Stolen Vengeance: Slye Temp book 6 (33 page)

BOOK: Stolen Vengeance: Slye Temp book 6
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Chapter 43

 

Valene had followed directions on Smith’s phone that had directed her to a sedan sitting outside the rear door of the coffee shop. She’d driven it, using his directions that sent her to the Skid Row area of downtown LA where a celebration of some sort was going on.

She parked along a curb as close as she could to where the street had been closed to traffic for two city blocks. In the middle of that area was an intersection where a crowd and news crews congregated.

She headed down the street on foot. The only thing keeping her upright was the phone in her pocket that she hoped was still calling Dingo’s phone. She didn’t know how he’d use that to find her, but she was praying he could.

Looking around, she recognized this particular area.

She wasn’t far from the building where Navarro had held her. Was he still there? Or would he have left now that someone knew his location?

She’d meet with Rikker. Give him the scroll and leave.

If he recognized her.

He’d said to meet him at the first corner where she could see the celebrities speaking.

That worked for her. Nice and public. Lots of police around and there were always the news crews.

Someone waved a cross the size of a hammer.

Was this one of the pope’s stops?

The minute she handed the scroll off, she’d planned to call Dingo and explain what had happened, but she had to tell him now. If Rikker was here, someone was going to die.

A hard object jammed against her back and a deep voice with a Latin accent said, “Make one sound and I’ll shoot you, then I’ll kill those children standing in front of you.”

She knew that voice. Navarro.

Two little girls and a small boy were clustered around their mother, holding hands.

Valene fought to see through stars in her vision.

He said, “
Comprende
?”

She nodded. That word was officially out of her Spanish vocabulary.

He guided her back to a narrow walkway that stank, but she could barely breathe anyway, from the anxiety choking her. She’d pass out if she held her breath. When they reached a door on her right, he kicked it open and shoved her down the stairs into the basement floor of a building that appeared to be having work done. The Skid Row revitalization project. If the pope was actually here, that had to be why.

“Give me your phone,” Navarro demanded.

When she turned, he had a .40 caliber Glock pointed at her. She hated that her weapons training had taught her how big a hole that would make. Better to hand over her phone than give him a reason to make her. She took out her phone, thumbing it off as she did, and tossed it to him.

He caught it, dropped it on the ground and crushed it under his boot.

Navarro said, “You thought you would make a fool of me, but you are the fool.”

“What do you want?” Valene heard muffled voices, carried from microphones, but blunted by the brick wall between her and the speakers. Screaming probably wouldn’t help her since it would take a while for someone to hear her and Navarro would kill her by then.

Navarro’s phone hummed. He had it hooked on his belt and thumbed the button that turned it into speaker mode. “I’m busy. What?”

A woman answered, “Are your people ready?”

Muscles in Navarro’s face twisted with hate. “Do
not
ever question me.”

“I can’t afford for this to go wrong.”

“The only way it will be bad is if another one of my men gets killed. If you screw this up, you still owe me for the first one
and
this one, Perdido.”

Had Valene heard that right? Navarro was working for Perdido?

F.E.P. For Eva Perdido? “I’m ready to settle my debt today.” She sounded terrified and angry at the same time. “Just remind your man not to miss when I lean in.”

“Give your speech and do your part as we agreed. My man will do his. And stop calling me. Do not give me a reason to kill two birds with one shot.” He ended the call.

His eyes were full of crazy. Something had pushed Navarro to the edge of sanity. Or maybe he was just insane to begin with if he was killing high-profile targets.

Valene had to get him talking. Anything to buy time and figure a way out of this. “Just tell me this. Why’d you kill Aram?”

“Talk, talk, talk.”  He waved his gun. “Shut up and tell me where the scroll is.”

He didn’t know she had it with her? “I could show you better.”  And have more chance of drawing someone’s attention outside.

“No. You tell me and I’ll send someone while I hold you.”

Dingo had speculated that Smith and Navarro had some connection. “If I do, Smith will come after you.”

“So you know Smith? You know Dingo Paddock, too. You’re a popular woman. I may need to keep you around. I’ll find Dingo and when I do I’ll send him a picture of you ... under me.” 

Over my dead body.
She didn’t say that since she didn’t want to give a man holding a gun on her any idea about her capabilities. Speaking of ideas, she had one. “I’ll give you the scroll. Right now. Just let me go, please.”

He laughed. “I should have realized you’d have it with you. Hand it over.”

“I have to reach in my purse and pull it out very carefully or it will be damaged.”

“You pull out anything that is not a scroll and you will lose that hand first. I need you alive for a while, but I don’t need all the parts.”

She kept up the act of being nervous, which didn’t take much acting, and slowly dug into her purse, fingering around to open the lid on the cylinder. “The scroll is fragile. I’ll make you a deal. If you tell me why you killed Aram, I’ll give you a tip on how to sell the scroll.”

“I can
make
you tell me.”

That froze the blood in her veins. “But it would be easier just to trade information.”

“Very well. Aram was not of any consequence. I have three people to kill. He was merely someone to throw off investigations trying to tie the kills together.”

“So you didn’t go after Aram because of the scroll?”

“No, just another job for your Mr. Smith. How did he find you?”

She’d love to know. “Have no idea. Just my bad luck.”

“Your luck is going to be much worse if you stall any longer.”

“Got it.”  She pulled out the reproduction scroll as she stepped forward, and tossed the roll at him.

He grabbed for it.

She attacked him and made a well-placed kick that knocked the gun flying, but she wished for her boots. He caught his balance and came at her, but she was ready and pummeled him with Krav Maga strikes, adrenaline super-charging her hits.

She spun and kicked him backwards into a big wall cabinet. The hit stunned him and he slid to the ground, shaking his head.

She’d taken note of the room on her way in and lunged to grab a bucket of paint. Two steps and she whacked him across the head with it, turning out his lights. She grabbed the fake scroll and turned to find her way out.

The crowd outside was applauding someone.

Construction material blocked Valene’s way to the front of the building, so she ran back up the stairs, out the side door. When she reached the street, she slowed to catch her breath and straighten her wig.

She’d almost lost the scroll. Looking around, she saw the perfect place to hide the real one and eased her way over to a detached gutter downspout. She fished the cylinder out of the false bottom in her purse along with the roll of paper she’d planned to use as a clean surface to roll the scroll out on.

Everyone was so focused on whatever was making news that Valene managed to wad up the paper and shove the lightweight cylinder up inside the broken gutter, then push wadded paper in behind it as a blocker.

Then she wormed her way through the crowd, ignoring the ugly looks and grumbles. Everyone she’d passed was wearing a cross.

She didn’t want to go to the corner on this side after what had happened.

Instead, she’d watch for Smith from here. If he was so smart and knew her every move then he’d have to come look for her, right?

When she’d pushed her way near the front of the crowd, she could see Perdido stepping away from the microphone so the pope could talk behind a protective clear shield that had to be bulletproof.

Whatever Navarro had planned wasn’t going to happen right now. Not with that shield up.

The crowd was still shouting and clapping for the pope.

Eva Perdido had just sat down when she said something to the pope.

He looked her way.

Eva stood and took a step, then the pope cupped his hand to his ear and leaned past the shield just as the crowd noise subsided.

Just remind your man not to miss when I lean in.

Valene realized what was happening and screamed,
“Gun! Get the pope down!”

Security jumped in front of the pope as Perdido jerked up, then back, with red blooming on her shoulder.

Pandemonium broke loose.

Police were everywhere.

Valene saw scaffolding on the opposite side of the crowd. She jostled and pushed her way there then climbed up to get a look at the crowd.

Where was Rikker?

She didn’t see him, but she did see Dingo running up the street toward a sea of bodies between them. When he gave her a sign he saw her, she knew he’d want her to stand still. She climbed down and stepped back to wait.

Steel fingers locked on her arm.

Not again.

Smith said, “Move it or I’ll drop Paddock right here in front of you.”

She started walking as he dragged her down the street away from the crowd.

Sirens were shrieking.

LAPD, the FBI, everyone in the area would be here any minute.

But Smith turned a corner and had her half a block further away by the time the sirens cut off when the police vehicles stopped at the street with the action.

“You better have that scroll with you,” Smith said.

She wished she’d never heard of this scroll. “I do. Stop and I’ll give it to you.”

He didn’t answer. She asked, “How did Charlie really find me?”

“I gave him your name and address.”

“So he’s working with you.”

“Past tense. Charlie had the same flaw you have.”

Charlie was dead. Valene didn’t want to end up the same way so she asked, “What flaw?”

“He talked too much.”  Smith stepped up to the front entrance of the building Navarro had held her in before.

The door was snatched open by one of two men inside who were armed with automatic rifles. They nodded, which Valene took to mean they worked for Smith and not Navarro.

He dragged her to the stairs and started up.

Dingo would come for her, but he’d end up dying here.

She said, “Let me give you the scroll then you let me go. I know you’re not going to pay me.”

“You’re right about not getting paid, but the scroll isn’t all I need you for.”

 

Chapter 44

 

Dingo plowed through people.

Someone in a uniform grabbed his arm and Dingo had to keep himself from snarling. He affected a high voice and grabbed the cop, whining, “Where is Jean Pierre? He was here. Tell me he did not get shot.”

That got him shrugged off and Dingo kept bulldozing his way through the mangle of bodies until he burst through the side of the crowd where Valene ... was gone.

Navarro had her.

Dingo ran all out toward the next street.

He would have thought the police activity around Navarro’s building after the gang attack and now this event would have cleared him out, but maybe not.

Criminals continually surprised Dingo when they did stupid things. Good thing. It helped law enforcement thin the herd.

He made it to the turn as more police rolled in, and waited behind garbage piled in and around a large can as the cars emptied out and officers raced toward the shooting.

Had to be fucking Rikker, but Dingo had given Josh everything he could. Sabrina and Josh would have to take down Rikker without Dingo.

He had something more important than vengeance.

Valene.

By the time he reached the building, he had his Sig out and rammed the door open, dropping two guards whose shots went wide.

There’d be more upstairs.

He lifted one guard’s rifle, plus the two extra mags he found on the guy, and started up.

Shots came from the top of the stairs.

He didn’t have time to play hide and seek with Valene up there. He raised his Sig and the rifle, opening fire with both, going at the shooters with a determination that would make Rambo proud.

A bullet caught him in the arm. The wound burned, but apparently no bone was hit because he could still use that arm. With adrenaline rushing through him he gritted his teeth and lunged forward, shooting everything that moved.

His pistol ran out of ammo first.

He sucked back against the wall, ejected the mag on the rifle and reloaded, prepared to continue, but it was quiet above him. Had he really gotten them all or was someone waiting to snipe him the minute he reached the top floor?

He heard a distinctive whomp, whomp, whomp.

A helo.

Shit.

BOOK: Stolen Vengeance: Slye Temp book 6
2.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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