17. Dax #2
Nodding, I just humored him. “Yeah, that’s what they all say, but you know what I’ve learned?
You can always get people to talk if you have the right motivation.
The tricky thing for you is you’re only motivated by power and recognition, which I’m not going to give you either.
Either way, I’m just going to give this a shot. ”
“Go ahead, I ain’t got nothing to say to you,” Franco muttered.
“Oh, by the way, do you have your cell on you?” I asked offhandedly.
Franco instantly moved to check his back pocket then froze his gaze, flicking up to me, clearly understanding what he’d just done.
“You were right, you didn’t need to say anything,” I pointed out. “Cam, help me flip this asshole over.”
Stepping off his chest, Cam grabbed Franco’s left arm and yanked, roughly slamming the man on his face. “Ah fuck, goddamn cocksucking bastards. Do you know who I am?”
“Oh, I’m well aware of who you are, Franco,” I answered, grabbing his wallet and then his phone from the other pocket. “You never answered my question, though.”
“I told you I—”
“Ain’t telling me shit, yeah, yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “It’s fine. I am eighty-five percent certain you’re the one who tried to blow me up. What I’m now interested in is why? Did you do it to weaken Tommaso, or did Marco ask you for a favor since I cut off his legs here in the US?”
Something seemed to change in Franco like he was finally realizing who I was.
Obviously, there was more than one person he’d tried to blow up this week if that hadn’t clued him in.
It was apparent that while Franco was ruthless, blood-thirsty, and a little nuts, he didn’t have the smarts. Guess that’s what Mariana meant before.
“You’re that bitch Marco’s been trying to get rid of,” Franco accused as he wriggled to get free, but Cam wasn’t letting him move a muscle as he planted his foot in the middle of his back. “Just because you take me out doesn’t mean you have a chance in hell getting to him.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” I commented as I held up his phone. “You mentioned that he called you. Even if he used a burner phone, we can ping what cell towers were used and give us an area to start looking for him. You’ve just been ever so helpful, Franco.”
“Dax,” Eagle bellowed as he rounded the corner. “What the hell is going on? Who the fuck is that?”
The rest of my guys were right behind him, all armed with guns.
“This is Franco,” I said, gesturing to the wriggling man. “Franco, these are my husbands you tried to blow up the other night.”
“I never admitted to that,” Franco snapped.
He had a point, not once had he admitted it. “Fine, you haven’t fessed up to it, but I bet if we ask Alvaro, he’ll tell us.”
“He won’t be able to tell you shit. That boy is a fucking pussy and could never have the stomach it takes to do what needs doing.
No, that gets left to me. Someone has to do the dirty work, and I find that knowing they see the bomb before it goes off tells them just who the fuck sent it,” Franco announced.
Frowning, I looked at Cam. “What’s he talking about?”
“He’s saying he leaves a signature on all his bombs, so people know who sent it to them,” Cam explained.
I thought about the bomb and couldn’t see anything about it that would be left as a calling card. “Well, it’s not a good one because I don’t remember anything about that bomb other than it was on a fucking bed of lettuce.”
Franco snorted. “You think I’m stupid enough to put my mark on a bomb that the FBI was going to get their hands on? Nah, I made that one totally different so they couldn’t connect it back to me.”
“Wait, the bomb you sent to our room with that poor waiter I had to shoot? What did he ever do to deserve the fate of being blown up?” I inquired.
“Bastard ran like a scared little bitch when Tommaso stormed in and took over the offices that morning. He was supposed to be my eyes and ears even though I knew Marco had his own plant in place,” Franco rambled.
Cognac looked at the man like he had two heads then met my gaze. “Is this man for real, loba? Why does he just keep talking? Soon he’s going to tell us his bank account and Social Security numbers.”
“Hey, I’m not gonna stop the idiot,” I said with a shrug. “Right now, he’s making my job really easy. Wes, heads up,” I called, tossing over the phone and wallet. “Marco called him and told him to bring his mother back home to Mexico.”
“This gives a continent to start looking at… that’s something,” Wes muttered as he messed with the phone. “You have to be kidding. What the fuck, man? Why don’t you have a lock on your phone? What kind of criminal are you?”
Cam grabbed the back of Franco’s shirt and hauled him up then shoved him into the wall. “Can one of you grab the restraints our dead orderly has in his hands? I feel like the FBI is going to really enjoy having a long conversation with Franco. We’ll just call it my parting gift.”
Sprocket headed back to Nate and grabbed the restraints. As those two worked at getting Franco secure, I looked down the hall to where Mariana’s room was. “Cam, Sprocket, you good?”
“Go, little demon. I’ll make sure he doesn’t get away while the others go with you,” Void offered.
“Subtle,” I commented but didn’t argue as I waved the others to follow me. “What took you guys so long to get here? I thought the moment an active shooter was announced, you’d be on my ass in a second.”
“Trust me, we would have, but it seems that Franco had extra help in this plan,” Picasso shared. “There were about six others with him, and they were in different wings of the facility, making it so the security team locked everything down until it was contained.”