“I was sort of expecting a lot of activity tonight,” Bogart remarked into his phone. “Did Harris make it back?” There was a pause. He sighed with relief. “Yeah, I’m glad to hear. Just waiting for the bomb to drop, that’s all. Any minute now, they’re going to make the discovery--”
Bogart’s attention shifted to the house. Several men were seen running around in a state of panic.
“I think they discovered the switch,” Bogart remarked. “I’d better make an appearance.” He paused at something said on the phone and again glanced at the house. “No, I’m fine. I don’t need an extraction, and I certainly don’t need a rescue team. My cover is one hundred percent intact. It’ll look like Harris escaped on his own. I made sure I covered my tracks. Gotta go.”
Bogart disconnected the call and hurried back to the house while perfecting his clueless, country boy look as he ran into Decker and the guards bustling about.
“What’s going on?” Bogart asked.
“Prisoner escaped,” Decker announced in a tone that was gruffer than usual.
“Do you think he’s still on the grounds?” Bogart asked and looked around. “How much of a head start? Want me to check out the back acreage?”
“No, he’s long gone by now,” Decker informed him. “We have bigger problems. Feds are going to be crawling up our ass any minute now.”
“What do you want me to do?” Bogart asked.
“Greet them when they arrive,” Decker informed him. “You don’t know anything anyway. Show them around. They won’t find anything. The detention cell has been scrubbed.”
“Okay, I’m on it,” Bogart replied.
As Bogart turned and headed for the house, a tiny smirk crossed his face. The sound of police sirens was heard as they approached the mansion, catching Bogart’s attention and wiping the smile from his face.
“Well, Harris,” Bogart muttered to himself and cocked his head. “It would seem someone on your payroll gave our friends a little head’s up.”
§
It was just before midnight as Bogart watched the last of the federal agents drive down the long driveway without finding anything or making a single arrest. Harris hadn’t seen the faces of any of the men involved in his abduction and had nothing concrete on any one man. He could show them the room in the basement, which had already been cleaned up for the feds’ arrival. Harris had been hoping to find something, but there was nothing to see as Bogart had attested. Being they were still working on the backup generator, they couldn’t even show any security footage that would indicate Harris had been in the mansion. Not that it would matter. The mansion guards would have deleted any evidence long before they arrived.
Once the feds were gone, Bogart sat out front on a half wall just far enough from the main entrance that he could talk on his cell phone without being overheard by anyone. Bogart seemed a little out of place at the elegant mansion setting in his faded jeans and worn cowboy boots. Although only two stories, the mansion took up a large area and resembled a fort with tall walls and sturdy doors. Despite being early fall, the landscaping still contained much of its beauty and even some flowers. The fountain in the center of the circular driveway dwarfed most fountains found in parks. It was almost fifteen feet tall with several levels and an angel on top, but Bogart wasn’t interested in checking out the scenery. He just needed privacy with his phone call.
“Our friends just left,” Bogart announced into his cell phone. “Everything is still running smoothly and on schedule.” He then heard voices around the side of the house near the garage area. Bogart kept his cell phone to his ear as he headed for the side of the house. “Wait. Something’s happening. Decker sounds pissed.”
“Find Bogart,” Decker’s angry voice demanded. “I want to know where he was between six and seven this evening!”
“Crap,” Bogart muttered into his phone. “Maybe I didn’t cover my tracks as well as I’d thought.” There was a moment’s pause as the person on the other end spoke. “No, I’ve got this. When it comes to running cons, I’m in my element.” He hesitated and again listened on the phone. “No, I’ve got this. I don’t need extraction.”
Bogart disconnected his call, placed his cell phone in his jacket pocket, and headed around back to the gazebo where several men had gathered.
“Someone call for me?” Bogart announced with his best country boy grin.
Decker approached Bogart with a look of rage, pulled his semiautomatic, and aimed it at Bogart’s face. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand?” he snarled.
Bogart stared at the gun pointed only a foot from his forehead and attempted not to panic. “I didn’t touch your imported brandy,” he announced. “That was all Marv.”
One of the men, apparently Marv, stared at Bogart with astonishment then cast a nervous look at Decker’s profile. “I did not touch your brandy!”
Decker didn’t take his eyes or his gun off Bogart and maintained his sneer. “I’m not talking about my brandy,” he demanded. “Bennington said he was jumped by the fed in the detention cell around six o’clock when the security cameras conveniently stopped working. Kicked in the face by a man’s booted foot.” Decker cocked his head and raised his arrogant brows. “The fed was barefoot when we tied him up. So I’m only going to ask you once before putting a bullet in your skull. Where were you between six and seven this evening? You’re the only man whose whereabouts can’t be confirmed during that hour.”
Zoey appeared near the entrance of the gazebo. Decker immediately lowered his weapon and attempted to conceal it from her view, although she’d obviously seen it when she first arrived. Apparently, it was something she’d seen before, but her father still wanted the men to pretend she knew nothing and that they were all innocent.
“I saw him a little after six when I walked out on dinner this evening,” Zoey announced to Decker, then cast a stern look at Bogart. “I can tell you exactly where he was and what he was doing.”
She had Decker’s full attention now. Zoey seemed tense and nodded, indicating she wanted to speak privately with Decker. Decker holstered his weapon and approached the young woman. As she spoke confidentially with him, Decker suddenly exploded in rage. Bogart immediately tensed. If Zoey had skipped dinner with the family, it was possible she was somewhere unexpected and actually saw him slipping Harris out to the garage. Zoey then said something to Decker, which silenced his outburst but increased his hostility. Bogart flinched at the look of rage on the intimidating man’s face. The remaining men positioned their hands on their weapons while casting looks between Decker and Bogart. Bogart knew it was possible he was a dead man.
Chapter 5
Six hours later. It was six o’clock in the morning, Colorado time. A large, muscular man sat quietly in the dimly lit room with a look of disgust on his stern face. Kirk Mandel was a large, muscle-bound man in his mid-thirties and stood an imposing six-foot-four. He had broad shoulders, a large chest, and biceps the size of tree trunks that were barely hidden beneath his tight, black shirt. His buzz cut and thick facial stubble made him look moderately intimidating, although undeniably handsome. His mostly serious look conveyed he wasn’t someone to be messed with and that his muscles weren’t just for show. Kirk listened as his two comrades lightly argued, which was nothing new for Beck and Monroe.
Beck Larue was a ruggedly handsome man in his mid-thirties with short, light brown hair. He stood over six feet tall and maintained an impressive athletic build. Although his kind, hazel eyes begged to be trusted, he had a somewhat superior air about him. Despite his charming appeal, he was devilishly smart and relied on his intelligence over his charm. The man he argued with, Monroe Dallas, was a tall, lanky man in his mid-thirties with more of an athletic build than muscular. His light brown hair was neatly trimmed, and his handsome face mostly clean-shaven. Monroe seemed the type of man who took pride in his appearance, and he had an innocent sort of appeal, which often allowed most to put their guard down around him. The two m
en continued their curt exchange, talking over each other, obviously annoyed about something.
“Will the two of you give it a rest?” Kirk finally snarled, lacking any patience with either man.
“You know, it’s moments like these where I miss Zack,” Beck announced almost casually.
“I know I’d feel a lot better knowing Zack or Jackie were close by,” Monroe added.
Kirk turned his head and glared at the two men not far from him. Both men were zip-tied to their respective chairs. “If the two of you don’t shut up, when I get free, I’m coming over there and killing you both.”
Beck and Monroe eyed the large man zip-tied to his own chair within the mansion’s basement detention cell.
“Well, this is partially your fault,” Beck casually insisted to the large man.
Kirk glared at Beck with a look meant to kill. “My fault?” he demanded. “How the hell is this my fault?”
“I said partially,” Beck corrected.
“Personally, I blame Ross and Gil,” Monroe remarked matter-of-factly. “Ross should know better than to leave us unsupervised, and Gil abandoned us while trying to reconcile with his wife for the one-hundredth time.”
“Ex-wife,” Beck corrected.
“We don’t know that they ever officially divorced after their last ‘impromptu’ wedding,” Monroe reminded him.
“If Bogart is still alive, I’m going to kill him,” Kirk muttered under his breath and then made another effort to fight the zip ties binding him to the chair.
They could hear the sounds of men laughing in the corridor. All three fell silent and listened. The door opened. A guard entered the room with Bogart only a step behind him. All three had to be surprised to see Bogart alive and well, but they didn’t react to his presence while in the company of the guard.
“Who are they?” Bogart asked the guard while eyeing his bound teammates. “Are they feds?” His mocking grin was enough to enrage all three of his captured friends.
“No idea. They’re not carrying any ID,” the guard remarked. “The boss wants to keep them alive for now. We may need them as a bargaining chip if the feds return.”
“Makes sense,” Bogart replied and again eyed all three. He then met Kirk’s gaze. “Who do you work for?”
“Fuck off,” Kirk snarled.
Bogart kicked Kirk in the chest, mildly stunning him with the move. Jackie had been teaching her brother well, although Kirk’s look was even more hostile now. The guard snickered, amused by Bogart’s response to the large man.
Bogart then eyed the guard. “Mind if I ask them a few questions? See what I can get out of them?”
“Knock yourself out,” the guard replied, then indicated the lifeless camera. “Since we’re still running on the backup generator, it’s not as if anyone will witness it. Just don’t kill any of them.”
“Don’t worry,” Bogart teased and grinned. “I’m going to ask nicely.”
The guard laughed and left the room, shutting the door behind him. All three men glared at Bogart as his look immediately turned stern.
“What the hell--?” Bogart demanded in a hushed shout. “I told you I was fine.”
“Just get us out of here,” Beck remarked and indicated the zip-ties.
“I can’t do that,” Bogart replied.
“You’d better,” Kirk snarled in response.
“Things were a little tense here before you guys showed up,” Bogart insisted while shaking his head. “Now, they’re on high alert. I made some calls, but Gil’s about five hours out. You’re going to have to sit tight until he gets here. Once he’s here, we’ll coordinate a rescue.”
“We were supposed to rescue you,” Monroe scoffed.
“Now that’s your own fault, isn’t it?” Bogart insisted and shot a glare at Monroe. “I told you I was fine. By the time Gil arrives, I’m hoping to have the flash drive, and we can all leave together. I won’t have you guys ruining six weeks’ worth of undercover work. Not when I’m so close to getting what I came for.”
“We thought your cover was blown with Harris,” Beck remarked.
A strange and twisted smile crossed Bogart’s face. “Turns out ‘daddy’s little girl’ provided me with an alibi,” Bogart announced with some humor. “She told Reeves’s second in command that we were together when Harris escaped.”
“Why would she lie?” Monroe asked with surprise.
Bogart grinned almost slyly. “What can I say? She’s hot for me, and I was more than willing to indulge her fantasy,” he teased.
“I thought you were cleaning up your bad-boy reputation,” Beck remarked.
Bogart eyed him and considered the comment, then grinned. “I am,” he replied, “but she did save my ass.” His grin then increased. “And she’s really hot.” Bogart then looked at his watch. “That reminds me. She’ll be waking up soon looking for round three.” He cocked his head. “And I don’t want to disappoint her. So you three just sit tight while I go upstairs and have hot, shower sex.”
All three watched Bogart hurry from the room. Kirk then sneered while Monroe and Beck shook their heads.
“We get to sit here and cool our heels for five hours while Bogart gets laid,” Monroe muttered. “I swear, I’m doing something wrong.”
“Can’t exactly blame him,” Kirk muttered and received looks from his teammates. He glanced back at them and shrugged without care. “I’d do the same thing if I were in his position.”
§
Colorado, noon Mountain Time. Jackie’s helicopter landed at the private terminal within the Colorado Springs Airport. The terminal was little more than a small building containing a lounge for private passengers and pilots, restrooms, and vending machines. Other outer buildings housed private planes belonging to locals. Many other small planes were outside the buildings. The helicopter barely touched down when Zack sprang out the side door and started the task of refueling while Jackie finished shutting down. Holden sat in the co-pilot’s seat and watched Zack dart for the pumps like the pit crew at Indianapolis Speedway. Holden wearily ran his fingers through his hair and groaned.
“How does he do it?” Holden finally asked. “He has twenty years on me, he’s probably hungover, and he still runs circles around me. Five hours in a helicopter, and I’m exhausted.”
“Well, you do spend quite a bit of time behind your desk at work,” Jackie remarked while slyly eyeing her husband. “And then there are those Sundays on the couch.”
“Only during football season,” Holden insisted in his own defense. “And I’ve seen Zack planted on our sofa for an entire weekend with only the occasional bathroom break.”
“Speaking of bathroom breaks,” Jackie announced and opened her door. “I’m going to the little girls’ room.”
“I’ll get us some drinks from the lounge, but first, I’d better check my voice messages from work,” Holden replied while removing his cell phone. He then cast a quick look at her. “Zack’s going home tonight, right?”
Jackie withheld her cringe. She hated when Holden asked her that question. She knew it meant he was ready to spend time at home without Zack hanging around.
“I’ll contact the guys and see who’s around,” she replied, then dreaded the words that followed. “If no one can come for him, I may have to fly him to the lodge.”
Her husband’s reaction was precisely as she had anticipated.
“You’re not flying to the lodge and back today after that long trip from Maine,” Holden insisted.
Jackie didn’t comment as she jumped from the helicopter. She then gave him a look and raised her brows, more or less indicating he should pick his poison. She already knew what his response would be. When he didn’t reply, she turned and headed toward the private terminal building.
Holden groaned and shook his head as he watched Jackie enter the terminal. “He’s going to end up staying the entire week with us. I just know it,” he muttered, then got out on his side.
A few minutes later, Jackie retur
ned from the private terminal with her cell phone in her hand and a puzzled look on her face. Zack was still refueling the helicopter when she approached him. He gave her a curious look.
“Something wrong?” Zack asked.
“I tried calling everyone, and no one’s answering,” Jackie reported while remaining deep in thought. It wasn’t normal to get no response from anyone.
“Did you try the satellite phone at the lodge?” Zack then asked.
It was a silly question. Of course, she tried the lodge. “No one answered there either,” she informed him. “I’m going to try Gil on his helicopter radio.”
Jackie climbed inside the helicopter, flipped a switch, and placed her headset on.
“Eagle One, this is Reaper, you copy?” she announced as Zack approached the open helicopter door.
Zack casually rested his lower arms across her leg that was dangling from the open door. She was used to physical contact with Zack, even though he wasn’t the physical type with others on the team. There was a loud, shrill, piercing sound in her ears over the headset. Jackie yanked off the headset with a startled gasp.
Zack straightened, having heard the sound through the headset as well. “What is it?”
She gave him a slightly baffled look. “Gunfire, I think.” Jackie threw another switch, and the radio crackled loudly, allowing both to hear the noise. “Gil, you copy?”
They heard the loud sound again. Gil’s voice then came across the radio, although somewhat static-filled.
“Uh, hey, Jackie,” Gil announced almost casually. “Can’t really talk at the moment. We’re taking on some heavy gunfire.”
Jackie felt her heart pounding with anxiety. “What’s your twenty?” she just about demanded.
“About half a klick west of Bogart’s little covert operation at Reeves’s mansion,” Gil reported.
Witness Protection 9: S.N.A.F.U. Page 4
