“One hand,” he snaps. “And you have three hours.” Before he straightens, he twists my hair so hard, I cry out. “Rex will make sure you don’t do anything you’re not supposed to. All the bank logins are on that paper. Go anywhere else online, and Bettina loses an eye.”
Rex pulls out a switchblade. It snaps open inches from Bettina’s face. Her hoarse whimper brings a fresh round of tears. She squeezes her eyes shut when he traces a line from her lips all the way up her cheek, but thank God there’s no blood.
“Be good, my sweet Hope.” Simon heads for the stairs, and Rex slips the blade under the zip tie around my right wrist. He’s not careful. When the plastic snaps in two, blood slicks my skin.
Asshole.
I need a distraction. If I can get Rex to leave the room, maybe we’ll all make it out of this alive. If not…maybe I can at least find a way to get a message to the team.
Wyatt
“Got movement,” Ry says, his deep voice somehow even rougher over comms. “Three men in a black sedan. The two assholes from the park and another.”
“Base to Alpha Team.” Wren. It’s five in the morning here. An hour earlier in Seattle. I cringe, still hiding behind a tall hedge. Ry’s gonna be pissed.
“Base, you should be offline.”
Yep. Called it.
“Third man is one Chad Ravens. Two arrests for harassment, both charges were dismissed, and a third for stalking. That one is still open.”
“Where the fuck did he come from? He wasn’t on the list. And why are you awake?”
“Because someone won’t stop kicking my bladder,” Wren retorts. “And because you’re on mission. If you think I’m ever going to sleep when you’re out there—”
“Cut the chatter. Both of you. Romeo, get in position. They’ll be at the motel in five minutes,” West mutters. “Charlie, what’s your status?”
Charlie? Shit. Rip’s dog. Of course he’d pick that for his code name.
“Close. I think. When we’re back, we’re going through this code line by line. We can use this tech. Base, I need your help with these last couple of functions.”
“You got it, Charlie,” Wren says. “Send it ov—fudgenuggets!”
I tense, sitting up straighter and flexing my screaming muscles. Wren doesn’t swear. Fudgenuggets is serious.
“Base?” Ry asks. “Report!”
“I have a way in. Yankee? Hotel’s alive. She’s transferring money from the companies the FBI red flagged to half a dozen other accounts. From inside the target zone.” Wren’s so excited, her words are falling all over one another. “Each transfer has a three- or four-letter code attached to it, and I think…hang on.”
Thirty seconds. Sixty. Ninety. Fuck. How long until I lose my shit and demand an update?
Do not yell at the pregnant woman working her ass off for you and Hope. You’re not that much of an asshole. Remember?
“Base to Alpha Team. She is definitely sending us a message. So far, it reads: ‘Basement. RD. Internet open.’ Charlie, keep working. I’m going to send a spike to Arrens’ computer and see if I can take down the whole system. Without knowing anything about his firewalls, this could be quick, or it could take an hour. But at least we have a backup plan. Base out.”
“Dumbasses neutralized,” Ry says quietly. “No resistance. Sent confirmation of Yankee’s death to the Target via text. You’d better be close, Charlie. He’ll expect these three back in fifteen minutes.”
“I am.” There’s a quiet confidence in Ripper’s tone that wasn’t there before.
We’re getting Hope back. And Simon Arrens is going to die for what he’s done. To her and everyone else he’s ever hurt.
23
Hope
Two hours and twenty-seven minutes. Where are they?
Rex hasn’t left me alone or turned his back the whole time, and I’m terrified he’s going to notice the codes I’m attaching to each transfer. Or that I’ll forget what letters to use next.
