Page 10 of Capture (Primal #3)

M y phone buzzed on the desk as I sat in class, and the smiling, flirty girls who liked to sit near me immediately raised their heads in curiosity to see if it was from an admirer. There was only a handful of people who had this number, so I knew it was probably the boss.

I was wrong.

It was from Gunner, who should be in class if he were doing what Mikky told him. His mother would be very disappointed if he failed this year, and I suspected he was behind in his studies. He was intelligent but lacked commitment, often grew bored, and was easily distracted.

I opened his message, but it was blank, and immediately, alarm bells went off in my head. A blank text indicated that he was in trouble. This had been common knowledge between us for years, started by Lars Kaiser. Yet, this was the first time Gunner needed to use it.

Instantly, I excused myself from class and slipped out into the hallway. Once there, I swiped for Mikky’s number and waited for him to pick up. After several dial tones, it switched over to voicemail.

“Mikky, they’ve got him,” I swiped to end the call, then switched the tracker on my phone to see where they’ve taken him.

We knew they’d take his phone off him, so we stitched the tracker into the hem of his underwear. They’re likely to pat him down, searching for a weapon, but they’d have to strip search him to find the tracker. I hoped they didn’t do that because that might be the end of him.

Katerina Ivanov had been hanging around like a bad smell since the beginning of the term.

We knew she created a fake ID for Annika, and we also knew that was a setup.

What we hadn’t quite joined the dots with was whether Ivanov knew who Riley was or was using her as a mule in some way, since Gunner had taken so much interest in her.

It was like dropping a trail of breadcrumbs to our Russian enemies so that we could entice them into our trap.

My only concern was that they don’t hurt him.

We predicted that they'd use him as bait, so we’d come running to rescue him, and then they’d bamboozle us in some way.

Or they might want a trade. Gunner in exchange for money or territory.

These guys were so predictable that we knew they’d send their little geek to follow Gunner, and we also suspected that campus would be where they’d kidnap him because he was more likely to be alone and easy to corner.

Mikky: Have you got a trace on him?

I breathed a sigh of relief when Mikky finally replied, as I couldn’t possibly pursue and achieve our objective without his help.

Me: It’s working, but it’s not giving me a location yet. I’m on my way to my car right now.

Mikky: Keep me posted.

My feet started pounding the cement, heading quickly toward the parking lot, yet my instincts were telling me that they hadn’t left campus yet. The college landscape was huge, so discreetly moving their luggage in daylight without raising suspicions would be possible but difficult.

I could see the top of the roof of my vehicle parked in the third row, then checked the map on the tracker to find that it was highlighting a location. My hunch was correct. They’re still on campus.

Me: They’re still here. Near the headquarters, in the basement under the science library.

Mikky: Are you armed?

Me: Yes.

Mikky: I’m on my way. Don’t do anything until I get there.

Keeping that promise might be difficult.

Mikael didn’t usually do the dirty work, but maybe prison changed him.

We had men we called upon, faceless and nameless, dangerous men who slit throats and fired bullets, then retreated to the shadows again.

Like the guy I hired to wipe out the drug dealer who was grooming and selling his shit to our girls.

These men were paid extremely well to be loyal to a fault and to keep their mouths shut.

It could be the guy in a suit you walk past in the fruit aisle in the grocery store, or it could be the guy who fixed your vehicle at the garage.

Their contact numbers were on my secret phone that I kept in the back of my locked desk drawer.

Mikky knew this, and I left it up to him whether or not to call them, as I knew, after the recent incidents and suspicions surrounding Betty, that he might have lost confidence in whom to trust.

I unlocked my vehicle and grabbed my Glock from under the seat, checked that it was loaded, and slotted it into my belt. Then, I slipped on a black jacket to conceal it.

Checking the vicinity to see if anyone was watching, I walked quickly to the top of the parking lot, still checking the area to make sure I wasn’t being followed.

They watch my apartment, so they’d watch me here too.

And you get used to it. It’s always on your mind to be careful about what you say and do in public because they’d be taking notes to use against you.

The tracker showed that they were still in the basement under the science library.

That was a problem for me. There was only one way into the basement, but two ways to access the hallway that led to the basement – the library served as the main entrance, and the fire exit at the end of the hall was the other way in or out.

So, it was impossible to slip into the basement unnoticed.

There was a chill in the air caused by low cloud that made it feel later than it was, and an icy shiver graced the back of my neck.

As I walked around the corner of an admin building, I glanced behind to see if anyone was following.

It looked clear, so I kept my pace walking directly toward the science library.

It’s busy. Students were everywhere, getting in my way. Fuck, they don’t even look before they step out onto the path because their heads are down, staring at their phone. Easy kills exposing the back of their necks. Brainwashed fuckwits.

I tried to stay off the main paths, but sometimes it was impossible. Every time I heard footsteps behind me, I scrutinized who it was. If I were being followed, it wasn’t obvious.

The science library was in sight, and I patted my gun under my jacket for assurance before entering the library and scanning the area, searching for anyone who looked suspicious.

It seemed pretty normal in there, but the staff must’ve seen Gunner being dragged through the place to the ‘staff only’ exit and then down the stairs to the basement.

I was tempted to ask one librarian who was at the information desk, as most of the staff there knew who we were and why we had entered the ‘staff only’ area.

As I approached the desk, she looked up, and then as soon as she clocked who I was, that smile disappeared.

“Has anyone gone down there?” I pointed to the door behind her.

She swallowed nervously, then nodded.

“How many people saw them go through here?” I asked curiously, glancing at three students climbing the stairs leading to the first floor.

Then my gaze drifted to a guy leaning over the railing, looking down at us, having a conversation.

He wasn’t there a few seconds ago. A wry smirk was on his ugly face as he shot a casual salute as if to say, ‘we gotcha.’

We’ll see. I wouldn’t bet on that.

“Not sure,” the librarian shrugged as she glanced up at that man, as fear flashed in her eyes.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I found it was a message from Mikky.

Mikky: Received intel. They want to make a deal. Where are you at?

Me: Standing right outside where they’re keeping him.

As soon as I sent the message, I checked the tracker to find that they were on the move again. I hovered by the door and swiped for Mikky’s number, and as soon as he answered, I could tell by the background sounds that he was driving.

“They’re on the move,” I told him. “What do you want me to do?”

“Pull back and watch from undercover,” he asserted. Don’t let them see you.”

“Ah, too late,” I informed him as I glanced up at the guy at the top of the stairs, who had his phone against his ear. Reading his expression, I saw that he was being informed that they were leaving.

“Have they seen you?” he asked unconcerned.

“Yeah, I’ve been spotted by one of them. He’s watching me now,” I stated, turning my back to head toward the main exit.

“They won’t do anything to you until a deal is made,” he reported. “And they won’t dare touch a hair on Gunner’s head, unless I don’t agree to their demands.”

“And what are they demanding?” I asked him as I opened the glass swing door and stepped outside.

“Don’t know yet,” he mumbled, again unconcerned.

“I’m betting on territory,” I proposed. “Maybe they want the club back.”

He scoffed. “Well, they’re not getting it.”

“Maybe you could trade Betty for Gunner,” I suggested.

“They can have Betty for free, considering that I’m about eighty percent sure she’s working for them,” he stated confidently. “Got Danny to dig up some dirt on her.”

“Only eighty?” I questioned.

“Yeah, I have more questions than answers, and I’m open to Danny proving me right or wrong,” he exhaled as I could see the indicator on his SUV.

“Alright,” I leaned against the wall of a building in good view of the main entrance and the emergency exit, outside the library, waiting to see if they’re coming out,” I informed him.

“What about the little liar? Maybe we should hand her over to the Russians in exchange for Gunner,” he proposed, and a sensation as if an icy cold hand clasped the back of my neck struck me as he spoke.

I hated my selkie being the cause of Mikky’s and Gunner’s grief, yet I couldn’t deny how I felt about her. No matter how much I fought against it, I was in deep over her.

“I’m kidding, Ronan,” Mikky’s voice down the line responded to my silence.

“What would the Russians do with her?” I argued. “She’s no use to them.”

He sighed. “I agree. She’s more use to us .”

My chest tightened at his words. Something had changed, yet I hadn’t put my finger on what exactly. What did he mean that Annika was more used to us? Use her as bait to extract more information from the staff, or utilize her for something else?

“As I said before,” Mikky’s voice was stern. “You and Gunner need to get over her. Move on. Find someone more suitable.”

I exhaled to relax the brick in my chest. “I don’t know if I can do that,” I told him honestly.

I expected him to give me one of his little talks about loyalty or a warning about how important my job was, but instead, he grunted as if resigning to losing the battle of the hearts. Or maybe it wasn’t the time for another lecture, but something had changed in him.

“I’ve spotted them,” I alerted him as men in suits standing out like giraffes in a monkey enclosure around strode out from the emergency exit at the side of the library.

In the middle of them was Gunner, black hood over his head, hands tucked into his black jeans, flanked by four men. There was no chance he could make a run for it.

He glanced up under the hood, and I knew he was searching for me, hoping that I had received his alert text.

“They’ve got our boy for sure,” I told Mikky just as Gunner caught me, then immediately dropped his head so it didn’t seem obvious.

“Alright. Don’t let your eye leave the tracker, so we can see where they take him,” Mikky directed. “Go to class and let the dust settle.”

“What? Are you serious?” I replied, astonished. I thought he’d want me to go back to the club.

“Yeah. If you’re being watched, then make sure you act normal, as you’re not bothered by them having Gunner. Nothing will piss off the Russians more than us being just a little too chilled out about this little dilemma they’ve caused,” I nodded in agreement as he spoke.

The Russian lackey who was leaning over the railing in the library walked past and again shot me a casual salute as if he believed he had us bent over a barrel.

Sure, dude.

I swiped off, slipped my phone into my pocket, and swiftly checked the tracker to see that they’re taking Gunner to the parking lot, unsurprisingly. Then I pulled away from the wall and walked in the opposite direction toward my class, as the lackey glanced back at me in surprise at my inaction.