Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)(86)

Max and Cole cursed over the earpieces.

“I’m going in with you,” James said through the earpiece.

“No. We stick to the plan.” They were going to fly drones to set off motion detectors while Jack sneaked inside and got Elle out. All the guest rooms in that old Victorian house were upstairs, on the east wing. There was a basement and other bedrooms on the main floor, but Jack knew Exxum; he had an ego the size of Alaska and he considered himself a gentleman. Elle would be in the poshest bedroom, with the best view. “You are my backup. I need you out here when the shit hits the fan. Use flash grenades to cover our escape. And avoid opening fire if it can be helped. Everyone in position?”

“Just for the record,” Cole stated, “we have a Hollywood punk flying drones in the middle of the forest to set off the motion detectors and distract the guards while our best sniper sneaks in to plant explosives and save the girl, and the explosives expert stays behind covering his back with a sniper rifle. Does anyone else see a slight problem with this plan?”

Jack heard James and Max softly chuckling.

“We are about to assault the private property of one of the Forbes richest,” Cole continued. “I hope Max’s grandmother-in-law has a good lawyer.”

“You can all go back home,” Jack grunted.

Cole’s dry snort came loud and clear from the earpiece. “Don’t give us shit. What we should do is all go in with you.”

“No.”

“T-1000 wants to go in alone,” James said.

That was right. He was not risking the Bowens more than he already had. He didn’t want them in that house. Heck, he didn’t want them anywhere in the vicinity.

They were outnumbered and outgunned. About to engage in a nonsanctioned, very illegal operation against an apparently outstanding citizen. Jack couldn’t care less about the consequences he would face afterward, should he manage to live though this, but he cared about Elle and he cared about the Bowens.

Contacting the cops and waiting for them was not an option. As soon as Maldonado saw the authorities coming, he’d dispose of Elle. If the police were called once they had opened fire, the Bowens could be charged with trespassing on private property and committing God only knew how many felonies; but they hadn’t agreed to stay behind and he couldn’t get Elle out alone.

A second after the motion detectors went off, Jack breached the perimeter and disappeared into the dark. Showtime.



Elle paced up and down in the room, from one end to the other, furiously trying to come up with a plan that would involve getting out of there alive and in one piece, preferably before irreparable emotional damage occurred. Or the involuntary donation of several of her organs, whichever came first.

She had no way to tell time, but the sun had set since Maldonado and Exxum had left several hours ago, locked her in, and posted two guards by her door. She’d heard them talk, joke even. They spoke Spanish, so she didn’t understand them. Not sure that was a good or a bad thing; she was already scared enough about what was to come.

Elle had no illusions about her chances of making it out of there alive. Giving them Jack’s identity was not an option, not that it would save her either. And no way in hell was she turning Jack over, which would lead them to Ronnie too. No, she had to get out of there. Whatever these guys had in store for her, she didn’t doubt they could break her.

She was by the bathroom wearing a groove in the floor, when an old iron on the shelf caught her attention. Maybe she’d take Exxum up on his idea to get a bath. She turned the sink faucet on full force, then leaned over the tub and did the same.

Taking on two trained guards was out of the question, but maybe she could level the field a bit. Get an edge. She had water and she had electricity; she should be able to electrocute them, right?

As the sink and the tub overflowed with water, she grabbed the appliance and broke the plastic casing, exposing the wires inside, then plugged it in and climbed onto the toilet seat, hoping the wiring at the house was old enough and that the automatic cutoff wouldn’t be triggered.

Leave it to her to get kidnapped in the most impractical outfit. Her heels were a huge liability; she could trip and fall face-first into the water and electrocute herself. The dress was restraining and too frigging long, so she reached down and, ripping at the seam, tore off a length of fabric. Then she took off the shoes, and thought twice about tossing them, opting to keep them. If the electricity didn’t do enough damage, she could stab them with the heels.

The water was already well on its way into the bedroom, soaking everything in its path. She turned on the iron and, standing on the toilet seat, waited. From up there, she couldn’t see the front door, but she could hear if it opened. That would have to suffice; she’d wait three seconds and then drop the device into the tub and hope she didn’t lose her equilibrium and fall in too. On the plus side, that would save her from the bleak future Maldonado had painted for her.

After a while she heard the door being unlocked and her breath caught. Showtime. Ears madly roaring, she counted while hearing the splashing sounds of steps in water, and then she let the electrical device drop into the tub, praying to all the gods she knew that the material the toilet seat was made from was not a conductor.

She closed her eyes tight and waited for what felt like an eternity before unplugging the iron. A burning smell reached her. Not a single sound was coming from the other room; the guards must have been down, and she had to hurry or the water would reach the stairs and start dripping, alerting somebody. Somebody she couldn’t electrocute again because the iron was broken and this kind of dumb luck only worked once in a lifetime.