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)
“You weren’t exactly running your hands over the wall,” Keys pointed out. “We didn’t have time, and we were ensuring no one could see us.”
Wood spoke to him in ways he didn’t understand. It always had. He touched it for any length of time and memories crowded in. Emotions long lost after others had touched the wood or worked with it. He saw and felt things others had no possibility of seeing. It was a strange gift to have, and one he was thankful for. Trees could be extremely old. Patient. Serene. Strong. They stood against vicious storms and sometimes endured fire, drought or flooding and survived.
Over the years, Maestro had learned a lot from wood he’d come into contact with. But there was always a downside with any gift. Sometimes it was seeing all the ugliness the trees had witnessed or the pain of the saws cutting through them. Sometimes the drawback was extremely simple, such as having to have his hands bare when he touched the surface. That meant fingerprints. DNA. His cells left behind.
When Torpedo Ink was on a mission that would likely include blood, violence and death, they always wore thin gloves. The gloves were really just a thin coating of barrier cream covering skin, impossible to detect. The fingerprints were not their own.
“She didn’t unlock the outer door with a key. She used that same keypad we used to break in,” Preacher pointed out.
“The fact that Billows has a guard sitting right in the hall entrance speaks volumes,” Czar said. “You were in the right place.”
The club members were gathered in the Airbnb they’d rented in preparation for raiding the nightclub to find the victims sent to Billows for training. They were certain the women would be held there if Billows had any victims at the time, but they had no blueprints to show them the underground offices. That was unusual. As a rule, Code was unstoppable with his computer. He was patient and meticulous and persevered until he got results. He hadn’t found the blueprints of the underground offices. They knew there were rooms below the two floors housing the Pleasure Train and the Adventure Club, but they had been unable to get inside them.
Code had managed to find Billows’ illegal accounts, powering through the layers of companies and diversions to find what they needed. He’d drained those accounts, making Torpedo Ink much wealthier. It was standard when they went after criminals to take their money. That enabled them to divert attention, so they had more of a cover when they physically went after their targets. It also ensured they had whatever funds they needed in their fight to stop human trafficking and pedophiles.
“Look at that guard,” Ice pointed out. “He can’t read her at all. She’s all smiles and politeness, but that’s the last place she wants to be.”
Maestro agreed. “She’s guarding what she says.”
The audio was astonishingly good. Azelie spoke in a low tone, but they could hear her clearly. They heard the guard warning her that her boss was in a lousy mood.
“Notice how carefully she chooses her words when she answers him. She doesn’t trust that man,” Lana said.
“Her brother-in-law got her involved when she was sixteen,” Maestro added.
“Once in, she isn’t getting out unless they kill her,” Master said. “Not with what she knows.”
“It’s clear she’s very aware she’s walking a tightrope,” Alena added. “She must be living under so much stress every single day.”
“He’s got eyes on her,” Storm reported. “Not all the time, but one of his men sits outside her apartment and follows her to the park occasionally.”
“Man by the name of Andrew McGrady,” Code chimed in. “He’s a real peach. Domestic violence charges with nearly every girlfriend. Bar fights. Breaking and entering. He’s got a rap sheet the size of Texas.”
Maestro had clocked the man the first day he began following Azelie, but Billows’ investigator was lousy at his job. Most of the time he was looking at his phone, not paying attention to his surroundings. Maestro hadn’t once been seen by him. He’d even walked next to the parked car. Maestro was a man people noticed, yet the investigator had been playing a video game on his phone and hadn’t even looked up.
“I could have killed him multiple times,” Maestro pointed out.
“Same here,” Storm agreed. “He doesn’t bother following her most of the time. I think he’s bored out of his mind.”
“Good for us, bad for him,” Mechanic said. “Although it’s a pain in the ass having to keep a lookout for him.”
“When we move, he’ll be the first to go,” Storm said.
Maestro shook his head. “The goal is to keep Azelie safe while we’re getting those women out and getting information from Billows. We can’t risk tipping him off.” He looked directly at Czar. “Maybe coming clean with her and asking her outright for her key and a map of the underground is the way to go. We could move her to a safe house until it’s over.”