Right Through Me (The Obsidian Files #1)(81)

“So you’re that kind of guy,” Noah said softly. “You toe the line. Take what you’re given.”

The other man gripped Caro tighter, making her catch her breath. “Right now, *, I have the gun, and you have jack shit. Tell me what’s in the f*cking safe.”

“Bearer bonds,” Noah said. “Eighty million bucks worth. Half are yours.”

“I don’t believe you,” the man hissed.

Noah smiled thinly. “That’s a forty million dollar payday. Why else would I be here?”

“You tell me.”

“To get rich. So how much did Mark pay you to pick up this chick? Fifteen thousand? Twenty thousand?”

“More than that.”

“Chump change,” Noah said. “You call that money?”

“Yeah. With benefits. Like this.” He squeezed Caro’s breast. She gasped sharply.

Noah’s hands clenched. “I need her alive and functional. She set the biometric parameters on the vault. Only her brainwaves can open it. The safe is programmed to destroy anything you try to extract by force. Kill her, and you kill the money.”

“Hmmm.” The thug ran a meaty, bloodcaked hand over Caro’s tangled hair, and cupped her head. “Brain waves, huh? You could just shave off all this pretty hair, stick on some electrodes. Record the brainwaves. Crack the safe with a playback. Beats hauling this whiny bitch around.” He yanked hard at her hair. “Then you’d look like me,” he crooned, licking her throat. “Only scared.”

The rage almost ran him over. Noah forced it down. He’d make that piece of shit pay in blood for every humiliation. Later. When Caro was safe.

“Won’t work,” he said. “The sensors pick up body heat, blood flow and electrical fields, all keyed to her. Not my preference. I like to eliminate all witnesses. But shit happened, and I had to improvise.”

“Big fail, f*ckface. Right now, everything belongs to me. The girl, the safe, the bonds. You.”

“Only until Mark Olund gets here,” Noah said. “I’m telling you I can help you flatten him like the piece of shit that he is. Then you and I get to split some serious money.”

The doubt on the guy’s face was reflected in the frantic fluctuations of color around his head.

“One thing at a time,” the guy said. “To start with, I want you restrained. You make me tense.” He extended a hand without taking his eyes off Noah, feeling around for a canvas bag next to the bed. He pulled out thick zip ties and put them in Caro’s hand. “First, take off your jacket and throw it toward me,” he said to Noah. “Then turn around. Kneel. Put your hands behind your back. She puts the cuffs on you. I hold the gun to her head while she does it. Then she cuffs your ankles. One wrong move and she dies. Bye bye brainwaves. You follow me?”

“Yes,” Caro said, when he prodded her with the gun barrel. “I hear you.”

Noah shrugged off his jacket and tossed it. It landed halfway between them. His smartphone slid out of the pocket and onto the floor.

“Turn around!” the man barked. “Get down! Cross your wrists and keep them crossed!”

Noah sank to his knees. Echolocation formed an exact picture of where Caro and her captor were in space, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. Caro was moving. A masculine grunt and a sharp hiss of pain showed that her captor was on his feet as well.

Muted sounds. Zip ties scattered on the floor. A thud of a gun butt connecting with Caro’s head again. A stifled grunt of pain.

He hung on to himself. Patience. Wait for it, goddamnit. Wait.

“Pick them up, you dumb cow, and don’t drop them again,” the guy snarled.

“You won’t have to split the take with anyone but me, once Mark is dead,” Noah said. “There’s no one else to pay off. No witnesses but me. And her,” he added, like an afterthought.

The other man hesitated. “What about my men?”

Noah shrugged.

“Shit!” He sounded irritated. “All of them?”

“You need a better crew,” Noah remarked.

“So do you. And why did you stash her in that flophouse dump if she’s the key to all that money?”

Noah stared straight ahead. “I was keeping an eye on her there. Neither one of us has a crew, but together we could take Mark. Are you in?”

There was a long silence as the man thought it over. “Ninety percent for me, ten for you,” he said slowly. “Since I’m the one holding the gun.”

“Get real,” Noah said. “Fifty-fifty. You can’t take down Olund without me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. That guy is one hard son of a bitch.”

“So am I. Just keep in mind that it’s him I want to kill and not you.” Noah eased around to look at him. “Just look outside, if you want proof. I’m good at killing.”

The thug was holding the gun to the back of Caro’s neck and clutching a bedpost with the other hand. He studied Noah through slitted eyes. “Who the f*ck are you, man?”

“Does it matter?”

“That’s not an answer. Tie him up.” He shoved Caro forward. “Move!”

She stumbled forward. He felt her cold fingers fumbling at his wrists, her hair swinging, brushing his forearms.