24. Hyland
CHAPTER 24
HYLAND
DISARM – THE SMASHING PUMPKINS
Riding Sabre’s elevator down to the interrogation floor, I run through Warner’s strict instructions one more time. It took a lot of trust on his part to allow this to happen while he rests up.
He was done with Axel’s fussing after a matter of minutes, begging me to bring the pup along for extra muscle. Now the three of us are on our way to face the ghost that just won’t stay dead.
Blaine Madden.
That name haunts me.
Deep in the bowels of Sabre’s HQ, we keep an array of rooms for interrogations. Our jurisdiction covers criminals arrested in the course of an investigation, granting us the power to question them.
I’d like to think it also allows us the power to snap their legs and spines if they fuck us around. From what I’ve heard, our two star witnesses are being tight-lipped.
“Looks like you’re learning on the job today.” I glance at Ember. “This isn’t a regular interrogation. You have a personal relationship with Madden.”
“If by relationship, you mean he threw me out of a moving vehicle, harassed me via text message and fought me in front of a warehouse full of thugs, then sure.”
Axel chuckles but remains silent.
“Trust me,” I continue brusquely. “The fact that he let you walk away alive on multiple occasions means he certainly believes you have a personal relationship.”
Scoffing in disgust, Ember tugs the hem of her black t-shirt down. It’s slightly cropped, riding above her waistband to reveal a flash of flat, creamy-white stomach. Enough to tighten my throat.
“Be careful.” I make myself focus on the task at hand. “Don’t try to be clever. If the asshole wants to talk, let him. We’ll document everything he wants to reveal then send him back to prison.”
“Gotcha,” she grinds out.
“He’s restrained. You’re perfectly safe.”
“I’m not scared of him,” Ember rebuffs.
“You should be.”
She raises an eyebrow at me. “Seriously?”
“Years back, a member of Madden’s family snitched,” I explain. “He was cooperating with the Serious Crimes Unit to bring about racketeering charges. Then their mole disappeared into thin air.”
Both Ember and Axel focus on me.
“They found him lynched and hanging from the rafters of an abandoned drugs farm in East London. Someone stapled a fucking note to his forehead. It said DISLOYALTY. ”
“Disloyalty?” Axel tests the word.
“These families operate on strict moral codes, even while they’re breaking the law. Loyalty is their lifeblood. Madden personally admitted to the killing when we arrested him.”
If I’m hoping to inspire Ember’s fear, I’m sorely mistaken. The crazy woman actually looks impressed by that level of commitment. Note to self: executions turn her on. That’s helpful information.
“I doubt he’s looking to hang me today,” she comments.
“Perhaps not, but Madden’s been playing an intricate game for a long time. He schemes and plots. That’s his modus operandi.”
“Your point being?”
“The Phantom has a plan. Try not to be a part of it.”
Tense silence takes over as we exit onto the subterranean level, cloaked in low light. This is Axel’s domain. As the team enforcer, I’m usually at the forefront of the fight, not interrogating those we arrest.
Skipping along with far too much pep in his step for someone heading into an interrogation, Axel is right at home. He leads the way to the suite where we’ve had our perps holed up.
“Hudson had Miguel in here for thirteen hours.” Axel scans his security badge to release the door lock. “He’s been taken back to his cell for the time being.”
“Thirteen hours?” Ember gasps.
“Yeah… Hud’s a little sadistic. Kept lighting and putting out cigarettes on the poor fuck.”
Eyes bouncing around, she takes a moment to consider how to react. “Good. I wish we had Luis to torture too.”
Honestly, her sadism probably rivals that of our company director. She just hasn’t had the opportunity to explore it yet. Reckless or not, I want to give her that chance.
“Miguel did a bit more than squirm, sweetheart.” Axel grins in amusement. “Not sure he has any vocal cords left to give us information with after all that screaming.”
Holding open the door for us to enter the viewing portion of the mirror-lined space, Axel clicks it shut behind us. The air pressure system hisses into action, securing the suite.
Through the three-way split on the other side of the smoky mirror, only one interrogation room is occupied. The other two sit empty.
On the far left, Blaine Madden casually lounges in his chair. He’s no longer covered in blood, at least. Some unlucky agent must’ve had the pleasure of supervising his cleanup.
Seeing his scarred face up close again only makes me want to march in there and break it. The fact that he had his mitts on Ember while she was unconscious reviles me. Even if he was helping her.
“Are you ready?” I move towards the door.
Shaking out her hands, Ember nods. “You’re coming with me?”
“Axel’s giving me the honour.” I cast him a brief smile. “This is usually his department, but I don’t think I could stand to wait out here and watch.”
“You owe me one,” he quips back.
“Yeah, yeah.” I refocus on Ember. “I’ll stand in the corner just in case. Those cuffs don’t make me feel any better about sending you in there with him.”
“Right.”
“If he moves an inch, I intend to rip his spine out then shove it down his throat.”
“Mmm. Physically impossible.” Axel moves over to the mirror to observe. “Take it from me. I’ve tried unsuccessfully.”
Pressing himself against the glass, he bobs on the balls of his feet while Ember rolls her shoulders. His playfulness seems to drain away, filling his body with visible tension instead.
“Ax? You good?”
When he doesn’t respond, I call his name again.
“Huh?” His head swivels to me. “Oh, sure. Good luck.”
I frown at him. Weird. What’s weirder is that he indulged my request to take his place in that interview. I didn’t expect him to actually agree to it.
There’s no time to question his behaviour as I escort Ember into the farthest interrogation room. Her shoulders are now thrown back, holding her auburn head high.
The moment she enters the space, Madden perks up. A satisfied smirk curls his pierced bottom lip when he inspects his prize. The slow perusal causes my hands to curl up, begging to pummel into his body.
“You came.”
“You called,” Ember responds coolly.
“Is that how this works? I feel honoured.”
“Don’t. I’m here for answers. That’s all.”
Taking the empty metal chair opposite his cuffed state, Ember sits down. I move to stand in the corner of the room, giving me direct sight of them. If Madden tries anything, he’s toast.
“You’re looking a bit more with it,” Madden observes, lazily checking her out. “Feeling any better?”
“I’m not here to talk about me.”
“Ah. That’s your first lie.”
Body tensing, Ember stares daggers at the man across from her. “Why were you attending that meeting? How do you know Luis and Diego?”
“Straight down to business with no foreplay, hm? My kind of girl.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
Crossing her arms, Ember shows no sign of rising to his teases. “Thank you for saving me. You’re a fucking hero. Are we good now? Answer my questions.”
“You don’t do gratitude real well. Do you, sweetheart?”
“It’s not my strong suit, no.”
“That’s okay. I’m not here for your thanks.”
Ember narrows her eyes on him. “Then why are you here?”
“For you,” he says simply.
Their back and forth is painfully mesmerising. I know firsthand that Ember’s a certified ballbreaker, but seeing her refusing to pander to Madden is particularly satisfying.
“I asked for a rematch in exchange for answers.”
“You’re heading straight back to prison from this room,” she denies. “No rematch. Just tell us what you know about Gael.”
“You drive a hard bargain. What’s in this for me?”
“Your life,” I insert. “We can just as easily lose your body and falsify the records to make it look like you never stepped foot inside this building.”
Head tossed back, Madden stares up at the ceiling for a moment to gather his thoughts. His raven hair is messy, long strands sticking in all directions above the closely cropped sides.
It’s pleasant to see him looking unkempt, even while he talks like some aristocratic asshole. I’ll feel even better when he’s rotting behind bars with zero possibility of ever escaping again.
“Fine,” he concedes. “I’ll play.”
“Then start talking,” Ember orders.
“Antonio Gael is a business associate.”
“So you do work for him.” Her face stains red with beautiful rage. “You son of a bitch!”
“A business associate of my father’s. Not mine.”
Startled by his response, I look between them, trying to pull the discordant pieces of this tale together.
“Your… father?” Ember squints at him.
“Yes. I do not work for Gael.”
Once upon a time, Madden spearheaded his father’s criminal empire. Nolan Madden built a dynasty on blood, dirty money and extortion, with his son providing the brute force to fortify their criminal legacy.
It’s no secret that Blaine Madden was resolutely against the skin trade. Years of research and investigating told us that much. He refused to dirty his hands with trafficking of any kind.
But his father?
A whole other beast altogether.
“Your new teammates at Sabre Security hauled me in to be prosecuted.” Madden cuts me a sour look. “And I was punished for my father’s crimes.”
“You’ve killed countless people,” I vocalise.
“Under orders. Yes, I have. But our family business operated within certain limits. Boundaries I refused to cross. I wasn’t aware that my father was crossing them without my knowledge.”
Elbows bracing on the table, Ember leans in. “Explain.”
Darkness seeps over Madden’s scar-twisted features, casting a shadow that steals the light seeing Ember had previously illuminated his face with.
“I discovered that he had money tied up in the human trafficking trade running through England and beyond. My father was loaning out our men to perform kidnapping runs and being paid handsomely.”
“Honeypots,” Ember murmurs.
“Excuse me?”
“Those men you were cosying up to in the warehouse. They’re Gael’s honeypots. The stuffed shirts he sends out to target innocent women and lure them into his trap.”
“That’s what you thought I was doing?” Madden grimaces in distaste. “I am not some foot soldier.”
“Could’ve fooled us,” I grumble.
The murderous look he shoots me is full of lethal threat. “I wouldn’t stoop that low.”
Smiling back at him, I let the limitless, cold hatred I hold for this waste of space shine through. “Wouldn’t you?”
“No! After I was arrested by you fools, my father vanished into thin air. He fled his crumbling empire and was never seen again. But he’s still out there.”
“No one has heard or seen from Nolan Madden in years.”
“Yes.” Madden nods at my statement. “Because he’s protected by powerful, loyal friends. The kind of friends that years of successful business transactions earn you.”
“You’re saying he’s working with Gael,” Ember interprets, the colour draining from her face. “Shit.”
The dire look Madden wears chills my skin.
“I suspect that my father has spent the last few years hiding out in some luxurious bolthole, bought and paid for by the man who held you captive.”
His words rebound off the walls, landing with cataclysmic magnitude. We spent a long time searching for the head of the Madden family, unsatisfied with charging his son alone.
No matter how long we investigated, tearing apart decades of shady dealings dipped in a bloodstained trail of money, there was nothing. Not a single sighting. It’s like Nolan Madden never existed.
We had to make our peace with dismantling the family legacy to the best of our ability—prosecuting hundreds of lower-ranking mobsters, taking down countless drug production sites and obliterating illegal markets.
“Were you in Mexico searching for your father?” Ember asks him.
“Partly.” Madden’s sparkling black orbs latch onto her. “Partly for you.”
“Wait, why me?”
“Don’t hurt me, sweetheart, but I needed a bargaining chip. I wanted to buy peace with these knuckleheads through your safe return because I need their help.”
Pushing off from the wall, I move closer to brace my hands on the table. Madden doesn’t show an ounce of discomfort at the way I loom over him in obvious threat.
“Our help with what?” I sneer at him. “You’re our enemy. I’m going to take great pleasure in tearing apart the few allies you’ve gathered and tossing you back in a cell.”
“Or you can help me track down my father and burn down the Madden dynasty for good.”
“Are you serious?” A laugh bursts free.
“Deadly. I’ll allow you to light the damn match, if you so please.”
Reeling back, I stare deeply into his eyes. Not spotting a single hint of deception. Jesus fucking Christ, he lost his mind while on the run from the law. He actually believes we’d buy that crap.
“Track him down so you can reunite with dear old dad?” I straighten, wanting to smack the smug piece of shit. “Then you’ll steamroll over my team for what we’ve done to that empire you once held so dear.”
“Fucking fool!” Madden spits out.
His calm mask slips, offering a glimpse of the infamous Phantom. You don’t earn a terrifying name for yourself with fancy accents and clever spiels. Though he was almost convincing.
“Do you really think I wish to reunite with that monster?” He strains against his wrist cuffs.
“You worked for the man your entire life.”
“Not out of choice!” His hiss fills the air. “I’ve spent most of my life in servitude!”
Fighting the handcuffs again, Madden thrashes and lurches, unable to escape the metal restraints.
“He raised me to be this… this… machine! This violent creature! I had no choice. I’ve spent every waking moment doing his bidding to avoid…”
Voice failing, Madden stares intently at Ember. Something seems to pass between them. A glimpse of recognition. She knows something about him that we don’t.
God, I fucking despise that.
“I did my best to steer the direction of the family business .” Madden swallows to moisten his mouth. “He still found a way to subvert my efforts. Then when the time came, he fed me to the wolves and left.”
When an odd sensation crawls into my heart and sinks its claws inside me, I take several big steps back. Disgust is tart and overwhelming on my tongue.
Oh, hell no. I don’t think so.
Do I actually pity him?
I’ve worked with villains before. The worst kind. Saved a fair few of them along the way too. Some are worthy of garnering our sympathy, while others deserve their place on society’s scrap heap.
Madden is evil.
He’s the worst of the worst.
Right?
“You used me as a pawn.” Ember loudly clears her throat. “To play some insane long game with people who despise you in hope that you could track down a missing mobster to get your revenge?”
“Something like that.”
“Fuck, Blaine. I don’t know what’s more impressive… your scheming or your audacity.”
Madden breaks out in one of his classic smirks. “I do enjoy being audacious when the situation allows.”
“But why infiltrate their meeting? They must know you’re not on their side.”
“I like to have a Plan B.” Madden shrugs. “I thought that if I could establish contact, present myself as a sympathetic party or perhaps an ally, it would lead me to my father.”
Whistling under my breath, I brace my hands on my hips. “You’re crazy.”
“This coming from you?” Madden tosses at me.
“Takes one to know one, dick.”
“Go back to scowling. You’re far better at it.”
The wall greets me when I turn to take a deep breath before I actually smash his head in. As usual, Madden has a game plan. I just didn’t anticipate it revealing him to be an almost-ally after all.
That’s the problem with this snake. You never know where his true loyalties lie. He’s been playing us while keeping his cards close to his chest all along. Just to reveal his motives at the opportune moment.
We can’t trust him.
Not now. Not ever.
It doesn’t matter if he can gain us access to Gael. Working with Madden is suicide. He’ll turn around to stab us in the back, given half a chance.
“Gael is offering eye-watering sums of money for your safe recapture,” Madden reveals, drawing me back to the room. “He will never stop. Help me find my father, and we’ll find Gael too.”
“Why should we trust you?” Ember argues fiercely. “All you’ve done is lie, manipulate and plot against us. I don’t see why we should believe a word of this ridiculous story.”
“You’ve seen what that monster did to me, sweetheart. The scars don’t lie. You should know—you’ve got plenty of your own.”
Damned jealousy sears my insides as I turn back around to hit him with a death glare. If this scar comparison is another pickup tactic, he’s going to be gravely unsuccessful.
“This isn’t my decision to make.” Ember abruptly stands, shoving her chair back.
“Then speak to your team,” he suggests.
“They won’t buy into this charade,” I supply flatly.
Madden glowers at me. “Your investigation is at a dead end. Interview the others you arrested all you like. None of them have the information you need.”
“Then we keep looking!” I burst out.
“Can you keep her safe for that long?” he challenges. “Luis and his men are the first of many who will smuggle their way into this country to take a shot at scoring the grand prize.”
“Me,” Ember guesses.
“Precisely.”
“We will keep her safe.” My declaration seems to fall on deaf ears.
“The longer this investigation stretches on, the more danger you will face.” Madden ignores me to address her. “This is your only chance to defeat Gael and secure your future.”
“That’s enough!” I march over to Ember to haul her up. “We’re done here.”
“Hy—”
“No. He’s a fucking reptile, Ember! You can’t trust him!”
Towing her from the room, Madden’s shouts follow our retreating footsteps. The formidable Phantom has crumbled to the point of pleading for our help. He’s as defeated as we are.
That doesn’t mean we can team up.
Once a snake, always a snake.