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“What about Victor? How will we get to the kids without running into him? That might set him off or do something worse and set off the bombs with an alternate detonator,” Mal asks as she extends her hand to take my last piece of cinnamon bun. My hand twitches to swat it away, but I relent. Sharing is caring and all.
“Better question.” I lean forward. “How will we get those bombs deactivated?” Unless he has a bomb expert on hand, there's no solid plan.
Ronan nods to Boone. “Boone. He's a bomb tech. He knows what to do.”
“Enough to deactivate multiple bombs in one sitting?”
“I’m qualified for a reason,” Boone responds in a monotone voice, tilting his head toward me slowly.
“Hmm. Okay.” I nod in agreement, also because I would rather not question his credentials there.
“Now that we have that out of the way. My question,” Wicked cuts in.
“About that,” Ronan says, leaning in his seat, with his elbow on the armrest while the pad of his thumb fingers his chin hair. “Victor believes we are dead.”
Here we go.
“What?” Mal says incredulously, head cocked to the side and brows raised so high the lines of creases are visible.
“He thinks we are dead?” Her voice slightly increased her brain’s processing of the news.
I nod my head. “Yes, dead. D. E. A—”
Mal nudges my arm with her shoulder. “I know how to spell it, ass wipe.”
Boone grazes his knuckles. “What does this mean?” he questions.
Ronan tips his brow. “This may seem strange and unconventional, but we can use this to our advantage. Bedford.” Ronan nods his chin at Bedford, who began shuffling through his bag on the floor beside him. He finds the item shaped like a smartphone and hands it to Ronan.
“You’re welcome,” he adds with a closed lip smile. Ronan gives a slow eye drag to Bedford. Eye code for ‘stop while you’re ahead.’ As he goes back to setting up the phone, I hear Bedford snicker, which only further lightens the mood.
“Last night, Boone was successful in slipping the tracking device into Victor's suit pocket.” He swipes his pointer and middle finger upward on the screen in the direction of the hologram. It’s displayed with a transparent background, yellow lines, and a red dot beeping on one designated spot. “Wherever he left that jacket. That is where he is.”
My heart leaps with a thrill; my eyes glistening like diamonds under a magnifying glass. “We can sneak up on him at any given time.”
“Exactly.” Ronan cuts his eyes to me with the same sinister spark.I like this already.
“How can we trust this device? What if he is tracking us instead?” Mal asks, glancing from Ronan to Bedford.
“Unless he can find a miniature chip that’s smaller than his pinky nail and know how to decrypt an encrypted code, then no, he cannot track us,” Bedford says smartly, tilting his head at her.
Duck lips form on her face. “Know it all.”
He goes back to his laptop. “I know.”
I pull my bangs away from my face. “And what about the kids? How do we intend to get to them before Vic-the-bitch does something stupid?”
“We are going to pay Mr. Jaxson here a little visit. He knows the terms. To get his daughter back, he needs to get us to the hostages.” Ronan swipes the phone again, switching to a full-length collage of all the kidnaped kids. A burn aches in my heart, seeing these innocent children taken from their comfort.
“How can we trust this asshole? Are we sure he’s not playing us like toys to lure us into something we can’t get ourselves out of?” Boone adds in, cracking his back.
“Nah. I know when someone is bullshitting. He’s desperate. The desperation on his face was unbearable; he nearly begged us to help him.” Ronan points out swiftly.
Boone lets out a loud sigh, sitting back, his wide shoulders covering the entire seat.
“It’s true. If he was willing to kill the men to get to us, that speaks volume in itself,” I say, circling my nail on the table.
“Yeah, sadly, desperate men do desperate things. Who’s to say he won’t do the same thing to us?” Mal’s face twists into a sneer.