Page 19 of Hurricane Irene

“What do you wanna bet their insurance covers that for them,” frowned Frank.

“Well, the good news is the windows are gone,” said Bron. “That means we’re not breaking and entering.”

“No. We’ll just be accused of looting,” said CC. They cleared the excess glass around the massive door and just walked through, no alarms, no lights, nothing. The power was off everywhere and this place was no exception.

“Did anyone else notice the huge fence line protecting this place?” asked Bron. “Their own neighbors can’t even get near them.”

“Which is another point. Why is this business in a residential neighborhood?” asked Frank.

Standing in the main entryway, Dalton looked around them, frowning as he did. The floors were dirty, most likely from the rain that had seeped into the building through the broken windows. But everything else was gleaming, as if never used.

“Is this a shell?” asked Frank.

“No computers, no file cabinets, no furniture. It’s nothing.” Dalton turned, then looked at the other men. Taking the satellite phone that was finally working, he called back to Belle Fleur.

“What’s up, Dalton?” asked Ace.

“We need Garrett and Nash. Send them this way.”

“What are you doing?” asked Frank.

“I’m going to give them a taste of their own medicine,” said Dalton. Bron had climbed the grand staircase, searching the second floor. Then they heard him call down.

“Y’all need to get up here. Now!”

They took the stairs two at a time, racing to the second floor. They found Bron in the last room on the right, the darkness of it seemingly strange compared to the open concept of the rest of the house.

“Bron?” called Frank.

“Here,” he said flipping on the flashlight. “Anyone want to tell me why an insurance company would have a room filled chains connected to the walls?”

The men all turned their lights toward the walls, slowly working their way around the room. The chains hung loosely, wrist cuffs dangling at their ends. There were enough chains for at least a dozen people.

Bron knelt beside one set of chains. He picked up the cuffs and frowned, staring at the others.

“Blood and skin,” he said. “Someone was here recently.”

“What the fuck is happening here? An insurance company with a torture chamber. That’s a new low,” said CC.

“This room has no windows. No light. And if I’m right,” said Frank, “it’s sound-proof. Why? Why do that here?”

“I think we need to see if our insured guests were ever coaxed into signing or felt forced in some way,” said Bron.

When Garrett and Nash arrived, Frank told them what had been found inside the building.

“Can you do a controlled weather disaster?” asked CC. Garrett smiled and nodded.

“It will be our pleasure.”

With their combined abilities of controlling wind and water, the other four men stepped aside, watching the unbelievable magic of the two men take form. In the center of the lake a large water spout started, quickly turning into a water tornado.

Garrett and Nash held hands, their powers seemingly combined as the spout moved toward them. It touched nothing except what they directed it to. The spout jumped the dock, landing directly on the house destroying the stone, the structure, and the interior until there was nothing left but a concrete slab.

The spout, still carrying the debris moved back out over open water and dispersed quickly, providing a spectacle the likes most had never seen. Garrett and Nash both smirked.

“That was impressive, brother,” smiled Frank. “We took photos of the room with the chains and the entire interior. Someone is going to have to explain what happened in that building.”

“Damn,” muttered CC, “we just blew away the evidence on the handcuffs.”