Inferno (30 page)

“Hidden somewhere in these woods is a target. Your objective is to find them. It’s that simple, boys.”

“Who and what are we looking for, sir?” Bradley asked.

Glancing his way, Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. He was a goddamn fool for sounding so chipper. Marx was pissed and when he was mad, people died. No amount of bravado or ass kissing was going to change that.

The director’s lips quirked into a calculating smile. His eyes remained as hard and unchanging as granite. “They are someone we’ve interrogated in the past. I’m dividing you into two teams. The first one to locate and deliver said target wins.”

“What’s the catch?” Wes asked.

Marx strolled in front of them, his light chocolate skin glistening beneath the sunlight. “I believe I made my intentions clear when I said the proper motivation would be given, gentlemen. One of you will be minus a friend or family member at the end of the day. The teams have already been decided and one person from each side sequestered. Those people have been chosen at random but, needless to say, two of you gentlemen stand much to lose should you fail today.”

A hushed silence fell over the group and they exchanged uneasy glances. Swiping the back of his hand over his mouth, Sebastian fought to stay standing. Fear jacked-up his pulse until the blood reverberated in his ears. He could no longer hear what Marx was saying. He couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. The only thing he could think about was Taylor and how he had no way of knowing where she was now or if she was safe. His eyes snapped to their commander’s face, searching for some clue, something that would reveal who he’d taken.

Marx was too smart for that. The director’s stony countenance revealed nothing. He wanted his men to sweat.

Had he taken Taylor?

Sebastian’s stomach knotted. What about Monique? That was his sister, his blood, and she meant the world to Josh. Taking her would level them both in a single blow.

That sick, twisted fuck had gone too far this time, pushed to many boundaries. Stunned silence hung over the rest of the squad. He trembled, fighting desperately to keep his tangled emotions in check, but there was so much damn fear. So much panic. Then the anger hit. But it wasn’t just anger this time; it was a full-blown combustion—a culmination of all the pain and suffering Marx had inflicted over the years and all the times he’d choked his emotions down and endured them in silence.

His fists locked as images of Lucian and his nephew flashed unbidden through his mind. He remembered screaming for hours, punching and clawing at the concrete walls until his hands bled, pouring every bit of guilt-ridden anguish into that cell when they’d delivered the news that Marx had killed them. His eyes stung with unshed tears as he remembered visiting Christian’s grave. It had ripped him apart to see that tiny mound entombed beneath the cold winter snow and to read the names of the people he loved chiseled into stone. He’d buried a part of him that day. A part he would never get back.

He. Couldn’t. Do it. Again.

One hand flew to the pistol holstered at his hip. His other arm swung back, knocking Josh square across his chest hard enough to send the man staggering. A noise both animalistic and foreign to his own ears escaped him as he yanked his gun free. Surprise flickered briefly across the director’s face before it darkened beneath a wave of worry and rage. The heavy line of Marx’s brow lowered and, taking a step back, he brandished his own weapon.

A loud chorus of shouts erupted around him as Sebastian cocked the hammer and took aim. Marx wasted no time doing the same.

“Baas!”

Josh’s frantic shout echoed behind him.

“Jesus Baas! Put that fucking thing away! What the hell are you
doing
?”

“Shut up,” he snapped. His burning gaze never wavered from Marx’s face. “So help me God,” he growled, arm trembling, “if you hurt my family, today will be your last. Tell me you didn’t touch them, Marx.”

A brief bid of amusement flashed in the man’s eyes. “I’ll do no such thing. Go ahead, Baas. Pull the trigger.”

Sebastian stepped forward, his aim steady and a feral snarl curving his lips. “Do you think I won’t?” he asked softly.

“It would be foolish to try. I have snipers positioned all over these woods. You shoot, they shoot.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Am I? Take a look for yourself.”

A quick downward glance assured him Marx was right. Undaunted by the multitude of red dots speckling his chest, he took another step forward. A sharp crack ripped though the field, the retort as loud and sudden as thunder. He froze as a spray of dirt and rocks kicked up a mere inch from his feet.

“That was a warning shot,” Marx stated flatly. “The next one won’t miss.”

“Baas…come on,” Josh pleaded. The crunch of brittle grass and footfalls warned his partner was edging closer. “Don’t do this, buddy. It’s not worth it.”

“I think it is.”

“Your teammates and family would disagree,” Marx countered. “They would suffer dearly for your stupidity, and believe me when I say you would live long enough to witness every second. For their sake as well as your own, pull yourself together and get your fucking ass back in
line
.”

His finger twitched, tightening ever so slightly around the trigger.

“Baas!
STOP!
”

He felt a hand claw at his arm but before he could react, the butt of Josh’s gun slammed against his temple. The sickening crack boomed inside his skull and he staggered to the side, stumbling to catch his balance as an explosion of blinding white light detonated before his eyes. His body pitched. Catching himself with one hand did little to lessen the impact and Sebastian winced as his knee collided with the ground. Growling, he tried to shake the stars blurring his vision.

“I’m sorry,” Josh said, still standing over him. “But I can’t fucking let you do this. This isn’t just about you. It’s about everyone.”

He levered halfway to his feet then charged. Roaring, he speared his shoulder into his partner’s midsection. Josh hit the ground hard, the air leaving him in a pained grunt as Sebastian tumbled on top of him. The rest of the team descended in a flurry of black. Hands and fingers bit deep into his arms, fighting to pull him away. A sick sense of satisfaction flooded him as he managed to land at least one good punch before he was wrested off his partner and flung onto his back.

“You have lost your fucking mind!” Josh screamed, furiously batting at the hands attempting to steady him and pull him to his feet.

He pondered that for a moment. Maybe he had. It was a definite possibility given the circumstances lately. Not to mention the sheer terror of not knowing where his sister and Taylor were. His expression hardened. Glaring at his partner, his eyes narrowed. Maybe the real question here was how Josh could remain so calm. Was Monique’s safety not a valid concern in his eyes or did the man know something he didn’t? Frowning, Sebastian smoothed his uniform and gear back into place. Either way, Josh’s reaction didn’t sit well with him. At all.

His partner’s blue eyes blazed with fury as he swiped the back of his hand over his mouth only to have it come back bloody.

“If you want to die, do it on your own damn time, Baas. Don’t drag the rest of us down with you.”

Still glowering, Josh spit a mouthful of blood onto the ground between them. Sebastian regarded it for a brief second, wanting to feel pity or remorse, but all he felt was disgust. When push came to shove, his partner was proving time and again that he would always take Marx’s side. His gaze darted to the director. It wasn’t surprising to find the bastard regarding their scuffle with a smug look of amusement riding his face. He knew all too well the problems and rifts he was causing.

Returning his gun to its holster, Sebastian whirled on their commander and leveled a finger at his chest.

“You better think long and hard about what you are doing,” he warned. “You can only push so far before people decide to start pushing back. I would lay down my life for these men, but if you ever go near my family again, I will end you, Marx. You and everything you stand for. That is a promise.”

A heavy pause hung between them. Marx’s smooth brown skin glistened beneath the late morning sun as he pursed his lips into a thoughtful moue and nodded. “You and what army, Sebastian? Save your fire for the field where it belongs. An animal can only lash out at its master so many times before it becomes obvious the thing is untamable and needs put down.”

“I’m not your fucking
pet
,” he growled through clenched teeth.

“And I’m not going to waste any more time. If you aren’t an asset to this organization, you are a liability. Make your decision, but choose wisely. One of those decisions comes at a hefty price. Not just to you, but to your team as well.”

He shifted in the indicated direction, not quite willing to let Marx out of his line of sight. Sure enough, both Vince and Wes sported a multitude of red beads. The latter of which shook so hard it made the loose jowls along his chin judder and sway. His attention flickered briefly to the rocky outcroppings and the woods beyond, searching for any signs of the snipers. Unable to spot them, and not seeing any other choice, Sebastian bit back his anger and rejoined his men. He couldn’t risk offing the only person who might know were Taylor or his sister were located if they had been taken and, fortunately for his men, he needed every ounce of manpower he could get.

Content with his decision, Marx rattled off the two teams. Much as he suspected, the director pitted him and his usual men against Bradley and the fresh batch of recruits. It was a battle of new versus old in a test of skill and ability to please.

Like obedient fucking show dogs.

One thing remained in his favor. Bradley was sporting a row of cracked ribs, though it was almost certain Marx had the medical team give him something to take off the edge. The moment they were given the go ahead, he steeled his jaw and stormed toward the edge of the woods and the rocky outcropping to the right. He didn’t bother looking to see what direction Bradley and his team took. If the man was smart, he’d hightail it to the other side of the woods and get as far away from them as he could get. It didn’t take long for Josh to catch up to him and he stiffened in anger listening to the labored sounds of his partner’s breath.

“You want to wait for the rest of us or are you just going to charge full steam ahead and call the shots for everybody here too? You know, the next time to decide to go off all crazed and hammer cocked a little heads up would be nice.”

“I could have had him.”

Josh responded with a crazed laugh. “No, Baas, you couldn’t. God forbid you had and those snipers had taken all of us out. I don’t know what it is you’re hoping to accomplish, but you need to get your damn head on straight, pal.”

He came to an abrupt halt. Jackson stumbled with a curse behind him, almost tripping with his frantic efforts not to collide with Sebastian’s back. Craning his head to the side, he flung his arms up in the air and stared at his partner.

“Maybe you don’t understand what’s going on here. That sick fuck could have my sister locked up again. Or Taylor—or Aiden or Mia. Doesn’t that matter to you?” he asked, his voice cracking with disbelief.

“Of course it does,” Josh exclaimed. “But killing him isn’t going to fix anything! They’d still be out there, God knows where. How would we find them then, Baas?”

He had no answer for that. It was just another agonizing roadblock and a sickening reason to keep the demented bastard alive.

“Yeah,” Josh muttered. “That’s what I thought. You know we’re going to come out of this on top. We’re gonna kick ass and get things done just like we always do. We have nothing to worry about.”

Gritting his teeth, he shouldered past his partner with a disgusted shake of his head. “Hold on to that confidence. It will be a great consolation prize if someone we care about ends up dead.”

Whatever begrudging response Josh muttered was lost beneath the squad’s footfalls and the crunching of dry grass, twigs, and leaves. Ignoring him, Sebastian led the team up the wooded slope in search of a higher vantage point where they would have a better view of the land and any potential movement below. They weren’t half way up the rocky forest terrain when Jackson fell into a tentative pace beside him. Glancing over at the young man, he switched off his headset. The rookie agent took his lead and did the same before aiming a cautious look his way.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, it’s just…this thing…what happened back there…”

“Yes?”

“He can’t be serious. I mean, he can’t really do this shit and get away with it, right?”

Sebastian snorted beneath his breath. “He thinks he can, Agent Lane. That’s what matters.”

“For what it’s worth, I appreciate what you did.”

“You mean potentially getting you killed?” he asked with a heavy twinge of sarcasm.

The young man laughed and wiped away the thin rivulets of sweat starting to run down his face. “No, sir. Not that part, but for sticking up for us and trying to do what’s right. I know I signed up for some ethically debatable shit, but whatever it is we’ve been doing lately—this isn’t it.”

Keeping pace, he raised an eyebrow but nodded. It was best not to respond or encourage that kind of resistance, but it did give him hope. Though small, he had a group of men banding together behind him who might be willing to stand up and fight should push continue to mount to shove. He kept his focus rooted on the rocky terrain, scanning the trees and cliff for movement or potential hiding places. All that mattered was finding whoever was in those woods and getting the hell out.

The air above them shifted, and Sebastian faltered upon feeling the faint quiver in the ground beneath his feet. It was low, but he could hear the low, guttural sound of an engine and the rhythmic chop of helicopter blades sluicing the air. Josh came to a stop behind him and the rest of the group fell short. Squinting, he shielded his eyes and scanned the sky.

“Do you think Marx is bringing more teams in?” Jackson asked.

He frowned, briefly wondering if that was the case. The remaining men were too new and inexperienced. They wouldn’t be ready for this kind of exercise. Then again, when it came to business ethics lately, he and Marx rarely saw eye-to-eye. He tensed, his body bracing as the chopper drew closer. Something was off. The color was right, but it was flying too low, swooping low enough to whip the grass and trees beneath into a frenzy. Before he had time to react, it veered in their direction and opened fire.