Fatal Frost

by Nancy Mehl

  Mercy prayed that their only way out hadn’t just hit the ground. If that were the case, they were in big trouble. She glanced up into the night sky.

  “God, if you’re there, and if you care anything about us, can you please help? Even if you just save Mark and Tally, that would be enough for me. But if you could find it in your heart to give me another chance too, I’d appreciate it. Uh, thank you.” She had no idea if her prayer would do any good, or if anyone was really listening, but it was the best she could do right now. She went back into the house.

  “What’s going on?” Mark asked.

  Not wanting Vargas to hear, she gestured for him to come to where she waited. When he drew near, she leaned in close and told him what she’d just seen. “I have no idea which helicopter was ours,” she whispered, “but we need to prepare. Either we’re going to be rescued, or they’re coming to kill us.”

  “Remember, they still want the flash drive, no matter what Elias says. And we have it and Ephraim Vargas’s son.”

  “Hard to bargain with someone when we can’t communicate. They may come in here shooting first and asking questions later.”

  Mark nodded. “We’ve got to stop them from breaching the house. If they get in . . .”

  “Our only hope is that they’ll try to protect Elias and Angel. That might be just enough hesitation for us to take them down. Hopefully it’ll be Batterson and not Vargas’s men who come through that door.”

  “I can only pray you’re right. But we have to prepare ourselves as if you’re wrong. Even if it is Batterson, we still have a problem.” He quickly told her about Al Thomas.

  “I . . . I can’t believe it.” Mercy shook her head. “Does he know his son is here?”

  “I have no idea. If he does, he’ll try to protect him. But if he doesn’t . . .”

  “What’s going on?” Tally asked. He looked nervous, as did the men sitting on the couch.

  Mercy looked at Mark. What should they say in front of Elias Vargas? Mercy walked back toward the living room. “We need to be prepared, Tally,” she said firmly. “No matter who shows up.”

  Tally frowned, but he didn’t say anything. Mercy wondered if he understood what she was trying to tell him.

  The only chance they had would come from Batterson, but with Al Thomas on the team, anything could happen. Mercy wished she knew what Al intended to do. Would he act on Vargas’s behalf, or would he support the Marshals he was sworn to protect? “Let’s get prepared,” she said. “We need to watch both the front and back entrances. They might try to come up the stairs to the deck and through the kitchen.”

  Mark hesitated. “You saw the crash. Could anyone have walked away?”

  She shook her head. “Doesn’t mean someone didn’t bail out first.” She heard the doubt in her own voice. The truth was, there hadn’t been much time. It was unlikely anyone had survived the awful crash.

  Mark sighed as he went into the kitchen to turn on the backyard lights.

  “Now what?” Tally asked when he returned.

  “We get ready for battle,” Mark said. He motioned to Elias. “Get up.”

  Elias stayed put. “Why?” he asked.

  “You’re our insurance.”

  The man didn’t move, so Mark went over and grabbed him by the arm. “I told you to get up.”

  “What are you thinking?” Mercy asked.

  “We put this scum near the front door. His people won’t shoot right away. Not if they run the risk of hitting him.”

  Elias snorted. “You are delusional. They will not care about me. They only want two things: you and the flash drive. I am simply collateral damage.”

  “Maybe,” Mercy said, catching Mark’s idea, “but Angel isn’t. His father won’t want anything to happen to him.”

  Mark nodded. “Move them both near the front door.” He looked at Tally. “Put the other two by the back door. You watch that entrance.”

  After grabbing Elias and Angel, Mark and Mercy planted them in two chairs at the front entrance.

  Tally secured Manuel and Ace near the door to the deck, tying them to kitchen chairs. “What about the basement door?” Tally asked.

  “I’ll check it,” Mercy said. “So long as it’s locked, it should hold. If they do try to come in that way, we’ll hear them. We’ll take them out before they reach us.”

  “I need to tell Troy what’s going on,” Tally said. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Tell him to hide,” Mercy said. “No matter what happens, he needs to stay safe. If our people come in, we’ll have to secure his father immediately. There won’t be time to—”

  Before Mercy could finish her thought, Mark shouted. “Here they come!”

  Mercy ran toward the front door, her gun drawn. Mark got down on one knee. He faced the door, his weapon ready. Mercy glanced at him once before the door shattered and men with automatic weapons entered the room. But their guns were pointing down, and their attitude was anything but combative.

  Mercy immediately recognized Shauna Sparlin and Tom Monnier. The two Marshals were silent as they dropped their weapons to the floor and kicked them away. As they put their hands behind their heads, Mercy, Tally, and Mark kept their guns trained on them, not sure what to do next.

  Then Batterson came through the door with his hands up. Al Thomas stood behind him, the barrel of his weapon pressed up against Batterson’s back.

  “Put your guns down,” Al called out. “Now. I don’t want to shoot the chief.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” Batterson said. “Do your job.”

  Batterson hit the floor, leaving Al exposed. It was the perfect time to take him out, but right before she took the shot, Mercy heard another voice.

  “Dad!”

  She spun around to see Troy standing on the other side of the room, staring at his father.

  “Get up,” Al yelled at Batterson. He grabbed him by the collar and jerked him to his feet, once again using Batterson as a shield.

  Mercy had lost the moment. Had her hesitation cost them their lives? Had she just made another mistake—like the night she was shot?

  Mark and Mercy looked at each other. What could they do? They didn’t want to shoot Troy’s father right in front of him, but they couldn’t let Vargas go free. They were all dead if that happened.

  “Troy, go back to the bedroom,” Tally said, “and stay there until I come for you.”

  “Please, son, do what he says.”

  Even though Mercy was furious with Al Thomas’s betrayal, she couldn’t help but feel compassion for him. His tortured expression showed the conflict in his soul. She decided to use it to their advantage.

  “Al,” she said evenly, “we’ll get you and Troy out of St. Louis. Give you a fresh start. You know we can do it. Just step away from the chief. You don’t want to do this.”

  Al shook his head. “It’s too late for that. I’ll go to prison. I can’t let that happen. I’m all Troy has.”

  “We can make a deal, Al,” Batterson said. “We can keep you out of prison. If you help us take down Vargas, I guarantee the state will work with you. Ending the Vargas cartel is huge. You know that.”

  “Please, Dad,” Troy said. “I’m sorry for getting you in trouble. Please take the deal.”

  “If you betray me, your son will pay the price,” Elias said, his words spoken with staccato precision. “We have long arms. Even if you manage to take us in, the Vargas cartel will survive. However, you and your son will not.”

  “Shut up,” Tally said. “Troy, please go back to the bedroom.”

  Tally was trying to get the kid to safety just in case something went wrong. For the first time, Mercy noticed Shauna’s rifle lying just a few feet from where Troy stood. Obviously, Tally had seen it too and wanted Troy as far away from it as he could get. Troy had just taken a step back as if he were going to the bedroom when Angel jumped up and grabbed the gun out of Al’s holster. Somehow he’d managed to free himself of his bindings. As if in slow motion, Merc
y saw Troy pick up Shauna’s rifle and point it at Angel. Before she could stop him, Troy pulled the trigger. His shot went wild, over Angel’s head. Angel fired back, his reaction automatic. As soon as the bullet hit Troy, Angel cried out. He threw his gun down and ran over to the teen, who was lying on the floor.

  “I didn’t mean to shoot him,” Angel kept saying, over and over.

  Tally ran past Mercy and dropped to his knees next to Troy. He started administering CPR, but Mercy could tell that it was too late. Nothing could help Troy now.

  “I’m sorry,” Angel said. “I just reacted. I didn’t mean . . .”

  Those were the last words Angel Vargas ever said. Al Thomas began firing into Angel’s body, his face a contorted mask of grief.

  Tally stood slowly. He was covered with Troy’s and Angel’s blood. He forcibly took the gun from Al’s hands. Then he slumped back down on the floor and began to cry.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Four

  “I want to commend you both for your exemplary work in this situation,” Batterson said.

  Two weeks had passed since the confrontation in Piedmont. Mercy had spent six days in the hospital being treated for a concussion. Afterward, Batterson sent her home to rest and recover while insisting she see Dr. Abbot and complete her sessions. Surprisingly, Dr. Abbot seemed to be helping her. Mark teased her that it only took being captured by a dangerous cartel and suffering a concussion to get her to open up. Even though he wasn’t serious, there was more truth to his statement than he realized. Facing the possibility of losing the people she loved had broken something open inside her. Mercy felt she’d lost enough already. She wasn’t ready to lose anything else.

  Hearing God speak to her in the middle of a blinding snowstorm had changed her. Though she might be tempted to chalk it up to her imagination, she knew deep in her heart that God had reached out and touched her. There was no more doubt in her mind that He was real and that He’d heard her desperate prayer for help. Mercy could feel healing happening inside her—in the deepest, darkest places of pain. It was as if God held the key to everything that had kept her in bondage since she was a child. The little girl was healing—as was the woman.

  Mark had spent a week and a half in the hospital after infection set into his gunshot wound, but when he got out, he and Mercy spent a lot of time talking. Mark had to tell her something that was difficult for her to hear. Batterson had worried that she might be the mole because Nick had kept some of the money given to him by Darius Johnson. He’d set up a bank account in Mercy’s name. While it was the wrong thing to do, Mark believed Nick’s love for his daughter was so strong that he’d convinced himself it was okay. It was Nick’s desperate last attempt to let Mercy know he cared for her, a way to take care of the daughter he’d abandoned.

  At first Mercy was angry when she found out what Nick had done. How could he do something so stupid? But with Mark’s help, even though she couldn’t respect Nick’s actions, she realized that her father was human. Imperfect. With time she knew she would come to forgive him.

  She realized too that Batterson was talking and so forced herself to concentrate on what he was saying. She would have plenty of time to sort out her feelings about Nick later.

  “. . . back to full-time duty.” He frowned. “Is that all right with you?”

  Mercy wasn’t really certain what he’d just said, but she nodded anyway. “Yes, sir.”

  Batterson leaned back in his chair and sighed. “We lost a good man in Al Thomas. We need to keep a closer watch over our people. Vargas used Carol and Al against us. That can never happen again.”

  “What about the cartel?” Mark asked. “I know charges are being filed against Elias. What about Ephraim? Is there enough evidence against him to end his activities?”

  Batterson grinned. “There is now. You remember Manuel? The Vargas thug you almost shot?”

  Mark nodded.

  “Well, his real name is Mario Cortez. He’s the undercover fed who’s been embedded in the Vargas cartel for the past three years. He’s got the goods on them. Everything. The cartel has imploded.”

  Mercy’s mouth dropped open. “So he’s the guy who was deep undercover? Why didn’t he tell us who he was? Wow . . . what if we’d taken him out?” As soon as she asked why they hadn’t been informed, she knew the answer. He couldn’t risk blowing his cover. Not until he was confident Ephraim Vargas couldn’t wiggle out of a conviction.

  “We appreciate your not shooting him,” Batterson said dryly. “Mario worked hard to stay out of the line of fire. And he was able to keep his undercover identity intact throughout the entire operation. But in the end, with the video you turned over to the feds, it was obvious the time had come to step forward. He has detailed records of Vargas’s activities and drug pals. It’s over for Ephraim. The feds also cut a deal with Elias, and he’s turned on his brother. We don’t have to worry about the Vargas cartel anymore.” He shook his head. “Of course, another one will jump in and take its place. So long as there are gangs, illegal drugs, and cartels, we’ll be fighting to keep their influence out of our cities. Too often it’s a losing battle. I’m happy we won for once.”

  “What will happen to Al and Carol?”

  Batterson shrugged. “Not sure. We’ll do what we can to help Al, but I’m not inclined to speak up for Carol. Al was trying to protect his son. Carol betrayed us for the money.”

  “She said it was for Marlon,” Mercy said.

  “I don’t buy it,” Batterson said. “She could have come to me for help. Down through the years, I’ve worked with her when she needed it. She might have tried to convince herself it was for Marlon, but I think Carol was in it for herself.”

  “What about Marlon?” Mark asked.

  “He’s staying with us for now. We applied to be foster parents and were accepted. When Carol is finally free, maybe she can mend things with her son.” Batterson stood, a sign that they were dismissed.

  Mark rose from his chair and held out his hand. Batterson shook it. “Thanks, Chief.

  “Thank you both.” He shook hands with Mercy as well. “I’m proud of you. Sorry you ended up in that situation. I never thought things would go so wrong. You two—and Lieutenant Tally—deserve the credit for our excellent results.”

  “I wish Troy hadn’t died,” Mercy said. “Or the real Detective Jess Medina. They both deserved better.”

  “I agree,” Batterson said. “But their deaths weren’t your fault. If anyone is to blame, it’s me. If I’d just gotten a team to the correct address a little sooner, Troy might still be alive.”

  “There’s plenty of blame to go around,” Mark said, “and it doesn’t rest with you.” He raised a hand when Batterson tried to protest. “I know, I know. The buck stops here. But it wasn’t your fault Carol turned on us. Nor was it your fault Al made the choices he did. Let’s put the blame where it belongs—on the cartel.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Mercy said. “Dr. Abbot says I need to give myself a break. How about we all give ourselves a break? We did the best we could under the circumstances. No one can do more than that.”

  Mark laughed lightly. “Did you just say that? Who are you, and what have you done with Mercy Brennan?”

  Mercy smiled. “I’m not sure. It may take us a while to answer those questions.”

  Mark looked into her eyes. “I have all the time in the world.”

  Tally watched the front door of the café, waiting for Mercy. Even though it had been only a couple of weeks since they were rescued from the house near Piedmont, it felt like a lifetime ago. He was still trying to deal with Troy’s death. At first, he blamed himself, but Annie had finally convinced him he wasn’t responsible. Still, he wished he could have saved the kid.

  He’d come home determined to open up the lines of communication between Josh and him. They’d had several good conversations. Josh was still worried about him, but Tally did his best to explain how important protecting the public was. He told Josh that there were ot
her kids out there who also wanted their fathers to come home, and the police were there to make sure that happened. Josh seemed to understand. A promise that Tally would do everything he could to stay safe helped too.

  He’d kept in touch with Al. He felt that by being supportive of Troy’s father, it was helping Troy in the only way he could. Al was in a dark place and would face charges for killing Angel, and it would take time for him to recover from losing his son. But with a lot of help, Tally believed, Al would make it.

  The front door opened, and Mercy walked in with Mark behind her. Tally couldn’t help but smile when he saw her. She had changed since Piedmont, and it made him happy to see her so free. It had been a long time coming.

  “Hey,” he said as they approached the table. “Been a while, Mark. You look much better.”

  Mark smiled as he sat down. “I slept for twenty hours straight after they put me in the hospital. That probably helped me more than anything else.”

  Mercy laughed. “I think cleaning the infection out of your system was an important part of your recovery too.”

  “Maybe so, but sleep felt a lot better than that did.”

  “Are you both back on active duty?” Tally asked.

  “Starting tomorrow,” Mark replied. “Today’s our last day to be lazy.”

  “We’re going to the zoo after lunch,” Mercy said. “Do you want to join us?”

  Tally shook his head. “Too cold. For some reason, spending the day outside in freezing weather doesn’t really appeal to me.”

  Mercy grinned. “That experience didn’t help much with your phobia, did it?”

  “Actually, you might be surprised.”