Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series) (35 page)

“I can’t hear what the idiot is saying. Turn up the volume,” Hunnicutt demanded, his face grim, his mouth turned down in a furious frown.

“As you can see, firefighters are trying to contain the flames,” the reporter said, using the chaos on the street as his backdrop. “Again, there’s been no word on the BH-Xpress delivery driver, and we’re still waiting to discover the extent of injuries the man trapped in the overturned car has suffered.” The camera panned out as the reporter extended his hand to the left, revealing the entrance of a hospital. “Other than a few shattered windows, the damage from this latest bombing has been contained and there have been no other injuries reported.”

The screen switched to the CNN newsroom. “For those of you catching up, there’s been another bombing, this time in the Wilshire District of Bloomington, Indiana, outside of Southwest Hospital. Earlier today in Denver, a BH-Xpress plane exploded during takeoff. With this latest explosion, one wonders if these bombings are as random as they’ve seemed, or if BH-Xpress is the real target.”

“Turn it off,” Hunnicutt said, his voice low, seething. “Now.”

Since Ric was in the kitchen, Santiago rushed over and shut off the TV.

“Santiago, wasn’t I specific?” Hunnicutt asked, steepling his fingertips. “Didn’t I say that the explosion was to happen in Rosewood Estates?”

“
Si
,” the Columbian replied. “I personally placed the C-4 on the truck. I also double checked the driver’s route. He must’ve changed—”

“Enough.” Hunnicutt slammed a hand on the throne chair’s armrest. “I don’t want excuses. Damn it, there’s no do overs and now the Rose Wood link is lost.”

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” Ric said as be brought a tray into the room.

Hunnicutt glared at the man. “Explain.”

“No one will suspect you’re behind destroying your own plane and truck, and possibly damaging your company’s business.”

“I’ve got the Vice President and several senators and congressmen in my pocket, and the Director of the FBI is a close friend. No one would suspect me anyway, you fool.”

Ric dipped his head. “Of course. Regardless, you should probably make a few calls. The press will want a comment and I’m sure the Director—”

“What the hell do I pay
you
for? Take care of—” Honey Badger’s cell phone rang. “That’s probably him now.” He looked at the phone’s screen. “Oh, joy. It’s Liliana. The bitch can wait. I’m not in the mood to listen to her.” He glanced down at Rose and the wickedness in his eyes worried Harrison. He’d witnessed that same gleam several times today, and when he did, each time things ended badly for Mickey.
 

“Vlad,” Honey Badger called. “Bring Mickey into the room.”

“Sir,” Harrison said, tasting a new kind of fear. Hunnicutt made it clear he would be leaving with Rose soon, and he suspected the time had come to tie up any loose ends. “My brother—”

“Come now, Harrison.” He stroked Rose’s hair as if she were a dog. “We can’t let all of your hard work go to waste. Rose needs to see the masterpiece you’ve created.”
 

The woman cringed and jerked her head back.
 

Hunnicutt chuckled and yanked on the twine binding her to the chair, then grabbed her arm. “It’s been a while. By the end of the night, my touch will be as familiar as it was eight years ago.” He looked over his shoulder when Vlad brought Mickey into the room. “Actually,” he began and faced her again, “after I show you the surprise Harrison made for you, we’ll go into my bedroom and reacquaint ourselves. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you naked.”

Her pretty face contorted with outrage. “I
let
you touch me once. There was never anything familiar between us.”

“Your memory is obviously skewed.” He dragged his thumb across her mouth, then lower until he held her by the throat. “I’m going to enjoying giving you plenty of reminders. But first, Harrison’s gift to you.”

Hunnicutt released her when she gasped and her eyes widened with horror. Smiling, the bastard turned toward where Vlad stood, holding up Mickey.
 

Harrison hadn’t seen his brother since he’d been forced to take the knife to his torso. Although it had been several hours since he’d cut Mickey, blood soaked the t-shirt clinging to his brother’s skin. Mickey’s head hung forward, his injured leg to the side with no pressure on it. If Vlad wasn’t half-carrying him, Mickey would probably fall to the hardwood floor.
 

Filled with hatred and sadness, he fisted his hands and dropped them in his lap. Never in his life had he felt more trapped. Not even in prison, when he’d been caged behind bars and his every movement watched. There, they’d at least been treated humanely and had been able to countdown the days until freedom. Here, there was no compassion, only pain. And absolutely no hint of freedom.

“Harrison,” Hunnicutt said. “Go to Mickey and move his shirt so Rose can see what you’ve done for her.”

Impotent, powerless and vulnerable, Harrison stood and approached his brother. When Vlad made eye contact, he saw no sign of the Russian who had given him advice. Instead, the man’s ice blue eyes were devoid of any emotion whatsoever. To think he’d trusted Vlad. Thank God he hadn’t told him about the program he’d uploaded in the laptop. Then again, both he and Mickey might have been put out of their misery by now, instead of suffering their different tortures.
 

“Do it,” Hunnicutt demanded. “I’m anxious to be alone with Rose.”

“Please, don’t,” Rose sobbed. “Oh, my God. What have you done?”

“
I
didn’t do anything,” Hunnicutt said. “Harrison did this for you. Now stop your damned crying. Your face becomes ugly when you cry, and I’d prefer to be face to face when we…rekindle our intimacy.”

“You mean when you rape me.”

Harrison’s hands shook with rage. He knew in his gut Rose would suffer worse tortures than he and Mickey combined. He just hoped her death would be swifter than his and Mickey’s.
 

“Rape is such an ugly word,” Hunnicutt said, his tone censuring. “I’m not a rapist. I’m a man who gets what he wants.”

“You
are
a rapist,” she taunted. “A rapist and a mass murderer.”

The loud smack that followed made Harrison’s face hurt. He turned just as Rose’s head tilted back, a red handprint already forming on her cheek. Her free hand flew to her face as more tears filled her eyes.
 

“Any other names you’d like to call me?” Hunnicutt asked. She didn’t say anything and, instead, wept softly. “Good. Harrison, make it quick. Show Rose your brother’s stomach.”

Harrison’s gut seized with a cramp. His throat tightened with the urge to cry alongside Rose. He looked to Mickey’s face and gingerly touched his brother’s head. Leaning closer, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Mick.” He blinked several times to stop the tears from coming. “I promise. Not that much longer.” Even though his brother had yet to respond and had showed no sign of consciousness, Harrison hoped he could hear him and forgive him.
 

He looked over Mickey’s head. Vlad kept his eyes forward, but clenched his jaw tight. Maybe the Russian prick felt something after all. Not that it mattered. Vlad had his own agenda and it didn’t include him or Mickey.

Not wanting to deal with an angry, impatient Hunnicutt, Harrison reached for the hem of Mickey’s t-shirt. Wet blood instantly coated his fingertips. He drew in a deep breath through his nostrils, tried his best to keep his emotions together and slowly tugged the shirt.

The cotton had stuck to Mickey’s wounds. As much as he didn’t want to hurt his brother, he knew how to make this as swift and painless as possible. “Brace yourself,” he said to Mickey, then whipped the t-shirt up his body.

Mickey cried out and shot his head back. His good eye flew open. Wild with pain and accusation, he shifted his gaze around the room until it settled on Harrison. Breathing hard, his face twisting with agony, Mickey stared at him. “Got you into this,” he slurred, his eye rolling back before closing. “Never…meant…love you, bro.”

“Touching,” Hunnicutt said with heavy sarcasm. “You make a better door than a window. Move so Rose can see the note you wrote on my behalf.”
 

No longer fighting the tears, Harrison let them bathe his face. Keeping his focus on Mickey’s face, he held the shirt high and took a step to the side.
 

As Rose cried for his brother, he did, too. And instead of seeing the anguish contorting Mickey’s bloodied face or the damned duct tape around his eye, he saw the smiling, chubby kid his brother had once been. Dozens of memories hit him. Making forts out of blankets in the room they’d shared, exploring the woods in the local park, playing football and basketball, shared birthday parties…hiding and holding each other while one of their mom’s latest live ins used her as a punching bag.

He cried for the boy who’d never had a chance. For all the plans they’d made and would never accomplish. He cried for his twin—his other half.

“What do you think, Rose?” Hunnicutt asked. “Personally, I’m rather fond of this particular message. It’s so much more personal than the others.”

“You’re sick,” she cried, her voice filled with overwhelming grief and disgust. “He needs a hospital. He needs—”

“To die,” Hunnicutt finished. “Ric, Santiago, take Mickey into the warehouse and shoot him. Put the body in the back of Santiago’s car. He and Vlad can dispose of it when we’re finished here.”

While Rose protested, Harrison met his brother’s gaze. Instead of fear, his eye held relief. Mickey had given up on life. And in that instant, all thoughts of wanting to be put out of his misery alongside his brother, fled. The need to live, to carry on and do something good and right, outweighed the urge to want to curl up and die. Revenge for Mickey, for Rose, for all of the people Hunnicutt had murdered revived him and had become just as important as breathing.

 
“Stay out of trouble,” Mickey said, gasping for air. “You
are
the smart one. Don’t be me. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t.” But he would. He’d fight the fucking billionaire and celebrate killing him. “I…I don’t know what to say.” Tears trailed down his cheeks. This would be the last time he saw his brother alive. The finality of the moment…how could he come up with the right words?
 

A small, half smile tilted the corner of Mickey’s mouth. “Remember Samantha Green?”

Harrison used his shoulder to wipe the tears from the side of his face and gently tugged the stained t-shirt over Mickey’s body. “The prettiest girl we’ve ever seen,” he said, completing the lame rhyme they’d come up with in junior high.
 

“I lied to you,” Mickey said, his breath catching when Santiago grabbed his arm. “She did like you best. Everyone did. I’ve been jealous of you our whole lives. But I loved you more than anyone.”

“Enough,” Hunnicutt shouted. “You haven’t strung together two words all day and now you won’t shut the fuck up. Get Mickey out of here. Rose and I want to be alone.”

Harrison’s heart raced and he quickly took Mickey’s hand. “I love you, Mick,” he said on a sob. “I…how am I going to do this alone?”
 

Mickey’s strength surprised him when he gripped his hand back. “You never needed me. I was the one who needed you.” He hung on tight, even when Santiago was pulling him backward. “Remember that and the good times.”

Mickey’s hand finally slipped from his. Harrison kept his gaze locked on his brother’s as Santiago dragged Mickey from the room and through the kitchen. Ric held the door open for Santiago. After the Columbian hauled Mickey through the door, Ric sent Harrison a ruthless smile and then followed Santiago.

His heart and his head ached. In a matter of minutes, his twin brother would be dead and Rose would be raped. Raw hatred hardened his aching heart. He fisted his hands and glanced at Vlad. The Russian hadn’t moved and continued to keep his gaze locked on the wall.
 

“Harrison, return to the sofa,” Hunnicutt said. “Now.”

He leaned forward. “Fuck you,” he whispered to Vlad.
 

The Russian blinked, but remained still. Harrison didn’t look at Hunnicutt as he moved to the sofa, but he did glance at Rose. The sadness in her eyes gave him no solace. The tears she spent on him and Mickey weren’t worth her effort. For what he suspected Hunnicutt would do to her, they were better saved for herself.
 

*

“There’s another door here,” Dante said as he moved across the utility closet.

As soon as Jake had heard Hunnicutt tell Ric and Santiago to execute Mickey in the warehouse, they’d snuck inside the closet. He wasn’t sure who Mickey was, or where he fit into Hunnicutt’s plans, but he had a brother named Harrison.
 

Dante cracked the door open and peered outside. “Don’t see them.”

“Including Hunnicutt, there were six men in the room,” Jake whispered.

“Three of them are in the warehouse.”

“I say we rush them. You go after Ric and Santiago and I’ll go—”

“No. We stand down and follow orders.”

“They’re going to kill that man.” The darkened utility closet made it difficult to see Dante’s reaction. But the SEAL had to realize they couldn’t, in good conscience, let a man die without doing a thing to try and stop it. “We have to do something.”