by Lisa Harris
She followed Jack into the elevator, then watched as he pushed the button for the hospital basement. “I’m guessing you chose the basement because it’s the most direct route?”
“Are you kidding? I chose it for the scenery.”
She laughed at his comeback as the elevator doors slid closed, realizing how much she’d missed that humor. On the basement level, the dingy hallway smelled of chemicals and antiseptic. Footsteps echoed down the hallway as a woman in scrubs slipped through a doorway. Aubrey automatically checked for her side arm, then remembered she didn’t have it.
“I’m not sure I like the scenery down here.”
“All of this is simply a precaution, but I don’t plan to take any chances until we know what’s going on. You’re one of our main witnesses, so you’ve just become valuable to both sides, including the FBI.” He turned at another long, narrow hallway. “There’s a curbside exit down by the morgue not too far ahead, where our driver is waiting.”
She quickened her pace. Trusting him wasn’t the issue. If she were honest with herself, it was her being forced to dredge up the past that was leaving her feeling exposed.
“So how long have you been a detective?” Jack’s question pulled her back into the present.
“Eight months and counting.”
“You like it?”
“It’s hard work, but I feel like I’m doing what I was made to do.”
“I remember you always talked about going into law enforcement.”
“I think that’s why this morning shook me up so much. I’m not used to being on the other side of a case.”
“That’s not the only reason you’re so shook up. I told you, you can’t just brush this off. You watched someone you love get shot. That’s enough to rattle even the most veteran officer.”
He was right, but now wasn’t the time to worry about her mental health. She planned to do anything she could to make sure they found whoever was behind the shooting. Which meant she was going to have to be involved, no matter how she was feeling.
Footsteps on the tiled floor echoed behind them. A shiver slid through her. She was being paranoid, which wasn’t like her. She turned around. Two men hurried toward them, both carrying side arms.
“Two men with guns at our six,” she said quietly to Jack.
“I have a feeling this is about to get ugly. Stay behind me.”
Jack turned around, his weapon drawn. “FBI—weapons on the ground and hands in the air. Now!”
A woman wearing scrubs stepped out into the hallway, momentarily shifting Aubrey’s attention.
“Bree, get her inside!”
One of the men fired off a shot. The bullet slammed against the wall beside them as Aubrey grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her into the nearest room. A man and another woman wearing scrubs stood over a body bag, staring at them. Frustration snapped through her as she glanced around the morgue. Rows of metal cabinets lined one of the gray walls. Four body bags lay on metal tables. She needed to get the three of them to safety so they didn’t end up in body bags too.
If the gunman entered the room, there would be nowhere to hide. A bullet would slice through the metal tables. She should have insisted someone bring her her side arm before they left.
“I’m Detective Aubrey Grayson. Is there another way out of this room?”
“There’s a walk-in cooler.” The man pointed behind him.
She made a snap decision. “Get in there now.”
The second woman stood immobile next to the body.
Aubrey ran toward her. “Go, go, go!”
CHAPTER TEN
JACK FIRED HIS WEAPON in response, then pressed his back against the wall. At the moment, he had only two objectives in mind: ensure the safety of Bree and everyone else in this hospital, and take down the shooters. One of the men shouted, then they both turned around and ran down the hallway before slipping around the corner and out of sight. Had he winged one of them? He wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that he needed to stop them.
He pressed on the surveillance earpiece Adam had set him up with. “Adam . . . I need you to lock down the south wing of the hospital immediately, as well as all exits, and call in backup.”
“What’s going on?”
“We’ve got two active shooters just outside the morgue, heading south down the corridor toward the maintenance wing. I think I clipped one of them, but I can’t be sure.”
“Copy that. I’m going to send out backup immediately and coordinate the hospital’s emergency lockdown plan. Are there any injuries at your location?”
“None that I’m aware of. The morgue technicians are inside with Bree and safe at the moment.”
“Contain the situation if possible, then wait for backup.”
He agreed with the call, but his options were limited. He was armed, but clearing the wing solo was extremely risky, and there was no way to ensure an employee didn’t end up in the line of fire.
“Jack . . .”
He glanced behind and saw Bree running toward him. He frowned. “You should have stayed in the morgue. You’re unarmed.”
“I’m counting on you having a backup weapon. And that you weren’t planning to go after those guys alone.”
He reached down and pulled a Glock 23 from his ankle holster. His primary job might be to keep Bree safe, but she was no ordinary assignment, and she wasn’t going to simply retreat.
He handed her the weapon. “I was still hoping you’d stay back there.”
“We need to get these guys, Jack,” she said. “You need me.”
She was right. Going after them together was far more advantageous than a solo act, but he still didn’t like it.
“Where are they?”
“Ahead and to the left.”
They moved forward cautiously, needing to avoid a gunfight. He’d already run through the scenario a dozen times. They had to believe that the Chinese thought Bree was worth taking. But they wouldn’t do it on his watch.
“What do you think their plan is?”
“I think they assumed they could pull a quick ambush, but now that that didn’t work? I don’t know. We need to sweep this floor and try and flush them out. I’ve already spoken to Adam, and he’s working with the hospital to lock down this wing as we speak, as well as any other exits from the rest of the hospital.”
“What’s ahead of us?”
He’d memorized the layout of their route, even though he’d hoped they wouldn’t run into any resistance. “Maintenance is to our left, and there’s an outside exit beyond that.”
His tactical training came back automatically. He would have preferred a four-person team charging down the narrow hallway, but the two of them would have to do. He paused before the hallway intersection, an automatic danger zone, grateful he trusted Bree and her instincts implicitly.
He slowed down as they came to a T-junction, then signaled for her to go low and work the left side. He’d remain standing and work his side of the opening. They called a situation like this a fatal funnel because if the enemy was waiting around the corner for them, they’d become an open target. Something he couldn’t let happen. But neither was he going to just sit back and do nothing.
He leaned slightly to the right in order to see down the hallway. The response was a spray of bullets from around the corner that slammed into the wall inches above his head. Jack pressed back against the wall.
“Bree—”
“I’m fine.”
Seconds later, footsteps pounded against the ground and faded into the distance, followed by an eerie silence that filled the corridor. He slowly cleared the corner a second time, aware of his line of fire. This time the hallway was empty. Where were they?
“If they’re trying to avoid the exit, where would they go?” Jack spoke again into his com.
“Give me a minute,” Adam said. “I’m going to get someone on the line that’s more qualified to answer.”
Jack felt his heart pounding in his throat as h
e waited. They didn’t have a minute, but neither did he want to end up pinned down by a miscalculated plan.
“Agent Shannon, this is Bill Mathers, the hospital’s chief executive officer. There’s a lab to your right and maintenance to your left. Both rooms have exits into the main hallway, but they are also locked.”
“You’re positive about that?”
“It has been confirmed that both are locked down.”
They walked toward the maintenance room, and Jack tried the handle. The man was right. It was locked.
Jack tugged at his communicator again, hating the game of cat and mouse. “Do you have anyone guarding the south exit?”
“We’re waiting for confirmation, but that door is locked from the outside only, so they would be able to get out.”
“Then they have to be heading for that exit, hoping they avoid resistance. They are armed. Backup needs to be ready.”
“Roger that.”
Bree followed him down the narrow hall to the south exit, then stopped beside him at the door. If they weren’t careful, the men would be able to pick them off. But something told him their plan wasn’t to kill them. Or at least not Bree. They wanted her alive and had taken a huge risk to find her.
He only hoped he was right.
He pushed open the door, knowing the threat from outside could come from any angle, and breathed in the humid saltwater air just in time to see the men drive off.
“I need backup at the south entrance immediately!” Jack shouted into his com. “Shooters are driving away in a white Dodge Durango.”
On the sidewalk a woman was screaming hysterically.
“Ma’am . . . are you okay?” Bree moved in front of the woman, her hands on her shoulders, and looked her in the eye. “Take a deep breath and talk to me. What happened?”
“Jack.” Adam’s voice came through the earphone.
“They just carjacked a vehicle,” Jack said. “Give me a second.”
“They took my babies,” the woman said, her chest still heaving. “They . . . they’re in car seats in the back. They pointed a gun at me and pulled me out of the car. I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t—”
An unmarked car pulled up, dash light flashing, shifting their attention momentarily.
Bree glanced up at Jack. “We need to go after them. Now.”
“Detective Gerome?” he asked, running to the driver’s door.
“Yes.” The man stepped out of the vehicle, its engine running. “What’s going on?”
“I need your car.”
“I thought I was supposed to escort you—”
“Plans just changed.” Jack headed for the driver’s seat. “Two men just carjacked this woman’s vehicle. Her two children are in the back. Get the details from her and issue an Amber Alert immediately.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jack threw on his seat belt as Bree slid into the passenger seat, ignoring the confused look still lingering on the face of the detective. A moment later they were exiting the hospital parking lot.
“Do you see them?”
Bree leaned forward and braced her hands against the dashboard. “They’re about four cars ahead of us in the left lane.”
“Got ’em.”
He pressed on the accelerator and started weaving his way around vehicles to catch up with them, thankful traffic wasn’t too heavy this time of day. He knew the dangers of a police chase. Knew the risks of a crash, of innocent-bystander injuries and deaths. But there were two children in that car who needed rescuing.
His com crackled. “Jack, I need an update.”
“There are two kids in the back of the vehicle they stole.”
“Do you know where they are now?”
“We have them in sight. We’re heading west away from the hospital. The detective is with the mother, getting details from her now so we can put out an Amber Alert on the children as well as the vehicle.”
“Maintain pursuit, but do not engage. I’m coordinating now with the local police.”
Bree stared out the windshield, her fingers gripping the dashboard. “I can’t believe this is happening, Jack. Those babies . . . if anything happens to them—”
“We’re going to make sure nothing does.”
A van pulled out in front of their vehicle, then slowed down, blocking his view.
“Can you see them?” he asked.
She gestured. “You need to get over.”
“I’m trying.” Jack bumped the siren for a short burst in order to get the van to move. “Get out of the way . . . get out of the way . . .”
He flipped on his blinker, waited for a Jeep to pass them, then sped around the van.
“Jack . . . they just turned again. The mall parking lot to your right.”
Jack pushed on the accelerator, then turned into the mall entrance, trying to figure out where they were going. The mall was busy this time of day. How hard would it be to disappear into a crowd? And the woman’s children? If the shooters were smart, their plan would be to leave them behind and run. The children would only slow them down.
“Where are they, Bree?” His focus was divided between looking for the car and ensuring he didn’t hit a pedestrian.
“I lost them. Take a left. They had to have gone that way.”
He searched for the white vehicle. There were dozens of cars that all looked the same. “They’ve got to be here, Bree, but I don’t see them.”
“There was an ‘I’d rather be at the beach’ sticker on the back window,” she said, trying to narrow it down. “Wait a minute . . . next aisle. Looks like there’s been a wreck.”
She was right. The stolen car had rear-ended another vehicle.
Her seat belt was off by the time he stopped the car. “They’re gone. We lost them.”
“Our first concern is those children. You check on them, I’ll call this in and check on the other vehicle.”
A woman groaned from the front seat when he approached the car.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” Jack asked.
“I think so. This car came out of nowhere, ran into my car, then the driver and passenger just ran off.”
“We’ve called 911, and someone will be here in just a minute.”
Jack headed toward the other car.
“You think they’re okay?” he asked Bree.
She nodded. “I don’t think they have any idea what happened.”
A baby was crying behind the driver’s seat.
“Can you get the little one out, Jack?”
He pulled open the back door of the vehicle, then fumbled with the car seat buckle before slipping his hands around the baby and pulling him out.
He spoke into his com. “What are the kids’ names, Adam?”
“Harper is two and Oliver is six months. Their mother wants to know if they’re okay.”
“They’re a bit shaken up, but it looks to me like they’re going to be just fine.”
He started rocking the baby.
“Is he okay?” she asked.
“As far as I can tell.”
Oliver snuggled up against Jack’s chest.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a baby, but you seem to have the touch.”
He smiled, but was relieved when two officers came to take over the scene. He needed to get Bree out of there.
“We need to go.”
“I’d rather wait until the mother gets here.”
He shook his head. “They’ll be fine. I promise.”
“And the other woman?”
“She’s talking with an officer now, and she said she wasn’t hurt. I’ve let the mother know that her babies are fine. They’re going to be transported back to the hospital and meet her there. In the meantime, I want to get you somewhere safe.”
“Where are you thinking?” she asked.
“Adam’s been talking to one of the senator’s sons. I think the safest place to take you right now is his father’s house. It’s gated and secure . . .” Jack hesitated at
her distracted stance. “Bree . . .”
She wasn’t listening to him.
“I’ve arranged for both of us to stay there for the next couple days . . .” He moved in front of her and caught her gaze. “Bree . . . you okay?”
“Yeah, but I can’t stop thinking if something had happened to those children . . .”
“But it didn’t, Bree. They’re going to be fine. It’s over.”
She shook her head. “Except it’s not. We’ve got to find my father and put an end to this before someone really does get hurt.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JACK STEPPED OUT ONTO the large brick veranda that surrounded the swimming pool with a tray holding a pot of hot tea, a couple of mugs, and a plate of lemon bars. He’d seen the fatigue in Bree’s eyes and hoped he could convince her to go upstairs and take a nap. They’d decided that the senator’s two-story house was the safest location at the moment with its walled yard and built-in security system. A couple of plainclothes officers outside the front gate added another layer of protection. He had asked for the most seasoned officers because until he had a grasp on the situation, he wasn’t going to take any chances.
The seven-bedroom house looming above him was impressive with its cathedral ceilings, grand foyer, and stunning waterfront view of the bay. But even the added security of the property clearly wasn’t enough to settle Bree’s nerves.
Bree stood against the metal railing surrounding the pool, staring out across the bay. Until this moment, she hadn’t had a chance to process everything that had happened the last few hours. And once she did, it wasn’t going to get any easier.
Jack filled a mug. “I brought you some tea and lemon bars.”
The only response was the sound of the wind blowing through the palm trees edging the property.
“Bree?”
She turned around and faced him before crossing the veranda and sitting down in one of the deck chairs. “Sorry. I know I’m distracted. I’m just trying to figure all this out. I’m having a hard time taking everything in.”
He sat in the chair next to hers. “I don’t blame you for being distracted. All of this has to be a lot to process.” He slid the mug of hot tea in front of her. “It’s chamomile. It’s supposed to have a calming effect.”
