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“Did you get hit?” I’m on instant alert.
“I barely feel it,” she admits, glaring at the house. “Just happened.”
Barry jogs up to her side to converse with Carter, and I pull her close, her muscles shaking. “Too much to ask for you to stay in the car?” I want to know.
“I’m going to make him pay for every last insult, including this, because as sure as I’m standing here, it’s going to scar,” she snarls. “What’s the plan?”
“We’ve got him cornered in the house, but that doesn’t mean he’ll stay there. The doors and the windows are in place, but who knows if they’re secure or not.” Carter stares at the nearly complete house as Barry sends off a round of messages. “He didn’t take any of the men in with him.”
“Who knows how many are waiting on the inside. He chose this place for a reason.” Isabella marches forward. “I’m going in!”
I groan, making to follow her when Carter grabs me by the elbow. A jerk of his head has Barry trailing her instead.
“We take the front, they take the back, and if he’s not inside, then we figure out our next move.” His retort brings me back to myself as much as anything can. “First thing’s first, Ricardo. We get him secured. Then we find out where he’s keeping Edward.”
Carter takes the lead. I trail him, a fumbling oaf in the face of his precision.
I’ll never lead this family the way he does, not even if I spend the rest of my life mimicking him. We’d have backup here within the next ten minutes and more men fanning out from this location once they arrive. Until then, it’s the three of us and Isabella going around the back.
A chilly rain pelts the ground, the dark sky overhead hiding any hint of clouds. I tilt my face upward, and the drops help me be a little more alert.
Carter peers at the front door before a swift kick has the wood splintering and the flimsy lock falling apart. Every step, every breath, has to count in this case. Even with the extra clips, one more mess up, and everything we’ve worked for tonight is done.
And Isabella…Isabella is?—
A yell from the rear of the house sends a bolt of pure lightning through me. Someone is yelling; it might even be me, and a deeper, darker roar sounds just above mine. The walls are up inside, the sheetrock mudded but not sanded yet. And when we round through the main living room into the dining room, there's Isabella with a weapon pointed at Drago’s head and Barry pressing his entire weight into the small of the man’s back.
It’s the fastest takedown of my career, and I can’t even claim it as my own.
Isabella’s chest heaves, and despite a slight trembling in her wrist, she’s immovable. Invincible.
“No shootout this time,” she growls. “Your men are dead, Drago. And they won’t be the last bodies to fall.”
On his stomach, face to the floor, the man is in a powerless position. But he laughs. And he keeps laughing even when Carter stalks over and kicks him in the side. Barry transfers his shoe to the man’s cheek and grinds down.
“Ricardo, get the nylon rope from the trunk.” Carter’s eyes have gone violent and bright. “Now.”
“Enjoy your fun now. You’ll be ruined once the others arrive.”
Drago’s words taunt me on my way outside, and the first blast of chill autumn air to reach my lungs feels like a cattle prod.
One more step. This one went surprisingly well. One more step to get Edward back, and then the war will be done.
The fat man stares at us, and as we approach, his lips twist in a snigger that makes me want to rip his heart out of his chest. “Did you ever stop to think I made this easy on you? That in allowing myself to be captured, I’ve set other pieces and people into motion?”
“If it’s true, then you won’t mind if we break a few of your bones to loosen up?” Carter works his head from side to side until the kinks disappear. “A finger to start, your wrist…” he purposely trails off.
I have to remember: we’re all upset. We’re all seeking retribution. I’m not the only one who feels the loss and the disadvantage, not the only one wanting to cause pain and suffering. The monster inside of me, the one who won’t be satiated until we’ve made Prokhor and his entire operation pay, is the same monster inside of Carter. And Isabella.
Normally, I would step back and allow my uncle to do all the dirty work for these interrogations. I’ve sat in on a few of them before to watch, learn, only stepping in when Carter gave the go-ahead.
This time, however, I pull out my gun and train it on Drago without blinking.
“I know damn well someone like you won’t be content to let another step in and work his operation,” I reply. “We’ll make this simple. You tell us where to find Balestra, and we will make it a clean death, no broken bones, and absorb the rest of your syndicate.”
We have the upper hand here. He’s cornered, and with our men securing the development, there’s no way he’ll be able to pull a fast one on us. Not without suffering some devastating losses.
Drago isn’t the kind of man to sob and plead. He will, however, do whatever he can to obfuscate and throw us off his scent.
