Chapter 10
Within five minute of arriving, the Martha’s Vineyard posse took over. Dane glanced at Shana, who sat next to David in one of the three kitchen chairs. It struck him wrong to see her sitting. It struck him doubly wrong to see David slide an arm around her back.
Dane should be the one comforting her. Before the world turned dark and the longing took hold, he turned his attention away and shut down the lost boy inside him with a severe kick to his gut that he swore he could feel. Boxes and bags of food and bottled beer were spread out on the table.
Checking his watch, he said, “Better eat fast. Floyd will be calling any minute. He should be arriving at the hotel where he left us about now.”
“You’re sure he’ll call?” O’Keefe asked.
“I left him a note,” Dane said. He eyed a bottle of beer and his fingers curled into a fist. It was probably warm anyway.
Dane’s burner phone rang—the number he’d given Floyd in the note. He slipped the phone from his shirt pocket and waited for the third ring before answering. Then he put the phone to his ear and faced the room. They all watched him. Why not? It was a performance.
“Hello Floyd.”
“You goddamn son of—”
“Calm down.”
“Get your ass back here from wherever the hell you went—and bring that—”
“No, we’re not coming back there, Floyd. Change of plans.”
“Don’t you f—with me, Blaise.”
“We’ll meet you in public. In the meantime, we’re all staying somewhere else. We have a large group. Your accommodations were too small.”
“Bullshit. You’ve messed everything up. If something goes wrong with Oscar, it’s on you.”
“Whatever you say.”
“Where are you?”
This was the moment Dane had been waiting for. This was the setup, where he risked them all to prove whose side Floyd was on. He gave Floyd their location. Shana jumped up from her chair. David stood next to her.
“Set up another call for two hours from now.”
“Did I miss your promotion? You’re not the one calling the shots here?”
“Who is, Floyd? You? I thought it was the kidnappers.”
“I don’t know who the hell they are, but I have my suspicions. I’ll let them know your demands, but I can’t guarantee they’ll go along with it.”
“I’ve left some good faith money at the apartment—take a picture of it and tell them we’re prepared to pay. It’s the money they’re after, right?”
“I told you they want an exchange of assets—we need contact with someone with the authority to do that—who do you have with you?”
“We have David Young, Director of the Scotland Yard Exchange Program.”
“Who else? Tell me everyone.”
“No one else of note. A few cops, soldiers.”
“Some of your special forces pals.” Floyd wasn’t asking because he damn well knew all about Dane’s pals and he knew Dane would have brought reinforcements. That was the assumption Dane was counting on.
“Maybe.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“Takes one to know one.” Dane flicked his gaze to Shana to see her roll her eyes. He wasn’t disappointed. He smiled on the inside.
“Don’t blame me if the response is to send back a body part.”
“Don’t be melodramatic, Floyd. Just keep the Tavares clan away from us.”
“I’m flattered that you think I have such control.”
“You do. You’re the only one who knows where we are right now.”
“Now I really am flattered. That you trusted me.”
They agreed to meet at a downtown Rio government building in the first floor cafeteria. Dane had scoped it out previously and chosen it for its proximity to a police station.
Floyd ended the call. Dane didn’t like the mocking tone in his voice. He’d expected it, but it still felt bad. Sometimes he hated it when he was right about a person.
Dane tossed the phone onto the counter.
“We’re on for the meeting. Let’s set up shop.”
“Set up shop?” O’Keefe asked.
“I go along with Floyd’s plan so we can set a trap for the trappers.”
“We’re expecting a shitstorm,” Shana said to O’Keefe as he walked by. “We’re setting up watch stations and artillery.”
David said, “We expect Floyd to set us up for an ambush.”
Dane went to an innocuous-looking trunk along one wall of an almost empty room that would have been a living room if this were a normal residence.
He flipped open the trunk and took stock of what he found inside.
Numerous semiautomatic weapons, two long range rifles, Kevlar vests, backpacks stocked with bottled water and MREs, and two pairs of binoculars.
Exactly what they would need to watch for an ambush and hold out for a fight. Until they could make their escape.
“Then we have him for conspiracy to commit murder all the way up to possible espionage and treason,” Shana said.
She pushed her hair back from her face. Her skin gleamed with perspiration. She looked serious as a rattlesnake. She wanted Floyd Parker. Dane knew there was no way he’d be able to send her back to Martha’s Vineyard unless he went with her. Even once they got Floyd dead to rights.
The others followed him into the room and he started handing out equipment.
“Two of us will keep watch on the roof. The rest of you will be stationed on the inside around the perimeter. We need to engage them, but we can’t let them get inside—at least not while we’re in here.
We need them to shoot from long range so we can charge Floyd legitimately. And so that we can still get out.”
David said, “If they get close before we’re gone, we’re in trouble.”
Dane met his eyes and nodded. He’d handed out the weapons and kept a sniper rifle for himself. He’d be on the roof. He took up a pair of binoculars and looked around. No one said a word. David raised a brow in his direction. It was up to Dane to assign posts.
“You take the back window. Keep watch,” Dane said to O’Keefe. He nodded.
David handed his friend a backpack. They nodded at each other again and O’Keefe looked toward the back of the unit without a complaint.
“I’ll take the post at the front of the building,” David said. He held an automatic rifle and said, “What the hell kind of weapon is this?”
“ACR Remington Bushmaster 6.8 millimeter made in 2006,” Dane said.
He’d been here when the house had been stocked years before. He’d been certain no one knew who he was at the time—especially not the Tavares family. But he could have been wrong. Oscar was with him then. Maybe this all started back then. Maybe it was a very old vendetta.
“ACR?”
“Adaptive Combat Rifle.”
“I won’t ask what it adapts to,” O’Keefe said. He stopped fidgeting and asking questions. Dane figured he was nervous and hoped David could keep him under control.
“I’ll be on top of the building,” Dane said. “Listen for my ‘all hell is about to let loose’ signal,” Dane said.
“What’s the signal?” O’Keefe asked. Apparently, he was still nervous. David stood next to him and butted shoulders.
Dane shrugged. “I’ll yell ‘all hell is about to let loose’ and you all jump to action.”
Shana said, “I’m coming up to the roof with you. We’ll need two pairs of eyes to make sure we have plenty of lead time to get out.”
“Is there an escape hatch from this house?” David asked.
“Through the basement. I’ll be out last. We’ll cover you from the roof if we need to.”
Dane looked at Shana. “The only reason I’m letting you on the roof is so I can keep an eye on you myself.”
She passed him and took the pair of binoculars he held out to her. Toting one of the assault weapons, she trotted up the stairs. There was no heartwarming eye roll from her this time.
“How much time do you think we have?” David said.
“Within the hour. Sooner. Floyd won’t want to waste time since we already escaped once. He figures he has us where he wants us. It’s not far—maybe thirty-five minutes from the Tavares compound to here by back roads.”
David gave him a salute and Dane took two stairs at a time to reach the second floor as Shana climbed up the ladder to the roof.
Dane lifted himself through the hatch-like door in the roof and surveyed their post. There was an eight-inch tile border around the edge of the square roof perimeter.
Dane knocked the tile with the butt of his gun after he shimmied to the edge on his belly.
Decorative. He lay next to Shana at the northwest corner, looking out over the intersection of the main road.
“This edge is shit. It won’t hold up for fire cover. We’ll have to set up behind the chimney.”
“What if they approach from the back?”
“We’ll be okay—we’ll stay low. But we’re in deep trouble if they approach from more than one direction.” He looked at her. She was assessing how serious he was about the deep trouble.
Unfortunately, he was serious as hell.
“Go back to the ladder. Keep watch from there. Keep low. I’ll stay on the southwest side of the chimney. Their approach will most likely be from the north or west.”
“Or both. Or maybe the southeast.” Shana kneeled up and looked around before Dane could reach her to push her back down. She ducked from his grasp and crawled back toward the rooftop hatch and the stairs.
“We’re better off downstairs covering all approaches.”
“We won’t see a thing until they’re on top of us that way,” Dane said.
“Why don’t we leave now?” Shana said.
“Watch from another building,” Dane said. She nodded.
He decided it wasn’t cold feet, she was reviewing the plan. It hadn’t been her plan after all.
“Collateral damage needs to be minimized,” he said. “I’ll stay up here. You take everyone else down the basement through the tunnel—”
“Why do you have to stay?”
“Someone has to catch them red-handed. We need them to take some shots. I don’t mind firing first to draw their fire. But I have to catch them far enough out.”
“You’re crazy—you know that?” Shana had climbed halfway back down the hatch, but no further. She raised binoculars to her eyes.
“Move it—that’s an order.”
“Too bad I’m not in the army. And you’re not my boss.”
He was about to push her down the ladder when he saw her stiffen. He raised his binoculars and looked to the northwest corner, focusing the lens for a thousand yards.
“Do you see it?”
“Yes. I’m not blind.”