Chapter 9
Ice Pick
Condor finds it three hours after Castellano's call.
A property registered under one of the deeper shell companies, buried so far in the corporate structure that it took cross-referencing six different databases to locate.
It's a warehouse on the outskirts of the city, supposedly used for industrial storage but with utility usage that suggests someone's living there.
"That's it," Ava says, leaning over Condor's shoulder to study the satellite imagery. "It's isolated, secure, easy to control access. It’s the perfect place to hold a hostage."
"Or it's a decoy." Falcon's studying the layout with tactical eyes. "Castellano knows we're looking for him. This could be another trap."
"We can't afford not to check it out. Sarah's been missing for four hours. Every minute counts." Ava's voice is tight with desperation, and I can see her unraveling at the edges. "If there's even a chance she's there, we have to go."
"We will. But we do it smart." I pull up building schematics that Condor managed to hack from the city's permit database. "Two entrances, front and back. Windows on the second floor but they're barred. If Sarah's inside, they'll have her somewhere secure, probably the basement level."
"The FBI should handle this," Agent Forrister says through the conference call Sterling set up. "You're civilians. Going in armed could compromise any prosecution."
"With respect, Agent Forrister, your people walked into a trap last night. You’re three agents down." Vulture’s tone is hard. "We're not risking more federal casualties. We'll scout the location, verify if Sarah's there, and then we'll coordinate with you on extraction."
"That's not how this works."
"It's how it's working tonight." He ends the call before she can argue further. "Alright, brothers. Falcon, Zip, Rook, you're with me and Ice Pick. Sterling, you coordinate here with Condor. Hustler, you're on perimeter watch. I want to know if anyone approaches this compound."
"What about me?" Ava asks, already knowing the answer but asking anyway.
"You stay here. No arguments." I catch her arm before she can protest. "I can't do what needs to be done if I'm worried about you. Please, Ava, let me bring Sarah home."
The war on her face is visible. She wants to argue, wants to demand to come along, wants to be part of rescuing her friend. But she also knows I'm right. Bringing a civilian into what's essentially a combat situation is asking for casualties.
"Fine," she says finally. "But you call me the second you have her. I don't care if you're in the middle of a firefight, you let me know she's okay."
"Deal."
I kiss her hard, pouring every promise I can't voice into the press of my mouth against hers, and then I'm pulling away before I can change my mind about leaving her behind.
We gear up in silence, each of us knowing this could go sideways fast. Body armor under our cuts, weapons checked and loaded, comms tested.
Zip's carrying enough firepower to take down a small army, and Rook's got his usual assortment of knives and improvised explosives that technically aren't legal but definitely get the job done.
The ride to the warehouse takes twenty minutes through evening traffic.
We park three blocks away and approach on foot, using the industrial landscape as cover.
The building looks exactly like the satellite images showed, dingy and forgotten, but there are lights on inside and a black SUV parked near the loading dock.
"Someone's home," Zip mutters through the comm.
"Condor, you getting anything on thermal?" Falcon asks.
"Four heat signatures inside. Two on the ground floor, one in the basement, one on the second floor." Condor's voice crackles through our earpieces. "Based on movement patterns, the basement signature's stationary. Could be your hostage."
"Could also be a guard taking a shit," Rook points out.
"Only one way to find out." I move toward the back entrance, my weapon up and ready. "Falcon, you and Zip take the front. Vulture, Rook, you're with me. We go in quiet, neutralize any hostiles, and secure Sarah."
"And if it's a trap?" Zip asks.
"Then we shoot our way out and regroup." Vulture’s voice is grim. "Let's move."
Rook and I reach the back door, and he makes quick work of the lock with tools that probably started life as legitimate locksmithing equipment. The door swings open silently, revealing a dark hallway that reeks of mold and old concrete.
We move through the building like ghosts, clearing rooms as we go. The first guard's on the second floor, smoking a cigarette near a window and completely oblivious to our presence until Rook's got a knife to his throat.
"Where's the girl?" I ask quietly, my gun pressed against his temple.
"Basement, but you'll never get to her. Boss's got the place wired." His smile's ugly even with a blade at his jugular. "You're all dead men."
"We'll take our chances." Rook applies pressure until the guard passes out, and we secure him with zip ties before moving to the basement stairs.
The door's locked, heavy steel that suggests whatever's down there is valuable. I key my comm. "Falcon, we've got a secured basement door. Guard mentioned the place is wired."
"Copy that. Condor, can you access their security system?"
"Working on it. Give me two minutes."
We don't have two minutes. Sarah's been in Castellano's hands for hours, and every second increases the chance he'll hurt her or move her to another location. But rushing in blind could trigger explosives like the ones that killed that FBI agent.
"Fuck it," Rook says, pulling out a small device. "This'll override the electronic lock without triggering secondary systems. Probably."
"Probably?"
"Ninety percent sure." He grins. "Good enough odds."
He attaches the device to the lock, and circuits fry with a smell like burning plastic. The door clicks open, and we're moving down the stairs before anyone inside can react.
The basement's one large room, concrete floors and exposed pipes, and Sarah's in the center tied to a chair.
She's got duct tape over her mouth and terror in her eyes, but she's alive and appears unharmed.
A single guard stands near her, and he's reaching for his weapon when I put two rounds in his chest.
He goes down hard, and Sarah's screaming through the tape. I'm at her side in seconds, pulling the tape off as gently as I can.
"Are you hurt?" I ask, checking her for injuries while Rook clears the rest of the space.
"No. I’m scared but not hurt." Her words tumble out fast. "They grabbed me when I went outside. I just wanted fresh air for five minutes, and they were waiting. There was a van, they threw a bag over my head, and when I could see again I was here."
"How many people?"
"Three. The one you shot and two others who left an hour ago. Said they had to report to the boss."
"Did they say where Castellano is?"
"No, but I heard them talking about an airfield. They said the boss was leaving tonight, that this was the last job before they got paid and disappeared."
The Illinois airfield. We were right he's running, and he's tying up loose ends before he goes.
"Clear," Rook announces. "No other hostiles, no secondary explosives that I can see."
I cut Sarah's restraints and help her stand, catching her when her legs nearly give out. "Can you walk?"
"I think so." She's shaking, adrenaline and fear making her unsteady. "Is Ava okay? They didn't hurt her?"
"She's safe at the compound. Scared out of her mind for you, but safe." I key my comm. "Falcon, we've got Sarah. One hostile down, two others fled. We're exfiling now."
"Copy. Meet at the bikes. Sterling just got word from Agent Forrister. They've got eyes on the Illinois airfield. Private jet's being prepped for departure in two hours."
"Then we need to move. If Castellano gets on that plane, we lose him."
We get Sarah out of the warehouse and back to the bikes without incident. She's never been on a motorcycle before, and the terror on her face when I tell her she's riding with me would be funny under different circumstances.
"Just hold on tight and trust me," I tell her, helping her onto the bike behind me.
"That's what Ava said about you, that I should trust you." She wraps her arms around my waist with a death grip. "She really loves you, you know. I've never seen her like this about anyone."
"The feeling's mutual."
We ride back to the compound with Sarah holding on for dear life, and the moment we're through the gates, Ava's running out of the clubhouse like her life depends on it. She reaches us before I've even killed the engine, pulling Sarah off the bike and into a hug that's tight enough to bruise.
"I'm so sorry," Ava's saying, her voice breaking. "This is my fault, all of it. I should've protected you better."
"Stop. This isn't your fault." Sarah pulls back, wiping tears from her face. "That monster Castellano, he's the one responsible. You're just trying to stop him."
"And I will. I promise you, Sarah. He's going to pay for this."
I let them have their moment, watching Ava reassure her friend while simultaneously falling apart herself. The guilt's eating her alive, I can see it in every line of her body, and there's nothing I can say to make it better except to finish this.
Falcon approaches, his expression grim. "Agent Forrister's coordinating with Illinois field offices. They're moving on the airfield in ninety minutes. She wants us there as backup."
"Then we ride." I look at Ava, seeing the determination warring with fear in her eyes. "You're staying here with Sarah."
"Like hell I am." She stands, crossing to me with fire in her expression. "Castellano threatened my best friend, tried to use her to silence me. I'm going to be there when they take him down."
"It's too dangerous."