Chapter Six #3
He had to ask himself if Waylon would waste even more manpower on a hunch.
That wasn’t logical. Waylon had been at this a long time.
It was obvious he’d been in the military, and he knew strategy.
That was why he was leading the team. Waylon would know Lyric wasn’t with him.
Keys couldn’t afford to haul her around with him.
Two people left far more tracks than one.
Waylon would move heaven and earth to find where Keys had stashed her. He figured with Lyric as their hostage, they would be able to draw Keys out into the open. It might work with other men, but he knew the moment he was taken, both Lyric and he were dead. He wasn’t the give-himself-up type.
It was nearly fifteen minutes later that the second pair, the backups, made their appearance.
He recognized Koda and Jay immediately. They came out of the dense forest, six feet apart, weapons at the ready, moving with purpose.
They knew what they were doing, not making a sound, two ghosts moving in unison while staying feet apart.
Both studied the ground for tracks as they went, but they didn’t stop moving.
Keys fell in behind them. Justin and King had a fifteen-minute head start, but they didn’t bother to hide their tracks. They took the largest game trail that provided them with the fastest route to the next rendezvous spot, the peak where Keys had made the phone call.
Keys got his first break when Koda crouched low to study one of the smaller bushes to the left of the game trail.
The leaves on the bush were bruised, and two of the thin branches were snapped nearly in half.
Koda touched the leaves and looked around him.
Keys clamped one hand over his mouth like a vise and slammed the blade of his knife into the back of his skull all the way to the hilt, severing the spinal cord.
He lowered him slowly to the ground and quickly availed himself of Koda’s gear, his radio and semiautomatic.
It was loud and a bit overkill, but Keys slung it over his shoulder and faded back into the woods to stalk Jay.
Jay became aware that his partner hadn’t caught up with him, and he slowed his pace, casting a quick look over his shoulder several times, looking for Koda. When he couldn’t see him, he sank down into the taller grass and pulled out his radio. “Where are you, partner?”
The voice came over the radio, soft yet demanding.
Keys didn’t want Waylon warned yet. He preferred to keep the fact that he was the predator and they were the prey on the down-low. He hit the button on the radio and created static. But it was an open line for a couple of seconds, enough to convince Jay that his partner was alive.
Jay relaxed visibly. “Get a move on,” he ordered and tucked the radio away.
Keys was a master of deception. It didn’t take long to give the illusion he was Koda, coming fast into position.
Jay waved his hand forward and once again began casting for tracks and following Justin and King.
Keys played the game, catching up fast, staying the required six feet apart, but making certain trees and brush were between him and his prey.
He didn’t want a single sound to alert Justin and King.
That meant a knife. Close-up. No guns. Keys was very familiar with knives and very good at up-close wet work.
He waited until Jay was distracted by a bush with twisted, bruised leaves, and he came up on him silently.
Just as he’d done with Koda, he covered the man’s mouth and slammed the blade deep, severing the spinal cord.
He eased him onto the ground and went through his pockets quickly for anything Lyric and he could use to survive.
Two down, six more to go. It was doable, but it would take time, and Lyric was alone.
That didn’t sit well with him. He’d done as much as he could to keep tracks away from the area where their cave was, but Waylon was experienced.
So were the others. He would have to run against the clock and hope his brethren showed up to help.
Mostly, he wanted Steele there. He was a damn good doctor, and if Lyric had a brain bleed or anything remotely threatening her life, Steele would ferret it out and fix it.
Keys had that kind of faith in his brother.
Certain no one else was coming up behind him, he jogged through the woods, uncaring of leaving tracks. Justin and King had a fifteen-minute lead, but they were casting around from trail to trail as slowly as possible to ensure their backup was in place. No one liked being the bait.
Waylon and his crew had two vehicles. They would already be at the peak where Keys had tossed the cell phone.
They had to know he’d used that phone to call in his friends.
For all they knew, he might have called the cops.
Waylon would be feeling the same pinch of time that Keys was.
If Keys were in Waylon’s shoes, he would pull out all the stops to find Lyric.
That would be what he would think was his ticket to winning.
Keys stepped up his speed, cutting through the path to intercept Justin and King before they could reach the peak.
He could hear them talking to each other, muttering about how there were no tracks, but the bastard had to have come this way.
And how the hell had he ever gotten the drop on Merrit? Merrit was good. One of their best.
“Wasn’t that hard,” Keys said.
Both men swung around, and he shot them.
Kill shots. Not fucking around, just killing them outright.
There was no remorse. He never felt that shit, not when he took out scum.
Did he think someday someone would kill him for the same reason?
Believing he was scum? Probably. They’d be wrong.
He had a code of honor, but that didn’t stop him from being a monster. He was one, and he owned it.
He didn’t pretend he was anything different than he was, not even for Lyric.
Especially not for Lyric. He’d ease her into his world, but she would go into it with her eyes open, knowing what he was.
He’d been pretty up front with her, spelling it out for her.
She was Lyric, reacting unexpectedly. Sometimes he was afraid she looked at him with blinders on.
He went through pockets and then hauled their asses to the cliff and shoved them over. Let Waylon take the time to get their bodies before the vultures did. Not a good idea talking about beating and raping his woman. That just fuckin’ didn’t sit well with him.
He activated Kona’s radio. “Two more down, Waylon. Dumb play if you ask me. Needed something to do. Been bored out of my fuckin’ mind up here waiting for my brothers.”
Keys was already on the move. The radio most likely had a tracker in it, and Waylon and his crew would be able to pinpoint his position. He hoped so. He didn’t want them heading in Lyric’s direction.
There was silence and then Waylon swore at him, promising to skin him alive.
Unfortunately for him, he said he would cut pieces off of Lyric, scalp her and then skin her.
He’d hang the skin in his trophy room. That sealed his fate right there, not that Keys had ever had any intention to let him live.
“That’s a lot to take in, Waylon, boy. I think you have anger issues.
This is just business, remember? Small dicks demand trophy rooms, I get that, but is it really good form to throw a fit in front of your men?
You don’t want to get the pussy label. In my world, you would already be wearin’ it for that kind of tantrum. ”
Keep him talking. That was what it was all about. Taunting him was one thing, but making it real, that was something altogether different and guaranteed the asshole would want to talk.
“In the interest of full disclosure and giving you a heads-up, I studied all of you. Gathered a lot of information. All of you were military, special training, that shit. Have your own homes, try to live free. But you have families to protect and that leaves you vulnerable. You think because you live in a tight community you can’t be gotten to.
You’re wrong, Waylon. Even if you manage to get me, all of you are dead.
Your families are dead. We learned to kill from the time we were toddlers.
It’s in our blood. You don’t just stop that shit.
You hone your craft and get better each time. You know what I’m talking about.”
There was a small silence. Yeah, he’d sucked the leader in. Waylon would want to know more. He was a believer.
“You trained in the military?”
“I said ‘toddler.’ You ever hear of assassin schools in Russia?”
First there was silence, and then Waylon exploded into every swear word Keys had ever heard and a few others that were inventive. Yeah, he’d heard the rumors of those schools. Sorbacov had tried to keep it under wraps, but word leaked out.
“No shit?” Waylon asked. “You really trained there?”
“All of us did. Every last one of us. They’ll come for you and your families. So, doesn’t much matter if I die, they’ll get you. All of you. There won’t be a place on this earth for you to hide. Give you my word on that.”
“It’s a fuckin’ job,” Waylon announced. “Not personal. A job. You should be able to understand that if you’re who you say you are.”