“Steady, brother,” I said in a lowered voice. “Steady.”
“She’s not taking you with her,” he argued.
“Dax, she’s not going to hurt me — not until she reaches Uncle Randy.”
When I said the name, Tama’s brows raised. “Enough. Let’s go.”
Hostages watched from their hiding places as I set my gun down on a desk and walked slowly toward her with hands raised.
She slipped her cell in a pocket, kept her fingers on the tablet, then poked the barrel of the semi-automatic into my ribs. With another jab, she forced me forward, keeping her sights on Dax and the hostages.
I pulled up the wooden slats to the cargo elevator, and we stepped inside, then lowered the slats as her fiery glare sent my heart pounding through my chest.
“Are you the one who killed my brother?”
I never flinched. “I don’t know who killed him.”
“You are a liar who will die for your sins.”
Stepping out into the empty warehouse, I kept my hands raised as we walked toward the parking lot. Tama dug the barrel deeper into my ribs, nudging me to move faster. As we stepped out into the open, we both stopped cold.
Laney.
“I will shoot him,” Tama warned, not missing a beat.
A ray of light pierced through the clouds, shining down on my face. Standing in the center of the parking lot, I was a human shield. SWAT officers were strategically positioned, waiting for the next command. Laney stepped forward with her cell pressed firmly against her ear. She wanted a better look, but I didn’t want her getting too much closer.
“We both know how this goes,” Laney said to Tama. “It’s over.”
“She’s got the malware on her tablet,” I replied. “She said she has access to nuclear warheads. Better let us pass.”
Laney relayed what I’d said to whoever was on the other end of the line. Tama pushed the barrel deeper, forcing me to step forward. My eyes locked with Laney, and I recognized the concern.
“She’s telling the truth, Chase.”
“Order them to stand down,” Tama said from behind. “And clear out of the area, right now.”
I started walking before Tama nudged again.
Laney stepped back then ordered SWAT to stand down, but no one was clearing out. Tama kept her body attached to mine as we reached the street and headed away from downtown. For the next half mile, we were shadowed by SWAT with Laney following right behind us.
We reached an on-ramp and headed toward the empty freeway. Thumping from helicopter rotors grew louder. As the helicopter approached, SWAT inched closer and I knew they were itching to neutralize the target. Once the landing skids hit the freeway, a door slid open and out jumped six Russians fully armed. Mercenaries. Weapons pointed in all directions.
From inside the cabin, Uncle Randy yelled, “Hurry up and get in!”
No way SWAT was allowing that to happen. The first shot rang out, whizzing by my ear before hitting the fuselage. Spinning around, I grabbed the semi-automatic, wrestling it from Tama’s grasp. Russians returned fire, unloading their magazines, before being dropped one by one. More gunfire. Tama held the tablet out in front of her as Uncle Randy slid across the seat and grabbed it out of her hand.
The helicopter lifted off with Tama gripping onto a landing skid. I lunged to grab her legs, but she was too high. Last time I’d grabbed on like she’d done was when her brother escaped. This time, Laney had my back, firing and hitting her target with every round. Tama’s body grew limp as she slipped off the landing skid, then dropped to the concrete with a thud. Crashing into water is like hitting concrete — not true the other way around.
As SWAT secured the area to be sure all attackers were down, Laney and I rushed over to Tama, hoping by some miracle she still had the tablet. Her head was twisted sideways, eyes frozen as she stared down to hell.
Laney relayed a description of the helicopter, then turned toward me and shouted, “Are you okay?”
“Never better.” I stared at the helicopter as it disappeared above the clouds. “Uncle Randy’s got the tablet.”
“Warheads are not secured,” she shouted into her cell. “I repeat, warheads are not secured. Collinsworth is on the run, sir.”
I stared down the miles of empty freeway, knowing vengeance against Fatima, Kasim, and Tama was done. But the nightmare wasn’t over, it simply found a new boogie man. I wasn’t sure what prompted me, but I kneeled and searched Tama. Bulging from her back pocket was a rugged hard drive — the same kind we used to backup intelligence on the Prodigal. To think, how wrong we were all along.
“We need to see what’s on there.” Laney stepped over and took the drive from my hand. “How’d you get inside?”
“Dax’s master plan.” I groaned as my joints cracked and bones ached. “What about Uncle Randy?”
A deep roar from the skies stopped Laney from answering. Two F-16 fighter jets screamed across downtown LA, leaving a white trail in their wake, before banking hard right headed toward the Pacific.
“Were they going to…”
EIGHTY-FOUR
PIKES PEAK BUNKER
All eyes were fixed on the live feed from inside the cockpit of two F-16s over downtown LA as General Abbott was on the line with Agent Kelley, whose voice was broadcasted for all to hear inside the command center.
“Abort,” General Abbott ordered. “Abort.”
Scratchy audio from a pilot confirmed. “Roger that, abort.”
Bouchard stood next to Abbott with his arms crossed as the F-16s banked hard and the live feed cut out. “Tama Fatima and Akram Kasim confirmed dead?”
“Yes, Mr. President.” Abbott turned toward Bouchard. “Power has been rebooted in LA. Agencies are back online determining the extent of the breach. Stock market and hospitals remain in the dark. We owe a great deal to the LAPD. Agent Kelley recovered a hard drive, so we’re waiting for confirmation of its contents. However, we do believe a tablet of some sort was handed off on scene.”
“A tablet? What about the warheads?”
“Offline at the facility, but no sign of being active.” Abbot leaned in closer. “A moment, sir.”
Before they reached the situation room, Agent Kelley’s voice was back. “General Abbott, we’ve checked the hard drive. FBI. CIA. Homeland. Pentagon. At first glance, it seems there are intelligence files here, sir. Will take time to access which ones were breached.”
“Thank you, Agent Kelley.” Abbott opened the door for Bouchard and the two stepped inside. “Mr. President, we now have visual confirmation Randall Collinsworth was inside the helicopter that escaped.”
“We’re positive?”
“Agent Kelley verified it as fact, sir.” Abbott’s shoulders broadened. His hazel eyes darkened. “I’ve fought in many battles during my career and have seen the fear in the eyes of those when they’ve faced their enemy.”
“Stop dancing around — spit it out.”
“Mr. President, what does Collinsworth have on you?”
Bouchard glared at Abbott. “Anything else?”
“No, sir.” Abbott brushed past Bouchard. “I’ll be sure to include that in my report.”
Bouchard paced the situation room in a rage. Who was Abbott to question him about Collinsworth? He leaned against the conference table watching the same feed of intelligence on the screen that was on the other side of the glass in the command center. Deciding how many ways he could demote Abbott, his gaze landed on the nuclear facility located on the West Coast.
Activity in the command center elevated. General Abbott was in mid-conversation by the time Bouchard reached him.
“What’s going on?”
“Spoke too soon, Mr. President. Two of the warheads are live.”
“Oh my God… how do we shut them down?”
“Right now, we’re working on safeguarding the other warheads. Seems Collinsworth used whatever was on that tablet to gain access to only those two. We need to be sure that number doesn’t
increase.”
Bouchard’s cell rang. He checked the number. Private. He answered anyway.
“David, I’m sorry it’s come down to this.” Bouchard recognized the billionaire’s voice. “Amazing how close Tama was to the pot of gold. What a shame.”
Bouchard slipped away and returned to the situation room. “Randall, you tried to steal agency intelligence, for what, to blackmail your own country?”
“Word on the street was Congress and the Senate were going to revoke the DOD contract. Didn’t leave me much choice.”
“Are you insane?” Bouchard kept his voice down. “What’re you going to do, launch nuclear warheads?”
“I must admit, it wasn’t the original plan,” Collinsworth chuckled. “But it’ll get me what I’m owed after all I’ve done for you, Mr. President.”
“What you’re owed? You kept me in the dark, remember?”
“You knew what we were doing was against federal law. Ask Simon about the money trail. I’m sure Congress and the Senate would appreciate hearing about those operations in detail. Two billion, David. That’s the price to stop a nuclear war, and you’ll get re-elected as a bonus.”
Bouchard rubbed his forehead. “I need a minute.”
“Finger won’t stay on the button for long.”
“Okay. Two billion.” Bouchard second guessed himself. “How will I know you won’t double-cross me again?”
“Send an insurance policy,” Collinsworth replied. “Chase Hardeman.”
“That’s not good enough,” Bouchard pushed back. “Stock market and hospitals back online or there’s no deal.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” Collinsworth was silent for a moment. “Consider it done.”
“Good. How do we do this?”
“I’ve got a cargo plane waiting at LAX. Load the money and the insurance policy by tomorrow morning. Until then, I’ll be waiting.”
Collinsworth disconnected, leaving Bouchard in a panic. He left the situation room, walked through the command center as General Abbott announced the stock market and hospitals were back online. No time to breathe. Two nuclear warheads were still hijacked.
Bouchard found Simon Adams in his bunker office, on the phone updating the State Department on the latest developments, leaving them with more questions than answers. He turned toward Bouchard and exhaled deeply.
“UN Security Council is meeting within the hour. Russia. France. China. United Kingdom. Pakistan. India. Israel. All of them know about the warheads.”
“Randall called on my private line.” Bouchard checked the door, as if there were spies listening in. “He’s controlling the malware and the two warheads.”
Adams’ brows raised. “What does he want in return?”
“Two billion.” Bouchard shared Adams’ deadpan gaze. “He said to ask you about the money trail.”
EIGHTY-FIVE
Walking the streets alone, a wave of solemnness washed over me. I thought there’d be a shred of satisfaction, but there wasn’t. Revenge was a lover of emptiness. Dad was dead. Sleepy’s wife would raise her kids alone — the same was true with Wilkins’ family too. And no one would ever know Swanson’s heroics at the Los Gatos farm. Killing Fatima, Tama, and Kasim was supposed to end the nightmares, but in the aftermath it left too much undone.
Then it hit me. I knew what to do in remembrance.
Adrenaline subsided, leaving me crashing from the chase. My mind raced through all the regrets I’d ever had with Dad, Dax, Elena, Laney, and those two boys. In life there’s a picture, a dream, that fuels our desires. Dream house. Loving spouse. Big family. A successful career. But oftentimes the dream leaves us wanting more. And that’s how I’d lived my life — never satisfied.
By the time I reached the black site, the area was swarming with LAPD. Black-and-whites. Bomb squad. First responders attending to the hostages. In the distance, news vans had arrived, kept a block away with crime scene tape, eager to be the ones to break the story.
“Anti-malware worked like a boss.” Dax handed me the thumb drive. “Bouchard should give Marcus a medal.”
Holding the drive in my palm, I glanced toward the hostages, wondering who was covered on the floor inside. “Anyone else seriously hurt?”
“Mostly cuts, bruises, and plenty of trauma.” Dax shifted his gaze between the hostages and me. “One of the dead was Vaughn.”
I was lightheaded for a minute. “Does Laney know?”
“No one’s talking.” Dax shrugged. “Tell me it’s finally over.”
“Uncle Randy’s got the tablet — and the warheads.”
His eyes widened. “You think he’ll actually launch a nuclear missile?”
“He’s not the man I thought I knew.” A deeper sadness sunk in. “I can’t believe he’s the one who helped Fatima kill Dad. He was the Prodigal all along.”
“His day will come.” Dax reached out and hugged me hard. “You did your dad proud.”
“We did him proud, Dax.” A lump lodged in my throat. “I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”
He released the bear hug and stepped back. “I’m just glad I didn’t have to go with my original plan.”
Even with the loss, it was hard to suppress a smile, not wanting to offend those who were in the crosshairs. Standing off to the side, we watched as officers gathered and lined up side by side. First responders emerged from the warehouse with two covered bodies — one of which was Vaughn. Every officer saluted, and so did Dax and I. It was the only way to show respect to a man I’d gotten all wrong.
Laney quietly stood next to me. Her eyes welled up with tears. I fought the urge to grab her hand, knowing that this moment was deeper than the two of us.
“Sorry, Laney,” Dax said. “He was already gone.”
She said under her breath, “I didn’t do enough.”
The body was loaded into the back of an ambulance. LAPD and LAFD led the way with flashing lights. We waited for the moment to pass, knowing it could’ve been any one of us.
“I spoke with President Bouchard.” She wiped her eyes. “He needs you one last time.”
“Seriously?” Dax protested. “That dude’s insane, man.”
“He’s asking the impossible.”
“Does it have anything to do with ending this once and for all?” I asked.
Laney nodded. “Collinsworth is willing to do an exchange.”
“What kind of exchange?”
“You deliver a ransom, and he’ll hand over the malware with the warheads.”
“What’s the guarantee?” Dax blurted. “Zero, Chase.”
“Dax is right,” Laney agreed. “It’s suicide.”
I’d never seen Uncle Randy back out on a deal, but there was always a first time, especially when dealing with nuclear warheads. Both Dax and Laney were right, but if there was a chance…
“What do you think about splitting the four mil between the families?”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” Dax replied, knowing it was pointless to plead his case any further. “I got it handled.”
“Make sure you find Margaret too.” After Laney told me what the miracle woman from Skid Row had done, it was the least we could do. Turning toward Laney, I hoped one day we’d be able to put all this behind us. After all, Dad taught me to believe in the impossible. “Tell Bouchard I’ll do it.”
EIGHTY-SIX
Before sunrise, the iconic LA skyline gleamed in the early hours. After surviving the largest blackout in US history, Angelenos were back to morning traffic across the Southland. Not sleeping most of the night, I watched news emerge about a possible cyber attack against the FBI, CIA, Homeland, and the Pentagon. So far there was no comment from anyone within those agencies. Not a word about the capture and deaths of Akram Kasim or Tama Fatima either.
While the details of the hostage situation were being closely guarded, the FBI had already released details about a special memorial for Special Agent Russell Vaughn planned in the coming days. On the flip side,
there was a protest planned to march against excessive force by the LAPD in Griffith Park. If they only knew the whole truth and nothing but.
Riding in the Mercedes, I closed my eyes and leaned back against a heated seat which soothed my aching muscles. Dax was behind the wheel and hadn’t said much since we returned to Elena’s apartment late the night before. With the radio on, I listened to more reports discussing an emergency meeting with the UN Security Council. No one knew what it was about — except for us.
“Any word from Elena?” Dax asked.
“I’ve tried to reach her, but she’s not answering.”
“She doesn’t know what you’re about to do?”
“Nope.” I kept my eyes closed. “If it’s the end of the road, I’m good with it.”
“Well, just for the record, I’m not.”
We were surrounded by black-tinted SUVs belonging to the FBI. No one was taking a chance of losing me — or me disappearing. Laney rode in the SUV ahead of us. There were things I wanted to say to her, but that would have to wait — maybe they’d never be said.
Twenty minutes later, we pulled up to a private entrance to LAX. Dax followed the SUVs toward a high-winged freight aircraft surrounded by armed military personnel. We climbed from the Mercedes as forklifts hoisted and transferred large covered pallets from a military cargo plane into the cargo hold of the freight aircraft.
It was bitterly cold, so everyone was bundled up. Zipping my jacket, I flipped the hoodie over my head. Laney approached, wearing a leather jacket and scarf. I noticed the bulge on her hip, and FBI badge around her neck, paying more attention to every detail than before when she was someone else.
“Chase, you can change your mind.”
“Doesn’t seem like that’s an option.” Dax handed me a backpack with food for the flight. “How will you know when I’ve got the tablet?”
Laney answered, “We don’t know where you’re headed.”
“Doesn’t the pilot know?”
“The freight aircraft is a drone.”
The Auctioneer Page 32
