Poisoned Rose (Dark Roses #1) (16 page)

              Vince tweaked earpieces so that they would all be connected.  Cross and Honor were crouched down beside him, checking their guns with a practiced ease and ensuring their knives were strapped.  Bo and Johnny surveyed the street, the unmistakable air of leadership surrounding Johnny as he waited for everyone to assemble themselves.  Vivienne clashed her Sais against one another, as if she could make them any sharper than they already were, and Aurora took the safety off her guns.  He hid his surprise as his sisters nodded to Aurora and Johnny began to speak.

              ‘I’ve called Jackson, Jamie’s on his way but we’re not waiting.  If Dante and Dallas are in there, we’ll have them out by the time he gets here, then he can take them home while we hunt down the son of a bitch who took ‘em.  Hawk, is your boy on his tail?’

              ‘Hell yes.’

              ‘Then let’s roll.  Hawk, you and Honor circle round and smash through the back.  Vince, you and Vivienne back them up.  Bo, you and I are going in first through the front.  Cross, you and Aurora go in after us.’

              Everyone pushed their earpieces into place.  Hawk was the first to move, snaking around the Hummer towards the house, Vince behind him as Honor and Vivienne crept around the other side.  As he took his place on the right side of the backdoor, an unwelcome thought jumped out at him.  What if Dante was in fact involved? What if they rushed into the house only to have a shoot out with him? Johnny’s voice came through his earpiece.

              ‘Three… Two…One…’

Twenty Seven

              When Johnny got to one, Honor kicked down the back door.  They burst into the kitchen to find two men seated at a wooden table and another two standing by the sink.  Hawk fired at the two that were seated but they turned over the table and sent food flying, using it as a shield.  He pumped bullets into the table, tearing the wood apart, knowing that they would be getting their own weapons out and preparing to fight back.

              Vince had thrown two knives on entry, catching one of the men by the sink in the wrist and forearm and forcing his gun out of his hand.  As the man cried out and grabbed for the blades, Vivienne launched herself over the kitchen counter and stabbed her Sais into his gut.  She yanked them up through his torso, ripping apart his insides until she reached the centre of his chest.  Pulling each three-pronged weapon to either side, she twisted them and yanked them out before pounding her fists into his chest and shattering his rib cage.  It was her signature move when she killed in combat, the cracked bones that pierced her victim’s heart the final insult.

              Hawk reloaded his clips as Vince fought with the other man by the sink, their knives clashing against each other as the man blocked Vince’s strikes and countered back with his own.  Vince jumped back, avoiding a strike to his mid section, and his opponent took the opportunity to reach for his gun.  Vince was faster, stepping across so that his back was against the man’s front, and flipping him over his shoulder, slamming him to the ground.  No sooner had his back hit the tiles than Vince plunged one knife into the man’s chest and slit his throat with the other.  He grunted as he wiped the blades on his cargo pants, but as his eyes met Hawk’s, Hawk knew that they were thinking the same thing.  The men knew what they were doing.  They were rogues.

              He felt Honor step up behind him.  He took two steps then flew towards the overturned table, his sidekick cracking through the middle of the wood just as the men moved to shoot at Honor.  The table split in two and knocked both men in the backs as he dropped to the floor in a seamless move, crouching down and bracing one hand on the ground.  Still on their knees the men dropped their guns, stumbling forward to keep from getting knocked over.  He lifted his head to watch as they both realized their weapons were out of reach.  It was a reaction that he’d seen countless times before, their eyes darting to their guns, calculating the distance and registering that they wouldn’t have time to reach them.  Their eyes moved to stare at Honor, who was still standing where he had been, a Glock aimed at each man.  She smirked as her guns exploded, a single bullet flying from each, sending the men careening back as the shots went through their foreheads and out the backs of their skulls, their brains decorating the walls behind them.  He stood up and wiped the blood splatters off his cheeks and forearms.  Honor put her hand up to her earpiece.

              ‘Kitchen’s clear.’

              He heard footsteps overhead, and he and Honor rushed through the kitchen door into the corridor as three armed men came running down the stairs.  The men were headed for Johnny’s unit, who were shooting it out with more rogues at the door to the living room.  Honor fired three shots at the men as Bo spun around and fired three of his own, his bullets going through each of their foreheads as hers went through the back of their skulls.  The shootout ended and Hawk saw a pool of bullet cases littering the floor of the foyer.

              ‘Six down in the living room. The other rooms are clear.  How many are in there?’

              Johnny’s finger was still on the trigger of his semi automatic SIG Pro.

              ‘Four down, not including these three.’

              Honor kicked the body of the man closest to her.  Cross and Bo were reloading their Berettas, and as Aurora pushed the clips in on her Glock, she looked at him and cocked her head to the side, an eyebrow raised in challenge and a smirk on her lips.  In response he winked at her and took a second to bask in her smile before surveying their surroundings.

              In the living room six men lay dead in pools of their own blood, two bullet riddled bodies slumped against the back wall, four face down on the floor.  The bodies were surrounded by shattered glass, blood stained playing cards, a splintered wooden table and four shredded upholstered chairs.  On the other side of the room was a set of black leather couches and a sixty five inch LED, the only thing left undamaged on its wall bracket.  Whoever the rogues were, they had a shitload of money.  He frowned, a feeling of foreboding settling into his gut.  He shot at the plasma just because he could, shards of the screen falling like a waterfall.  He turned to find Vince and Vivienne coming out of the kitchen, Vince still holding his knives and Vivienne wiping her Sais on her leather pants.  Vince spoke first.

              ‘We frisked them.  Two rogue Romanovs, one rogue De Matteo and…’

              Vince paused, his eyes meeting Johnny’s.  Johnny marched into the kitchen, Bo following, and seconds later they heard yelling and swearing, backed up by the sounds of a body being pummeled.  In the entryway, the bodies of the three men lay at the bottom of the steps.  Honor grabbed them one by one, turning them over to see their faces.  She scrunched up her nose in disgust.

              ‘I don’t know these two but this traitor is one of ours.’

              She yanked the head of her rogue soldier back and dug two fingers into the bullet hole in his forehead, twisting her hand and pulling it back out, a piece of metal between her fingers.  Hawk crossed his arms and flicked his gaze towards Vivienne, whose face was still splattered in her victim’s blood and whose clothing was dripping red.

              ‘One day you two are gonna get some sick bastard’s blood all over you and then we’re all screwed.’

              Vivienne snorted.

              ‘Like you can talk.  Anyway, we’re Masons, none of us will be living long enough to die from a disease.’

              There was no sadness behind her words.  She was right, the weight and the truth behind them leaving him feeling drained.  Honor inspected the metal, then tossed it at Cross.  He caught it with one hand as she wiped her hands on the soldier’s shirt before changing the clips of her Glocks.  Johnny and Bo stalked back into the foyer and Cross held out his palm.  Johnny took the metal and turned to Honor.

              ‘Your bullets and Bo’s hit each other in the guy’s head.  Nice shooting.’

              ‘Good training.’

              Honor elbowed Vivienne and nodded her head towards the stairs, letting everyone know they would check out the second floor. Cross then turned to Johnny and told him that he and Vince would go back into the kitchen. As the others turned to fan out they heard two shots from upstairs and a sickening squelch.  Honor’s voice came through the earpieces, letting everyone know that the three cowards that were hiding were dead and upstairs was clear.  Johnny made a circular motion with his fingers but before anyone could move, a choked gurgling drifted into the foyer.  Hawk was the first to step into the living room.  One of the men against the wall was still alive and had pulled himself up to a sitting position, his body covered in blood from the neck down.  He sat staring at them and laughing, a sound that was half laugh half gurgle.

              ‘Never trust a Mason.’

              Hawk stepped closer, his stance widening, his grip on his gun tightening.  He looked at the man’s face and his stomach turned.  One of his eyes had a scar from the cheek bone to the eyebrow, straight through an eyeball which had a cloud of white where the iris should have been.  Frankie Lupus, a senior New York soldier and one of the most sadistic men he had ever come across, was dying at his feet.  He would have bet his entire Family that Frankie had been the one to kill Mike.  A chill ran through Hawk’s body.  Was it possible the New York Masons were responsible for the whole situation?  It would explain where all the money had come from.  But they’d killed Carter… the War was over… his family wasn’t that messed up that another Mason could be behind the rogues… right? He called out to Honor and within seconds both his sisters were standing beside him.

              ‘Look who I found.  Frankie just told me to never trust a Mason.’

              ‘Oh really? Why’s that?’

              Almost everything about Honor said that she was humoring him, but the tension in her back and shoulders gave her away.

              ‘You really think that rogue Da Silva is a captain? Carlos is a scapegoat. The real bosses used him to recruit soldiers.’

              Spit and blood were flying out of Frankie’s mouth as he continued to mock them.  He started coughing, then clutched his stomach.  Hawk realized that Carlos was the man Ty was tracking.

              ‘We were sent to watch him and those soldiers that he turned rogue.  Every soldier that’s walked into that club has turned against their Families and I’ll tell you now, any of your boys that are working there are traitors.’

              Hawk’s grip on his gun was so tight that his knuckles had turned white, and he was grinding his teeth so bad he could barely talk.

              ‘Where’s there?’

              ‘That stupid club he manages for the Da Silva’s.  He’s been running ops out of it for almost a year and the Da Silva’s are so caught up in their own little world that they haven’t even realized.’

              ‘Why are you telling us this?’

              ‘Well, I’m assuming the Devil has cable, and I’ve always loved a good show.’

              Frankie started coughing again and closed his eyes.  Vivienne sprang forward and grabbed his face, forcing him to open his eyes and asking him who gave the orders to watch Carlos. He grinned at her, his teeth red with blood.  It dribbled down his chin as he spoke his dying words.

              ‘Think about it princess, why do you think Tony Hannam was the first one to be killed? Tony was the brother that Mario never had, the only one who would never betray him.  Now with him out of the picture, well, I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself.  Best make friends were you can find them children.  God knows you can’t trust your own blood.’

              Vivienne started screeching, desperate to know which of their uncles had given the orders, but Frankie’s eyes had glazed over and his head slumped to the side the moment she let go.  She stood up and kicked him before turning to Hawk and Honor.

              ‘We’ve got to tell Halo.’

              ‘I’m right here.’

              Halo was standing in the hallway, a silver suitcase in each hand.  She gave a quick nod to Johnny and Bo, before raising an eyebrow and surveying the scene. At that moment, Jamie walked through the front door, Beretta in hand, and asked if they’d found Dallas and Dante. Hawk shook his head and swallowed the bile that was caught in his throat.  From the doorway, Johnny addressed the De Matteo captain, letting him know that they were searching the house. Jamie nodded and made his way to the dining room.  Once he was gone, Halo spoke.

              ‘I heard what he said, we’ve got to tell the boss.’

              ‘Let’s sort this out first.’

              Hawk’s eyes were unfocused as he met Aurora’s, a series of past horrors running like a film, flickering and obstructing his view, his brain the reel, his eyes the projectors.  He knew that Honor and Vivienne’s eyes would be the same.  The very real possibility that one or more of their uncles could be out to destroy not just them but the world they’d worked so hard to control, had shaken them, and he knew that his siblings were remembering the same things he was.

              Halo pressed on.

              ‘If this comes out the other Families will turn against us.  We have to act now…’

              ‘Halo stop! You can deal with the political shit later.  Right now you need to fix this situation when the cops get here, do whatever you need to do to make all this disappear…’

              ‘The Hannam Family will stand by you.’

              Halo turned to Johnny as he interrupted, all hostility gone, and Hawk recognized the fear that was behind her eyes.  She’d been there.  He should have known she’d be having flashbacks too.  She looked at Johnny with relief and started to thank him but was cut off.

              ‘Found em!’

              Cross’s voice echoed into the hallway and the group bolted for the kitchen.  The conversation was forgotten and Halo was left standing in the hallway with her silver suitcases and fallen pride.  The pantry door was open and Hawk could see a hidden door inside, one that had been ripped off its hinges.  Cross was running down a flight of steps, with Johnny and Jamie behind him.

              He looked around the kitchen and took in the carnage that he hadn’t registered earlier.  The room looked like an abattoir.  Vivienne’s victim was slumped by the sink with his arm still pinned to the wall, his head resting forward on his open chest, half his organs on the floor beside him.  Vince’s sparring partner lay near him, his throat wide open, blood flowing from the hole in his chest. Then there were the soldiers he and Honor had killed.  Honor had left a perfect bullet hole between each of their eyes, but while the rogue Romanov soldier still wore his final battle wound, the Hannam soldier wasn’t so lucky.  Johnny had attacked him post mortem, the perfect shot no longer visible.  The man’s face and chest were caved in, but Hawk knew it would have been worse if Bo hadn’t been there.  He tore his eyes away from the scene and turned to Aurora, who stood staring at the open doorway.  He took her hand and she looked up at him.