Seeking Vengeance: Callaghan Brothers, Book 4 (20 page)

At that moment, Nick was profoundly grateful to be on the right side of things for a change.

“Look, like I said, I’m not stupid.  If you guys are capable of even half of what I think you are, then the smartest thing I can do right now is keep my trap shut.  But Nicki is my sister, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to fail her again.”

A heavy silence permeated the kitchen.  Seconds ticked by in the quiet, each movement of the old fashioned clock sounding as if it had been multiplied a hundred fold.  The three Callaghan brothers sat unnaturally still while Nick shifted in his chair.

It was Michael who spoke first.  “No one questions your heart, Nick, but there’s more at stake here.”

“I know, I know,” Nick said running his hands through his hair.  “The whole ‘ignorance is bliss thing’?  Hey, I’m totally down with that.  I don’t know the details and I don’t want to.  All I’m saying is... I just want to be involved.  There has to be some way that I can help.”

“Perhaps there is,” Shane said thoughtfully.  “Nicki’s always found a way to get in touch with you before, right?”

“Right.”

Shane looked at Sean.  “Let’s have Ian vamp up his mobile.  If she texts or phones, he can get a lock.”

Sean nodded.  “It’s a good idea.  Come on.  Let’s hit the Pub and get you geared up.”

* * *

B
enny “the Bull” Marscone, now Richard Constantino, ran a portion of his business from a moderately-sized two-story at the far end of a cul-de-sac in a middle-class neighborhood.  Nicki shook her head as they checked the place out.  It was all so normal.  Husbands were out shoveling the latest round of frozen precipitation from the sidewalks and driveways while kids laughed and played.  Some made snow angels or snowmen.  Some rode sleds and snowboards over the fair sized hill just off the park.  Others had built forts and were engaged in snowball battles while moms chatted in puffy coats at the end of driveways with watchful eyes.  Christmas lights decorated nearly every home in anticipation of the upcoming holiday.  It looked more like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting than the home base of a vice lord.

“Tell me how a drug dealer operates in a place like this,” she said, shaking her head.  She held Fisher’s hand loosely.  She’d padded the feminine-looking parka to give the impression of pregnancy.  Her hair was pulled back into a casual knot, and just a hint of makeup left her fresh-faced and young-looking. 

Fisher, in his Dockers and stylish Northland jacket, was the epitome of the young professional with his stylishly boyish haircut and clean-shaven jaw.  For all intents and purposes, they were a young, expecting couple checking out a few of the homes that sported For Sale signs along the street.

“Hiding in plain sight,” Fisher said under his breath.  “And how much do you want to bet he’s got more than a few customers right here on Happy Street.”

It was true enough.  Oh, probably not the heavy stuff, but maybe some weed, some mild pick-me-ups for the stressed-out moms, some perfectly acceptable pain meds and relaxants to make life just a little more bearable when things got tough for the upper middle class.

“He’s smart,” Nicki said, nodding pleasantly as she pretended to point out features on the nearest home.  “He handles the white-collar crowd now, no doubt leaving his minions to deal with the riff-raff.”

Fisher put his arm around her and pulled her close, placing a chaste kiss on her temple.  Brookes, he knew, was stewing in the car two blocks over.  They always battled for who would play Nicki’s significant other, and Brookes lost the toss this time.

Nicki couldn’t help but smile.  “Gloating doesn’t become you,” she said, knowing immediately what he was up to.  Fisher laughed.  “It suits me perfectly, and you know it.  Now what’s the best angle of entry, do you think?”

They took their time, pausing to stop and chat with a couple of curious residents about the local schools, nearest playgrounds, all the while registering every detail.  By the time the street lamps began to glow and parents started ushering kids inside for hot chocolate, baths and bedtime, Nicki and Fisher walked back to their car – a nondescript gray Malibu – and drove away.

They convened with Brookes a few minutes later, trading the Malibu for the full-sized van equipped with the latest technology. 

“He’s got security cameras here, here, and here,” Fisher said, making points on the digital pics of the house they’d discreetly snapped, as well as the satellite images they’d pulled with a quick call to Taser, “though I would bet his security is a damn sight better than that piece of shit system he’s advertising on his lawn.”

Nicki nodded, pointing at the barely noticeable smudges along the window and door frames.  “I’ll say.  These look like laser points to me.  Break the stream when they’re engaged and all hell breaks loose.”

Brookes agreed.  “Close-ups don’t show anything like that on the attic level though.  He’s probably just got the standard wiring.  Fidiot probably doesn’t think he needs the extra protection up that high.”

“That’s because he’s never met us,” Nicki said with a grin.

T
hey waited until most of the houses had gone relatively dark, then slipped in like shadows, surrounding the house at various strategic points.  Not surprisingly, Nicki was the first one in.  She traded her suburban outfit for form-fitting body armor, a protection against the cold that would allow her the greatest range of motion.  As the lightest and most nimble, she’d been able to easily shimmy up the porch supports to the first story roof, then proceeded to use gutter brackets to noiselessly work her way toward the slotted, angular vent.  It took a few moments to loosen some of the slots, but she didn’t have to do many.  With her small frame and excellent muscle control she was able to slither in like a snake. 

The first thing she did was disable the alarms along pre-selected windows for Fisher and Brookes.  She worked quickly and efficiently, her hands steady and her mind calm and collected, though she couldn’t completely stop the anxious wriggling in her gut.  Finally, Nicki would have her vengeance.

She found Benny in the master bedroom, lounging in a black silk robe that hung open.  Nicki flinched at the pain that shot through her at the very sight of him.  She had to remind herself that she was no longer a child, but a grown woman with the knowledge of at least a hundred ways to kill a man in less than ten seconds.  Her mother was beyond his reach.  And he would never, ever, think to threaten her brother again.

In his hand was a remote, the unmistakable moans and groans of a child pornography feature film filling the room.  Nicki knew instantly that Benny hadn’t changed at all.  It only strengthened her resolve, her belief that he had to be stopped.

Despite all of her training, Nicki felt her cool self-control slipping away as the awful sounds triggered terrible memories.  How many times had she been forced to watch those horrible films?  How many times had he schooled her in the ways of pleasuring men? 

And she’d been one of the fortunate ones.  Benny didn’t sell her like he did the others.  He had developed a particular fondness for her, and generally kept her all to himself.  The rage built up inside of her, but she tended it carefully, stoking it but not letting it get out of control.

Nicki stepped silently from the shadows.  She only had a few minutes at most before the others disabled the guards she knew had to be lurking around – Benny always had plenty of protection – and made their way up to her.  But Benny was hers, and hers alone. 

Nicki knew she must have been quite a sight to behold.  Dressed from head to toe in form fitting black, her hair unbound and flowing over her shoulders, her pale gray eyes glowing luminously, she must have looked like an avenging angel.

“Benny,” crooned Nicki as she held a gun to Benny’s temple, the soft click letting him know what she was about to do. “Long time no see, huh?”

Benny’s eyes widened as his brain processed the figure before him.  “Nicolette,” he said, paling.  “I thought you were dead...”

Nicki smiled showing perfect white teeth.  She was no longer the helpless young girl at his mercy, afraid that if she ever refused him he’d kill her brother.  All those years, she’d let Nick believe she’d done all those things to protect their mother.  That was only partially true.  If it had only been Charlene she’d been worried about, if she didn’t think Benny would use his considerable resources to make good on his threats, she would have taken Nick up on his offer to run away. 

No, Benny had discovered her real weakness.  The bastard made sure that Nicki always knew Nick was one refusal away from an unimaginable fate.

But she held all the cards now.  Benny would never hurt her, her brother, or anyone else ever again.

“I could say the same of you, Benny.  We must have Guardian Angels, you and I.”

Benny licked his lips, regaining some of his poise.  Such arrogance.  Obviously, he had no idea the monster he’d created all those years ago.

His lecherous gaze ran the length of her body.  “Black suits you, Nicolette.  It brings out the darkness in you.”

“You know all about darkness, don’t you, Benny?  Selling drugs.  Whoring out kids. 
Torturing and murdering people
.”

Benny’s brows creased in confusion; for a moment he didn’t seem to know what she was talking about.  “Ah – you mean the boy who tried to steal you from me?  Yes, I remember him now.”  Benny actually chuckled.  “Such romantic notions.  I had to teach him a life lesson, Nicolette.”  His eyes hardened.  “Fairy tales are for children. And no one steals what belongs to me.”

Nicki found herself momentarily speechless with his callousness.  “I never belonged to you, you rotten piece of shit.”

He waved it off.  “I bought you.  From your dear, devoted mother herself.”

“You can’t buy children!”

“Of course you can.  It is done all the time.  Do you think there are not still places today where families barter their children for food, shelter, other necessities?  Then there are people like your mother, who do it for drugs and sex and the freedom of not having to care for you anymore.  Don’t kid yourself, Nicolette.  Naivete doesn’t suit you.” 

Naivete?  Nicki couldn’t remember a time in her life when she was ever naïve. 

“You had a better life because of me,” he continued.  “Fine food, your own private room, and beautiful clothes.”

“
I was fourteen
.”

“Old enough.”  He shrugged again, without even a glimmer of remorse.  The man was truly delusional.

“Are you still buying kids, Benny?”

Benny grinned.  “Jealous, pet?  Actually, you were always my favorite, Nicolette.  Dark.  Fragile.  Intensely sexual.” 

“Two out of three, Benny.”  Muffled thuds sounded through her earpiece, though Benny could not hear.  Fisher and Brookes were taking care of Benny’s henchman even more efficiently than usual, and she knew why.  They wanted to get to her before she did something... irrational.

“So tell me, Nicolette, why you are here.  Surely you must have expended a lot of effort to find me.”

She had.  Benny had covered his tracks very well, but once she’d heard his name come up the year before in a raid, she knew she wouldn’t rest until she tracked him down and hunted him like the rabid animal he was.  It probably would have been much easier if she’d been able to use her team’s resources, but this had to stay personal.  Only Taser knew the gory details of her past; even now, she was sure her partners knew only the bare minimum.

“I did, but you know what, Benny?  You’re worth it.”  She reached into her cat suit and pulled out a small dart and a blow pipe.  She loaded and fired the poison-tips into his legs.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he roared, loud and clear enough to be easily heard on the first floor.

“Immobilizing you,” she said matter-of-factly.  The fast-acting toxin was already numbing his legs.  Nicki was a big fan of them.  Completely organic, used for centuries by African tribesmen, wouldn’t show up on any normal autopsy.  No one knew more about untraceable poisons than Nicki, and in her opinion, there was nothing better.  Two more, one in each arm, quickly followed. 

Fisher’s voice sounded clearly in her earpiece.  “First floor’s secure.  Brooks is calling for a clean-up crew.  Nix, hang tight, we’re on our way up.”

She was running out of time.  They would never permit her to draw out Benny’s fate as she wished, as she’d dreamed of doing all these years.  The paralytic was fast, but not that fast.  Still, she had no choice.  She might be robbed of meting out her vengeance in its entirety, but she would not be robbed of this.

Grabbing Benny’s robe, she ripped the sash out of it and promptly stuffed it into his mouth.  A searing pain slashed through her abdomen.  She looked down to see a blade in Benny’s hand.  She cursed herself; she was better than this.  She knew Benny always kept one or more weapons within reach.  Ignoring the pain, she grabbed the dagger-like blade from his fast-softening grip then reached behind him, extracting a small handgun as well.

Footsteps were clearly audible on the stairs now.  Judging by the triumphant look in Benny’s eyes, he thought they were his guards responding to his shout. 

Nicki pushed open Benny’s legs and settled herself between his knees.  Looking into his face, she let him see the near-maniacal gleam in them.  “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this,” she whispered.  With one hand she grabbed his manhood; the other held the blade she had taken from him.

Benny’s muffled screams were like music to her ears as she took one effective swipe.

Fisher broke through the door first.  “Jesus Christ!” he yelled, freezing as he tried to process the scene before him.  Nicki barely moved as if transfixed, holding Benny’s severed member in her hand, covered in blood.  She was only vaguely aware of his presence.

“Fucking hell!  Nix, Nix, sweetheart, look at me,” Fisher commanded.  She did.  She turned her head slowly, seemingly oblivious to Benny’s anguished, choking screams.  Her eyes were silvery, like the moon; her expression, completely blank.