There was absolutely no situational awareness in the kid as the gate creaked again behind him. He just used a key to unlock the door and headed inside.
“Think he’s that blind or are we walking into a trap?” Ranger asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Could be either,” Ghost answered honestly. Over the past three days of tracking down Caspian, Ghost had told Ranger all about the Navy Intelligence Cryptologic Technician he’d met when he returned to Norfolk, Virginia, as a civilian contractor about a year ago. Ghost had been both impressed by the kid’s skillset and concerned at everything that was put on his shoulders at such a young age. When he heard through the grapevine that Caspian had been court martialed, Ghost had pitied the kid.
It also begged the question about why Caspian had walked away from the United States Navy without so much as a slap on the wrist. Even the OTH discharge was minimal, and depending on the order, could still come with benefits. If the scuttlebutt Ghost had heard was true, and the kid had disobeyed a direct order, it could have been a lot worse, including jail time and a dishonorable discharge.
The only thing he did not tell Ranger was about the OTH classification of Caspian’s discharge. That was Steel’s call if the club should know that detail.
Ghost opened the door behind Caspian. There was a dark, square landing in front of them, followed by more descending stairs to his left. He didn’t see Caspian below. Stepping inside, the basement felt cold, with a light draft coming up the stairs.
Ranger stepped into the room behind Ghost—just as Ghost walked face first into a solid wall where he thought the first step would be.
“Freeze, dirtbags!” came from behind him.
Rubbing his nose,Ghost turned. He did not understand how someone was behind him. Or what the hell he’d just walked into in front of him. What happened to the stairs? It had just been a landing with the door, two walls, and the staircase. What had he missed?
The door slammed closed behind Ranger of its own accord, making both Ghost and Ranger reach for their holstered weapons. They were immediately plunged into darkness. What the hell was going on, and why did it feel like the walls were moving in on them?
Ranger’s arm brushed Ghost’s just as the room was lit up by a single lightbulb. A figure stood before them. Still dressed in his hoodie, which Ghost could now see saidBRING OUT YOUR DEADin all capital letters, he now wore a white mask over his face. It was either a cat or a fox, with a red sun above the right eye and both eyes looked like red bullseyes. A single black line created the mouth, frowning at them. And in his hands?—
Ranger stood up straighter. “Is that aNerfgun?”
It certainly looked like it to Ghost. One of the giant automatic rifles he’d seen commercials for, and it was aimed right at Ghost’s chest.
“Are you here to take me back?”
The voice was muffled, but he recognized it. And clearly the kid remembered him if that was the question he asked. “No. I heard what happened and wanted to check on you. I have an offer for you, if you’re interested.”
He cocked the pump grip, loading a round. “I want nothing to do with Uncle Sam, not even as a civilian.”
Ghost nodded evenly. “That’s fine. That’s not why I’m here.” He pointed to his cut. “See this?” Slowly, Ghost turned so the kid could see the back rockers too. “Remember how I told you I was in a motorcycle club now that I’m a civilian. That’s where I want to bring you.” He faced forward again. “I want to offer you a home, Caspian. Brothers, family.”
“Haven’t had good luck with either of those categories,” came the muffled response. “What makes yours any better?”
Ranger was the one who responded. “Did either of them come after you to see how you were doing? Ghost has been tracking you for a while, ever since he heard about what happened to you.”
Caspian slowly lowered the gun. “My family is who did this to me.” It wasn’t just cynicism lacing the kid’s voice, but hurt and sorrow.
Ghost took a step forward. “I’m here to offer you a new family, kid. One that will never betray you and always have your back. A place you can call home and you never have to worry about receiving unlawful orders again.”
The muzzle of the gun lowered even more. Ghost couldn’t see the kid’s face behind that fox mask, but he hoped he was seriously contemplating the offer. “Can I bring my toys?”
Ranger blinked, completely taken by surprise by that question. Ghost, however, wasn’t. He recalled the action figures and collectible items all around Caspian’s cubicle in Norfolk.
“Sure, but you’re going to have to ditch the mask. They’re going to want to see your face.”
As Caspian rested the gun against the wall to remove the mask, Ranger added, “There’s not that many club kids around, but I’m sure one or two would want to play with you.”
The look Caspian gave Ranger was close to horrified. “I’d never let any kids play with my toys. They’re far too dangerous.” He clapped his hands twice. Lights flicked on all around them,startling Ranger and Ghost as the size of the room they were in came to them.
Plastic walls surrounding them raised up into the ceiling. Somehow, they were further from the entry door by several more feet than Ghost had thought they were. The lights illuminated a large space filled with a messy bed, multiple televisions, a computer setup with seven monitors, and several arcade games, likeDance, Dance, RevolutionandMs. Pacman. One wall was entirelyNerfguns on a pegboard. And was that an Ironman suit in the corner? The chest looked open, like it had been worn recently.
How the hell had all this been in the room and neither Ghost nor Ranger had noticed or seen anything?
Picking up the weapon, he pushed his machine gun against Ranger’s chest, who needed to lift his arms to hold it or it would have dropped to the floor.
“Optical illusions,” Caspian threw over his shoulder as he walked away from them. He was thinner than Ghost remembered, making him think that the kid either wasn’t eating or wasn’t eating right. Based on the amount of money the items in this room cost, Ghost doubted it was a lack of funds that kept him from eating. “I use dark lights, combined with spatial sensory distractions to keep your focus on what I want you to see.”
