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That didn’t make any sense. “Wasn’t Mark monitoring radio chatter around the club?” I asked. “He should have been able to give you a heads-up.”
Maksim snorted from where he leaned against the metal doorframe between the alley and the kitchen. “Except there was no radio chatter. It was completely silent until the alarm was tripped, and the one fucker who had managed to barely survive didn’t say shit. Silent as a fucking mime.”
“Or a mute.”
We all turned to look at Kenzi, who was washing her blood-covered hands off under the spigot on the wall.
“What do you mean mute?”
Kenzi snorted. “You know, like can’t talk? Silent. Suppressed. Quiet. Take your pick.”
“Why the fuck would you think they’re mute?” Vas eyed her skeptically.
Shutting off the spigot, Kenzi whirled around to face the tall Russian, hands on her hips. “Did they make any noise at all? Did you hear them shout out orders to each other or scream when they were hit?”
“Well,” Vas stuttered slightly before looking defeated. “No.”
“That’s what I thought,” she reprimanded him before turning to Matthias. “Did you look inside their mouths?”
Vas sneered. “Why the fuck would we do that?”
Kenzi ignored him, focusing her attention on Matthias, who shook his head.
“What about radio chatter?” she continued. “You said Mark didn’t hear any, but was that just words or was he listening for anything else?”
“Like what?” Matthias questioned.
“Knocks. Tics. Tones,” she explained. “Anything like that.”
Matthias eyed his men, who all shook their heads.
“I’m not sure.”
“Great,” Kenzi huffed. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and hit speed dial.
“What’s up, Kenzi?” Mark’s voice filled the alleyway on her speakerphone. “Kinda busy.”
“Aren’t we all,” she drawled. “When you were motoring the comm lines near the club, did you pick up on anything?”
“Nah,” Mark denied. “There wasn’t any chatter on any frequencies in the area. Just the hangar and the bar. Why?”
“You’re sure you didn’t hear anything at all?” Kenzi questioned further. “Not just voices. Any kind of tapping or tones that didn’t quite make sense?”
Mark’s silence was all the confirmation we needed.
“Well, there was this kind of…beeping sound that was embedded in the radio frequency, but it was random. Or sounded like it anyway.”
“Did it sound a little like Morse code?” she asked him. “Long beeps and short beeps.”
“Yeah, a bit, but I thought it was just static,” he told her. “I thought it could have been Morse code at first, but none of the words would have made any sense.”
“Perfect. Thank you for your help.”
“Wait—” She hung up on him.
“They’re called Timbres,” she breathed, one hand white knuckled her cell phone while her empty hand clenched and unclenched at her side. Kenzi was scared. “I don’t know much about them, just that they’re deadly. Rumors floated around that they’ve wiped out whole corporations in bloody massacres, leaving no trace behind.”
“So what?” Vas scoffed. “Only mutes can apply? That doesn’t make any sense.”
