Chapter Thirty-Two
San Bernardino, California.
“S o, tell me how you know this place,” he said, heading down the freeway just past the San Bernardino County line.
“I’ve been trying to find the boys, well, some of them are men now, and help them survive.”
“That’s what you were talking about at the smoke shop when you said we were naive to think Solomon didn’t have help.”
“I had only found out about Tanis just before I ran into you there.” Fisher rubbed a hand over his face. “I was still in shock. I don’t have all the facts. I don’t know if Solomon continued doing business with Tanis after Rogue killed him.”
“What? Killed who?”
“Rogue shot Tanis, thought the guy was dead, and Solomon confirmed it.”
“He lied,” Justice murmured.
“Solomon was a master of lies.”
“He’s dead and we’ll kill all of his partners.” He took Fisher’s hand to bring his attention to him. The look that came over Fisher’s face when he talked about Tanis wasn’t one he wanted to see.
What he wanted was to see the look on Fisher’s face when they finally ended Tanis.
A sudden thought occurred. “Does Tanis have other partners besides Blue and Crow?”
“I found out from a guy, a teenager actually, that Blue was running boys. That’s how Blue ended up on my radar.”
“Where’s this teenager?”
“At the address we’re going to see.”
Shit. Justice pressed the gas and his truck raced down the freeway.
Crime tape surrounded the scene when Justice rolled up on it fifteen minutes later. He kept going and parked his truck around the block.
The place sat in a rundown area on the outskirts of the city.
Their visibility was a problem, so Justice took care of that by shooting the street light out in the front and then again in the alleyway behind the tall concrete wall that butted up against the backyard fence.
Fisher walked silently at his side. The man hadn’t said a word after their conversation and Justice wondered if he was in shock.
He missed his dog, but he’d left Axel at home because he wasn’t sure what he and Fisher were walking into.
Per the orders he’d received via text from Dave, he and Fisher were to keep their surveillance under the radar. Dave did not want law enforcement to know they were at this scene.
Reaching the back porch, Justice sliced down the evidence tape that sealed the back door shut and popped the lock. The door clicked open along with a slight groan. He paused, nothing but silence came from within.
A dog barked a few houses over, but other than that, all was silent at five o’clock in the morning.
Fisher pulled his silencer from a hip holster.
Easing out his B CSI had taken the bedding for evidence. On the floor near the bed lay a blood-sprayed teddy bear.
Had a child been involved? There was no second chalk outline, but the child could have been on the bed.
Fucking animals.
The teenager was an unknown. All he knew from the text police report from Dave was that he was male and roughly nineteen.
“What was his name?”
“Ryan.” Fisher launched into the room and started searching beneath the bed and yanking out clothes in the closet before he left the room and went into the bathroom.
Justice followed just in time to see Fisher open the cupboards beneath the sink and yank back the shower curtain.
“What are you looking for?”
“Mikey.”
“Who’s Mikey?”
“He’s nine. Ryan took him from Blue when he escaped.”
“So, did Blue have his own operation going?” Justice asked just to clarify.
“I don’t know. Maybe? He’s dead so we can’t ask.”
“How did Ryan escape from Blue?”
“That part is unclear and Ryan never was a talker. What I do recall was that he was talking to some guy named Crow, so maybe that’s who did this.” Fisher ran a hand down his face.
“Maybe,” Justice murmured.
When the living room floorboard creaked, Justice shut off his penlight and put a finger to his lips.
He lifted his silencer in his cupped hands and brought it to eye level and stepped out into the hallway with Fisher at his six.
Whoever had entered was hella quiet.
Maybe another assassin?
Damn it.
“Justice?”
“Shit,” he breathed when Steel called his name. “It’s Steel,” he told Fisher and lowered his gun.
His friend stepped into the hallway.
“Next time, text me,” Justice growled.
“Oops.” Steel reached him and Fisher. “I’m Steel.”
“Fisher.”
With the pleasantries over, Justice gestured to the bedroom, and Steel stopped at the doorway, giving a heavy sigh. The man shook his head and then crouched down next to the chalk outline.
“How’d you find out about this?” Justice asked.
“Dave called Real,” Steel said, standing and checking the contents on the dresser.
“So, this was a hit,” Fisher said, his voice tight as he walked back into the room.
“Hell if I know,” Steel said. “But Real did say there’s some outliers roaming around.”
Fisher squinted at Steel. “What kind of outliers are you talking about? The ones that did this?”
“Apparently.”
“What aren’t you telling us?” Justice narrowed his lids to slits, trying to decipher his friend’s expression.
“This was probably done by one of Solomon’s boys.” Steel pointed at the chalk marks.
“No fucking way,” Fisher snapped.
“Yes fucking way,” Steel murmured.
“The boys trained by Solomon fucking Mercy? No,” Justice added and placed a hand on Fisher’s arm before he could clock Steel.
“Same signature,” Steel pointed out. The man moved over to crouch next to the chalk mark. “I read the police report. One bullet center of the forehead, point blank. This was a hit.”
It figured Steel would have those kinds of connections; the man was former CIA after the military.
“But why blame those boys? Genesis uses the same signature, center of the forehead,” Justice pointed out.
Steel snorted. “From the police report, it was a nine-millimeter. We don’t use those, but some of Solomon’s boys do.”
Fisher crossed his arms and scowled. “That’s bullshit. I don’t use that type of weapon and neither does Echo or Rogue.”
“What about Cash, Apollo, or Azrael?” Steel said.
“They didn’t fucking do this.” Fisher’s glare could peel paint from the side of a building.
“So, what are you thinking?” Steel walked from the dresser over to the closet to search.
“This has Tanis written all over it,” Fisher said.
Justice spotted several crayons scattered along with paper drawings on top of a small desk with the name Mikey scrawled on them. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned away from the colorful pictures.
“I’m just sayin’. We need to think of all possibilities,” Steel said, standing from his crouch.
He didn’t believe it. There was no way that any of the boys they had saved from Solomon’s locations would do this. Hell, most of those young adults had been captured as children and forced to become killers by that fucking asshole. The son of a bitch had gotten poetic justice though—one of his own had killed him.
“I’m telling you those boys wouldn’t do this.” Justice shook his head.
“I agree,” Fisher said. “If we’re done here, I need to find Mikey.”
On those words, Fisher stepped down the hallway and Justice followed with Steel in the rear.
When Fisher stopped moving, Justice bumped against the man’s back.
“Don’t fucking move,” a deep voice said.
The next second, Justice realized their conversation had muted the sounds of the house being entered.
It wasn’t a lone gunman either.
They were faced with darkly dressed men with military gear and automatic weapons.