Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Max had his phone in his hand dialing Atticus's number as soon as the doors closed, simultaneously taking the frequency device from his pocket and turning it on so no one could hear his conversation.

"What's going on?" Atticus asked. "The staff here watches that private door like hawks. I couldn't get anywhere near it without drawing attention to myself."

"Vassin's man took Jade as collateral and left the first half of the payment with me." Max paused as Atticus swore viciously. "I can meet with Vassin at his home tonight and give him the convoy locations, and then he says I can take Jade and leave."

"They'll try to kill you."

"That's what I'm planning on."

"Give Cal a few minutes to mess with the cameras and then head down to our suite. I've already got blueprints for Vassin's home here. We'll get her back."

"Damned right we will," he said and hung up. His fist punched against the wall and he shook out the sting as he paced back and forth, waiting for the signal that Cal had overtaken the cameras. He changed into sand-colored cargos and a white shirt, and he laced up his combat boots, much preferring their familiar weight over the expensive loafers he'd been wearing.

He didn't have to wait long for Cal's signal, and he took the fire exit down to the floor below his. Atticus was there waiting with the door cracked when he approached their room.

"Vassin lives in northern Las Vegas," Atticus said, closing the door behind him and heading to the table where the maps were spread out. "His home is gated and sits on more than twenty acres of land. We've got an hour until sunset. The darkness will be in our favor. I've got some new toys I've been wanting to try out."

"If he hurts one hair on her head, he's a dead man," Max said, a vicious fury riding just beneath his skin. "I mean it, Atticus. I don't care what kind of red tape or government promises have been made to hand over Martin Vassin. He will die if she's hurt."

"I'll help you bury the body if it comes to that," Atticus said, nodding. "We're in this together. And you know as well as I do that accidents can happen on a mission. We'll worry about covering our asses when we need to. And if we can't cover our asses then Gabe Brennan can. He owes me a favor."

Max nodded in gratitude and then leaned over the table, staring at the blueprints of Vassin's home. He was so caught up in his plans he didn't realize the phone ringing was his until the sixth ring.

"Devlin," he said, answering the phone.

"So now we are on an even playing field, my friend. This is much better."

Max signaled to Atticus that it was Vassin on the phone, and Cal and Evangeline got to work trying to track his signal.

"Put Jade on the phone," he demanded.

"She's tied up at the moment and unable to talk. I'm sure you can speak to her once you arrive."

"How do I know she's alive?"

"I guess you'll just have to take my word for it," Vassin said, chuckling. "She is quite a handful. Such spirit she has. And her eyes are like green fire shooting sparks at me. It's very—arousing."

Max's hand gripped the phone tighter and he had to remind himself not to let anger take control. He needed to keep a clear head for Jade's sake.

"I'm assuming there was a point to this call," Max said.

"Ah, yes. Our business transaction. I've decided to play your little time game and see if you're as good at playing by my rules as I was at playing by your rules."

"I hate to break it to you, Martin, but you were pretty bad at following the rules."

He laughed again and Atticus caught Max's eye, telling him to keep him talking while Cal tracked his cell phone. Once he was locked on to it, it would be like a homing beacon once they started looking for him. And once they found Vassin, they'd more than likely find Jade with him.

"Yes, I called your bluff quite handily," Vassin said. "Let me tell you my rules. It is a two-hour drive from the hotel to my home if there's no traffic. You have an hour and fifty-five minutes to get here."

Max paced the floor and kicked at the edge of the sofa. "Or what?" he asked.

"You remember our mutual friend Mr. Smith?" Vassin asked. "He is very good with a knife. You could even say he loves his work. For every minute you're late in getting here, Mr. Smith will start removing body parts. The timer starts now, Mr. Devlin."

The line went dead and he carefully put the phone in his pocket instead of throwing it across the room like he wanted.

"We've got his phone," Atticus said. "He's still en route himself." Atticus handed him an earpiece for communication, and he flicked the tiny sensor to turn it on and then slipped it into his ear. It fit neatly into the canal so it wasn't visible.

Atticus tossed him the keys to his car. "Take mine. It's faster."

Max nodded his thanks. He didn't have even seconds to spare.

"We'll be right behind you," Atticus called out as the rest of the team started gathering their gear. "Try not to piss anyone off too bad before we get there."

Max let the door slam behind him and took the elevator all the way to the garage floor level where Atticus's sleek blue McLaren was parked. The tires squealed as he sped out of the parking garage onto the main street in front of the hotel.

Dusk had already started to fall, and it made the lights of the Strip seem sadder somehow, the people walking the streets with greed in their eyes more pathetic.

He tried not to look at the clock as he sped through downtown and toward the long stretch of highway that would take him to Vassin's home. Night closed in and his foot pressed farther to the floor, taking the car as fast as it could go. He wasn't worried about cops. There was no cop car that could catch him in the McLaren.

The occasional conversation rattled in his earpiece, but he blocked it out once he heard that the team was en route. Atticus always had a little bit of magic up his sleeve. He was always prepared for every eventuality.

He saw the barricade just after he took the last exit off the highway. A car blocked the driveway, and two men leaned against it, waiting for his arrival. He slammed on the brakes and got out of the car almost before it had stopped rolling.

"Not bad," one of the men said, looking at his watch. "You might be able to keep her all in one piece after all. Put your hands on the car and spread your legs."

Max did as he was told, anxious to get a move on. The timer was still ticking. The men patted him down and took the Glock at the small of his back and the Ka-Bar that was in his boot. They cuffed his hands behind his back and then shoved him in the back seat of the black Lincoln they'd been driving, leaving the McLaren in the middle of the road.

He didn't fidget in his seat or try to make his position more comfortable since his hands were behind his back. He just stared into the rearview mirror until the driver kept glancing back at him nervously, and then he finally flicked the mirror up so he couldn't see him at all. Max smiled and looked out the window. They had reason to be nervous.

The car pulled to a stop in front of black iron gates, and they opened slowly, letting the car pass through. Max looked around the grounds for alternate escape routes and then looked at the mansion in front of him. It was three stuccoed stories with white balconies on the top two floors and a terra-cotta tile roof. Palm trees flanked the front walkway and the corners of the house, and a long rectangular pool complete with fountains was the centerpiece of the front yard.

The men pulled him out of the back seat of the car and unlocked his cuffs, and Max flexed his wrists, trying to get the blood circulating again.

"You've got three minutes until they start cutting," the driver said. "But you've got to find them first. Better run."

Max took off through the front door and he heard Atticus in his ear. "The phone signal is on the third floor. West corridor. Last room on the left."

He wasn't expecting it to be easy, so when he took the stairs two at a time to the second floor and met with two of Vassin's goons, he barely paused when they came at him. He was a machine, and his feet and fists were all the weapons he needed. He made short work of the men—a kick to the solar plexus for one and a punch to the jaw for the other—rendering them both unconscious.

He continued up the third flight of stairs and followed Atticus's instructions to where the phone signal had been coming from. He heard footsteps from behind him from the guards who'd just stumbled over their friends, and he took out two more who tried to block his way to Vassin.

When Max burst through the door and into the spacious office, his blood ran cold at the sight that greeted him. Jade was standing against one of the bookshelves, a gag tied around her mouth and her wrists tied in front of her. An apple was precariously balanced on top of her head.

"Ahh, you're just in time for the fun, Mr. Devlin," Vassin said from his place behind his desk. He was leaned back in his chair, his eyes giddy with delight at the upcoming festivities. Mr. Smith stood at the opposite end of the room, tossing a knife in his hand.

Max didn't stop to think. He saw Smith toss the knife one last time and get into position to throw it, and he flung his body at him, taking him down just as the knife left his hand. The rage building inside of him made him feel inhuman, more monster than man, but he didn't hesitate to deliver a killing blow to the throat, crushing his trachea.

He was up on his feet again in only seconds, but killing Mr. Smith had wasted precious time. He looked toward Jade, and his heart almost stopped at the sight of the knife buried in the bookshelf where she'd been standing. She'd dropped to the floor the second Max had moved to attack.

"I'm a gun man myself," Vassin said, pointing the weapon at Jade as she worked at the restraints around her wrists. She'd managed to spit out the gag, and she was working quickly and efficiently to get free.

"You owe me a transaction, Mr. Devlin. I'll take the convoy routes now if you please. And if you even think about lying to me I'll put a bullet through her brain."

Max could hear the commands from Atticus as the team stormed the house. He shouldn't have been surprised that Atticus had brought in extra agents for the job.

"You're going to kill me anyway," Max said. "Why should I give you that location?"

Vassin smiled like he was dealing with a bright student. "You're very astute. It only seems fitting that I kill you since you killed Mr. Smith. I believe you told him that good bodyguards are hard to find. Unfortunately, that's true, and he was mine. Maybe I'll take yours instead. I wouldn't mind a bodyguard that gives bed service. It would certainly simplify things."

Max watched from the corner of his eye as Jade got her hands free, and he moved closer to Vassin, hoping he could get close enough to disarm him. The sounds of fighting echoed in his ear, and he knew if wouldn't be long before Vassin realized something was wrong. And then he'd start taking out whoever was closest.

Even as he had the thought the lights went out and they were thrown into complete darkness. A piercing alarm sounded, and Max immediately hit the ground and began rolling as Vassin started firing into the darkness. His only thought was to get to Jade. He'd pinpointed Vassin's location and was about to pounce when the lights came back on as suddenly as they'd gone off.

It took a second for his eyes to adjust, and that second almost cost him his life. He heard Jade's scream of warning from his left just as Vassin brought the gun up, and he swore the time between when the gunshot sounded and when a hundred-and-thirty-pound dynamo smacked into his side, taking him to the ground with her momentum, happened almost simultaneously.

His arms came around her as they hit the ground, and his biggest fear was that she'd just taken the bullet that had been meant for him. He rolled with her and put her body protectively beneath him as the door was kicked open and more shots were fired. Max didn't bother to watch the red bloom on the front of Vassin's shirt, and he didn't bother to watch as Atticus followed up on his shot with another for insurance.

His hands immediately went to the woman beneath him, checking her body for the bullet hole he knew he'd find. Panic ripped at him, and the rush of blood in his ears drowned out all other noise. But finally he realized she was speaking to him, and that there was no blood.

"This seems like a bad time to cop a feel," she said. "I've never been much of an exhibitionist."

Max dropped his forehead to hers and tried to slow his racing heart. "Don't you ever do that again. You scared the hell out of me."

"Hey," she said, taking his face between her hands and forcing him to look into her eyes. "I was watching your back. That's what partners do. You're one of the good guys. I couldn't let anything happen to you."

"You're one of the good guys too, Jax. But if you ever pull a stunt like that again I'll paddle you."

"Promise, promises," she said.

He was laughing as he kissed her.

"Should we leave?" Nate asked. "I could be wrong, but I don't remember make-out sessions being part of the ops."

"Hey," Atticus said. "My agency has a reputation to uphold. Maybe if you two are finished we can get out of here and call this in for cleanup. The SEAL commander just radioed in and said the senator's daughter is secure. We can debrief later."

"Much later," Max said.