Zeke snorted at the Die Hard reference. “What the hell? We don’t have a Turner in this office. He called your cell?”
“No, he called the motel room’s phone.”
“Shit. So they already know where you are. Any idea how they tracked you?”
“The SUV’s pretty shot up—maybe someone spotted it. Listen, the important thing is that he thinks I bought his story. He’s planning to meet me, Sam, and Glory at the gas station across the street at two o’clock. That gives us enough time to set up a sting.”
“You mean enough time for me to set up a sting,” Zeke corrected. “I’ve assembled a small group of trusted colleagues. We’ll be ready.”
“I want to be in on it,” Jack said. “I want to get these guys.”
Actually, he wanted to drop them off a skyscraper the same way John McClane had with Hans.
Yippie Ki Yay indeed.
“Sorry, man, but we think it’s better if you sit this one out.”
“Hell, no!” Jack scowled and turned to face the motel. He’d take a bullet for Sam and Glory. No doubt about it. No way would he sit this one out. He couldn’t. Sure, his physical condition might not be what it’d once been, but he was more than capable of holding his own in a fight. Wasn’t he? A new sinking feeling dropped like a grenade in his gut. “You don’t think I’m up for the task?”
“What? No.” Zeke lowered his voice. “If I had my choice of anyone to have my back, I’d pick you, dude. You know that. It’s just that you’re technically civilian now and our policy is to keep civilian involvement to a minimum.”
“Screw your policies.” Jack took a deep breath to relieve the tension bubbling inside him like hot lava ready to explode. “I’ll never be a regular civilian and you know it. Once a SEAL always a SEAL.” Never mind that his arm still ached like a son of a bitch from the bullet grazing it yesterday and his muscles were still sore and bruised. He’d find a way to deal with it. He’d always find a way where Sam and Glory were concerned. “Besides, your traitor agent is expecting me to do the handoff. I have to be there.”
“Dammit. Hang on.” Muffled sounds echoed over the phone line as Zeke conferred with his colleagues, then got back on the line. “What else can you tell me about the guy you talked to? Any distinguishing features about him? An accent? Speech ticks? Anything odd you noticed that might help us identify him?”
“Nah, man. Not really. Other than the bad action movie references, there was nothing.”
“What did he say?”
“He called Sam and the baby ‘precious cargo’,” Jack said, scrunching his nose in disgust. “It was creepy, dude.”
A beat or two passed before Zeke responded. “You know what? That actually might help. There’s a new guy who transferred in from Chicago not long ago and he’s an action movie buff.”
“Sam’s family is from Chicago.” For the first time in recent memory, Jack’s outlook brightened. “You think it might be him?”
“Sounds likely.” Zeke said something to someone offline, then came back to Jack. “Okay. So, you plan on keeping that two o’clock meeting and we’ll work behind the scenes here to round up these bad agents. If all goes well, I’ll meet you at two and take Sam and her daughter into custody. Fingers crossed this will all be over soon, dude.”
Jack ended the call, his feelings an odd mix of anticipation and dread. He’d be glad to have a few more crooked agents from the marshals’ office off the table and hoped Zeke and his team would round them up. But the fact that, in just a few short hours, Sam and Glory would be out of his life forever left a gaping hole in his chest where his heart used to be.
Weird how in just a few short days his universe could change so drastically. Despite his resolve to the contrary, Jack had fallen for Sam heart and soul. But if saving her meant giving her up, then he’d do so, even if it cost him everything in the process.
Twenty
“Okay, it’s almost time. Are you ready?”
Jack’s question reverberated inside Sam’s head like a distant gong. Through the rush of blood in her ears and the nervous adrenaline sizzling through her system, she tried to get her jumbled thoughts in order. She gave a small nod. “Yes.”
“Good. Sit tight here and keep an eye out. If things go south, I’ll give you the signal.” He reached back to take Glory’s tiny hand in his and blow her a kiss, then looked back at Sam. In his eyes she saw a reflection of her own inner turmoil—need, fear, concern, desperation. His expression, though, was pure determination. Jack started to lean in toward her and, for a moment, Sam thought he was going to kiss her. Her pulse quickened and her breath caught, lips parting in anticipation, despite knowing how much it would hurt to let this man go. This was quite possibly their last private moment together before she went back into witness protection. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she needed to tell him, but in the end, the lump in her throat prevented her from saying a word. At the last second, Jack pulled back and exhaled slowly, his gaze flicking from her eyes to her mouth then back again, his lips compressed into a tight white line as he turned away and climbed out of the vehicle. The slamming of the door behind him jarred her back to reality.
As Sam stared at Jack’s back as he walked away from the beat-up SUV, she did her best to concentrate on the instructions he’d given her, doing her best to stay calm for Glory’s sake. The baby, at least, seemed unfazed by it all, happily playing with her toys in her car seat in the back. Sam took a deep breath and stared at the glove compartment in front of her. That’s where Jack had stashed the extra handgun and ammo he kept in the truck for emergencies. There was also enough cash in there to last her at least a week, if she was frugal.
After he’d returned to the hotel room, he’d told her about his conversation with his buddy at the marshals’ office, and how they were planning to set up the rogue agent who had called the room. The plan was to let the bad guys think they were going to get their hands on Sam and Glory, but at the final moment, Jack’s friend Zeke and the marshals would swoop in and save the day. Sam wanted to have faith the whole thing would work, but she was also too familiar with her father.
He wouldn’t give up until she and Glory were back under his control, scared silent. Or dead.
Jack had parked the SUV near the corner of the lot on which the gas station sat, near enough to a busy street that he’d said should deter the rogue agent and his men from doing anything rash, like opening fire on the vehicle.
The thought of bullets flying yet again anywhere near her precious daughter made Sam want to throw up. Poor Glory had already been put in far more danger than Sam had ever imagined because of her wicked father’s actions. If anything happened to her baby now because of him, she wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
Swallowing hard against the burn of hot bile in her throat, Sam squared her shoulders and forced herself to remain alert to the area surrounding them so she could spot any potential threats that might be incoming. Jack had done all he could to ensure Sam and Glory could escape if the plan with his friend fell through. He’d taped plastic over the shattered windows, gassed up the SUV, even taken out the monetary maximum of cash at the ATM. She held the keys in her sweaty palm, the metal digging into her skin, a reminder of what she must do if needed.
She’d walked away from her life before, fifteen months ago when she entered witness protection for the first time. But this time was so much harder. Because of Jack.
Just when sadness threated to overtake her again, a nondescript black sedan pulled into the gas station lot. The car was identical to the one Sam and Glory had been riding in that first night at the rest stop, the night one agent had turned on the other and she’d fled for her life. Other than a few patrons at the pumps, there was no sign of any other government vehicles or Jack’s friend, Zeke. Just a tall guy in a baseball hat filling the tank of his pickup and a woman in a red hoodie doing the same with her minivan.
Sam unbuckled her seat belt and slid down to crouch on the floor, slowly scooti
ng over so she was on the driver’s side of the vehicle. She hazarded a glance back at Glory, who was still gurgling and cooing as she sucked on her plastic keys, and Sam said a silent prayer for her child’s safety.
Careful to stay down as much as possible, Sam inched higher to peer out through the window and spotted two men in black suits walking toward Jack, who waited near the far side of the lot, away from the building, near an air pump. They were far enough away that she couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she saw Jack point toward the SUV and the two men in black turned slightly to glance in her direction. Her stomach cramped painfully and she ducked down again to avoid being seen.
Her pulse jackhammered loudly in her ears and she closed her eyes, running through the actions she’d need to take if things went south—get behind the wheel, get the SUV started, get the hell out of there as fast as possible. Jack had said he’d provide her with all the cover he could during her escape. Said he’d face the devil himself to keep her and Glory safe.
Voices grew louder as someone approached the SUV. Sam gripped the keys in her hand so tightly she thought they might slice her skin. She could pick out Jack’s even tone, and another man, unfamiliar. She assumed it was one of the rogue agents.
“She’s safe, man,” Jack said. “I just want her off my hands. Too much trouble.”
Sam’s heart clenched at the words. Even though she knew it was part of the plan, they still stung. Her father always said the truth hurt, and in this case, it was certainly true. She and little Glory were too much trouble for Jack. They’d disrupted everything in his life, brought violence right to his doorstep when he’d obviously worked hard to leave all that behind after the SEALs. Their leaving would be the best for everyone involved.
Knowing that didn’t make the doing any easier.
“We need to see them, to verify their identities, then transfer them to the other car,” the agent said.
She wondered which boss the guy was referring too, the marshals or her father.
“Trust me, they’re in there. The baby’s sleeping. You don’t want to wake her, do you?” Jack said, his voice tight with tension. “I’ve got no reason to lie to you, man.”
“Pardon me if I disagree, Mr. Williams,” the agent said. The words were followed by the sinister snick of a gun being cocked. Sam’s eyes widened and her heart lodged in her throat. “Open the vehicle and let us see them and we can end this all without a fuss. Nice and amicable. You can be on your way and we’ll be on ours.”
“Hey, there’s no reason for that,” Jack said, his plaid-shirt covered torso now darkening the window above her. “I’m here, aren’t I? I brought them to you just like I said. We’re all on the same side, aren’t we? Put the gun away.”
“You don’t make the rules, Williams,” the second agent said. “Now move, before we move you.”
Trembling, Sam prepared to slide up behind the wheel just as Glory gave a loud squeak. Oh God.
“Is that the baby?” the first agent asked. “Open the door, Williams. Now!”
Where were the marshals? Jack’s friend?
Didn’t matter. Sam had spent most of her life depending on no one but herself, and now was no different. Her life and little Glory’s future depended on getting out of there and getting to safety. She wouldn’t fail because she couldn’t fail.
With a deep breath for courage, Sam eased up toward the driver’s seat, only to crouch back down quickly when gunfire erupted. Maybe the smart thing to do would be to get behind the wheel and start driving…but Jack’s plan went right out the window in the face of her daughter coming to imminent harm. Acting on pure instinct, she scrambled back toward her baby and unfastened the straps holding Glory in her car seat. She shielded the baby with her body as bullets pinged off the SUV and shouts filled the air. Time seemed to slow, though the whole altercation couldn’t have taken more than a few seconds. Glory wailed against her chest, unhurt but unsettled just the same. Sam knew how she felt. She’d never been shot at more in her life than she had over the past few days. Eyes squeezed shut, Sam and Glory huddled in the rear of the SUV. She prayed Jack would be okay, prayed the other agents would arrive and save the day, prayed her father wouldn’t find them again.
Eerie silence followed the firefight, soon broken by the wail of approaching sirens. Tears stung Sam’s eyes. She wanted to look, wanted to see the state of things for herself, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She wasn’t a coward, far from it. But seeing Jack on the pavement, bleeding out, or worse, would kill her.
The sound of the front door of the SUV opening spurred Sam into action. She’d do whatever was necessary to protect Glory, even if it meant taking on her father and all his henchmen directly. The gun Jack had left her was still in the glove compartment, too far away now. All she had were the keys in her hand. Not the best weapon in the world, but effective enough if used properly. Thankfully, she’d taken her share of self-defense classes over the years. She held the keys through her fingers, ready to jab out the eyes of her attacker, despite the horrible shaking in her free hand. With her other arm, she held Glory closer, doing her best to use her own body as armor for her infant.
Just as Jack’s head popped in through the front door, the back door of the SUV opened and there stood the tall guy with the baseball hat she’d spied earlier at the gas pumps. He looked from the keys in her hand to her face, his smile small and genuine. “Miss Engel? I’m Deputy Marshal Zeke Taylor. Jack’s friend. The rogue agents are in custody. You’re safe now.”
Sam’s gaze darted from Zeke, to Jack, who was peering at her over the front seat, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen a more welcome sight in her life. She dropped the keys and promptly burst into tears, same as Glory.
Jack cursed under his breath and disappeared from view, changing places with Zeke to take Glory from her, then help her out of the car. He kissed the top of her head. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you at all?”
“No.” She sniffled against the soft flannel of his shirt, inhaling his good Jack smell and taking comfort in his warmth and strength. She wasn’t some helpless female, but she’d been on her own, been strong for so long, that it felt good to have someone else share that burden, even if it was only temporary. Summoning all her fortitude, Sam pushed away from him and wiped her eyes, taking Glory. “I’m fine. We’re fine.”
For the first time, Sam took in the scene around her. Police cars filled the lot now, lights flashing, as the two rogue agents writhed on the ground, handcuffed, and both bleeding a bit from a couple of nonlethal gunshot wounds.
“What’s next?” she asked Jack.
“Next, we’ll take you into the local marshal’s office in Omaha for a debrief before you go back into witness protection,” Zeke said. “Jack, we’ll need to talk to you too.”
“Fine.” Jack put his arm around Sam’s shoulders and started to lead her over to the minivan driven by the woman in the hoodie.
Much as she loved having him so close, Sam knew that the end was near. Best to prepare herself now. She shrugged off his arm and walked on ahead, doing her best to ignore the hurt in his eyes. “Thanks for your concern, but I got this.”
Twenty-One
To say Jack felt on edge would’ve been the understatement of the century. Of course, the way Sam had all but shut him out after what happened at the gas station didn’t help either. Then there was being inside a stuffy government building. He felt caged and restless and ready to gnaw through a wall to get to Sam and Glory in the next room. The ride to Omaha had been quite and tense.
“You okay, man?” Zeke asked from across the conference table, his dark eyes narrowed and far too perceptive for Jack’s comfort. “You look a bit… rough.”
Jack felt a bit rough too, especially after how close those two rogue agents had come to shooting the two women he loved most in the world. If he hadn’t managed to wrestle the gun away from the one guy while Zeke and his team moved in on the other…
He shuddered at the thought of w
hat might have happened.
Nope. Not going there. SEALs were trained to stay present, stay in the now, react to what they saw and heard in the moment. That’s what kept them sharp. Jack might’ve lost a lot from his SEAL days, but that much was ingrained in him so deep it had become part of his bones, his marrow. He shook off his churning emotions as best he could and concentrated on the discussion happening around him.
“I’m fine,” he said to Zeke, then stared down at the file in front of him. “So, you’ve got someone on the inside of Engel’s circle?”
“Not one of ours. FBI. Guy’s been under deep cover with Engel for a year now. He’s been feeding us intel when he can though. Until Engel managed to get a few marshals in his pocket, the intel was enough to help us stay one step ahead with Sam and the baby, moving them whenever Engel got too close.”
Scrubbing a hand over his face, Jack exhaled slow. He’d always known that Stefan Engel was bad news. But what kind of monster was willing to kill his only daughter and infant granddaughter to keep himself safe? Stefan Engel, apparently. Jack’s gut knotted tighter as he stared at the transcript of the FBI agent’s last intelligence on the mobster. Engel’s plans to deal with Sam and Glory were laid out in excruciating detail. Find them. Eliminate them.
“What about the rogue agents? You get anything from them yet?” Jack sighed and closed the file, squeezing his tired eyes shut. He hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep in days. He doubted he would for a while either, at least until Sam and Glory were safe. If they’d ever be safe while Stefan Engel was still alive.
“They aren’t talking.” Zeke shrugged, his dark skin contrasting with the white of the button-down shirt he’d changed into once they were back in the office. He and Jack had weathered some of the worst fighting in the Middle East and Syria together. Putting your life on the line like that forged strong bonds of trust. That’s why Jack had been willing to put his life—and Sam and Glory’s—in his hands. “Engel’s put the fear of God in them. Rightly so. That guy’s a real piece of work. He’s ruthless and relentless. If he’s managed to breach our defenses here at the marshals’ office, who knows where else he’s got people watching. As such, I think it’s time we kicked this security detail to the next level.”
The Protective SEAL Page 12
