She couldn’t help smiling at the expression on Molodavi’s face. It reminded her of a child watching his favorite balloon shoot up into the sky, lost forever.
Game over.
Jessie raised her hand over the edge of the table and lined up an imaginary shot with the mobster’s back, making a popping noise with her mouth before putting it down again. She looked at Dylan and smiled.
“I’m good.”
And she was. She didn’t need to kill Molodavi to finish her mission.
She’d won.
The lead SWAT officer shook off the distraction and advanced on them, rifle at the ready. The other uniformed men swarmed around Molodavi and his men, yelling at them.
The thugs knelt and put their hands behind their heads, eyes downcast.
Edward Molodavi glared at the officer for a long second without complying.
Jessie paused, waiting to see if he’d resist. There was always a chance this was one of his paid, dirty cops, someone on the inside who might let him go for the sake of his family or a thick wad of bills stuffed in his locker.
Or would Molodavi choose death by cop, forcing the officer to shoot him and avoiding a trial and any chance of going to jail?
“Are you deaf?” The helmeted officer roared, the rifle barrel steady and aimed at Molodavi’s chest. “Down on your knees, hands behind your head.”
Edward pulled his lips away from his teeth in a snarl.
“Do it,” the policeman ordered.
The mobster looked over at Dylan and Jessie before slowly following the officer’s orders, only breaking eye contact with Jessie when the officer pulled him to the side to handcuff him.
Another SWAT member advanced on them, rifle at the ready.
Jessie held her breath, slipping into a pain-filled haze as she waited.
Dylan smiled as he took hold of her good hand and entwined their fingers. He raised both his hands, drawing hers up with him.
“She’s been shot, needs a medic.” Dylan pointed at her injured arm. “And I want my lawyer.”
In her ear, a satisfied chortle from Trey finished the frantic scene.
…
They were escorted out of the casino and to a team of waiting ambulances, armed police standing around, watching their every move. It was a crazy sight, Molodavi’s men being herded to one side where the police vans sat while the civilians were gently helped to the other side to be assessed and treated before they gave statements.
She wasn’t sure which way they were headed at first, the officer waving over a paramedic to deal with her as they walked toward the police line.
Her fingers dug into Dylan’s arm as the cop started to pull him away, separating them.
“It’s okay.” He looked at her and smiled. “I’ll be fine. Get taken care of.”
She released him and watched as he was led over to the police vans.
The medic touched her good shoulder. “Come on over here.”
She allowed herself to be led through the triage area. Despite the chaos, she spotted only light injuries among the collected civilians, a few deep cuts from broken glass and the odd dislocated shoulder. None of them seemed to be too serious, lightening the load on her heart.
Finn stood in the crowd of civilians, chatting amicably to one of the plainclothes detectives. He gestured at her and at Dylan, now standing in line with the other Molodavi men.
She didn’t recognize the detective and frowned, trying to place the man’s face. It’d been a year since she’d left the force, but she couldn’t have forgotten them all, could she?
Luke chatted with a female detective, rolling up his sleeve to show a scar. She smiled but kept writing in her notebook.
Andrew and Simon were at another ambulance with the elderly woman. She was holding both their hands and babbling to the paramedic who was busy settling her on the stretcher. The two men were laughing and nodding, showing no ill effects from the battle.
“Looks to me like you’ll only need a few stitches, but the doctor’ll make that final decision.” The medic finished putting the bandage on, taping it to Jessie’s skin. “Let me get the paperwork, and we’ll transport you to LVH.” The woman turned away to scribble on her clipboard.
Jessie froze as Edward Molodavi was marched by, grinning. His hands were still cuffed behind his back, and the two uniformed men accompanying him showed no sign of sharing his good humor.
The mobster smiled as he spotted Jessie.
“Next time I’ll skip straight to the fun part,” he murmured.
She watched him being tucked into the back of a police car none too gently, the officers ignoring his muttered curses.
…
The officer brought Dylan over to where Finn stood. The plainclothes detective next to him glared at the policeman. “Take the cuffs off.”
The uniformed cop complied and left.
“I’m Special Agent McKenzie.” He stuck out his hand and Dylan automatically took it, noting the firm grip. “Mac to my friends. And right now that includes you and the lovely lady over there. I got a call from Jerry—said you two were solid. We’ve been trying to get Molodavi for years. Timing is great for us, couldn’t be worse for him. All of his information is out there on the ’net now. He’s pretty well done on all fronts. Can’t put this back in the box.” He nodded to Finn. “I have to go do some paperwork. Thanks again.”
Dylan waited until the FBI agent was a good distance away before speaking. “Finn?”
“Friend of a friend. Of a friend. Either way, he gets to look good and we’ve racked up another favor.”
Dylan wiped his forehead. “Where’s everyone?”
“Wyatt’s back at the club. Trey’s still in the van doing the online mojo.” Finn nodded. “I’m good, thanks for asking.”
He gave the man a playful punch in the shoulder. “You’re always good.”
Finn laughed and looked around them. The majority of the ambulances had pulled out, the first responders relieved they weren’t responding to a mass casualty scene. Police still wandered around, in uniform and out of uniform, processing the Molodavi men pulled in from the casino.
“This is still a cluster.” Finn rubbed the back of his neck. “Mac might have gotten you out of cuffs, but we’re going to have to give statements.”
“Put in a call to Matt. He’ll clear the way for us.” Dylan smiled. Having a lawyer associated with the Brotherhood was a godsend, especially someone who used to be with the State Attorney’s office. Matt Cooper would make sure none of his men ever spent a night behind bars.
“Already told Trey, and he’s on his way. So now what?” Finn asked.
“Jessie’s going the hospital to get her wound checked out.” Dylan jerked a thumb back at the ambulance. “Then we wrap up the loose ends.”
“Including Jessie,” Finn said, his voice dropping low. “She’s special.”
“Yes, she is. And I’m planning to keep it that way.”
…
“Right. We’ll be leaving in a few minutes.” The paramedic hopped down from the back of the ambulance and nodded at Dylan as he approached. “We’re headed to Las Vegas General. We’ve got the space if you want to ride in with her.”
“Okay.” Dylan nodded his thanks as the medic moved away to confer with her driver. He leaned into the ambulance. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got shot.” She touched the sling holding her right arm immobile. “But I’ll survive.”
He smiled. “I’ll call Lisa and make sure she knows you’re okay.”
“Oh, God.” Jessie pressed her palm to her forehead. “She’s going to be freaking out, between being saved and seeing this on the news.”
“Ace is with her, she’ll be okay. Probably already got her up on the roof with a few steaks on the grill and a cold beer in her hand.” He bent over and kissed her, a teasing brush of his lips. “Let me say good-bye to Finn, and I’ll be right back.”
A plainclothes detective approached the ambulance, his pol
ice badge hanging from his belt. The older man scanned Dylan for a second before turning to Jessie. “What the fuck is going on here?” He eyed her. “Damn it, Jessie. What the hell did you do?”
She glared at the man and lifted her bad arm. “What does it look like? I got shot.”
“You stupid bitch,” the man continued to rant. “I thought I’d never have to hear your name or deal with your crazy ideas again.” He scowled. “Why aren’t you in cuffs?” He waved over one of the officers. “This woman’s wanted for murder. Why isn’t she under arrest?”
The uniformed officer paused, seeing Dylan’s angry glare, then moved to stand beside Jessie. “I’ll ride in with her to the hospital.”
“You let her get away and I’ll have your badge.” The detective spun to snarl at Dylan. “And who’s this?”
Jessie looked from one man to the other. “Dylan McCourt, Harry Lafayette. LVPD detective.” Her tone changed, growing sharper. “My ex-boss.”
Lafayette shrugged off the introduction. “So as I said before—what the fuck is going on here? You’re in way over your head with this shit, and I won’t help…” His words trailed off as Dylan’s hand landed on his shoulder, fingers digging into his black suit jacket.
He stared at Dylan.
It only took a second before he blinked, mentally backing down from the challenge.
Dylan dug into a back pocket and brought out a well-worn business card. He showed it to Lafayette. “This is her lawyer. She’s not saying jack shit to you until she talks to him. At the hospital.” He looked at her. “Understand?”
Jessie nodded, her lips twitching as she held back a smile.
Dylan stuffed the card back into his pocket, waiting for Lafayette’s reaction.
Lafayette looked at him, cycling through expressions like a roulette wheel, finally landing on Scared and Terrified.
“Okay. Whatever.” He threw up his hands and walked away.
Dylan turned back to Jessie. “I agree with your decision to quit the force.”
“Thank you.” She let out a slow, steady breath.
Finn came over, frowning. “Who’s the jerk?” He gestured at Lafayette, now busy conferring with other detectives.
“An idiot who shouldn’t be in charge of anything.” Dylan shook his head. “Tell Coop to meet us at the hospital.” He climbed up into the ambulance. “Call me if anything happens.”
Finn rocked back and forth on his heels. “We’re good. Go get fixed up.”
…
At the hospital Jessie ended up in a corner room behind a set of curtains. The officer who had accompanied her had decided to stand out in the hall. The nurse had been firm about Dylan staying out as well, unwilling to be moved by his argument.
She didn’t mind. It gave her a bit of privacy to clear her mind and figure out what she was going to do.
About herself. About her life. About Dylan McCourt and the Brotherhood.
Within a half hour, a young, wet-behind-the-ears detective had come around to get her statement, Lafayette too afraid to face her for fear of Dylan.
She couldn’t blame him. She’d been constantly on the edge of punching the man in the face during her last few weeks on the force, his nitpicking and whining digging into what little self-control she had left.
He may not have been on Molodavi’s payroll, but he sure wasn’t looking to do much else than skip through until retirement.
Jessie felt bad for the junior detective who had shown up. Before he’d finished introducing himself, Matt Cooper had walked through the curtains with a smile and a warrior’s glare.
The older man deftly blocked the detective with a few words, introducing himself as her lawyer.
She didn’t know anything about him, but he came with Dylan’s recommendation, and she was grateful for it. Matt helped her give a simple statement, enough to please the junior detective and send him on his way.
“Thank you.” Jessie sighed. A headache had started behind her left eye during the discussion, the throbbing pulling her focus away from the situation at hand. “The statement was perfect. Not a chance for them to put any of this on me. On us.” She corrected her phrasing. “I’m used to being on the other side, waiting for a slip up.”
Matt nodded. “I already spoke to Dylan and so knew how we were going to phrase this. Don’t worry, they’re not going to be bothering you again.”
She arched an eyebrow. “I’m still wanted for murder.”
“That’s been dropped. You’re free and clear of all charges.” He smiled. “Work for you?”
“Yes.” Jessie laughed. “Damn, you’re good.”
“So my wife says,” he quipped with a wide grin. “Some of Molodavi’s men are already flipping to get out from under heavy sentences, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that erases the case.”
“Will Molodavi go to trial?”
“Bet on it, one way or another.” Matt smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, he’ll try to cut deals. He’s still got contacts, and he’s going to call in all of his favors. But he’s not walking away from this.” The lawyer stood about six feet tall, with gray hair dotting his otherwise black hair, and maybe pushing fifty years old. “Here.” He gave her a business card. “Call if there’s anything else you need. It’s on the Brotherhood’s tab,” he added before she could ask about payment.
She looked at him. “How did you meet Dylan?”
Matt pressed his lips into a tight thin line before answering. “Afghanistan and Iraq aren’t the only conflicts we’ve been involved in. Once a brother, always a brother.” He smiled. “Get some rest. You’ve had one hell of a day. Dylan’s waiting outside.” He held up his hand before she could protest. “Don’t be mad at him, be mad at me. I insisted you give your statement before you see him again—get it done and out of the way. The officer in the hallway’s gone, too.” He looked up as a doctor and nurse entered, carrying trays. “I’ll send him in as soon as they’re done. Last thing they need is Dylan cooing all over you while they’re trying to work.”
The nurse giggled. The doctor gave Matt a thankful nod.
“Take it easy.” Matt waved as he slipped through the curtains.
…
The doctor was polite, the nurse efficient, and the handful of stitches took almost no time.
“I’m giving you a prescription for an antibiotic. Visit your own doctor in a week to get those checked over and removed.” He eyed her. “Anything else we can do for you?”
Jessie smiled, imagining how she must look to the harried physician. Between police detectives, lawyers, and Dylan waiting impatiently outside, she must look like someone the hospital wanted to get rid of as soon as possible. “I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Good.” He pulled off the gloves and nodded to the nurse. “We’ll get your paperwork in a few minutes, then you can get out of here.”
They left before she could reply.
She sat back on the examination table and mused over the past few days of her life.
There was an emptiness in her heart, the surprising lightness of having achieved justice for her father leaving her almost dizzy.
“Now what?” Jessie said out loud.
“I don’t know. A good stiff drink?” She spun to see Dylan peeking in through the curtains. “Damn,” he said. “You’re dressed.”
Jessie let out a sigh and reached for him.
He stepped into her embrace, his arms going around her as if he were hugging a china doll.
“I’m okay,” she protested and tightened her grip.
“I know,” he whispered in her ear. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hey. I’m made of star stuff.” She pulled back and laughed. “Going to take more than a bullet to slow me down. How’s everyone else?”
“Fine. Nothing worse than bruises and bumps. What’s the verdict on you?”
“A few stitches. Nothing like your collection, but it’s a good start.”
He winced. “I’m sorry. If I had my choice you wouldn’t
have any.”
“Hey.” She drew her finger along his cheek. “If it puts Molodavi away, it’s all been worth it.”
The nurse reappeared and handed her a prescription and her discharge instructions. She looked Dylan over, her lips pulled into a tight smile.
“You’re to take it easy.” She tapped the paper in Jessie’s hands. “Don’t get the stitches wet, and no strenuous activity for a few days.” The nurse smiled. “I’m telling you when I should be telling him.”
Dylan grinned as the woman left. “Am I that transparent?”
Jessie slid off the table and laughed. He winced again as he saw the bloodied bandages, but didn’t comment on them.
“You spoke to Coop, so we’re good to go.”
“He’s an interesting man.” Jessie tucked the papers in her pockets.
Dylan nodded. “Ace is putting a few more steaks on the grill for us, and Lisa’s waiting to see you. Took all he had to keep her from grabbing a taxi over here.”
“Is she okay?” Jessie asked as they pushed through the curtains and out into the corridor.
“From what Ace is telling me, she’s fine. Shaken up, but it’s more emotional than physical.” He smiled as he took her arm, tucking it into his. “We can point her to a good trauma counselor if she needs to talk about it.” He paused. “Damn it.”
Jessie saw the crowd on the other side of the security doors, the reporters waiting for any chance at a story. She stopped, staring in disbelief at the insanity lying past the glass.
The nurse who had helped her previously came up. “They’re all waiting for you. Seems your broadcast made quite the impression.” She smiled at Dylan. “Or you can sneak out the back door into the parking lot.”
He flashed a devilish smile. “We’d appreciate it.”
“Sure.” The brunette waved for them to follow her. “The smokers on the staff prop open the fire door for a little fresh air and privacy. Wouldn’t look good for us to be puffing alongside the patients, so…”
Dylan murmured something into his earpiece as she led them down the stairs.
“Coop’s putting out a statement right now,” he announced as they reached the bottom. “Everything goes through him. Anyone approaches you, you tell them to go talk to him.” Dylan turned to the nurse. “Thank you for your help.” He slid a business card out of his wallet and handed it to her.
Hard Play (Delta Force Brotherhood) Page 20
