Sweet Dreams Boxed Set (199 page)

Waiting a beat, Kade had his weapon in front of him as he stepped into the space, feeling the same rush of terror and adrenaline he always felt when his next second could be his last.

Luckily, today wasn’t the day he’d been meeting his maker—or most likely the one a lot lower in altitude—at least, not yet.

The room was full of discarded equipment and boxes stacked shoulder-high. Kade didn’t spare much attention to examine the equipment, his eyes too preoccupied looking for a threat. He stepped forward carefully, catching the light on the wall that indicated there was an alarm system just as it started to beep.

“Fucking shit,” he muttered, rushing toward the panel on the wall. There was enough ambient light for him to see the seconds counting down until the full-scale alarm went off.

“Can you disarm it?” Blane asked, standing with his back to Kade.

“Gimme a minute.” Kade yanked the cover plate off the wall, exposing wires and the keypad buttons. Searching, his eyes finally lit on what he needed. Shoving his Sig into its holster, he pulled out his spare knife and flicked it open in one practiced motion.

It took approximately four seconds to strip the wires he needed and touch them together. A spark flew and he smelled a whiff of ozone, then the beeping stopped, the lights on the panel all going dark.

“Nice work,” Blane said.

Kade didn’t reply to the praise, but it was nice to hear.

They continued through the room, the spaces getting tighter and tighter between boxes and dusty machines that Kade had no name for. A dark, yawning emptiness ahead of them marked the path into the rest of the building.

A bad feeling ate at Kade’s gut. Never one to ignore that feeling, he reached into the backpack and pulled out two sets of night vision goggles. He handed one to Blane.

“We might need these,” he said.

Blane didn’t question it, but merely slipped them on, pushing the goggles on top of his head.

A television was mounted in the corner up by the ceiling and as they walked by, its screen flickered and came to life. The image that appeared made both men halt in their tracks.

Chapter Eight

The image on the screen was split into two—one side showing Brandy, the other, Liz.

“Well, shit,” Kade muttered. Blane didn’t say anything, but Kade could feel him stiffen.

Brandy was strung up somewhere by her arms and legs, ropes tight around her wrists and ankles. The ropes were attached to whatever was behind her, holding her body in place.

Her head lolled forward on her neck and for a moment, Kade thought she was dead, then she shifted slightly and he could see her face.

It looked like Péng hadn’t taken much care with her, as there were bruises on her face and she looked as though she’d been crying.

Liz looked the same, only she was tied sitting down somewhere cramped and dark, her arms behind her back. Every few moments she was illuminated by a swirl of color, as though lights were spinning around her.

Kade looked closer. “Yeah, you’re right. But I can’t tell where Liz is.”

“Péng obviously knows we’re here. This must be some kind of fucking game to him.” Blane’s voice was tight with anger.

“Then we’ll play the game, just change the rules,” Kade replied. “Whether he knows we’re here or not, we don’t have a choice. Let’s go.” Normally, he wouldn’t give a shit about some random woman being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he’d been the one to cherry pick Liz and Brandy from the line last night. If he hadn’t, no doubt they’d be safely at home, tucked into their beds, and nursing hangovers.

Sometimes what little conscience he had picked the shittiest time to show up.

The doorway past the television stretched into a long hallway, utterly dark. Kade flipped down his goggles and heard the sound of Blane doing the same.

Their steps made no sound as they moved, as quickly and as carefully as they could. Kade could taste the bite of adrenaline and feel the rush that always came from yet another situation he had to outwit. He once thought he’d never tire of what had once felt like an addiction. But he’d also never thought he’d have to do the kinds of things he’d done. Maybe one of these times he’d say screw it and let the chips fall where they may. But Blane was with him, so losing this game wasn’t an option. Not tonight.

The hallway ended abruptly, opening into a cavernous space. Through his goggles, Kade could see a huge rock wall looming above them. Man-created outcroppings of toeholds jutted out at regular intervals, an invitation to climb up. And at the highest point, stretched across the face of the wall, was Brandy.

“What’s he trying to do? Fucking crucify her?” Kade’s furious questions were a whisper in the dark.

“She can’t be breathing well,” Blane replied. “He’s slowly suffocating her. We have to get her down. Now.”

“Can you climb?” Kade asked, because he sure as hell couldn’t. Heights weren’t his thing. Why climb a wall if you could just go around it?

“Yeah,” Blane answered, already shrugging off his backpack. “But there isn’t time to use a harness.”

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Blane’s face was grim as he continued taking off equipment, making himself as light as possible. “She’s going to die—horribly, I might add—because of us. I’m not going to let that happen. Not if I can help it.”

“Dude, you’re not Superman. You fall from there, it’s not like I can catch you.” Kade watched Blane and tried not to listen to the sick feeling in his gut.

“Then I’d better not fall.” He started for the wall.

Kade’s hand shot out to grip Blane’s arm as he went by. “You fall, I will kick your ass,” he said.

Blane’s lips twisted in a grin. “Good to know. Now go around back and find the other way to the top. They had to get her up there somehow. And watch out because it’ll probably be guarded.”

“And you don’t think they’ll just shoot you off the face of that wall?”

Blane shook his head. “Nope. They won’t expect it. And with any luck, they won’t even see me in the dark.”

And with that, he was gone. Kade watched him for a moment as he hit the bottom of the wall and started up. He hadn’t known Blane could climb, but then again, there were a lot of things about his brother that he didn’t know.

He moved quickly, scaling the wall with far more finesse than Kade could believe. Under pressure, on a deadline, and in the dark—formidable obstacles even without the prospect of the climb.

Maybe Blane
was
Superman. Which would make Kade…the Robin, Boy Wonder?

No fucking way.

A back way, Blane had said. Another way to the top that would take more time to find than they had, or rather, than Brandy had.

Skirting the outside edges of the room, Kade kept one eye in front of him and another on Blane’s progress up the wall. It scared him somewhere deep that he didn’t want to think about what might happen if Blane lost his grip. There’d be nothing to break his fall.

Unless Kade got to the top and dropped a rope.

He moved faster.

A small room that looked like an office with glass windows was off to his left. Trying the knob, it turned beneath his hand. The door squeaked a little as he pushed it open, and he flinched. Nothing like announcing his presence. He might as well blow a whistle and yell out, “Here I am!”

The office was full of climbing equipment. Kade grabbed a thick rope that had been wrapped in a large coil and slung it over his shoulder. The rest of it was unfamiliar to him and he wasted a precious few seconds staring at it before deciding,
Fuck it
. At least he knew how to work a rope.

Two doors were in the very back, one leading to a closet, the other a dark, narrow staircase.

Hello, deathtrap
.

Knowing he might be stepping directly in the line of fire made him pause, but not for long. Blane was waiting. He’d be tiring quickly and could lose his grip at any moment.

Kade stepped through the door.

***

Blane’s muscles were screaming at him.

It’s been too long since you did this kind of shit. Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re not twenty-five anymore! You’re a lawyer now, for chrissake.

He ignored the voices inside his head, pushing onward toward the top. Each fingerhold and toehold was a few more inches to where Brandy was.

The goggles were a hindrance, but he had no choice. The darkness was both his friend and enemy at the moment. If they saw him, he’d be a sitting duck. And getting shot in the back wasn’t the way he wanted to go.

And truth be told, he’d rather not
go
at all. At least, not right now. It would be pretty shitty to have survived three tours in Afghanistan only to bite it in Las Vegas, of all places.

He kept going. One hand, a foot, the other hand, the other foot. Over and over. He didn’t look down.

Brandy was close now and Blane wondered how in the hell he was going to get her off this fucking wall without both of them falling. If she could hold on to him, that would help, but he had no idea what her strength level was or if she was even conscious.

Finally, he was close enough to speak to her.

“Brandy,” he said, keeping his voice as quiet as possible but hopefully loud enough that she could hear. She didn’t respond. He tried again, louder. “Brandy.”

This time she moved, her head turning slowly toward him and her eyes blinking open. Blane saw the instant fear took over and she opened her mouth to scream.

His palm covered her mouth just in time, muffling her. His other hand cramped painfully on the grip he had holding his weight.

“It’s Blane,” he said. “Don’t be scared. I’m here to help you. Don’t scream.”

Her eyes cleared as his words penetrated. After a moment, she gave a tiny nod.

Blane could feel her breath against his fingers. He’d been right. It was shallow and weak. She couldn’t take a deep breath the way they had her tied. He was amazed she was even conscious. And he was so going to kill the fuckers who’d done this.

“I’m going to untie your wrists first,” he explained. “Are you strong enough to keep your balance if I put your hands in position?”

“I-I think so,” she said, her voice a whisper of sound. “I’ll try.”

Blane nodded grimly. “Okay. Just tell me if you can’t.”

He scanned the wall, finding a hand hold near her right hand. He needed the switchblade in his pocket to cut the rope that held her and he braced himself, but she stayed put. The prospect of rescue had seemed to make her more alert. He hoped the adrenaline would give her the strength she needed.

“Okay, you’re doing good,” he said. “Now for the other hand.” He reached across her body for the rope just as he heard the report of a rifle and saw a chunk of rock gauged a foot from them.

Fuck. So much for doing this slow and careful.

He cut the rope for her wrist and braced his arm across her shoulders, holding her to the wall. Her feet were propped on two outcroppings, giving her some stability, but he didn’t want her toppling forward.

The sound came again, this time the bullet hitting closer. Blane instinctively moved, his body shielding Brandy’s.

They were playing with him, obviously, no doubt watching them fall was more entertaining than shooting such easy targets. But Blane doubted they’d let them escape up the wall. They’d keep shooting, maybe injuring them, just to make it interesting. The way a cruel kid tore the wings off flies or burned worms with a magnifying glass. His gut clenched as he tried to think what to do.

A second rifle sounded, different than the first, and was coming from above him. Craning his neck, Blane saw someone above them providing cover fire. He didn’t have time to look closer though, as a rope was suddenly tossed down.

Blane didn’t need to be told twice.

“Put your arms around my waist,” he said to Brandy, who did as she was told. “Hold on tight.”

Grasping the rope with one hand, he reached down with the other, slicing through the ropes holding her ankles. As he’d thought, she immediately lost her footing and fell forward. He had to drop the knife to catch her even as her arms tightened around him.

He couldn’t climb, not holding her. And there was no way Kade was going to be able to pull both of them up. But even as he thought it, he was moving. Steady gunfire sounded in his ears, but it came from above, thank God.

Blane held tight to Brandy, who definitely would have fallen if he hadn’t. There was no way she had the strength to have held him tight enough not to fall otherwise.

In a shorter time than he would have thought possible, they were up and over the ledge.

“Stay down,” Blane said when he saw Brandy instinctively scramble to get to her feet. If she got shot after all that, he was going to be pissed. The muscles in his arms and chest ached from the exertion and the rope had torn the shit out of his palm.

Worst trip to Las Vegas ever.

“Let’s move!”

The voice was that of Terrance, the guy Kade had paid to come. He and Tom had helped pull them up while Bill was still firing the AR-15.

Covering Brandy the best he could, they stayed down in a crouching run as they followed him back, away from the ledge. Blane knew Brandy couldn’t see where she was going, not in the dark, so he kept a tight hold on her. Not that he would’ve needed to. She had him in a death grip, her fingers clutching his arm so tight the nails dug through his shirt.

Using women as pawns in a man’s game pissed Blane off. And where the fuck was Kade?

Anger masked the cold knot of worry in his gut. Kade was the best thing that had ever happened to Blane—the half-brother he hadn’t even known existed for nearly a decade. And even if this whole mess was partly Kade’s fault, it didn’t matter. Just so long as he was safe and unhurt. If Péng had somehow injured his brother…well Blane had learned some tricks in Afghanistan. Things he’d seen done by an enemy he considered little more than savages. It had made his stomach churn at the time, but he’d have no problem channeling his inner savage to avenge his brother.

Terrance led them to an elevator even as the rifle fire resumed. Blane could hear the bullets tearing into the wall behind them.