Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
He located the lock in the carvings along the wall. Keys came up behind him just as he was trying Azelie’s chip and prints. He did so smoothly, as if just by believing, the chip would work—and it did. Billows hadn’t gone to the trouble of removing Azelie’s prints and key from the lock. He’d just used the same one.
“He has all this elaborate security, and yet he reused the same door lock,” Keys muttered. “Sometimes people make no sense to me, Maestro. None at all.”
“It goes with Billows’ personality. He believes he’s too intelligent for anyone to catch him. Ego tends to be the downfall of men like him. His device is so secret he doesn’t need more than one.”
The door opened silently. Maestro peered into the darkened corridor. This hall was much wider than the one they had followed to get to the door. Reluctantly, he stepped back to allow Keys to precede him.
We’re in, he reported to Steele. They had the small radio earpieces in their ears, but because they had been unable to get audio when they were following Azelie’s progress into the underground rooms, they thought it would be better to try to communicate using telepathy. Some were better at it than others, and distance could screw things up. The radios were for backup if telepathy didn’t work.
Steele responded, It’s quiet out here so far, but clock is ticking.
Maestro knew they were taking a little longer than anticipated, searching for bombs beneath the floor and in the walls. They couldn’t afford to take any chances, especially if women were being held captive.
The corridor had several doors leading to rooms. One was slightly open. No light shone through and there was no sound. Maestro stepped to one side and pushed the door open another two inches with one finger. The scent of blood hit him. He was very familiar with the smell. The fact that there were no lights and there was the scent of blood didn’t have him jumping to the conclusion that the room was empty. That kind of thinking only got a person dead. They could have accidentally tripped a silent alarm they knew nothing about.
He slid into the room without disturbing the door further. It wasn’t as easy as he would have liked. His chest slid across the door frame, a whisper of sound, but that was enough to get one killed. He had too much muscle for tight places. He naturally put on muscle. That sounded good, but in his profession, it wasn’t always a good thing.
“It’s Andrew McGrady,” he told Keys. “He died hard. They didn’t just execute him. Billows was pissed as hell over the attention he brought to Azelie. He doesn’t want the cops anywhere near her.”
Seeing McGrady’s dead body worried him for Azelie’s safety. Billows easily could decide the job she did wasn’t worth the risk to him. She knew more about his finances than anyone else. She had to know the names of his colleagues. Torpedo Ink had already discussed the best way to go about debriefing her, trying to learn other names that would lead to the heads of the trafficking ring.
Steele, is Rock watching over Azelie? Rock—Fatei Molchalin—hadn’t gone to the same school as the founding members of Torpedo Ink. He’d attended the school Gavriil had gone to. He had come to Torpedo Ink as a prospect, willing to put in the time and effort so the members would know he could be counted on. That he was loyal and always had their backs. Once made a full-fledged member, he had continued to prove to them he believed in their causes. They had voted to take him along on team two, Steele’s team. For now, they used him mainly as a guard. He hadn’t trained with them, and when the members of the team worked, they were a smooth-oiled machine. Having anyone new could throw them off their game.
She’s still in her apartment. No one has come near the building other than the normal tenants, Steele replied. Rock won’t let you down.
Maestro knew he wouldn’t, it was just that he would have preferred his woman to be in Caspar, at the clubhouse or at Czar’s home, where she could be under guard, eyes on her directly, not just her apartment building. He’d prefer her to be anywhere but in San Francisco. Billows didn’t know him or the members of Torpedo Ink. He had no idea they were hunting him. He did know Azelie. Billows had associates and men loyal to him. If he suspected he was in jeopardy, he would get rid of any threats to him.
Maestro continued down the hall, trailing his palm just above each door as they passed it. The rooms were empty until he came to the fifth door. He signaled to Keys, who was going down the hall checking the doors on the opposite side. Keys took his place in front of the door, lifting both palms toward the entrance. He had a gift for seeing through walls. Maybe not actually seeing, but he had developed senses, whether he saw heat imaging or just felt the presence of others. However that gift worked, he could tell how many enemies were in another room and their exact location. He hadn’t failed since he’d become a teen.