Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Onyx Security didn’t feel like an office anymore.
It felt like a war room.
Every screen was lit. Maps, satellite views, traffic overlays, live GPS pings blinked softly like heartbeats. The air hummed with low voices and the faint electronic whine of equipment doing exactly what it was supposed to do.
And still, I felt completely useless.
Zarek was out there.
Somewhere.
And all I could do was watch dots move across a screen and trust that the men around me knew what they were doing.
Zoe shouldn’t have been here.
I shot her a look for the hundredth time as she leaned against the back wall, arms folded, jaw set, her eyes locked on the largest monitor in the room.
“You were supposed to stay in Gatlinburg,” I hissed.
She didn’t look at me. “You were supposed to not be involved in an underground death-fight sting,” she shot back. “We’re all failing expectations today.”
Trenda stood between us, one hand on her hip, the other holding a paper cup of coffee she hadn’t so much as sipped.
“I knew something was up,” she said quietly. “Zoe doesn’t disappear without drama, and Simon doesn’t lie well enough to me to sell ‘nothing to worry about.’”
Across the room was Nolan O’Rourke. At home, I’d watched him tighten the wrap around Zarek’s ribs. He’d been calm in the way only former Navy SEAL medics ever were — steady hands, precise movements, no wasted motion.
Nolan clipped a micro GPS at Zarek’s armpit, not at the front of his chest, so we’d hear the conversation, not his heartbeat.
In his boot, they’d just put a GPS tracking device.
I’d watched him leave our house and head for Knoxville, then I’d put on my hoodie, sunglasses and got in Nolan’s car so he could drive me to Onyx.
Now, on the main screen, a countdown timer ticked down toward 4:00 PM.
We’d all looked at the maps, and I agreed with everyone, that it was likely one of three different cities. Louisville, Kentucky, Atlanta, Georgia, or Nashville. Zarek thought Nashville, so that was what I was thinking, too. We were all waiting to see which route their car took to head out of town.
“Okay, everybody. I see my ride,” Zarek said into the microphone. “It’s a brand new off-the-lot white Escalade. Two fellas just got out. I’m assuming they’re my welcome party.”
“Dammit, quit talking, they’ll see your lips moving,” Roan growled.
“Gotcha.”
I could hear them greet Zarek. “We need to pat you down,” one of them said.
“You were told not to bring a cell phone,” a different voice said.
“If I’m not doing well after the fight, I’ll need to call someone to pick me up.”
“We’ll take care of that,” the first one said. “We’re confiscating this. And your keys. You’ll get both of them back after your fight. Now, get in the back seat.”
“That gives them time to pick him up, process him, set the venue,” Roan said from behind one of the terminals. “Which means four- to five-and-a-half hours of drive time.”
“Depending on traffic,” Code added.
“I don’t care where they’re going,” I snapped. “I care that you don’t lose him. Who’s following them?”
“We’ve got three vehicles, so they can take turns. Michael and Renzo, Code and Jase, Kai and Beau.”
“He’s moving,” Nolan said.
My breath caught.
The camera feed flickered, then stabilized. I watched as the dot headed toward the freeway interchange. This was going to tell us where they were headed.
On the map, the dot moved.
South.
I leaned forward.
“I-75 South,” Roan confirmed.
Atlanta.
The room went quiet.
Simon stepped out of the conference room, already dialing. “I’ve got calls to make.”
Federal calls.
Atlanta calls.
Friends who didn’t ask questions first.
On-screen, the audio feed picked up Zarek again.
“So,” he said conversationally, like he always did when nerves made him chatty, “how long before I get to see where we’re going?”
Silence.
He tried again. “Because this whole blindfold thing is a little dramatic.”
A voice snapped back. “Shut up.”
I flinched.
The feed went quiet. I closed my eyes, trying to imagine what Zarek was going through. I heard someone walking out of the conference room, then calling in a pizza order.
It arrived in what seemed like five minutes. How could that have happened so fast, when Zarek’s silence seemed to be interminable?
I opened my eyes to see Zoe take two slices of supreme.
Trenda nudged a plate toward me. “Eat something.”
“I can’t,” I said.
“You need fuel,” she insisted.
“I need my husband alive.”
She didn’t argue with that. On the screen the dot came to a stop in I-75. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“Bumper-to-bumper traffic,” Code said. “Must be a wreck ahead.”
“We’re behind schedule,” one of the men in the car said.
“Atlanta traffic,” another replied. “What’d you expect?”
Zarek spoke up. “Since I know it’s Atlanta, can I take the blindfold off yet?”
“No,” came the reply.
Another half hour went by, then I watched as the dot took an exit a half hour before downtown. We watched it go through side streets, then it stopped.
“We’re in an old industrial area. Looks like it’s been shut down for thirty years,” Code said.
“Check it out—there’s a guard with a functioning electric entrance around that warehouse.” Kai or Beau said.
My heart hammered so loud I could hear it in my ears.
“That’s the drop,” Code said quietly.
On the audio feed, I heard a car door open.
“Now can I take off the blindfold?” Zarek asked. He was trying to be funny. He should just be quiet. He shouldn’t make anyone angry.
“When we get you to the locker room,” one of the two men said.
Simon walked back into the room.
“Atlanta’s looped in,” he said. “They’re moving.”
I heard a heavy door open. “Welcome,” a woman said. “I’ll meet you in back. First I need to greet the last of our guests.”
Zoe and I stared at one another. The broker was a woman?
More footsteps. “Now. Now you can take off your blindfold.”
“Pretty swanky digs for a locker room,” Zarek said. “Where’s the other guy?”
“He has his own changing room.”
“Suit up.”
I heard the sound of rustling clothing. Then there was the distinctive click of high heels.
“Take off the tape. Our guests can’t see damaged merchandise,” the woman said.
I shuddered at her using the term merchandise to describe my husband. There was silence.
“Just throw it over there,” she said. “Then we need to have a little conversation before you get into the cage.” My blood ran cold.
I heard the rumble of Zarek’s voice, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying.
My head whipped around and I pinned Simon with a glare. “When are your friends going to raid the place?”
“Soon,” he said. “They want her to give her pitch, and the fight to start, then they’ll go in.”
“What do you mean they want the fight to start? Call them back and make them go in now. Have our guys go in. Make it stop right now!” I yelled.
“It’s going to be fine, Chloe. Zarek’s going to be fine.”
I was so mad I was shaking.
That’s not true. I was scared out of my mind.