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The four men prepped for an assault to rescue Casey and Claire. They all found and changed into dark clothing, checked their weapons and packed their tactical gear bags.
Yoda still hadn’t come back with an answer.
Ryan glanced over at Hutch and decided to do the guy a favor. He faked a cell phone call, sending it from Glen Fisher’s burn phone to Hutch’s.
Five feet away, Hutch grabbed his phone when it rang. “Hutchinson.”
“Now you just received a call from Glen Fisher telling you where you can find Casey’s body,” Ryan said. “Your ass is covered with the Bureau.”
Hutch gave him a tight smile. “Thanks. But it wouldn’t have mattered.”
“I know. That’s why I did it.”
Yoda interrupted their conversation, supplying them with the critical information. “Tracer has found the phone. Location is 275 South 2nd Street, Brooklyn. Accuracy is within three hundred wavelengths, based on the cell phone frequency.”
Ryan’s head snapped up. “Yoda, I need distance, not wavelengths.”
“Fifty meters, Ryan, as you requested.”
“That’s all I needed.” Ryan grabbed his gear. “Yoda, delete all traces of what went on here this evening—down to every last communication.”
“Deletion under way,” Yoda responded.
Ryan turned to the other three men. “Come on. We’re out of here.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jack entered the warehouse through the back door, an unconscious Casey slung over his shoulder.
“Here. As promised.”
“What took so long?” Glen demanded. “You were only driving a couple of miles. It’s been over an hour.”
“There was an accident. I couldn’t get around it. No worries. I just gave Sleeping Beauty some more chloroform. She’ll be out of it for a while.”
“I want her awake.”
“She will be. Hang in there.” Jack bent down and dumped Casey’s limp body unceremoniously on the concrete floor.
Glen gazed at her. He couldn’t help smiling. Finally. Lying at his feet. At his mercy. She was all his. He leaned over and fingered a lock of her red hair. This was going to be every bit as satisfying as he’d expected.
“Hey,” Jack said, watching his uncle’s irked reaction turn into a pleased one. “Is it time for my reward?” He jerked his thumb in Claire’s direction.
“Not yet.” Glen waved him away. “Not until I’ve had my fill of Casey Woods. I’ve waited a hell of a lot longer than you have. Plus, I don’t want the psychic screaming and distracting me, or ruining the mood I have in mind. You can have her later. Red can watch—and know that it’s all her fault and there’s not a damn thing she can do about it.”
Jack rolled his eyes. More waiting. He wanted to punch his uncle in the gut. But he wasn’t going to take him on—not at this point. It wasn’t worth the hell that would ensue. He’d waited this long. He’d wait a little longer.
But not happily.
“Fine,” he said in a voice that clearly sounded pissed. “I’m going out to Carmine’s for a thin Sicilian.” He paused to wink at Claire, who was staring at Casey. “I’ll be back for my dessert— a blondie.”
As soon as Jack left, Glen went to work. He began to yank off Casey’s layers of clothes, which only took a few minutes. She was a petite woman, and it required very little juggling to get her as naked as he wanted her.
That done, he dragged her over to an area of support beams, and stretched her out on her back. Pulling her arms above her head, he anchored them around one of the beams. Grabbing some of the rope he had nearby, he bound her wrists tightly together.
Shifting his attention downward, he couldn’t resist pausing to eye every inch of her body—especially the part that declared her a natural redhead. Then he got to work on her legs. He spread them wide, tying each ankle to a support beam, set about five feet apart.
He sat back on his haunches and admired his handiwork
