Drive (27 page)

A phone chimed across the room. One of the guards glanced at it. Though Aiden's focus was on Evers, he saw the man jerk.

“Boss,” he said.

“Not interested,” Evers replied, never taking his gaze off Aiden.

Another series of flashes made him tense. Whatever was going to happen was about to go down. Something moved on the other side of the frosted front doors.

“No, boss, look—”

A utility truck slammed through the front doors, shattering the glass. Aiden threw himself onto the ground, taking cover behind another sofa. The two Special Forces guards moved toward the danger, while Evers and the Colombians took cover out of line from the front door. The rear fenders of the truck were too wide to make it through the doorframe. It lurched to a stop, engine chugging, but no one in the driver's seat.

For a second, no one moved, not even Aiden. What the hell was that?

A red car streaked through the yard, a man hanging out of the passenger window with an automatic rifle. Gunfire broke the stillness as bullets peppered the glass. Little white circles spread where the bullets hit the glass—but did not break.

The Eleventh.

His crew knew the house was outfitted with bulletproof glass.

More cars drove across the lawn. People yelled from elsewhere in the house. Maybe the staff? The truck bobbed and moved a moment before two men stood up in the back of the bed, guns in hand.

The two Special Forces guards picked them off before the Eleventh guys got off a single shot.

Aiden glanced in the direction Pasha had taken Madison then to Michael Evers. This could be his chance to get Evers, but doing so would put Madison at risk.

Evers strode to the desk and unhooked his laptop. “Shoot anyone who comes through that door. Understand me?”

The Special Forces guards didn't move or acknowledge their order. Evers made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. His gaze fell on the two Colombians.

“Come on,” he said. His lip curled in contempt.

The Colombians drew their weapons, shoulders hunched, and followed their boss.

Any minute now the Eleventh would find an unlocked door, or another way in. The Special Forces guys were worth ten goons, but even they could be overwhelmed. This could turn into a bloodbath—and Aiden had no gun.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Evers strode down the same hall where Madison had gone earlier.

More shouting from the truck and bullets pelting the house drew the attention of Evers's security. They weren't paying attention to Aiden.

He army-crawled across the living room toward Dustin. A quick check of his pulse revealed he'd died, probably choking on his own blood. Aiden patted the man's pockets until he found a gun. The other guards were too busy to pay him any mind, so he rose to his feet and lunged down the hall.

From the sound of it, someone had moved up to take the place of the fallen street racer. The Eleventh was either about to establish themselves as a major player in the Miami drug scene, or be massacred. Either way, Aiden didn't want to be caught up in it.

That'
s why Raibel had been willing to take him at his word. It wasn't so much a belief in Aiden's bullshit, but more just an excuse to storm the old guard, as it were.

Only one winner would emerge from this kind of standoff. It'd be better if Raibel emerged the victor—and how fucked up was that thought?

Aiden rolled toward the hall, throwing his weight into the momentum. He pushed to his feet, keeping low, and grabbed the knife from his boot. He ducked down the hall. Bullets hit the side of the house, sounding almost like popcorn popping as it hit the reinforced walls.

Shutting out the sounds of gunfire and yelling was a difficult task, but Aiden needed to listen for Madison or Evers. Evers's men would kill Madison, given the opportunity. He clearly didn't care what his boss said in regard to her. All he saw was rage. Aiden's focus had to be getting her out alive, no matter that this was the closest he'd ever been to the criminal.

Aiden pushed the first door open, gun at the ready. The office was empty. The second was a cleaning closet. The third door was open. He could hear whimpering inside. When he caught Evers, it would take an act of God to keep from killing the son of a bitch.

He stepped into the doorway.

Madison sat in a corner, arms contorted behind her, knees drawn up to her chest. Hair had come loose from her bun and hung limp around her face. The Spetsnaz was nowhere to be seen. He rushed to her side, but pulled back from crushing her to him. They weren't out of the clear yet.

“You okay?” Aiden slashed the bonds holding Madison's ankles together and the makeshift gag.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded the moment it was out.

“Getting ice cream.”

“You aren't fucking funny.”

“Did you see which way Evers went?”

He yanked his phone out and hit dial.

“You alive?” Julian asked through the Bluetooth headset.

“Barely. What the hell is going on?” Aiden asked.

“He went that way.” Madison pointed down the hall.

“Eleventh showed up. They've got the place fucking surrounded. I wasn't aware they had assault rifles or anything like this gear. This is looking bad, man. How many people does Evers have in there?” Julian had that tone in his voice, the one that said he was ready for a fight.

“I'm not sure. There're four guards up front and one I can't account for.” Aiden crossed to the door and glanced back toward the living room.

“The four outside are dead. What about Dustin and Evers?”

“Dustin is dead. Evers, I'm going to find, but he's got a Russian super soldier with him.”

“Those aren't good odds. You need to get out of there now, man. We pulled back to the property line on the east side. Tori said to tell you sorry, but the Challenger's a goner.”

“Do I have an exit open?” Aiden could hear yelling from the front of the house, but no gunfire. He put his back against the wall and peered out of the door, glancing toward the front and the back.

“Not really. I mean, you could get out through the back—”

“I bet that's where they went. There's house staff I haven't seen.”

“Damn. If you could find away out, I'd get you. Don't know how, but I'd get you.”

Aiden grabbed a set of zip ties from the desk and shoved them into his pocket.

“I'm going to find Evers. If there's away out of here, he'll be using it. It was about money all along. Tell Emery he was right. Dustin drained Evers and they were in the hole. That's why the bitcoins were so important. Tell him.” In case Aiden couldn't.

He ended the call, his gaze on Madison.

She seemed to be on the verge of tears. “God, I hated him, but I'd never wish him dead.”

“I know, baby, I know. I need you to hold it together, okay?

“What are we looking for?” she asked.

“Evers. We follow him out of here, catch him if we can.”

Madison nodded, but she was still so pale and she swayed a bit.

“Come on. Stay close. Keep your head down.” He wanted to take care of Madison and look after her injuries—there wasn't time. If they didn't get out soon, they could be killed.

“What's going on?” She flinched as gunfire hit the house.

“I told the Eleventh that Dustin hit them, and now they're retaliating or maybe just hitting the old guard. It's a power-play move, regardless.” He peered down the hallway back toward the living room. There were a few bodies slumped over the top of the truck now.

“Why would you do that?”

“Diversion. Come on.” He took her hand and led her farther into the house.

A large kitchen spread out to their right, the dining room overlooking the ocean. The back doors were open. The cars couldn't drive over this part of the property because of the large rocks placed around the pool to shield it from neighbors. The gang's heavily modified cars simply didn't have enough lift to access this part of the property.

“Aiden!” Madison pointed at the beach, barely in their line of sight. Evers and three of his guards were making the jump from a dock to a small speedboat.

“Damn it.” Aiden strode toward the door, snatching his phone up. “Evers is getting in a boat. The speedboat, white, red stripe.” He didn't know if Emery had away to track the boat, but if there was one, the Walking Brain would have his back.

“Watch out.” Madison tugged him sideways. Two men crouched on the rocks, their attention on the house—not the boat and Evers's getaway.

They crouched behind the kitchen bar. Bullets hit the back windows.

It appeared he needed to use his distraction card—again. Aiden punched in the number he'd committed to memory that morning.

“There's going to be an explosion. I need you to run with me. Can you do that?” They'd have a narrow window of confusion while the remaining Evers security and the Eleventh sorted themselves out.

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“The docks.” If they could get into one of the boats, they could likely follow Evers wherever he was going. “Ready?”

He pressed dial and braced himself.

A breath later, a blast shook the house so hard even the bulletproof glass seemed to vibrate with the explosion.

Good-bye, Challenger.

“Come on.” Aiden grabbed Madison's hand, pulling her after him.

The two men who were on the rocks were nowhere to be seen.

It was a thirty-yard dash to the docks down a flagstone path bordered by shrubs and flowers. Tire tread showed where at least one vehicle had swerved this far back.

An engine revved, coming closer.

“Faster,” he shouted over his shoulder.

They reached the dock, bullets hitting the ground where their feet had been. Aiden vaulted over the metal railing onto a small yacht. Madison jumped aboard and he pushed her ahead of him up into the cockpit.

“Keys!” Madison patted the dash and glanced around.

“Forget it.” Aiden stared at the fuel levels. “It's not going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” She whirled to face him, her gaze a little wild, knife still in her hand.

“There's no fuel.” He ducked his head and peered out of the tinted windows at the two men getting out of their cars. First, he had to get them out of there. Then, he could worry about what came next. This was a clusterfuck of epic proportions. “Stay here.”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting us out of here.”

It wasn't going to be a fair fight. The Eleventh was a gang. Guys who had no training, no knowledge of what they were doing and probably hadn't considered that their actions meant they could die. In comparison, Aiden couldn't count the number of people whose blood stained his hands. When it came down to Madison's life or theirs, Aiden would choose Madison.

The stairs to the deck were vulnerable, but once he hit the deck there was a bar that could provide cover from the land. It was a matter of how fast he could act.

“When I tell you, follow me, okay?” Aiden inhaled and drew upon the years spent as a soldier. It might not be a dusty Middle East village, but it was a war.

He bent, reaching as far down the rails as he could before swinging forward and letting himself drop to the deck in a crouch. The sound of men yelling in Spanish reached him. Footsteps hit the wooden dock.

Aiden rose slightly, keeping low, and aimed at the nearest gang member.

Them. Or Madison.

He squeezed the trigger and swung his gun toward the second before the first hit the ground. The second man held an assault rifle, his arms thrown out, center mass exposed. Aiden squeezed off two shots.

Killing never got easier. Especially when it was something this stupid. Drugs weren't worth dying over.

“Madison, come on,” he shouted over his shoulder.

Would she come? Would she follow a man she now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt killed?

He jogged to the first body, but didn't pause to check for a pulse. The bullet through the cranial cavity made that unnecessary. The second had already drawn his last breath.

Aiden glanced back, dreading the prospect of having to force Madison from the boat. Instead, she edged past the first body, hand over her mouth. Of course he'd shocked her. He hated it, but it was the reality of his life.

He jogged to the Mazda Miata SSM two-seater idling closest to the docks and got in. The driver wouldn't be needing it anymore. Madison was only a few seconds behind him.

“Uh.” She stared at the passenger side. The seat had been removed to make room for more NOS tanks.

“Get in.” He shifted into drive.

“Okay, okay.” She plopped down on top of the tanks, one hand braced on the dash, the other on his seat.

He pressed the accelerator, hating the high-pitched whine of the muffler as they built up speed. Madison bounced as they went over the uneven turf. They sailed past the other cars, who took them for their crew member. The debris of the Challenger was spread out in front of the house, one palm tree was pretty damaged and so was the front of the house. But, it had bought them time.

“Call Emery,” Aiden said. They hit the street and he straightened the car out.

Madison almost slid into his lap, but held on tight to her handholds. There was only one way out of the community, and he needed to get there fast. The cops would be here any minute, and once they were on the scene there wouldn't be any getting out.

“I've got him,” Emery said without preamble.

“Where?”

“I think he's headed to his accountant's house. The guy has water access and is only two miles away by water. He should be there any minute.”

“What about the others?”

“Julian is behind you. Tori and John should be halfway there by now.”

“Any chance Evers is going somewhere else?”

“There's no guarantee. It's just a guess.”

“Address?” Aiden took a right out of the community and didn't slow his acceleration. The back of the car whipped around and the tires skidded. Madison almost slid straight into his lap.

“Texting now.”

Aiden jabbed his Bluetooth, ending the call.

“Madison, get my phone. Right pocket. Call Detective Smith.”

“What?”

“Just do it. And turn the navigation on.”

She gripped the side of his seat. He lifted his ass enough for her to wiggle her hand into his pocket and pull out the slim phone. Without prompting, she tapped at the screen.

“Got it. Navigation?” She slid to the right and he swerved around a minivan.

“Yeah.”

The disembodied voice of the navigation spoke into his ear, guiding him to their potential destination. If Evers went to the accountant, it wouldn't be for long. Maybe to pick up some crucial information and get a ride out of town. They'd have a short window.

“There. That should be Matt.”

“Detective Smith,” Matt drawled into the line.

“Smith, it's Aiden DeHart. If you want to arrest Michael Evers, do not hang up.” If the FBI wasn't going to back them up, he'd at least use the police to do what they wouldn't. Legally, only Julian, Emery, CJ, and Kathy could make arrests since they were FBI agents.

“What? I'm heading to Evers's house now. What are you talking about, DeHart?”

“He's not there. I'm texting you an address. Be there. With backup.”

“How do I know you're telling me the truth?”

“We've both been screwed over. I'm trying to make it right.” He nodded at the phone. “Text him.”

Silence met him on the line.

“Smith?”

“I'll be there. If you're lying to me—”

“I'm not.”

The call ended. He'd have to trust the detective would show up or they'd be cruising with their asses out the window.