surge of hope entered his body. He pressed himself tighter against the hedge to his back. Someone was being smart—get moving, stay out of sight, and use the family car.

He could hear the sound of movement from inside, soft cries from Abby, and a curse from Jules.

“Next time you touch her, I’ll kill you myself,” he heard her familiar voice say.

“Do what they say, Jules, please,” Andy pleaded. “Nothing will happen to us, I promise.”

The man clearly had his thinking cap on. He knew Savage was around and probably realized that he was the reason why things hadn’t gone smoothly or according to plan.

Dammit. He still wanted to hate the bastard but, as always, the emotion was lost in the fact that he actually liked him on some level.

“Keep moving,” the leader snapped. “You, dad-guy. I want the keys to the SUV outside.”

The jangling indicated that the keys changed hands. The door opened and Abby was the first one out, shoved through although she kept her balance smoothly. She tried to run but was quickly caught by the man who emerged first.

Jules came out next, a firm hand on her shoulder as a second attacker moved through behind her. Andy was the last one with another man directly behind him and a pistol pressed into his back.

Savage had an odd moment of clarity. He could step in and raise the alarm. Or he could save the family, pull his mask off, and let them see who he was. He could win his family back, exactly like in the movies

The moment passed as quickly as it had come. He didn’t like that it had even occurred to him. Doing anything like that would simply put his family in a different kind of danger, and that was the line he would never cross.

He was still a monster but not the kind who would give his own daughter trauma that would last a lifetime.

The group moved past him and he acted smoothly to snake his hand out and yank the hand that held the weapon away from Andy. His first instinct was to aim it at one of the other attackers and make the man pull the trigger, but in this kind of darkness, there was no telling who would be caught if he missed.

Instead, he pressed the barrel of his pistol to the man’s head and the kidnapper’s weapon fired harmlessly into the ground with the tell-tale cough and snap of a suppressed weapon. He still couldn’t tell what make it was.

It really didn’t matter now, he decided and pulled the trigger. He both felt and heard the whoosh of the needle as it exited the barrel. A splatter of blood soaked through his mask as he hauled the man aside and shoved Andy out of the way when the other two men turned to see what was happening. He raised his weapon and a sudden calm infused his body. The man who held Abby was the first to die. Savage brought the pistol to bear and pulled the trigger twice. The comfortable non-kick of the weapon tapped his hand. His target stumbled and his weapon fell from already lifeless fingers before the body toppled in slow motion.

The third man, clearly the brains of the operation, saw what was happening and immediately avoided the first shot in his direction. He tried to circle Jules and use her as a meat shield and ducked his head continuously to create a difficult target in these conditions. The operative lowered his expectations as well as his aim.

The kidnapper screamed as a pair of needles drilled through his knee. He lost his balance and landed with a thud. His hand flailed at his pistol which spun from his grip and skidded away across the driveway.

Savage wanted to say something badass at this point. Jules grabbed Abby and dragged her to where Andy was still on the ground.

You wanted to hurt my daughter, you son of a bitch? If you want to go for the pup, you’d better make sure the hound is put down first. Asshole.

But he couldn’t. The fact that he wore a mask was the only reason why he hadn’t been made as a dead man. No words were allowed, only actions.

The man began to crawl to where his gun lay. Savage raised his weapon again and punched two needles casually through his forearm, then one through his hand. He uttered another piercing scream, barely human anymore. Blood splattered across the driveway. Jules would have covered Abby’s eyes and maybe her ears too.

It was best to bring an end to this. Still, he couldn’t resist delivering a round into the man’s other knee before he finally put him out his misery and killed him with a double tap to the head. The kidnapper sagged and lay still.

He’d needed this, he realized. There was nothing quite like being able to blow off steam at the expense of people who really, really deserved it.

In the silence that followed, he took a moment to collect himself. He dragged in a deep breath and checked the strip of needles he still had available. There were more than enough, exactly as he’d suspected.

His gaze drifted to the family he had saved and possibly traumatized and studied the three of them. Abby was all right. Her mother had covered her eyes and ears as Savage had suspected. Jules looked okay as well. Her bright red hair was a mess, though, and a few tears were visible, reflected in the streetlight. She tried to be brave, but she was as terrified as Abby was.

Andy looked rather terrified too. He knew the thoughts that ran through the mind of the masked man in front of him, the desire to pull the mask off and show his family that he was still alive. The lawyer’s expression stiffened as if he could envision the scene—differences set aside, a passionate kiss, and a happy ending with the little girl reunited with her real daddy again. Savage could see it in his eyes. Andy was afraid for his family but he was also afraid of losing them.

He didn’t need to worry about it. The man had always been a better father and husband to them, anyway.

“Is everyone all right?” he asked as he scanned each one again but directed the question to Andy. He managed to mask his voice in a low, rough cadence.

The lawyer nodded and drew his family into a warm embrace. He nodded again, this time in thanks.

“Call the cops,” the operative rasped. The crashed van outside would bring the police there anyway, but if they registered a call of their own, it would reinforce that they had nothing to hide from all this. “Get the girl inside. She doesn’t need to see what happened out here.”

Andy caught and held his gaze for a moment and the two men shared a silent agreement before he and Jules pulled Abby into the house again. He looked back one last time to where their rescuer waited in the driveway.

“Thanks,” he whispered. Savage couldn’t do anything other than nod. He needed to get out of there. People had begun to stir, wondering what the commotion was about, and they would call the police if the Devers didn’t. He needed to get clear. There was no reason for him to get involved with the police.

When he crossed the street, he noticed the van was gone. He had no idea who had been in it, but apparently, he hadn’t killed at least one of the members of the kidnapping team and they’d managed to get away. Or maybe there were more than one. Anja would have to help him track the motherfuckers down. Maybe he could handle them with a little more dedication without having to worry about police or trauma to what was once his family.

Savage snuck through the houses across the street again and avoided the lights that clicked on all around him to slip through the hedge. He moved hastily and earned himself a few scratches from the shrubbery, but he didn’t have time to waste. His heart thudded but he reached the abandoned house without incident. His refuge was the only one that didn’t have people talking about calling the police.

He slipped inside, rushed to the room where he’d watched the Devers’ house for most of the afternoon, and packed his weapons. His movements were quick but precise. The adrenaline pumped through his veins and did an excellent job to make him faster and sharper than usual but lacked the jittery edge that would have caused mistakes on his part. He went through the motions almost on autopilot as he collected his things and made sure there was nothing left behind that would provide a clue to his presence in the room.

A few minutes later, he eased out the front door and closed it behind him, then locked it quickly. The ruined lockbox still lay inside the house as there was still someone who needed to make a living from selling this place. He did feel a little guilty about having to break into the house but made sure he left the key where it could be easily found.

Not for the first time that day, he thanked his lucky stars that Anderson had rented an electric car for him. He pulled quietly out of the driveway and accelerated away, careful to keep to the speed limit and not arouse any attention, and yanked the mask up and off his face hastily as he went. Very few things in the world were quite as suspicious as a man driving away from a crime scene at high speed while still wearing a mask and gloves. He couldn’t forget the damned gloves.

Anja had a habit of knowing when to keep quiet and knowing when he was in danger and needed to stay focused. She also seemed to know when he was out of said danger.

“I have a question, Savage,” she asked when he finally left the suburban area and joined the more heavily trafficked roads. The wail of sirens—what sounded like dozens of them—approached rapidly.

“Fire away, Control,” Savage said and eased his gloves off while he kept the car moving.

“Well, I know we’ve played the gang violence excuse to cover for you upping the number of people killed by firearms within the borders of the United States,” she stated. “But the men you killed were professionals and are probably known to the cops who will go there to bag and tag the bodies as we speak. You also killed them in an upscale residential neighborhood on the doorstep of a kindly lawyer and his lovely wife and adopted daughter. Considering all that and also that the cops will find needles instead of bullets in the bodies, how do you think they will manage to write this shit off as random gang violence?”

He had actually wondered the same thing but there had been no time to clean up. There had been even less time to guide the investigation away from him and Pegasus. The needles shattered on impact so they wouldn’t be identified completely, but they were trademarked by Pegasus. If anyone happened to know a thing or two about weapons development, they might be able to put two and two together.

Luckily, if it ever came to that, Pegasus had notified numerous officials across the country about missing company material in their development labs. Monroe, Anderson, and now Coleman too could simply blame it on stolen company property and even demand that the needles in question be returned to them under some kind of legal claim to stolen property once they were no longer relevant to the investigation. He wasn’t sure about the actual details, but he felt fairly certain Monroe would figure it out.

But it didn’t matter right now. What did matter was that he would leave the area as quickly and as subtly as he could, which meant his number one priority at this point was not to get caught.

“I don’t know,” Savage said because he doubted even Anderson, with all his contacts, could float the gang violence vote this time. He checked his rearview mirror to confirm that the flashing lights indicative of the police arriving in force definitely headed in the opposite direction. “I’m sure they’ll find a way.”