Page 53 of Dollhouse

Uncle Aiden, however, never stops before speaking his mind.

“You’re too close to this, Noah. I can’t trust you to think with a clear mind. Let us figure this out.”

I ignore him. “Ryan, tell me you’ve seen them.”

He shakes his head. “Can’t. But I’m working on it.”

My teeth grind. Fuck it. Fuck all of it. I’m leaving and kicking in the front door of every building Bundy has ever walked in—on my own if needed.

I go to stand but Ryan cuts me off. “You need more information,” he says. “Listen, Noah.” My eyes narrow at histone, but I pause. I can at least hear whatever he has to say before I go.

“Before, we were under the impression that Bundy’s network was filled with diehard loyalists, right? People who would never dream of going up against him. Let’s look at it like this,” he says, pulling out a hand drawn map on a scrap of paper. “Yes, he owns a ton of properties in this area, but the majority of them are empty or used as flats to host some of his higher clients, yeah? And not all of them are participating in the trafficking. Some are just legit business clients and friends. No reinforcements, no security. We cross those off our list.”

He points to two bigger boxes that are close to each other on the map. “There are really only two main buildings he uses to keep the people they traffic. These two, I’ve marked the locations. I work at this one and they aren’t there. Tomorrow I should know about the second one. Obviously I’ll let you know as soon as I can confirm.”

“The most important information we need to have is how many men we are going up against. No matter how much we plan, if he has some fuckin’ army, we’re not surviving that. We know he has dangerous contacts he can call if needed,” Aiden says, pulling the map toward himself to scour.

“True, but a large portion of those people he associates with are on the very outer edge. They're straddling having a very clean public persona while also keeping their association with Bundy. We’re talking about our politicians, law enforcement, those types. They pull strings for him behind the scenes, but if things were to go south for him they would absolutely not risk their own image.” Ryan leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. “He’s recently started uncovering plots on his own life, likely men who’ve come too close to his dealings and are terrified what will happen if he spills the beans. It’s made him jumpy.”

He nods at the map, where Aiden studies the two main houses. “These are your focus. I work the slave bay at the bigger one. You’ve seen the videos. Victims are kept locked up so they don’t need as many guards to maintain control. There’s probably 15-20 men working in each building at one time, so we can easily handle taking that one down just by fuckin’ coming in hot. The only problem with that is if they’re able to get some kind of signal to building two before we control the first one.

“Any way to cut communication first?” my dad cuts in.

“I’m sure there is. I’ll lead this group, it will be easy to hit the leaders first. They’ll be the only ones who have direct contact with Bundy and building two.”

“Are these buildings isolated?” I ask.

“These ones are, yes.”

“I'm failing to see why we are waiting, when we could absolutely handle one building at a time and finish this shit tonight”

He sighs. “Noah, I understand your impatience here but a plan is necessary for all the things that can go wrong.”

“I’m not sure what you’re saying. How long are you wanting to make a plan for?”

“Let's give it a week, and I can tip off as many of the victims as I can. I can give you a signal when I know that Bundy is in the same place as Emma and Bo and we can try to hit both places at once. It will be quicker and less chance of losing our men if we do it that way.”

Before I can veto that timeline, vibrations sound all around the table. Wary looks pass between everyone in the room as I pull out my phone, several others doing the same.

A message from an unknown number, devoid of any contact information, has been dropped out of nowhere onto all of our devices. Every fucking phone in this house is going off.

The worst scenarios I’d allowed myself to consider could not prepare me for what is on my screen.

I gave you a pass for the murder of the man that was left behind in your house, a free kill if you will. Consider this your warning for my missing client. If a single one of your men comes for one of mine again, she will be put down like a fucking dog.

As the attachment plays, the world falls away. I must be in hell. The audio staggers on everyone’s phones, a demented horror film starring my Angel and the demons I will tear to fucking pieces with my bare hands.

While we sit here making plans and talking hypotheticals, she’s beingtorturedin real time. My fuckingbaby, being used and abused by Bundy’s men. Her face screams disassociation and terror and I'll never be able to go back to a time when it isn’t carved into my brain.

I look up at Ryan, a hurricane in my ears as people react around me. He’s looking at me like he already knows I’m about to fucking lose it. “Noah?—”

“A week isn’t happening.”

“Besmart.” He runs his hand through his short hair, frustrated with me. “You need to give me a chance to check that she’s there before we storm in?—”

I pull a gun from my waistband like I’m pulling out my wallet. Casual. Nonchalant. I’m losing my goddamn mind here. I hold it in his direction with my hand on the table. “You have two hours.”

“Jesus Christ, Noah,” Dad starts, a terrified look in his eyes. “You are going to get yourself killed.”