Hard to Kill: a Hard Targets novel Page 5

  Sliding to a stop at an intersection, she glanced first in one direction then the other. Crap. Evan stood not twenty feet away to the right. Immediately, she went left. But she could have sworn she didn't hear pounding feet behind her.

  Shocked. Stunned. Curious. Temporary bout of insanity? Or was he giving her a head start just for shits and giggles? Dare she think he was offering a get-out-of-jail-free card?

  She couldn't say anything for sure. Pushing down both the fear and the questions, she continued to put as much space as she could between her and the enemy.

  Her momentum came to an abrupt halt when someone yanked her hair from behind. Instinct had her bringing her hand back to relieve the pressure. Before she had a chance to do anything to counter the attack, she felt the prick in her arm, and everything else was a blur.

  * * *

  "Where did you disappear to?" Marco screeched at Evan.

  "I secured a car to see if I could find them." Evan wasn't lying about getting a car, but had lied about his whereabouts. He'd figured they'd head toward the border, and figured he'd missed them when he checked with the police in Switzerland and found they were in the process of bringing Liz to the American Embassy. He couldn't help but wonder why Grace hadn't gone with. Why would she risk getting caught? The curious part was the phone number Liz kept repeating to the officers. The police hadn't done a follow-up on it, but he intended to as soon as possible.

  "Where is Liz? And what did you do with Arte's body?"

  Evan shrugged. "Don't know where Liz is. But I dumped Arte in the woods for the time being."

  Marco shook his head and pointed to a drugged-out Grace lying on the pavement. "Damn fool woman. Why did she come back? Did she think she'd be able to take me down somehow?" He bit off a chuckle. "Carry her to the car you secured and I'll take her home. Have my car cleaned up, then bring it home." He patted Evan on the back after he laid her on the back seat. "Loose ends, Evan. Whoever she is, she can be dangerous in the wrong hands. She broke Arte's neck. How did she know how to do that?"

  "Maybe she's not who she claims to be." Evan figured that was the understatement of the century. The woman had skills. From where was the only question circling his brain.

  "I'll get her to tell me the truth." He got in the driver's-side door. "Throw Arte's body into the trunk. We don't want some hiker stumbling over his body in the woods."

  Twenty minutes later Kane was on his way back to Marco's. He swore, shaking off his Evan persona in a heartbeat. Undercover work sucked, but never more so than today. He had ingratiated himself into the organization over the last six months as he tried to unravel the inner workings of a very complex financial operation in order to follow the money to the top. When Marco asked him to come to his house to see what he did on an everyday basis, he'd been stoked thinking he'd be able to tap into the computer network and get the name and address of the man in charge. But he'd been there a week without even coming close to Marco's stash of transaction details.

  As for ingratiating himself into the sex trade, he thought he'd been prepared. But he'd been wrong.

  When he was trailing the money, he could do that objectively, but seeing the women they'd exploited up close and personal and watching them get auctioned off was a whole other thing. That's where he and Nellis, his boss and the SSA, supervisor special agent in charge of this operation, were going to have to figure something out. He couldn't sit around powerless while young women were being brought in as sex slaves and treated as commodities.

  Conceptually he understood that going after little fishes like Marco wasn't his goal. They all wanted the big guy. The man they called Trinity. And stopping transactions at Marco's level would only cause the snake to grow another head, so to speak. There'd be somebody else to pick up the slack if Marco was eliminated from the picture.

  He thought he could do it. He thought if he intellectualized the whole assignment he could get past the memories buried deep inside his chest. He thought he could ignore the urge to rip Marco's heart out through his chest wall, but that hadn't happened either.

  Stuck in town tying up loose ends while leaving Grace vulnerable, drugged, and in Marco's hands hadn't been part of the deal. Without a choice, he stayed to finish what had been asked of him while at the same time trying to figure a way out.

  Which brought him back to exactly where he was —speeding in excess of ninety miles an hour toward Marco's chalet, hoping he wasn't too late. Frustration rocked through him as he punched in the numbers on his cell.

  He didn't even let Nellis respond. Instead, as soon as the ringing stopped, he blurted, "I'm not doing this anymore."

  Pissed didn't even begin to describe how Kane felt about this disastrous assignment. He wanted Trinity as much as the next guy, but didn't have the stomach for working through the normal channels, especially if it meant he'd have to sacrifice more young women.

  "We need Trinity's identity." Nellis spoke in an even tone, in direct contrast to Kane's current temperament. While it forced him into focus, it only increased his anger two-fold. "The only way to get that is if you stay undercover as Evan. Marco trusts you. We know he's a stepping stone to the man."

  "You don't get it. Marco's pissed and a woman is in the middle of his crosshairs right now. She might very well be dead." The thought made him sick to his stomach. Kane couldn't remember another time when he'd felt this helpless.

  "That would be unfortunate."

  Kane's body shook as adrenaline and rage rocked through. "Unfortunate? That's all you can say about a woman who was dragged halfway around the world to be sold to the highest bidder." Even though he knew there was more to her story, he wasn't about to tell Nellis that, instead choosing to play the guilt card.

  "We all know sometimes there are casualties out of our control. This type of thing is very unpredictable. You have to remember the big picture."

  Kane ground his teeth together so tight, his jaw ached. "Screw the big picture. It's my call and I'm bringing her away from the danger, and I'll nail Trinity to the wall as well." He blew out a breath. "That is, if she isn't dead."

  Nellis didn't seem to hear Kane's last comment, or chose to ignore it. "Like it or not, you can't make up your own rules for these things."

  "The hell I can't." With that, he pressed the end button and threw the phone onto the passenger seat.

  If Grace had been a little more patient, he'd had a plan. He wasn't going to let her or Liz get sucked any further into the clutches of Trinity or his organization. But then she took matters into her own hands and went crazy ninja on him. That had been unexpected. Sure, he'd known she had some wits about her. He'd known she could stand up to pressure, but where had all that come from?

  Certainly she wasn't who she presented herself to be. Young, naïve college students looking to break into modeling didn't have the lethal skill set Grace possessed. Kane allowed a smile to ease up the corner of his mouth.

  She'd made quick work of Arte. Breaking somebody's neck was an expertise that most people—especially women—didn't possess. So that meant she was skilled. What was that number the police told him Liz kept reciting?

  555-785-7878

  He texted IT and asked them to run the number for him. Seconds later came the response. The Alliance. An organization offering services in hostage retrieval and security.

  He couldn't help but think Arte deserved her brand of street justice more than anybody he knew. Which was saying a lot when, due to the nature of his job, he brushed elbows with a lot of dirt bags.

  Prime example—Marco, as well as the elusive Trinity. Marco had a few bruises and bumps as a result of his altercation with Grace. Another feel-good for Kane.

  But she couldn't do it alone. Especially not now, when Marco was on the proverbial warpath and she was right in the middle of a shitstorm of trouble.

  What was she thinking? The rate she was going, she'd get herself killed and he'd be unable to stop it.

  After leaving Special Forces, Kane had worked for th
e FBI for ten years. In all that time, he'd thought he'd seen every inhumane treatment imaginable. He'd become numb. Immune to it all. Then he'd become one of Marco's merry men. And learned how naïve he'd been. Marco knew more about torture and brainwashing than Kane could have imagined.

  Grace.

  Kane sucked in a deep breath as he pushed the car over a hundred in his race toward Marco's estate. At some point, in everyone's life, a man had to have his I'm mad as hell and not going to take this anymore moment. This was his.

  Kane screeched to a halt on the driveway, threw open the door, and raced inside. Knowing what Marco was truly capable of, fear rattled his brain, de-focusing his objectivity once again.

  Kane rushed inside the house and past the guards into Marco's office. As he entered, Grace's head snapped back and she tumbled against the desk. The slap Marco gave her with left a giant red welt across her cheek. With her hands tethered with plastic ties, she had no way to protect herself.

  Kane clenched his hands while he fought down the urge to tackle Marco to the ground. Going off half-cocked wouldn't help Grace. More than likely, it would only get them both killed.

  As repugnant as the thought was, he needed to start thinking like Marco if he had any hope of saving her from disaster. Money. That was the man's Achilles' heel.

  Her head dropped to her chest like a rag doll that had lost its stuffing. The sick feeling in Kane's gut spread throughout his body as she used the top of the desk to steady herself.

  Just as he worried she was going to pass out, he saw her grasp a loose paperclip and hide it in the palm of her hand. He had to wonder what she planned on doing with it.

  "You cost me, bitch," Marco screamed.

  He hit her again. This time a trickle of blood oozed between her lips. Hauling her from the desk, Marco forced up her chin. He held it there until her eyes opened.

  "Now maybe you'll learn not to cross me."

  "Don't count on it," she said moments before head-butting Marco. She didn't have a lot of leverage given the angle, the lingering effects of the drugs, and her constraints, but the impact forced Marco back on his heels. Kane hard a hard time suppressing a smile.

  "You bitch," Marco screeched as he rubbed his forehead.

  When he drew back his fist, Kane grabbed Marco's arm. "I wouldn't do that, Marco." She couldn't take much more based on the way her eyes were glazed and unfocused. Kane couldn't fathom how she'd garnered the strength to strike back at all.

  Marco glowered, his rage now directed toward Kane. "Give me a good reason why I shouldn't beat this slut senseless."

  Kane dialed down the testosterone arcing between them. "Number one—this isn't the time or the place." Kane glanced around, playing into Marco's paranoia. Let him believe there might be some members of the household who might dare tell others Marco had lost it. "And more importantly, she's no good to you covered in bruises with possibly a broken nose or cheek—or worse yet, dead. If you promise a high-quality product, you need to deliver it. Since I imagine that virgin sacrifice thing is out of the question with Grace, you need to give them the beautiful redhead they requested. And right now she's not looking so beautiful."

  When Marco paused for a few more precious seconds, Kane continued, "G didn't see the fiasco, so he doesn't know. I called to say the women became ill suddenly. It's all smoothed over. He's still anxious to go ahead as long as she looks as good as she did in those pictures you took. I set up the meeting for next Saturday." A little white lie for the time being would give him some more time to think through his options.

  Kane maneuvered his body so that he inched between Marco and Grace. "You've got at least a couple of days' worth of healing to make her presentable as it is."

  Now that she'd piqued Marco's ire on several occasions, the woman probably wouldn't survive more than a day or two. Which was how he came up with the strategy of theoretically continuing on with the deal as planned. It gave Kane a couple of days to come up with something that wouldn't get the two of them killed.

  Appealing to Marco's greed might circumvent anything worse. Concentrating on Marco's need to accumulate money, no matter what the cost or sacrifice to others, was the path of least resistance for the time being.

  Marco paused, his shaky hand poised in the air as rage and adrenaline poured out of him like a dike springing a leak. In his current state, Kane couldn't say for sure what he'd do next.

  "I know what this is about. You want her for yourself."

  Kane chuckled despite the circumstances. He guessed perverts thought everyone wanted the same thing. "Are you crazy? She's way too much trouble. I like my females willing and subservient without the use of drugs. We both know that's not Grace." He hesitated for a few seconds. "You know I'm all about the bottom line, and she's bringing in a good price. Besides, the big guy won't be too happy if you damage the goods before he gets his cut. You've already lost one. I'd be willing to bet you wouldn't want to answer to Trinity if you lost both."

  As expected, Marco shifted his attention from Grace onto Kane. "Screw Trinity. I can do whatever I want." Sounding more like a whiny six-year-old than a grown man, Marco slowly lowered his arm despite his words.

  "But he's got the connections. He makes it all happen for you, doesn't he?" Kane knew he was pushing it, but he needed to get the attention off Grace until it was a fair fight. If Marco continued to take his frustrations out on her in the condition she was in, she'd be dead within the hour.

  "I could kill you right here and now for that." Marco straightened his posture, trying to look all badass.

  But Kane knew the real truth. More than anything, Marco was terrified of enduring Trinity's wrath. While he didn't know the man's identity—and he wasn't all that sure Marco did either—he did know Marco would do anything to avoid crossing him. Rumor had it that acts of unspeakable violence happened to those who dared cross Trinity.

  Despite an instinct to go in for the kill, Kane gave Marco back a little of his dignity. "If you're going to kill me, make it for the right reasons. Don't make it because I'm telling you what you don't want to hear."

  Kane kept his posture relaxed, non-threatening. With four guards milling about, he'd be a dead man in less than a second if Marco so chose. Kane had no illusions that he was indispensable.

  "I'll clean her up. Let her come off the drugs. Before you know it, she'll be good as new and off your hands. And you'll be several thousand dollars ahead of the game in a few short days."

  Kane didn't wait for a response, but gathered Grace, putting a tight grip around her biceps. Her eyes slid open a fraction and she gave him a half-smile.

  Kane shuffled past Marco with an arm about her shoulders. Before they made it to the door, Marco stepped in front of them, blocking their path.

  He stuck out his hand, bumping against Grace's right shoulder. "No woman ever hits me," he hissed inches from her face.

  "You're wrong about that." She sucked in a breath, "I just did. In fact, more than once today."

  This woman had a death wish. Why else would she continue to push Marco's buttons at each and every turn?

  "Must be the drugs," Kane offered as a feeble excuse as he ushered her down the hall and out of Marco's reach.

  He brought her downstairs to the room adjacent to where she'd been held earlier. Not much different than the other one in terms of dampness, but at least there was a cot. As soon as her butt hit the thin mattress, she slumped to a prone position. He slid her legs under the thin cover and eased the hair from her eyes.

  "Liz?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, as if the effort cost her more than she could endure. Cracked and bleeding, her lips were so swollen that the inside was exposed and stretched dry and taunt over her teeth.

  "She's safe. The Swiss police brought her to the American Embassy." He whispered into her ear rather than take the chance Marco was listening. Offering that little bit of good news was easy. It was staring into those eyes filled with pain that was the hard part.

  She looked like
crap. Her wavy red hair was a mass of tangles, with clumps of dirt and drying blood adding to the disarray. The white blouse she wore earlier was in tatters and spattered with blood. Kane couldn't tell if it was hers, Arte's, or maybe even Marco's.

  Her right bicep had deep bruises circling it, and her forearm sported a large red welt. There were scrapes and scratches over almost all of her exposed skin.

  A bruise marred her right cheek as the beginnings of a black eye formed on her left. A deep red scratch from Marco's ring cut through her right eyebrow. She had drying blood below her nose and fresh blood oozing from her bottom lip.

  All of which would be good. It would give him a couple of days to figure out how to get her out.

  Kane went into the bathroom, rinsed out a towel, and set about the task of cleaning her up. Determined to figure out a plan and get her out of this death trap.

  "Where did you come from?" He whispered the question into the air, thinking she was too out of it to respond.

  Seconds later he was surprised when her eyes slid open. She smiled while her voice croaked from strain. "Haven't you learned about the birds and bees yet?" Her eyes slid closed seconds later.

  He stifled a chuckle. But first things first.

  As bad as she looked, he snapped off a picture and sent it to the FBI. Sooner or later they'd match it up with facial-recognition software and he'd get the lowdown on her story and how she got hooked up with The Alliance.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sabrina readjusted her position on the cot while pain radiated from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Everything ached, but especially her head. With every beat of her heart, her pulse baboomed inside her skull. The drugs Marco had used this time on her were a powerful concoction that had instantaneous results and a kickass lingering effect of dizziness every time she moved.

  She licked at her parched lips and cracked open one eye, hoping for solitude. Instead, she saw him. The guy they called Evan.