39. Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Finn
T hree cars in total. Two are Thomas’s, and the third must be a PLA junker. Lorcan, me, and Thomas’s men are piecing together what we think happened based on tread marks on the ground and the crash sites. Except for the driver of the vehicle we suspect had Carys, the men were shot execution-style while inside their vehicles. None of them escaped.
Definitely an ambush.
My pulse pounds with frustration, outright anger, and dread. Was Carys hurt? There’s a trickle of blood in the back seat. She’s still got a broken wrist. Helplessness threatens to get a foothold. I’ve got no space for that useless emotion. I must get her back.
If she wasn’t hurt, what does the PLA intend to do with her? Where have they got her? If they wanted her dead, they could have shot her here. They either want something from her, or there’s a performance aspect to killing or injuring her. Jade likes to create fear.
She’s got my attention, but I’m not afraid yet, just unbelievable angry. At least Carys is alive. We need to figure out Jade’s plan before Carys suffers.
Lorcan’s shoulder brushes mine. “I reckon we should go back to Thomas and regroup. Nothing on the driver of the PLA car or in the car itself.”
“I told her not to leave. I told her. I warned her I had a bad feeling, and she still went.”
“Aye,” he agrees. “She shouldn’t have gone, but Carys has a soft spot for her da’, yeah?”
“Unfortunately,” I grit out. Too much softness for too many people. Anger courses through me, and I shake out my arms, flexing and releasing my hands.
On Thomas’s advice, one of the guards calls the cops to report the shootings. They’re staying here to handle the questions and payoffs. Not how I’d normally suggest doing things, but my only concern right now is Carys. Where have they taken her? How can I get her back?
I’m not going to let myself dwell on any outcome that doesn’t bring her to me alive and well. No matter what I have to do, where I have to go, or who I have to demolish, she’ll be alive and unharmed by the end. That’s the only satisfactory resolution, and I’m clinging to it. If I don’t, I’ll sink into inaction. Blame myself for not sending her to Boston when my gut told me it was time to let her go.
We climb into the SUV and head for Dublin. My heart is lodged in my throat. I’m not a crier, but these emotions are welling up in me at once. I should have made her go to Boston with Lucas. Selfish and stupid and careless. The whole ride, my thoughts race with possible scenarios—locations, tactics, outcomes. The whirlwind of possibilities doesn’t help my mental state.
“How are you holding up?” Lorcan asks when we turn onto Thomas’s street.
“How would you be holding up if this was Kim?”
“I’d be furious and petrified,” Lorcan answers as though he’s imagined this scenario so many times, he’s lived it.
“Then I don’t suppose I need to tell you.”
“Ah, right.” He gives me a pensive look. “See, I thought you said we should have talked more?” We’re through Thomas’s gates and at the front door. Lorcan shifts the SUV into park.
There’s a hint of teasing in his voice, but I’m not in the mood for him to lessen my dark cloud. She’s gone, and until she’s back where she belongs, I’m not discussing my feelings. “We’re men of action.” I throw open the door. “Right now, I’m feeling murderous—all my feelings and actions rolled into one. How about that?”
When the guards try to lay their hands on me to check for weapons, I let out a string of curse words so loud and aggressive Thomas appears in the entry behind his men with his dogs.
“Leave them,” he says.
The guard raises his hands in surrender, and I storm past him and the low growls of the German shepherds into the living room. There are no words for the depth of my anger. I told Thomas, and I sure as hell told Carys, to stay at the house. Her father could have called her on his deathbed, and I’d have tied her to a chair rather than let her go.
“You had to know it was a trap.” I take the whiskey off the sideboard and pour myself a generous glass.
“Which is why I sent her in armored cars with seven of my best men. She’s a grown woman, and she insisted. I’m not in the business of restraining women.” Thomas’s jaw is tight.
Kim appears in the doorway, and Lorcan loops his arm around her waist, kisses her temple. The sight of them together makes my chest squeeze as though in a vice.
“What’d the CIA say?” I ask, gulping my drink. “Do they have a beat on where Jade took Carys?”
“No.” She leans into Lorcan. “We’re working under the assumption, at this point, that the bombs will go off in sync the day of the grand opening.”
“Logic has no place with Jade,” I mutter. “She’s just as likely to set them off tomorrow because she can. We’ve got no firm hour or date.” I rub my face, and for the first time since Carys dragged me out of the warehouse, I don’t have a clue how to fix this mess. Jay is recovering upstairs. The CIA knows nothing. The Volkovs already tried to hurt Carys and are repaying me with protection. Thomas doesn’t know any more than me. “Thomas, have you got any favors you can call in? Any ears to the ground? Someone’s gotta know something.”
“I made some calls as soon as I realized she was ambushed. I didn’t get anywhere.”
“Your brothers?” Every option has to be exhausted.
“Their connections are my connections, I’m afraid.” He grimaces.
I leave the room and take the stairs in twos to find Jay. He’s sleeping, but I don’t care. He’d want to be told. I touch his shoulder, and he wakes, his gaze unfocused for a moment.
“Finn?”
“Carys has been taken by the PLA. I need contact options and people to call. Someone who’ll know something.”
Jay tries to sit up and groans at the motion. He eases both hands over his face and doesn’t say anything for so long I think I’m going to have to repeat my demand.
“Evander Williams. He’s the most connected guy I ever met. If anyone knows anything, it’ll be him. Or he’ll know who to call to get information.”
“Except he fucked up my escape,” I scoff.
“Yeah, he did,” Jay agrees. “So, maybe he’ll be motivated to make it right. His contact info is in my phone.” He nods to the device on his bedside table.
Ah, hell. What have I got to lose? We’re out of legitimate leads. Might as well call the guy who set this whole shitshow in progress. I snatch Jay’s phone off the nightstand. “I’ll bring this back later.”
I’m out of his room and sailing down the stairs before he can respond. We need a list of questions for Evander before I reach out. At the bottom, I freeze at the familiar and unwelcome face in the hallway.
“Thomas!” I holler, not acknowledging our intruder. Not that I would have considered him much of a threat before. I’ve still got my gun, and I drop Jay’s phone into my pocket, and then take my gun from the small of my back to point at Daniel. “What are you doing here?”
Thomas peers around the edge of the stairs. “Don’t shoot him or me.” He steps out and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Though I was sorely tempted not to let him in. He’s been thoroughly searched. Twice. Made him strip too which is why he’s in his boxers.”
His lack of clothing registers. Not sure I’d have noticed if he’d been naked. “Where’s Carys?”
“Can we sit? I haven’t got much time.” Daniel’s hands are raised, but his usual dopey demeanor is absent, sly cunning in its place.
“Is this a trap, Thomas?”
“Unlikely. Says he’s from the Directorate of Military Intelligence. Supersecret government agency. Not exactly a person welcome in my home.”
“He’s also one of Pierre-Jacques’s men.” I narrow my gaze and come down the stairs, my gun still trained on Daniel.
“I reckon that means the Irish are better than the Americans at planting spies.” He winks at me.
I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. He’s going to joke with me when Carys is missing? He must still be high. “I reckon that means I can shoot you and bury your body in the backyard and your government will pretend like it never happened.”
Daniel pales. “Look, mate, I came here with information for ye. The Irish don’t work with the CIA normally, but your reputation as a man who gets jobs done can’t be denied.”
I nudge him toward the living room where Lorcan and Kim are sitting next to each other on the couch. They both rise at the sight of Daniel. Apparently, Thomas was the only one in the greeting party.
“What’s he doing here?” Lorcan steps in front of Kim blocking Daniel from getting much of a look.
“Military Intelligence for Ireland,” I say. “He’s got information for us.”
“And not a lot of time.” He keeps his hands up. “Jade’s plan is to have the bombs go off around the world, starting with the one in Cork in a few hours. She’s got Carys, Charles Van de Berg, and Opal Van de Berg somewhere in the building. The exact moment for the bomb is unknown.”
“The CIA has information on the other bombs, and they’ll put people in place to dismantle them,” Kim says. “You don’t have a firm timeline?”
“No, but they’re at Van de Berg properties. She wants to annihilate the family. Wipe them clean off the planet.”
My blood chills. Lucas. “Was a bomb sent to Boston recently?”
“You’re worried about the wee lad? Last I heard, she hadn’t been able to get to him. Semyon’s throwing his full weight behind your family. Wouldn’t budge on turning them over or giving her access to the kid.”
Thank Christ for that. Semyon is such a weasel, I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear I’d been outmaneuvered with favors or money.
Kim takes her phone out of her pocket, and I point my finger at her. “Until we’ve got Carys, they can’t raid the other buildings. It’ll tip off the PLA, and they might move her, or shorten the detonation on any of the bombs.”
She hesitates and slides her phone into her coat. “Then I’ll wait to reach out.”
Daniel eases his raised hands. “The task force is raiding the building in Cork in three and a half hours. If traffic is good, you can make it there. They won’t be keen to let you join, but they won’t want you to screw anything up either.”
“Saddle up, people.” I stride toward the entrance. I haven’t got time to fact-check Daniel’s claims or to make more phone calls to ensure his lead isn’t a decoy. He’s different enough standing in front of us—coherent, thoughtful, specific—to make me believe he was playing a part in the mansion. I’ll have to trust he’s not running interference for the Irish intelligence. A bit of false information could send us far from the main event.
Bad for my deal with the CIA. Bad for Daniel when I hunt him and kill him for making it impossible for me to rescue Carys.
Everyone trails behind me, and when we get to the main entrance, Daniel’s clothes are stacked in a neat pile. “If you’re lying to me, I will leave no stone unturned to find you. The job I’ll be getting done is removing your head from your shoulders.”
“I’m not lying to you, mate. She’s in Cork inside the new Van de Berg build, and in three and a half hours, Irish intelligence will be laying siege to it.”
“Not if I get there first,” I say. “Thomas, I need your men, and we need to be armed to the teeth.”