Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(59)

Denver’s hand folded into a fist on his desk. “I hate this.”

“Me too,” Ryker said.

“We’d have to use safe house three,” Heath said.

Ryker nodded. “If we want her close, it has to be in Cisco.” They’d created three safe houses when they bought the current building just in case they needed to move and fast. “We can wire the place, so if anybody shows up, we can be there in ten minutes.”

Heath kicked his boots out and crossed his ankles. “If we go forward with this, there’s no going back. I don’t know where it’ll end, but right now we’re somewhat safe from the past. She is the past, men.”

“She’s the key,” Denver replied softly.

“I’m damn tired of playing defense. Let’s take control. Plus, she’s the only way to find these missing brothers of Greg’s,” Ryker said. If his brothers were missing, he’d be out of his damn mind. He had to help that kid find his family.

Heath shook his head. “Speaking of which, if Greg has brothers somewhere, why won’t he tell us where?”

“He said their school was blown up, and he has no clue where his brothers were relocated,” Ryker reminded him.

“The kid isn’t telling us the whole truth,” Heath countered.

Ryker nodded. “Would you tell us? I mean, if you were that kid, would you reveal all?”

“Shit no,” Heath said slowly. “He trusts like we do: not at all.”

“If I couldn’t find you guys, I’d be desperate,” Ryker said. “He is, and that’s why I trust him. He has to find those brothers the same way I’d need to find you guys. That’s the only reason he came to us—to anybody—for help: desperation.”

Greg appeared suddenly in the door. “I’m not desperate.”

Denver typed quickly on the keyboard, waited a minute, and then flipped the monitor around. “Here’s the depot in Utah that was blown up.” Scorched earth and shattered buildings littered the snowy ground. “How do you expect us to believe you?”

Greg swallowed and stepped inside the room. He paled, and a look way too stark to belong to a kid filled his eyes. “Scan to the north.”

Denver reached for the mouse and manipulated the screen beyond the buildings to a wide field. “Yeah?”

“Zoom in to the left.”

Denver did so, craning his neck to see around the monitor. “Okay.” He frowned. “What’s that?”

Greg paled. “That was my grave, man.”

Ryker jerked his head back and narrowed his gaze. A grave marker did line the area away from the downed fence. But. . .he looked closer and then whistled.

“Yeah,” Greg said. “It’s been dug up.”

“So you think your brothers are looking for you?” Heath asked.

Greg shook his head. “No. I set up several places on the Internet that they could find if they were looking, and only they could find those places on the dark web. They haven’t looked, so they don’t think I’m alive.”

“Why the hell would they move your grave, then?” Ryker asked.

“If they left the compound, if they found safety somehow, they’d take me with them.” Faith in his brothers colored Greg’s words.

Ryker fought a shiver. “True that,” he murmured.

“You think kids would’ve dug up and moved a coffin?” Heath asked.

“If it was you, I would’ve moved you even when we were kids,” Ryker said while Denver nodded, his gaze stark.

Heath pointed to the monitor. “We have an idea to bring Dr. Madison here. To fall into a trap of hers so she has to come calling. What do you think?”

Greg’s face lost all color. “Shit no, man. You don’t understand.” Panic swelled from the kid. “Madison won’t come. Soldiers—ones trained beyond what you could even imagine—will storm the entire town.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Ryker said, more than a little surprised by the panic. Nothing had seemed to get to this kid. “We won’t let anybody hurt you, Greg.”

Greg’s chin dropped. “Oh man. You have no fucking clue. Jesus.” He turned to go, and only Ryker’s hand on his arm stopped him. “I have to get out of here. This was a mistake.” His voice rose on the last in pure panic.

“Wait a minute—” Ryker started and stood up.

Greg swept out with his leg, catching Ryker in the knee. It buckled, and he went forward. Greg followed up with a cuff to the temple and turned to run.

Pain bloomed in Ryker’s head. He grabbed Greg by the leg, pulling him down. Greg fought hard, punching and kicking, using a combination of several martial arts moves as well as street moves. Ryker countered each one, his head ringing, his temper trying to spring free. He kept his moves to defense and held back from harming the boy.

Greg connected with a solid punch to Ryker’s mouth.

He growled and gripped the kid’s wrists, jerking him up and off his feet to plant him against the wall. “Knock it the fuck off,” he growled, his face in Greg’s.

Denver leaned against the door frame, and Heath had moved behind them to keep track.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” Greg hissed, struggling against Ryker’s hold.