Savage Scheme (13 page)

Nate and Max walked into the meeting room to find Ashbrook and Cole getting seated at the table. They took their respective seats, Cameron shooting Nate an understanding smile, one he couldn’t quite return.

“Let’s get started. Nate, let’s begin with Libby,” Logan prompted. He turned his head, surprised at his brother’s request. Max had told Nate they needed to get back to the Barn, which meant there was more news than Libby running away. Logan nodded his head, something softening in his hard eyes. Logan knew all too well what it was like for the woman who held your heart to go missing. His Zoe had to be rescued by a crazed stalker who had locked her in a greenhouse. Thinking back he realized Zoe didn’t need to be rescued, she had essentially rescued herself and incapacitated her captor before he eventually ended his own life. She was a strong woman, one who he proudly called sister and probably the only woman on the face of the planet that could handle his overbearing older brother. He wondered then if their own fears overshadowed the credit they needed to give the women in their lives.

“When Max showed up tonight, she recognized him. It turns out when Max got shot a few months back, it was Libby who shot him.” Cameron’s gasp of surprised quickly turned into a snort of amusement before she clapped a hand over her mouth. Max kicked her under the table. “Seeing Max spooked her and blew my cover. She escaped out of the bathroom window of Pete’s and broke the window on my truck to get her bag.”

“What was in her bag?” Ashbrook prompted. Nate didn’t mind Ashbrook so much, it was his tagalong sidekick who got under his skin. Ashbrook was the typical inflated ego arm of the law, but a mutual if unstable respect lay between him and Savage Security and that was all they needed. It was Cole who seemed to be having a hard time with the respect.

“It’s her getaway bag. She had changes of clothes, weapons, some tools to change her appearance - prosthetics, contacts, hair dye. She’s running because she’s scared and she feels betrayed. She thinks she is going to be safer away from me than with me right now. I had a tracker in her bag but when Cameron was able to locate it, we found it left behind with traces of blood.”

“Could she have left it there because she knew about the tracker?” Aiden asked.

“No, she would have never done that. That bag has her entire life in it. It has her security which is her weapons. She would have
never
left anywhere without it. Hell, she brought it to dinner tonight because she feels it’s all she has.”

“I agree. She would have never gone anywhere without it. What we’ve learned, even tonight - apparently Mark knows a great deal about Libby,” Max told the room, “Is that she relies on her training. She’s dangerous and has been trained like a black ops soldier. I have no doubt she can handle herself without her weapons, but with them, she’s unstoppable. And that is something I don’t believe she would take a chance with.”

“Plus she’s too trained, too smart to ever leave anything behind. The only reason we found the bag was because of the tracker I placed inside of it. She left no clues, no footprints, nothing to her last known location.”

“Okay so for now, we have to assume foul play,” Logan stated, putting the final nail in Nate’s coffin. He knew that’s what had to have happened, all evidence pointed to foul play, but to hear it out loud was crushing. “Privy to that, we’ve received a coded message from Ace. It turns out James West as made a new friend - Vasquez.” Nate felt the shock on his face. “This could work in our favour, we now have the opportunity to eliminate two known enemies. Keep in mind, it also increases the risk.”

“I know you are all prepared,” Ashbrook started. “But now that we have another key player added into the mix, we need to control the substance they are manufacturing before it is released and destroy the targets.” Nate couldn’t believe it. The adrenaline that started to rush through his system was evident, a new hum vibrating through the room as each one of them prepared for war. Nate looked over at Max, his face a mixture of both violence and stark relief. He’d kept Brie secluded for so long he knew it was starting to wear on both his brother and his wife. Once Vasquez was eliminated, a sense of normalcy would ensue, allowing Brie a little more freedom. It was true that he and his brothers were overprotective, any woman that came into their life wouldn’t be able to lead the same life she led before a Savage. Their lives held a certain amount of danger, it was part of the job. They’d made too many enemies, both in their previous careers and with Savage Security that the veil of protectiveness would branch out onto those they loved. It was a package deal, take it or leave it. At the same moment, Logan’s cell rang causing them all to still.

Pulling it from his pocket he frowned, a clear sign he didn’t recognize the phone number. Placing it on the table he ensured speakerphone was on so they could all hear. Cameron sat at her computer, her keyboard clicking under her fingers and Nate knew she was trying to narrow down the coordinates of the call.

“Savage,” he answered.

“Get your asses packed and on a plane now.” Nate recognized Ace’s voice. He had been deep undercover with Vasquez as one of his security for a number of months but until recently had no idea where his drug lord boss disappeared to. He’d received several coded messages to stay hidden and keep a low profile. In an effort to maintain his position, he did as he was told. Nate realized this new information they received about Vasquez must have come from Ace. “I’m at the West compound, I’ve sent the coordinates to Cameron,” he murmured softly. They looked to Cameron, who remained focused on her computer screen but showed them thumbs up in confirmation. “It’s rumored Carlos has West’s daughter.” Nate pushed himself out of his chair at the new information as Logan sent him a hard stare lifting his hand to stop him. Nate knew they had to hear all of what Ace had to tell them, it would be crucial for when they ambushed but he needed to know if she was okay. Something must have happened for her to be captured. She would have to have been distracted, that’s the only way she would have been kidnapped. A wave of sick washed over him. She was distracted - by him. “They are on their way here. They are keeping me out of the south-west area of the compound, only certain personnel allowed down there. My neck is tingling man. Nothing good is down there and I have a feeling the girl is at the center of it.” The call immediately disconnected and they were left with the sombre words that kicked their asses into gear.

“Let’s move! Luke, get Roxy over here now. I want wheels up in two hours. Bring Stella as well, we don’t know what shape Libby is going to be in and we may need medical attention. Cam?”

“Sent the coordinates to you already. What do I need to bring?”

Nate froze. The thought of Cameron coming on a mission turned his stomach. Hell, the thought of any of his sisters in the middle of danger, surrounded by violence almost threw him into a rage. He watched as Aiden turned to Cameron and enveloped her into a warm hug, one she returned icily.

“You know you can’t come little one.”

“But...”

“No. We need you here, at home base. This is where all your equipment is and we need as much help as we can get with this one, you know that. Without you, none of this would be possible, none of it. Who knows what kind of connection if any you will be able to obtain out there? We need you here, where it’s stable, where we know you can feed us information you probably wouldn’t be able to obtain in the middle of nowhere.”

“Fine.” Nate hated to see the disappointment on her face. But it was true, they had no idea what technology or accessibility Cameron would have. James West’s compound was in the middle of the Caribbean, not a place that was known for consistent wi-fi. Nate hoped that Cameron believed their older brother. She was the heart of this team, even if she didn’t realize it. Regardless that her weapon was a computer and not a gun, she was able to obtain information in ways that still amazed him. To say his sister was talented was a gross understatement. She could hack into any database and gather intel, unlike anyone he had ever known. She was a genius and without her, Savage Security would fail to exist. It was something he noted to remind her of more.

He walked over to her and kissed the top of her head after she plopped back down into her chair. “You do good work.”

“Yeah. Get out of here,” she told him pushing him away. He hated the distance in her voice. They would make it up to her, he promised.

“Love you,” he called, lingering at the door.

“Love you back,” she returned, her head again buried in whatever new information was coming across her screen. “Nate!” she called. He stuck his head back in the now empty room. “Be safe.”

“Always am.”         

Libby groaned, trying to open her eyes before closing them again at the blinding pain that shot through her head. Swallowing the wave of nausea that washed over her she tried to gain her bearings. She knew she was lying in a bed, the softness of the mattress cradling her body. Wondering where she was she suddenly remembered flashes of Carlos’ face and cursed threats before someone had hit her, hard. Moving her arms, she was surprised to find she wasn’t tied down to the bed. Taking a steadying breath, she slowly opened her eyes to find herself in her unchanged childhood bedroom, the Caribbean sun shining through the floor to ceiling windows. Pushing herself up, she breathed a sigh of relief noticing she was still in her own clothes.

“What the fuck,” she whispered, looking around wondering how long she’d been out. Moving to the window she felt herself deflate at the familiar warmth in the air and the palm trees of her childhood. And the impenetrable compound walls. Seeing some of her father’s men patrolling the gates, she slinked away from the window. Pressing her forehead against the wall, she blew out a rough breath, wincing at the pain that radiated from her temple. With tentative fingers, she touched the swollen and sensitive skin that spanned her cheekbone. She knew the pain, that bastard had hit her with the butt of his gun. Waiting for someone to storm into her room, she finally made her way to the connecting bathroom when no drama ensued. Splashing water on her face, she stared at her bruised features and wayward freshly coloured hair. Someone, one of the servants undoubtedly, was given the task of colouring her hair back to its natural tone while she lay unconscious. Picking up a strand, she examined it before letting it tangle with the rest of her tresses. Damn, she was an idiot. She fought the rage within her at getting caught. She knew it was because she wasn’t paying attention as she should, caught off guard by Nate and his brother. But she should have put her emotions aside. If she had been focused, she would have seen Carlos and his men coming and getting caught would have never happened. Now she had to find a way out. Suddenly she moved quickly to the double doors of the closet. Slowly turning the handle, she winced when years of being stagnant pierced the quiet, the metal of the door handle groaning in protest after years of dormancy. She paused, waiting for one of the guards to burst in and drag her downstairs. No one joined her. Pulling open the door quickly, she stepped inside, closing it behind her. She didn’t need to turn the light on. The stench of must permeated the air and it wasn’t a repulsive smell, it was one of relief. Reaching up she felt around for the latch on the attic door. Using all her strength she pushed and managed to pry it open. Gripping the ledge, she pulled herself up, her arms burning with exertion. Holding her body weight on her forearms with her legs dangling off the ground, she wanted to both laugh and cry at her predicament. Reaching out she pried the loose wooden panel away from the wall and she could almost hear angels singing as a black duffel bag sat, dust covered, exactly where she’d left it. She closed her eyes in relief knowing it had obviously gone undetected for years. Pulling it out of the small, hidden cubby, she quickly opened the zipper and the gleam of the small stash of weapons smiled up at her. Closing the bag, she shoved it back where she found it, replacing the panel and dropping back to the ground. She knew she couldn’t go out guns a blazing, she needed to know why she was here and what she was up against. If her father wanted to kill her, he would have done so by now. And he wouldn’t have dyed her fucking hair. The thought of someone altering her appearance while she lay helpless, unknowing of what was happening sent a shiver of unease down her spine. Dusting off her shirt, she smoothed her hair, fastening it into a ponytail before gripping the doorknob that led beyond the confines of her bedroom. Loosening her shoulders and cracking her neck, she replaced any emotions with a confident resolve. Opening the door, she was expecting to find at least one guard standing in wait, leaving her surprised when she found herself alone. Waiting for a minute before someone showed their face or their gun, she moved down the lavish marble staircase, never more thankful for her soundless leather boots. She could feel the heat in the air, the humidity already clinging to her skin. Hearing voices coming from the kitchen, she felt a familiar tingle against the back of her neck.

“You’re awake.” She didn’t bother to turn around, hearing Carlos’ shoes against the floor as he moved to stand in front of her.

“Why am I here, Carlos?” she asked, pushing the words through clenched teeth.

“That looks like it's sore,” he commented, reaching a hand out to caress her cheek. Turning her head, she moved just out of his reach. “Come,” he commanded. “Let’s put some ice on that.” She followed, realizing she didn’t have much choice.

Slowly sliding onto a stool at the breakfast bar, she felt herself automatically inventorying every corner of the kitchen. The two knife blocks, the overly large double door refrigerator, the gas range. Carlos opened the freezer, tossing a frozen bag of peas on the counter in front of her. She stared at it for a moment before moving her gaze back to him. “Where’s James?” she asked.

“Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner and the chef has something special prepared for your return.”

“More like a very short stopover,” she corrected.

“Let’s agree to disagree,” he suggested with a shrug. She noticed his gaudy dress shirt and khaki pants, the way his salt and pepper hair wouldn’t have moved in a hurricane with all the gel that held it in place. He was a young man when her father had taken him in, only fifteen years older than her but her father had always referred to him as her Uncle. A term of endearment she refused to use. She had watched him slowly move up the ranks in her father’s troupe from errand boy to the one who called the shots. “I’ve had a change of clothes sent up to your room.”

“I’ll be staying in what I’m wearing.”

“You’ll be changing for dinner.” He placed his hands on the counter and she felt a smile curve at her lips as he winced, reaching up to touch his shoulder where she’d shot him.

“Next time I’ll be sure to hit the heart.”

“Oh sweetheart, there won’t be a next time.” She raised a challenging eyebrow, sitting back smugly in her chair. She would play his game of make believe and get dressed up in what she was sure to be a hideous feminine dress. Carlos couldn’t be alerted to the plan she was starting to form otherwise she was sure it wouldn’t be just the butt of a gun against her temple she would be feeling next. “Let’s go,” he ordered.

“Where?” The icy stare she received was the answer to her question. She was expected to be weak and helpless here at her father’s compound, not independent and rebellious. Rolling her eyes, she pushed off the stool and followed Carlos toward the back patio. The heat in the air hit her like a brick wall, the heaviness of the humidity sticking to her skin as the sun beat down in the clear sky. Looking around she noticed a man sitting under the shade of an umbrella. She could only see the back of his head barely covered by thinning grey hair, his frail fingers tapping a rhythm against the arm of the chair. She felt herself tense hearing the hauntingly familiar tune. The echo of his dull fingernails, repeating the same six notes over and over created the soundtrack to her childhood. Her father.

“Sir,” Carlos alerted him.

Turning slowly in his chair, Libby watched as he pushed himself gingerly to his feet with the aid of a cane. Curiously she took in his appearance from head to toe. His cheeks were gaunt with at least forty pounds of lost weight, his skin carried a greyish tone and the rugged handsomeness her father was known for had completely disappeared. If it weren’t for his cold, piercing eyes, she didn’t know if she would have recognized him. He looked like death walking.

“Libby,” he wheezed. She made sure to keep her expression blank as his sparked with something akin to excited relief.

“What’s wrong with you?” she finally asked, piercing the tension-filled quiet between them.

“Come, we don’t have much time before our guest arrives for dinner. Carlos,” he beckoned. With a sharp nod, Carlos gripped her elbow in a bruising hold.

“Where exactly do you think I’m going to run off to?” she murmured sarcastically, waving her arm toward the ten foot rock and cement walls that surrounded the property.

“I’ve had enough trouble from you for one day. I’m not taking any chances.” She snorted in response and felt his fingers tighten in warning.

They followed the deteriorating, aging man toward a double door gate she hadn’t noticed before. It was obviously a new addition to the compound grounds. The gates slowly opened revealing a staircase carved into the stony cliff. Climbing down the steep steps, she watched her father struggle on a couple of the steps, Carlos briefly leaving her arm to attend to his. Her father was a proud man, waving him off and cursing each time Carlos ran to his side. The bottom stair led them to a large opposing metal door. Producing a set of keys from his pocket, the door opened with an ominous creak. An odd stench wafted through the damp draft causing Libby to wrinkle her nose. She was surprised at the modernity of the man-made cave. The smooth rock walls held no windows, but the lights and white decor throughout provided a sterile environment reminding her of a hospital. As they moved through the hallway, the stench became stronger and she looked toward Carlos, who was pulling white medical masks from his pocket.

“Put this on,” he commanded as she coughed, trying to catch her breath over the choking smell.

“What the fuck is this place?” she demanded after she had the mask securely over her nose and mouth.

Her father turned around and even with only his eyes visible she could see his evil grin. “My legacy.”

She heard her own gasp as her eyes widened, surveying the room they’d just walked into. It was a cold laboratory with divided cells against one wall. Each cell held what was left of the person chained to the bed, each more close to death than the one before as IV’s pumped a clear liquid into their arm. She noticed one person standing at a computer with a white lab coat, clearly the one administering a predetermined end. She felt her eyes fill with tears before she could separate her emotions from the scene before her. She knew her father was a heartless man. He’d taken away everything in her life up until this point, every person that had ever loved her. He was evil and he played God because he thought he was one. But she’d never seen something so monstrous, so malevolent in her life. “What did you do?” she heard herself whisper as a tear fell to her cheek, unable to tear her eyes away from the young girl in front of her. She couldn’t be older than sixteen and she was nothing more than skin and bones. Her skin had turned grey and it was clear her hair had been falling out judging by the dark pile on the floor. A horrific scream pierced the air as a man in the last cell started convulsing, attempting and failing to rip out the IV from his wrist. The man in the lab coat quickly walked over, unlocking the cell and stabbing a large needle into the screaming man’s thigh, immediately calming him down. With a hard resolve, Libby added him to her kill list.

“I’m sick Libby if you couldn’t tell,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I have cancer, and it's spreading very quickly. But we’ve created a drug to stop that. It prolongs life Libby. And it provides a high unlike anything that is on the street right now. It’s unbelievable. We’re going to be...”

“Very rich men.” A man emerged from the shadows and immediately she recognized his face.

“Senior Vasquez, we weren’t expecting you until dinner.”

“Yes well, I thought I would come and check on our little project. Seems to be coming along very nicely. Dr. Lacey here tells me that he has finally been able to solidify the drug without losing any of its components. How wonderful.”

She distantly listened to the number one and number two most wanted criminals talking as if they were old friends. She looked from Vasquez to her father and back to the young girl who was fading in and out of consciousness. It was like she’d been thrown into an alternate universe, the ultimate nightmare. What the hell was she doing here?

“We’ll discuss that over dinner. Come, you must be getting hungry, daughter.” Forcing her feet to move, she was led out of the kill factory and into the blinding sun. She ripped off the medical mask, gulping in the salty air before stepping into the shelter of the main house.

“Sir, you have a phone call.” Libby turned to look at the large man holding out a cell phone toward Vasquez. She frowned, wondering where she’d seen his familiar face before. Keeping his face blank, he held her stare until Vasquez ordered him away.

“Get changed into the red dress that is hanging in your closet. You have thirty minutes until dinner is served. Don’t be late,” Carlos growled, pulling her concentration away from the man she was sure didn’t work for the enemy.

Taking the stairs two at a time, she pressed her forehead against the door pulling in shaky breaths attempting to control her rioting emotions. She pressed her hand to her mouth to cover the sob that was trying to escape. Taking a deep breath, she knew she had to pull herself together. The game had just begun and she needed to play her part. Moving to the bathroom she splashed cold water on her face shaking herself out of her breakdown. Quickly piling her hair on the top of her head, she stared at the dress that hung in her closet. She knew Carlos had to have picked it out, it was as gaudy as anything he would wear.

Staring at herself in the mirror she managed to bury everything she was feeling into a deep dark corner of her mind. She felt the emotionless barriers fall securely into place knowing she was going to kill every last one of them if it was the last thing she did. She wasn’t going to let that drug get past the walls of her father’s laboratory. She would burn it to the ground even if that meant she burned with it. With a last glance toward her closet and her bag of weapons, she knew she wouldn’t be able to make any moves tonight. She needed to find out why she was there before she did anything. She damn sure knew it wasn’t for a family reunion and her father never did anything spontaneous. Preparing for the worst, she slipped on the high heels left for her and made her way toward the sound of male voices downstairs. She didn’t know how she was going to eat knowing she would have to force herself to stave off suspicions.