Chapter Thirty-Two
Ishmael
The rain coming down as little more than a cloying mist that saturated everything and reduced visibility did nothing to help his mood. Ishmael had put up with the questioning and the wait time for his non-critical injury with what he thought was an amazing amount of patience. By the time they would let him go, Ishmael got the news that Bob had finally come out of surgery and was in the recovery room. He was expected to make it but would be in hospital for at least a fortnight.
He gritted his teeth. Someone had messed with his family and now he was one good man down. On top of that, someone had dared to take that which belonged to him. He slammed his palm against the glass, feeling it reverberate beneath his flesh.
“We’ll get him back, Ishmael.” Ezra’s voice was soft, speaking as a friend and not just a trusted employee. “Jamal won’t stop until he finds Marcus’s trail. This was a bold move, but sloppy.”
Ishmael turned around. “Hastily planned,” he agreed. “A late addition to whatever plot they already had in motion.”
“Yes,” Ezra replied, knowing that the gun left behind at the club and most likely the events at the warehouse were most likely related in some way. He stopped speaking, his head canting to one side and a faraway look in his eyes letting Ishmael know that he was paying close attention to something being relayed by one of his team. Ezra’s lips twisted into a snarl, his eyes sparking with fury. “Son of a bitch!” he roared. He turned his gaze back to his boss. “Jamal says he’s found a record showing Bob received a call this morning before you set off. It was from the landline in Ollie’s office. Then just before the shooting, Bob called Crichton’s mobile.”
A look of deep betrayal crossed Ishmael’s face. Era held up a hand. “No, it wasn’t Ollie. It was Crichton, and he didn’t even try to cover his tracks. He’s on camera, and the scanner records bear them out as do the two men on duty at the door.”
Ishmael growled. He’d trusted Crichton. Offered part of his pet’s training to him, even. He’d had his own cock down the man’s throat numerous times, also. He widened his eyes. Was Kris snatched out of jealousy?
“Do we know where he is?” Ishmael asked.
“Men are on their way to his flat now and Jamal has set up a search for his car as well as a facial rec search for him at tube and train stations.”
“I want him.” It wasn’t a request.
“You’ll have him. I’ll make damned sure of it.”
Ishmael gave a nod and turned to go make himself a drink. “Whiskey?”
“No, thank you, sir. I’m not coming off duty until we have our boy back.”
Ishmael looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Our boy?”
“We’ve all gotten rather fond of him, sir. He’s quickly becoming like a little brother. Did you know Bob woke up for a bit and asked about him?”
“I didn’t.” He poured his drink into his glass, carefully re-stoppering the decanter before putting it away. “What happened wasn’t his fault. Crichton obviously tricked him.”
“He probably got Bob to call to let him know when you were leaving, on some pretext or other relating to security here. He could have pinged his mobile or had eyes on them, we just don’t know. Though Bob’s phone doesn’t show any such call.”
Ishmael took a sip, mulling it over. He swallowed. “They had to have been there, in the vicinity. They were in and out far too quickly to have made it through traffic to get to us so quickly.”
Ezra cursed. “Of course they did. So, we need to see if you had a tail. I’ll tell Jamal.”
Ishmael watched as his chief security officer relayed this new insight. Ezra gave a wry grin. “Should have known. He already thought of that and has Siobhan on it.”
Ishmael finished his drink and placed the glass down on the drinks cabinet. He felt restless, knowing all he could do was wait. Wait, while someone else hurt his beloved. He jerked mentally. Where had that come from? He closed his eyes briefly. It was true, he’d already formed a deep attachment to the boy. He opened them again.
“I have a phone call to make,” he said, dismissing Ezra.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll be down in ops.”
Ishmael watched him go as he sat himself back behind his desk. He picked up the phone and using the secure line, placed his call.
“I was expecting you,” said the other party. “I’m surprised it took you this long to contact me.”
“You know then,” Ishmael said flatly, annoyed that the other man had not reached out first.
“About the little escapade this morning? Indeed, I do. I’ve already begun looking into it.”
“The men involved work for a mutual acquaintance, one you accompanied to my premises recently.”
