Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) (38 page)

“I sent Owl for you,” Lion whispered behind Max.

Max sucked in a sharp breath of air. “Jesus, Lion. Can you guys announce yourselves?”

“No. There are men in the caves. They have my sister. They’ve hung her over one of the oubliettes.”

Fear chilled his rage. “How many men are there?”

“Twelve here. More outside by their vehicles.”

“Show me.” He looked back at Owl, intending to tell him to stay put, but the kid had vanished.

He and Lion moved through the portal into a short access hall. Ten feet below them, another long tunnel led off at an odd angle. Max could see at least two chambers, one close to them to the right, the other farther down to the left. The men below had several lanterns sitting on the floor, lighting their way. They were carrying heavy sacks to waiting wheelbarrows.
 

The height of their vantage point made it difficult to see more than a small section of the chamber in front of them. Steel I-beams stretched across the open pit where the acid pool was. There had to be a room on the other side of the beams, for whatever they were carrying out came from the opposite side. When he’d been there with Lion, it had just looked like a small cubby with electrical panels. He hadn’t noticed any rooms behind that.

He couldn’t see her. “Where’s Hope?” he asked Lion.

“Over there.” Lion pointed to the room he was looking at. “Do you see the rope tied at the entrance? Hope’s on the other end of it. If they cut it, she falls into the pit.”

They had to get in there. Now. “I only see three or four guys. Where are the others?”

“In the tunnels and by their vehicles.”

“All right. We’re going to hit these guys fast, before the others can get back down here.” He looked at Lion lying on the ground next to him.
Fear The Lion
, the tats on his brows proclaimed. Max was about to see how true that held. “We’re gonna keep it quiet so the others aren’t alerted. We want control of that rope so we can secure your sister. Ready?”

“I am.”

They leaped down from the ledge, catching Hatchet’s men by surprise. One was bringing in a wheelbarrow, the other was taking one out—both had their hands occupied. Lion delivered a fast kick to the head of the incoming guy, laying him out cold. Max took the other one. The guy kept a hold on the heavy wheelbarrow, giving Max undefended access to his head. A punch to his temple dropped him like a noodle.
 

Lion was already on his way to the rope when another two men came out of a room on the other side of the I-beam supports. One ran fast across the steel, in perfect balance, gathering his speed for a kick. Max caught his leg and twisted, using the guy’s own forward thrust to break his leg, dropping him to the ground. The other, moving more cautiously, was tall and wide around the middle. When his feet hit solid concrete, he bent forward and lunged. Max turned sideways, kicking out his knee, then fisted his hands and punched the back of the guy’s head.
 

More guys were coming into the chamber. Lion took them, kicking, ducking, dodging. He flipped one, dropping him into another one. The second guy slipped backward, grasping thin air as he tried to stop his fall. He slipped between two of the I-beams and fell into the pool below. His screams bounced against the walls, echoing until he went silent.

Max was six feet from the rope. He spun to grab it, but Hatchet was already there, sawing at the heavy rope. Max pulled him away, then tried to dodge the swipe of his blade, but it clipped his arm. The pain didn't even register. Max kept himself between Hatchet and the rope holding Hope.

“Get out of the way, Mad Dog. I'm just carrying out King's kill order. He wants her dead. He did from the beginning.”

Hatchet lunged forward, then slashed to the right with his knife. Max caught Hatchet’s knife hand and landed an uppercut in his jaw. Hatchet stumbled back a couple of steps. Max went forward.
 

He heard what sounded like a whimper, but with the blood humming in his ears, he couldn’t be certain he’d heard anything at all. He checked Lion’s progress with the man he’d been fighting, and saw him put the last guy down.

Hatchet charged forward again. Max moved aside; catching his shirt and waist, he shoved Hatchet headfirst into a steel beam, cracking bone. With his very last breath, the bastard slashed downward with his knife on the rope before his body went limp. Max roared. He and Lion lunged for the line. Lion caught it and swirled it around his forearm. Hope’s weight on the other end pulled Lion forward across the beams.
 

“Mad Dog! I can’t hold her!” Lion shouted. He was stretched out across two I-beams, the end of her rope in his outstretched fist. Max ran across the beams, dropping flat across three of them as he reached down and caught Hope’s bound hands, hooking a fist between them as the rope slipped from Lion’s hold.

Max pulled her up, into his arms. She had bruises on her face and tape across her mouth. Her hands and feet had also been taped. Her one shoe slipped off her foot as he wrapped his arms around her. It landed with an audible plop in the liquid below, then fizzled as the acid pool dissolved it.

He pulled the tape from Hope’s mouth, then freed her wrists and ankles. They were sitting on one of the I-beams; not a good place to be if Hatchet’s other men came back for another load.
 

As if reading his mind, Lion came across one of the I-beams and stepped through the door behind Max. “Bring her here,” he said.
 

Max nodded, then looked down at Hope. She was trembling and silently crying. He couldn’t assess her injuries until he got her someplace more secure. They had no choice but to move back into the room Hatchet’s guys had been carrying things from.

“We have to move back,” he told her. “Don’t try to stand. I’ve got you.” She turned her face into his neck. Her arms rested between them, useless from the fatigue of having been suspended for so long. He lifted her as he came to his feet, easing back toward Lion.
 

He sat on the hard steel floor, holding Hope in his lap. They were in the little antechamber he’d thought was just an electrical cubby. The steel walls on three sides gave him cover. He wanted to get her back farther, into the other room.

“Is it clear, Lion?”

“Yes.”

He ran his hands down each of her arms, then gently palpated her wrists, which made her whimper. “Sorry. Jesus, I’m so fucking sorry. I just need to check if anything’s broken.”

“My hands feel like I’ve been doing handstands on cactuses, and my shoulders are burning.”

Max massaged her hands and then her shoulders. “How about your legs?”

“They’re fine. Max, are these the acid pools you were looking for? My shoe fell off and it dissolved in the water. And that man—”

“Yeah. It’s an old leaching well from when the silos here were active.”

Lion came over and knelt beside them. He reached a hand over to take one of Hope’s. She tried to squeeze his hand, but hers wouldn’t cooperate. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, splashing onto Max’s arm, each like a razor blade nicking his heart.
 

He’d done this to her; he should have sent her on her way that very first day. This was what happened when he arrogantly thought to bring joy into his life. He shredded the thing that gave him joy. Always. Every fucking time.

“Hope, stay here a minute. Don’t move. I want to see what Hatchet’s men were up to.” He looked at Lion, silently ordering him to stay with his sister, then went through the doorway into the next room. Dim lantern light cast an eerie glow over shelves and shelves of crates filled with gold jewelry, coins, and ingots. A whole wall was taken up with pallets stacked high with several layers of gold bullion.
 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
 

“Lion, how many of these rooms are down here?” Max asked as he stepped back out into the anteroom.

“Three.”

One by each leach well. Max knelt next to him. “This is what you and your pride watch over, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

Jaysus
. What kind of bastard set children to guard gold and pools of acid? Max needed to get word back to Kit; the team had to know about this. What they decided to do about it was up to them. None of it was his concern any longer. His only worry right now was how to get Hope out of there and off the WKB compound.
 

A distant rumble, an echo of an echo, spilled into their tunnel. They’d dealt with seven of the dozen men Lion had originally counted; the threat to King’s gold still remained…and with it, the threat to all of the work that Max had done over the past weeks.

He was off the team, but he couldn’t leave everything in this critical state. He couldn’t be found down here. “We need to get out of here. Hope, can you stand?”

She nodded. “I can. I think.” As if to prove her words, she stood up. Her knees were as wobbly as a new colt’s.
 

The rumble he’d been hearing grew to a full roar. “They’re here!” Lion exclaimed.

“Who?” Max asked.

“Your team. I called you, but didn’t get an answer, so I called Kit.”

Max felt a curious blend of relief and anger. “Hope, don’t move. Don’t try to get out by yourself. Lion, stay here and guard her. She’s my life.”

A man tumbled past the opening to the well. Lantern light spilled across his face. Max recognized JT, the eastern region VP. Aw, hell. Hatchet had sold Pete out.
 

What happened next did so in a jumbled blur of noise, blood, and pain. JT lifted his gun as Hope got to her feet. Max heard the blast. She pushed him back, then slammed into him, dropping them both back against the steel wall behind them as Kit and the guys charged into the well room. One of the guys took out JT.

“Kit—stay where you are!” Max shouted. “That’s not water—it’s acid. The leach fields I told you about.”

“Got it. You okay, Max?”

“Yeah. We’re okay. Is it clear?”

“Yep. Looks like you did some damage of your own.”

Max laughed. “Lion’s a helluva fighter.” He hugged Hope, relieved now that he could get her out without further trouble. She didn’t react, didn’t move. His hand came away wet from her back. “Motherfucker. Hope. Hope!” He took hold of her shoulders. Her head lolled back.
 

“Get a light,” he ordered Lion. The kid scrambled to retrieve one of the lanterns in the gold room. Max leaned Hope back and checked for blood on her chest. There was none, but when he looked at her back, she was bleeding profusely.
 

“Hold her!” he ordered Lion. He ripped off his vest and tore his shirt off. He tore the bottom half off and wadded it against her wound, then used the rest to tie the wad in place.
 

“Give me a status, Max,” Kit ordered.

“Hope’s been shot. She took a fucking bullet for me.”

“Can you move her?”

“Yeah.” Max lifted her, carrying her over his shoulder as he stepped out of the little anteroom and onto one of the I-beams. Hurrying across it, he barely felt her weight.
 

“Blade, get him to the clinic,” Kit said. “I’ll have Greer get a medical evac to meet you there. Max, give Angel a sit-rep as you move. Kelan, stay with Max. Go!”

“I’ll lead the way.” Lion jumped in front of them as they ran through the earthen tunnels on the mineshaft side of the underground network. The leach fields. The mineshafts. The gold. It made sense now why King kept the boys. And given what Max now understood about Lion’s situation, he couldn’t blame the kid for not showing him the gold.

“The club doesn’t know this is happening,” Max said as he adjusted his hold on Hope. “Only the watchers know. I don’t know who Hatchet’s guys were. I saw JT, VP of the eastern region. He’s the one who shot Hope.” He shouted back to Angel everything that had happened, ending with the discovery of the three gold vaults.
 

They turned into the last segment of tunnels before reaching open air. He glanced down at Hope lying limp in his arms. She looked like a butterfly with a broken wing left to die in the heat on a summer sidewalk. Her ethereal dress was torn and shredded at the ends. Cuts and nicks and bruises marred her pale skin. Dried blood matted the hair at her temple.
 

I don’t want us to be a fairytale, Max
, she’d said before all of this happened.
They never end well in reality.
 

The ghost boys were lined up in two rows, watching him carry Lion’s sister. Time slowed for a minute. The boys wailed hollow cries. The sound they made voiced the pain he felt. He wanted to scream with them.

At the SUV, he discovered that Val had prepped it, flattening the two back rows and setting out a first-aid kit and a thermal blanket. While Blade rushed them into Wolf Creek Bend, Kelan helped Max repack Hope’s wound and wrap her in the blanket to help fight her shock.
 

Max pulled her into his arms, holding her through the long drive to town. He kept up a dire monologue the entire way, threatening, entreating, even begging her to stay with him.

She roused at one point. “I’m tired, Max.”

He choked on a breath that was part laugh and part sigh. “I know, baby. You have to be sore as hell. It’s gonna be okay.”

She nestled deeper into his hold, resting her cheek against his face. He felt her hand reach up to touch his cheek. “Are you crying?”

“No.”

“There are tears on your face.”

He shook his head. “It’s just the grit from the tunnel. It’s nothing.”

They pulled into the clinic in town. Max carried her out of the back of the SUV and laid her gently on the waiting gurney. Doc Beck was there. Medical staff surrounded her, going to work on her even as they ran the gurney across a long path to a landing pad separate from the parking lot. He watched as Hope disappeared into the helicopter and the whole thing lifted into the night.

Max stood there, adrift, drowning in the silence the helicopter left behind.
 

Someone put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get down to Cheyenne to meet her at the hospital,” Blade said.

Max turned woodenly toward the SUV. He didn’t speak. He couldn’t. He had no words. Only pain. He heard Kelan on the phone with Kit. They didn’t ask him any questions. Which was a blessing. Or maybe they did. Who knows? He stared out the window, willing Hope to live.