The Dangerous Curves Series

Chapter 95

There was a filthy bundle on the floor, and King's heart actually stopped when he saw a tiny hand peeking out from the blankets. He kicked the door closed behind him and locked it, holstered his gun and ripped off the Kevlar. He crossed the room in three paces, fell to his knees next to the baby. Gently, so gently, he plucked Freddie from the stinking blankets, and settled him against his chest.

“Hey, little man,” he murmured. “Come on now... make a sound for me, OK?”

Freddie's face was scarily pale, his breathing deep and slow. King felt his pulse, noticing how huge his fingers were on the baby's delicate neck; it was sluggish and he felt his own heart rate spike with worry.

“Guys?” he said. “We clear?”

“Clear,” Tank said. “Me and Honey just did a sweep. We're good.”

“I'm coming out now. I've got him.”

Sighs of relief were breathed in his ear and he opened the door slowly, nodded when he saw Tex standing there.

“How is he?” Tex said.

“Drugged.”

Tex clenched his hands. “Can we kick their f*****g heads in some more?”

“Yep. I was just thinking the same thing. And call in that ambulance.”

“Copy that, boss.”

King walked into a large room. It stank of cigarettes and booze and he was shocked, yet again, at the stupidity at play here. No professional got drunk on the job, and he eyed the four bleeding men with more than his usual rancor. He cradled Freddie closer, wanting the baby to feel his body heat and hear his heart, even if he was so far under that he didn't even know to cry.

“What the f**k did you give him?” King heard the fury in his own voice. “No dicking around now, boys.”

They looked down and away, and King narrowed his eyes at them.

“Knox?” He was quiet now. “Take him, OK? Check him?”

Knox took Freddie from his arms and everyone watched as he tenderly laid the tiny, limp body on Tank's coat. Knox checked his breathing, listened to his heart, lifted his eyelids. The whole time, King kept his eyes nailed on the four men.

“He's definitely been drugged,” Knox said. “But it's wearing off now. Strong heartbeat, good breathing sounds.”

“He's OK?” King said.

“Yeah.”

“Lucky for you,” he said to the men. “So now I can ask you a few questions about your employer. Is that cool with you guys?”

“f**k you,” said the one with the biggest death wish. “We ain't telling you shit.”

King approached him now, watched the man's eyes get big in his face. The men were sitting at a long table that was scattered with playing cards and empty beer bottles. Their hands were tied behind their backs, and they were dripping blood all over the damn place. King figured a bit more damage couldn't hurt at this point.

He stood right behind the bigmouth. “I'll ask again. Who hired you to watch this baby?”

“And I said –”

King slammed the man's face onto the table, heard a crunch as his nose shattered. He lifted the man by his greasy hair and paused.

“I'm sorry,” King said. “What was that last part?”

The man wailed, and King rolled his eyes. f*****g amateurs.

“You going to tell me, or do I need to knock out a few teeth?”

The man shook his head wildly. “No... no, don't!”

“You want to talk, then?”

“I can't! I don't know jack! I'm just the wheels man!”

“So which one of you does know jack?”

The man indicated with his chin to the guy at the end of the row. “Him!”

“Thank you for your cooperation,” King said. He walked over to the other man now and glared at him. “Talk.”

“f**k you.”

King sighed. “Moron.” He smashed the man's face down twice. “Is that jogging your memory?”

“This is police brutality!” the i***t howled. “I'm gonna sue your asses!”

Tank laughed, the sound rolling out of his massive chest. “f**k, man. We look like cops to you?”

The men squinted up at the team now.

“You ain't cops?” said the first one.

“Not even close,” Honey said. “Which means that you got problems, boys. The cops won't come until we call them – and we won't call them until you talk. I should also call your attention to the fact that you've helped kidnap eight babies in four months, so expecting any sympathy from law enforcement is optimistic to the point of foolishness.”

They stared at her.

“And,” Tex added. “s**t happens when a bunch of people like us storm a building to rescue a baby. People get beat up, people get shot. Cops won't be too worried about that, so long as you're semi-alive and can show up for your day in court. You savvy?”

Terrified, the men nodded now, and King almost heaved a sigh of relief. They'd tell him who was running this operation, and he'd pass it all on to a few cops he trusted and worked with all the time, off the record. They'd do what they had to do to get hard evidence and extract confessions the legal way, the way that actually stood up in court. King's way was effective, but it wasn't the stuff of court cases, and his name never came up anywhere. King's Men never got any of the glory – and they were all just fine with that.

Hell, maybe they'd even find those other missing babies. King strongly suspected they'd been sold to shady adoption agencies, and he hoped they were safe with some family. He hated to think how hurt the adoptive parents were going to be... unless they were in on it, of course. But beyond tonight, King wasn't involved. He'd done what he'd been hired to do, and that was find Freddie Karr.

They heard a siren now and King nodded at Knox. “Take him to the ambulance and go with them to the hospital. Call his parents and have them meet you there."

“OK.” Knox carried Freddie away and King turned back to the bound, bleeding men.

“So.” He smiled at them. “Who's talking first?”