32. Vortex
THIRTY-TWO
VORTEX
“You look ridiculous,” Havoc says to me while he fastens the dark coat over the bullet resistant vest.
I feel ridiculous. The security uniform I’d stolen from a now-passed-out guard is tight on me, and I’d had to loosen the vest to its maximum capacity for it to fit me at all.
“Less talking, more walking,” Tristan Bloom hisses.
He’s the “infiltrations expert” Blake Heart had sent to meet us. He doesn’t look like much, just an average sized guy with blond hair pulled into a half ponytail, but Blake had assured Caleb that he was the best in the area.
“What kind of infiltration do you do, anyway? Doesn’t your boss run a casino?” Havoc asks, a lot quieter.
“Sure,” Tristan answers cryptically. “Do you want to spend time chit chatting, or do you want to find the hostages?”
That shuts Havoc up.
Both of us know that time is limited. Even though we were able to track Seven, we can’t be sure that Lori is with him.
We also can’t be sure what’s happening to the two of them while we stand here and size each other up.
I don’t particularly like that Tristan is taking the lead in this.
I know that Blake Heart trusts him, or he wouldn’t be here, but I’m used to being the one calling the shots.
Anything I say here is superfluous, and I have to defer to the expert.
“Are you in position?” Caleb’s voice crackles into my ear.
The earpieces Tristan gave us are working, at least.
“Almost,” I say, holstering the gun I’d taken off the guard. I feel a little bad about leaving him drugged and tied up in the back of the parking garage, but then I remember that this guy chose to work for the Lockwoods.
If we weren’t in a hurry, I’d be dumping him over the side of the garage and letting gravity do its work.
Tristan motions for us to follow him. “Remember, stand tall and act like you belong here. Because you do.”
The instructions seem simple, but I expect to be discovered immediately. We aren’t the same build as the guys we’d stolen the uniforms from, and we don’t look anything like them.
We use the keycards to get in through the back entrance, which is mercifully free of other guards—because the guys we’d taken care of were charged with patrolling this area.
Tristan takes only one quick glance around before he starts walking with purpose.
“Where are we going?” Havoc hisses at him. “We should split up, cover more ground.”
The walls are bare white, with a few corporate approved modern art paintings hanging here and there.
Per Virgil Club’s contacts, the entire building had been acquired two months ago, and has slowly been filling with accountants, lawyers, and tech firms—all of them shell corporations with no real business to speak of.
“We should get to the security room first,” Tristan says. “The camera setup will let us know where they’re hiding their valuables.”
Valuables .
Fuck.
Thinking of Seven and Lori as objects doesn’t help my state of mind, but Tristan isn’t necessarily wrong. The Lockwoods would absolutely relegate them to something less than human, even though their security might be different for it.
I take a deep breath.
“All right,” I say. At least I sound calmer than I actually am.
I am going to throttle Seven when I get my hands on him. And kiss him, and hug him, and hold him, because I have a feeling that whatever he’s going through right now…
It’s not pretty.
My thoughts drift to Connie. I’d called her to tell her to lock herself down and stay put, but it doesn’t do much to soothe my anxiety. The thought of her ending up in this sort of situation is almost more than I can stand.
I wonder if Seven would have sacrificed himself for her.
I don’t know how I feel about that thought.
She’s my sister, but she’s also not a child .
Tristan keeps walking confidently, peering down a corridor every now and then. I know he’s found something when he stops and holds his hand up.
“It’s an empty building,” a voice says. “I don’t know why they’ve got us here.”
“So you’re getting paid to watch nothing. Who cares? Take the paycheck, enjoy the easy job.”
“That’d be easy if I got to sit in front of the cameras half the time like you do, but I’m walking around in circles.”
I notice Havoc rolling his eyes.
The two voices keep chatting, but they get quieter, too.
Tristan’s hand is still up, and I wait until he gives the signal for us to move.
“They don’t know what’s going on here?” Havoc asks, his fists clenched. “How can they not…”
“It’s possible they don’t,” I say, and I don’t know why I’m attempting to give them the benefit of the doubt.
It wouldn’t make me hesitate to shoot to kill if it came down to it, which says more about me than I care to think about right now.
“But as far as I’m concerned, if they’re here, they’re in the way. ”
“Would you tell the rank-and-file all about your boss’s business?” Tristan asks. “If yes, Caleb’s a lot more trusting than I expected.”
Not even Havoc knows for sure what I’ve done for Caleb because he is the opposite of trusting, so I can see his point.
“Yeah, but I’m not going to risk getting shot in the back,” I retort. “Maybe they’re only on the periphery of being complicit, but we’re getting Seven—” I cut myself off and give a brisk shake of my head. “Let’s keep going, but know that I’m going into this with extreme prejudice.”
Tristan leads us to the stairwell. “Keep your heads down. If you spot a camera, don’t do something stupid like look directly at it.”
“Yeah, thanks, that was definitely the first thing I was going to do,” Havoc mutters.
“Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,” Tristan responds, pushing the door open. “Security office should be on the second floor, if the blueprints we got are right.”
I nod. “Let’s hope they are.” I fall silent. Our footsteps are heavy enough without adding chatter to the mix, and we need to be able to hear over the earpieces if anything goes wrong.
Please, please don’t let anything go wrong .
I’ve never been the praying type, but right now, I’ll appeal to anyone and anything that might get Seven — and Lori — back in one piece.
After only a few seconds on the second floor, a walkie-talkie beeps.
We all freeze.
“Kyle? You missed check-in. Everything all right?”
It’s the walkie-talkie on my belt.
Tristan scrunches up his eyes, then he grabs the walkie talkie and clicks it on. “S-sorry. I’ll… fuck, I ate a burrito for lunch, and my stomach… I’m on the can.” He keeps the walkie talkie away from his mouth, and he covers his mouth with his hand to muffle his voice.
“Oh, fuck. Was it from that taco place down the street?”
Tristan’s about to answer, but Havoc shakes his head. “There’s no taqueria down there,” he whispers. “It was a pupuseria.”
Leave it to Havoc to make note of the Mexican restaurants even as we’re driving past them.
Tristan gives Havoc a thumbs up. “No, leftovers from last night,” he says. “Sorry, I can’t, I can’t…” he clicks the walkie-talkie off, then sighs in relief. “Okay, they’re already suspicious. Time to speed things up.”
I want to snap at him that we’re not the ones being slow, but I have a feeling that he’d be making much quicker progress without us. Still, we need to stick together. We need to be there when we find Seven.
I nod instead. If we’re getting close to the heart of security, it stands to reason that those around here will be more alert, less complacent.
“What do we need to do?” I ask quietly.
“What I think the two of you do best,” Tristan answers with a cryptic smile. He picks up the pace, and I’m still wondering what he means when we turn the corner and reach the security office.
There are two large guys standing in front of it. They scowl as soon as they see us.
“I told you that wasn’t Kyle’s voice!” one of them says.
Havoc smiles and raises his fists. “All right, let’s do this.”
Before I can say anything, he rushes forward. That leaves me with no choice but to follow.
The larger of the two guys comes for me, and I raise my arm to block the first blow.
This part is easy and familiar, at least. It would be easier to shoot these guys, but a gunshot would be heard throughout the entire building. The guns are only for after Seven and Lori are safe.
“Do you even know who you’re working for?” Havoc asks as he dodges a blow. “What your bosses do?”
“They pay me. The rest is none of my business,” his opponent answers.
I wince when I narrowly avoid getting hit square in the face. As it is, the fist glances across my cheek anyway. At least that gives me the opportunity to knee the guy in the waist.
If I thought they’d listen, or even give a damn, I’d tell them what their bosses are doing. But if I was in this situation, I wouldn’t believe strangers who had come in with violence in mind. There’s no point in trying to convince them, and I tell Havoc, “Don’t bother.”
We need to get this over with as soon as possible, so I attack more aggressively than I might otherwise. It means I open myself up to more attacks, but I’ll take the bruises if it gets me to Seven faster.
The narrow corridor makes it harder to fight, but it also gives us an opportunity. I meet Havoc’s gaze, and somehow, we’re on the same wavelength.
We both slam our opponents hard—and they crash into each other, collapsing onto the floor. Havoc immediately kicks one of the guys in the side, and he groans loudly.
“If the two of you are done,” Tristan suddenly interrupts. “Get them tied up and come in here.”
Havoc and I share another look.
“He’s fucking condescending,” Havoc mutters, but he gets to work zip-tying hands and feet.
“He got us this far,” I say, but I don’t disagree.
The second guy tries to crawl away, but I kick him, too, then tie him up next to his buddy. We drag both of them into the security office.
I stop short when I see two passed out guys tied to chairs.
Tristan hovers over the computer keyboard, tapping buttons to make the camera feeds change.
“You took out two guys while we were each fighting one?” Havoc asks.