by Debra Webb
And hadn’t she told him those decisions could wait? She’d told herself she wouldn’t pressure him into doing what she wanted. He’d been exiled from everything he’d known and loved. That experience had to have an effect. She needed to give him the time and space to adjust.
Except she didn’t see anything so different from the man she’d fallen for, married and built a life with. He was the same in all the ways that mattered. Focused, strong, determined. Protective and honorable. His choices, though difficult on all of them, proved it. Why couldn’t he see himself through her eyes?
“Hang on.” His jaw clenched, the muscle in his profile jumping.
“Frank?”
“We’re staying put,” he said in that ironclad tone no argument would overcome. “Farrell is here.” He dropped the binoculars and raised the camera once more.
A ripple of excitement coursed through her body. She wanted to get down there immediately. “Mr. Accounts Receivable. Can we intercept him?”
“And what would we do with him?”
She arched an eyebrow, her silence speaking volumes.
“Aside from tear him limb from limb,” Frank said. “Or demand statements that won’t hold up in court.”
She jerked her thumb toward the pier. “He’s diverting at least one container labeled for military use,” she said. “That will get someone high on the food chain involved, right?”
“If the someone offering up the tip isn’t wanted for treason, fraud and now murder.”
She swore against his logic. “Mitigating circumstances. I’m calling the police unless you have a better suggestion.”
He sighed as he put his camera back in his pocket. “I’ll create a distraction and you do what you can.”
“Just you and me?” Did he think she wouldn’t notice his avoidance of Leo Solutions’ resources?
“I’ll need a two-minute head start,” he said as they crossed the street once more. “When all hell breaks loose, you can go in and do what you can.”
She caught his shirtfront before he could dash off and planted a kiss on his lips. It was quick, but it sizzled right through her. “Be careful.”
He nodded, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “You, too. We’ll meet back here.”
During her two-minute delay, Sophia sent a text to Frankie: Don’t worry, sweetie. We’re all going to be okay. Her time up, she strolled down the pier, walking with purpose but not fast enough to draw attention. It didn’t really matter. Halloran’s men knew who she was, and though she couldn’t see them, she knew they had to be watching.
* * *
FRANK STUCK TO the shadows of equipment waiting to be put back in use, clearing every corner and roofline. The spies were gone or had found better perches. No one was watching the pier at all right now. Frank counted his blessings and pressed on.
Getting in and out would be easier at night, but if they waited, any product or evidence might be gone. As he searched for the right distraction, he thought an explosion would be ideal. He’d love to plant it in the heart of World Crossing and call the mission complete. Except that left Halloran out there free to start over with a different crew.
One thing he’d learned since going undercover for CID was how many people could be manipulated for the smallest stakes. It made him wonder what kind of world he’d been safeguarding throughout his career.
His jaw set, Frank paused to listen at the open bay door. Hinges squeaked and voices rose and fell with excitement. An engine whined and he peered around the corner as a forklift with yet another sand-colored container moved up along the pier.
He had to come up with something fast. Sophia wouldn’t wait forever and Halloran’s crew probably wouldn’t stick around admiring the haul much longer. Frank jogged ahead and waited for the forklift operator to drive by on his way back to the ship.
The machine moved at a good clip, but Frank caught it, hauled himself up and pushed the surprised driver out of the seat. Turning the machine around, he drove straight to Hellfire’s warehouse.
Farrell and the men with him saw Frank coming and scattered. A few bullets sparked off the forklift. He kept the machine moving, driving right through the door as they tried to lower it. Metal screeched and groaned. Gunfire erupted, echoing through the warehouse as more bullets ricocheted around the space.
He did as much damage as he could with the forklift, hoping like hell the chaos gave Sophia enough time to pull something useful from the computers. He picked his targets carefully, systematically clearing a path to return to the car. He had to keep them engaged, but if they took him down, Sophia would be trapped. Any second now they’d have men on the roofs with a better firing angle. He had to get her clear before that happened.
A high-pitched scream carried over the cacophony and froze him in place just outside the warehouse.
The gunfire ceased and a deep voice taunted him, “Give up the fight, Leone.”
Frank peeked at the man shouting, saw it was Farrell and quickly decided that was the only good news. Halloran’s crew had Sophia surrounded. Farrell had pushed her to her knees, holding her by her hair. Four men fanned out around them, all of them focused on the trashed bay door and the forklift idling noisily.
“Give up,” Farrell called out again, “and I’ll let her go.”
“Don’t do it!” Sophia’s shout ended in a sputter. Frank’s vision hazed red—someone had struck her. He moved silently to a better vantage point, forcing himself to think as a tactician rather than an enraged lover.
She didn’t need to worry that he’d believe any promises from Farrell. The man was scum. Taking in the situation, he continued his assessment. Halloran and Hellfire hadn’t succeeded because they were sloppy or lazy or left a flank uncovered. They were a brutal team, led by a smart man.
At last Frank spotted the man guarding the path to the front office, and another perched in a makeshift snipers nest in the shelving, covering the men below.
Damn. Even if he had the ammunition, one against seven was long odds. “Way to go, Leone,” he muttered under his breath. What had possessed him to let her come along for this one-way ride?
Obviously, he couldn’t go straight at them. Farrell or any one of the others—likely all of the others—would riddle him with bullets in an instant, leaving Sophia unprotected. Surrendering was out of the question. Farrell would be sure he and Sophia were sinking to the bottom of the sound within the hour.
While Farrell shouted impotently, Frank crept around, looking for something more effective than his pistol. An airstrike or mortars would be helpful about now. Too bad those were out of his reach. With a start, Frank recognized more numbers and crates. Halloran must be diverting weapons shipments along with the drugs.
Frank quickly found the part numbers he wanted. Quietly, he raised the lid on an open crate and found grenades and a launcher. A bit more firepower than absolutely necessary, but he couldn’t help smiling at the potential.
Knowing the guy on the shelves would have the advantage and the best view, Frank took what he needed and shifted to a better strike point. A plan developed as he went along. Take out the guy up top, scatter the others and pick off only enough to ensure Sophia’s safe escape.
Much as he wanted to roll a grenade to Farrell’s feet, he couldn’t risk hitting her or giving them room to take her beyond his reach.
He hefted two types of grenades, his decision made. Making a big enough move to be noticed by the guy nesting in the shelves, he lobbed a smoke grenade in the direction of the office.
The shout from above, along with the pop and smoke, confused Farrell and his men. Frank used those precious seconds to toss an explosive grenade into the steel shelving just under the sniper’s perch. Rifle reports sounded and the bullets flew wide when the shooter realized what Frank had done.
The grenade exploded a
nd that end of the warehouse erupted in dust, fire and bits of whatever product might’ve been stored there. The scream that followed was male this time.
Frank raised his pistol and kneecapped the man closest to the crumpled door. The men flanking Farrell fired, coming closer to hitting Frank’s position.
Above the noise of combat, Frank thought he heard Sophia shouting again. He checked, a murderous urge beating in his blood, only to find her armed and Farrell doubled over.
“This way!” he called to her, pinning down Farrell’s men with covering fire as she ran to join him. Once she was clear, he pushed her behind him and took the pistol she’d taken from Farrell.
He hefted another smoke grenade and rolled it into the space between them and Farrell’s men. They moved closer to the egress, and once Sophia was clear, he pulled the pin and threw another grenade deep into the warehouse. The explosion pushed at the walls as they ran for the safety of the rental car.
Farrell and his men in the warehouse were too busy trying to survive the explosion to give chase. Frank cranked the engine and put the car into Reverse, hurrying away from the compounding destruction as fast as he dared. He wanted to make sure their car wouldn’t be caught inside a taped-off crime scene, but he also wanted to be sure the men didn’t escape the authorities.
Sirens wailed up and down the pier as police cruisers rolled in and a fireboat churned up the water as it rushed into position.
Frank kept the car running, watching it all unfold from the corner of the parking lot. In the passenger seat, Sophia shivered. Her hands were fisted tight enough to turn the knuckles white.
“We’re almost clear.” It was the best reassurance he could offer. Everyone was focused on the warehouse. No one cared about a dark blue sedan.
“You did great,” she said. “Look, the cops have him now.”
Farrell was in cuffs, several of his men behind him. It was a beautiful sight. He turned to kiss Sophia, and his priorities changed when he took a hard look at her. “You’re pale. Are you sure you’re okay?” Her hands were clamped between her legs and he didn’t know what to make of that strange, not-quite-neutral expression on her face.
“I’m fine.”
She didn’t sound fine. “What happened in the office?” He thought about the scream, the way Farrell had cut her off when she shouted. “Are you hurt?”
“It’s not serious.”
He put the car in gear and drove away from the pier, aiming for the nearest hospital. “You need an emergency room.”
“No, it’s not bad, I swear.” Her breath hitched. “A rib. That’s all. We can’t risk an emergency room right now. You’re still wanted for murder.”
“Who cares? I’m not taking any chances with your health.”
“Look at me,” she said when he stopped for a traffic light.
He obliged. There were signs of pain in the set of her mouth, the squint of her eyes. “Sophie.”
“I’d tell you if I needed a doctor.”
“Promise?”
“You can look me over when we get back to the room.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” If he decided she needed medical attention, he wouldn’t let her argue.
“Good.” She raised a hand and flicked it, indicating he should move along. “I saw an email on the system,” she said, her breath catching. “Halloran ordered the warehouse cleaned.”
“Guess we helped him out with that explosion.” Anything that ultimately helped Halloran maddened Frank, but there hadn’t been a choice.
“I don’t think we’ll get a thank-you note.”
His short laugh made her mouth twitch in a semblance of a smile. “Is that all you found?”
“Not even close.” She reached under the collar of her shirt and pulled out the flash drive. “Your distraction gave me just enough time. We’ll see what we have when we get back to the room.”
And after he checked her ribs. “How did you get out of Farrell’s grasp?”
She chuckled and then sucked in a breath at the pain. “He should know better than to put a woman on her knees. His crotch was a prime target. Great job with those grenades.”
“Thanks.”
“One more thing. I changed the passwords, locking them out of the system and preventing them from wiping any more data.”
“Nice.”
“I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” she said.
“Of course not.” In all their years, he’d never seen Sophia do anything other than lead by example. Though he’d prefer to spare her any amount of pain and suffering.
He didn’t let down his guard until they were back in the hotel room with every available lock engaged.
It worried him a little when she didn’t mount much of a protest as he checked her injuries. Her ribs were bruised on the right side, but nothing felt broken. The red welts were already rising and she’d be black-and-blue in the days to come. As she’d said, it wasn’t serious, though she needed rest.
He knew better than to suggest it. “We need supplies to tape your ribs...and something for pain.”
“I’ll be fine.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “Bring me the laptop. You’re going to want to see this right away.”
The familiar gleam in her eye relaxed him more than anything else. Although she was battered and unhappy about it, her focus hadn’t wavered. He helped her get comfortable on the bed, then settled beside her.
Silently, he prayed the risks were about to pay off. He didn’t know what he’d do if they couldn’t get a net over Halloran and put an end to Hellfire.
Chapter Twelve
Sophia inserted the flash drive into her computer, eager for the relief she knew would flood Frank’s face when it all came together. “Getting past the security was easy. They never updated their software and they were too arrogant or neglectful to change the basic admin access codes.”
“Was it too easy?”
She turned her face up to look at him, her gaze dropping to his lips for a moment. Kisses should probably wait. “Are you asking if it was a decoy?”
He nodded.
“I don’t think so. Take a look.” When the files came up, she angled the laptop a bit more for Frank.
He placed his cheaters on his nose and started reading. Those half-glasses shouldn’t be a turn-on. He was so sexy, his serious blue eyes taking it all in. In a silly burst of curiosity she wondered if her cheaters had the same effect on him. The man made her want to sigh, though her aching ribs prevented such a response.
He whistled as she pointed out the files she’d managed to grab. Halloran and Farrell had communicated openly with Engle and the crew through emails they considered secure. “Arrogant bastards,” Frank muttered.
“As I said, he’s ordered inventory cleared out and hard drives wiped. Unfortunately, he can’t finish without the new passwords. He can call in someone to help him get back in, but that will take time.”
“If we’d waited another day, it would’ve been too late.”
She nodded as he continued to read, his eyes narrowing and his lips flat-lining as the scope of Halloran’s treacherous operation started to click. “We have files with monthly reports showing the product and transports. It will take some digging to learn how they diverted the containers.”
Frank grunted. “Special Agent Torres suspected Hellfire was behind some of the lost gear.”
“The proof is here,” she said quietly. “Farrell and Lowry must have won the contract as part of the wink-and-nod system. The contract violations are the least of it.” She adjusted the pillow at her back, giving herself a moment as she opened another window. “There was an archived file on Torres, and another on you.”
“Kill orders.”
She nodded, though it hadn’t been a question. “I can’t believe Halloran
communicated so candidly about the diverted shipments and tweaked manifests, but the murder?”
Frank tugged off his glasses and gave her a weary smile. “Expecting code words and secret handshakes?”
“A girl has her standards,” she said, trying to follow his attempt to lighten the mood. They’d survived to this point and, bruised ribs or not, she wasn’t giving up yet. “Halloran must already know we were there. When he hears where I was found, he’s bound to panic.”
“I’ve been thinking about his exit strategy and options,” Frank said, tapping his glasses against his thigh. “He knows his options. He’s made a plan.”
It took some effort to keep her mind on the data rather than the man beside her while she waited for him to explain.
“How do you suggest we use this?” he asked.
“I’d prefer to send pieces to various places. CID, the reporters and Eddie, too.” She hesitated, a little concerned about his reaction. “Because I wasn’t sure how much time I had in there, I already forwarded a string of emails to Leo Solutions.”
He shifted, dropping his head with a soft thud against the headboard and rubbing his eyes. “Are you using this as leverage against Halloran or me?”
“Oh, stop it.” She would not force him into a reunion he wasn’t ready for, no matter how eager she was to become a whole family again. “You know me better than that. No one at the office even knows to look for the emails.” Yet. “I want to contact Halloran and offer to trade this proof of his crimes for our lives.” That wouldn’t quite restore Frank’s reputation, but it was a step in the right direction. “With CID’s help we can sort out how he railroaded you.”
“Halloran won’t go for it.” Frank stood and started pacing the room. “He knows I have to throw him under the bus to clear my name.”
“We know he’s prepared an escape route. The details might be in here.”
“If they are, he’s moving on to plan B right this minute. At this point, his only chance is to skip the country.”
