Ryder
Jacksonville, FL
Early Monday morning
Sick bastards. All of them.
I hated that Jolie in all her goodness and kindness was privy to the evil the world had to offer. I knew the guilt she was experiencing, though I could have told her that Chrissy’s involvement with Angel would have led her to the same end. He’d have used her, then discarded her for experimentation once he was done.
Human experiments? What in the world were Los Caballeros up to? And what did Nikolai and the Russian Mafia have to do with it?
It was clear they were in cahoots in some way, and I had a feeling the missing shipment of guns and drugs that had made its way to Russia was payment of some sort for the Mafia’s involvement. But what?
I dialed Levi, who answered on the first ring.
“Did you find her?”
“Yes, and about twenty-nine others. Chrissy is with us, and the DEA took the others to a shelter and to be debriefed.”
“Good. I’m assuming you have news, then.”
“Yes. Jolie just talked with Chrissy, and it seems she and the other women were supposed to be test subjects of some sort. Human experiments, Levi. What the hell have we stumbled onto?”
Levi let out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. “Did you meet much resistance?”
“Seven guards. All dead. We kept one alive, and I found out some interesting information, but when his guys saw I had him captive, they shot him.”
“And? What did you find out?”
“The truck should be here shortly to get the container. They’ll take it back to Atlanta. There’s a code word for the drivers, to ensure safety.”
“And I’m assuming you got the word?”
I grinned even though Levi couldn’t see me. “Sure did.”
“Excellent. Get Oscar and Cruz. Let’s walk through this.”
I motioned to the guys, who jogged over. Jolie lifted her head, and I shook mine to let her know she was fine where she was. At the moment, Chrissy needed her more than we did. After talking for several minutes, we ended the call, and I strode over to Jolie.
She jumped up the minute she saw me, and, with questions in her gaze, waited patiently for me to fill her in. I knew she deserved for me to lay out all the options she had. It was tempting to give her the option I wanted her to take, which was to stay far away from the bad guys, escort Chrissy to the DEA office, and then fly safely home in the morning. I had a feeling she wouldn’t take that one.
“Oscar and Cruz are going to apprehend the truck coming for the container. It should be here in the next ten minutes. I’m going to follow behind in the Charger.”
“What about me?”
I sighed, pushing my hands through my hair. “You can come with me, or you can escort Chrissy to the DEA.”
She opened her mouth to respond, and I talked right over her. “I know what you’re going to say, but can I just please beg you to do the smart thing this time and go with Chrissy?” Anger sparked in her eyes, and I cursed under my breath at my poor choice of words. “It’s just we don’t know what we’re walking into. I don’t want you hurt.”
“What about Oscar and Cruz?”
“What about them?”
“Do you worry about them the way you worry about me?”
Of course not! I didn’t say that—but didn’t she understand?
I closed the distance between us and brought her up against my chest, holding her there as her body hummed with anger.
“No. I don’t. But I don’t feel for Oscar and Cruz what I feel for you.”
“You just don’t think I’m as trained as them.”
“You’re not.” Hurt flashed in her eyes. “That’s just a fact, Jolie. But that doesn’t mean that you aren’t qualified. You’ve proven to be a valuable operative. I wasn’t insulting you.”
Appearing to be a bit mollified, she wrapped her arms around my neck. “I’m going with you. I’m in this. To the end. What those men did to those women—to Chrissy—I want them to pay.”
I bent my head and kissed her lightly on the lips.
“Okay, then.”
“No arguing?”
“No arguing.”
“Levi told you not to, didn’t he?”
I chuckled. “Yep.”
I released Jolie and dialed our DEA contact to send a car for Chrissy, requesting a female agent. We only had a few short minutes before the truck would be there. Jolie would stay with Chrissy at the Charger until the DEA arrived, while Oscar, Cruz, and I would take out the driver and his partner and commandeer the truck. Jolie had protested, but I’d explained it would be three against two, and I didn’t want to leave Chrissy unattended. She’d reluctantly agreed.
Damn stubborn woman. She was driving me crazy.
I took my place behind the container, while Oscar and Cruz took possession of the bad guys’ AR-15s, slinging them over their shoulders and pretending to guard the container. The lock had been blown to bits, but we were hoping they wouldn’t get a good enough look before we took them out. We’d try to take them down peacefully, tying them up and allowing the DEA to clean up the mess, but we couldn’t leave them free to give us up before we got to Atlanta.
Our hope was we’d drive the truck to the Atlanta meeting point and uncover the plot on the other side. Hopefully, we’d find out what they’d wanted with all these women and what kind of testing they were doing on them. It was like something out of a sci-fi novel.
The rumble of a truck engine drew closer, and I held my position. I heard the squeak of the brakes as it stopped and then the slam of two doors before one of the men called out to Cruz and Oscar in Spanish.
I couldn’t hear the words, and even though I had a functional knowledge of Spanish, it was rusty since I hadn’t used it in a long time.
Finally, I heard the request for the password. It was Oscar’s voice that responded. “Chicha.”
It was a Venezuelan fermented beverage famous in the Andes Mountains. I peeked around the side of the container to find one of the men walking towards it.
“What happened here?” His gaze met Oscar’s with suspicion, and then, as if in slow motion, everyone went for their guns, and I stepped out from behind the container.
In a low voice, I drew their attention away from Oscar and Cruz. “We can do this one of two ways. Peacefully, where you get to live. Or, well, I assume you can guess the other way.”
The two men looked between us and, thankfully, lifted their hands in surrender. Cruz and Oscar moved in to cuff them, and I sent a text to Levi to let him know the men would be trussed-up and waiting on the DEA who hopefully were already en route.
“What’s the passcode for the next stop?”
The two men kept their mouths shut, neither offering up the information.
I kicked the guy nearest me, then leveled my gun at his temple. “The password.”
“Beluga.”
“Like the Russian vodka. Clever.”
The man didn’t respond, just kept his mouth shut. I was sure he was contemplating his chances of living once the Russians and Los Caballeros got word that he’d turned traitor.
When both men were properly restrained, Oscar jumped behind the wheel of the truck and backed it up to the container. After loading it, Cruz joined him, and they drove it out, stopping next to the Charger.
Jolie was there talking with a female DEA agent, and Chrissy was already in the back seat of the nondescript sedan. When she saw us, she ended the call and rushed to get inside the Charger.
“Everything okay?”
“Just peachy.” But there was a hardness to her voice. No sign of the usual enthusiasm and joy. I took her hand in mine and squeezed it lightly.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Funny how you can tell me this isn’t my fault, yet you bear all the responsibility for Derrick’s and Nina’s deaths.”
“That’s different.”
“No, actually. It’s exactly the same. And you know what? You’re right. It’s not my fault Chrissy was taken and beaten and raped. It’s Rubio’s, Vicario’s, and the Dmitrievs’ faults. Not ours. We’re doing our best to serve and protect our country and the people who live here. So, no, it isn’t my fault.”
Everything she said was true. Could I accept that and stop carrying the guilt of Nina’s death? Derrick’s death?
“It’s always going to hurt, you know. Our involvement in how they died. That part won’t go away. But the guilt? I can’t carry that. I’m not strong enough, and eventually it will ruin me.”
Oscar honked the horn of the truck, and I jerked my attention to my rearview mirror. Enough small talk—we had a long drive ahead of us.
We drove for a couple of hours before stopping for some coffee. Jolie insisted on driving, since she’d at least slept some the night before. I finally relented, seeing her side of things. We had no idea what kind of situation we’d be literally driving into. Levi was looking into satellite images of the address we’d been given, but so far I hadn’t heard back from him.
I closed my eyes for a few minutes, only to be awoken by my phone. I glanced at the time and saw I’d been asleep for almost two hours.
“Blake.”
“Were you asleep?”
“Yeah… dozing while Jolie drives.”
“Good. You need the rest. Sorry to wake you. I have the images from that warehouse. It’s not a huge operation, so I’m not sure we’ll find the answers we’re looking for. It appears there are a few cars. I sent Cade over with the drone to do some reconnaissance, and he only sees three cars. There could be more inside some of the buildings, but either way, everything seems pretty quiet tonight.”
“Roger. Thanks, Levi.”
I disconnected the call and relayed the message to Jolie while on the phone with Oscar.
“How do you want to play this, amigo? This is your op.”
“I say we drive right into the belly of the whale. From what the guard said, the driver is supposed to honk twice, and the door to the warehouse will open up. You’ll give the passcode once we’re inside. Jolie and I will be in the container. When they go to open the container, we’ll be ready. From there we secure the area and see what we’re dealing with as well as rescue any possible hostages.”
“That could go south pretty quickly.” It was Cruz’s voice this time.
“Any other ideas?”
“Nope. Just making sure everyone knows the drill. We’ll keep you on speaker phone when we drive in. If things look dicey, we’ll be able to warn you ahead of time. Plus, you’ll be able to hear what’s going on. Let’s just hope we’re not dealing with an ambush.”
I’d thought of that, but I couldn’t see any way Vicario or Dmitriev would know what we were up to.
“Let’s hope not.”
After hanging up with the guys, I looked at Jolie. “What are you thinking? You’ve been awfully quiet.”
“Just taking it all in.”
“You don’t have to do this. You can stay with the car. As a matter of fact, that’s an even better idea. Just be ready to floor it when we come running in.”
“I’m not staying with the car. You need another gun, and, as I’ve proven before, I’m a good shot.”
It wasn’t worth arguing with her, and we’d just arrived at the destination where we’d leave the Charger. Jolie parked on the side of the road, killing the engine.
Oscar jumped out of the truck and opened the container for us to climb inside. I helped Jolie up first, then crawled in after her.
“Now, remember.” I held her hand as Oscar took off again towards the industrial park. “As soon as they see the lock’s been tampered with, they’ll be suspicious. They may fire first and ask questions later. We need to be ready to go as soon as we hear them walk around to the back. Got it?”
“Got it.” She squeezed my hand as if to punctuate her answer with a bit more assurance. I leaned closer and kissed the top of her head.
I wanted to tell her how I felt. What I’d discovered just hours before in that hotel room. That I loved her. That if I could somehow make myself worthy of her, I wanted to spend my life loving her and making her happy. But could I ever be worthy of her?
It was doubtful. Still, something inside of me wanted to try. I wasn’t a coward, so why was I running away from her?
The truck stopped, and Oscar honked the horn twice. Large metal doors creaked open, and the truck slowly moved forward before stopping again.
It was pitch-black in the container, only tiny points of light poking through the joints. I squeezed Jolie’s hand before releasing it and taking out my gun. I felt her movement beside me, and I knew she was doing the same.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, answering Oscar’s call and switching it to mute. The truck’s doors opened and closed.
“Hola, amigo,” I heard Oscar call out to one of the guards. I waited for the reply, hoping I’d be able to hear. I could.
“Password.” The man’s hard voice held no trace of friendliness.
“Beluga.”
There was a short pause. Then the man continued in Spanish. “No problems?”
“None.”
“Good. Let’s see what we have.”
That was our cue to be ready. I tapped Jolie and nudged her to one side of the door, while I took the other. I heard Oscar joking about something vulgar in Spanish and was grateful he’d used the other language. I wasn’t sure how much Jolie understood, although her background check when she’d applied indicated she had a working knowledge of the language.
“What the hell!” the man shouted in Spanish, and I knew he’d discovered the damaged door.
That was our cue.
I swung open the door, ducking and taking a firing position. Jolie did the same as we aimed our guns at the two guards who now had theirs aimed at Oscar’s and Cruz’s foreheads. There were shouts on the other side of the warehouse, and we were all staring at a ticking time bomb.
We had seconds before the rest of the guards would descend. Each of us held our fingers steady on the triggers, waiting, measuring, deciding. The guard on the right looked nervous. Nervous meant trigger-happy.
Sure enough, he made a sound of distress, and I saw his intent before he pulled the trigger. Jolie must have seen it too, because we fired at the same time. Two rounds hit him. One in the forehead, and one in the chest. The sound of the gunfire startled the other guy, but Oscar and Cruz took him out before he could get a shot off.
The four of us took positions around the truck, aiming and firing at the remaining men. Levi had been correct in his assumption. There were only about six more guards other than the two who had met the truck. The fight was over in minutes, the echoes of gunfire fading in the quiet room.
“See what you can find.”
I finally took in the room and saw it was filled with cages around the perimeter and some set up in the middle as well. Each one had a bucket on the floor and nothing else. There had to be fifty cages in all.
“It’s a holding tank.”
Jolie nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking. This isn’t the final destination.”
“Dammit! What are they doing?” If they weren’t trafficking the women—although it almost seemed as if that had been their first intention—what did they want with them?
“Nothing good.”
We searched the offices, but besides some vague notes of how much water to give each prisoner each day to keep them alive, there wasn’t anything else to go on. As far as we could see, it was a dead end.
Disappointed that we hadn’t found more, we all walked in silence back to the Charger. We’d parked about a mile away, and the night was chilly. Spring would arrive in a couple of months, and the mild Atlanta temperatures were a welcome reprieve from the suffocating humidity we’d face in a short time.
No one said anything on the way back to HQ. We were all disturbed by the night’s experiences. Women captured and treated like animals. Human experimentation with apparently horrible outcomes, if Igor’s words were to be trusted. You’ll beg for death when it comes.
What horror did those women escape? And how many others had already experienced it and had felt the blessed relief of death?
Levi met us at the door with a handshake and a pat on the back. When he saw Jolie, he scooped her up into a big hug. I’d be jealous, except I knew he saw her as a sister. All the guys did.
She was the hub, the sun, and we all revolved around her.
But for me, she was quite literally the center of my life. My reason for breathing. My joy, my soul, my love. Without her the world was a dark and desolate place.
It was crazy to just now be grasping the depth of my feelings and the futility of fighting them. I was destined to give in, because without her my life meant nothing.
The guys went on ahead, and Jolie walked beside me. She slipped her hand into mine, and I held on to that lifeline.
When we were alone, I spun her around and caught her in my arms. As if the dam broke, Jolie let loose with a sob, burying her face into my neck, curling her tiny fists into my shirt and holding on tight.
I let her cry, soothing her with quiet words, stroking her hair, kissing the top of her head. When she was done, she blinked up at me, eyes swollen and red from weeping. Then she leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. It was the softest, most tender kiss I’d ever experienced.
I kissed her back, letting her know she was not alone. I was there for her. I would always be there for her. Since I wasn’t ready to say the words, I showed her with my lips and hands that I was hers and hers alone.
There was no frantic pace, no hurried rush, just the two of us loving each other the best we could. Jolie pulled away, her hand held out in invitation.
“We need sleep.”
I nodded. We did.
“I don’t want to sleep alone.”
“Me neither.”
“Stay with me?” The vulnerability in her voice as she asked that question nearly undid me.
“Always.” I kissed her forehead, then stepped back. “I need to check on a couple of things. I’ll be in your room shortly.”
“Okay.” She let go, then turned back suddenly, kissing me with more passion this time, more urgency. As if all we’d faced tonight had suddenly hit her. We could have lost each other. We could have been separated before we’d even acknowledged how we felt.
And I made up my mind. I would tell Jolie how I felt about her. I’d take the risk.
“Ten minutes.”
Jolie nodded, and then walked to the door to the dorms, scanning her palm and entering her password.
I went to my office. I needed to check my emails, secure messages, and a couple of the chat sites I watched on the Dark Web. As much as I wanted to rest with Jolie, snuggle up next to her and have her fall asleep in my arms, I needed to make sure we were on top of the latest information.
I checked the sites first and found no trace of our hijack that night. That was good. It wouldn’t take long, though, for the news to break. Whether or not I’d see notice of it was another story entirely.
Next, I checked my normal email. There wasn’t much there. Although I did find an email from my father. I opened it, dreading the news of his divorce, and was surprised to find an invite to join them in Vegas for a few days. He wanted to spend some time with me. And he knew he had a lot to make up for. Rebekah, his new wife, had helped him to see how much he’d failed me. He wanted to make things right.
Well, that was a whole bunch of past I wasn’t up to that night, so I decided to wait and answer that email when I’d had more than a couple of hours’ sleep in a forty-eight-hour period.
I moved on to the fake account I’d set up for Sasha Petrov—and froze. In the subject box was the word URGENT. It was from Nikolai Dmitriev.
I opened the email to find these words:
Meet me at The Tsar’s Sombrero. Tonight at 11 p.m. Come alone.