Christmas Guardian

by Delores Fossen

  Kinley made the call and told the 9–1-1 dispatcher that someone was shooting at them. She gave them the address and hung up. Jordan estimated it would be at least five minutes before the cops arrived.

  During that time, anything could go down.

  The adrenaline spiked through him, but he kept his breathing level. Kinley couldn’t manage to do the same. Her breath sawed through the small space of the interior, and he knew she was terrified.

  There was movement to his right. The rooftop gunman or someone dressed exactly like him was skulking his way across the parking lot toward the Sentron car. The driver’s-side door of the car in front of them opened.

  And Kinley and he were trapped in the middle.

  A man stepped from the car in front of them. Anderson Walker. He had a gun in his right hand and a cell phone in his left. He pressed something on the phone, and a moment later, Jordan’s own cell phone rang.

  “Jordan,” Anderson greeted, when Jordan took the phone from Kinley and answered the call on speakerphone. “This is how this’ll work. You give us Kinley Ford, and I call off the attack that I’m about to launch on your estate.”

  Kinley gasped.

  “Stay put.” Jordan grabbed her to stop her from getting out.

  “Why would I care if you attack my house?” Jordan bluffed.

  “Because it’s my guess that the kid is there.”

  Jordan forced himself to stay calm. They knew about Gus, and it didn’t matter if they weren’t sure if he was there or not. Cal might not be able to stop a full-scale attack with explosives, and Gus could be hurt.

  “Who are you working for?” Jordan asked the man. Not exactly a stall tactic. He wanted to know who’d orchestrated this. But he also wanted to buy some time for the police to arrive. Not that it would do any good, but he might be able to hurry out of this situation and get back to the estate so he could assist Cal. He’d need a car with undamaged tires for that, and a police cruiser would work.

  “This isn’t time for talking,” Anderson answered. “I figure you’ve already called the cops or one of your G.I. Joe pals and that you’re trying to figure out how to get out of this. Well, there’s only one way. So, I’m giving you ten seconds to hand over Kinley.”

  “I have to do as he says.” She reached for the door handle, but again Jordan stopped her.

  “They’ll torture you to get the antidote. Maybe kill you because you won’t be able to give them what they want. And with all of that, there’s still no guarantee that by sacrificing yourself, you’ll be protecting Gus.”

  The color drained from her face, and her bottom lip trembled. He leaned over, gave her a quick kiss and got mentally ready for what he had to do. Jordan had no plans to die, but it was a distinct possibility.

  “I’m getting out,” he told her. When Kinley started to shake her head, he caught her chin and forced eye contact. “You stay put. I’ll lead them away from the car, but if anyone tries to get in, you shoot them. Understand?”

  She was still shaking her head, but he didn’t have time to negotiate with her. He knew what he had to do, and that was make himself a decoy and hope that he could dodge enough bullets until the cops arrived.

  Jordan opened the door, hit the lock switch and stepped out. He closed the door, locking her inside. She said something to him, something he couldn’t understand. Something he shut out. Because right now the only thing he wanted on his mind was keeping them alive.

  He crouched down, using his car as cover from the rifleman in black, but there could be others waiting to attack. Including the person in the Sentron vehicle.

  “I said I wanted Kinley,” Anderson yelled.

  “Yeah, I know. You’re not going to get her.” Jordan turned, aimed his gun at Anderson. And he knew exactly what the man would do.

  Anderson aimed back.

  And fired.

  Jordan ducked, letting the reinforced body of the Porsche take the bullet. Then he returned fire. The shot slammed into Anderson’s shoulder and sent the man staggering backward.

  There was another shot. From a different weapon, a different angle. It took Jordan a moment to realize the point of origin.

  Kinley.

  She had her window partly down and had shot at the man with the rifle. Hell. That glass was her only protection.

  “Kinley, no!” Jordan shouted.

  But she fired again.

  And missed.

  The rifleman dove behind the concrete pylon that held the streetlight in place.

  Jordan glanced at Anderson. The man dropped to the ground. Probably not because he was dead. He was merely injured and therefore still dangerous. Kinley and he could still be caught in cross fire.

  He heard the siren from a police car. That didn’t make Jordan breathe any easier. This was the deadly time, when Anderson and the other man would either try to escape or make a stand.

  Jordan didn’t have to wait long to find out which.

  The rifleman started shooting at them. Not single shots, but a stream of deadly gunfire.

  “Put up your window,” Jordan told Kinley.

  She did. Thank God. But then she reached over and opened his door. “Get in,” she insisted.

  Since the gaping opening from the door was a bad idea, Jordan fired off several shots at the gunman, added another round in Anderson’s direction, and then he dove inside so he could slam the door shut behind him.

  The shots continued pelting into Jordan’s car. One slammed into the glass, webbing it, but it held in place.

  Jordan spotted the flashing blue lights from the police cruiser as it turned onto the road that led to the row of warehouses. The shooter obviously saw it, too, because he stopped firing, and Jordan saw him start to run. He wanted to follow in pursuit, so he could learn the person’s identity and apprehend him.

  But Jordan couldn’t do that.

  It would leave Kinley vulnerable and in grave danger.

  The Sentron car started to move as well. The driver didn’t come in their direction but instead turned around and made an exit behind the warehouse.

  Anderson, however, didn’t budge.

  Which meant the man might be dead after all. Jordan hadn’t intended that. He needed answers from Anderson, and a dead man wouldn’t be able to tell him who’d hired him to kidnap Kinley.

  With the sirens wailing, the cruiser came to a stop just on the other side of Anderson’s vehicle. The Hispanic officer who got out had his weapon drawn. So did his partner, a female uniformed cop who couldn’t have been much older than twenty-one.

  Anderson still didn’t move.

  Jordan reholstered his gun and handed Kinley his phone. “Call the estate. Speak to Cal and make sure everything is okay.”

  He got out, raising his hands so that the cops wouldn’t think he was the bad guy. “I’m Jordan Taylor,” he announced.

  “From Sentron,” one of the cops added with a confirming nod. “I’m Detective Sanchez.” He looked at the man on the ground. “What happened here, Mr. Taylor?”

  Jordan took a moment, debating how much he should say and how he should say it. “I’m not sure. When my friend and I came out of my warehouse, someone shot at us, and I returned fire. There’s another gunman. Maybe two. They escaped that way.” He pointed in the direction in which the Sentron car had gone. “What about the man I shot? Is he dead?”

  The second officer stooped down while her partner kept watch. Not just of the area but of Jordan. “He’s alive, for now,” the woman announced, and Jordan heard her call for an ambulance and backup.

  “What about you and your friend?” Sanchez asked, walking closer. But he barely looked at Jordan. He was still keeping an eye on their surroundings. “Are you hurt?”

  Jordan looked in at Kinley. She had the cell phone pressed to her ear. She was shaken—and shaking—but they weren’t injured. At least not physically. “We’re okay.”

  Sanchez nodded, though he still seemed wary. With good reason. Jordan’s Porsche was riddled with
pockmarks from the impact of the bullets and a man was lying shot and bleeding on the ground. There’d be reports and an investigation, Jordan knew, but those were things that could wait. First, he had to know if Gus was all right.

  “Cal,” he finally heard Kinley say.

  She didn’t have the phone on speaker so he couldn’t hear what Cal was saying.

  There was a blur of movement from the corner of his eye, and Jordan automatically ducked down. With his gun aimed and ready, Sanchez turned in the direction of the sound. And Jordan got a glimpse of what was going on.

  The gunman dressed all in black leaned out from the side of the warehouse and raised his rifle.

  At Jordan.

  Sanchez reacted quickly and fired. There was the sound of metal slicing through metal when the detective’s bullet slammed into the warehouse. The gunman turned and started to run, following the path that the Sentron car had taken just moments earlier.

  Sanchez went in pursuit and disappeared around the side of the building. Jordan was about to provide some assistance, but then he heard the voice. Not Kinley’s.

  Cal’s.

  She’d put the call on speaker and was holding it out so that Jordan could hear. Her hand was shaking.

  “I was already on the phone to call you. Some men just arrived outside the estate,” Cal said. “Three that I can see on the security monitors. They’re all wearing ski masks.”

  Hell.

  Jordan jumped back into the car. “What’s your immediate status, Cal?”

  “The men haven’t broken in, and I’ve already called my brother at SAPD. But I’m in serious need of backup. Get here fast, Jordan.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Kinley’s heart was in her throat.

  It seemed as if Detective Sanchez was crawling along in the cruiser, but she knew he was going as fast as he possibly could. No speed would have been fast enough.

  At first the two cops on the scene at the warehouse hadn’t exactly wanted to give Jordan and her permission to go, but as soon as backup and the ambulance had arrived, Jordan had convinced them that this was an emergency. So there was now another cruiser with blaring sirens behind them and others en route. Kinley didn’t mind. She wanted every cop in the city at the estate so they could stop her son from being kidnapped.

  When Sanchez turned the corner, she spotted the two cruisers already in front of the house. The blue strobe lights sliced through the semidark street, and there was a pair of uniformed officers on the front lawn.

  No sign of any gunmen.

  Thank God.

  Jordan threw open the cruiser door before Sanchez brought his car to a full stop. Kinley was right behind them with Dexter’s notes tucked beneath her arm, and they sprinted past the officers to get to the house.

  “He’s the owner,” Sanchez verified to the other officers.

  Jordan practically knocked down the front door, and they raced into the foyer. Cal was there, talking to a man in civilian clothes. “This is my brother, Lt. Joe Rico, SAPD.”

  “Is everything secure?” Kinley asked, choosing her words carefully. She had no idea how much Cal had revealed to his brother. Hopefully nothing about Gus.

  “Everything’s safe,” Cal assured her. “The intruders left when the cops arrived. They didn’t get in.”

  Kinley tried to catch her breath, but it was hard. The adrenaline had already soared through her, preparing her for a fight. She grabbed on to Jordan, and he pulled her into his arms. Gus was safe. The kidnapper hadn’t managed to get to him.

  Joe Rico studied them with eyes that were a genetic copy of his brother’s but with a lot more suspicion. “I got a phone report of what went on at your warehouse. I’m guessing these incidents are related to the explosion that happened earlier?”

  “Probably.” Jordan eased away from her so he could face the officer. “This is Kinley Ford. She’s in the federal witness protection program, and someone obviously wants to get to her.”

  The brothers exchanged glances. And concerned expressions. “Do you want SAPD to provide protection?” Joe asked.

  Jordan seemed to have a debate with himself before he finally nodded. “Maybe they can patrol the immediate area just for tonight. Until I can make other arrangements.”

  Joe nodded too and gave a heavy sigh. “I’ll contact the FBI and let them know what’s going on. There’ll be reports to do. And I’ll need to get your statements.”

  “Of course,” Jordan agreed. “I’ve already given Detective Sanchez the weapons we fired.”

  The lieutenant glanced at her and obviously noted the fear and weariness. “Your statements can wait until later. I’ll send a uniform over to take them. Do either of you need to see a medic?”

  “No,” Jordan and Kinley said in unison, and the responses were loaded with impatience. Even though he was Cal’s brother and a likely ally, Kinley wanted him out of there so she could check on Gus.

  “Lock down the place,” Joe said to his brother. “Call me when you decide what you need me to do. I’ll wait out front.” And he headed for the door.

  None of them said anything until Joe was gone and the security system had been reset. “We have to move Gus immediately,” Jordan instructed Cal.

  “Yeah. That’s what I figured. I have the vehicle and everything ready, just like we discussed. I’ll use my brother for backup.”

  Kinley hadn’t been part of that discussion, but she trusted these men, especially Jordan. However, she didn’t trust their situation. Jordan had come close to dying tonight, and these arrangements seemed to be happening way too fast.

  “Let’s get this moving,” Jordan insisted. He hurried down the hall to his office. But stopped when his PDA beeped. He cursed. “Someone’s monitoring us, probably with a thermal scanner.”

  “Please, no,” Kinley mumbled. It meant someone, maybe one of those gunmen, had gotten close enough to the house.

  Kinley considered going to the basement to see Gus, but she knew this would be the faster way to see her son. Jordan clicked on the surveillance, and on the screen, she saw the nannies waiting in the playroom. Pamela was holding a sleeping Gus in her arms. His head was resting on her shoulder, and she had a blanket draped around him.

  “It’s time to leave,” Jordan said through the intercom that carried his voice into the playroom. “Go into the garage through the basement entrance.”

  Kinley started for the door. “I want to say goodbye to him.”

  But Jordan got up and caught on to her. “Sorry. You can’t. They’re monitoring us, and we can’t risk it.”

  Oh, God. It felt as if someone had clamped a fist around her heart. But Jordan was right. She couldn’t put Gus in any more danger.

  “How will Cal get him out?” Kinley heard her voice trembling but couldn’t stop it.

  “We have a plan. The car in the garage is armored and with tinted windows and a thermal blocker for the back area where Gus and one of the nannies will be. It will appear that only Cal is leaving.”

  “But what if someone follows him?”

  “His brother will monitor that. He’ll trail behind Cal to a small private airport about twenty miles from here.”

  She choked back a gasp. “An airport?”

  “It’ll be safer if he’s completely out of the area. Cal’s taking him to a place near Houston. For now. If things heat up, we’ll move him again.”

  Kinley had to sit down, but she refused to lose it. She couldn’t cry because if she started, she might not stop.

  “We need some distractions,” Jordan told her. “Find the number to the prison where your research partner, Brenna Martel, is being held. Use the phone in the hall. It isn’t secure. Someone will be able to monitor the call.”

  She shook her head. “Why would you want that?”

  “I want them to hear. Burke, Strahan and anyone else involved in this will want to know what Brenna has to say, so ask to speak to her. If the guards won’t let you, which they probably won’t, then leave her a messag
e asking her about any research notes she made. If they exist, you want a copy. If not, you want to set up a meeting to discuss everything she remembers.”

  She managed a nod and hoped she could remember all of that. Her head was far from clear, and the only thing she wanted to think about was her baby.

  “While you’re doing that, I’ll find out who was in that Sentron car parked at the warehouse,” Jordan continued. “I’ll make waves while I’m doing it.”

  Kinley prayed the waves worked. Anything to give her son a head start.

  She went several feet away to the phone on a hall table, and using directory assistance, she got the number of Claridge Prison. Kinley made her way through the automated answering system until she finally got to speak to a person at the guards’ desk.

  “I need to get an urgent message to an inmate, Brenna Martel.” She glanced at Jordan, who was making his own call, while she listened to the man tell her why she wouldn’t be able to speak to any of the prisoners tonight. However, he took her message about needing the notes and said he would relay it to Brenna and her attorney. Kinley didn’t know when or if Brenna would get back to her, but it was a start and maybe the diversion they needed while moving Gus.

  Jordan was still on the phone when she went back into his office, but he had the images of the nursery rooms and basement on the screen. Pamela had Gus still cradled in her arms while she, Cal and Elsa were making their way through the basement. With some keystrokes on the security system, Jordan zoomed in on Gus’s sleeping face.

  Tears sprang to Kinley’s eyes. It was so unfair. Here, she’d finally found her precious baby and had had mere hours with him, and now he was being whisked away. Heaven knew how long it would be before she’d see him again.

  Jordan ended the call, stood and watched the images with her. Cal and others entered the garage through stairs that led up from the basement, and without wasting even a second, Cal got Pamela, Gus and himself into a black SUV. Pamela sat in the backseat with Gus. Elsa, however, went to another vehicle in the massive garage. A dark green van. She was obviously going to be a decoy. And from the front security camera, Kinley could see Cal’s brother waiting to follow and back them up.