CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Billboard looked up the hill to the large, sprawling one story mansion—all glass and wood—that stood on the bluff. Del had parked their vehicle down the street and around the bend, where a few minutes later, Daire and Brent showed up. They’d approached covertly on foot, but Prez and Sarge were already casing the place.

Sarge had hacked into town records, finding the blueprints which they now all had loaded on their phones, but they needed to find out if Jakes had guards or lookouts to be taken care of before the team breached, and that’s what their advance team of two was doing.

Prez had already located the white van parked inside the enormous, open garage.

“They’re here,” he let the team know.

Arrogant sons of bitches, Billboard snarled to himself. Did they figure nobody would come looking?

Prez also kept them apprised as he scoped out the interior of the van, but other than traces of blood—not in the back, but on one of the front seats where the perps would have sat, thank God—he found nothing.

“No exterior security,” Sarge stated eventually.

Had Billboard already thought Jake’s an arrogant ass? Uh, yeah .

“Then we’re going in?” he questioned Del, itching to get moving. Every minute O’Shea was in that house was another minute where they might be doing unspeakable things to her.

“Prez?” Del asked their other man who was already on the scene.

“Lights are on inside the office at the back. Jakes is sitting behind his big-assed desk, glaring at the safe, but I’m not seeing anyone else.”

“Then let’s get him while he’s not expecting company,” Del confirmed. “The windows are…”

“Plentiful,” Sarge confirmed before Del could bring up the schematic on his phone. “At least six, all nearly floor to ceiling.”

Del grunted. “Good. We should be able to use those.” He turned to his guys. “Let’s go.” They all began skulking through the sparse woods.

“The first thing we do once we enter,” Del told them quietly, “is to barricade any inside doors to the office. If Jakes has even just those two guys on premise, they won’t be able to get in to help him.”

That was fine with Billboard. They’d expected Jakes to have a lot of security, but if all he had were the two who’d taken O’Shea? Even better.

“Okay. We’re headed your way,” Del confirmed to Sarge and Prez.

Finally… finally , they were on the move.

“Daire? Brent?” the boss asked. “You have everything we need?”

The pair had climbing ropes looped over their shoulders, as well as large duffels, so the question was clearly moot.

“Harnesses, rappelling devices, and friction hitches for four,” Daire confirmed, patting Brent’s pack.

Del turned to regard Billboard. “You and Wiley join Daire and Brent on the roof and when I give the order, I want a dramatic entrance.”

“You got it,” Wiley answered excitedly.

Billboard would normally be pumped, too, if he weren’t so worried about what was happening with O’Shea. As it was, it took everything in him to tamp down his concern so he could do his job.

Silently, the four split off and moved to a darkened portion of the house where a convenient tree butted up against it. They all climbed swiftly and silently. From the tree, it was an easy, soft leap to the roof, where they hunkered low and made their way to the back of the mansion where Sarge had indicated.

Brent put down his pack and extracted four harnesses, which they all donned without trouble. They were very familiar with the equipment, all of them having used it not only in the service, but on numerous rescue operations thereafter.

Daire opened his duffel and took out more goodies.

Moving steadily but stealthily, he secured the ropes they had to various points with roof anchors, which he somehow managed to do with a minimum of noise. Once that was accomplished, each one of them clipped on and clipped in.

“Ready to roll,” Billboard acknowledged to Del via his earpiece.

“We’re in position, as well,” Del confirmed. “On my go.”

Billboard sucked in a breath.

“Three, two, one…go, go, go.”

Billboard and his three companions backed out over the lip of the roof, and with a healthy kick on the soffit, sent themselves swinging away from the building. With synchronized precision—because they’d been together for so long—their downward trajectory halted at exactly the same height, then feet first, they crashed through four different windows.

Before they could even begin to unclip, Del, Prez, Perk, and Sarge had vaulted in over the sill behind them, and were already headed for two egresses in the room, throwing bolt-locks that, luckily, Jakes had installed.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Jakes blustered, rising to his feet looking equal parts outraged and scared shitless.

“Where’s O’Shea?” Billboard snarled, stalking toward the man with dangerous intent in his eyes.

“Billboard,” Del warned with just the one word.

Billboard glowered, but stopped just short of his prey.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jakes hedged, his gaze darting from one man to another until they rested on Del. “You. Are you in charge of these…men? I’ll have your asses in a sling for this.”

Del maintained a calm that Billboard certainly wasn’t feeling.

“I think you’re the one whose ass is on the line here,” Del told him, almost conversationally. “Stealing from your town’s coffers…” Del clicked his tongue with a regretful, tut-tut. “Very bad. But add kidnapping to those charges, and… That ups your legal troubles, exponentially, I’d say.”

Jakes’ eyes darted to the safe that was familiar to all of them.

“Right,” Del added, his voice turning so cold it could have frosted all the broken glass scattered on the floor. “We know you took O’Shea when you stole the safe. So you might as well come clean.”

“How…how did you find me?” Jakes asked, not answering Del’s question, as sweat beaded up on his forehead.

Sarge composedly walked over to the safe, spinning the dial several times until the door opened. He extracted a small, black box.

Jakes spluttered. “What’s that?”

“A tracker,” Del told him. “The papers were in there previously, but they’re now in the hands of the FBI.”

Jakes fell back into his chair, a horrified look on his face. “No…” he rasped.

“Yes,” Billboard answered. He’d had enough of the nice chit-chat. “Now tell us where O’Shea is, and I won’t beat the shit out of you.”

Jakes straightened up, trying to regain the upper hand…which wasn’t going to happen.

“I have no idea where that odious woman is, and if I did, why would I tell you?”

The man was saved from Billboard’s immediate wrath when there was banging on the door. “Boss? You in there? We finally got the bitch to talk.” The intruder laughed. “It wasn’t easy, but we have the combination.”

Jakes’ eyes went wide. “I… I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

Del extracted his gun and pointed it straight at Jakes’ head. “How many men are here with you?” he asked softly.

“Two,” Jakes sniveled.

Del nodded. “Answer him, then. Tell him he did good, then unlock the door.” He held his weapon steady.

“That’s…good news,” Jakes called out, his voice shaky but not so much that someone not looking for it would notice.

“Wiley, Perk,” Del clipped quietly. “Head out the other door and see if you can find the second man, then locate O’Shea.”

“On it,” Wiley replied. He had the door unlocked in a blink, with both men slipping out silently.

The knocking came again. “Boss? You gonna let me in?”

Del gestured with his gun, and Jakes moved toward the door.

“I’m coming. I’m coming,” he managed.

He threw the bolt and swung the door wide, then pushed his man away, scrambling forward in an effort to escape.

“Billboard?” Del sighed and motioned for Billboard to give chase.

“Gladly,” he growled.

Billboard took off, and within ten yards he had Jakes collared, hauling him back to the office. Brent had taken care of the goon who’d come knocking. The guy was out cold on the floor, his hands zip-tied behind his back.

Wiley and Perk turned the corner.

Empty handed .

“The other perp?” Del asked.

“He’s, uh, indisposed,” Wiley coughed.

“Yeah,” Perk agreed. “He won’t be going anywhere, anytime soon.” He nudged the knocked-out man on the floor with his boot. “He’s having a nap, just like this one.”

“O’Shea?” Billboard’s voice cracked.

“Nowhere to be found,” Wiley shook his head regretfully. “We even tried to get it out of our man, but he wouldn’t give us anything.”

Billboard practically tossed Jakes back into his chair. “That won’t be a problem for me. I know how to get people to talk,” he snarled at their unwilling host. “You want to tell me where she is before I show you how that’s going to go?”

“I have nothing to say,” the man blubbered.

Billboard bent to within an inch of Jakes’ face. “Are you sure? Because here’s your one and only warning. You’re holding the woman I love, and I don’t give a shit how I have to extract that information from you.”

Yeah. He loved O’Shea. He loved the hell out of her. And Billboard didn’t regret admitting it in front of his team. Damn , they probably knew already, anyway. He just wished O’Shea had heard it from him first. But he’d remedy that as soon as he had her back in his arms.

“You…You can’t hurt me. I have rights.” Jakes was still hedging, looking toward Del, who shrugged.

“Oh. Sure.” The boss rubbed his hands together. “Sooo, everyone but Billboard, we’re going to make ourselves scarce and scour this place from top to bottom.” He urged his crew out, pausing only momentarily at the door. “You okay doing this, BB?” he prodded, scowling.

Billboard knew what Del was asking. He understood that Billboard had serious PTSD around what he’d been ordered to perform in the service, but…

“This is O’Shea we’re talking about, Del. I’d give anything I have to make this situation…” He swallowed his words.

Fuck. It was like his brain had just clicked into place. Some of the shit he’d done in the past suddenly made sense.

What he’d been forced to do had been unconscionable, extracting information from prisoners. But in the end, it had saved lives. Many, many lives. And here he was considering torture for just one woman. The woman he loved.

Billboard shook his head.

He understood now. His past actions had, no doubt, given innocent people who loved each other a chance at a future together. He now saw what his shrink, and everyone else around him had been trying to tell him for years. That his actions, although vile, had helped people in the end.

Just as he’d help O’Shea, now.

“Yeah, Del. I’ve got this.”

Del nodded, giving him a quirk of his lips. “I can see that you do.” He turned around and left.

Billboard, already in interrogation mode, spun and confronted Jakes. “It’s just you and me, now,” he baited.

Jakes attempted to rise from the chair, but Billboard sent a foot into Jakes’ gut, tumbling the man backward with an “oof”. Swiftly picking up one of the ropes that the team had discarded on the floor, Billboard wrapped it around Jake’s middle and arms several times, binding him in place.

“Now. Let’s see what I can do to persuade you…” Billboard scooped up a large, jagged shard of glass from the floor, grabbed Jakes by the hair, and cranked his neck back.

“A few slices here and there?” Billboard speculated, showing no emotion. “Not your carotid artery though. That would have you bleeding out too fast. No. I want to make this as painful as possible.” He jabbed the pointy end into Jakes’ throat a mere eighth of an inch, and Jakes squealed.

“You can’t do this,” the man sobbed.

“I can,” Billboard stated. “You don’t see anybody here who’s going to stop me, do you?” he jeered. “And what a shame that when those windows broke, you were cut all over , by the flying glass.”

Billboard grasped Jakes’ hand, turning it over so his soft palm was belly up.

“Maybe a piece even went right through here.” He tapped the glass a few times on the guy’s cold flesh, digging in a little deeper each time.

“I… I don’t know where she is. My men…they let her go before they got here.”

“Now that’s kind of funny,” Billboard returned, bringing the glass up to regard it thoughtfully. “Because I could have sworn your goon said they’d extracted information from her.”

“Yes,” Jake’s cried out, hope sparking in his eyes. “They did. But that was before they got her here.”

“Oh, really?” Billboard pondered.

This is what he was good at. Giving his victim a little hope before dashing it again. As many times as it took. Billboard stroked the piece of glass, almost lovingly as Jakes continued to dig his own grave.

“That’s right. I’d…I’d never condone them harming her. They did that on their own.”

Billboard sent the shard back down without warning, completely impaling Jakes’ hand, securing it to the arm of the chair.

Jakes screamed.

“You want to rethink that answer?” Billboard thundered, leaning down to get another fragment of glass from the floor. “Because this new piece here might just skewer your balls.”

“Okay, okay,” Jakes gave in, snot running from his nose as he moaned. “She’s…in the basement.”

“Where in the basement?” Billboard wasn’t buying it. “My friends said they searched the whole house and didn’t find her.”

“There’s…there’s a second…sub-basement,” he bawled. “Behind a tall metal cabinet.”

Billboard got back into the man’s face.

“You better not be lying, because I’ll have you bleeding from so many holes, you’ll be wishing for death.”

“I’m not lying. I’m not,” Jakes heaved out.

“Del!” Billboard raised his voice to call his boss, but he knew the man was lingering just outside in case Billboard had lost it.

“I heard,” Del answered. “Let’s go.”

Billboard didn’t hesitate, but took off at a run.

“Wait,” Jakes’ plea wailed from behind him. “You can’t leave me like this!”

Billboard didn’t answer.

Let the prick stew.