Perceive by K E Osborn

 

 

AXEL

 

“Duck season,” Luca whispers as we edge around the doorway and into a large open room, the centerpiece—a Tyrannosaurus skeleton.

“Wabbit season,” Eli counters back, his large hulking body moving swiftly behind us.

“Duck se—”

“Shut the fuck up for God’s sake,” Kace hisses through my earpiece.

Him, Tanner, and Blair have taken an alternate route, while Noah and Jack are in the front lobby, heading for security to inform them that they’re here to relieve them of their duties for the night.

So, we could hunt down a traitor.

And murder him.

I’m sure they planned on using some other kind of explanation, though.

Once they are in the security office, they can watch the cameras on the big screens, making it a hell of a lot simpler to catch movement rather than on Noah’s itty-bitty tablet.

My eyes scan the room, hitting every wall, every curve, every dark shadowy corner as we sneak through the darkened rooms. This place is huge, multiple floors, multiple rooms and halls and exhibits. A lot with glass windows in the ceiling which means as the sun sets, our vision is about to set with it.

The tile floors and high ceilings also do little to help with trying to keep silent. Every step, squeaks and echoes, bouncing off every wall like you may as well just fucking scream. With my gun pulled close to my chest, my finger flat against the side of the trigger, I’m ready for anything.

Brandon is an unpredictable little bastard.

Sometimes he surprises me with the balls he has. Though, you do have to wonder if they’re real, or if he just rented them occasionally, and with the information we were just told, maybe he was even borrowing them from Camilla.

Then there were times when you got a good look at that pussy in him.

Where he ran.

And hid.

And in my imagination—cried.

“Tyrannosaurus Rex, clear,” Luca announces as we edge the last corner of the room and hit the hallway.

“Blue whale, clear,” Kace answers back. “This thing is fucking huge.”

“Did you check inside the blue whale?” Eli asks when we pause at a closed door.

There’s almost a stunned silence for a second, followed by Tanner’s light chuckle. “It’s hanging from the roof.”

“We said we’d check everywhere,” Luca clarifies, his hand reaching for the door handle. His eyes connect with both mine and Eli’s, checking we’re ready before twisting the handle and giving it a hard shove. It swings back, slamming hard against the wall, revealing a tiny janitor’s closet. “Even inside fake whale orifices.”

“I’m not going inside there,” Blair protests under his breath. “If Brandon’s in there, good luck to him. I hope he suffocates inside that whale’s ass.”

I step into the small closet. Using the end of my gun, I push aside a couple of brooms and boxes, just making sure there’s no room for a guy to hide away. Satisfied, I take a step back, repeating the process with several more, tiny storage rooms before we move into another wide-open area.

My eyes pull to the ceiling, it’s more than four levels up. Giant white pillars decorate each corner of the square-shaped room, with open balconies the entire way around on every single floor above us.

“I don’t like this,” Eli murmurs at the same time as the hair on my neck stands on end.

It’s too fucking open.

We’re way too vulnerable.

And Brandon—no matter how stupid—is trained exactly like us.

He knows how we work.

How we move.

And that’s not a comforting feeling.

Just off to the side of the space is a small Sahara scene—a very fucking real-looking elephant and its buddies, the giraffe and the hippo chilling out next to a watering hole.

A set of stairs to my left behind an archway look like they lead up to the other levels above us, while the two other exits from the large void we are in, seem to follow on to other hallways and more exhibits.

“I’m going up,” I announce, easing back toward the staircase. This magnetism pulling me that way and my body moves with it. I learned a long time ago not to fight my instincts. They’re what has kept me alive up to this point. And they’re what kept me from giving up on Kenzi too.

“Be careful,” Luca orders sternly, the sudden serious tone rare but not uncommon. While he can be a goofball for the most part, the reality of the situation is that one of us can easily not come out of this. Not when you essentially have another agent coming at you with who knows what kind of aggression or ammunition.

Eli and Luca both move around the side of the open space, while I quickly and smoothly make my way up the staircase. I almost pause, stepping out onto the level and do the rounds to clear the first-floor balcony, but a very subtle shift of shadows on the level above me, across the opposite side, has my heart starting to race.

Instead of pausing, I continue up to level two, slinking back against the wall and in the shadows as opposed to near the open balcony where there’s too much light.

Holding my breath, I freeze.

Waiting for something.

Knowing I’m not seeing things.

The baseball cap comes first, the bill just peeking over the side of the concrete barrier wall that keeps people from falling to their deaths. Then his head, shoulders, and a handgun.

Motherfucker.

He leans over the edge, his eyes flickering, following someone below us—one of my team.

His target.

But he hasn’t seen me yet, he thinks he has time, that I will be doing the rounds of the floor below us first, giving him those extra few minutes to pick off my teammates from above. Leaning back against the wall for balance, I brace my body and lift my scope to my eye.

The instant I set my sights up, the world around me changes.

It’s quiet.

But also, not.

I learned how to shoot with white noise playing in the background. It was a weird situation to try and focus to start with because white noise can seem so fucking loud when it’s all you can hear. You have to teach yourself to just let it be. To block it out. To let it fade into the background. Because if you can fight back that horrendous noise, you can block out fucking anything.

My cross hairs pick up Brandon instantly, my kill shot shifting a little down and to the left—our orders to incapacitate if possible, ring in my ears.

We both squeeze the trigger at the same time, and I have to hope like fucking hell that his aim is off.

Worse than that...

… completely off.

Unfortunately, my perfect shot doesn’t account for the kickback of his gun, so his shoulder jerks backward just as my bullet shoots across the room and instead of going through his shoulder, it just skims the side of his arm.

“Fuck!” he screams, his entire body dropping to the floor.

“Shit,” I curse, my feet moving swiftly on their own. Gun held close to my face, but my eyes focus on what is ahead of me as I round the first corner. “We found him. Everyone okay?”

“We’re coming,” Kace hisses, footsteps pounding in the background.

The welcoming sound of reinforcements.

“We’re okay,” Luca answers. “Though the giraffe might not have been so lucky. We’re coming up.”

“Second floor,” I whisper as I edge toward the next corner, the one that leads to his hiding spot, the heavy corner pillars disrupting my view. Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I edge out, just in time to see him leap over the edge of the concrete barrier. “Fuck, he’s running!”

I rush forward, looking over the edge, wondering if I’m about to see him splat on the fucking tile floor two stories below us. Instead, I watch him land on the back of a hippo and slide off like it’s a fucking kids’ ride.

Shots ring out around us, echoing off the walls and making it sound like the building is exploding. Yet, I watch this asshole duck and dive, while looking like one of his arms is complete jelly, just hanging floppy beside him. “If the giraffe wasn’t dead, it is now,” Eli scoffs, jogging up beside me. “Luca just let loose eight rounds into it.”

“Goddammit!” I curse, the three of us rushing back to the staircase, not so willing to take our chances with the hippo. “He’s heading for the Chinese History Display.”

Our boots slam heavily against the tile floors, making quick time through the short walkway.

Luca rushes out first—mistake.

Two gunshots blast loudly, hitting my team member in the chest and stomach. The force of the blow is enough to send him stumbling backward. He reaches out, looking for a way to catch himself before he hits the floor.

If there’s one thing we’re always taught, it’s to do whatever possible to stay on your feet.

Unfortunately, in a room full of ancient Chinese artifacts, he probably should just take the fall.

Eli and I pull back, only able to watch as Luca grabs hold of a wall-sized Chinese tapestry, pulling hard as he tries to keep on his feet.

Lesson one—Chinese tapestries are incredibly delicate, and the sound it makes as it tears away from the ceiling is one that will haunt me in my dreams.

“Oh, God,” I murmur, watching Luca rip through a piece of history before finally finding his feet and pressing his back against the wall.

Lesson two—don’t grab hold of said Chinese tapestry when falling.

Luca’s face pinches in sharp pain. No doubt because taking two bullets to the abdomen, even with a vest on, can break ribs and bruise internal organs. He groans painfully, his body slumping, the sound becoming even louder when he looks at the fabric wrapped around his hand and laying limp across the floor. “Jack’s gonna kill me.”

“Jack is the least of your worries.” Brandon’s thick accent is like a fucking slap in the face, and Eli and I are quick to exit the short hallway and step into the vast display room, our weapons drawn at the ready. Brandon stands just a few feet away, and I quickly level my gun at him, though the fact his aim is pointed directly at Luca’s temple is a problem.

“Come on, man,” Luca tries to reason, his hands slowly moving into the air, palms open. “You don’t wanna do this shit. It’s not too late to change sides.”

“Change sides?” Brandon cackles, moving his gun to the back of Luca’s neck as he slips in behind him. He’s using Luca as a shield, using his body armor to protect him like the coward he is. “You guys think you’re it, don’t you? You think you’re the be-all and end-all of good guys. Like some fucking group of damn superheroes from a DC comic?”

My cross hairs follow Brandon’s movements. He’s in pain, the constant pinch in his brow letting me know he is trying to keep it at bay, attempting to focus on the now. The arm at his side still hasn’t moved, the limp and floppy limb desperately needing to be checked by a doctor. Though, he knows that will give him away instantly.

“Keep him talking,” Kace orders, him and the others huffing and puffing in my ear as they make their way through the maze of the museum toward us.

“You took a risk coming here tonight,” I murmur, attempting to move just slightly, trying to get a better shot.

“Keep. Still,” Brandon growls through clenched teeth. “You move again, I’ll fire what’s left of my rounds directly into Luca’s spine, and we will test just what this vest can take. You wanna see?”

I pause.

There’s no other option but to standing fucking still and listen to the asshole ramble and jab his gun at the base of my teammate’s neck.

Kace, Tanner, and Blair ease into the room, their weapons leveled, searching for the assailant.

“Oh yay! The golden child is here!” Brandon cackles, his voice shaking just slightly.

“You got a problem with me, Brandon? Let’s sort that out,” Kace tries to bargain as he settles in beside me, lowering his gun as if he’s open to talking shit out.

“Let’s!”

Brandon’s gun appears for a brief second, his aim on fucking point as the bullet lodges in Kace’s left arm.

“Fuck!” Kace curses, Blair managing to catch him as he flounders for a second, fighting to stay on his feet.

Brandon continues, the pitch of his voice rising a little higher as his agitation sets in. “Always the perfect little soldier. Momma’s boy. Better than everyone else.” His gun is already back, digging into Luca’s neck, and by the look on Luca’s face, he isn’t being gentle about it. “Always given everything handed to him on a silver plater. Even though there are people out there who were better. A better shot. More intelligence. More ruthless.”

Kace presses his hand hard to the wound, leaning into Blair for support as he finds his strength again. Which he will. I know it because despite Brandon’s rants about Kace being handed everything he had—Kace fucking earned his place on this team and as its leader. There’s no fucking doubt in my mind.

“You think you’re better,” Kace questions with a raised brow while sucking in deep breaths and pushing his shoulders back. The pain being pushed aside as he concentrates, using his high-pain threshold tolerance methods we are all taught.

Brandon peeks out from behind Luca’s head, just enough to see his narrowed gaze. “I don’t think, I know.” He pauses for a second, his body shifting nervously as though he’s questioning his next words. “Camilla tells me constantly. She sees my potential. She sees my worth. My strength. My skills. She’s even said that I’m the son she should have had.”

“Well shit! You can keep her,” Kace snaps, barely a flicker of hurt on his face. Maybe he’s good at hiding it, the pain I know that always washes over him when someone talks about the woman who raised him, tried to take away his father, and then turned her back on him. “People like you deserve each other. You. My Mom. And Hendrix, too, right?”

Brandon’s laughter is like a hyena or that crazy clown you see in your dreams, the one you can never run away from, who’s always right there behind you.

I can hear the cackle.

Haunting me.

“You thought your little stunt with Kenzi was going to catch me.”

“It almost did,” I counter, my lip curls up into a sneer as I think about the way he split open Kenzi’s head, then chased her like a predator through that carnival of hell. “You knew she’d figured it out. You called her Mac, not Kenzi. Hendrix was the only one who called her Mac.”

“An unfortunate mistake, but it had been a long time coming.”

There are confused glances as each of us look at each other. “How long—”

“Have I been relaying messages between Hendrix and Camilla? Years.”

My heart leaps into my throat, a rush of pins and needles move like a wave over my skin, numbing me. “Did you say… fucking years?”

The corner of his mouth curls up into a smirk just to the side of Luca’s head. I want to shoot it fucking off, but with the power I have in my gun, I can’t risk my aim being out by even the slightest margin. Because if it is, Luca will lose an ear or something worse.

“Hendrix and Camilla have been in touch for years?” Tanner questions, looking for confirmation to what we are hearing but having trouble comprehending in this moment.

“Yes.”

“Did Camilla know Kenzi was with him?” I growl, my finger curling around the trigger of my gun.

This time Brandon’s laugh is different.

It’s softer.

Smug.

Or maybe he’s simply amused.

“How do you think she met Hendrix?” he taunts, his voice barely above a whisper.

Luca’s hands clench at his sides and his eyes meet mine. There’s a fire inside them, one I’m sure he can see mirrored in mine and the rest of our team. “She got a lead on Kenzi. Followed it to Hendrix. Found out what he was doing and realized the product he was producing was valuable. A business relationship with him was worth far more than the problems that would be caused if agents were sent in to retrieve Kenzi.”

My mind just isn’t sure where to go with this.

Years.

For fucking years, I have been chasing my tail.

Fighting a fight that wasn’t fucking mine.

On some off-chance the girl I love was still fucking out there.

And Camilla basically knew the entire time.

The woman who was in command of The Agency.

The woman who was in charge of recruiting me and making me a part of the SO7, just so I could find Kenzi, knew where she was all along and kept me here searching frivolously.

Like some damn fool.

“How do you think things went so wrong that day we went in to capture Kenzi? The SO9 is just as fucking good as you fuckers, but I was trying to get in the way. Trying to get them to back down so she could be moved.”

His tone is bitter and agitated at the reminder that our team will always be better than his.

Better than him.

“You shot Zeb,” Luca spits, his body jerking when the gun digs in again, a little harder.

The puzzle pieces are falling now and the places they’ve begun to slot into are spots we’d never even taken a second look at before.

It’s crazy.

How did we miss this?

We knew Brandon was a bad egg, but how the fuck did we not know it was this bad?

We’re paid to know this shit.

Paid to ensure this shit never happens.

“You know there’s no escaping. Not now, not with what you’ve done,” Kace warns, taking a step forward, his hand still pressed to his arm, just a peek of blood seeping through his fingers. “You know you’ll have to pay for your actions.”

Brandon sighs dramatically. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? It’s just a shame you’re gonna have to let me go.”

The room falls silent.

All of us looking at each other in confusion while trying to keep one eye on him.

He peers out from behind Luca, leaning in real close to his ear. “You left all those little ladies together at Kace’s place, didn’t you?”

Fuck.

Brandon isn’t meant to know where Kace’s house is located.

Let alone that the girls are there.

Together.

“No one’s picking up,” Noah murmurs in my ear, suddenly remembering that he and Jack are in the security room, probably watching this go down on a monitor. “I’ve tried Annamae, Everly, and Lily.”

“You’ve got about…” Brandon lifts his wrist to check his watch, “… two minutes and seven seconds.”

“Before what?” I yell, launching forward, but Eli catches me, pulling me back.

“You can either let me walk out and hope one of them will pick up your phone calls so you can get them out of the house,” he answers with a soft laugh. “Or… you can just let it be a surprise for when you get back home.”

“Motherfuck—”

“Tick-tock,” he taunts as he starts walking backward, Luca moving with him, shielding the bastard as he makes his way toward the open doorway on the other side of the room.

We could call his bluff.

Chase him down.

Kill the cocky fucking bastard.

Or we can remind ourselves of just what the fuck he is capable of and fight for the women we love.

When he reaches his escape, it’s only seconds before I hear his heavy footsteps take off down the hall and Luca slumps, dropping into a crouch and trying to catch his breath.

“Fucking call whoever you can,” Kace orders, his attention suddenly on his cell phone. “Brandon will keep for another day. We need to get the girls out of that damn house.”