I Beleive Now (14 page)

For just a moment the guard stood still. Then, as if he was slowly coming out of shock, he started to fumble with keys attached to his belt. The jingling noise they made seemed to not only echo in the night but last forever as he tried to find the correct one. Lucca started to think the man was just going through the motions of pretending to look for a key he didn't have. He'd have to make some sort of excuse because he probably was ordered to not open the back. He'd know there were no children. What the fuck was Lucca going to do then? Was it true Tyler was trying to double-cross him?
Now?
He realized just how vulnerable he was at the moment. If he was to discover the back of this truck was empty they'd have to kill him. If Tyler's men had been ordered to take him out in such a case he was totally exposed and at their mercy.

But again, why would Tyler do that? There was no reason at all to double-cross them at this point. But even if Lucca could not come up with a valid motive why a betrayal now, it didn't make it an impossible event. He liked to think of himself as intelligent. One of the reasons for thinking so was because he was aware he that did not know everything. He had no idea why or how an empty truck could be beneficial to Tyler, but at this point, physically, there was evidence it was possible. He looked into the truck window again and it surely seemed those children were in there. They even seemed to be looking up at him even as he looked at them, their little faces all concerned. Then just as he reached up to touch the window, as if touching it would give him the proof he needed, the guard stepped forward holding a key. Lucca took it—he'd need it anyway—and inserted it into the lock. When the door swung open, Lucca could suddenly hear the low chatter and whispers. There was also a sudden wave of body odor that hit him like a brick.

No doubt, the kids were fucking real.

"Close it." He had enough evidence. He could calm his heart now. Tyler was not double-crossing them. He'd still have one of his own men accompany the driver to the airport, just to be sure there were no mishaps, no wrong turns, but Tyler was not double-crossing him. Right now he was even feeling a little generous. He might even allow Tyler's driver to live when they arrived at the airport, just as long as he left immediately. Lucca walked toward his vehicle and his people, intending to let the chain of events continue to flow.

Then suddenly his brain was registering a noise.

What the hell? Now what?

Sirens?

Fucking police sirens?

Lucca spun around right where he stood. If that police car was headed here, they had trouble. He needed to make them back the truck into the warehouse. He waved his hands in a "go back" motion as he ran toward the vehicle, noting the men just inside the warehouse were also gesturing wildly and yelling for the driver to move.

Finally realizing what he was supposed to do, the driver threw the truck into reverse and quickly backed it up into the warehouse, the door starting to close even before the truck was completely inside. Lucca turned again, making a motion and shouting to his own men to move his car into the deeper shadows alongside the buildings and hold tight while he made a mad dash for the side door of the warehouse. The sirens sounded louder and louder every second and it would have made more sense for him to duck into his own vehicle but he needed to keep an eye on that truck.

Why the hell were the police coming? Had someone tipped them off? If they were indeed coming here, would they really come screaming in like this? How much sense did that make? But everyone moved like they thought exactly what he was thinking, which was duck and cover.

Then another thought hit him. Maybe they weren't even coming to this particular warehouse. There was crime going on down here all the frigging time. The police did not have to be headed here. He ran to the door of the warehouse and started to pull on the handle but one of Tyler's guards had grabbed it at the same time from the inside and opened it, the force of the swing out landed Lucca hard on his ass.

Shit!

"What the holy hell!" Lucca ground out through his teeth. He scrambled to his feet and nearly knocked the guard down as he barged into the darkness of the warehouse just as the sirens seemed to be fading to another part of the industrial park. He never even saw any flashing lights.

They really hadn't been coming here.

Thank whatever gods were looking down favorably at him at the moment.

Lucca bent over, putting his hands on his knees. Fucking
shit
! That had scared the living crap out of him. He realized he was breathing as hard as if he had just run a fucking mile uphill. He straightened back up and looked in the direction of the truck. It was still there, all the dents and dust, the driver sitting behind the wheel wiping sweat off his forehead.

Looks like I'm not the only fool.
He let himself laugh a little. He saw the man he had handpicked to ride next to Tyler's man, heading for the truck.
He must have come in behind me
, he thought. However, Lucca decided to change it up. He was going to do it. He was going to ride with the truck. He strode quickly forward and elbowed his man out of the way. "Never mind, Sam. I'll ride. You follow in the car." He climbed up into the cab. "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The driver just stared at him with a look of near shock on his face, sweat almost pouring from it. Lucca thought it odd the man was so badly spooked. But then he did know firsthand good help was hard to find. The driver recovered quickly enough though, put the truck into gear just as the big door was once again opening, and without a word, drove it back out of the warehouse, Lucca riding shotgun.

* * * *

Lucca never saw the switch. They had practiced it to perfection. As the truck with the real kids roared backwards into the warehouse, the truck with the dummies, the one behind the fake wall, also roared to life. There was no reason to think anyone, including Lucca, could hear it above the commotion created by the sirens. Matt, the driver of the first truck, cranked the wheel hard to the left even before the big door completely closed. He hit the accelerator and swung the truck around as it slipped neatly behind the fake wall. The second truck with the dummies took its place at the door, as if it was the one that had backed in just moments before. The driver dove out, expecting Matt to be right there to climb up to make the switch complete, but he wasn't. Matt had tripped. It added seconds to the plan—seconds they did not have. No one moved as Matt picked himself up off the floor and dashed toward the waiting open truck door. He needed to be in the driver's seat before Lucca came crashing in and Lucca was now at the door. But Gregg had been on it. He'd reached out to the door Lucca was coming in from and slammed it open, banging it into Lucca and landing him on his ass, effectively buying back those lost seconds.

When the big door came down the final time, after the second truck had left, there was an almost audible sigh of relief. They had pulled it off.

But just barely.

CHAPTER TEN

Finally at the airport and at the hangar specified by Jackson, Max stepped out of the limo. He had told Cadum in no uncertain terms he was to open the door for him then climb back in the bulletproof car and wait. Max knew there was at least one sniper. Both Jackson and Lucca were unpredictable and volatile, even now in this eleventh hour when they both thought they had won. Max's information should be correct but there was always a possibility things may not go the way he planned. If nothing else, if things went badly, Cadum might be able to grab Max and rush him to a hospital, but Cadum had to be alive in order to do that. It was one of the contingency plans.

But there was another one—the one concerning things going badly for Asher. Of course they had discussed it. They had studied it. Max knew his men would do exactly what he expected if things went in that direction. He had the confidence his men knew him that well, they'd be able to discern the circumstances, and come to the same decisions and actions once everything started rolling.

He met Cadum's eyes just once and knew his man would comply but waited until he did before walking forward toward the person in shadow standing next to a dark car not twenty yards away. He resisted the impulse to look up, to see if there was danger coming from the roofs of the hangars. It wouldn't have done any good anyway and since he did not want to alert Jackson to the fact he knew about the sniper, he'd keep it a secret for the moment. But he did let his eyes wander all around the area where Jackson was standing. Where was Asher?

"Max Tyler?" Jackson's voice was low but Max heard it.

"Yes." He stopped about ten feet away, just close enough so, with the light shining on Jackson, he could make out the other man's facial features. He knew it was him. He just wanted right now to be sure. Things were just off at the moment and too close to completion to not move very methodically. "I understand the plane is ready to take off?" He could see the lights of a plane sitting on the runway behind Jackson. It looked rather large for this small, obscure airport but it had to be in order to load and carry the truck he had insisted the children stay in. He had been told it was actually an old military aircraft, probably another favor Jackson called for. Those favors had to be running a bit thin by now.

"Yes, it's right out there." Jackson turned and motioned toward the airfield. "I trust you do not need to inspect it, make sure the truck is on board? The sooner it takes off, the sooner we are in business. You have the flash drive on you?"

Max sighed. Here it was. The moment Jackson had to be waiting for. If the flash drive was on Max, he'd probably give the signal to shoot. If it was not, he had to wait to make sure he knew where it was before giving that signal. In any other circumstance, Max would have set it up so as not to have the flash on him. He'd first guarantee his subordinates' safety then allow the transfer of product. In this case though, Max had not planned it that way. Things had changed when they couldn't find Asher. He also wanted things done as soon as possible and having the flash on him was the quickest way to make that happen. However, for the moment, he wasn't going to answer the second question. He needed to give his men as much time as possible in case they had not yet found the shooter. But they were going to. He was certain of it. Plus he needed to know where Asher was. "I don't need to inspect it. I've heard from my people Lucca picked up the truck as scheduled without any issues. I'm sure both you and Lucca are satisfied now I am not double-crossing you."

Jackson shifted on his feet. Max saw the irritation written all over Jackson's face because Max had ignored his second question. As much as his confidence rose when he had one upped him, he was most likely now feeling uncomfortable and exposed here, no longer sure of Max's objectives. Max knew he was questioning, far, far too late, whether or not he could he have missed something.

"I asked about the flash." Jackson said, spitting, totally annoyed.

"Then I will ask about Asher Madden."

* * * *

Jackson flinched. Should he just assume the flash was on Max and give the signal? If it wasn't, there could be trouble. Would the great Max Tyler walk into this situation carrying it himself? He hadn't thought about it. He didn't think he needed to. He just made the assumption Max was going to be worried so much about his lover that he would tell him right away. "You know I should be angry with you about what it was you tried to do tonight. I really have the right to kill him, now don't I?"

In a voice that sounded positively deadly, Tyler spoke. "If Madden dies, you won't be leaving alive either. The deal was all of that"—Tyler waved his hand toward the waiting plane—"and the flash for Madden's release. Now where is he?"

"Don't worry, he's here." Jackson felt the color drain from his face. He did not like facing this dangerous man alone. He figured he'd have to show the brat sooner or later. He was just hoping to wait until Kyo arrived. It would be very sweet indeed if, right before Jackson gave the signal to shoot, Max Tyler knew he had lost his precious kitten to the very man he had asked to come to Chicago. But things were definitely going to pick up some speed here very shortly and even if things didn't go well—if the boy was killed or even if Kyo was killed—as long as the route was open and he had the flash, everything was going to be grand—for him.

The only issue was that damn flash. If it wasn't on Max, he didn't know where to find it and even if he tortured the man standing in front of him, and only if he could take him alive—which he highly doubted was even possible—he'd never tell. And unless Kyo was somehow killed, it wasn't as if he needed the damn thing. It was just that Kyo was convinced it would have the correct information on it and to have it just floating around out there… Well, he couldn't let it happen. Everything else was following the plan. This was the only stupid, irritating part defying him. He should have had a contingency plan for this. He should have known Max wasn't just willingly going to give over the flash before he had Madden back. He just assumed the thing would be on him. Was it time to end this?

Maybe it was.

He had a mountain to bring down and in the best of situations, it wasn't an easy task. The flash itself was not important. If it wasn't here, they'd simply have to deal with it. Soon, Lucca was going to be in direct contact with the head Japanese yakuza anyway. Was it really time to just end this? Right now?

He decided it was.

Then, like in a dream, he saw Max reach into his suit coat pocket and pull out a small black box. He held it up for Jackson to see.

"Here is the flash. It has everything you need. You can have this as soon as the plane takes off and I have Asher Madden back."

Oh yes, the plane. He had almost forgotten about the plane. He'd allow Tyler to live for a few more minutes while he gave the go-ahead to his pilot. No sense at all in having the plane still on the ground when the bullets started to fly. Yes, indeed, he wanted everything neat and tidy. He pulled out his phone and quickly pressed a single number. Yes, yes, yes. The plane needed to be underway. Nothing could go wrong now. The part of the operation that was completely and totally out of Tyler's hands was actually the bigger part—the plane and the pilot—since they were both Jackson's doing. For this journey, Jackson had to give Lucca credit. Somehow, he had been able to make sure Max didn't have any of his own men on board. He had to ask him some day about that conversation. It must have been a good one.