I must’ve drifted off—because the next thing I knew, an enormous, house-shaking explosion went off somewhere outside.
I rolled out of bed and strangled a scream. My ears rang and I heard shouting outside. I ran to the window and stared out, trying to see what was going on, but I didn’t have a good view. I saw paper fluttering in the air and thought there were chunks of metal—maybe a side mirror from a car—and the flickering shadows of fire. I smelled smoke when I opened the window and heard more shouting, more yelling. Footsteps stomped around the house and I knew something big happened.
I pulled on my shoes and socks, heart racing. I didn’t know what was going on or what I thought I could do about it, but I wanted to be ready just in case. As the shouting got louder, and began to reach a panicked note, I heard steps outside. I stood up, figuring this was it—Vincent was coming for me, maybe using the chaos as an opportunity to make me disappear.
The door unlocked with a loud thud. I stood there, heart racing, bruises aching, but nobody came through. I took a few steps toward the door, but only heard the yelling from downstairs. I reached out for the knob, turned it—and pushed it open.
The hallway was empty.
I stood in the doorway, confused as hell, not sure what was going on. The shouting came through clearer. They were trying to put out a fire that was raging downstairs, and I heard snippets of what had happened—some sort of car accident.
Someone had unlocked my door. I didn’t know who, and some part of me thought this was a test, and maybe I should turn around and head back into my room—but no, I couldn’t do that, even if this was a loyalty test, I had to take the chance. I was willing to fail if it meant I could go free.
I began to walk as fast as I could in the opposite direction of the shouting men. I saw the staircase that led back down into the kitchen and started formulating my plan of escape—
When a pair of hands flew out from a dark room on my right, grabbed me and yanked me inside, a hand covering my mouth, pressing down hard enough to stop the scream that tried to rip out from my throat.
23
Reid
I leaned up against an old Volkswagen Beetle and peered into the back seat. Small, wrapped brown bundles were lined up along the floor with a small square circuit board and a red LED light on top of it. We stood outside a low, gray building, the car parked next to the curb. Streetlight dripped yellow light down around our feet and people walked past on the opposite sidewalk. It was a clear, crisp night, almost comfortable, ten minutes past midnight, and I wondered if the weather would hold off for a little bit longer. I turned back to Aldrik, frowning and shaking my head.
“Tell me this is going to work.”
Aldrik gave me the thumbs-up. “It’ll work, boss. I rigged it myself.”
“That’s not exactly making me feel better.”
Enrico laughed and nudged against Aldrik. “Say what you will about him, but Aldrik knows his explosives.”
“It’s a pretty simple setup,” he said. “C4 wrapped in burlap along the floor with a remote detonator. I have it programmed to my phone, so all I have to do is send the trigger and boom, up it goes.”
“How big of an explosion?”
Aldrik hesitated, making a face. “Big enough to get their attention.”
I stared at him. “Aldrik. Be specific.”
He grinned. “Uh, well, it’ll blow a hole in the building for sure, but it won’t level the block. How’s that sound?”
I grimaced and sighed. Fortunately, the mansion took up the entire block, so there wouldn’t be any collateral damage unless something went really wrong.
Which was possible, of course. I was letting them drive a car bomb up to the front doors of the Leone family’s headquarters, and trusting that Aldrik could rig it right without wrecking something important. I wanted to double-check his work, but I didn’t know dick about bombs either, and so I had to trust him—even if I didn’t want to.
This was a really shitty plan. We’d come up with it on the fly and had a day to throw it together. The Beetle was an absurd choice of car but it was the first one we came across. Enrico stole it and drove it to a garage we own, where Aldrik got to work rigging it to blow. I spent the afternoon pacing around, cursing to myself, wondering if Aldrik was going to get us all killed, but by the time sunset came, it seemed as though it might actually happen.
Enrico dug inside a black bag he had at his feet and came up with a blue shirt. “Here, here. Put this on.”
I held it up and looked at the logo on the right chest pocket. “Sanford Bro’s Electrical? What the hell is this?”
“That’s the company that does the Leones’ house,” he said. “Heard about them from a friend and managed to snag you a shirt.”
“How’d you manage that?”
He grinned and shrugged. “That friend happens to work at a garment company that happens to make those shirts.”
I laughed, stripped off my shirt, threw it on the ground, and pulled the blue polo over my head. It fit, but barely. I tucked it into my jeans, feeling like a nerd, but I figured a real worker would do that much at least.
“How do I look?”
“Like a real working stiff.” Enrico crossed his arms. “You ready for this, boss?”
“I got the easy part.”
He snorted. “Hardly. You’re the one going inside.”
“And you’re the one driving in that death trap.”
“Not a death trap,” Aldrik grumbled.
“Don’t worry about us,” Enrico said. “We know what to do. You get into position and wait for us to do our thing and then make your move, all right? Get the girl, bring her out, and we’ll be waiting nearby.”
“Roger that.” I had the suddenly impulse to shake his hand, but pushed it away. I had to keep steady and controlled. “I’m heading out. You two follow soon.”
“See you on the other side, boss.” He grinned at me, and I saw a sparkle of excitement in his eyes. Enrico had a wild streak about him, a little reckless and stupid sometimes, and the man lived for this sort of shit—which was probably why he agreed in the first place.
“It’ll work,” Aldrik said as I looked at him. “Cross my heart and all that.”
“For your sakes, I hope that’s true.” I turned and left them standing next to the rigged Beetle. My car was parked a block over. I got behind the wheel and sat there for a second, getting myself together, taking deep breaths. The weight of my gun in my waistband was comforting against the small of my back, and I knew that I might not come home after this, that I might be driving to my own death—but fuck it, I couldn’t leave Cora behind.
They took my wife. They had to pay.
I started the engine and drove. Staff entered the Leone mansion through the back, but I couldn’t just pull up and park with all the other employees. I found a spot a few blocks away and got out, walking through the crisp evening. When I got close to the mansion, I slowed down and casually leaned up against a bodega catty-corner to the back entrance. I watched guys come and go carrying boxes, trash, packages, bags of shit I didn’t recognize. I checked my watch: twenty after midnight. Ten minutes until the explosion.