32. Vortex #2
“Yeah,” Tristan answers. “It’s easy when you drug them instead of waste time with fist fights.”
“How did you—” I begin, only to shake my head. “You know what, I don’t care.” I watch Tristan as he goes through the camera feeds. “Do you think they’d really have the room they’re keeping them under surveillance?”
I need to see that Seven is okay.
“It won’t have cameras,” Caleb’s voice suddenly says in my ear. “They wouldn’t risk video evidence of any of the activities inside.”
I grimace, but I know he’s right. “So we look for whatever rooms aren’t being watched,” I say. “Which rooms are on the blueprints but not on the cameras? Can we tell?” It’s easy at the Roi de Pique, where I know the layout inside out. It’s a lot more difficult here.
“Most of the rooms don’t have cameras,” Tristan says, scowling.
“It’s all hallways. But…” He clicks something with the mouse, and the screen switches to another hallway.
The lighting in this one is worse. Tristan taps the screen.
“None of the other hallways have doors with that kind of security, though.”
There are three heavy locks on the door, as well as a keycard reader.
My pulse was already quick, but now my heart is racing. That has to be where they are. I don’t know what kind of security they have on their normal locations, but it doesn’t surprise me that this is excessive. They wouldn’t risk anyone accidentally walking in on this.
“All right. So we need keys and keycards,” I say. I doubt the men we took down have the appropriate clearance to get in to those rooms, but I go to them anyway, grabbing their IDs. It doesn’t solve the issue of keys, but it’s something.
And I need to feel like I’m doing something, anything, to help.
“Keycards are here,” Tristan says. He pushes keycards into a keycard device, and with a few extra clicks, hands them to us.
“How kind of the security office to grant us access like that. Physical locks… I’ve got a lockpick set.
We can try searching the pockets of any guards we encounter, too.
Somebody besides the Lockwoods has to be going in and out of there, right? ”
Havoc hasn’t said anything in a while, and I don’t understand why until I follow his gaze.
The camera shows a woman and a man walking down the second floor hall.
Emily Lockwood.
“Time to go murder her,” Havoc says in a rough voice.
This time, no one’s going to stop him from strangling the life out of her.
I don’t know who the man is, but I don’t care. If he’s with Emily, he’s a liability.
“Any signs of Abigail?” I ask, scanning the camera feeds. I don’t know if we could possibly be lucky enough for her and Emily to be in the same building at the same time, but we also have to make sure that we take them out before one or the other can escape.
Neither of them is getting out alive.
“Let’s go,” Havoc says. “Tristan, you stay here and keep us updated. But if we’re lucky, Emily will have those keys we need.”
If we’re lucky, she’ll know where Abigail is, too.
I don’t know if we can expect that much to be on our side.
“All right,” I say, then turn to Tristan. “Let us know if we’re going to run into any trouble along the way.”
At this point, I know we can’t cause a ruckus by starting to shoot, but we’re definitely in the position of needing to kill. We don’t have enough time to subdue, secure, and move on.
This is now a full-scale attack.
Havoc and I head out, both of us tense and ready for a fight.
“She went into room 217,” Tristan says.
I’m never going to get used to people whispering directions in my ear.
I nod even though he can’t hear me, glancing at Havoc. We start following the numbers on the doors, and the adrenaline keeps ramping up as we get closer to the end of the hallway. The directions show that 217 is on the right, and we find room 217 with the door still open.
Emily Lockwood and the man are sitting on a sofa inside, looking down at a tablet.
“Mom?” Emily says. “If you’re done, we can discuss…” She trails off when she looks up and sees us. The man follows her gaze.
Now that we’re close, I recognize him from the pictures.
It’s Seven’s father.
I don’t hesitate. Havoc is going to go for Emily, I know that much, so I aim for Paul Lockwood.
“Security!” Emily shouts. “How the hell?—”
Her voice cuts out when Havoc gets his hand around her neck. “I should have done this last time,” he hisses.
Paul goes for Havoc, trying to pull him off Emily. “Let go of her, you beast!”
I grab him by the arm, twisting it behind his back. “Beast?” I laugh, the sound strange and harsh to my ears. “You’re the one who sold your own son, you sick fuck.” I want to beat him to death with my bare hands. So badly, I want to make him scream and sob and piss himself.
It doesn’t feel like me.
Because of this man, this family, Seven had suffered. Not just while he was with them, but after he left.
They hurt him.
They tormented him.
They attacked my sister.
They kidnapped Caleb.
They took Lori.
They made Seven think he was worthless.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t end you right here,” I hiss at this sorry excuse for a man.
Paul whimpers and shakes his head. “What do you want? Money? I can pay you! Let us go, I’ll give you however much you want!”
I let out a dark chuckle. “You think money will make up for everything you did?”
Paul struggles against my hold. “It wasn’t me! It was Abigail! All of it was Abigail’s idea! She and Emily did all this! I would have let Rory go after he left!”
I’m seeing red. The idea that not going after him would make any difference at all is mind-boggling to me. I scoff harshly at him. “Do you really think that would’ve made a difference? The damage had already been done.”
“Dad!” Emily scratches Havoc’s arms, but he doesn’t let go of her either.
“Why did you ‘let them’ do those things to begin with?” I demand. “He’s your son.”
The thought still nauseates me. Seven never should’ve had to deal with a family like this, including the coward who will never have any excuse good enough to quiet the fury within me.
“I never wanted kids at all!” Paul shouts. He attempts to elbow me. “Emily was enough. Who needs more than one?”
“Jesus fuck, you’re sick,” Havoc growls. “What about you, bitch? Got anything to say for yourself?”
Emily wheezes as Havoc loosens his grasp on her enough to allow her to speak. “Mom loves Rory! He’s her favorite! She dotes on him! She wants to make him perfect!”
The words slam into me like a sledgehammer. “Her favorite?” I can barely get the words out. “What the fuck part about her trafficking him and torturing him makes you think he’s the favorite, Emily ?”
“Shut up, Emily!” Paul hisses. He looks at me with wide eyes and shakes his head. “Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She’s a dumb girl.”
“That’s right!” Emily quickly says. “I know nothing! You can let me go. Dad’s the one who did it all!”
Havoc meets my eyes. I can see the rage, but also the confusion.
These are the monsters we’ve been hunting, and it turns out they’re pathetic cowards.
“I didn’t—The whole business was Abigail’s idea!” Paul starts blubbering about something, and I realize that nothing they’ll say can ever explain any of this shit.
“Where is Abigail?” I demand, pulling Paul’s arms back higher and making him cry out in pain.
“I don’t know! With Rory!” Paul whimpers.
Emily nods. “She’s always with him! He’s the center of her world!”
I’m incandescent with rage, and it’s all I can do to maintain some semblance of calm as I ask, “And where would that be?”
They have no real reason to trust me. They have to know they’re not making it out of here alive.
“I don’t fucking know! Upstairs with all the—” Paul starts.
“Shut up! Dad, for once in your life, shut up!” Emily interrupts. She sobs and tries to fight Havoc harder, kicking and scratching, but there’s nothing she can do against his superior strength.
I pull my knife, and even though I want nothing more than to stab Paul over and over, I remind myself that we don’t have time.
Abigail is somewhere in this building, and if she’s with Seven, we need to find her before she does… My stomach churns. What has she done with him in the time she’s had so far?
She’s the one Seven was so scared of, the one who hurt him so badly. She’s the one who deserves the slow death, so while I don’t want to make this so easy for Paul, I slit his throat.
“Looks like you’re the one who needs to shut up,” Havoc mutters, squeezing her throat tight.
Emily tries to scream, but nothing comes out of her mouth.
“You deserve worse than this,” Havoc says to her.
“If I had the time, I’d drag you out into the desert and watch you cook under the sun.
East Coast girl like you, you don’t know what it means to live in the desert.
But Seven is more important than you ever could be, so be grateful I don’t have the time to really make you suffer. ”
I want to ask more questions, to find out what the fuck she thinks it means to be somebody’s favorite, but none of that is important.
The only thing that matters is making sure she can never do it to anyone ever again.
I’d rather get this over with than get answers that would never satisfy me anyway.
I watch Havoc dispassionately as he strangles the life out of her, as her kicking and flailing start to slow, and her face turns purple from lack of air.
It’s a better look on her, I think savagely.
Havoc suddenly lets go, and Emily coughs as she drops to the floor.
I stare at him, not comprehending. “Why did you stop?” I demand.
“The… the others,” Havoc says through gritted teeth. “The kids like Lori and Seven.”
I almost say that I don’t give a fuck about the other kids, but it feels cold on a level even I’m not sure I’m capable of.
“Let’s say we let her live,” I say, and the words taste foul even as I utter them.
“How long do you think it is until one of those hotshot senators gets someone to intervene and free her? How long do you think it is until she goes right back to what she does best? Or do you really think she’s going to have a change of heart? ”
I cast a disgusted glare at Emily, who’s still coughing.
Havoc tenses and glares at me. “I fucking know, okay? But if we kill her, there’s no fucking chance of learning what she knows!
And maybe she knows nothing, but are you going to take that chance?
Are you going to deny some other kid the same chance Seven had, because… because your anger is more important?”
I bark out a laugh. “You’re one to talk,” I retort.
“What are you going to tell Seven, huh? That you just let one of his tormentors go? That she’s still out there?
” It’s a low blow, and I know it, but the idea of letting Emily live goes against everything I’ve ever thought, everything I’ve ever done.
“I’m not letting her go!” Havoc stomps down hard on Emily’s hand, and she cries out hoarsely.
“We tie her up, we get Caleb’s goons—his other goons—to get all the information necessary to hand it over to the FBI or whoever.
The ones who can take down the whole operation.
But if we kill her now, all that information is gone and everything just fucking continues!
” Havoc straightens his shoulders. “I’m not going to screw over those kids just to make myself feel good in this moment. ”
“Who says anything about feeling good?” I demand.
It wouldn’t be hard to push him away and kill her myself, and I put serious thought into the idea. If anyone deserves to die, it’s Emily fucking Lockwood.
“Not to interrupt or anything, but I think I spot your Abigail Lockwood running toward the basement. Not upstairs,” Tristan says in our ears.
I glance at Emily. Even while she was choking, she and her father tried to deceive us.
She isn’t as cowardly as she appeared.
She definitely knows more than she let on.
Fuck.
“Fine,” I growl. “But I reserve the right to punch her in the face after we’ve saved Seven.”
“I’m taking the first punch, you dick,” Havoc says, wiping his face. “Okay. Let’s tie her up, then we check their pockets for keys.”
“Yeah.” I search Paul with my bloody hands while he secures Emily. I find a whole set of keys, and there’s no way to tell which of them are what.
Havoc holds up a similar keyring. It has a souvenir keychain from Calamity City.
I look at it in disgust and snatch it from him. “Fuck them both,” I snarl. “Let’s go.”
“You might want to hurry,” Tristan says in our ears. “Abigail is carrying a gun, and she’s got three security guys with her.”
It doesn’t matter who she has with her. There’s no longer any reason for stealth. Anyone is fair game.
“Tristan, call up whoever’s available to search upstairs,” Havoc says. “Vortex and I are going after Abigail.”
“Got it,” Tristan’s voice crackles over the comm. “…And for what it’s worth, I agree that keeping one of them alive is smart.”
Smart.
Right now, I don’t give a fuck what’s smart, but I don’t have time to argue. The most important thing is getting to Abigail.
I can always kill Emily later.