Behind the Lies (Montgomery Justice #2)(89)

Brad couldn’t hear or see a thing after the Montgomerys filtered through the trees. He tugged against the restraints. Damn them. They’d beat him. He had no more tricks. He peered through the front window, but he couldn’t see the house. Dark pressed in around the car. He hated the dark.

Bobby buried his face under his arms. He shook. Too quiet out there. Mommy wasn’t even crying now.

Quickly, he wiped his tears away. He couldn’t let Daddy see them.

The closet door slammed open. Bright light blinded him. He closed his eyes and shrank from the opening.

His father grabbed Bobby’s injured arm. He couldn’t stop the whimper.

“Weakling,” his father growled. “Get out here.”

His mother lay crumpled in the corner, unmoving.

“Mommy!”

“Leave her,” his father ordered. “We’re out of here.”

“But I have to help her,” Bobby pleaded.

His father backhanded his cheek. Bobby crashed to the ground.

His mother still didn’t move.

“You weren’t man enough to help her. Weak, pathetic little bastard. You’re probably not even mine. You don’t want to go? Fine. Stay in the dark.”

He kicked Bobby, then shoved him into the closet and slammed the door closed. The lock turned.

Through the cheap pine he thought he heard a very faint groan.

“Mommy!” Bobby banged on the door. “I’ll get out. I’ll help you.”

Brad stared in the darkness. He’d failed that day. Just like he’d failed his son.

A shadowy figure appeared at the door. He heard several clicks, then the car door swung open.

Theresa Banyon shook her head in disappointment. “Damn it, Walters. I set them up. Do I have to shoot them for you, too?”

Brad looked at the face of the woman who had pulled his strings the last few years. He recognized the cold eyes. She was a mirror of his soul. “I can turn this around, Theresa. I’ll finish the job for you. Just let me loose and give me time to get my son.”

“This is your last chance. Kill everyone else and you can take your brat and leave.”

He would kill everyone in that house if it meant having his son. “I’ll succeed this time. I’ll even finish Garrison off when I’m done.”

Theresa weighed a familiar and deadly device in her hand. Brad knew the weapon’s power—and its impact. The heat created from the unique explosion burned so hot, the trace evidence was useless, but just like its creator, the bomb was vicious and unpredictable. He’d used it in Stockholm, and the stupid thing had almost killed him.

Crap. She really had gone over the edge if she’d produced more of the unstable explosive.

She smiled. “I’m a forgiving woman.” She tugged out a knife and slid it into his palm, then stood back, a gun on him. “Consider this a life-or-death test, because if you fail again, you and your son die tonight.”

Brad would succeed. His father had been his first kill. Well, Sam would be his first save—the first time since his mother had died that he cared about someone besides himself.




Just outside the dilapidated building Zach and three of his brothers eased around the trees edging the property. Zach signaled to them. His brothers nodded, then Seth and Gabe headed around the corner toward the back entrance.

Seth stopped abruptly and pointed to a nearly invisible wire spread across the lawn.

Booby traps.

Great.

Zach communicated the information silently to Luke while Seth warned Gabe. He acknowledged the signal. They’d have to be very careful. No storming in. Farzam might be crazy wanting revenge, but he obviously wasn’t stupid.

They stepped carefully toward the front door. Zach eased around some misplaced dirt, then flicked a bit away.

A makeshift mine.

After uncovering yet another explosive device, Zach’s heart sped up. This was taking too long, but he couldn’t help Jenna and Sam if a terrorist bomb took out the rescue team.

A birdcall sounded from around back. Seth. Crazy guy had gotten where he could imitate almost any bird that existed.

Everyone was in place and ready.

Zach looked at Luke.

His brother met his gaze, calm, certain, and deadly. Zach held up his hand and counted down.

Five, four, three, two…

Go!

Zach shoved his good shoulder through the door. The wood exploded into the room. Seth and Gabe slammed through the back at the same time.

Farzam whirled around, momentarily stunned, his back to Jenna.

Zach didn’t hesitate. Thanks to the video, he and his brothers knew the layout of the room. He raced to a bruised and battered Jenna, gun raised. “Get down,” he yelled.

Simultaneously, his peripheral vision scanned the room. Where was Sam?

Her poor face screwed up in effort. Straining against the ropes binding her, Jenna rocked the chair, knocking Farzam off balance. The furniture tilted on two legs. Her shoulder slammed into the floor. The wood broke under the impact.

Farzam fell back and rolled to Jenna. Time slowed. He whipped the barrel of the submachine gun at Zach. Bullets thwacked against the wood, ripping through the walls. Zach leapt out of the way. Luke dove to the side. Seth and Gabe followed.

The bastard grabbed Jenna, shoving the broken chair aside, and used her as his shield. He scooted toward the corner.