Now she was even more afraid for Andrii. He would come, and she didn’t want him to. She prayed he wouldn’t find a way in. These vicious men would kill him for certain.
* * *
“We run this by the numbers, like any other rescue mission,” Steele said before Maestro could leap from the truck.
“Then fuckin’ get the numbers down,” Maestro said. Code had provided them with feed from the cameras he’d tapped into. “She’s a mess. You know they’re going to kill her.”
He glanced at Savage and Destroyer. Killing wasn’t the worst that was going to happen to her. The blows she’d been receiving were nothing compared to what was coming. Derrick would inflict more pain and damage, and Patrick would act as if he were trying to calm his brother. It was a method used often in the trafficking business to force their victims into cooperation. It was possible they would even use drugs on Azelie.
“The guards outside the club must be taken out. Code said they were hired from a private security company, which means they aren’t part of the Billows’ business. Some may be, but you can’t take the chance. That means put them out, but no kills unless you have no choice.”
Maestro’s hand tightened on the door handle. “We know the rules of engagement. Every second we’re waiting is time they have with her.”
Steele ignored him. It was stating the obvious, and Maestro knew it wasn’t Steele’s fault. He was team leader and responsible for the safety of every member of his team. Steele had felt the same anxiety when his son had been kidnapped. Steele was right: they had to keep the team safe, or they wouldn’t be any good to Azelie.
“Sorry, Steele.” He rubbed his chest, over his heart. “We’re coming, sweetheart. Have faith that we’re coming for you,” he added, murmuring aloud.
“Code says she hasn’t so much as whispered your name, Andrii,” Lana said. “She’s going to protect you. She was dismissive of Preacher as well, as if he couldn’t possibly have anything to do with this.”
“She knows what’s coming, and she still won’t give you up,” Savage said. He looked over Maestro’s shoulder to the quick sketches Steele had thrown up on the screen, giving them their assignments.
“What are we going to do about Doug, Carlton and the widows?” Keys asked. “They’re in the way, and they aren’t about to leave without seeing that Azelie is safe.”
“Let them distract the guards,” Maestro suggested. “Those three women can talk the ears off of anyone. They can be an asset if they’re told what to do to keep safe.”
“I’m on it,” Lana said. “They’ve seen me.”
“Need you protecting our people,” Steele reminded her.
“It won’t take but a moment,” Lana assured him. “Give me three minutes with them and then I’ll go high.”
“Grateful, Lana,” Maestro said. “Those five are her family, or as close as she’s got. They matter to her.”
“Parsons and Gray were a big deal in the military,” Code said. “I could hack into their records, but most of it will be redacted. Even so, I don’t need to see the records to be aware they know what they’re doing. They might have gotten old, but don’t discount them. They can be lethal. Penny is the daughter of a cop. After he died, she spent years on the shooting range at her mother’s insistence. The other two, the Christian sisters, lived with them. I’ll bet both have concealed carry permits. I haven’t checked, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Let’s do this,” Steele said. “Be safe, but you bring her back to us. We don’t need information from either of those men. Get in, take them out, and get Azelie out of there. Be mindful that either or both of those men could have a manual switch to the bombs. We haven’t pulled the plug on them yet. I figured it would be better for the cops to find everything intact.”
Maestro flung the door open and leapt out, ducking as he ran toward the tunnel entrance. Keys, Master and Player were right there with him, spreading out, running the way they had on so many missions. Reminiscent of a wolf pack. That was Czar’s teaching. He’d taught them to be wolves, to work together to bring down prey.
They made no sound as they moved through the grass, brush and rocks toward the tunnel entrance. Maestro was lead. Two guards were stationed on either side of the entrance. Neither wore the security company jackets with the logo that would have told him they were recently hired. The Billows brothers hadn’t taken any chances with their tunnel. They were using their own men to guard it.
Two guards outside, and they’re on full alert. They’re not rentals, he warned the others.
Keys, get close enough when the guards are taken down to vet the tunnel entrance inside, Steele cautioned.
Maestro detested that Keys would be in harm’s way. As an asset, he was worth his weight in gold. But he was also Maestro’s closest brother.
Maestro went down onto his belly and dug his elbows and toes into the ground to propel himself forward, staying low as he stalked his prey through the brush. He’d learned the maneuver from his childhood, when it was always life or death if there was a whisper of sound. A grass blade moving or a rock disturbed could earn a vicious beating with a whip, not just for him, but for the other members of his team. As children without medical aid and living in dirty conditions with rats and insects, always cold, the more they had open wounds, the more likely it was that someone would die. Maestro, like his other team members, had learned to move through the brush without detection.
He used the stalk of a leopard, moving and then freezing if his prey had looked toward him. The guard was a fairly large man, bulky in his oversized jacket. He carried a semiautomatic and had extra magazines strapped to his waist. A knife hung from his belt, blatantly large, the blade slightly curved. It was clear he meant business. He didn’t smoke or pull out his phone. He was very much on alert.
“All clear, Dwayne,” he reported to someone.
Someone has surveillance on these guards, Maestro said. Ink, we need eyes in the sky. He was frustrated that he couldn’t just take the guard out. He was only a few feet from him, but someone was watching over them. The moment he killed the first guard, the Billows brothers would be alerted, as would any other guards on the property.
“Check in with Bam-Bam, Conway,” came the terse reply.
Ink was their go-to man if they needed aid from birds or other animals. He had a way of connecting with them that, again, like Keys’ talent, Maestro had no understanding of how it worked. But his gift was valuable and had saved them many times as children. He’d been instrumental in shielding Steele’s young son, Zane, during their rescue of the child.
The flutter of wings heralded an owl swooping low, skimming along the grass, talons stretched toward the earth. The bird seemed to come out of nowhere and was large, like most of the great horned owls. With its four-and-a-half-foot wingspan and the shape of its wings and softly fringed feathers, the bird could fly in near silence. This great horned owl was gray and white in coloring, making it appear to materialize out of the San Francisco fog, looking for all the world like an apparition. With the large tufts on its head resembling horns, round yellow eyes and wicked beak, the predator was unnerving.
The owl streaked, talons outstretched, looking to lock on to prey hidden in the grass close to Conway’s feet. Conway swore, stumbling back as the owl pulled up and seemed to fade into the fog.
“Did you see that?” The guard sounded shaken.
“Yeah, what the hell just happened?” Dwayne demanded.
The team leader is sitting in the oak tree, the tallest one, with the bent, twisted branches, Ink reported.
I’m on it, Preacher said. Give me a couple of minutes.
“Did you see that owl, Bam-Bam?” Conway asked, apparently shaken. He rubbed one hand up and down his thigh. “I nearly pissed myself.”
The second guard, pacing just outside the entrance, gave a sneering laugh. “You sound like a girl, Conway.”
Conway swore at Bam-Bam but then laughed. “I wish I had my phone out and got a picture of it coming out of the fog.”
Dwayne is down, Preacher advised. You’re clear to go.
Maestro didn’t wait. On three. He didn’t have to look. He knew Keys was in position. They’d run this particular drill hundreds of times. He rose up, slashing with his knife, severing the arteries in the thighs, groin and under the arms in less than a second, slamming one hand over Conway’s mouth to prevent him from crying out. Maestro lowered him to the ground, stripping away the gun. Keys had mirrored his actions with Bam-Bam and was already hurrying away from the body to approach the actual entrance to the tunnel.
Maestro covered him as Keys ducked inside the darkened passageway and approached the door that had been built to block entry. Keys held up his hand and then held up two fingers.
Two just inside, but I feel the presence of more. We’re going to have to take them down fast, so the others hidden along the corridor won’t be alerted.
Maestro swore under his breath. It stood to reason that the Billows brothers had secreted their own men inside the tunnel rather than have them patrolling the grounds of the club. The rented security was for show only and to create a distraction if any rescue party showed up.
The second we go through that door, we’ll have to kill them both, Maestro said. Give me the exact position of both men. They can’t have time to get a warning off.
Keys stood in silence for what seemed an eternity to Maestro before finally nodding. One is taller than the other by quite a bit. He’s on the left side of the corridor leaning against the wall. His back is to us. The other is sitting, but I can tell he’s very slight. His chair has been turned partially toward the other man. The one sitting is older, and he keeps moving like his hip hurts. He’s the one I’m worried about. If he moves when we go through the door, you’re going to miss.
I won’t miss. Azelie’s life depends on a clean throw. Maestro was confident because he had to be. This would be the most important throw of his life. He had to make that blade fly true. There was no room for error. He had no doubt that if Billows was sent an alarm, he would kill Azelie. Give me the exact coordinates again. Once I have them, we go in fast. No hesitation. He couldn’t afford for his target to shift positions.
Keys waited, hands toward the door, and then he told Maestro exactly at what angle the guard was leaning. Maestro had already unlocked the door in preparation. He shoved inside and threw three knives in rapid succession. Simultaneously, Keys rolled into the tunnel to come up directly behind the taller guard. He slammed his blade hard into the back of the guard’s neck, severing the spinal cord.
Maestro followed his knives to his target to ensure the man was dead. He was gone, his eyes wide open. Maestro retrieved his blades, wiping the blood on the guard’s clothing. Keys was already moving down the tunnel at a rapid pace but stopping at each door along the way, checking either side. They were halfway to the room where McGrady had died when Keys signaled that the rooms on either side of the corridor were occupied.
Another delay. Another possible alarm for Billows. Maestro shared a long look with Keys. He indicated the door on the left side of the hall. He held up three fingers, bent down and drew stick figures in the dirt, marking the position of all three precisely. He drew them in chairs seated around a small table.
