Advance to the Rear (Strike Force Book 3)

by Desiree Holt

  “I take better care of your lady than you do,” Teo teased Marc. “Maybe I should take her home with me.”

  “’Yeah. Not happening.” Marc leaned in toward Nikki. “How you doing, babe?”

  “Okay.” She managed a smile. “The coffee helps. Staves off shock.”

  He studied her face. “I’m going to believe that if you were hurt any worse than this, as a nurse, you’d be smart enough to tell me.”

  She gave a small nod. “I wouldn’t fool around with a head injury, Marc. I’m good. Really. And I’ll put the ice back on in a minute.”

  “Okay. Slade needs to ask you about what happened when they kidnapped you, and whatever you saw and heard while you were there.”

  She repeated what she had told Marc, adding a few details she’d recalled since then.

  “They were very upset,” she told them, “because whoever picked them up had just dumped them. I got the sense that their friend being shot was what caused the change in plans. They weren’t the least bit happy about it.”

  “They didn’t happen to mention what their big plan was, did they?” Slade asked.

  “No. And I didn’t think I should ask. But like I said, they mentioned the rodeo, which I guess is a prime target.”

  “Hundreds of thousands of people,” Beau agreed, his face grim.

  “All right.” Slade took a step back. “Nikki, we have to go to the sheriff’s office and I don’t know how long we’ll be there. I’d have Teo take you to the ranch, but if they have a sketch artist there, I know they’ll ask you to sit with him or her and see if you can reconstruct the faces of the men who are on the run. Can you hang with us for a while longer? If it stretches it too much at the sheriff’s office, I’ll get Teo to ferry you to the ranch.”

  “I promise to let you know if that happens. Slade, I want to get these guys, too. I don’t know how much good I can be with sketches, but I’m willing to do my best.”

  “Great. I’ll hold you to it. Gorham’s getting your car towed to the sheriff’s office and I’m making arrangements for a rental. When you’re ready, we’ll take you new car shopping.”

  Her eyes widened. “Just like that? What am I supposed to tell my insurance company? They’ll never believe my story.”

  “We won’t be using them.”

  Marc had been watching her carefully, making sure she was as okay as she said she was. She was pale from her ordeal, and no doubt still dealing with the shock of it all, but he was so proud of the way she was holding it all together.

  “I packed up all our stuff at the cottage,” he told her, “and Teo’s putting it in the cargo hold of the helicopter as we speak.”

  “Can I ask one more thing?” She wet her lip, something he’d come to recognize as a nervous gesture.

  “Yeah, babe?”

  “At some point can someone get me a cell phone to use? They stomped on mine at the cottage.” She actually giggled. “When you called me, it really pissed them off.”

  She could giggle all she wanted, but it made Marc’s nerves twang. Something like that could have set off nerves already raw with tension, and he’d have found her body lying there, too. The thought made him sick to his stomach.

  “Assholes,” he growled. “Sure. Once we get everything taken care of and we have wheels, we can go to a store and pick out what you want.”

  “I’ve got one you can have,” Slade told her. “I always carry a couple of extra. We’ll fix you up with one when we get to the sheriff’s office.”

  Nikki blinked. “You guys carry extra phones?”

  Marc shrugged. “Don’t ask. But yeah. Not a problem.”

  “Thank you so much.” She smiled and reached out to touch her fingers to his cheek. “You take very good care of me.”

  Something deep inside him, something that had nothing to do with sex and that hadn’t been there in a long time, broke free and floated to the surface. It warmed his heart and, even in the middle of this situation, it settled his nerves.

  He shifted Nikki over and climbed in beside her while Slade buckled himself into the copilot’s seat.

  “See you in a few,” Slade yelled at the deputy, who stood watching as the rotors on the helo began to whine.

  In seconds they were lifting off and banking to the side as Teo set a course for the location Slade had handed him. Despite the seatbelts, Marc was able to reach his arm around and pull Nikki a little closer to him. The thought of what could have happened to her today made his blood freeze and his heart nearly stop. That he could have lost her made him realize that she had become far more important to him in a short period of time than he had expected. She was the first person who could pull him out of the darkness he’d been in for so long. He vowed to himself to do whatever it took to keep her safe.

  Chapter Nine

  Once they were away from the crossroads and onto the interstate, Jamal forced himself to dial back the speed he was driving to a reasonable pace. Malik was moaning softly in the back seat and had been for some time. Moving him first to one car then the other had jostled his wounded leg and it had started to bleed again. Taking a chance that this car was not yet out there on a watch list, Jamal stopped at a convenience store and had Kasim get more supplies plus some small bottles of water.

  “We have to change cars again,” he told Kasim. “They will be looking for this one. We need to steal one that won’t be missed for a while.”

  “And exactly how do you propose to do that?” he snarked. “Maybe now is the time to finally call that number again. Or do you plan to just steal one car after another and run from place to place?”

  “Shut your fucking face.”

  Jamal was in no mood for attitude right now. Everything was going to hell and he had to figure out a way to stop it. He had gotten back onto the interstate, but now he exited and pulled into a small shopping center with a crowded parking lot. He found a space in a row farthest away from the stores and pulled into it.

  “Go do your thing,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Oh, now you want my help?”

  No, I’d like to shoot your head off but I can’t. And I need to keep my shit together to get this done. And to get help for my friend.

  He ground his teeth. “Yes, now I want your help. And please hurry. We need to do this before the owner of the car returns for it. Try the one on the right first. It’s black and fairly anonymous.”

  Grumbling, Kasim climbed out of the car, taking with him the tool they used to jimmy the locks on car doors. On assignments, they often had to switch vehicles—and not with the owner’s permission. This had turned out to be one of Kasim’s natural talents. In seconds he had the other car unlocked and the motor started. They transferred Malik along with everything else and, that fast, they were pulling out of the parking lot and heading down the access road. When they came to another convenience store, he pulled in, opened the briefcase on the seat next to him and extracted one of the phones. He took a moment to gather himself before pressing the designated number, listening while it rang on the other end.

  “Yes?” The same uninflected voice answered he’d gotten every time.

  “This is Jamal. We have a crisis.”

  There was a moment of silence so long Jamal wondered if the man was still there. He forced himself to wait but it wasn’t easy.

  “What is your problem? You were told to wait at the little house and someone would come for you.”

  Jamal gripped the phone so hard he was surprised the plastic casing didn’t crack.

  “My friend was shot. Your man knew that. He needs medical attention. The temporary materials we were given are just that. Temporary. You have just left us waiting there, and that was not the plan.”

  “The plan changed when your friend was shot. We weren’t sure you would be able to handle your assignment, under the circumstances.”

  Jamal did his best to control his anger. He would not let these people leave them twisting in the wind. He had been assured that every eventuality had
been planned for, but it seemed that was not the case.

  “We can still do the job. We still intend to do the job. If you cannot come for us, we will find some other way. I do not intend for us to be robbed of this glory or to be labeled a failure. Why have we not been taken to the apartment waiting for us in the city so we can begin putting the packages together? Time is short.”

  Again there was a long silence.

  Jamal ground his teeth. This was not going well at all.

  “Perhaps this will move you along. You told us no one else would be staying at the lake where we were. You were wrong. There was a couple staying at the cottage closest to us, and he is some kind of thug. He has killed Farid.”

  “Ya Ibn el Sharmouta.” Son of a bitch.

  Jamal’s thoughts exactly.

  “So because the arrangements were less than desirable, my friend is wounded and perhaps dying. Farid is dead. We have people who are now aware of our existence, and—”

  “Where are you at this moment?” the man interrupted.

  “In the parking lot of a convenience store, in a stolen car.” He’d worry about telling them the details, including the nurse and her car, later on. First they had to get to someplace safe.

  “Wait.”

  Wait? What else can I possibly do?

  “What is happening?” Kasim asked. “What is he saying?”

  “Nothing at the moment, but—”

  The voice broke into his sentence. “Tell me exactly where you are.”

  Jamal looked around for street signs and read them off as well as the address of the store.

  “Fine. I will give you directions to a location. Someone will be there waiting for you. He will take you to a new location.”

  “The apartment we were supposed to be taken to in the first place.”

  “I suppose we have no choice. My only other option is to kill the three of you and bury the bodies.”

  Jamal felt a sudden chill. He hoped the man was kidding.

  “If you get us to that place, we can do what we came here for. We can do it better than anyone else, and it will be worth all this trouble.”

  “It had better be. Get moving.”

  “What?” Kasim asked, as they pulled out onto the street again.

  “We are going to meet someone. Hopefully he will take us to our original destination at last.”

  I only hope he was joking about killing us.

  * * * *

  Sheriff Chad Schumacher looked like the movie version of a Texas sheriff, Marc thought. He was tall, broad-shouldered and muscular, with a tan square-jawed face and tiny lines at the corners of his eyes that were probably from squinting into the sun. A tan Stetson sat on top of a file cabinet in his office. Al Gorham made the introductions.

  “Well,” he said, shaking hands with everyone. “It’s not every day I get people arriving here by helicopter. You’ll give our little neighborhood here something to talk about for a good while.” He studied Nikki’s face. “I think maybe we should get a doctor in here to look at that.”

  “No, I’m good. And I have more ice.” She indicated the tote Marc was holding.

  “I don’t know. It looks pretty bad.”

  Her smile was more of a grimace. “Trust me. I’m a nurse. If I thought I needed medical attention, I’d get it.”

  Schumacher looked for a moment as if he was going to argue with her, then just shrugged.

  “Fine, but holler if you change your mind. I suggest we all go into the so-called conference room. There’s a lot more room in there.”

  “So-called looks to be the right word for it,” Slade murmured as they entered.

  It was barely big enough for a long table, eight chairs and a counter that held an array of items that Marc didn’t bother to catalog. They arranged themselves around the table, Nikki next to him, while Slade introduced their group.

  “You sure you wouldn’t rather wait in his office, or maybe with his secretary?”

  She shook her head. “I want to know what’s going on. These animals grabbed me like I was a piece of meat and probably would have killed me if not for you. I want to know exactly what’s happening.”

  “Coffee, anyone?” the sheriff asked. Then he grinned. “Stupid question. Al tells me you’ve all been up since the sun, so let me get someone to bring it in.”

  He waited until everyone had been served and had their coffee fixed the way they liked it. Then he sat back in his chair at the head of the table and looked at Slade.

  “I got dribs and drabs from Al here, but I’d appreciate it if you would tell me what the hell this is all about. And why I got a call from the DHS Office for State and Local Law Enforcement telling me someone was on the way to see me and they looked forward to working with me.” He gave Slade a hard stare. “Would that someone be you?”

  “I’m just the advance guard. When I got the call from Marc about what was going on here, I contacted my commanding officer and he put the wheels in motion. DHS is also sending someone from that office to huddle with the county sheriff.”

  Again, Schumacher looked around the table, returning his gaze to Slade. Then he nodded at Beau.

  “My deputy tells me he got off the helo holding a rifle. What’s up with that? Why bring a sharpshooter?”

  “I wasn’t sure what we’d run into at that little lake, and I always like to be prepared.”

  Schumacher studied him, then looked around the table.

  “Okay. Let’s get started here. Lt. Donovan, since you seem to be in charge of your little group, why don’t—”

  “Slade is fine,” he interrupted. “We need to be tight with each other.”

  “Fine. Slade it is.”

  “Let’s start with our last mission to Niger.” He gave the sheriff a very concise description of the rumors they’d heard, the tip DHS had received and what they were supposed to search out during their mission. There were plenty of rumors but a distinct lack of information.

  “So you couldn’t track it down?” Schumacher asked.

  Slade shook his head. “That’s not unusual, though. We’ve had other sources working to track it down, but nothing happened until Marc and Nikki came out here to spend what was supposed to be a quiet week.”

  “I assume the car Deputy Gorham called to have towed in, the one he says is shot up all to hell, has something to do with this so-called quiet vacation?”

  “It does. But you’d better hear the rest of it firsthand from Marc and his lady, Nikki Alvarez. Who, I have to say, is holding up remarkably well considering the hell she’s been through today. Marc? You want to fill in the details of what’s been going on here since early this morning?”

  Schumacher listened, not interrupting, while first Marc then Nikki told their stories. When they were finished, he sat for a moment, digesting it all.

  “That’s quite some ordeal you’ve had.” He looked from Nikki to Marc and back to Nikki. “Sgt. Blanchard, that’s quite a woman you’ve got there.”

  “First names,” Marc told him. “Like Slade said. And yes, she sure is.” He grinned at Nikki, whose face turned a delicate shade of pink.

  Schumacher looked at his watch. “The guy from OSLLE should be here any time now. At least I’ve got an idea what we’re looking at. The APB on the car turned it up in a shopping center parking lot. We’re having it towed back here so my techs can go over it, too. But that means either they were picked up by someone or they hotwired another car. And until someone calls in the theft, we have no fucking idea what it is.”

  “They were trying to get to San Antonio,” Nikki reminded him. “They were going to call their contact and insist he have someone pick them up.”

  The muscles in Schumacher’s face tightened. “If they did that, we’ve got fuck-all chance of finding them, but we’ll keep looking. Miss Alvarez, you gave us a pretty good description of them. We’ll take a shot of the dead man, but it would help to have some visuals of the others. Could I get you to sit with our sketch artist and see if we can
get some kind of usable drawings?”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  He got up and left the room, returning shortly with a woman about the same size as Nikki, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with the logo of the sheriff’s office.

  “This is Gina,” he said by way of introduction. “Nikki, if you’d go with her, please? If you need coffee or anything, she can fix you up.”

  “I’d appreciate it. Thanks.”

  He looked around the table. “I’m guessing no one’s had breakfast this morning. I’ll send someone over to Main Street to the bakery to get some stuff.” He chuckled. “Not as good as those rolls at the diner near where you folks were staying, but they’re still damn good.”

  Slade opened his mouth as if to protest, but the sheriff held up his hand.

  “No problem.” His mouth curved in a lopsided grin. “I hate it when our guests pass out from hunger.”

  Marc wasn’t sure he could swallow a bite or even wanted to, but since he didn’t know when they’d get the next chance to eat, he forced himself. He tried to concentrate on the conversation around the table, but his mind was with Nikki, in another room recreating the images of the terrorists with the artist.

  She’ll do fine. She’s got more guts than I give her credit for.

  And wasn’t that just the damn truth. He kept thinking of her as the frail person he’d first met at the party, but she had a hidden strength that had allowed her to keep her head this morning when everything had turned to shit.

  Marc noticed that Beau had contributed very little to the conversation, probably by design. None of them knew what was waiting out there for them or if the terrorists would try to send someone back to finish off Nikki and Marc. Slade’s sniper theory was it was better to have them and not need them than the other way around.

  He was just about to ask if he could check on Nikki when Schumacher, who had left to take a phone call, came back into the room with a tall man in jeans and a button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves. He was big and muscular, broad-shouldered, with close-cropped hair and a full but well-trimmed beard. But most of all, Marc recognized a man who meant business and took it seriously.