Chapter 29
Nick
April 21
Sunday afternoon
“I knowyou’ve got what I need.” Nick shoved the beefy informant up against the wall in the alleyway. Takamoto and Jensen stood a few feet away from Nick.
“Word’s on the street you’ve been spreading stories,” Nick continued. Dickey’s head hit the rough brick of the bar on Hanover Street in Charleston. The contents of the paper bag he was holding clunked when it hit the wall. “You’d better get that information out before I gut you.”
The contact of Dickey’s skull against the brick didn’t seem to faze the idiot. Probably too drunk. “Cash. I wanna see it.” The informant reeked of whiskey that went well with the stench of vomit, piss, and garbage in the alleyway. His voice squeaked but he sounded determined.
“You’ll get your money.” Nick put one hand around the big man’s throat that was scratchy with stubble. Nick squeezed. Dickey let out a gasp for air. “If you give me the information and I let you live.”
Dickey glared. Talk about a dumb shit.
Nick let out a low growl and wrapped both hands around Dickey’s throat as he thumped the man’s head against the brick. Dickey’s stringy hair swung across into his pale blue eyes.
“Fuck,” Dickey said in a strangled voice. He dropped the paper bag he’d been holding and grabbed both of Nick’s wrists. The bag landed with a crash and the sound of glass breaking. “Calm ya livva. I’ll tell you what I heard.”
Nick backed off, but only a little. Dickey might be a dip-shit loser, but he was a big man, and fast. Nick could take Dickey, but it didn’t hurt having Takamoto and Jensen at his back.
“You got it on my dungies.” Dickey glared down at the bag now soaked with what smelled like cheap whiskey and at the wet spot on his pant leg. “You gonna pay for that too.”
“Dickey, I have no fucking patience left.” Nick fisted his hands and was ready to use the big loser as a punching bag.
Dickey hooked his thumbs in his belt loops like he was trying to figure out what to do with his hands now that he didn’t have the bag. “Heard it from another guy.”
Great. Secondhand information.
“Farther down Hanover,” Dickey continued. “Near that real swank place.”
Nick went still. The feeling that he was about to get a decent lead prickled his spine. “The Gold Crown?”
“Yeah.” Dickey shifted as if he was going to run.
Nick grabbed the collar of the informant’s flannel shirt and pressed him against the wall again. “We’ve had that nightclub under surveillance front and back for a while and haven’t seen a goddamned thing.”
“That’s because you hasn’t been inside that place next to it.” Dickey’s thick alcohol breath was enough to make Nick intoxicated and he pushed away from the bastard.
Nick gave Dickey a skeptical look. “You have?”
“Na-ah.” Dickey shoved his hands into the front pockets of his stained jeans. Nick and his team had already searched Dickey for weapons so they knew he was clean. “But Jack budged a bulkie roll from the store and was having a drink by a dumpster in the alleyway ’round the corner from that Crown place and next to that craphole.”
“Get on with it.” Nick gritted his teeth. “My patience is about to snap, Dickey. Your information better be good.”
“Jack’s no chowdahead.” Dickey glanced down the alley toward Hanover Street before looking back at Nick. “Jack said these guys looked like they could rough a guy up. They was talking somethin’ about candy.”
Candy? But Nick still got that on-fire sensation again. “Get it the hell out.”
Dickey pushed his stringy hair away from his ruddy face. “Jack, he said those guys, they talked about women. They said somethin’ about merchandise and girls, like they was the same thing.”
Nick had the strangest sensation, as if being near Dickey was like standing too close to a vat of poison. He took a step back. “Are you sure you’ve got it right?”
Dickey tapped his head with one long finger and grinned, showing his yellowed teeth. “Got me a photographic memory. I know what Jack said he remembered. And Jack himself’s no bucka.”
“That’s what makes Dickey such a good informant,” Takamoto said as he came up to Nick’s side. “That ‘perfect’ memory.”
Dickey grinned. “And I listen up real well and no one pays no attention to no bazo.”
“Yeah, drunks aren’t usually as reliable as you, Dickey,” Takamoto said.
“Next time don’t screw around with me.” Nick put deadly meaning in his voice. “You spill your guts right away or I’ll do it for you.”
“Fuck.” Dickey looked at Takamoto. “Where’d you get this guy?”
“We’ll req your cash,” Nick said. “Right here, same time tomorrow afternoon, you’ll get it. An agent will be waiting.”
Dickey looked down at the soaked bag now with jagged glass poking through the wet paper that was falling apart. “Don’t forget money for the booze.”
Nick gave Dickey one last look. “If your info proves to be what we need, I’ll make sure you get a bonus.”
Dickey cracked another smile, but Nick turned his back on the informant.
No time for any more of this shit. Nick had to assemble a raid team and he had to do it now.
Nick
April 21
Sunday night
Nick and the rest of the six RED raid teams positioned themselves to the front and the rear of the place near the Golden Crown on First Street. In their black raid gear and with their uncanny abilities to remain virtually invisible, the RED teams had no problem remaining unnoticed, regardless of the sheer number of agents.
Even after having been a SEAL, Nick was impressed with RED agents who were equally as well trained, efficient, and dangerous, but in larger numbers. RED had more of an advantage when conducting a raid than any other force Nick knew of.
Before Kristin had been kidnapped, Nick hadn’t known RED existed. Because of his background in Special Ops, Karen Oxford had tried to recruit him but would never name the organization she worked for, so he refused to have anything to do with it. She’d said with his unique talents he’d make an excellent addition to the division.
Sources had informed him that some kind of covert organization similar to RED operated underground, but it was something no one had been able to prove. And once recruited, no agent would reveal the organization.
When Nick started searching for his sister, Oxford jumped to his mind. She’d told him she was based out of Boston. He’d taken the plain white card with the simple black writing with Karen Oxford’s name and phone number.
And called.
A short time later and he was in.
To Nick, most importantly, RED had means to track down Kristin that would make it faster than if he had continued to operate on his own.
And now those resources were about to be put to use to get Lexi back.
Nick’s heart thudded so hard it felt like it hit his Kevlar vest. Electricity ran up and down his arms. He was so goddamned charged to make this happen and find Lexi.
Sirens cut through the night in a distant part of Boston. The closer sounds of traffic only slightly muffled the noise and music coming from the Crown. From his hiding place in a doorway of a closed nearby shop, Nick caught the scent of alcohol along with smoke from the patrons who’d come outside for a cigarette.
The crowd was a little thinner on a Sunday than it would be on a Friday or Saturday, but the nightclub was still doing a good piece of business.
Nick spoke into his comm and all teams reported in.
Yellow team was in place, covering the back exit and the green team had the front. Snipers were positioned on the rooftops of nearby buildings.
Blue team would secure the upstairs. Orange team and Red team would head straight for the lower level.
Nick and his own private squad would be searching for Lexi. He had a feeling she was in there—but his gut told him she wasn’t going to be easy to locate.
“On my count.” Nick’s adrenaline rocketed. “Three…two…one! Go, go, go!”
“Police!” Blue team leader shouted as they charged into the building.
A few men sat in the front room of the place. They bolted for the back door, only to be brought up short by the Yellow team blocking their way. In moments, agents had the men slammed face first into the wall, unarmed and cuffed.
Blue team, which had the greatest number of agents for one team, started searching and cuffing each person.
While Blue team was doing their thing, Red and Orange teams, as well Nick’s special unit, charged in with Nick in the lead.
He spotted an armed man who was smart enough to have his hands flat against the wall while an agent disarmed then cuffed him. Where the man had been stationed, there was a real good chance he’d been guarding the entrance to where Lexi and the other women were being hidden.
Nick motioned to his teams to follow. The way Cabot operated, he sure didn’t expect their luck would hold for the lower level.
It had been all of three minutes from the time RED busted in the front and rear doors, and Nick’s teams located the black door next to the cuffed bouncer. Nick would definitely lay money on that door leading to the operation below.
Shots were fired. Sounded like AK-47s. RED agents returned fire.
Behind them continued the insanity but Nick let it fade into background noise.
As Nick and Takamoto crouched to either side of the black-painted door, screams could also be heard through it. Faint, and probably from the lower level.
Five minutes. Had to get in to find Lexi.
Nick nodded to the shielded agents holding the battering ram and gave the signal for “Go!”
The heavy wood door held with the first crash, but the battering ram made a good-sized hole. The agents rammed the door again even as shots from the other side of the door started peppering the wood.
The door gave and slammed against the wall.
One of the agents with the battering ram dropped, blood bubbling from his throat where the bullet had pierced beneath his shield and above his Kevlar vest.
Shit. One of the other agents pulled the injured man aside.
Nick, still crouched, took a quick look inside. Lit by a large fluorescent lamp was a black-painted room. On the opposite side of the room a hallway headed to the left and stairs led down.
Two desks and a stack of crates were around the room. A quick count—looked like six fuckers were firing at the door from behind their cover.
Nick held up six fingers to Takamoto who gave a sharp nod and relayed it to the teams.
Agents stood to the sides of the doorway with Nick and Takamoto who were crouched. Nick made a hand signal to Takamoto and raised his fingers.
One. Two. Three.
At the same time, keeping low, Nick and Takamoto rounded the doorway just enough to unload a few bullets. Nick took out one of his targets, center mass. The other target dove and cried out when Nick’s bullet hit him in the shoulder.
The doorframe cracked and splintered as the men in the room fired back. The sound of gunfire was followed by shouts of pain or heavy thuds.
A couple of agents were down by the time the six men inside the room had been eliminated.
They weren’t taking any fucking prisoners.
Ten minutes.
“Clear!” an agent shouted after he and three other agents examined the room, checking behind and under the desks and a stack of crates.
No doubt at all the stairs went straight to the girls and assholes downstairs. Nick motioned for Red and Orange teams to take the stairs.
Nick hesitated only a fraction of a moment before running in the direction of the black-painted hallway that was also lit with fluorescent lights.
That long, dark path just might lead to Lexi.