“Are they getting the stuff I want or not?”
Blayze walked around to the side of the building and scrutinized each outer wall as he answered. “I’m working on it, Frank. I’m sure you understand there’s a process involved. No ATM is equipped to give out anywhere near that amount, and people rarely carry that kind of cash.”
“Well then, what the crud am I supposed to do?” Frank asked.
“It’d be easier if we could make a deposit,” Blayze said. “You know, handle everything online.”
“What about the helicopter?” Frank urged.
“Sure,” Blayze said, “That’s the one I’m working on.” He typed out an emergency text to Zane, the numbers 911 indicating the urgency of the matter.
Blayze:911 Victor’s our guy, but he’s not alone. Any guess at who could be in there with him?
It was hard to search through his own mental register, as sick as he felt. He had to get Sophia out of this.
The trouble was, Blayze wouldn’t see a peaceful end unless he could appeal to the one leading the show, and after what he’d heard, Blayze was certain that wasn’t Victor.
So, who else wanted Nicolas Vasco to suffer? Whoever it was, they were more determined than Frank—he could feel it in the kid’s demands. His desperation to undo what he’d started.
Blayze stared up at the sky, stretching a plea to the heavens. “Hey, Frank?” It came out scratchy, his throat dry and sore. “How you doing in there, man?”
“I don’t know…” Frank’s voice was heavy with dread.
Blayze’s pulse hammered. “Don’t know what?”
“If I can go through with this.”
“I can give you a way out any time, Frank. We can do it right now. How about we both walk to the garage door. You don’t have explosives set up there, do you?”
“Yes, I do. They’re everywhere! And that’s right where Ms. Vasco is.” Whispers sounded then, and the muffled noise of someone palming the speaker.
Blayze closed his eyes to tune in. Overhearing one very important question: “Why didn’t we blindfold her?”
Come on, Blayze—think.Who could get a young, single college student—whole world ahead of him—to risk it all?
And that’s when it hit him—Love.
Nothing made a man do crazy things like love did. Blayze was learning that firsthand.
He thought further on it. If there was a woman behind all of this, she either had to be in it for the money, or in it for revenge. Someone with an equal thirst for reprisal.
A flashback of his notes shot to the forefront—a woman who wrote the DA after her husband was convicted.
He tapped another text to Zane.
Check for a connection between Victor and the plastic surgeon’s wife.
His phone buzzed back with a reply.
Zane:We’re already on it. Think we might have found a connection. Give me a minute to confirm…
What did Blayze know about that woman? She divorced her husband shortly after he was convicted. She was vain. Had several surgeries during the man’s years in practice. She was older than Frank, for sure, but did the age difference make it more or less likely?
More whispers came from the line, the words sounding frantic now. Perhaps they didn’t have time to find out who it was. The time to act might be now.
Blayze wiped a layer of sweat from his brow. Never had he wanted to burst right through a building like he did in that moment. He’d played a video game once as a kid where he could blast through bricks, leaving a hole the size of his body in his wake.
One look at the metal siding, along with a glance to the maintenance shed beside him, brought that idea to life; getting in there wouldn’t be so hard after all. Especially if he could get Roman and his guy involved to create a distraction before going for it.
