Chapter 31 Maverick
MAVERICK
There was no physical pain capable of stopping me from ending the emotional upheaval of Payton’s absence.
She was the only thing that had kept me sane during my recovery.
A couple of weeks were not enough to heal me, but it would have to.
I tightened my bulletproof vest so it covered all my vital organs and checked to ensure Reed and Tarron had done the same.
It was our own damned fault we’d gotten shot at the cabin. We never should have let our guard down, even with the storm keeping us safe.
“That’s all I needed. Thanks, Sam.” Reed ended his call and shoved the phone into a pocket before checking his vest and weapons. He nodded at me. “It’s confirmed. Sam used his drone to fly over the area.”
We’d put all of our considerable skills to the test for this.
Tracking down Payton became our number one priority.
Jack had her. We all knew it.
He was the only one idiotic enough to make a second go at her.
Especially now that he thought we were dead.
I gripped the edges of my vest and tugged, twisting my torso as much as I could without debilitating pain.
“Plan?” Tarron stopped in front of the metal table where our information lay strewn across the gray surface.
We’d holed up in an old house near Payton’s, one that Reed found through one of his contacts and managed to get us a short-term lease as our base of operations.
I scanned the information we’d gathered, including a list of all known—and hidden—buildings that Jack owned or had been seen in.
We’d moved from there to known associates, tracking his movements since he left the rangers.
Things moved quickly once we had a clear lead from another former ranger who’d been part of Jack’s team for a while but had decided the man’s tactics were too brutal for his tastes.
That conversation turned up the heat.
We’d already been going at full strength to find Payton, but thinking about all the things Jack could be doing to her in the meantime had us sick to our stomachs.
I ran the back of my hand over my mouth. “We approach from this direction. The blueprints show three exits. We circle around and see if he has any men guarding the place.”
“Taking them out?” Reed stuck his thumbs in the shoulder openings of his vest and narrowed his eyes at the blueprints.
I did my best to consider all sides of the situation.
“Not permanently. Going in silently is our best chance at success. Take them down, then prep them for the police to pick up. Jack, though…” I bit down on the rush of bile. “We’ll see how it goes.”
My chest throbbed from a mixture of physical and emotional pain. Payton. We had to get to her, no matter what.
“Truck’s ready.” Reed jerked his elbow toward the front door that led to an abandoned parking lot where we’d stashed the old car he bought off a used lot yesterday.
The rusted sedan gave us anonymity, and based on the location where we were headed, it wouldn’t stand out.
We hauled everything into the car, and Reed hopped into the driver’s seat, holding up a hand when I tried to protest. “No way in hell, man. I’m the most healed. I get driving privileges.”
Couldn’t exactly argue with that.
I climbed into the back, letting Tarron take shotgun.
Reed took his time approaching the outer slums of New York.
The view changed slowly at first, going from shops and fancy apartments to dimly lit alleys shadowed by dumpsters where men and women lingered in the dark despite the sunlight the sidewalk offered.
One entire block held nothing but rows of tents along the alleys. Glass was either broken out of the buildings or covered with cardboard held on with duct tape.
Empty bottles and wrappers were trapped in the space between the road and the sidewalk, clogging the drains and backing up into the street.
“Almost there.” Reed flicked on his blinker and eased around the corner after checking the coordinates on his phone.
He pulled over and parked, and his hand hovered over the keys. “You know there’s a good chance the car won’t be here when we come back.”
“It will be.” I opened the door, wincing at the creak. “There’s no one else around here. Jack would have made sure.” He was an asshole, but he knew how to run an operation.
I took my pack from the trunk and strapped on additional weapons. “Let’s go get Payton.”
We crouch-walked our way down the street, turning left at the corner.
At the end of the block, three men stood guard outside a steel door.
They stood in a group, guns slung around behind them and heads bent together.
“This’ll be fun.” Tarron nudged me and grinned. “Left, right, or center?”
I took in the group, the lack of structure to their setup, and matched Tarron’s smile. “Looks like ole Jack can’t keep good help. I’ll take left.”
“I get the guy on the right.” Reed cracked his knuckles. “I remember him. We have a thing that needs clearing up.”
We tapped knuckles and broke apart. My heart drummed a steady beat in time with my measured steps.
No time for adrenaline to kick my ass.
I funneled it into giving me a fuck-all attitude that shut off my emotions and pain and let me do the job.
The guys ahead never saw us coming.
Whoever trained them did a shit job, or they simply couldn’t be bothered enough to obey Jack’s orders.
I cracked the rifle stock against the big blonde’s head, and he dropped like a stone.
Between the reinforced zip ties I put on his wrists and ankles and the fact I tied him up at the side of the building in one of my best hog ties, he was going abso-fucking-nowhere.
Reed held the door open for me and Tarron.
I ducked left, he took right, and Reed went down the center.
We kept our steps light and quick, clearing the first floor in under a minute.
When we reconvened at the door, Reed angled the muzzle of his rifle toward the rickety metal steps leading up to the next level. “Up or down?”
That was our biggest hurdle.
If Jack had her on one of the upper floors, we had him pinned down.
If she was below us, and we went up first, he could sneak out if he realized his mission was compromised.
“Split up.” Tarron nudged me in the back. “Two go up. One goes down.”
“The hell we will.” Reed shouldered his rifle and scowled at Tarron.
I held up a hand to stop them. They’d kept their voices low, but it was too big a risk to keep going. “Jack’s numbers seem to have dropped off significantly, but we can’t be sure those were the only men on guard.”
“Those steps are gonna be hella loud.” Reed tipped his head toward them. “Maybe that’s the point. He’d hear anyone trying to approach.”
I scanned the hallway and the open doors that had revealed nothing more than torn-up carpet and a rat-infested hole in the wall.
The stairs barely had a railing, and a few of the steps had missing screws that allowed the metal to shimmy out of position.
I crept toward them. A steel door near the base bore the tattered remains of an old sign that looked like it used to say BASEMENT, but half the letters had either worn off or been scratched off over time.
A deep voice echoed from the other side of the door. “I’m sick to death of hearing your bitching and whining. One more word, and I’ll put the gag back in your fucking mouth.”
Adrenaline shot through me with a punch that sent my head spinning. I recognized the voice. I waved Reed and Tarron over, tapping my lips with one finger to make sure they understood the need for stealth.
“And I’m fucking telling you, that you have the wrong person. You’ve had the wrong person all along. If you want your damned ransom, you need to talk to my father, Frank Rivers.”
Payton’s fiery spirit sang in her words, in the absolute way she spoke without any trace of fear. “Whoever this arm’s dealer is that you think is my father, you’re wrong. You can send him a million ransom notes. He’s not going to answer, and he sure as hell won’t pay, because I’m not his daughter.”
She said it loud and cold, in a tone that worried me because this wasn’t the first time she’d tried this conversation.
It ended badly last time, and it would do so again.
“Then why the hell should I keep you alive?” Jack bellowed so loud the whole fucking building would have been able to hear him.
“You moron.” Payton’s ire rose, and so did her voice. “I’ve told you already. You’re too fucking stupid to listen, and that means you’ll never get your money.”
God, I wished she would take a minute to think about what she was saying. If Jack considered her a lost cause, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.
“I’m going to enjoy cutting you into tiny bits. You have no idea how immensely I’ll enjoy killing you because it will mean Maverick and his team have failed. I’ll win, once and for all.”
“And you’ll be poor as fuck because you can’t be bothered to listen to reason.” Her tone dropped into something low and melancholy, something I didn’t understand until she spoke again.
“Please don’t do this, Jack. All it would take is five seconds to Google my name. Payton Rivers. Google my name, check that I am who I say I am, and call my father.”
Fuck Jack to hell and back for making her sound so sad and alone.
I’d never heard her like this, and I hated every word leaving her mouth.
She should never have to plead for her life.
Tarron’s exhale matched Reed’s furious expression. They looked to me for the go-ahead.
I rose from my crouched position and glanced through the tiny window.
A long, gray hallway stretched toward another door.
If my memory of the layout was accurate, that way led to the second exit, one blocked by a dumpster too old and rusty to move.
Two doors cut into the wall, one on either side.
One mentioned a boiler room, and the other was storage, according to the old sign.
Their voices were too distorted to know for sure which room they came from, but the storage room was closest and far enough away from the boiler room that we should be able to check it before moving on and while keeping the main exit blocked.
I made a series of hand motions, indicating we’d go in low and quick and head straight to the storage room.
Both men nodded, and I gripped the door handle. If it made a sound, we’d tip Jack off to our presence.
We squared up at the door, Tarron and I taking the front while Reed watched our backs.
“Please.” Payton’s fear and exhaustion tugged on my heart. Something scraped on the other side of the door. It sounded like chair legs on concrete.
I should know, I’d heard it often enough throughout my career. “Please, don’t do this.”
“Let’s go.” I jerked upright, Tarron and Reed on my heels. No more caution. We knew where Jack was, and we knew the danger Payton was in.
We had one shot to finish this.
I grabbed the door, noting that it might be locked, and twisted the handle.
Nothing. No sound, but it also didn’t open.
I stepped back and nodded at Reed.
Grinning like he’d been handed the winning prize, he reared back and kicked the door open, racing through and panning the area with his rifle.
Tarron and I burst in behind him, guns up and ready.
Protect Payton.
That was our sole mission.
Protect the woman we loved.