Perceive by K E Osborn

 

 

AXEL

 

“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” Everly announces through my earpiece. “I don’t need to remind you this shit is going to be tight. We have maybe a minute or so to do the changeover without making anyone suspicious at the delivery end. Our sleight of hand is going to have to be perfect.”

“You heard the lady. It’s going to be tight,” Luca adds. “Pucker those assholes, people.”

“Motivational,” I scoff out, leaning into the brick building, my gun cradled in my arms. Luca grins at me from across the street, his position mirroring mine. We’re hidden down a quiet city side street about ten blocks from Ridgemont Manor. The same road the van carrying Hendrix’s dirty poison will turn down soon. How do I know? Because we’ve made sure of it with some strategically placed roadblocks—a couple of accidents, roadwork, and a fire to ensure they use the correct route.

“We have movement.”

My body tightens.

“The van is pulling out of the hotel,” Everly confirms, her tone becoming low and serious. “Two guys in the cab. Four black ninja sports motorcycles as escorts.”

My nose crinkles.

Sports bikes.

The guys who ride them aren’t real bikers. 

“Falcon, you’re up.”

But they’re about to meet some.

“Got you.” My father’s gruff tone is comforting, a reminder of how many people I have at my back right now, ready to bring Kenzi home. We needed numbers for this, and with all the Brandon bullshit that’s been going down, the only people I trust outside my team are my family.

I’m not about to go into this without them.

Not when I’m facing the most important battle of my damn life.

The one for the girl I love.

It’s only a few minutes before the high-pitched revving of the sports motorcycles screech through the air, their engines slowing, turning, easing onto the street. A moment later, the deep rumble of twenty or more Harley Davidsons cruising into both ends of the street is a welcoming sound.

One I feel deep in my bones.

“Let’s go!”

At the sound of Kace’s command, I surge forward, my knees bent and body low, gun aimed on the van as it pulls to a stop in the middle of the street. My teammates move from the other side while the club boxes in the convoy, several members already advancing on the sports cycle riders with their weapons drawn.

I yank the van door open. “Get out!” I snap, the driver practically falling out with his hands in the air, complete panic written across his features. Reaching out, I grab the front of his shirt, tossing him onto the pavement while Luca does the same with the driver, ordering loudly for him to, “Stay the fuck down.”

“Runner!”

The sharp rev and squeal of tires pulls my attention, the back end of one of the ninja’s bikes swings sideways, rubber burning and smoke lifting into the air as he attempts to find some traction to escape.

Unfortunately for him, those few seconds cost him, giving Blair enough time to run and reach him, then drag the rider straight off the back, tossing him onto the road. The ninja falls right over, the rider lying on his back, hands in the air screaming, “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot!”

“Try that shit again,” Blair warns. “And I will shove this gun up your goddamn ass before I fire it.”

“Axel!” Kace calls from the back of the van. The doors are wide open. I rush over, hooking the strap of my gun over my head and letting it hang to my side. “We have a problem.”

“What’s the—” I step around the back of the van, my body instantly freezing as I look up at the shelves lining the inside. “Fuck!” I curse, eyeing the rows and rows of vials sitting in racks. Hundreds. Each securely and tightly packed with the name of some laboratory plastered across the side, but with no indication as to what exactly we are dealing with.

“You think every fucking one of these has the bio-chem in it?” Kace questions, looking between me and Falcon, who’s joined us at the back of the van.

I shake my head. “It can’t be.”

My dad scoffs. “Or your man was smart enough to disguise them in case these guys got stopped or one of his buyers tries to fuck him over.”

“We can’t take the risk. We need to assume every single one of these fucking vials is capable of killing,” Jack says in our ear. “Scrap the plan, we need a contingency, and we need it fucking fast.”

Plan A was simply to swap the substance out for a placebo.

Take the place of the guys doing the drop.

Then with the major danger eliminated, all we had to worry about was Hendrix.

Silence settles around us, each and every single person on this street right now is trying to come up with something, any fucking thing we can use right now to figure this out. If we don’t sort it before Hendrix gets a hold of this load of God knows what, Kenzi is as good as dead.

“I used to work for the forensics guys downtown,” a loud voice announces.

We all turn to see Ice, one of my club brothers and best friends, ducking through the chaos and rushing to the van. “I spent time cleaning up crime scenes and shit when I got out of the army… only one who had the guts for it, I guess. They have those little glass tubes. Exactly the same. We could grab some, meet you at the venue, and try to swap them out.”

I grit my teeth and look to Kace. “You think there’s time?”

“Do we have any other fucking choice?”

“I’ll call them,” Jack answers instantly, his tone short and sharp. “Tell them to have them waiting at the damn door. Get someone there. Now.”

Dad and I both look at Ice. “Go,” I order. “Now.”

He snaps me a short salute and takes off running. The sound of his motorcycle starting sends a nervous chill down my spine as I take a deep breath and turn back to the problem at hand.

“We’re gonna have to take this stuff inside and sit on it until Ice gets here with replacements, so we know the ones we are handing over aren’t going to kill Kenzi.”

Now, not only do we have to somehow get the team in without being noticed, we still have to swap the bio-chem out before Hendrix attempts to use Kenzi to demonstrate its damn power.

“All right!” Kace announces loudly, checking his watch. “Time is ticking, and we are running out of options. Get Hendrix’s guys out of here, follow the plan like before, but this time, instead of simply dropping the goods, we need some men to follow them inside.”

“I can get inside.” Carlos steps out from the middle of the line of Malice MC. “Most of the men there know me. They won’t question me wanting to stay with the product and not hand it over. They’ll just think I’m trying to prove something.”

“You think we’re just going to trust you? Pretend like you haven’t been playing for the other side until now? I don’t like it,” Luca warns, looking to Kace and me before narrowing his gaze back on Carlos.

He is an unknown.

So far, he’s played ball, but what if he decides to out us.

Kenzi could die.

We could all die.

“Time’s up, Kace,” Everly says sternly. “You need to decide. We’re now officially late.”

Kace grits his teeth. “We don’t have another choice right now.” He steps up in front of Carlos, getting right up in the kid’s space. “You fuck us on this, and you’re going to learn firsthand the skills I have.”

Carlos swallows hard. “I hear you.”

“Curtains!” My dad calls, waving over the Malice MC club member. “Hendrix has likely studied every member of The Agency. They’ll be on the lookout for you guys. You need someone who they wouldn’t have seen before.”

Kace nods. “Good call. Go with Carlos. Axel, you take one of the motorcycles, keep your helmet on so they don’t see your face. Blair, Zeb, and Charli will take the other three.”

Charli is the newest member of the SO9.

She’s young, barely into her twenties but passed every Agency test highest in her class. I almost wish Brandon wasn’t dead so I could watch Charli beat the shit out of him the second he opened his mouth and tried to sweet-talk her.

I strip off my gear, tossing it to Luca and pulling on one of the rider’s jackets.

“You need to go, now. And fast,” Everly urges, even louder and sharper than before.

Thankfully, I have her in my ear directing us through traffic to hit the route to the venue in record time. Though we pull up to the rear of the building’s loading bay, still at least three minutes late. The guys waiting outside don’t appear happy about it.

I pull my ride in right up by the front of the van, as close as I can get without looking out of place, putting the pressure on Carlos to do the right thing and not fuck with my life right now.

Carlos climbs out of the passenger’s seat. “I know, I know! We’re a little late.”

“Carlos?” one of the goons questions, making his way down the stairs. “I didn’t know you were on this.”

The kid rolls his eyes dramatically. “I was just gonna hang at the hotel but then Andy who was meant to be driving, got fucking drunk last night, and there was no way in hell I was letting him drive this…” he points to the vehicle, his eyes wide, “… in his fucking state. You feel me?”

The goon checks out Curtains for a few seconds before turning his attention back to Carlos. “Who’s this guy?”

“Look,” Carlos snaps, surprising me. Every muscle in my body tenses, and I can’t help but think this kid is about to fuck this shit up for us. He’s about to ruin my only chance at getting to Kenzi. “You want to stand here and argue with me? Or you want to get this stuff inside before the presentation starts? We can go talk to Hendrix if you want, but all that’s going to do is piss him off and—”

“All right! Okay,” the goon exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Hurry up and move this shit into the storage room. Turn right just inside the doors, and it’s the third door on the left. Stand a couple of your biker bitches in the hallway, don’t let anyone in until I come to get the sample for Hendrix’s show.”

Carlos nods sharply and turns around. “Well? You heard the man. Get this shit inside!” He does well to keep his voice steady, no one would know he’s playing a part and lying through his teeth.

Not unless you see the way his hands infinitesimally shake. Or the way he holds his shoulders pushed uncomfortably back because of the breath he’s holding.

The goons soon disappear back into the building, leaving two glass doors splayed open for us. We round the back of the van, all of us slipping on surgical masks and gloves we found inside a medical kit in the cab. Convenient, given we don’t want anyone to recognize us and we’re dealing with such dangerous chemicals.

Crate after crate, we cautiously transport the van full of vials into a tiny storage room come oversized janitor’s closet, stacking them against one wall. I tuck my earpiece back into my ear while we squish into the tiny space and lock the door. It’s cramped for the six of us, full of cleaning supplies and a small benchtop with a sink. “All right, someone tell me what the hell the plan is now.”

I place my back against the door and fold my arms across my chest. “We wait, and we fucking pray that Ice moves fast.”

“And if he doesn’t make it?”

Right now, I can’t let that question eat at me because it will, like a disease.

And if we don’t rescue Kenzi, there’s no antidote.

It’ll kill me too.