Unseen (Will Trent / Atlanta Series)
counter.
“Benjamin?” Will called. He took the stairs two at a time. He stopped outside the bathroom, but didn’t go in. There was a surface bolt on one of the bedroom doors. A heavy-duty combination lock held it closed.
“Benjamin?” Will banged on the door. “It’s Mr. Black from last night. I’m a police officer. I’m here to help you.” The lock was secured with bolts, not screws. There was no way for Will to pry it loose. “Benjamin, I need you to stand back. I’m going to break open the door.”
Will waited a few seconds, then raised his foot and kicked the door. The lock rattled against the wood. He kicked again. The wood around the jamb started to splinter. He raised his foot and kicked it again. Then again. Finally, by sheer repetition, he was able to break apart the wood. The door popped back on its hinges. The knob stuck in the sheetrock.
Benjamin was chained to the floor. He was sitting in the corner, his back to the wall. He was obviously terrified.
“It’s okay,” Will told him. “I’m a police officer. I’m here to help you.”
Benjamin didn’t respond. Will quickly took in the situation. A pair of handcuffs linked the boy’s ankle to the chain. The end was attached to an eyehook screwed into the floor. Someone had doused it with Liquid Nails to keep the boy from backing out the screw. Probably Tony. It seemed like the kind of half-ass job he’d do. Tony should’ve thought about the fact that Benjamin wouldn’t have anywhere to use the toilet. The wood had softened from urine. Will easily wrenched the hook out of the floor.
Then he heard a car door slam shut.
Will ran to the front window. Paul Vickery got out of a white Honda. He had a gun in his hand.
“Shit,” Will muttered. He should’ve known Vickery was involved in this.
Will took out his iPhone. He asked Benjamin, “Do you know how to send a text message?”
Benjamin nodded, his eyes still wide with terror.
“You’re going to send a text to my partner.” Will swiped the screen. He selected the right app, then dialed Faith’s number before handing the phone to Benjamin. “Type in your name. Tell herthat you’re hiding in Cayla’s house. Tell her to hurry.” Will scooped up Benjamin in his arms as he left the room. There was an attic hatch in the hall. Will had seen it when he stood at the top of the stairs. He held Benjamin up. The boy didn’t have to be told what to do. He pushed open the hatch and climbed into the attic.
Will told him, “Don’t make any noise. If they find you, don’t go anywhere without that phone. Do you understand? It’s got a tracker in it. We can find you if you keep the phone. Put it in your pocket. Don’t lose it.”
Benjamin pulled up the chain around his ankle. The hatch fell into place just as the front door slammed open.
Will barreled down the stairs at a full run. Paul Vickery had attacked him two times before, but each time, the man had surprise on his side. This time, Will had the upper hand. He also knew that crooked as Vickery was, he was a trained police officer. He’d do exactly what Will had done. Check the closet. Check the garage. Check the kitchen.
Vickery was coming out of the kitchen when Will launched himself off the stairs. Vickery’s mouth opened. He didn’t have time to scream. Will tackled him to the floor like a pile driver. Vickery’s gun skittered out of his hand. Will slammed his fist straight into the man’s face. As awful as the situation was, Will couldn’t help but feel the sweet victory of payback as Vickery’s nose exploded like a blown tire.
Will reared back for another go, but Vickery didn’t move. Like most bullies, he had a glass jaw. One hit and he was unconscious. Will sat back on his heels feeling supremely disappointed.
“Damn, Bud,” Cayla Martin said. She was standing at the busted-open front door. She had a Taser gun pointed at Will’s chest.
The M26-C carried a compressed-nitrogen air cartridge that shot two tiny barbed probes up to fifteen feet away. The probes were attached to insulated conducting wires. The wires were attached to eight double-A batteries that delivered up to fiftythousand volts of electricity. Enough juice to cause complete neuromuscular incapacitation.
Will lunged for Vickery’s gun, but he wasn’t fast enough to outrun the nitrogen charge. The probes dug into the back of his neck.
He was unconscious before he hit the floor.
15.
FIVE DAYS BEFORE THE RAID
LENA LAID BACK on the table
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