Page 49 of Slaying for Santa
“As soon as I find Libi and Bell, then fucking go for it,” I mutter, feeling my palms sweat with the urge to kill every motherfucker in here.
“Cipher to Viper.” Julian’s voice crackles in my earpiece.
“Go ahead,” I mutter, knowing he can hear me.
“I’m locked into the security system here. Nothing untoward is happening right now, but I’ve gone back through the footage for the last hour and can confirm that your slayer was here and left with Snake about thirty minutes ago.”
“Fuck, Bell. What are you doing?” I mutter to myself, knowing my whole team can hear me on comms, but not fucking caring.
“Can you track the car?” Wes asks for me since my head isn’t real fucking clear right now.
“I tried but lost it,” Julian mutters. “I’m currently back-tracking to follow his security. They left at the same time, but on foot. I’ll let you know as soon as I find anything.”
“Copy that,” Wes mutters before Cipher goes offline.
“Ghost to Viper.” Colt’s deep but gentle voice comes through the comms next. “I have eyes on Snake’s right-hand Serpent. You wanna have a chat with him?”
I smirk, meeting Wes’s eyes as I nod and respond. “Fuck yeah. Snatch the fucker and let’s show him how the Red Belly Team likes to party.”
“Copy that,” Ghost says, and suddenly, the panic inside me starts to recede.
Mattier Arnold, aka the Mad Hatter, is not only Snake’s right-hand man, but his best buddy. If Snake has either or both of my girls, this fucker will know about it.
Wes and I brush off about six fucking attempts by hammered chicks on our way through the pub and out the rear doors to our waiting van.
Inside, we find the rest of my team, as well as a bound and gagged Mad Hatter, and the moment I close the door, Doc is speeding us away from the Prince Hotel to find a nice, secluded place for our little party.
The drive takes about twenty minutes and gets a little bumpy as we near Potter Point, but it’s the perfect location where the roar of the waves crashing against the rocky cliffs will drown out any screams. There are no houses or buildings out here. Just sandy walking tracks and rocky cliffs that roll down into the ocean.
I’m in no mood for fucking around, so we have Mattierout of the van and on his knees on the ledge of the rocky cliffs in a matter of minutes, Doc and Ghost blinding him with torches so he can’t see us properly, as I fit the silencer onto my gun.
“Where’s the girl Carlos brought to Snake?” I sneer, and right as Wes rips the tape off Mattier’s lips, he spits in my direction.
“Fuck you! I will never tell you where she is!”
I pull the trigger, his cry more of a gasped gurgle as the bullet tears through his shoulder.
“I’ll ask again. Where’s the girl?”
“Fuck you.” He grunts in pain. “Snake will gut you for this.”
I scoff. “I will gut you if you don’t tell me what I need to know.”
“All you need to know is your little girl might not be so innocent before the night is through.”
I want to blow his fucking head off, but I need intel, so I fight that fucking urge and blast through his thigh this time.
His cry is higher pitched this time. Probably because I shot him so close to his fucking nuts.
Every time I ask him a question and he refuses to answer, I shoot something of his. His wrist, his fingers, his gut, making sure it’s just a flesh wound so he won’t bleed out straight away.
The moment I press the silencer barrel to his dick, he speaks up.
“H-he went h-home with a chick,” Mattier sobs. “H-he lives four blocks from the Prince Hotel. Tobias Street. Number s-seven.”
“The chick he was with. She have dark hair and a chest tatt?” I snarl, and he nods quickly.
“Y-yeah. Her ink travelled up her throat. Had more tatts on her arms and legs.”
