Willing Sacrifice (Knights of the Board Room) (49 page)

The other man bolted, headed for the door. When he got there, it hit him in the face, because Dale bounced the heavy metal off his forehead, dropping him like a stone. Max stopped in mid-pursuit, his expression settling when his former master chief gave him a nod. “All clear. Aaron and Billy took out the guy watching the back entrance.”

Janet watched Max brace himself with hands on his thighs, drawing a breath, then he straightened, nodded back. Dale pushed open the door for Neil and Lawrence, who were dragging in an unconscious Leo and his companion, as well as a third man. The man watching the back, she assumed. Marcie and Dana were helping. When Billy and the invisible Aaron didn’t come in, she assumed they were continuing to stand watch. Dale confirmed it, touching his earpiece and acknowledging they were in a concealed position outside.

She jumped at the short, crisp puncture sound of three shots, muffled by a silencer, and Lawrence emerged from behind a stack of crates. It was where they’d dragged the three unconscious men. Janet wondered if he’d have done it right there in the open, if “civilians” hadn’t been present.

She was feeling intangible, as if her mind was floating above all this. Max was free. She should be running to him. Yet something in her was silent, unresponsive. She stood at the rail, held on to it, stared down at the scene as if she was watching a play.

Dale raised a brow, sweeping a glance over Max’s mostly naked body. “You’re underdressed. There are women present.”

“And one of us can’t take advantage of the view, damn it all,” Dana said. Though she spoke with her usual sense of humor, her tone was strained. She had her arm around Marcie, and Janet saw Marcie was limping, as if she’d turned her ankle.

“Next time, remind me to wear my hooker Nikes instead of my hooker stilettos,” the girl said.

“It was your own fault,” Dana snorted. “You just had to be sexy.”

“She’s got my vote,” Neil said. “She looked hot as hell when she throat-punched that guy. Like Kate Beckinsale in latex, only blonder. I like blondes.”

“Yeah, don’t even try it,” Dana advised. “You may be a badass SEAL, but her fiancé is a complete motherfucking psycho. In a really good way, but you still don’t want him to think you’re hitting on his girl.”

There was some more banter back and forth. All with dead bodies lying around them, others executed behind crates. She shifted her gaze back to Dana and Marcie. They seemed fuzzy to her and she focused, harder. Except for the limp and Dana’s cut lip, both looked okay, though Marcie was pale and her participation in the banter was more limited. It made sense. The girl was tough, but she probably felt like a rookie cop dealing with her first homicide, up close and personal.

Neil had found Max’s clothes, and he’d pulled on the jeans. Dana said something to him, but Janet didn’t make out his reply. Marcie reached out to him, touched his bloody shoulder, and he gave her a short, reassuring nod. He was formal, all business though. No time for sentiment or niceties. Not in this place.

“Billy said it looks like Dino’s on his way,” Dale said, tapping his earpiece. “Boat just pulled up to the dock, and a couple more assholes like these jumped off, tying it up. Looks like he’s traveling low key, just him and those two, not wanting to attract attention. He’s expecting his reinforcements here. They got him into a car before Billy could pull off a shot, but I figure we don’t want to use the sniper option outside this building anyway if we can avoid it. No telling what eyes we got out there. ETA probably five minutes. You want to stay in place, Max, keep him off guard until the last moment?”

Max’s eyes were still wild, but Janet could see him pulling it together. It was remarkable that anyone could switch gears that fast, but he did, the muscles across his shoulders rippling as he squared them.

“Yeah, that seems the best play. How you want it to unfold, Master Chief?”

“I think we need to get the civilians, capable as they are, out of harm’s way.” Dale gestured to Marcie and Dana. “How about you go up there on the mezzanine with Janet? Neil, Lawrence, let’s get these bodies up there, prop them up in the office so when Dino first comes in, it’ll throw him off.”

“Yeah.” Max picked up on his line of thinking. “It’s a metal building, so he’ll think that’s why they didn’t get his advance call that he’d arrived.”

Dale shrugged. “Not foolproof. He may still spook, in which case we have Billy out there, and can go the sniper route. But if he comes into the building, he’ll see them up in the office and be ready to hand out an ass whipping, thinking that they aren’t watching his back or overseeing the prisoner the way they should. He’ll also think the blood on the ground is yours, especially if we go ahead and grab these tarps, throw them down over the worst of it…”

She hadn’t thought about phase two. She’d only thought of what would be needed to get Max out of here. But it made sense. It would end here, tonight. Suddenly, she felt sick. Turning, she rushed into the office where Manny had said she’d find the bathroom. Manny who now had a bullet through his head. She made it to the toilet just in time, dropping to her knees over a non-working bowl of dubious cleanliness, but it was better than throwing up on the floor, since that was where she ended up. When she finished, she closed the lid, pushing away from it so she was on her backside against the wall. Hearing Marcie and Dana coming, she scrubbed her hands over her face.
Pull it together. Ice, ice, ice.

It must be working, since that felt like what she’d thrown up, icy shards gouging out her insides. There was no time for anything, and she hadn’t spoken to Max. He hadn’t looked toward her. No…no, he had. A quick glance, verifying she was okay. That was all there was time for right now, really. Right? But what if Dino was more prepared than they expected? What if he got off a lucky shot? What if…

“They’re coming.” Dana came into the bathroom, helping Marcie hop over the threshold. “Dale says we stay down until he gives us the all clear. It should be over pretty quick.” She slid down on one side of Janet, Marcie the other, and they each took one of her hands. “Janet, you’re so cold, honey.” Dana chafed her hand between two of her own, which felt warm as a furnace in contrast. But it was a distant revelation.

“Dana, I didn’t talk to him.”

“In a few minutes, you’re going to have a lifetime to talk to him, and now’s not the time. We barely said two words to him either. His head’s still in the game. He made sure you were okay, and that’s all he’s going to process until it’s all over. Sshh, now.” Dana rubbed her cold fingers some more. “Let me tell you, I wish I’d had eyes to see Marcie drop that piece of shit outside. Hit the ground like a sack of oranges. Girl, you have mad skills.”

“Same goes.” Marcie squeezed Janet’s hand. “Lot of bodies though. I knew…I didn’t really expect Lawrence to do that. You know, shoot them like that. I get it, why he did it, but still…too many bodies.”

“I know. It’s okay. Put it away for now. We deal with it later.”

Given how out of it she felt, Janet suspected Dana’s firm reassurance was probably directed to both of them. In Marcie’s voice, Janet heard what was echoing against her hollow insides. She and Marcie were the only ones not military-trained, and on top of that, Marcie was twenty-three years old. She’d likely never seen a body in her life. Let alone chopped one’s head off on purpose.

Janet choked on a giggle that sounded like it should come out of a clown’s mouth in a Stephen King novel. She pressed a fist against her lips.
Hold tight, hold tight. Ice, ice, ice.
Like a cheerleader. She’d thought about being a cheerleader in junior high, but dancing consumed her, and she was in a school for the arts before the opportunity presented itself.

Max. Max. Max.
She thought of the blood on him, the bruising, the murderous light in his gray eyes. Her hands tightened on Dana’s and Marcie’s as if she was holding him, but she wondered if imagining it was all she was really capable of doing at the moment. She didn’t even feel as if she could lift her arms. Marcie gave her an extra squeeze but then let go, shifting across from them, positioning herself behind the toilet. She had Dana’s nine millimeter and cocked it. Though she kept the nose up, her body was angled toward the door. Prepared, just in case.

* * * * *

When Dino came in, he wasn’t happy. His gaze flitted over Max, bloody and bound in the chair, barely conscious, the tarps around him spattered with body fluids. That made him feel somewhat better, but his attention shot up to the office where he saw Leo’s profile, the other guys bent over a table with him like they were playing cards. Which meant Manny and Javier were jerking off somewhere instead of watching the door. If he didn’t kill them, he was at least going to fucking fire them. “Leo,” he shouted. “What the hell—”

Max stood, snapping up the muzzle of the gun he’d been holding behind his back. He took out Dino with a tight grouping to the chest, a final one to the head. Dale’s shot dealt with the other man. As Max moved to pull the gun from Dino’s belt, he sat back on his heels, watched him die. The man gave him a final sneer, but Max saw the fear. Then he was gone. It was done.

Well, the killing was done. It was going to be a hell of a clean-up job. Dale was already on his radio, having Billy and Aaron bring the van to the shipping entrance where they could pull it all the way inside. The scene here would be scrubbed, visible blood washed away, and another layer of grime would cover anything else in no time.

In the meantime, the bodies would be loaded up, taken to the border and dumped where cartel disputes were commonplace. The bullets would be dug out of them. By the time they were found—if they were found—the coyotes would have reduced any forensic evidence to nothing, and it would look like just another dispute between warring drug factions. Maybe it would motivate Dino’s crew to take out a bunch of guys from the rival group. A win-win.

“You look like crap,” Dale commented. “Way you’re moving, I’m betting they cracked a couple ribs.”

“Yeah.” Even so, Max kept staring down at the body. “I didn’t want you all to be part of this. Didn’t intend for that.”

“Yeah, because you being dead and this POS still being on the loose is a better scenario for everyone. We’ve saved one another’s asses plenty of times. This is just another of those times, bro. The team succeeds where the individual fails, remember?”

Neil nudged Max’s haunch with the butt of his rifle while Lawrence gripped him under the arm to give him a lift to his feet. “Don’t be such a drama queen, Ack Ack,” the shorter man said. “We didn’t do it for you. We did it for your hot friends. Too bad they’re all taken. Though if you don’t stop being such a pussy, the one that’s yours is going to start looking at me. I think I already caught her staring at my ass…”

Janet. Oh fuck, Janet.
It was like his mind suddenly re-engaged to full throttle, with a painful grinding of gears. He left Dale and Lawrence, was running up those stairs, holding his side to make it as fast as possible. He almost tripped over Marcie at the bathroom door, saw her check the gun with a startled oath.

“All clear,” he managed, but he was looking for one person only. Since the bathroom was so small, Marcie did her best to get out of his way gracefully, wiggling past him in the small space to step out into the hallway. Reaching in under his arm, she grabbed hold of Dana’s hand, guided her out as Max practically vaulted over the petite black woman to get to Janet.

She was sitting on the floor, looking down at her hands. He remembered that look too well, from the hospital, from the times the past grabbed hold of her and wouldn’t let go. He put his hands over hers, covering them. Maybe he shouldn’t have, because his had blood smeared on them. Her eyes lifted to his. Held. His Mistress began to cry, but she seemed unaware of it, her gaze so unblinking, tears running down her cheeks, her hands limp inside the grip of his.

“It’s over,” he said, and he heard the hoarseness in his own voice. Exhaustion would hit him later, along with a lot of pain, because they’d beat on him like a frigging piñata, but for now, there was this. “It’s done.”

She nodded. “Okay.” She started to get up, and when he helped her, he thought she was like a mannequin, stiff and rigid. She shifted her gaze to the door, where Marcie and Dana stood by the mezzanine rail, watching them. “One of you should call Rachel. Tell her we’re on our way. Hopefully neither Max nor Marcie will need hospital care, but if you do, we’ll figure out what to tell them. Luckily, no one was shot, because the police…” Her voice cracked.

“Janet.” Max closed his hands over her shoulders. “Look at me.
Janet.
”

She shook her head, put both palms on his chest. Closed her fingers on his flesh, digging into his chest hair, the chest hair he knew she liked. Then she was tugging, clawing, striking, her face screwing up in pain and rage, like an oncoming tornado.

When Marcie murmured to Dana, and Dana began to step forward, he spoke sharply. “No. Let her go. Get out of here. Let me handle this.”

He didn’t know how they responded to that, because everything but Janet disappeared for him as she started screaming at him. Incoherent but terrible sounds, accusing, enraged, despairing. She punched at his face, his torso, hitting bruised ribs, but he didn’t let her go, kept grimly hanging on as she fought him, hammered on him.

Her screaming became a cry of rage so visceral it reminded him of a savage creature, driven mad by pain. Until one word slipped out. “Why. Why.
Why
…”