Twisted Mercy (Red Team Book 4) (14 page)

“This is the end of the line for you, Hatchet. We’re done. I see no hidden entry, no old mineshafts. Nothing.”

Hatchet grinned. “Well, if you saw it, it wouldn’t be hidden, now would it?” He walked over to a patch of ground vegetation and lifted a hatch to reveal a narrow set of stairs carved deep into the granite. A steel door sat at the end of the short passageway. The door looked like an entry into a bank vault. It had a huge dial on it with a combination lock. Hatchet swept the spider webs out of the way and went into the secret passageway. He spun the wheel, turned it to four distinct numbers, and popped the door open.

JT and Mort exchanged shocked glances. Mort put his gun away. Hatchet pulled the heavy steel door open. Inside was only blackness. Even the light from the open hatch above did little to penetrate the tunnel’s shadows.

Hatchet looked back at his two companions. “This is a decision point now, boys. Are we gonna trust each other? When I show you what’s down here, you’ll have all the resources you need to fund the takeover of the western region, or you can form your own motorcycle club with your own rules—but whatever you do, I want a place in the management structure. And I want a safety guarantee for the rest of my life.”

“Or we can just kill him now,” Mort said to JT as he glared at Hatchet.

“You could,” Hatchet agreed, “but I kid you not, you need a guide for what’s below.”

JT stayed silent while he considered his options. He gave Hatchet a measuring glance, then nodded. “Agreed. Let’s do this.”

“I’ll go in first,” Hatchet said. “Mort, pull that hatch closed behind you. And close the vault door, too.”

 
JT stepped close to peer down into the tunnel’s abyss. Mort did the same. They shined their flashlights along the fortified dirt walls, looking as deep into the darkness as the light allowed. Hatchet had done the same when he first found this opening. From where they stood, the far end of the tunnel was swallowed in shadows. Mort sent a worried look back at JT.
 

“You in, or are you out?” Hatchet asked.

“We’re in,” JT answered.

Hatchet went in about ten feet, then waited for Mort to close the vault door. The heavy steel door shut, sending an echo bouncing down the tunnel. About thirty feet in, there was another vault door. Hatchet turned the dial for the combination lock and pushed the door open.
 

“It’s like a mousetrap down here. Be careful where you walk. These old mining tunnels are filled with clutter, and this section is confusing.”

“These doors aren’t part of the original old tunnels,” Mort said.

“No. They’re a recent modification. You’ll see why in a minute.”

Hatchet walked confidently through the maze of tunnels. He took several twists and turns that weren’t needed simply to confuse the memories of the men he was leading. At last they reached a third vault door. Hatchet efficiently turned the dial through the combination and pushed it open.

“How many doors are there between us and the treasure you mentioned?” JT asked.

“This is the last before the treasure room itself.”

 
The tunnel they stepped into was unlike the ones they’d just passed through. The first maze of tunnels that Hatchet had led them through was rough, carved out of dirt and stone, braced with heavy wooden beams.

 
This tunnel was five times as large. They didn’t have to duck through any of it. Huge, tubular corrugated steel sections formed a concentric pattern of wide ribs. The tunnel smelled of rusting metal. The dark was absolute. Their flashlights showed the supports on each side of the tunnel walls where the raised walkways would have been. Now, there was just a steel framework that jutted out in odd ways at knee level. Somewhere down the tunnel, a persistent drip of water tapped an earthy rhythm.
 

Turning to the left, they reached another down shaft, this one with stairs. Beams and sheets of metal obscured what lay beneath. The guys shined their flashlights down the channel.
 

“We go down a level here, then go across the beams to the door on the other side. Stay on the beams themselves. There’s water down below, but you don’t want to go in it.”

On this door, the combination lock was inset and covered by a rusty, hinged flap. Hatchet lifted the flap and turned the dial to enter the combination. He pushed the door open. Stepping inside, he waited for the others to join him. Their flashlights danced around the wide concrete chamber like disco lights as they worked to keep their balance on the I-beams.
 

Finally, they stepped off the iron girders onto the floor of the tiny antechamber and then into the room he’d unlocked. What they saw inside robbed them of words. The room displayed none of the decay of the tunnel leading up to it. It was whitewashed in shiny white marine paint. Hatchet watched the shocked reactions of the two bikers as they flicked their lights around the room.

 
Stacked on the floor, several rows high, were bricks of gold bullion. Heavy steel shelving around the perimeter of the room organized various other bits of precious metals, some in jewelry, some in coins, some in smaller ingots.

Mort laughed and danced around, digging his hands through containers of gold. He shoved it into his pockets, spilling some on the floor.

“Hold up there, Mort.” JT looked at Hatchet. “What’s the catch?”

Hatchet shrugged. “Take what you want. It’s gonna be yours soon enough. That is, if you make it yours.”

“Who does this belong to now? King?

“Yeah. The silo complex belongs to him. So does the drug business run out of the compound.”

“So the trade doesn’t belong to WKB?”

“No. He pays the WKB a fee for its distribution services.”

“And the gold?”

“His customers pay in precious metals.”

“So who’s this ‘King’?” Mort asked JT.

“I don’t know. I’ve never met him. All I know is that he’s running the show here. Pete dances to his tune. With such absentee management, this is ripe for a hostile takeover.”

“So why don’t you take it and overthrow Pete?” JT asked.

“I don’t have the resources you have,” Hatchet told him. “King isn’t going to leave this exposure open for very long. Even now, he may know we’re in his treasure room. He knows things, and I have no goddamn idea how he can know them.”

JT and Mort sent a look around the room, checking for cameras. Hatchet had never been able to find any. “I thought the WKB ran Abdul Baseer al Jahni’s drug business for the club, not for some unknown third party.”

 
“Whoever runs the western region becomes the face for King’s business. He’s too invested in infrastructure here to ever let the ER have Abdul’s business—unless the ER also owns this.”

“So we not only have to capture the compound, we also have to terminate King,” JT observed.

“Take the silo, and you’ll have King by the balls.”

JT and Mort silently contemplated their options. They each picked up a handful of gold ingots. “For proof,” Mort said.

“So, you interested?” Hatchet asked.

“Oh yeah.” JT looked at Hatchet and grinned. “I’m going to need some time to organize some guys.”

Hatchet nodded. “Do it fast, ’cause like I said, this little window of opportunity won’t stay open long.”

* * *

Owl looked at Hawk as the three men disappeared into the hidden entrance. “What do we do?” he whispered.

“Go let Lion know Hatchet took two men into the back entrance to the tunnels. I’ll follow them and find out where they go.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Fiona, will you join me in the den for a few minutes?” Kelan asked after breakfast.

Her stomach flipped as she looked at him. “Sounds serious.”

“It is.”

“Sure.” They left the dining room and turned right down the hall. “Everything okay?” she asked when they got to the den.

Kelan shut the door behind them, then called up something on his phone. He clicked on some buttons she couldn’t see, then put his phone away and faced her. “Everything’s fine. I just want to talk about the coming school year.”

“Okay.”
 

He took her hand and led her over to the desk, which he leaned against as he faced her. “Is there any way I can convince you to sit this next year out?”

Fiona tried to read his expression, but his face was as closed as a slab of granite. “Is there a new danger?”

“Nothing has changed. The situation is neither improved nor worsened. I just don’t like you to be alone while so much is happening.”

She didn’t answer for a second as she weighed the impact of his request. “No, I’m not going to sit out the next year.”

“Then any chance I can get you to transfer to the University of Wyoming?”

“Kelan.” She frowned as she shook her head. “I’m halfway through my degree. I can’t take a setback like that. Who knows if they will accept all of my credits? I don’t even know if they have a degree program like mine.”

“UW is half the distance from here. If something happens, I could get to you faster.”

“It’s still an hour away. If something were to happen there, it would be over and done with long before you could even get there. No, Kelan. I’m staying at Colorado State.”

He sighed, then lifted his hand to touch his fingertips to her cheek. “You have your security necklace. It’ll work at CSU. If anything seems off, anything at all, hit the panic button.”

“I will.”

He lowered his hand to capture hers. “What about tuition, books, rent, food, gas, expenses? Do you have those covered?”

“My stepdad paid for my tuition. I have a fund he set up for my books and dorm rental. For the rest, I have a waitressing job.”

“I don’t want you to work.”

“Kelan, you can’t put me in a glass jar. I have to work.”

“You don’t have to work. I’ve opened an account for you. You can use it for anything you need. Food, clothes, gas, whatever.”

She shook her head. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” She squeezed his hands. “You forget I’ve spent a summer training with Angel.”

He pulled her closer, drawing her in between his opened legs. He touched her hair where it fell over her ears. “I wish I had an invisibility blanket you could wear so no one would see you.”

“You mean there’s something Greer and Max haven’t developed yet?”

He smiled, but it didn’t seem like a real smile. “I’ll call you every night. You can come home on weekends.”

She caught his wrists. “I’m not leaving for a few weeks.”

“I know. I just wanted to get this settled. Can you sneak away for the day? I have some surprises for you.”

She smiled. “I can. I’ll just let Mandy know so she can watch Zavi.”

“Do that. Then meet me out front.”

Ten minutes later, she rushed down the stairs and hurried out the front door. Kelan was there, standing in front of a new GMC Acadia in a dark metallic blue. He was smiling at her. She smiled back at him. “What’s this? You have a new SUV?”

“No. You have a new SUV.” He tossed her the keys.
 

She frowned. Her feet were frozen to the ground. Fighting a terrible urge to cry, she covered her mouth, but still couldn’t stop the tears from filling her eyes.
 

Kelan closed the distance between them in two steps. “That’s not the reaction I was expecting.”

“This is too much.”

“Do you like it?”

She nodded. “Very much.”

“Good. Then maybe you wouldn’t mind driving us down to Fort Collins for the next surprise?”

“What is it?”

“A surprise.”
 

She leaned in to Kelan, wrapping her arms around his waist. He returned her hug. “This is too much,” she repeated, mumbling into his chest.

“No, it isn’t. You don’t have a car. You need some way to come home to me on weekends. No excuses.”

She pulled back and looked up at him. She reached a hand around his neck and kissed him. He tightened his hold on her, returning her kiss with the same ardor.
 

“Thank you for the SUV, Kelan.”

“You’re welcome.”

Releasing him, Fiona ran around the front of the SUV and jumped into the driver’s seat. She played with the console, getting a feel for all the switches and gauges. She had to bring her seat forward about a foot; Kelan must have been the last to drive it.

“Ready?” she asked after buckling in.
 

He set his buckle, then faced forward and placed his hands in his lap, his fingers woven in a white-knuckled grip. He took a deep breath, then released it. “I’m ready.”

Fiona laughed. “Oh, stop. I’m a good driver.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Proceed.” He looked at her and asked, “Did I mention I have a robust insurance policy on this car?”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Kelan Shiozaki. If you’re so fearful of my driving, you can just stay here.”

He grinned. “I could. But then how would you find your surprise in Fort Collins?”

“Okay. That’s legit.”

They took the back way from Laramie to Fort Collins. It shortened the distance by a half-hour—and brought them into town at the north end. In Old Town, he had her turn right into an area mostly used by law offices, the big banks, and other professionals. A block off the main drag, he had her turn into an underground parking lot reserved for visitors and occupants of the building. He handed her an entry card at the gate. The heavy arm lifted. The spaces were all reserved and marked with four-digit numbers. He directed her to two marked “1001,” closest to the stairs and elevators.

It took her a couple of attempts to pull the Acadia into a single spot. She gritted her teeth, waiting for him to say something, which, fortunately, he didn’t. She handed him back the card, but he wouldn’t take it. “Hold on to it. You’re going to need it again in a bit.”

Kelan pressed the button for the ground floor. The doors opened onto an alcove of an elegant atrium finished in black and white marble. Fiona slipped her hand into Kelan’s as they made a circuit of an area filled with small shops, a delicatessen, a cheese emporium, a fruit and vegetable stand, a bookstore, a flower shop, a tea store, a coffee shop, a cigar seller, a chocolatier, and several restaurants featuring a variety of cuisines—Italian, French, Vietnamese, Chinese, a pizzeria, and a diner with American cuisine.