I Beleive Now (13 page)

"Kyo. Change of plans, buddy. Seems Max was trying to take your little prize away from you so I needed to take Madden and bring him to the airport. So that is where you need to come too. You might enjoy the fireworks."

"Which airport, Jackson? There are two of them." He winked at Max.

Even from Kyo's phone Max could hear the laughter on the other end. It was very obvious the man was enjoying himself immensely. "Oh no, not in Chicago. Come to Joliet. And you better hurry. Max will be here in forty-five minutes."

* * * *

Kyo swiped his phone off. "Well, at least he doesn't suspect me. I'll need to go separately." He went quiet then, thinking for a minute. And what he was thinking was risky.

"What?" Max barked.

Kyo flinched. "Nothing…but…I might be able to pull your Madden out yet." He then looked at Max and smiled, seeing the barely controlled anger pulling his face into contortions. This was too rich. There was no way he was going to let this escape him. He sniffed as he picked at a nonexistent piece of lint on his sleeve. "It
is
a little worrisome though that this stupid man—as you continue to think he is—was able to pull this off."

The only answer he received from Max was a lethal glare then a growl as he turned to head for his limo. Without a word, Tyler threw himself into the front passenger side and slammed the door. Cadum hurried to the driver's side after throwing car keys at Kyo, got in, and started the car before the door even closed. He spun the wheels, sending dirt and pebbles flying, making Kyo duck and dodge away, and wondering just where Cadum had parked the car left for him. "Damn, Max."

* * * *

Earlier they had come for Asher. They kept him bound just as he was but forced him up and out of the dank, smelly room. Where were they taking him now? It was too early to move him because they just had, hadn't they? The routine he had thought they had was now totally destroyed. Lately they didn't seem to really be following one, but even so, he was sure this was odd. Were things finally ending? Had Max finished what needed to be done?

He was in so much pain from the position his arms had been in for so long, it no longer helped at all for those few moments when they locked him in the bathroom and allowed him to be free. The scrapes and bruises caused by the ropes, and his imagination about what the fuck was happening, made it hard to concentrate on even the smallest things like that. He was never able to overhear anything regarding the plans either. They were extremely careful to say nothing when they were around him. Were they taking him to Max? Or were they taking him out to do away with him? Either way, he wasn't able to ask, but it hardly mattered since they probably wouldn't give him an answer anyway.

They shoved him into what felt like the back seat of a car. He was forced face down on the floor and knew, though he couldn't see, no one else climbed in with him. However, he chose to remain where he was. It was likely to be uncomfortable but he'd think about the fact he was still alive because he really had no idea for how much longer.

* * * *

Jackson paced the floor after hanging up from Tyler.

"Would you fucking sit down? You're making me nervous." Lucca had finished packing a small bag and was headed out to the plane in the next few minutes. He really didn't intend to stay in Japan but he wasn't going to be unprepared to do so if things did not allow for him to return to Chicago immediately. The plan was to return right away, but if Kyo's boss wanted to have him stay longer, he wanted to be able to be free enough to allow for something like that to take place. He was definitely looking forward to meeting the head yakuza. Having him as a partner was a huge step up.

Oh, he had no intentions, at the moment, of doing away with Jackson. It did seem like the guy was golden. He knew that was Max Tyler's doing, but it was likely to take quite a while for the magic to wear off, even after Tyler was dead. When it did, Lucca had no problem making sure Jackson disappeared for good. It would make things much easier, too, if somehow he was able to impress Kyo's boss as well, and to finally find out what the fuck his name was. But he'd be patient. It was information he was going to have soon enough, either because it was on the flash drive Jackson planned to take from Tyler, Kyo himself would tell him, or, better yet from the boss, who would introduce himself when Lucca landed later tomorrow on Japanese soil.

He had remembered where he had heard the name Takahashi Kyo, too, which made him even that much more comfortable with the whole set-up. It was the only name he had figured out from before, nearly a year ago, when he had first tried to intercept the computer chip. After that failure, he had paid hell to try to confirm the information but it never happened. He found out the name Takahashi in Japan was probably as common a surname as Smith was in the states and when you are dealing with the yakuza, you don't mess around with guessing names. But now, not only did he have Kyo in his back pocket, he was on his way to meeting the big man himself—the one behind it all. Yes, his intent was to get in good with that man, make himself indispensable. He'd also—during that time period—see what this boss man and Kyo were actually all about. One or more of even that organization might prove to be troublesome and he needed to know he was always in a position to make sure potential problems would be dealt with swiftly and completely.

It was finally under way. The two of them, Jackson and himself, had gone over the plan again and again, committing it all to memory. There really wasn't all that much to remember. He simply wanted to make sure there were no loop holes, no issues, no chances for change. He needed to be sure everything was going according to plan.

He was not going to allow deviations, would not tolerate them.

He took a deep, cleansing breath. Jackson was now driving him fucking nuts! All his pacing and whining about every little fucking thing. No, he had not called the Red Dragon gang today. No, they had not fucking called him either! Why bother with it? He didn't fucking care if Jackson's stupid ass sixth sense said something was wrong. The kid was already here and wasn't going to be their concern much longer. He'd already found out Max was at the warehouse, thinking he could pull the kid out but it didn't happen. Yes, Jackson, you were right and as much as that even surprised him, everything was still fine and moving in all the right directions. Kyo was on his way here to take the brat off their hands so there was
no more fucking problem!

"What if Tyler won't show up, then? Did you think of that? What if he has had enough and he calls the authorities…"

"Why the fuck would he do that? Why wouldn't he show up? Of course he will. He will still hand over the information and he will still be just as fucking dead! There isn't a problem here!"

And there wasn't because everything continued to go as planned.

But now the guy was pacing the floor; Lucca wanted to blow Jackson's brains out.

"I told you!
Sit the fuck down!
"

Jackson sneered at him but he went to the nearest chair and sat, then proceeded to tap his foot incessantly. The constant noise was going to drive Lucca over the edge just as fast. If he had his fucking gun out at the moment, he would kill the bastard.

CHAPTER NINE

Jackson had just hung up the phone with Kyo again. Kyo could definitely be a whiny son of a bitch, making ridiculous demands or else he was not going to show. He was damn lucky he was able to fit it into his plan because…well…just because.

But it was his plan all along, just like with that fucking Max Tyler, to only give out vital information in the last hour, even to Kyo, because trust was something earned. Plus, that way it'd be impossible for Tyler to find the snipers he had positioned on the roof of the building across the small parking lot just in front of the hangar he was now sitting in.

Or at least that was where Jackson believed his hired guns would be.

Jackson had let those guys figure out their own place from which to attack. But they had assured Jackson they only needed a few minutes to get into position. Evidently one of them had already been to the site earlier, set up, shot a round, knew exactly what was expected and had all the confidence he could do what must be done. He was pleased indeed he had exceptional people on his payroll who had such care for a job well done. So even if Tyler knew Jackson had an assassin ready and waiting in the wings, even
if
he knew there were just the two, there'd be no time to find them. Tyler could pour all of his men into it and they would still be too late to save him.

Jackson took just a moment to wonder how many men Tyler even had. He thought vaguely he should have probably known that detail. Maybe with that thought in mind, he should have had better security on this place, too. But since he had trouble thinking something like how much money the idiot wasted on personnel could possibly make a difference at this point, he gave it only a small amount of time in his busy brain and let it go. And Lucca was right. Tyler had to show. That's what he now decided to think. Even if Tyler did not believe both Lucca and he were truly on the level, wanting to enter into a business contract with him, this meeting was still going to happen.

It was too bad. Doing actual business with the great Max Tyler would have been something. Jackson almost wished he could. Tyler was incredibly intelligent, extremely influential, amazingly dynamic. If there had been any way to have truly controlled the man's power and talent long-term, he'd have done it, but Tyler was like a totally unstoppable, runaway train.

No, that wasn't it. He was a relentless force but not totally unstoppable.

Jackson was going to stop him.

But it was too bad.

* * * *

Earlier that evening Lucca had gone to the warehouse at the appointed time to pick up the goods. He'd been extremely glad he had taken the risk of checking out the vehicle the other night because even though it was now dark, when the truck came into view he was still confident it was the same one. Because, of course what they did not know was he had been here himself and knew everything there was to know about the truck, and the building it had been housed in. Pictures could not give the same detail as his experienced eyes. Even his people, who had also seen the vehicle, could not give Lucca the secure knowledge he had after being a firsthand witness. When it counted the most, it was the only thing he truly trusted.

He waited for the truck to come to a complete stop. They expected him to simply give his blessing, board his man, and let it go on its way. But not yet. He quickly walked toward the back even as he saw Tyler's guards try to stop him. He had only one more thing he needed to do. He had to make sure the actual merchandise he had seen that night, those eight boys and eight girls, was still all there. All it would take was a single look into the back. He boldly continued to approach the truck.

One of Tyler's guards stepped toward him. "What do you think you're doing?"

Lucca stopped. He believed it to be obvious but he supposed they all needed to go through these mafia moments of power and control. "I need to make sure the merchandise is on board."

"I assure you it is. However, if you must confirm it, come forward." He stepped aside and waved his hand at the back window. Lucca smirked and continued his journey. He stepped up to the vehicle and briefly looked in. He saw the sixteen children; he quickly counted them, huddled up in the front, as far away from the door as they could get. They seemed to be curled up on plush couches and chairs, all cozy with colorful blankets and what looked like handheld games. He couldn't quite tell if they were all the same kids or not. It was the only thing he thought could possibly be different. The one thing he hadn't committed to memory was each one of their faces. But it really didn't matter. He didn't care about those details. They were American children, they were alive, and they were in the truck.

He thought it was odd Tyler insisted they remain in the vehicle, even while on the plane. Hard, unchangeable rules, he called them. Not negotiable. Tyler had said something about more barriers between them and harsh reality. The less relocating they went through, the less panicked they'd be. For some reason Tyler felt it was important the children remain calm. Lucca shook his head. It was yet another indication Tyler had lost it. He was more concerned about the children's
feelings
then he was about the ease and cost of transportation. If he had not been surrounded by Tyler's people, he would have laughed, but he was going to need to save the luxury of laughter for later. He had agreed to this particular oddity. What difference did it truly make to the overall plan?

Absolutely nothing.

He turned, intending to motion to his man who was going with the truck, that it was okay now, then head back to his car, content everything was still fine when he caught sight of a desk just inside the warehouse door. The low lights of the lot were spilling in and right onto the surface. It was littered with wires and what looked like leftover AV equipment, as if someone was customizing something, like maybe monitoring devices.

Or a monitor itself.

What the fuck?

Then suddenly he thought about the fact the window in the truck might just be a video monitor. Could that happen? Was it possible it looked like that? Just like a window? If it could, why would Tyler do it?

Simple.

The truck was empty. The monitor was to make him think the children were in the truck when, in all reality, it was empty. Was Tyler finally trying to pull a fast one? He didn't think such a deception was even possible or why Max might attempt it, what it could possibly prove or save, especially now, but the thought occurred to him anyway and he really needed to make sure it was not the case.

"Open this truck. I want to see these children myself." He had to see them with his own eyes, to make absolutely sure no deception was taking place.