Stinger (A Sign of Love Novel)

The guard closest to the door turned to us, raising his gun, but Leland moved on him and had him in a choke hold, his weapon skittering across the floor, before the other two men in the room had even fully turned around. He might not be able to run as fast as he used to, but Leland McManus was still a badass.

Josh scooped up the guard's gun, stuck it in the back of his pants and, with one swift movement, brought his knee up and made contact with the other guard, just starting to stand. He fell to the floor, unconscious.

I went for the third man who I recognized immediately by the pictures I had seen. Bakos. He was backing up across the room, going for something in the waistband of his own pants. I rushed at him and spun him around, removing the gun from his waistband and taking him in a chokehold as I held my own weapon to his side. He grunted as I pushed it into his soft flesh.

"Jesus. That was almost too easy," Josh said, not even breathing hard.

"I don't think you need to take the Lord's name in vain on his birthday," Leland offered.

Josh halted as he went toward the guard lying unconscious on the floor. "I wasn't taking the Lord's name in vain. I was praising him. Let me rephrase. Thank you, Jesus, for making that so easy!" he said, raising his arms to the sky.

I rolled my eyes. "Hey guys, can we focus here?" I asked. "We need to separate them." I gestured to the two guards and Bakos.

Leland said, "I'm going to tie these jokers up in the room next door and make sure they don't move.

I nodded and stood up straight. Bakos was fully restrained. I did one more quick pat down of his legs for weapons and sat on the edge of the one table in the room.

"Can we cut that shit off?" Josh asked indicating the music. Bing Crosby was crooning about a White Christmas from an iPod on a shelf in the corner.

I walked over and turned it off as Leland dragged the second guard out of the room, his limp just slightly more exaggerated under the guard's weight.

I gestured to the half—empty liquor bottle sitting next to three shot glasses. "That's one of the reasons, taking them down was like a cake walk," I said to Josh, shaking my head.

Josh turned to Bakos. "I'm disappointed, old man. I expected more."

Bakos narrowed his eyes, looking at Josh with disgust.

Josh now sat down on the edge of the table where I had been a minute before, pausing as he studied the fat man with the graying mustache tied to a chair in front of him. "So Bakos, turns out this probably won't be a very Merry Christmas for you. In fact, it's probably gonna be real shitty," Josh said, a bored expression on his face.

Bakos remained silent, his eyes moving back and forth between us.

"Here's how it's gonna go, jackass. I'm gonna press record on this little device here and you're going to tell the story about framing me for a murder that I didn't commit."

Bakos laughed. "Why would I do that?" he asked. "I won't talk. I'd rather die knowing you'll spend the rest of your life in prison for trying to ruin my business."

"Your business?" Josh asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, my business. Where there is money, there is business."

"You're a piece of human garbage, you know–"

"Josh," I warned, "don't waste your breath on him. Let's just get what we need."

Josh looked back at Bakos, studying him. "We didn't figure you'd talk to save your own sorry ass, but maybe this will convince you," Josh said, taking his cell phone out of his pocket.

Come on Dylan, I thought. If he had been successful, there'd be a video streaming to Josh's phone right now.

He held it up in front of Bakos. Bakos' face paled.

And I knew we had been right. Even a sick fuck like Bakos, who sold human beings for a living, would try to protect his own family. We were bluffing, but by the look on his face, it was working. And in that moment, I knew that we had won.

Josh continued, "Recognize her? Cute, isn't she? See that little red dot that moves wherever she does? That's our sniper's gun. Start talking or he takes her out right now. The guard you have posted in the next room won't even be able to blink before we take them all out."

Bakos narrowed his eyes, a look of hatred on his face. Josh clicked on the tape recorder and after a long pause, Bakos started talking.

"I was in that old warehouse the night you came in. My men and I were going over plans to ship the merchandise out in the morning. While you were taking my guards down, I was able to make it to a hidden room with a trap door I had installed, with one of the girls as a hostage. The bitch cried and I heard you coming toward the room, so I watched out the peephole until you turned around, and then I opened it and hit you over the head with a rock I found on the floor. Simple. I dragged you inside, gagged the girl and waited until your men left. Then I executed the bitch with your gun, put some of her blood on your clothes, and left the rock in her hand. I dropped you off in an abandoned house. Easy. I barely broke a sweat." Bakos went silent, glaring at us.

Josh clicked off the recorder, his eyes never moving from Bakos. He sent the file to Dylan, and his phone dinged a second later saying Dylan had gotten it and that the file was good.

None of us moved as Josh watched Bakos, a storm of disgust moving through his eyes. I glanced down to his hand and I saw it fist, but I didn't stop him. Josh moved forward like lightening and punched him in the face, Bakos' head whipping back, and blood flying out his nose. His head lolled on his neck–he was out cold.

Josh turned around, his jaw clenching as he shook his hand out. "Holy shit. Hidden rooms with trap doors? He got me with some Scooby Doo shit." He ran his hand through his hair, letting out a small, humorless laugh.

I shook my head. I was sure he was affected by hearing how the girl we had come to rescue, had ended up shot in the head. So was I. I clapped him lightly on his shoulder. "Let's go, Shaggy. I believe we have a delivery for the head prosecutor on your case. Call the police and give 'em the address where they can find this waste of space." I indicated my head back towards a now unmoving Bakos. "Let's move," I said quietly.

Ten minutes later, we were pulling around the corner as we heard the sirens moving in the direction of the warehouse.





CHAPTER 36


Two weeks later



Grace

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