“Zyah has changed the locks again, according to the police reports, to the kind where you have to punch in an actual code,” Code informed them. “She’s not taking chances.”
“What are we going to do about these thieves, Czar?” Destroyer asked. His voice was mild, very soft. Very quiet. Still, his tone carried a deadly note in it.
Czar sighed. “No matter what, whether Zyah works for us or not, whether she belongs to Player or not, we can’t have a group of brutal robbers preying on the elderly in our neighborhood. Although getting involved with the cops watching could be risky. And some of the neighbors aren’t going to like us watching at night if they spot us. We could be the ones accused. We’d have to take shifts, and Code would have to figure out who might become a target. That would stretch us pretty thin trying to cover them all. This is a fairly wealthy community to retire in.”
“It doesn’t matter if they have money or not,” Savage said. “If they live in Sea Haven or even here in Caspar, the assholes are going to think they have money.”
“If we take this on, we have to put everything else on hold. We have no idea how many homes we’re going to have to watch,” Steele said. “Player and Master risked a lot to bring back that intel on the Ghosts. We could lose them again if we don’t act.”
“That’s true,” Keys agreed, “but on the other hand, this group, whoever they are, aren’t simply robbing these people, which would be bad enough—they’re beating the crap out of them.”
“They’re escalating the attacks if they’re the same ones,” Code said. “It’s my best guess as well as the computer’s that it’s them. The MO is too close in every case I’ve looked at.”
“I just glanced over the file Code has here, and running the numbers, I have to say I’m with Code—the odds are good that these people are the same ones moving from small village or town to the next,” Master said. “They always choose very small towns with no real law enforcement presence and hit hard and get out. They simply fade away. No one seems to have a clue who they are.”
“This is bullshit,” Destroyer snapped, his tone low, almost husky, as if his voice had been as scarred as his oncehandsome face. He crossed his arms over his chest. He was a very big man, and the look on his face was one of disgust. “If the club isn’t going to take this on, I will anyway. I’m not leaving these old people to the wolves.”
There was instant silence. Czar’s piercing gaze swung to Destroyer. “That’s not the way it works in this club. When you came to me and laid it on the line, I went out on a limb for you. I took your request to the others and laid it out to them, and they took you in on faith. On my belief in you.”
Destroyer shook his head. “I spent a lot of years in prison, in solitary. Alone. When I wasn’t alone, I was fighting for my life or my sanity. I don’t know, Czar. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the chance you gave me, but—”
“Destroyer,” Savage stopped him before he could say any more. He took off his cut and laid it on the table. “Have you ever really looked at this? Have you ever asked yourself what it meant? There were two hundred and eighty-seven children entering that school, if you want to call it a school. Count in you and your sister, that’s two hundred and eighty-nine. Counting you, nineteen of us survived that hellhole.”
Player was shocked that Savage was fighting for Destroyer to stay. Savage wasn’t one who spent a lot of time arguing one side or the other on any issue. He had his opinion, expressed it succinctly and then waited for the others to discuss it. The club members really didn’t know Destroyer that well. Only Czar knew much about him. He had been taken, like the rest of them, from his home and trained to be an asset for their government, but in another school to begin with. He had been brought to their school as a form of punishment. Or, more precisely, for Sorbacov’s amusement.
He pitted Destroyer against Ice and Storm in a series of challenges Sorbacov’s guests could watch and bet on while they “entertained” themselves with Alena and Destroyer’s sister, Calina. The winner of the series of challenges would be able to leave the schools and return to the outside world—or at least that was Sorbacov’s lie. Destroyer had won, and he and his sister had disappeared, never to be seen or heard from again, until he showed up as a member of the Trinity club asking to be patched over to Torpedo Ink. He didn’t fit with the Trinity club. He didn’t seem to fit anywhere.