Page 62 of Heston
“And you realize how easy it is for the Irish Mafia to grease the right palms, pay somebody to look the other way in our messed-up federal government, right?” Heston had her there and he knew it.
“That’s true, but… damn it. You might be right. Hold, please. I’m getting Mark on the line and… Mark? Heston knows who the Irishman is, and Alex isn’t going to like it.”
At last! Not‘thinks he knows’, but‘knows’.
“Who?” Mark barked.
“Tell him, Hes,” Mother ordered. So Heston repeated what he knew to be true, then explained his line of reasoning and how he got there.
“Alex’ll go ape-shit crazy,” Mark muttered. “Where are you guys?”
“West on the GW, on Obermeyer’s tail,” Zack answered. “Pretty sure Miles is driving the SUV with Obermeyer and Lancaster, also London, if that’s her in the body bag. Mother, have you run him through your facial rec program yet? Can you verify the driver ahead of us? Is he the Irishman?”
“If he’s Miles, where’s his old man, Lancaster?” Mark asked before Mother could reply.
“Unknown,” Heston answered. “But if Miles and Obermeyer are here—”
“Let me worry about Lancaster. There’s got to be photos of Miles online… Traffic cams…” Mother must’ve muted herheadset, because suddenly her voice belted out, “Found him! Miles Wirth is driving the first SUV. The older guy with Obermeyer is—Shit! It’s Lancaster Wirth. You’re following the men responsible for trying to kill Kelsey and kidnapping London.”
“End them,” Mark ordered vehemently. “You heard Alex. Kill the sons of bitches.”
“Copy that,” Heston barked back. “After London’s safe.”
Mark disconnected and Zack glanced at Heston. “How the hell do you know all this?”
Heston didn’t have time to explain how his brain worked. It was nothing to be proud of, not as long as it had taken him to connect the dots between Bates, Keane, Obermeyer, Miles, and Lancaster. “It stands to reason. Lancaster worked closely with Pops Delaney,” Heston postulated, “which is how he knew about Alex.”
“Because Mel Stewart ran with Delaney, yeah. I get that.”
“And because Mel’s a braggart and a do-nothing. Back then, he probably wanted to get in good with the boss. It would’ve made him a big man to hang with someone as powerful as Lancaster. So he sucked up like any spineless, wannabe gangster does with a drug lord.” Which essentially, Lancaster Wirth was.
“Okay, yeah. Mel blabbed about how successful Alex and his business were, about Alex’s wife, kids, and—”
“And when President Adams publicly invited Alex to stand with him as his next VP,” Heston cut in, “Wirth saw a way to get inside the White House. He figured all he had to do was put the fear of losing his family into Alex, and Alex would fold like his own weak-kneed son did.”
“Giving Lancaster undue influence in American politics,” Mother breathed. “Son of a bitch!” And now she sounded like Alex.
“Hold on, London,” Hes whispered. “I’m coming, baby. I’m—”
“We’re coming,” Zack snapped. “You tell herwe’recoming. You and me and Mom, andwe’retaking every last one of these motherfuckers down!”
The Porsche leaped forward at Zack’s command. The quick response of the horses under its sleek black hood pushed Heston into his seat. He turned to really look at Zack then. The big man was a bald chunk of bronzed, carved granite and just as hard. A Marine like Alex, mean and mad as hell. His knuckles were big and white on the steering wheel. His dark brows were slammed together over the angry scowl of a fire-breathing gargoyle. It helped knowing a man like Zack had his back. Heston took a breath and let himself hope. Obermeyer and Lancaster thought they’d backed Alex into a corner by sending Malloy and his smart gun after Kelsey?
Guess again, assholes. You pissed off the wrong Devil Dogs. You’re already dead. You just don’t know it.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
London fell to her knees, then scrambled as quickly as she could into the prickly cover of the thickest briar patch she’d ever seen. Thorns dug at her already-bruised skin, tearing long scratches down her battered arms, chest, and belly. The wiry brambles were as sharp as barbed-wire. The deeper into the brush she went, the harder those thorns gouged every bit of her naked body. Regardless, she plowed through, needing to be out of sight and hidden within the depths of this naturally made hellhole, instead of trapped in the one waiting for her if Obermeyer and his hunting buddies found her. She was damned if she’d go down easy. Not here. No way. She absolutely planned to save those other women. They deserved a chance, too. She would rescue them. She would!
But to do that, she needed to live, and to live, she had to hide for as long as it took to catch her breath and form a workable plan. When Obermeyer and his creepy friends stuffed her into that body bag and smuggled her out of that stinking container, at first, she’d thought they’d dumped her on a couple dead bodies. Until one of them moved and another whimpered. That tiny sound led to quiet questions and muffled answers. She now knew there had been three other women with her: Maria, Tandy, and Felicia. Then. Now—only two remained. London was the only one who could save them. So she would—somehow. The game they were caught up in was as barbaric as the jerks hunting them.
The moment Obermeyer unzipped the body bag, he ordered her and the other women to, “Take your clothes off! All of you! Hurry! Drop ’em! Everything goes. Faster, gawddamnit!”
Hurriedly, she’d undressed, but tried to maintain some level of situational awareness while she did. She didn’t have a clue where she was, and she didn’t recognize the bikers in leather vests with Obermeyer. Had never seen them before. Neither did she recognize the two gentlemen in suits—make that assholes—with him. Both watched her and the other women undress like a couple perverts.
Once she and the other women were naked and shivering, Obermeyer lifted his rifle, which she was pretty sure was a Ruger Bolt Action, aimed it at her head, and bragged, “This rifle’s same as the ones Alaskan guides use to hunt grizzlies and Kodiak bears, little girl.”
“Get it, sweet cheeks?” the red-haired, whiskered man at his elbow aimed that insult at her.
