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Dangerous Victor: (Soldiering On #3) Page 13


  Six-inch Subway sandwiches scattered the table. One female gang member threw one of the sandwiches in her direction. Radha caught it instinctively and unwrapped it. Ham. She wrapped it again and then offered it to Diego.

  “You don’t want to eat?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “I’m vegetarian.”

  She thought he would have remembered that, it had annoyed him enough during the days of their relationship.

  He frowned. “Still?”

  “Always,” she confirmed.

  He sighed. “Fine.” He turned to one of the guys that had been with him earlier. “Mickey, did you get any vegetarian ones?”

  Mickey thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, but I think they’re gone. Dana grabbed them.”

  Diego turned back to Radha with an apologetic shrug. “You could take out the meat?”

  Radha shuddered. “It’s fine,” she said, as her stomach growled.

  It was then that Victor strode in, and Radha shrank back against the wall, trying to make herself invisible. Victor’s eyes swept the room, lingering on Radha. A chill ran down her spine. After an endless moment, his gaze moved on, and Radha let out a relieved breath.

  “While most of you are here, I want to introduce you to our guest, Radha,” said Victor, waving his hand in her direction.

  Every eye in the room turned towards her. Radha gulped at the intimidating stares, giving an awkward wave at the deadly group now wholly focused on her.

  “Radha,” Victor continued. “Will be helping me—and a select few of you—with a special project.”

  He pointed to a few of the gang members sitting around the table, saying their names as he did so. Radha was too busy watching Victor for any signs that he might turn on her to pay attention, until Diego nudged her.

  “Let’s go,” he whispered.

  The small group—six, including her and Diego—followed Victor out of the dining hall and into his throne room. Radha once again rolled her eyes at the opulence. It was like a small boy’s fantasy of how a king would live.

  It struck Radha that perhaps Victor’s delusions of grandeur could be of use to her. It explained why he had agreed to go through with Radha’s proposal—he saw himself living like royalty, and millions of dollars of the casino’s money could help him do it.

  Radha filed the information away at the back of her mind and focused back on Victor. He eyed her carefully, so she gave him a small smile and stepped close. Don’t show fear.

  “You’ll have to explain your plan to us,” said Victor.

  She nodded and stepped forward as they gathered around a mahogany table to the right of the room. Sheets of paper had been spread across the surface. It took Radha a long moment before she recognised the blueprints for the casino.

  “Where did you get these?” she demanded. When they all glared at her, she realised her mistake. “I just meant these are hard to come by.”

  “We have sources,” said Victor. He must have been referring to his inside man.

  “Well,” she replied. “Those sources might come in handy later in the week.”

  “Later tonight,” Victor corrected.

  Radha stilled. “What?”

  Victor smiled, and it wasn’t a pleasant smile. “We’re going in later tonight,” he told her.

  Radha glanced around the table, trying to discern if he was joking, but no one looked amused. Eventually, her gaze landed on Diego. He was already looking at her, something indefinable on his face.

  But he said nothing.

  “It’s impossible,” Radha said. “We need time to plan.”

  Victor raised his eyebrows. “I thought you said you already had a plan. Or was that a lie to save your own life.”

  Anxiety tightened her chest. Radha exhaled, trying to keep calm, knowing how precarious her situation was.

  “I said I had knowledge. I also happen to have at least part of a plan. But it is very dependent on what skills your people have whether it will work.”

  “What kind of skills?” Diego asked.

  “Safecracking, hacking, disguise?”

  Diego glanced at Victor, who shook his head. “Who do you think we are? Ocean’s Eleven?”

  Radha’s skin grew clammy at the rage building in Victor’s eyes. “No, it was just…”

  Victor glared at her. “Your plan was to walk in and walk out. You never mentioned special skills. So if you are reneging on the deal—”

  He whipped the gun from the waistband of his pants and pointed it in Radha’s direction. Her hands shot up in surrender. Ice cold fear ran through Radha’s veins, freezing her to the spot.

  She swallowed. “I was just asking,” she tried, but Victor didn’t seem convinced.

  “Maybe we should shoot you now, and then all of your friends at the casino later,” he threatened.

  “No! There’s no reason for anyone to get hurt. Besides, you still need me.” The gun seemed so big, so close, looming in her field of vision like a malevolent creature.

  The other gang members were still, watchful, but none of them made a move to help. Radha wished desperately that Zack were here. He’d know exactly what to do, exactly how to get out of this mess.

  “Or I could forget this whole plan and kill you right now, with no one the wiser.”

  Tears burned at the back of her eyes, her mind blanking on what to say. She couldn’t argue. Logically, it was the smarter move for him to kill her now and not go through with this non-existent plan.

  She’d tried, she had. At least Zack was safe now.

  “Surely…” she began, not sure where she was going with it, but knowing something had to be said. “Surely it’s worth a try?”

  Diego shifted somewhere to her left. “Boss?” he said. “Maybe we should hear the plan first, before making any decisions.” Radha risked a glance at Diego, wondering why he supported her now, when he’d been so determined not to be on her side. His expression was impassive, telling her nothing, but his defence bolstered her flagging confidence just the same.

  Victor continued to hesitate. Radha took a deep breath, giving it one last shot. “There should be about twenty million dollars there at any given time. If it’s right before a collection, it could easily be thirty million or more. That’s a lot of money. Just think what you could do with it.”

  Radha had spent years in a job that helped sell a fantasy to people—the fantasy that they would strike it rich and leave their humdrum lives for something far more exciting. That fantasy had never been more important than it was in this moment.

  “You could buy more of those cars you like, redecorate the lower levels. You could do anything you wanted.”

  Silence settled over the room. Radha didn’t take her eyes from Victor, watching as conflicting emotions played across his face: greed, fury, distrust. Slowly, surely, greed won the battle. He lowered his gun, glaring at her with thwarted rage.

  “Fine,” he said eventually through clenched teeth. “I’ll hear what you have to say.”

  Radha gulped, hoping her half-assed plan would become fully fleshed out by the time she’d finished speaking.

  Otherwise she had absolutely no doubt Victor would kill her, and enjoy every last second of it.

  Chapter 20

  He wasn’t too late. Radha was alive—at least, he was fairly certain it was her he’d glimpsed through the mansion windows, heading deeper into the building.

  The vice that had been tightening around his chest slowly loosened, and he sucked in a deep breath. The extra oxygen and the knowledge that she was unhurt and moving on her own power—even surrounded by guards—kicked his brain into gear. He needed a plan. A good one, and a safe one. With Radha being held in an unknown part of the mansion, he couldn’t go in guns—and grenades—blazing, or she might get hurt.

  Zack settled in to wait, more patient now. The bark of the tree scratched his thighs and back, and his spine ached from the awkward position he was in. But it was the best place for him to watch, gather information, a
nd plan.

  The guards still made their rounds at the back of the house at sporadic intervals, but it had never taken them less than five minutes to come around again. Zack would use that baseline to time his infiltration.

  The cover of darkness would be better, so he’d wait as long as he could before scaling the wall. In the meantime, he’d keep watch and make sure Radha was still alive.

  Eventually, darkness fell, the soft blush of lavender on the horizon fading to a deep navy blue. The guards disappeared again, leaving Zack with at least five minutes to get over the wall and to a hiding spot. Zack unfurled himself from his perch on the tree, stretching out as many of the kinks as he could before slinging the duffel over his shoulder and shimmying down the tree.

  The street was empty, most residents safely ensconced in their homes on the cool autumn evening. Zack crossed the road, glad Victor hadn’t installed any security cameras to watch the outside of the compound.

  Zack ran his left hand over the compound wall and smiled. A rough finish had been spread over solid concrete, which would give his shoes a good grip. Zack shrugged out of his hoodie and shivered as the cold night air hit his bare arms. He was glad of it. With his burn scars, he found he didn’t sweat as much as he should, making overheating an all too possible outcome.

  Zack tested his hoodie, tugging on it. Then, he held the bottom and the sleeves and flicked the garment up towards the top of the fence—and the metal pole thrusting toward the sky that the barbed wire was attached to.

  He missed, so dragged the hoodie back down and tried again. This time, the hood snagged on the pole. A thrill of satisfaction ran through him. He tested it, pulling with all his strength. Both the fabric and the pole held, though he could feel a bit of give in the pole.

  Headlights appeared at the top of the road. Zack tucked his hands in his pockets and calmly moved around the corner. The car sped past, not slowing, paying no attention to him.

  He breathed a sigh of relief, conscious of his five minutes quickly slipping away. Then, he slung the duffel onto his shoulder and grabbed the hoodie again. His right hand ached as he clutched at the fabric, transferring all his weight onto it as he moved his left hand up. His grip was weak, having barely been used for years, but it managed to hold him until he could reach the top of the wall.

  The barbed wire was in coils, set back a bit from the lip of the wall. It gave Zack just enough room for his arm to rest along the edge. He walked his feet up the wall until he could place the toe of his right foot near his hand. This gave him enough leverage to stand. He picked up his hoodie, shook it out, then slipped it back on.

  In the dark, he could see just enough of the ground beneath him to judge where he should throw the duffel so it landed in the bushes with a rustle. Then, he stretched his shoulders, took a deep breath, and leapt over the barbed wire and onto the grass beneath him. Normally he wouldn’t attempt this manoeuvre without a run up to hit the ground at a better angle, but he had to work with what he had. He landed hard with a thud and immediately rolled, spreading as much of the impact across his body as he could. The roll brought him back up to his feet and he stumbled slightly before righting himself.

  He blinked, clearing the last of the bone-jarring landing from his system.

  Time ticked by; the guards would be around again any second. Zack grabbed his duffel and sprinted towards the house. Voices sounded as he reached the darkened terrace door, so he pulled it open and slipped inside without checking if the room was empty. He froze inside, listening for any change in the voices or their footsteps to see if he’d been discovered.

  No running footsteps, or shouts of warning. Zack exhaled a relieved breath, and then turned to survey the room he’d found himself in.

  It was empty. Cool moonlight spilled through the three sets of terrace doors that lined the long side of the room. A pool table dominated the centre of the space, with a dartboard over on the far short wall. On Zack’s right, only a few steps from him, sat a well-stocked corner bar.

  He grinned.

  Zack dug through the duffel bag and grabbed one of the small blocks of C4 as he strode over to the bar. He attached it under the bar, out of sight, then grabbed a couple of the bottles off the shelf and surrounded the bomb with them in the hope it would help the flames catch quicker.

  He had to be careful. He didn’t really want to kill anyone—not unless he had to. But he did need a big enough distraction to get everyone out of the house so he could find Radha.

  He set the timer for five minutes. It should be enough time for him to get to the other side of the building. Nerves sent a faint tremor through him as he considered his next step. It had been a long time since he’d been a part of the action—not since the accident that cost him his looks and full control over his right hand. While Blake and Sam had gotten into numerous scrapes, Zack had done his best to stay behind a desk. He was still in shape, but what if his reflexes weren’t as sharp as they used to be?

  Besides, he’d been a Marine—part of a squad. Now, he was alone.

  Zack squeezed his eyes shut and thought of Radha. He had to reach her; he had to save her.

  With that thought, he moved toward the door to the rest of the house, his feet silent on the hardwood floors. He cracked the door open and peered out. An empty corridor.

  He slipped out, his gun at the ready in front of him, the duffel in his other hand. Numerous rooms dotted the corridor, but they were all empty when he checked. He moved on, further into the mansion.

  The corridor opened into a large entrance hall with a grand staircase. He could see a shadow on the other side of the front door, obviously a guard. Laughter trickled down from above, and Zack realised the reason he hadn’t seen anyone yet was there was some kind of gathering in a room upstairs.

  He was torn between checking to see if Radha was with everyone else, and using the opportunity he’d been unexpectedly granted to search for her in other rooms. Deciding it was too risky to get close to the group upstairs, Zack crossed the entrance hall and ducked down another corridor.

  It was darker here, with no lights to guide his way. He dared not risk turning the hall lights on, but hoped a flashlight would go unnoticed. He dug in his pocket and brought out his keys with a tiny torch attached as a keyring. He swung the beam over the corridor, then kept the light low, giving him the barest glow from which to navigate.

  He tried a few doors, and they swung open. Again, the rooms were empty. Then, one handle stuck fast under his hand. He paused, considering his options. There was no guarantee Radha was behind the door, but he decided the chance of it being anyone else—if there was someone in there—was extremely slim.

  “Radha?” he hissed.

  He stilled, a pregnant pause while he strained his ears for a response.

  “Zack?” he heard from the other side of the door. His heart leapt in delight. She was alive!

  “I’m going to get you out, just give me a second.”

  Movement sounded behind the door as she shuffled closer.

  “How did you find me?” she whispered through the keyhole. Zack dug through the duffel, looking for the lock picks. His hand closed over the pouch and he grinned in triumph.

  “I’ll explain later. For now, let’s get you safe.”

  As he inserted a lock pick into the keyhole, the sounds from the entrance hall shifted and changed. It took Zack a second to register the group from upstairs were now coming down—moving closer to him with every step.

  He clicked off the torch and focused on the lock pick, listening hard for that sweet click that would tell him the door was unlocked. The pitch dark corridor should disguise him for at least a few moments.

  Adrenaline flooded through him, making his hands unsteady. Sweat beaded at the back of his neck as the lock pick slipped.

  He took a steadying breath and tried again. The laughter was growing closer.

  Finally, finally, the lock clicked open. Zack opened the door to find Radha backlit by a high window. It was unm
istakeably her—her shape, her height, her way of carrying herself—and Zack wondered idly when he had become such an expert on Radha Iyer.

  He stood, taking a step into the room, and Radha threw her arms around him.

  “Thank God you came,” she whispered fiercely into his chest.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?” he joked, burying his face in her hair. She was alive and in his arms and nothing else mattered. As much as he wished they could stay that way forever, Zack was conscious of where they were. They could be discovered at any moment.

  “We need to leave. Now,” he whispered.

  She reluctantly nodded and pulled back, her hand still resting on his upper arm. But he couldn’t allow himself to be distracted by that—by her. They’d have to run—possibly fight their way out.

  He grabbed her hand, taking a few steps toward the door—

  A deafening blast rocked the mansion, making them stumble sideways. A ringing started in Zack’s ears, and his head felt like cotton.

  That wasn’t right. The blast shouldn’t have hit them there.

  Zack blinked and shook his head, trying to clear the ringing. Shouts sounded, as if from a great, awning distance.

  IED, his brain supplied. They’d been hit. Smoke filled his nostrils, the scent of singed flesh overwhelming him. His squad. He had to get to his squad. Get them out of the Humvee.

  He fell to his knees, searing pain down his right side. He tasted dust.

  A voice sounded near him. A woman. But he didn’t have any women in his squad.

  He shook his head again. Not an IED.

  A face came into his field of vision. Radha. That’s right. The room behind her materialised in his field of vision, and fear of their present situation suddenly crowded his mind, mixing with the terror of the past.

  The pain in his right side receded. He looked down and realised his fingers had been digging in to his arm. He slowly loosened his cramping fingers. He glanced back up at Radha, anchoring himself in her worried eyes.

  “Zack?” she asked, as if in slow motion.