OoO (Josie) OoO
"I thought you said he was here," I growled slamming my hired gun, Luke, into the side of the SUV.
"H-he was," said Luke.
"Then where the fuck is he?"
"I-I."
"Don't...Just...just stay here and keep watch."
I shoved Luke into the vehicle one last time before storming off back to Milo waiting in solid black SUV nearby. I slammed the door shut and glared out the windshield.
*ahem* "Uh where to," asked Milo timidly.
"Call the other teams or Joe and get the addresses. Looks like we're hunting down Vadas," I said through clenched teeth.
Ten minutes later we were park two blocks down from a rundown apartment building scouting out an apartment window on the fourth floor. Light shown through a broken blind and two shadows passed by periodically. From our position neither figure seem to match Vadas.
"So what do you think," asked Milo.
*sigh* "Looks like a bust to me," I said.
"Yeah...me too. Next location?"
"Let's send one of the guys up to check."
Milo sent a text to the vehicle down the street and moments later one of my men stepped out and entered the building. We could tell when he reached the door because the shadows dispersed quickly. Moments passed and just shy of concerning my guy reappeared in the main doorway. He looked in our direction and gave his head a shake before climbing back into the car. 'Shit.' Milo pulled away from the curb in route to the next place.
"I'm going to kill this idiot twice for putting us on this fucking chase," I grumbled as I double checked my 9mm magazine.
Milo gave a bark of laughter, "whatever you feel is necessary darling."
I reluctantly smiled too, "ok maybe that's a little excessive."
"Just a little," Milo smirked gesturing with his hand.
Minutes later we rolled into a middle class neighborhood lined with average rowhouses. Each house was identical in structure but varied in color. Front yards were postage stamp and lacking vegetation from the seasonal change. We parked at least he edge of a salmon pink and lavender trim house. A silver Mercedes was parked in the single car drive.
"Someone should fire their decorator," voiced Milo grimacing at the train wreck paint job.
"Mhm," I agreed watching the house.
The shades were open in the front window and light poured out onto the yard.
"The Mercedes looks promising," said Milo.
"Sure does," I said texting the car parked across from the house.
They had perfect visual into the window. Seconds later my phone illuminated with a response.
"Looks like we have a green light. Car showed up about 30 minutes ago. Driver matches Vadas' description," I said.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached for my shoulder holster from the backseat and Milo's belt holster. We strapped on our sidearms and headed for the SUV across the road. I sided up to the passenger side and peered through the front window. Living room broke way to a small dining room with the kitchen connected. The back door was in view. The door opened and in walked Vadas. Most likely back from taking out the trash.
"A'right you two take the back and Milo and I take the front," I said.
All three men nodded and we strode over to the house. Milo and I hung back on the sidewalk waiting for the other two to get into position. When we saw their figures pass by the back window we moved in.
"Are you picking the lock or we kicking in the door," Milo asked whispering in my ear.
"I'll pick the lock. Less noticeable. Keep your eye on Vadas."
Seconds later I had the door unlocked. Milo signaled our guys with a countdown from 5. At the count of 1 we rushed in taking the dope by surprise.
"This is who's trying to take over," asked one of my men looking at Vadas incredulously, "it's just a kid."
Vadas is the poster child for spoiled brat. He's at the most 23 years old, pudgy poser in baggy pants and a sideways cap. All clothes were top of the line designer. Bulky pearl handled glock sticking out the waistband of his boxers. His shoes most likely cost more then the rent on his rowhouse.
"Yo dog who the fuck you think you are," Vadas asked.
"Well...dog. I'm the wrong person to be fucking with for one," I said stepping forward.
"Why does this cunt talk? I won't speak to cunts. They're place is gagged and on their knees," Vadas sneered.
Milo and the guys sucked in air.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't talk to cunts."
My eyes narrowed and my jaw clenched. You can call women many things but cunt goes too far. I threw my knife, impailing it in the wall next to Vadas' head. Knocking his hat off in the process. I stormed over to where Vadas sat on the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table. Kicking his legs off I perched in front of him. Vadas went rigid and wide eyed. His breathing quickened drastically.
"You care to run that by me again," I asked.
"W-who a-are you," he stuttered.
"You've killed one of my men and injured others. I'm your ticket to a shallow grave punk."
"Y-you can't do that. M-my family will come after you."
"Ha. You think so?"
"M-my grandfather is a powerful man. He won't stand for this."
"You're not as golden as you think gom. Dear ol' grandad is washing his hands your slackard ass."
"Y-you don't know that."
"Oh but I do."
I opened my phone replayed the video clip from my call. Vadas slack jawed and the color drained from his face.
"You should feel honored," I said.
"W-why is that?"
"I've been in this business a long time muppet. Before I'd kill you and send your body parts to your family with no hesitation. At least this time I tried to warn them. Guess companion comes with age, go figure...So tell me Ashtoff," I said leaning forward to retrieve my knife, "which body part shall we send your mother?"
OoO (Riker) OoO
"That show was awesome," mused Ratliff.
It's about midnight and we just made our way off the stage. The high from the concert's adrenaline was permeating off of us. I stripped of my sweat soaked shirt and tossed it into a dirty clothes bag.
"I will never get tired of the rush," said Ross.
"We heading out for a midnight stroll back to the hotel," asked Rocky.
Everyone agreed and separated to change into dry clothes.
Twenty minutes later we were walking down the sidewalk. Our footsteps echoing between the buildings. Ross was busy snapping photos. Rocky was walking up behind everyone tripping them up as they walked. Rydel and Ellington were doing their couples thing and I wasn't sure what Ryland was up to. I updated the band Twitter account before checking for anything from Milo.
"So Riker," said Rocky draping an arm around my shoulders.
"What Rocky," I asked.
"When do you see your girl?"
"Milo said he'd be at the hotel in the morning."
"Does that mean you won't be flying back with us?"
"I have no idea. She doesn't even know I'm here. I haven't heard from her since Friday morning and never had a chance to tell her where we were."
"Ah. So there's a possibility she could throw your ass out for showing up huh?"
"Eh. Milo said she'd probably shoot him before that happened."
"Well...ok then."
"How come she's been so sketchy. I mean she's always been pretty sketchy but this seems extreme," said Ryland joining our conversation.
"I'm not sure honestly. Milo mentioned things being tense. Guess it still has to do with the whole car bomb thing."
"Whoa. Hey look at this," said Ross.
He was standing in front of a newspaper kiosk thing.
"Yeah they still make the paper Ross," teased Ratliff.
Ross rolled his eyes, "no shit. I was meaning the front page story on the paper smartass. Anyone have change?"
We all gathered around the metal box peering down at the glass display. The front page article was talking about an ongoing investigation of random acts of killings targeted towards the Hungarian population. The reporter quoted rumors of the killings being linked to co-leader of the local Irish mob Mac Tíre. Officials had pegged one Annika Hagen as a person of interest. I felt my heart constrict. 'The hell did she get into?' Ross scrounged up the change need to buy a paper from the others and opened the paper to the continuation for the article.
"Reports of a hostile turf war between Mac Tíre and an unknown group rumored to be of Hungarian affiliation surfaced earlier this month. Officials had been quietly monitoring the development until a mass murder of 20 Hungarians was discovered last week. An eye witness claimed seeing a female gunman matching Hagen's description fleeing the scene early Saturday morning. Police stated Hagen is merely a person of interest at this time and they're looking into other possible leads as well," relayed Ross.
Everyone was studying me. My head spun with the new information. My throat felt like I gargled sand.
"She's just a suspect. Innocent until proven guilty right," encouraged Rydel.
"Right. Besides we all know Ann is more than capable of being completely undetectable," added Ratliff.
"C'mon," said Rocky patting my back, "you'll get your answers tomorrow."
"Yeah...tomorrow," I mumbled following the others as we continued to the hotel.
OoO (6:00am) OoO
I was jolted awake by my phone blaring next to my ear. Blurry eyed and groggy and slapped at the phone cursing it's existence. On the last ring I managed to retrieve and answer it.
"Hello," I rasped out.
"Rise and shine Blondie," greeted Milo, "I'm in the lobby you have 10 minutes." *click*
I stared down at my phone confused until the haze of sleep dissipated and I remembered what I was doing this morning. I fell out of bed scrambling to get ready. I showered blindly pulled on clothes not even bother to check if they were on correctly. I grabbed my phone and scooped up my discarded chucks and ran towards the elevator in socks and undone jeans. I slammed the button with my elbow as I tried to button and zip my pants. When the doors opened I rushed in pushed the ground floor button and leaned against the wall trying to pull on my shoes.
By the time the elevator reached the bottom floor I was more or less dressed and publicly presentable. I glanced in the reflection of the door and grimaced. I looked like I dressed in the dark. Hair askewed, toothpaste crusted at the side of my mouth, t shirt on inside out and backwards. I quickly ran my hands over my hair and rubbed off the toothpaste. 'The shirt would have to wait.' The doors parted and Milo stood in front of my arms crossed and a smirk in place.
"Nice shirt. Fashion statement," he asked turning towards the front door.
"Yeah sure is," I answered following him, "would've helped if I had an idea of when you were showing up."
"Yeah sorry about that. I would've given you a heads up if I could've. When's your flight again?"
"Uh departure time is 4:30."
"Plenty of time to get you back. That is if I survive this."
Half an hour later we pulled into a neighborhood mixed with commercial and residential buildings. Milo pulled up to a driveway leading to an underground parking area of 10 story corporate building. Milo powered down the window and flashed a black fob at the key box. The security gate rolled up and we drove through. Parking in an empty spot next to a fleet of SUVs identical to Milo's positioned in front of an elevator. We exited the vehicle into the elevator. Milo pressed the 8th floor button abd the elevator began to ascend.
"Where the hell are we," I asked.
"We're at Mac Tíre," Milo answered as if it was blatantly obvious.
"But this is corporate building. Looks like it belongs to an insurance company."
Milo smiled slightly, "guess you're in for a surprise then. Josie isn't here yet so how about a quick tour?"
"Uh sure?"
The doors opened at the 6th floor but we stayed put. Milo pressed the first floor and the elevator traveled down.
"This. Obviously is a lobby," Milo said when the doors opened, "we have a small security center here sort of a rent-a-cop position and janitorial staff storage."
Milo nodded towards the security guard and pressed the 5th floor button.
"What about floors the other floors," I asked.
"Second floor is office space. Third is lounge and cafeteria area. Fourth is full gym," Milo said.
The doors opened and Milo stepped out. The whole floor looked like a tech nerds wet dream. Computers and control panels, guys positioned in front of monitors. Nothing on the screens looked remotely familiar. To our left was a hall leading off to a handful of offices. The right housed a massive conference room.
"This is our control room."
"Control room for what," I asked.
"For everything. Security to the building and our properties around town. Tracking on our shipments. Surveillance on our business dealings. Monitoring the buying and selling of products and scouting out competition. The office space on the second floor deals with all the legality paperwork, financial portfolios, insurance, stocks and accounting. Everything else business related is handled here."
Milo did a quick walk through talking to a couple men and returned back to the elevator. Milo once again pressed the 8th floor button.
"Floors 6 and 7 are efficiency apartments for our top men and our building maintenance man and his wife who doubles as the team's housekeeper."
We stepped out of the elevator and walked to the end of the hall.
"That door," he said pointing towards the door on our left, "is Josie's apartment. I'm across the hall. Logan is next door and the other apartment was supposed to be Declan's but is now Murphy's when he returns."
"Oh and the top floors?"
"The 9th floor is identical to this one. It's reserved for Connor's men and the top floor is his penthouse suite when he's in town."
"Wow," I answered trying to process all this.
"Yeah. And to think you haven't even seen the basement."
Milo walked over to Josie's door and opened it.
"W-what's in the basement?"
"Armory, shooting range and uh...holding cells."
"Holding cells?!"
"Uh yeah. For our not so cooperative clientele."
"O-oh."
We walked through the door into a small hallway foyer. The apartment was cool and dark. An antique wood sideboard was against the wall to our right. There were two silver trays on the sideboard. One designated for keys and the other seemed to be fir mail. Milo flipped the switch by the door and two side-by-side candlestick lamps mounted above the sideboard flickered on.
The foyer area was defined by a subtle arch and beyond the arch the living room opened directly in front of us. Kitchen and dining area to the right of the living room. Bedroom suite to the left. The apartment was surprisingly large. Josie had expensive furniture. It was an eclectic mix of antique and modern. Lots of wood and black leather.
Josie's new mob wardrobe coincided with the opulent decor. The apartment felt masculine, but more of cashmere sweater and denim than brute muscle. Most likely a power tactic to show her place of dominance.
The kitchen was gourmet and stainless steel. Milo walked to the refrigerator and I couldn't help but peek inside. Eggs, fat-free milk, four bottles of Guinness, a plastic container of rustic olives, and the usual condiments. Apples, limes, and cutie oranges in the crisper. Brie and cheddar in the dairy drawer. All jars and shelves were immaculate. Milo pulled a jug of tea out and placed it on the counter.
"Thirsty," he asked.
"Sure."
He began opening cupboard doors. Organic unsweetened granola, a jar of honey, an unopened box of crackers, green tea, a foil bag of coffee beans, and two foil packets of some kind of fish. No sugary cereal, no peanut butter, no salty chips.
"Yeesh," I said gawking at the shelves.
Milo glanced at me as he closed the door and opened the next set of cupboard doors.
"What," he asked grabbing two tumblers.
"How can she live off that stuff?"
Milo chuckled, "I have no idea. She eats healthy and so does everyone else. Only get to splurge on Thanksgiving."
"You're kidding."
"Afraid not."
Milo's phone chirped with a text.
*sigh* "I have to go downstairs. Just make yourself at home."
He drained his glass, rinsed it and placed it into the dishwasher before leaving.
'Don't do it. Don't invade her privacy.' I stood at the counter staring down at my glass trying to ignore my curiosity but it was no use. Before I knew it I was prowling through the living room to the bedroom area.
There was a small sitting room with a comfy, oversized chair and a large flat-screen tv tucked in the right corner. The bedroom opened off the sitting room. King-size bed, perfectly made. Four king pillows in shams, matching tan sheets trimmed with three narrow ribbons of dark brown piping. All looked to have been ironed. A lightweight teal down comforter encased in a dark brown duvet covered the bed. Brass lamps with dark brown shades on the side tables. Fabric on chairs and curtains were earth tones. Very subdued and classy. Didn't really feel like Josie.
In fact the whole place felt like a catalog. This was a great apartment, but there were no personal touches. No photographs on the walls or in frames on any of the tables. No books on the nightstand next to the bed.
The master bath and dressing room attached to the bedroom. I stepped into the bath and went momentarily breathless. The room smelled like her. Like the rest of the space, nothing was out of place. Towels were neatly stacked. Teal and brown, matching the bedding. Very plush, better than hotel quality. The thought of them gliding over a naked Josie brought heated attention to certain areas.
The double sink was soap scum-free and set into a granite countertop. Toiletries were displayed to the left. Straightener and small makeup case to the right. No tub, but there was a massive marble-and-glass walk-in shower. Black terry robe on a hook by the shower. There was an opening to the dressing room next to the shower. The dressing room was filled with clothes. A mix of work and casual. I didn't recognize any of these clothes. This Josie wasn't a part of my life. Guess this is Ann and not Josie. Everything was neatly hung or folded. No dirty clothes lying out. Everything perfectly pressed. Even with knowing a housekeeper was on staff I suspected her apartment would still be orderly and flawless. The lack of personal touches still bothered me. There were no signs of any kind of photography equipment. The was a wall safe in the dressing room but I seriously doubted it would contain anything other than weaponry.
I abandoned the bedroom and returned to the living room. I sunk into the comfy couch and picked up the remote for the television. Instantly becoming lost. 'Total space age.' I hadn't a clue what to do with all the buttons.
After thoroughly embarrassing myself attempting to figure out the remote I gave up and turned to the apps on my phone. Successfully occupying my time for a couple hours. I started to doze off when the apartment door burst open and voices carried down the hall.
OoO (Josie) OoO
"Another fucking shirt. Are you kidding me," I griped storming down the hall unbuttoning my vest and blouse.
"Aiming to keep Ellen busy," said Milo. "Psh yeah. You'd think we'd have found a cleaner persuasion technique."
"Heh yeah. Speaking of persuasion, what would it take to keep you from shooting me," asked Milo nervously.
"What? What are you talking about," I asked stopping to face Milo.
My back was to the couch and I was concentrated on unbuttoning my blouse.
*ahem* "Well..." hesitated Milo focusing on something behind me.
I turned around to see what he was fixed on and I was faced with hazel eyes and a timid smile.
"S-surprise," he greeted waving awkwardly.
I looked between him and Milo.
"How the fuck," I asked astonished.