“Duck!” Sabrina yelled.
Elizabeth covered her head with her arms and let herself drop to the floor. The man was still clutching her with one arm, and the sudden weight pulled him down so that he was bent over, exposing the man behind him. The other man reached over his accomplice, trying to aim his weapon at Sabrina, but the young woman was faster. She hopped back a step, leveled her Glock, and fired once. A hole appeared in the man’s face where the bridge of his nose used to be, and a geyser of blood, bone, and brain tissue painted the wall behind him.
As this happened, Elizabeth pulled her attacker’s wrist away from her throat and sank her teeth into it. The man howled and released his grip, allowing Elizabeth to fall.
It was all the opportunity Sabrina needed.
Her pistol thundered twice more, and the man fell backward with two nine-millimeter slugs in his chest. She covered the two men for a few more seconds, but neither moved. Pools of dark blood widened slowly beneath them.
Knowing the two policemen were close by now, and no doubt on high alert because of the gunshots, she dropped the magazine from her Glock, ejected the round in the chamber, and set the whole works on the countertop. Glancing up, she saw the man behind the counter, an older fellow with skinny arms and a stringy beard, looking around in open-mouthed shock.
“What the…” he said, nearly hyperventilating.
“The cops are coming,” Sabrina said calmly. “Put your hands up.”
She got down on her knees, faced the door, and raised her hands in the air. Behind her, Elizabeth did the same. A few seconds went by, and then the front door opened and two uniformed policemen—one of them the officer who had tried to stop Sabrina—pushed through the door with weapons drawn.
“Let me see your hands!”
The man behind the counter started crying.
CHAPTER TEN
Gabriel,
Garrett Residence, Garden District
After a long and unpleasant night, at nine in the morning, a knock sounded at the front door. I was seated at the dining room table with Sabrina and Elizabeth. Behind me, standing at the window overlooking the back yard, stood a member of the Blackthorn’s elite Special Tactical Unit, or STU. There were four of them in the house, six more on the grounds outside, and two uniformed CSPD officers on horseback patrolling the neighborhood.
There was a plate of sausage and eggs on the table in front of me. A radio stood beside that, the volume set low so the chatter would not disturb Elizabeth. I had barely touched my breakfast, and Elizabeth did not seem to have much appetite either. Sabrina, however, indomitable creature that she is, had inhaled her meal and was now making coffee.
The knock came again. “I’ll get it,” I said.
I looked through the peephole and saw Special Agent Kaminsky on the front porch flanked by two Blackthorn STUs in full combat regalia. I opened the door and spoke to the STUs.
“It’s okay, Sergeant. He’s authorized.”
The one in charge, Sergeant Stillwell, nodded. “Yes sir.”
He motioned to the other Blackthorn, and the two men went back to their posts. Kaminsky stepped inside and closed the door.
“How are they?” he asked.
I let out a sigh. “Sabrina’s fine. Liz is pretty shaken.”
Kaminsky looked toward the kitchen. “Think they’re okay to give a statement?”
“I believe so. Just don’t push too hard, okay?”
“Gabe, I gotta level with you. I’m under pressure here. We’re talking about a coordinated kidnapping directed at a federal trainee and a US Attorney. My superiors want answers.”
“Me too,” I said. “But this is my wife we’re talking about. So tread lightly.”
Kaminsky frowned, but nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
The two of us filed into the kitchen. Kaminsky walked over to Elizabeth.
“How are you holding up?” he asked, taking one of her hands in both of his.
“As well as can be expected,” she said.
Her face was pale with exhaustion and there were dark circles under her eyes. I really did not want to put her through this, but it was important she give her statement to the FBI while the events of the previous night were still fresh in her mind. The longer we waited, the more facts she might forget.
Sabrina came around the counter with a tray of coffee, cream, sugar, and four small spoons. She set the tray on the table.
“How are you, Stan?” she asked.
The agent accepted a brief hug and smiled wearily. “I’ve had better mornings.”
“So have we.”
“Why don’t we all have a seat?” I said.
The four of us sat down. I turned and glanced at the Blackthorn at the window. He nodded once and left the room. When his footsteps were out of earshot, Kaminsky took out his notebook, a voice recorder, and a pen. I poured coffee for everyone, adding cream and sugar for Kaminsky. He accepted the cup, thanked me, took a couple of sips, and set it on the table.
“Are we ready to get started?” he asked, glancing back and forth between Sabrina and Elizabeth. Sabrina said she was, and Elizabeth nodded with her eyes closed. Kaminsky turned on the recorder, gave his name, the date, who he was interviewing, what case it pertained to, and then set the recorder on the table.
“Mrs. Garrett,” he said. “Could you please recount for me, to the best of your recollection, the events of yesterday afternoon, starting with when you left the federal courthouse?”
Elizabeth’s version of things was short. Her afternoon was perfectly normal until Sabrina arrived at Philly’s sandwich shop just ahead of two armed thugs hell-bent on abducting her. I tried to stay calm during her account of the fight that followed, but my hand kept tightening around my coffee mug and my teeth would not stop grinding. Elizabeth reached a hand under the table and lightly patted me on the thigh. I looked at her and saw her smiling gently. My hand covered hers and I smiled back. The soft warmth of her skin cooled my blood until it was back below boiling.
Sabrina’s statement came next. It was straightforward, factual, and devoid of emotion. Listening to it, I knew I should be horrified. I should be appalled at the danger my little girl had been in. She could have been killed, and very nearly was. But in truth, a surge of emotion welled up in my chest that threatened to constrict my throat and obscure my vision. She had remembered her training and done exactly the right thing at the right time. Not only had she proven her courage, skill, and ability to think on her feet, she had also demonstrated good instincts and a fighting spirit that simply cannot be taught. She had stopped three armed men and left them bleeding on the ground. She had saved her stepmother from being abducted. She had endured the police’s suspicion and being taken into custody and being held and questioned for hours until Stan and I could get her out. And she had emerged from it grinning.
I had never been prouder of my daughter.
When he was finished asking questions, Kaminsky turned off the voice recorder.
“Okay,” he said. “I think that’s enough for now.”
The G-man picked up his coffee and took another long sip. It had to be cold by now, but he did not seem to mind.
“So, what are we dealing with,” Elizabeth asked. “Off the record. Who were those people?”
Kaminsky put down his cup. “Mrs. Garrett, I don’t want to speculate-”
“Don’t hand me that bullshit,” she snapped. “Someone tried to kidnap me, and I want to know who it was. And don’t hand me any of that ongoing investigation crap.”
Kaminsky held up a hand. “Elizabeth, please understand-”
“What I understand, Agent Kaminsky, is you have a reputation for bending policy and procedure when it suits your purposes. I also understand that your entire agency answers to a man whose office sits just down the hall from mine. I will find out what I want to know, even if I have to make my own inquiries. I just thought it might go easier for you if you tell me yourself.”
Stan let out a long breath and
sat back in his chair. “Off the record?”
“Completely.”
“Nothing I’m about say here leaves this room, agreed?”
“Of course.”
He looked at me and I nodded. Sabrina made a zipping motion across her face and flicked her fingers.
“Alright. Here’s what I know. We’ve identified the bodies of the dead men as known members of the Storm Road Tribe. Are you familiar with that group?”
Elizabeth nodded. “The name has come up a few times. Who were the men?”
“Pre-Outbreak they were convicted felons with offenses ranging from drug trafficking to attempted murder. As for their position within SRT, we’re not sure. Probably mid-level. Done enough for the gang to be trusted, but not so much they weren’t expendable.”
“Makes sense,” Elizabeth said. “Any clue why they came after me and Sabrina?”
“That’s the part that has me puzzled. I’m really not sure at this point.”
“Any theories?”
“Plenty. Could have been a ransom kidnapping. Could be they found out Gabe has been assisting the investigation and thought kidnapping you would be a way to turn him into a double agent. Could be all of the above, or something else entirely. It’s impossible to say at this point.”
“What happens now?” I asked.
“Now, we continue investigating. As for SRT, they have to know by now their plan failed, which means they know we’re onto them. They’ll go to ground and lay low for a while.”
“Do you have any confidential informants helping with your investigation?” Elizabeth asked.
Stan gave a sly smile. “A small army of them. SRT is not well liked. That’s how we’ve learned as much as we have.”
Elizabeth rubbed her eyes. “You might want to tell them to lay low for a while too. If SRT is as bad as I think they are, they’ll be looking to burn anyone close to them. This kidnapping attempt is going to bring a lot of heat. They won’t take a chance on anyone talking.”
Kaminsky nodded. “Already on it.”
“Good. Is there anything else you need from us?”
“No, I think we’re good for now. If you remember anything else, either of you, don’t hesitate to contact my office.”
“We’ll be sure to do that.”
Elizabeth stood up, leaned over me, and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m going to bed. Will the guards be here all day?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Tell them to keep it down, will you?”
“You won’t even know they’re here.”
“I think I’m going to do the same,” Sabrina said. “I’m beat. Stan, do you mind calling the Academy for me?”
“Not at all. The director of training for Homeland Security is a friend of mine. I’ll talk to him.”
“Thanks, Stan.”
Sabrina headed toward the upstairs loft where she preferred to sleep. Stan and I stood in the kitchen for a few seconds, the silence in the room weighing down on us.
“This is personal now,” I said. “You understand that, right?”
“Yeah. I understand.”
“If you don’t include me in the investigation, I’ll conduct my own. And Stan, as much as I like you and consider you a friend, I really don’t give a shit whose toes I have to step on. You follow?”
“I follow. But you also have to understand I can’t keep you on as a consultant anymore. In the eyes of a prosecutor, it would compromise the investigation.”
“I’m not asking for that. I just want to be kept in the loop.”
He thought about it briefly. “We’ll have to be careful. You’ll have to keep quiet, and you can’t take any action without talking to me first.”
“Fair enough.”
We shook on it, and I let Stan out through the front door. As he was leaving, I saw a carriage pull up to the gate at the end of the property. The STU operators trained their weapons on it from concealment and kept it covered. I tensed and put my hand on the Sig Sauer P229 at the small of my back. Then the door to the carriage opened and Eric Riordan climbed down. A few seconds later, several other familiar faces emerged.
I took my hand off the gun, told the STUs to stand down, and walked toward the gate.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Heinrich,
SRT Safe House, Refugee District
He sat in the same shipping container he had a couple of days before and waited.
The interior was dark, the lantern hanging from the ceiling doing little to chase away the shadows beyond its circle of light. He did not mind. The gloom matched well with the thoughts turning over in his mind.
How could it have all gone so badly? He had planned everything down to the smallest detail, leaving no room for error. The best men for the job, the right terrain, established exit routes, even the precise time of day things were supposed to go down. All his men had to do was execute. And if they had, if they had gotten the girl and the lawyer, he would have owned that bastard Garrett. He could have turned him, sabotaged the FBI’s investigation from the inside, and brought down the Blackthorns all in one fell swoop.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He had trusted his men to accomplish the task, and they had failed. He’d had no reason to think they would. They had handled more difficult jobs in the past with no screw-ups. So, what had gone wrong?
Two muted thumps sounded from above, followed by two more. Heinrich looked up.
“I’ll check it out,” Maru said as he stood up.
Heinrich nodded and remained in his chair. The other men in the container stirred and rose to their feet, weapons at the ready. They all knew one of two things was happening. Either the feds had found them and were moving in, or the grab teams had found Reed and were bringing him in for interrogation. Heinrich fervently hoped it was the latter. He did not want to see two years of grueling work go up in flames because of one botched operation. A few seconds later, Maru came back down from the hatch leading to the upper levels. His demeanor was calm. Heinrich felt himself relax.
“They got him, Chief.”
“Good. Bring him in.”
“Right.”
Maru climbed back up. There was shuffling and the sounds of strained voices above. Reed’s head cleared the hatch first, followed quickly by the rest of him. He turned as he fell and landed hard on his side. A grunt of pain made it past the bundle of cloth tied around his mouth. His hands were bound behind his back, but his feet had been left free so he could walk.
“Secure his legs,” Heinrich ordered. “Put him in a chair.”
The enforcers tied Reed’s legs together at the knees and ankles and propped him up in a chair. Heinrich stood in front of the man in the pool of light cast by the lantern and drew his knife. Reed began struggling, trying to squirm out of his chair. Heinrich leaned down and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Reed, calm down. I’m going to cut off your gag. Okay?”
He stared for a few seconds, then nodded quickly. Heinrich slid the blade under the cloth and sawed a few times. The material parted and Reed spit out the gag. Heinrich patted him on the shoulder, grabbed a chair, and sat down in front of him.
“Okay. Tell me what happened.”
“God, I’m so sorry, Chief. It wasn’t my fault.”
“No one is laying blame here,” Heinrich said softly, his tone encouraging. “I just want to know what happened.”
Reed struggled upright and flexed his jaw a few times. “It was Thomas. He changed the plan.”
Heinrich’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“We were supposed to hijack her carriage, right?”
“Right. Anywhere in the southern part of Downtown.”
“Yeah, well, Thomas got nervous because it was taking too long. We didn’t see her. There were other people leaving in carriages and it was getting dark and we didn’t have a visual. He was worried we might have missed her.”
“Okay. What happened next?”
Reeds expression grew pained. “He told me to
scout ahead.”
“Scout ahead,” Heinrich said quietly. He felt an unpleasant warmth take hold in his stomach. “Where?”
“There was a restaurant across the street from the Academy. He told me to blend in there and hold position.”
A blink. “Blend in. He told you to blend in?”
“Yeah.”
“With a bunch of fucking teenage feds?”
“Yeah, that’s what he told me to do.”
A long breath. “Okay. Then what?”
“I spotted the girl. She was right across the street, not twenty feet away.”
“And then?”
“I radioed in. And Thomas, he uh…”
“He what?”
Reed swallowed hard. “He moved in on horseback.”
Heinrich ground his teeth and asked Reed to repeat himself. The man did. Heinrich lowered his face and rubbed his forehead.
Stupid, he thought. That stupid motherfucker, always trying to impress me.
Heinrich knew the rest. One of his informants in CSPD had given him a copy of the police report. At first, he had thought it was some kind of trick. He’d even had two of his men follow the cop and see who he talked to. If they saw any indication he was setting Heinrich up, they were to take him out and return to base. But so far, none of the reports indicated a setup. The cop had gone back to his precinct, worked his shift, drank a few beers with his dinner, and then gone home.
Which could only mean one thing—the police report was the truth. Thomas had fucked up royally. Not only had he let the girl escape, but he had alerted her to the attempt on her stepmother, the US Attorney.
Heinrich scooted his chair forward and leaned forward so his face was close to Reed’s. “So why didn’t you go after the girl? You know the protocol. If you can’t grab her, then at least make sure she doesn’t talk.”
“Chief, I…”
“And not only did she talk, Reed, she killed Burns and Altman. And the fucking fed lawyer got away. And now we have every cop and fed in the city hunting our people down. Do you realize how big of a shitstorm this is? This could ruin everything we’ve been working for.”
Surviving The Dead | Book 9 | War Without End Page 8
