Game of Fear (31 page)

A quick scan of the monitors made him smile. There it was. A slight discrepancy in the light hitting the sand in some of the pictures. Very slight, but the change could only come from one source. Someone had looped the cameras. Only problem was they’d missed the Minicams on the second security line.

Niko picked up his AK-47 and touched his pocket to check on the symbols for the doors. If the Admiral had brought friends, it was time to invite them in.

He strode down the hall and met two guards. “The helo is here,” he stated firmly, as if he was following orders from the Warden. “I’m going outside for a quick perimeter check. Make sure everything is ready for our guests. Their satisfaction takes precedence over anything else.”

Deb crawled over the sand to study the imposing warehouse. Hope rose within her. The tunnel gave them an option.

Now, if only Gabe’s techy brothers, Zach and Luke, could bring down the sensors, they could storm this castle of horrors and bring Ashley home.

“Heads-up,” Jazz said through the comm device. “I’ve got movement at the main door. A blond guy attached a sign. He’s carrying an AK-47. Damn. He looked straight at us.”

“Our cover blown?” Gabe asked. “I don’t want to take him out if we don’t have to, we’re not ready.”

For several seconds only the whisper of winter wind sounded. “I don’t think so,” Jazz said finally. “After he put up the sign, he pointed to a small circle right above his head. Then he just walked back inside. No alarm, no nothing.”

Luke erupted with a string of curses. “They can still see us. There are three Minicams on a backup system,” Luke muttered. “I’m looping their input.” After a few seconds, he sighed. “We’re invisible again.”

“How bad is the damage?”

No one could answer Gabe’s question.

Deb palmed her weapon and lifted her binoculars. She had no doubt everyone else had done the same. Her entire body tense, she watched, awaiting a mass attack from the building.

It didn’t come.

Instead, the blond man appeared at another entrance. “He’s back,” Deb said. “At the loading platform. He’s attaching something to the small door beside it.”

“What’s this guy up to?” Gabe demanded.

“Steve,” Jazz interrupted. “I don’t have a good angle with my scope. What’s he doing?”

Deb half expected Steve Paretti not to answer.

“Weird,” Paretti muttered.

She arched an eyebrow. He shrugged that maybe-I-was-wrong-but-probably-not look.

“Four stars in a row with an arrow pointing down at the tunnel Seth mentioned,” Paretti said.

Deb gasped. “It’s a message for me. Ashley teases me about being a four-star admiral. Sometimes I’d sign notes to her that way—with four stars in a row.”

“Want to hear more good news?” Luke said. “Zach confirmed sensors are down at all three of those entrances. The security grid is spotty all over.”

Gabe smiled at Deb. “Looks like we have our insider.”

The black corner of the computer room loomed with a terrifying threat. Armed guards stood a few feet away, assault weapons at the ready.

Ashley’s fingers shook and she fumbled on the keys. She couldn’t make any mistakes. Her friends’ lives were in her hands.

Ashley leaned forward and blinked. The screen returned to focus. She typed in another command.

The Warden walked past her, then stopped. “Mr. Gasmerati, Mr. Petrov, this is one of our star programmers. Ashley hacked into the NSA.”

“Impressive, but only if you can do it again. Here and now,” Gasmerati said, tossing down the gauntlet.

Ashley studied the two men. Well dressed, with ten guards behind them. Who were these men?

The Warden gripped Ashley’s shoulder, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “Show them. Bring up a list of CIA operatives located in Kazakhstan.”

Ashley glanced at Floyd. He frowned, but he couldn’t help her. No one could. Not unless Deb was out there.

She had no choice. She had to stay alive.

Praying that she wasn’t putting anyone in danger, her fingers flew across the keyboard. Firewalls fell.

An irritating humming sounded over her right shoulder. “You’re taking too long,” he muttered.

The Warden pinched Ashley’s skin just at the base of her neck. She winced and typed in an incorrect keystroke. The program beeped at her.

“I can’t work if I’m in pain,” she hissed, trying to hide her fear.

The Warden bent down, sweat beading on his upper lip. So the man had at least one emotion, and he feared these two. In fact, the Warden was terrified. Ashley’s belly roiled at the realization.

“You have one minute,” he said. “Or one bullet flies.”

“I just need a few more seconds,” she said softly, pressing the preset codes to release the virus before hacking through to the government site.

A file appeared. A list of names and locations. A slightly altered list. Just slightly, though.

The Warden chuckled. “She just needed a little encouragement.”

“She needs to learn respect,” Petrov said. He scowled at the screen, then pulled out a tablet and tapped a few times. “Several names match what we already know.” Petrov grinned. “Excellent.” He turned and reached out his hand. “Mr. Gasmerati. We have a deal.”

All the guards lifted their weapons.

The Warden looked around nervously.

Gasmerati smiled. “You’re a loose end, Warden. As is everyone here.”

“You can’t do this,” the Warden sputtered.

“Oh, I can.” Gasmerati gave a quick nod. His guard held a weapon to the Warden’s head. “Have your men move everyone to the basement. You remember the basement?”

The Warden gulped and nodded.

“Then bring in your guards five at a time. If you follow instructions, I may change my mind. You never know.”

The Warden lifted the phone and gave the order.

Ashley’s knees shook. Oh God. They were going to die.

Petrov walked over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “I know exactly who the brains are of this outfit, Warden. When we leave, this one comes with me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

G
ABE SNAPPED HIS
binoculars to his
eyes for a final check
on the delivery doors and surrounding areas that he and Deb would infiltrate while the others created distractions and drew fire. With luck, they’d pick off personnel when they exited the building.

Something was going on, though. According to Zach and Luke, heat signatures had been fluctuating wildly on both floors in that corner, and some activity was going on in a stairwell or ramp between the two levels.

“Dawn hits in fifteen minutes and we’ll lose all our cover,” Gabe said, thankful for his SWAT training. “We move in five. Get ready.”

Gabe muted his mic and adjusted Deb’s Kevlar vest one last time. He looked at her. “I’ll protect you in there,” he said softly, and kissed her, allowing his lips to linger just long enough to remind himself he had a lot to live for.

She looked up at him, dazed. “What was that for?”

“For luck,” he whispered.

“Then let’s make love like sex-crazed rabbits later, because I could use some more luck.”

He cracked up laughing and she smiled at him.

“You ready for this, Deb?” he asked gently.

“Yeah, let’s do it. Let’s bring Ashley home.”

Feeling slightly less desperate than before, they made their way down the dune toward the landing doors.

Suddenly, one of the guards burst from the main entrance and raced to the helicopter.

They ducked. “We’ve got movement,” Gabe relayed.

“I see him,” Jazz said quietly. “Target acquired. Do I take the shot?”

“Hold off,” Gabe said. “We can’t reveal our position.”

The guard pulled out a black rectangular box.

Zach swore. “Oh, man, this isn’t good.”

Seth followed with a harsh curse.

“What’s not good?” Deb asked through the comm.

“Iceman bomb,” Zach said. “It’s the nickname for an explosive that burns extra hot and extra long.”

“Only one reason for an iceman. They’re going to destroy this facility.”

“Like Winslow?” Deb said with horror.

“From what you’ve told me, worse,” Seth said. “This bomb won’t leave anything behind. It burns at over five thousand degrees Fahrenheit. Everything in that building will be ash. There won’t be a bone left to find.”

“No one will escape.” Gabe sucked in a harsh breath. “We’ve only got one chance . . . and God only knows how much time.”

The smell of blood and death wrinkled Jeff Gasmerati’s nose. Distasteful.

He straightened his Gucci suit and watched the guards’ bodies slide to the floor, joining the first fifteen.

With each murder, his smile grew larger in direct proportion to the Warden’s gray pallor. He patted the removable drive in his pocket. The key to everything. The uncompiled code for the game. Billions of dollars. Once he moved the game production to Russia, with Petrov’s network, all his problems would be solved.

From Russia, with the program and Ashley Lansing, he could do anything, control anyone.

No more FBI. No more Montgomerys. No more headaches.

Another group of five guards entered the room.

They gasped, seeing the pile of bodies. Before they could raise their weapons, a spray of gunfire mowed them down.

“That’s everyone?” Gasmerati said.

The Warden nodded.

Gasmerati possessed the precise number of guards and flunkies the Warden employed. He walked over to the man who had come to him with a simple idea ten years ago. Despite everyone’s skepticism, even laughter, Jeff understood technology. He’d made the Warden’s idea bigger and better. He’d even killed his own father when the patriarch of the Gasmerati family resisted his ideas.

He tugged a knife from his coat and sliced the man’s cheek open. “Where is your right-hand?”

The Warden clutched his arm.

Jeff chuckled. “I mean Niko.”

The Warden blanched.

With a frown, Jeff glared at two guards. “Find him. Kill him.”

“We will do well together,” Petrov said.

Jeff smiled. It would be interesting to see how long Petrov survived their association. He believed himself to have the upper hand. He knew nothing of Jeff’s true connections.

A knock sounded at the door. Sly strode in. “The iceman has been set. We have twenty minutes.”

Gabe gripped his Glock and inched along the side of the warehouse. Deb had his back. He could trust her. He had no doubts.

They slipped inside the loading platform entrance next to the huge roll-up metal door. No sounds of boots or clanging of alarms greeted them, but a long, empty corridor stretched in front of them and a staircase went down to the left.

Too quiet. He met Deb’s worried gaze. She had a bad feeling.

“It’s the blond man,” Seth’s voice filtered through the mic.

Chaos and gunfire blared through the communication devices.

A loud shout sounded. “They’re killing everyone.”

More gunfire. Gabe’s jaw clenched. Deb clutched his arm. He had to trust his brothers. He did trust his brothers.

Two minutes later it was over.

Seth heaved a breath. “Gabe, listen to this.”

“No time . . . I’m dead.” A voice he didn’t recognize. Had to be the blond man.

He sucked in more air, the sound wet. Gabe could just imagine the blood bubbling from the side of the man’s mouth. “Bomb inside. Kids were taken to—” His words went garbled. “Save them . . .”

“He’s gone, and we’re out of time,” Seth said. “Everyone, go.”

Gabe motioned to Deb. They moved forward again.

Someone coughed nearby.

“Shhh . . .”

Whispers filtered through a set of double doors. It sounded like scared kids.

Ashley?

Gabe and Deb eased down the hallway then peeked through the small inserted window. It was some sort of cafeteria and two kids stood huddled inside.

He shoved into the room. Mylo and a sandy-haired kid spun around in a panic, fumbling with their M-16s. A horrifying stench came from the blood-spattered duo.

“Whoa, hold it!” Gabe lifted his hands. “Mylo, it’s Gabe and Deb.”

Angry fire blazed in Mylo’s eyes, then cleared. “Oh, man, thank God it’s you.” His shoulders sagged. “I thought we were dead.”

Deb raced to them. “What happened? Where’s Ashley?”

“Some big shots that flew in today have her. I only caught one name. Petrov,” the sandy-haired boy said, his face streaked with blood.

“Gasmerati’s partner.” Gabe frowned. They had a name.

“How did you get away?” Deb asked.

“When they announced we were all going to the basement, we were in the back corner.” Mylo shuddered. “This is Floyd. He knows everything about this place.”

Gabe ticked through his father’s list. The name sounded familiar.

“You said the kids are in the basement?”

“It’s where they execute those who are expendable,” Floyd said. “No one likes to go there. We slipped under the grates and went to the armory on the other side of the complex like Niko told us to do. Can’t believe that blond bastard helped us.”

And paid for it. “What about Ashley?” Gabe asked.

“We saw her in the C corridor with those big shots and about six guards. She covered for us,” Mylo said, his face painted with an awed look. “She’s crazy brave. Threw a fit, screaming that she didn’t want to go with them. Biting and scratching. Petrov backhanded her, and in the chaos, we managed to escape. I don’t know where she is now, but the kids downstairs are probably being gassed right now.”

“This can’t be happening.” Deb closed her eyes. A tear slid down her cheek. She clicked her earpiece. “Ashley last seen in C corridor near the armory with Gasmerati. Six guards. Please, find her. Gabe and I are heading to the basement for a rescue. Over.”

She turned to the group. “We have to save those kids.”

Gabe thought he’d never seen a woman more heartbreakingly beautiful or brave. “They’ll find her,” Gabe said. “Okay, where’s the basement, Floyd?”

“Follow me,” he said. “Keep your weapons ready. They shoot to kill here.”

The group hurried as fast as they dared. They turned right near the door where Deb and Gabe had entered and started down the stairs.

A flurry of shots echoed from several places inside the building and more shots answered.

“Move it,” Gabe urged.

“The basement is here,” Floyd whispered, finally slowing as they neared the bottom. “There’s a big room that I’ve never seen anyone go into before.”

“Any idea what it’s used for?”

“Yeah,” Floyd said softly. “Mass murder.”

Gabe raced down the stairs, followed by the teenagers. Deb brought up the rear. She must be champing to search this place for Ashley, but she’d put her faith in him and his brothers. He just prayed they didn’t let her down.

She could have his back anytime, and if they lived through this, he intended to tell her that. Among other things.

A series of rapid-fire gunshots sounded again in the distance. Gabe knew his brothers could take care of themselves. But still . . . Damn, he couldn’t help them now.

One last step and he entered the basement corridor. The others crowded around him.

Two compound guards lay dead on the floor.

A weak cry sounded from behind the door. Gabe grabbed one of Zach’s toys, jammed it against the panel, and turned it on. The machine whirred and lights flashed and a few moments later, the tumblers clicked. He wrenched open the door.

Acrid gas spewed from the room, its sour odor nauseating. More than twenty kids lay on the floor gasping, vomiting, and writhing in desperation.

One boy rolled over and looked at Gabe. “Get out. Heard talking. Bomb,” he said. “Today.”

Gabe took a second to tap his communication device. “Heads-up. Confirmation of explosive device to detonate today. Get everybody out.”

“Ashley! Are you in here?” Deb called out, even as she dragged the retching kids from the room.

Some could still walk a little and they helped others. Gabe, Deb, Mylo, and Floyd half dragged, half carried the weakest ones into the hallway.

One figure remained huddled in the corner.

Floyd hurried into the room to help. The man turned over, vomiting all over himself.

The boy stilled. “You killed my brother.”

Green with sickness, the Warden looked up at Floyd.

He raised the gun.

“Floyd—” Gabe rushed toward him.

“This is for Fletcher.”

Gabe was too late. Floyd peppered the Warden with bullets.

He emptied the magazine, then tossed the weapon next to the body.

Tears streaming down his face, Floyd doubled over. He threw up and stumbled out of the room. Gabe placed a hand on his shoulder and met Floyd’s tortured gaze.

The boy swiped at his wet cheeks. “Why don’t I feel better?” he asked in a small voice.

“Come on,” Gabe said, knowing nothing would help but time.

In the hallway, the gas had dissipated; the teenagers started to revive.

“Let’s clear this room fast and go after Ashley,” he said to Deb.

Seth’s voice interrupted on the comm line. “Just found the bomb. We have three minutes to get out.”

“We have twenty kids. We can’t make it,” Deb shouted.

Zach’s voice came through. “The tunnel is almost directly above you. One flight.”