Page 76 of Unloaded
“Vena isn’t who has Rachel,” Kelvin announces. I sit up a little straighter.
“Who has her?” Bo asks before I can.
“Nicolai Caprice.”
“Fuck!” Bo and I say at the same time.
“I’ve made contact with Caprice,” Kelvin continues, as if we hadn’t spoken. “He’s willing to talk but on his terms. I’m not sure we can trust him. Heishead of the Russian mafia after all.”
“Why would he talk to us?” Bo questions. “He has what he wants, so why bother?” I’m glaring at my brother. He gives me an unapologetic shrug.
“What are his terms?” I ask, ignoring Bo’s questions.
“The reason he’s agreed to talk is I have gathered some very creditable and damning information on him,” Kelvin declares arrogantly. “I merely mentioned that we have connections with several agencies that would be highly interested in getting their hands on that information.” Kelvin is cut throat, there’s no doubt about it. I’m glad he’s on our side.
“Do you really have something on him?” I can’t help asking. Kelvin is a badass with computers, even better than Luke, but he loves to bluff. I’m not willing to risk Rachel’s life on Kelvin’s confidence of being able to pull one over on the head of the fucking Russian mafia.
“Of course, I do,” Kelvin replies. “I even sent him a little preview of what I have, which is the reason he’s agreed to meet.”
“What about the twins?” Bo asks, “Can he negotiate their release, too?”
“Vena has the twins,” Kelvin answers, sounding less confident. “I’m working on getting enough evidence on him to make a similar trade, but Vena might not be so cooperative. Those boys are his sons, his blood. I say we focus on the meeting with Caprice for now.”
“When and where?” I bark. I want to get Rachel back now, not later. God only knows what may have already happened to her. At the same time, I can’t neglect the twins. They’re important, not only to her but to my family, too.
“Sending details now,” Kelvin says as mine and Bo’s phones ping at the same time.
“Rosco?” Luke joins the conversation, “Are you certain you can keep your cool? You can’t lose your shit on this guy, understand?”
“I’ll do my best,” I answer honestly. “But I’m not promising anything. If he’s hurt her, the feds won’t have to worry about taking him down. I’ll end him.”
“Well, I guess that’s the best I can hope for,” Luke says sounding exasperated. “Bo, bring him and Rachel home in one piece, please?”
“Don’t worry, bro.” Bo chuckles. “We got this, but just in case, keep some bail money handy.” I just shake my head. Since Bo has been with Shelby, he’s been even more laid back about somethings than he’d been before, but he’s more protective and careful when out in the field. I know he’ll have my back and keep me from going off half-cocked.Hang on, Angel, I’m coming for you!
Two hours later, after we’ve landed on a helipad on top of a high-rise building owned by Caprice, I’m pacing impatiently, while Bo is calmly watching me wear a hole in the expensive carpet of the room we’d been placed in upon our arrival.
“Bro, you need to calm down,” Bo counsels for the tenth time. It’s no more effective now than it was the last time he’d said it.
“How calm were you when Shelby was being held?” I should feel like shit for reminding him, but I’m past worrying about anyone except for Rachel.
“Point taken.” Bo sighs. “Still, getting agitated isn’t going to help Rachel.” My face is going to hurt for days with how hard I’ve been frowning since learning she wasn’t at Luke’s.
“What the hell’s taking so long?” I demand, spinning to face Bo. “We’ve been waiting for an hour and a half. The bastard knows we’re here. What’s he waiting for?”
The door to the room we’ve been waiting in opens, and an older woman enters carrying another tray of refreshments. I haven’t touched a thing on the first tray she’d brought when we first arrived. Bo, however, has eaten and drunk like he hasn’t eaten for days.
“My apologies, gentlemen,” a man I assume is Caprice says from the door. He follows the woman into the room. “For keeping you waiting. I’ve had some…issues to deal with. I’m Nicolai Caprice, and you are?” The man walks up to me holding out his hand.
“Rosco Robertson,” I answer through gritted teeth, gripping his hand in a firmer than necessary handshake. He returns the grip, our handshake turning into a near arm wrestling match.
“Bo Robertson.” My brother walks up, holding out his hand. Caprice glances at Bo, seeming as reluctant to end our pissing contest as I am, but he relents to shake Bo’s hand.
“What can I do for you, gentlemen?”
“You can tell me where Rachel is!” I insist. His brow crinkles for a moment.
“Are you asking after Amelia?” Now it’s my turn to frown, until I remember Rachel telling me her birth given name.
