“What’s wrong, ma’am?” asked one in uniform.
“Some men tried to kill us!”
“Are you Mrs. Dawson-Biggs?” asked a man rushing down the steps.
She nodded.
“Let’s get you inside right away,” he said as he took her by the arm and led her and Jenny up the stairs. Within minutes they were deep within the building, sitting inside a stark white room, a mirror across one of the walls. She had a bottle of water, Jenny a chocolate bar and her own bottle, happily humming as she nibbled at her treat.
Nobody had spoken to them since they had been put in the room about fifteen minutes ago, and she was getting frustrated.
If only I had my phone!
There was a knock on the door then it opened quickly, the man who had brought them inside, a Detective Lewis, entering, followed by two men in dark suits. Her heart immediately slammed into her chest at the sight of them. She didn’t recognize them, but couldn’t be positive they weren’t the ones who had attacked her earlier. She quickly ran through the events in her head. She knew she had put several holes in the first one, and he was definitely dead. The second had a bullet hole in his shoulder, and neither of these men appeared wounded. She shot one in the stomach at the crash site, so there was no way he was one of them. And then there was the one who had taken her gun. She had never seen his face.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Mrs. Dawson-Biggs. But I had to make a few phone calls to get things cleared up.”
“Who are they?” she asked, motioning for Jenny to come over to her side of the table.
The detective frowned, his face grim.
“I’m afraid, ma’am, that I have some bad news. The men you shot, two of whom you killed, were FBI.”
She felt herself gag, her mouth filling with bile as her stomach flipped. It can’t be!
“But they were in my house, they had my daughter!”
“Ma’am, I’m Special Agent Nelson Harcourt”—he flashed his ID—“FBI. My men were searching your house as there was an incident involving your brother. We were there to take you into protective custody. According to my man who survived, you shot one of our agents without provocation, and without giving him a chance to identify himself.”
“This can’t be happening!” she cried, the room starting to swim as she put her arm around Jenny. “I didn’t know! It’s not my fault!”
“Ma’am, we then pursued you, stopped your vehicle, and identified ourselves, yet you then proceeded to shoot and kill another one of my agents.” The man stepped forward. “Ma’am, can you please stand up?”
She rose, trembling, Jenny clinging to her leg.
“Sylvia Dawson-Biggs, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of two federal agents, and the attempted murder of two others. You have the right to remain silent…”
The rest simply became words among the fog of her misery. She had shot innocent FBI agents, men just doing their jobs. Her jaw clenched as she realized why.
“Burt!” she muttered. It had been his message that had caused this. His message that had caused her to panic, to get the gun, to shoot the strange men.
“Burt!” she cried as she was led out of the room, Jenny holding her pant leg. Dozens of faces, none with any detail, stared at them, voices murmured, the doors opened, sunlight glared down on them as they descended the steps and were helped into the back of a black SUV.
As the door closed, her mind suddenly cleared.
“Wait!” she yelled as the door slammed shut, her eyes pleading with the detective who turned and took the steps two at a time.
The FBI agents climbed in the front seats and the vehicle pulled away. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew who she wasn’t going with.
FBI agents.
Her brother’s voice echoed in her head.
I didn’t send any FBI to help you!
Operations Center, The Unit, Fort Bragg, North Carolina
“Report!” barked Colonel Thomas Clancy as he burst into the Op Center, pencil clenched in his teeth. Red turned to explain as Dawson continued to try his sister’s phone, the screen showing the phone stationary.
“Sir, Sergeant Major Dawson received a call from his sister. She and her daughter were being pursued by men posing as FBI agents. She shot several of her attackers and escaped. GPS in her phone has her at the police station, but we haven’t heard anything since.”
“The phone’s moving!” announced the tech.
Clancy motioned toward a large screen on the right.
“Put it up there.”
The screen flashed and suddenly they were all looking at the map of Richmond, Virginia, a red dot slowly moving away from the police station.
“Why would she leave?” asked Dawson, more to himself than anyone else.
“She wouldn’t,” said Clancy. “She’d call you first.” He turned to the tech. “Can you get us eyes on target?”
The man shook his head.
“No birds are in that area right now. I need authorization to access traffic cameras—”
“Do it.”
“Accessing traffic cameras,” said the tech, his fingers flying over the keyboard. Moments later they had a shot of an intersection. “She should be coming through here any moment.”
“What kind of car are we looking for?” asked Clancy.
“Silver Mercedes. C300 I think. Unless she’s got a new car.”
“I pulled her registration. She’s still driving a 2008 Silver Mercedes C300. License plate—”
“There it is,” said Dawson, pointing at a tow truck that had just entered the frame, the silver Mercedes hanging off the back of it. He punched the table, straightening up and spinning around as he tried to cool his jets. “We’ve been tracking a damned empty car for the past fifteen minutes!”
Another tech spoke up.
“Sergeant Major Dawson, I finally have Detective Lewis on the line.”
Dawson grabbed the phone.
“Detective Lewis? This is Sergeant Major Dawson. Do you have her?”
“We did, Sergeant Major, but we had to hand her over to the FBI.”
“You did what?”
Dawson could feel the rage build inside at the stupidity of what he had just heard.
“I had no choice. They had the proper credentials, claimed they had been at her house at your request when she shot and killed one of them. I’m afraid Sergeant Major that they arrested her for murder not even five minutes ago.”
“Murder!” Dawson sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. “Detective, I can assure you those men were not FBI. They were imposters.”
“I can assure you, Sergeant Major, that they were. I checked their credentials myself.”
“Detective Lewis, you said those men were at my sister’s house at my request?”
“Yes.”
“Well I never contacted the FBI. I didn’t even contact you until after my sister was attacked.”
There was a pause, and Dawson could only pray it was because something was finally getting through to the detective.
“Oh shit.”
“When did she leave?” asked Dawson.
“Maybe five minutes,” replied a more subdued and less dismissive Lewis.
“Details.”
“Front steps of the building. There was a black SUV there. She and her daughter left with the two agents.”
Dawson turned to the tech.
“Front steps, black SUV, about five minutes ago. Can you pull footage?”
“Not from any police cameras without hacking the system. What direction did they head?”
“Detective, what direction did they leave in?”
“East. I’m going to put an APB out on the vehicle and I’ll get back to you.”
“There!”
The tech was pointing at the screen. It was the same intersection they had been watching, the time code rolled back. A large black SUV passed through the intersection.
“Sergeants, please come wi
th me.”
Dawson looked at the Colonel.
“Yes, sir.” He turned to the tech. “Find out where that vehicle went.”
He and Red followed the Colonel out of the Ops Center then to his office in silence. Dawson’s mind was racing and suddenly realized that Sylvia’s husband George didn’t even know what was going on. And that he didn’t even have his brother-in-law’s number.
They entered the Colonel’s office, Red closing the door as Clancy sat down behind his desk, tossing his chewed pencil where the humidor used to be. He motioned to the seats.
“Report.”
Dawson let out the breath he had been holding.
“This morning just after our meeting Stucco called me and said he needed help.” Dawson then gave the Colonel a full rundown on what had happened. “After the residence was destroyed, we found a secondary device attached to a piece of paper stuck to a telephone pole. It had a symbol on it that was the same symbol I saw in Lacroix’s hotel room in Geneva.”
“So it definitely ties back to him.”
“Most likely. I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Well, how’s this for coincidence,” said Clancy, leaning forward and opening a file on his desk. “We just received word that your hotel night manager is dead. Stepped in front of a bus.”
Dawson’s eyes closed as he shook his head, images of the happy young girl pushed away and replaced by the severely beaten girl he had seen lying in the hallway.
“And that’s not all.”
“What the hell else could go wrong?” asked Red. “They killed Stucco and his family! They’ve kidnapped BD’s sister and niece!”
“They slaughtered Inspector Laviolette’s family.”
Dawson gripped the arms of his chair, his knuckles turning white.
“They need to pay.”
“Who is they?” asked Clancy.
“This isn’t one man. And this isn’t about a rape. This is about anyone who might have seen what was on that table.”
“The files with the symbol embossed on them?”
Dawson nodded.
“Unfortunately the State Department has made it crystal clear they don’t want us involved in this case, so there’s nothing Delta can do,” said Clancy.
Dawson was about to protest, when Clancy held up a finger.
“But, I think you and your team are due for some vacation. You’re not scheduled for any op, so I suggest you all go somewhere nice. I hear Switzerland is beautiful this time of year.”
Dawson shot to his feet.
“That sounds like a fantastic idea, sir.”
“And if you happen to need anything for training purposes, or should you decide to go hunting, you know how to equip yourselves.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Red as he headed for the door. “Some light reading for the flight might be good. Perhaps intel on Lacroix, case files. I’m an eclectic reader, so the more the better.”
Clancy stood and headed for his door, pointing at the folders on his desk.
“Can you shred those for me on the way out?”
“Yes, sir,” said Dawson as he waited for the Colonel to leave, then with a smile at Red, he grabbed the stack of folders. “Let’s get back to Ops.”
Red put his hand out. “Let me put those in my car. You don’t want to be seen carrying them around.”
Dawson nodded, handing the files over, then headed for Ops. Swiping his pass, he entered the secure room and joined the tech who had been working his sister’s abduction.
“Any progress?”
“I’m afraid so, sir. And you’re not going to like it.”
Hull Street Road, Richmond, Virginia
Sylvia Dawson-Biggs stroked her daughter’s hair, her hands thankfully cuffed in front of her for the drive. She still didn’t know where they were going, except that it appeared they were leaving town. She knew once they were on the highway there was no way they’d be able to escape. She had to get them to stop somehow.
“Mommy, I need to pee.”
Oh God bless you!
“Can we pull over somewhere?” she asked.
“No.”
“She has bladder problems. If we don’t stop soon, she’ll pee all over herself.”
Jenny was about to protest this grave insult when Sylvia put a finger over her mouth and prayed she’d figure it out.
“Shit!” muttered the driver.
“Language! I’ve got a kid here!”
“Not for long, lady.”
The reply cut to the quick, the sudden realization that this wasn’t a kidnapping at all hitting her. At the house they were going to kill her, but she had got the drop on them. At the car accident, it was too public. They couldn’t do it at the police station obviously, so now they were taking them somewhere to finish the job.
Bile filled her mouth and she knew she didn’t have time for games. She had to get her and Jenny away. She started to look around the back of the SUV, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon.
Nothing.
She looked at her hands. Useless. She was in shape but not enough to take on two men, especially in handcuffs.
Handcuffs!
She looked at the passenger, his eyes on the road ahead as were the driver’s. They were turning onto the highway now, and there was no time to waste. She raised her hands, pushing forward, and dropped her cuffed wrists in front of the passenger’s neck then pulled back fast and hard before he could get his own hands in the way. She pushed her knees into the back of the seat as she pulled with her back muscles, far stronger than her arms.
The man gasped, choking for breath as his hands tried to pry at the chain linking the handcuffs, but it was no use. The headrest was raised, and her arms were skinny enough to fit in the gap meaning there was no room for him to grasp.
“Let go!” yelled the driver as he swerved, trying to maintain the high speed turn he was in as he was about to merge onto the highway.
Sylvia pulled harder.
The man grabbed at her fingers but she clenched them into fists, tucking her thumb inside leaving nothing for him to grab. His slaps were getting weaker as the driver still fought for control.
“Buckle up, honey!” she yelled and Jenny immediately grabbed the lap belt of the center seat, snapping it securely. “Make sure it’s tight!” Jenny pulled on it then looked at her.
“It’s tight.”
She kicked out with her left foot and clocked the driver in the side of the head. His hands flew from the wheel leaving it to immediately spin and straighten out. Realizing his mistake, he grabbed the wheel again, quickly turning it to regain control, but instead caused the SUV to tip onto the driver’s side wheels.
She kicked again.
The vehicle tipped over, skidding on its side until it hit the edge of the road where the pavement lip of the highway caught the edge of the SUV and overturned it, the momentum causing them to flip several times, how many Sylvia couldn’t count. She simply closed her eyes, maintained her grip on the man’s neck with her cuffed hands, and shouted for Jenny to hold onto her.
Her head smacked the side window and she felt herself begin to black out, her arms still outstretched, strangling one of those who would kill her and her baby. She felt something give on the handcuffs, as if the man’s neck had finally broken, or something was crushed. What, she didn’t know, her mind now a fog.
All she knew was Jenny was still alive because her screaming hadn’t stopped.
Operations Center, The Unit, Fort Bragg, North Carolina
Dawson watched the traffic camera footage of the SUV losing control, then flipping over several times. The fact there was no movement afterward gave him mixed feelings. If the abductors were alive or mobile, they’d have climbed out by now. But so would have his sister.
“I’m heading to Richmond. Call me if you find out anything on my sister or niece.”
“Yes, Sergeant Major,” replied the tech, his voice subdued.
All eyes were on Dawson a
s he left the room, marching toward his Mustang, ignoring all those around him. He rarely got emotional, rarely shed a tear, but this was his little sister. This was the little girl who had looked up to him her entire childhood, who had cried when he left to join the army, refusing to let him go, who had given him a niece that he adored, and still called him once a week to make sure he was okay.
Calls he was usually unable to take, and failed to return far too often.
It’s when you lose someone that you realize how you had taken them for granted, mistreating them through inattention. The assumption was that they would always be there, that there was always time to tell them how much you appreciated them, how much you loved them. But once gone, torn from your life unexpectedly, it was too late. You prayed they knew how much you really cared despite your actions, but it left you wondering if they died thinking of the phone call you didn’t return, or the phone call you ignored when they knew you were home.
He climbed into his car, revved the engine and squealed from the parking space, a single tear rolling down his cheek, unnoticed.
I swear to you, Sis, that whoever did this to you will pay.
Red stepped out from between two cars, holding his hand out. Dawson slammed on the brakes and Red climbed into the passenger seat.
“Where we going?”
“Richmond.”
“Figured. The guys are waiting at my place for your orders.”
“Call them, put them on speaker.”
Red dialed his home number and immediately it was answered.
“This is Niner.”
“Let me put you on speaker.” He hit the button then held the phone between him and Dawson as they both rolled up their windows.
“Who’s there?” asked Dawson.
“Everyone.”
“Good. Here’s the sit rep. The colonel has said we all need some vacation time and suggested we go hunting in Switzerland. I think it’s a fantastic idea. Agreed?”
A round of agreements burst through the phone.
“Good. Now here’s the immediate situation. My sister and niece were kidnapped by men posing as FBI agents. They were just in a car accident, I don’t know the situation yet but I’m heading to Richmond with Red. We liberated some files that I’m going to need someone to copy for us.”
The Circle of Eight (A James Acton Thriller, Book #7) (James Acton Thrillers) Page 7
