Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“They contacted you?” I thought this was all about getting to Silas, but it wasn’t that easy. Not anymore. They know we’re wrapped up in this. That the Marinos protect their own, and that’s exactly what Bonte is.
“Ransom.”
“They know it doesn’t matter what they do. We’ll come for them. They might as well try and get cash in the process.” War says.
“Track the message.” I drop the phone down on the desk. I’m sure it will take time. They wouldn't have sent it without trying to bounce the locations, but people always underestimate Mac and my father.
A red haze bleeds into my eyes, and I have to take a deep breath and push it back. All I can see is that blood on her.
“Got her.” My head snaps up. Dad hasn’t even touched the phone. He must have pulled it from the device Silas had.
“What?” I rush back over to his desk to see for myself.
“With tech, you’re always trying to figure out how to circumvent the very obstacles you use to put in others’ ways. You create something, and then you try to figure out how to beat your own technology. We can track these signals further now and detect them on people,” my dad rattles off.
"It's a house in the suburbs." The homes are spread out but not by much. Not enough for me to feel confident in taking a subject there. I would worry about them screaming and trying to get away. There wasn't a gag on Bonte. "It's new. I'd bet that's a stage house for the new homes they're building there."
"You're right," my dad confirms.
"Let's go." I point to Silas. "You're with me."
"Hold on, we need a plan here." My dad says.
"I don't need shit. I've got bait, and I'll throw it right on that fucking front lawn." Silas comes to stand beside me.
"Go, we'll be behind you," War says. "Z, get in touch with Mac and Marks. Eyes in the sky from all directions."
"I'm going with you," Naomi says but looks to her father. War gives a nod.
We stop in the garage to grab a few weapons before we roll out. Naomi hops into the driver's seat. With anyone else, I would protest, but Naomi has always had a thing for cars. I've never met anyone who can handle one better than her.
“It’s not far,” I tell her, but the location is already popping up on the dash screen, courtesy of Mac, I’m sure. Naomi and she are always connected in one way or another.
Naomi guns it. The tires are spinning as she bolts out of the garage. “Shit,” she mutters. “Aunt Cosima is going to be pissed if that left marks on the floor.”
I cock my gun, making sure there is a bullet in the chamber. “Mac?”
“I’m here.”
“Give us everything you have about the houses around there and if you have heat signatures."
“I’m already on it. My drone is five minutes from the location.”
I’m thinking everything is empty there, and it was picked for that very reason. It’s already Friday night bleeding into Saturday. They have a nice window of time. No one will be back until Monday.
There might be a lone security guard that keeps an eye on the construction equipment and keeps away the metal thieves or kids that break in and party.
I can’t let myself think about what they might have done to her already. I’m trying to keep a level of calm, but it’s slipping through my fingers. Mac comes back a few minutes later, filling us in on all the details she has gotten. There is one security guard, but he has to know that the house is being occupied. That means he’s been paid off.
“Eros.” Mac's tone is too soft.
“How many in the house, Mac?” She pauses. “Spit it out!” I shout.
“There are a total of three heat signatures, but one has to be dead. Their temperature has dropped. If they’re not dead, they will be very soon.” I grip my gun tighter.
“Do we have a plan at all?” Silas asks when we hit the main road.
“Don’t die,” I tell him.
I could give a flying fuck about him when I get my Bonte back. I’ll have her welcome home present, wrapped up nice and tight, to do with as she sees fit.
Chapter Thirty
BONTE
What if it’s me who makes people crazy? I’m really starting to wonder if that’s the case because Agent Anderson here is really off his rocker.
“Are you not hungry?” he asks, sitting across the table from me.
He’d pulled the dead body out of the room before locking me back inside. I'm not sure how long he was gone. My grip on time is gone. Then, he'd come back in and ordered me out of the room. I was expecting that we would leave this location for another or that he was going to kill me. Instead, the table was set with dinner on it. I can’t make this stuff up. Actually, I shouldn’t be surprised. This is the story of my life.