I jump to the command in his tone like I’m one of his lackeys. My eagerness can’t be helped. The same bristling sensation is in the air now as it was when I followed Demi down the alleyway siding the gym her uncle owned. Greatness is about to happen. I just really fucking hope Justine and Nikolai’s story has a fairy-tale ending.
Loose rocks fall out from beneath my feet when I follow Justine and Trey’s trek through the gorge. I’m not in the gorge with them. I’m following every step they take from above.
A couple of minutes later, I lose sight of them when they disappear under an overhanging rock. They soon emerge on the far side of the cave-like structure, but it’s a struggle to keep watch via the naked eye.
When I instruct the two men next to me to move the SUVs half a mile up, they act as if I never spoke. I’m about to back up my claims with either my fists or the gun stuffed down the back of my jeans, but Asher beats me to it. After unholstering his gun, he pops a bullet into one of the men’s knees. While one screams in pain, the other listens very intently to the words Asher is sneering at him in Russian. I don’t know what he says, but it has the second man jumping to fulfill my demand like I’m a regal prince.
“Thanks,” I say, a little unsure how to respond.
I once believe violence solved nothing.
Now, more than my morals are on the fence.
Asher twists his lips like it’s no big deal before he shifts his eyes back to Justine and Trey. “If you have half the courage she has, you’ll be an asset to Nikolai’s team.”
“I’m not looking for a team,” I reply before I can stop myself.
He throws his head back and laughs as if I’m being funny. I’m not, but since now isn’t the time to prove a point, I continue pacing along the gorge, seeking Justine and Trey.
“J...” My call echoes in the depth of the gorge, but I don’t get a reply. After shifting on my feet to face Nero, I ask, “How deep is it?”
He shrugs. “No fucking clue.” When his reply causes blood to drain from my face, he bumps me with his shoulder. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Ox.” When he snickers out ‘knickers,’ he nudges his head to the collection of fake tattoos I got earlier this week peeking out of the collar of my shirt. “Trey sent K away with Eight so his focus could be solely on Justine. He won’t let anything happen to her. He can be a prick when he wants to be, but under the scruff is a real fucking softie.” He chuckles like he’s shocked by his own comment before adding, “If he weren’t, he would have peeled your fake tats off your body with a knife. Not even real patriots cover themselves with that much home heritage.” When I tug on the collar of my shirt, he chuckles even louder. “I look forward to hearing the story behind them, but for now, how about we keep our focus on the task at hand?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” I mutter under my breath, annoyed but also grateful he isn’t going to drill me.
It takes another thirty or so minutes before we get word from Trey and Justine, but thankfully, it’s good news. Nikolai has been found. He’s pretty nicked up and sporting a broken leg, but he’s alive, and to Justine and the men surrounding me, that’s all that matters.
“Let’s load up and head out before the po-po drop in for a visit,” Nero commands while slapping my back in euphoria.
I return his gesture, my gratitude uncontainable. All I ever wanted was to do a bit of good for my community. Although I’m far from Ravenshoe, it’s embedded in my sister’s bones, so technically, today’s victory places a favorable strike on my measly good versus evil scoreboard.
A couple of minutes later, while following Nero’s command as if I’m one of Nikolai’s foot soldiers, the unease in Agent Machini’s voice pinches my eagerness. “I got word Maxsim has been spotted at an airstrip two miles from your location.”
“Is he alone?” I ask, uncaring if I look like a mental patient to Nikolai’s men.
As I dump a bundle of rope into the back of the lead SUV, she answers, “No. There are over a dozen women with him.” My thoughts immediately stray to India, but Agent Machini is quick to shut down that thought process. “Every one of them are wearing white nightgowns.”
“If India’s surrogates are with Maxsim, India must be close behind. The women aren’t Maxsim’s property. They’re India’s.”
Agent Machini’s lack of communication frustrates me to no end, but I’d be a liar if I said I don’t understand the reason for it. My brain immediately switches off when she advises me the Bureau is holding back on storming the private airport hangar Maxsim was sighted in because they believe India’s arrival is imminent.
In under a second, I slot my ass into the driver’s seat of the lead SUV, then take off like a bat out of hell. A handful of Nikolai’s men gripe about my abrupt departure, but for the most part, my flee goes unnoticed.
Justine found Nikolai, so they’ll have their happily ever after, but I’ll never achieve mine if India slips off the radar for another four years. Dimitri’s team has been hunting her for years. This is the closest anyone has got, so I can’t act as if this isn’t my only chance to exact revenge for the death of my unborn child.
“Send the location of the airport to my cell phone. I’ll sync it with the Bluetooth in the Range Rover.” When nothing but silence resonates down the line for the next several seconds, my anger gets the best of me. “Please, Macy, you know as well as I do that India won’t get anything more than a slap on the wrist. You’ve given the Bureau enough information on her to arrest her three times over, yet they always come back with the same response.”
“They need more concrete evidence,” we say at the same time.
“Yes!” I shout while wringing the steering wheel. “So help me to stop that from happening again.”
“I can’t,” she fires back, her words as loud as mine. “You’re not a judge, Maddox. You’re not a jury of her peers, so you have no right to trial her.”
“She killed my baby! She has murdered countless other unborn children! She doesn’t deserve to live.”
“But you do, Maddox. You deserve the peace Demi has now, the harmony, but if you do this, you’ll never have that. You will rot in jail for the rest of your li—”
The click that cuts off Agent Machini’s reply is quickly followed by a unique accent. “A dirt road is coming up on your left. Take it. The airstrip is one and a quarter clicks down.” Although Smith can’t see me—well, I assume he can’t—I lift my chin before pulling hard on the steering wheel. “Feds are swarming the west entrance, so I’ll direct you to the east wing. I may lose you the closer you get. They have blockers in place.”
