Brainrush 04 - Everlast 01: Everlast (15 page)

“There,” I said, pointing to two sets of headlights
flickering through the trees below.

We waited anxiously as the cars wound their way along the
road. They sped past the road leading to our position and their taillights
disappeared around the corner.

“Whew,” Timmy said. He started up the car and steered it
down the dirt road. “It’s about time we had a little good luck.”

We were halfway to the main road when the truck’s headlights
appeared around the distant corner. The two cars popped into view behind them.
The caravan was slowing as it neared the intersection below us.

“Crap,” Timmy said. He put the SUV in reverse and sped back
up the road.

“No,” Ahmed said. “The backup lights will give us away. Shut
it down!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Sarafina said. “They’re coming up here
anyway.” The truck had turned onto the road, its headlight beams bouncing as it
climbed our way. Our four-wheel-drive SUV kicked up gravel and dust as it raced
backward up the hill.

“They may know the roads but they’re not going to be any
more familiar with the dense part of the jungles than we are,” Ahmed said, his
voice jumping as the SUV lurched over a bump. “Put on your backpacks and get
ready to run.”

By the time we reached the clearing, the truck and the two
cars were a third of the way up the hill. Timmy swerved to avoid the
unconscious boss man on the ground and then stopped the car at the far edge of
the clearing. We were out of the car in an instant. Timmy scrambled around the
back. He reached through the broken window, grabbed the last duffel of money,
and ran back to his open door. That’s when I realized the motor was still
running. “Head for the trail we were on yesterday,” he said. He threw the bag onto
the front passenger seat and jumped in behind the wheel. “I’ll catch up.”

Ahmed said, “What are you—?”

“There’s no time to explain,” Timmy said, slamming the door
closed. “I’ve got a plan but it’s not going to work if you don’t hightail it
out of here. Go!”

“No way we’re leaving you behind,” Ahmed said, grasping the
door handle. But the car leaped out of reach and raced across the clearing. As
Timmy passed the boss man, he tossed the duffel of cash out the window.

“Why did he do that?” Ahmed screamed.

“It doesn’t matter. We have to do as he asked,” Sarafina
said, taking my hand and turning up the hill. “And pray that whatever he’s
planning works.”

Ahmed stomped his feet in frustration, but the act seemed to
help him accept what was happening. “May Allah guide you,” he said before
spinning to catch up with us. “Quickly.” He took my other hand and tugged me up
the slope toward the ridge we’d been on when we first spotted Mama Bear in the
cage.

I glanced over my shoulder as we made our way up. I could
still make out the SUV’s red taillights as it moved through the trees, heading
down the road.

On a collision course with three sets of headlights.

J
AKE HAD WEAVED A ZIGZAG
course to lose the
Asian gang pursuing him in Holland. He’d used a tour boat, two busses, a taxi,
and a train to travel from Amsterdam to the Rotterdam airport. The trip hadn’t
been without incident. He’d nearly lost it when he spotted two men at the
airport glancing at an image of his face on one of their cell phones as they
scanned the crowds. He’d watched in disbelief as a local police officer
approached the duo and they’d flipped out Interpol badges. If they were
involved because a BOLO had been issued, it meant every CCTV camera in Europe
was searching for Jake. He’d detoured around them, ambling toward the ticket
counter, grateful he was wearing the same disguise he’d worn on the flight to
Amsterdam. He’d used his false identification to board a flight to Rome, all
the while wondering how the hell the people after him had mustered the support
of European law enforcement.

It was nearly midnight when he slipped into the rear
entrance of the three-wing hospital. The long hallway was dark, illuminated
only by the emergency lamps above the stairwells and elevator doors. He
hesitated in the shadows, listening for any signs of activity as he removed his
baseball cap and disconnected its 9-volt battery. Timmy had passed out the hats
during one of their prep sessions. The whole gang had been there, including the
kids, and they’d gone over the procedures everyone would use if the emergency
message ever went out.

“The capabilities of facial recognition software have grown
exponentially in recent years,” Timmy had explained. “With more and more
cameras being installed in virtually every major metropolitan area on the globe,
going off the grid takes on a whole new meaning. But every system has its flaw,
and a person’s facial features can’t be analyzed if they’re invisible to the
camera.”

The dozen crystal protrusions embedded into the emblem of
the baseball cap emitted infrared light invisible to the naked eye, but not to
the lens of a camera. The light obscured the wearer’s face, making it glow like
a bulb so facial recognition software ignored it.
I owe you one, Timmy
,
he thought, folding the cap and stuffing it into his pack.

 He padded to the first stairwell and studied the facility
map beside the door. There were six floors, including the basement level.
According to the nun who’d answered the phone when he called earlier pretending
to be Marshall, Lacey was in room 437. He opened the stairwell door and climbed
the steps.

When he reached the fourth-floor landing, he cracked the
door open and peeked down the hallway. The lighting was subdued, the hallway
was vacant, and he heard heart monitors faintly beeping from the darkened
interior of open doorways. A pair of soft voices drifted from around the far
corner, where he suspected the nurses’ station was located. He moved forward
quietly, counting down the room numbers. When he reached Lacey’s room, he
hesitated. The video had been very graphic, with Lacey having suffered severe
burns. He braced himself for what he would see then slipped inside, closing the
door behind him.

A privacy curtain surrounded the bed, a halo of dim light
from the equipment within making it luminous. A heart-rate monitor beeped slow
and steady. There was a private bathroom, a wardrobe, two sitting chairs, and a
door to what Jake assumed was an adjoining room. Horizontal blinds covered the
sole window.

He stepped forward, pulled the curtain aside, and a swell of
despair washed over him.

Lacey’s head and face were covered in bandages, a few strands
of scorched blond hair slipping through the seams. One eye was covered
completely, and the exposed parts of her blistered skin shone with a greasy
coating. A thick breathing tube ran into her mouth, connected to a mechanical
ventilator. Her legs were covered by a blanket but more bandages were wrapped
around her torso and arms, only the fingers of one hand having been spared any
direct damage.

Jake had to grab the bedrail to steady himself. This woman,
this close friend, filled with more energy and enthusiasm than anyone he’d ever
known, loyal, faithful, and immensely capable—reduced to this limp and charred
form that lay before him, machines forcing her to cling to a life that would
never be the same. She’d been a server when he met her at Sammy’s in Redondo
Beach, and he’d been a daily customer trying to drown the pain of the news his doctors
had given him. Then his life had spiraled out of control and she—and so many
others—had been caught in the vortex, yanked across the globe from one
desperate situation to the next, each time surviving by the narrowest of
margins.

Until now, he thought, his hands trembling. 

All because of me.

His numbed mind didn’t have time to react to the footstep
behind him. Thick arms suddenly locked around him, lifting him from his feet
and trapping his thighs against the bedrails. He tried to twist free but it was
no use. The bear holding him simply grunted, and the vise-like grip tightened
to the point that it felt like his ribs might collapse. Jake was about to attempt
a backward head-butt when the form on the bed sat up and pressed a pistol into
his chest.

Jake froze.

The brute holding him said, “Yer can go standin’ up...or in
a body bag.” The hot breath smelled of whiskey.

Jake could barely register the man’s words. He gaped at the
bandaged woman, whose single unveiled eye glared at him. The phony breathing
tube lay loose on her lap and her exposed lips widened into a toothy sneer.
“Gotcha!”

“Y-you’re not Lacey.”

“What did ya think?” the man holding him said. “That we were
gonna serve ’er up on a platter for yer? Now listen close, laddie. I’m gonna
loosen me grip so I can secure yer arms behind yer back. Don’t be a gobshite
and think for a second that my girl won’t blast a hole in ye if ye try anything.
Got it?”

Jake nodded, staring dumbly into the unflinching eye of the
woman holding the gun. His emotions reeled as the truth sank in: Lacey hadn’t
survived the explosion after all. These people, whoever they were, had been
waiting for him, which meant the explosion that had killed Lacey hadn’t been an
accident.

And these two were responsible.

The realization unleashed a savage instinct within him to
exact revenge. He relaxed his body to set the man and woman at ease as he
expanded his senses, allowing his mind to absorb his surroundings, flashing
through possible angles of attack, predicting responses to each, and finally
settling on a course of action.

The brute lowered Jake’s feet to the ground and loosened his
grip. Jake faked a stumble and allowed his weight to fall backward into the big
man, who took a step back but maintained his grip. Jake didn’t fight it.
Instead, he kept his muscles relaxed and allowed the man to pull Jake’s arms
behind his body. He smiled inwardly as the girl leaned over the raised bedrail
in order to keep the pistol aimed at his chest.

The girl first. Ignore the gun. Knee to the jaw to snap
her neck...

The big man adjusted his grip to hold Jake’s wrists together
with a single hand as he pulled what Jake guessed was a zip tie from a pocket.
The woman’s eye narrowed and she leaned further forward.

Right about n—

The creak of a door hinge stopped him. He heard someone
approach. Whoever it was must have been hiding along with the Irish brute in
the adjoining room. The beefy grip on Jake’s hands shifted and a zip-tie slid
around one of his wrists. He coiled his muscles—

“Jake, is that you?”

The words short-circuited his brain. He turned and blinked.
“Lacey?”

“Jake!” she said, charging forward and throwing her arms
around him. The brute released his grip and Jake hugged her tight.

“I thought you were dying,” he said, choked with emotion.

“And I thought you were in Amsterdam,” she said, pulling
away. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, as if afraid to ask the next
question. “Did you find them?”

He sighed. “There was no sign of them. What about Marsh?”

 She shook her head, and Jake reached out to pull her back
into an embrace. But she stepped back, her expression fierce. “We saw the
bastards who took him. They came for me, too. That’s why we faked the
accident.” She turned toward the big man and the woman on the bed. “I’d have
been taken, too, if it weren’t for my friends. They set the whole thing up.
Pete, Skylar, I’d like you to meet Jake Bronson.”

“W
ELL, I’LL BE DAMNED
,” Skylar said with a hint
of a Texas accent. She lowered the bedrail and slipped to the floor. She wore
slim jeans and hiking boots below her bandaged head and torso, giving her an
odd look. After tucking the pistol under her belt, she held out her hand. “It’s
a pleasure to meet you. Sorry I almost killed you.”

He took her hand and appreciated the strong grip. “Yeah,” he
said. “Me, too.”

“You wish,” she said with a sniff as she reached around the
back of her head to unsnap a two-part head mask rather than rolls of bandages.

“Heard a lot about ye, lad,” Pete said, engulfing Jake’s
hand in his. “Lacey’s been filling us in.”

“Yeah, well, you can believe any of the bad stuff she’s told
you about me, but I’d advise taking anything good she said with a grain of
salt.”

The big man had a commanding presence, with a rugged face
that would’ve suited a pirate captain on the high seas. Yet his gaze was warm
as he smiled at Jake’s comment. “No worries there, ’cause I don’t recall her
saying anything good about ya.”

Jake grinned despite the situation. Leave it to Lacey to
attract a crew that knew the value of keeping it light. “Thanks for helping her
out of a jam.”

“Of course. That’s what we do.”

Motioning toward the bed, Jake said, “So, what was this all
about? Why the charade?”

“They took Marsh and you’re the only one who checked in on
the secure site, so I figured they got everyone else, too. It was either fake
my death—”

“Which is what I advised,” Pete interjected with a scowl.
“So ye could’ve stayed out of harm’s way.”

Lacey rolled her eyes. “But I figured it was smarter to keep
me alive, so to speak, in order to lure them in to finish the job.”

“Then we’d nab one of them,” Skylar said. She was wiping the
makeup and grease off the part of her face that had remained exposed around the
mask. Jake guessed her to be around thirty. She had shoulder-length blond hair,
a sassy smile, lots of freckles, and one green eye and one blue—that is, until
she leaned forward and removed the blue contact lens she’d worn to match
Lacey’s eye color.

    “You and your friends held yourself out as bait for
killers,” Jake said to Lacey. “It never seems to end, does it? I wish Marsh and
Tony had never gotten you involved with me in the first place. You don’t
deserve—”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Lacey said, her arms
crossed. “You never dragged any of us into anything. Especially me. Life is
about choices, Jake, and I’m not going to stand by and let you paint me as some
kind of will-o’-the-wisp that changes direction with the wind. I’ve made my own
way in the world and I’m proud of it. And being here with you right now is all
about the choices
I
made, not you. And I wouldn’t change a single one of
them. Sure, life sucks sometimes, but that’s just the way it goes. Hell, you
know that better than anyone...” Her voice trailed off and she frowned, as if
regretting the words. The moment passed. “The point is that it’s not your fault
we’re in this mess. The only ones to blame are the assholes behind it all.” Her
face flushed and she balled her fists. “And dammit, they’re going to pay!”

He accepted the barrage, appreciating her words even if he
didn’t agree with them.

Pete placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “Unless ye have a
better idea, I suppose we’ve still got a job to do here, am I right?”

Jake still didn’t know where Marsh or any of the others had
been taken. Grabbing one of the guys who’d been closing in on Lacey might be
their only play.

“Son of a bitch,” Skylar said. “Are you telling me that I
gotta mask up again? Hell, I was just starting to feel like a human being.”

“Sorry, lass,” Pete said.

An electronic chirp sounded from behind them.

Pete’s head swiveled around. “I’ll check it out.”   

He’d barely gotten the words out when two more chirps
sounded. “Check the window,” he said, running into the adjoining room. Jake
followed him. The room was a twin to the one behind him, though the bed was
empty. The rolling food table beside the bed supported an open laptop that
provided the only illumination in the room.

“Shite!” Pete muttered. The computer screen was split into
four quadrants. Each one streamed alternating video feeds of the hospital
corridors and stairwells, one of which revealed four armed men in helmets and
assault gear moving slowly up a staircase. A fifth man followed. He wore a black
ballistic vest over civilian clothes.

The man in charge.

 “Three cars out front,” Skylar said breathlessly as she and
Lacey pushed into the room. “I caught a glimpse of two teams heading around
either side of the building.”

“Jaysus,” Pete said. “Our plan is banjaxed. I guess we
weren’t the only ones layin’ a trap.” He pointed a finger at Jake. “These
fellows must want ye pretty damn bad to send an entire squad.”

“They must have figured I’d come here,” Jake said, swearing
at himself for the oversight, another sign he wasn’t thinking straight. “I
should’ve known better.” His hand was moving before he finished the sentence,
slipping around Skylar’s back to pull the pistol from her belt.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” he said. He removed the magazine and tossed the
pistol on the bed. The magazine felt lighter than he’d expected and that’s when
he noticed the bullets were small hypo darts.

“What the hell did you do that for?” Lacey said, picking up
the weapon and handing it back to Skylar.

“Nobody else is going to get hurt because of me,” Jake said,
moving toward the door. “I’m giving myself up before they ever reach the room.
They think you’re near dead so they’ll leave you alone and that’ll be the end
of it.”

“Bullshit” Lacey said, grabbing his arm. “If you go, I go.”

“Don’t be stupid, Lace. It’s the only way.” He pulled away
and found Pete blocking the doorway. His arms were crossed like a bouncer’s at
a club entrance.

“For a man with a super brain, yer sure acting like a
thick-headed gobshite. Listen up good, ’cause I’m only gonna say this once. If
ye wanna go, go. But ye aren’t leavin’ with those darts, and we three aren’t
leavin’ until we grab one of those men and wring the truth out of him about
where Lacey’s husband was taken.” He glanced at the laptop screen. The four men
in the stairwell had just passed the second-floor marker. “I figure we’ve got
about forty seconds before they get here. I’ll let ye use five of ’em to make
up yer mind.”

“Lace?” Jake said.

She moved beside the Irishman, crossing her arms to match
his pose. “What he said.”

Jake had seen that look plenty of times before. Nothing was
going to stop her. He blew out a breath and tossed the magazine to Skylar, who
caught it and slammed it into the pistol in a single sweeping motion, all while
glaring at him. Jake shook his head and turned back to Pete. “I assume you’ve
got a plan to get us out of this mess?”

Pete grinned. “I’m full of plans, laddie.” He pulled out a
smartphone, opened an application, and tapped the screen. One of the quadrants
on the laptop switched to a view of three shadowy figures dropping to the
sidewalk from an external fire escape at the far end of the building.

“Who’s that?” Jake asked.

Pete paused the video and pointed to himself and the two
women. “Just another day on the film set for us movie stars. We staged it
earlier.”

“Clever.”

“Let’s go.”

They moved back into the first room. Pete closed the
adjoining door behind him.

He then flipped off the room light and cracked open the
door. “Room 440,” he whispered. “Third door down. It’s empty. Go.”

Jake padded down the hall and into the room, the rest of
them following. He closed the door behind them. Skylar had retrieved her head
mask and was stuffing it into a large duffel.

 “No sense in advertising that Lacey’s injuries were faked,
right?” she said.

Good thinking.

She set the duffel on a gurney next to the empty bed, then pulled
out three EMT jumpsuits and caps. She passed them out and she, Pete, and Lacey
slipped them on over their clothing. They also donned surgical masks. Jake
settled for pulling on his baseball cap. He didn’t know what the plan was but
the level of prep was encouraging.

Pete opened a separate app on his phone and a checkerboard
of thumbnail videos appeared. He tapped one and a video image of the outside
corridor filled the lower two-thirds of the screen.

“How many cameras do you have set up in this place, anyway?”

“Sixteen,” Pete said, his voice clear despite the mask.
“They’re wireless throwaways. Motion activated. We use ’em all the time.” He
angled the phone so that Jake and Lacey could get a better look. Jake tensed
when the stairwell door opened and the assault team moved silently to either
side of the closed door to Lacey’s room. Pete swiped the screen and a view of
the interior of the room filled the window.

The first two men entered the room with military precision, swiftly
panning the room, their weapon-mounted flashlights on. One checked behind the
curtain and around the bed while the other checked the bathroom. “
Sicuro
!”
the first soldier reported into his headset when he’d cleared the room.

“
Sicuro
,” the second one said, coming out of the
bathroom.

An Italian special ops team? Jake thought.
Why the hell are
they after me?

The two remaining operators entered the room, followed by
the helmetless leader. He placed a palm on the bed. He spoke in Italian, a
language Jake was fluent in. “Still warm. They can’t be far.” He pulled a
walkie-talkie from his belt and said, “They’re still in the building. Cover all
the—”

He stopped when Pete tapped the remote app and the laptop
double-chirped in the adjoining room. They watched on the screen as all four
operators swiveled their weapons toward the closed door. The leader motioned
toward two of the men and they quickly exited the room.

“They’re going to breach from both doors,” Pete whispered.

The leader stood half in and half out of the corridor,
coordinating the action. When both teams were in position, he nodded and the
operators burst through the doors. Pete switched the view to the adjoining
room, chuckling under his breath as the men surrounded the laptop. The leader
pushed between them. His face turned red as he studied the screen, and Jake
knew the man was watching the recorded video of three people climbing down the
fire escape. The man spun around and raced for the doorway, shouting so loudly
into his walkie-talkie that his voice echoed down the corridor.

“They’re getting away. Fire escape at the south end of the
building. All teams converge!” He disappeared down the stairwell with three of
the operators hot on his heels. The fourth one took up a guard station in front
of the room. A nurse stormed down the hallway to confront him.

“You’ll need to stay here for this next step,” Pete said to
Jake as Lacey and Sky moved to either end of the gurney and maneuvered it to
the door. “We should be back in less than sixty seconds.”

“You want me to stay here?” Jake asked. “No way that’s gonna
hap—”

“Jake,” Lacey said, “we’ve gotta move fast, and the way
you’re dressed you’ll stand out like a sore thumb. I’ve always trusted you in
situations like this. It’s time for you to do the same.”

It felt as if every nerve in Jake’s body was twitching to
move. Being a follower was never his strong suit. “Okay, but leave me the
phone. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

Pete hesitated, then nodded and made a quick entry on the
phone before handing it over. He pointed to the app that occupied the top third
of the screen. “I shut down the remote control app and replaced it with this
one.” There was nothing there but a pulsing red button. The bottom third of the
screen still streamed a live camera view of the corridor, where the guard was
preventing the nurse from entering Lacey’s room. “As soon as we come abreast of
that gaggle, press the red button.”

“What’s it going to—?”

“No time, laddie. Just press the button and be ready to
follow us out when we come runnin’. If anything goes wrong, head for ambulance
number 723 in the basement garage.” Pete swung open the door, took hold of the
leading edge of the gurney, and pulled it into the hallway. Lacey guided the
rear end, winking at Jake as she passed by. Skylar followed, one hand stuffed
inside the zippered pocket that held the hypo pistol. The door swung closed
behind her.

Jake watched them on the screen, his finger twitching over
the glowing red circle. Three seconds later they were in front of the guard and
he pressed the button.