“Do it.” The Commissioner’s words caused a chain reaction of movement. He glanced at Ryker. “You’ve got to keep your head about you. You will be the difference between Brie coming away from this alive or not.”
“Sir, I’m the reason they brought Brie into this.”
“Bullshit.” Chauncey held up a hand. “The blame for this is firmly on Peña and Rubio.”
Brock cleared his throat. “Do you really think this new player will take out the top of the organization?”
Ryker shrugged. “At this point, I’m praying he does. He doesn’t want a war, and that’s what he’d get if something happens to Brie.”
Brody scratched his cheek. “I don’t know if he knows who she is. Do you think any of them did the research other than perhaps seeing you two together someplace?”
Ryker nodded. “There was a car in the alley. A middle-age couple. I didn’t give that vehicle a second thought. Damn it.”
“Why would you?” The Commissioner moved to take the body armor that the Colonel handed him.
“This is the latest body armor we have. Here is the earpiece. The mic attaches to the body armor and we double-checked the battery.”
“Do you have a weapon?” Chauncey tugged the loop-and-hook tape, opening the armor.
Ryker lifted his leg and removed his off-duty weapon from his ankle holster. The small nine-millimeter would not take down a tank, but it would stop someone if he was close enough.
“That will work. We’ll figure a way to lodge it in a sling, but we’ll need a cloth one, not these straps.”
“Here.” Brody peeled off his light blue long sleeve shirt, leaving him wearing a black t-shirt. “Tie the arms together. The material is dense enough they won’t be able to see the gun.”
“He’ll suspect something.” Brock helped Ryker take off the other sling.
“Yeah, that’s the idea.” Brie's father tied a knot in the sleeve, and they worked together to get his arm back into the triangle of material. “If he is focusing on Ryker, it will give us more opportunity to get our people into position.”
“Do a radio check and then get yourself to the pier at the right time.” Chauncey stopped and leveled a stare at Ryker. “I know you love her, Son, but being a hero and dying will not do her any good. I want you both out of this alive and well. Understand?”
Ryker gulped past the lump in his throat. He nodded rather than spoke. Words right now were beyond him. People caring when the chips were down.
This was family.
His family.
Chapter 17
Brie snapped her eyes open. The thunderous sounds of many heavy footsteps moved past the room they held her in. She closed her eyes again and listened closely. There was a knock on a door down the hall. A few words and a startled yell. Gunfire popped with horrendous clarity. At least ten or fifteen shots. Shouted words echoed loudly and the sound of soles slapping down the hallway again at a faster pace terrified her.
The door to her room opened and the light flipped on, causing her to blink against the brightness. The man from before, the one who’d spoken to her, entered. He approached with a gun in his hand. She shrank back when she saw it.
“This is not for you. Not yet, anyway. I’m going to release your legs and you will walk with me. Try anything stupid and I’ll kill you.” He reached down and unclipped her cuffs from the bar and then released her ankles from it, too. “Get up.”
She rolled to her knees and groaned. The damage the asphalt had done to them speared bolts of pain through her legs. She tried to push herself up, but her legs wouldn't hold her.
“I said get up!” The man jerked her into a standing position and her legs crumpled beneath her. She scrambled to get them to obey. She moved forward when he pushed her, swaying like a drunkard, but she kept putting one foot in front of the other.
She leaned into his hold, needing it to keep her upright as blood returned to her legs. The needles of sensation tattooed pain throughout her lower body, but she kept walking. He stopped her at the door and held her as he dumped a pillow from its case. The material went over her head. “You were unconscious when he brought you here. I do not want you to be able to lead them back here.”
She trembled at the words. It sounded as if he was going to free her… He tugged at her again, and she moved, taking small baby steps until he yanked her. She tried to keep up.
“Stairs.”
Her foot scraped along the top ledge and she slid, stumbling down the steps, only kept upright by the force of his grip on her arm. Finally, they reached level ground. It had to be a massive space. Things, like their movement, sounded different, almost like it echoed.
“Get in.” She could hear a door open and felt a hand on her head push her down. She shimmied into the car and drew her feet up just as the door slammed shut behind her. She could hear the man walk around the vehicle. He talked to someone and then opened the passenger door. So, someone else was driving.
She pushed her feet to the floorboard and hit… a divider. It rattled. Like a cage. “Stay down and don’t move.” Her liberator—or captor—yelled at her. She folded her legs back up and tried to breathe through the mounting fear and almost-crippling anxiety.
The trip didn’t take long. She tried to remember the turns, but there were so many stops and starts. The driver used his blinker to turn corners and to change lanes. Very precise because, yeah, who wanted to be pulled over with a bound woman in the back seat?
Gravel. The vehicle was off the blacktop. It moved forward slowly, and then the brakes squealed slightly as they stopped. She heard the driver put the vehicle into park. The door at her feet opened, and she shuffled like an inchworm backward. That’s when the pillowcase moved and she could see the floor of the car. She paused for an instant when she recognized the metal cage in the middle of the car. It was a police car or a security vehicle. She wiggled back again and awkwardly found her footing. She dragged her chest against the seat, which moved the pillowcase again. The paint was a dark red. A rush of relief filled her. The patrol cars of HCPD were black and white.
The same vicious hold yanked her upright, twisted her around, and then pushed her forward. She walked on the gravel and felt as the ground got… spongy. She took a deep breath through the cotton of the pillowcase. The harbor. They were at the harbor. God, were they going to kill her and dump her in the harbor? All they’d have to do is push her overboard. With the ball gag in her mouth and the cuffs binding her hands, she wouldn’t be able to tread water for long.
“Lift your foot and step in.” She did as he asked, and he pushed her to the side. She stepped down into… a boat. He shoved her in the rest of the way and dropped her onto a seat. She could feel the boat rock as they worked it away from the shore with paddles. The utter silence other than the sounds of the paddles at both sides of the boat was eerie. The harbor was a bustling place. There should be sounds of boats coming and going. She sat quietly for several long moments before she heard the sounds of the harbor.
An inlet or a cove, perhaps? They continued to move for at least ten minutes. Finally, the oars stopped the rhythmic tug and pull through the water. The boat bobbed and scraped against something. She twisted at the sound. “We have three minutes before I’m going to take you up these stairs. You are going to stay plastered to my front. You try to pull away or play dead and you will die. You don’t move unless I move you. Understand?” She nodded and prayed he could see the movement under the pillowcase. “That’s a good girl. If you behave and your captain is smart and does what I’ve told him to do, you’ll live to see the sunrise. If not, I’ll kill you.”
If Ryker did what they told him to do… What had he instructed? She closed her eyes behind the material and felt tears streak down her cheeks. Please, God, whatever was going to happen to her would happen, but she prayed for Ryker. Please, don’t let tonight scar his soul. He carried so many scars already, loving her shouldn’t cause another one. She sniffed, trying to clear her nose.
&n
bsp; The man made a disgusted grunt. “All right. Time to move.”
Ryker walked down the long pier. The high arc-necked lights that lined the pier brightened a twelve-foot circle before darkness shadowed him. The next light cast its glow, and he walked through it. He’d walked forward, watched as they appeared at the end of the pier. How long had they been waiting? His people had reported no movement.
He continued walking. "Stop there.” The same voice was on the phone. “Turn around.”
Ryker elevated his one arm and slowly circled. “I want to see her.” He stopped, facing the man.
“This is not my doing. She is not worth a war. I want to earn a living, make my bosses happy, and move up.”
“I want to see her.” The clothes were Brie’s, but he wouldn’t put it past these bastards to put another woman under that pillowcase.
The man jerked the material off and he saw red. Blood caked on her face, and her mouth was stretched obscenely by a ball gag. She sagged, and he heard her muffled cry.
“This is what we are going to do. I’m going to walk down these steps. There is a gun on her. My shooter will not fail. You move a muscle, she dies.”
“You have a gun on her?” He repeated the words to make sure his people heard them.
“We’re on it. Give us some time, Terrell.”
Ryker spread his legs shoulder-width apart, his firing stance. “I’m not moving, but I don’t get your motivation. What are you gaining by bringing her to me?” He kept his hand in the air, away from his weapon.
“Motivation? There is no motivation other than doing what was going to eventually happen. I saw an opportunity to discredit them with those above, and I took it. I allow her to die and the commissioner of the police force declares war because he’s lost a daughter. The mourning lover goes rogue and my distribution is disrupted, or worse, halted. The men who supply the drugs become disgruntled and think maybe my little coup was against the better good. They kill me and then all my groveling under those two was for nothing.”
“Eyes on shooter.” The words came through his earpiece. “I have a clear shot.” The sharpshooter acknowledged his ability to hit the target if required.
“Your play, Ryker.” He heard the Commissioner’s voice. A shrill ring of a cell phone split the silence.
Without a word, the man stepped backward off the dock, and both he and Brie disappeared from view.
Ryker pulled his weapon and ran to the edge of the dock. A bullet hit the edge as he peeked out. He ducked back and leaned forward, lower. He leveled his gun and shot the man who stood next to Brie on the deck of the speedboat.
The man twisted, losing his footing. He knocked Brie into the water but stayed in the boat as the driver slammed the throttle forward, launching the boat into the harbor.
There was no thought as he plunged into the water off the pier. With his near useless arm pinned to his side, he swam using a one-armed stroke to the place where he’d last seen Brie floundering. Filling his lungs with air, he dove. He could see her hair floating in the water. He grabbed at it, snatching a handful of her beautiful brown hair before he righted and kicked to the surface.
He arched his back and forced her to the surface across his chest. Kicking with his legs, he pushed her up past the surface of the water. Punching the water with his legs, he attempted to pierce the surface and fill his lungs, but he couldn’t. Fire-laced steel bands crushed his chest as he fought the urge to exhale.
A flurry of movement beside him removed Brie’s weight, giving him the buoyancy to surface. Gasping for air, someone grabbed him from behind. “Stop fighting, damn it, Cap! Brock’s got Brie, let me help you to the fucking dock.”
“I can swim.” He coughed, filled his lungs with air, and rolled from Brody’s hold and struck out with his one-armed sidestroke. Brody swam beside him and helped him up onto the water-level landing at the pier. Brock’s back as he bent over Brie prevented Ryker from seeing her. He crawled forward on his knees. The ball gag was gone, leaving horrendous impressions on her face, but her eyes were open, and she reached to him.
He grabbed her hand, dropped to his ass beside her, and pulled her to him with his good arm. Their tears merged with the saltwater from the harbor.
“I’m okay. I’m okay.” Her whispered affirmations seemed to be more for herself than for him, but he agreed with each statement and held her as tight as he could. When her words stilled, he rocked with her in his arms, kissing her forehead, unable to release her from the crushing hold, afraid that if he did, she’d disappear. Stupid and juvenile, but damn it, he’d almost lost her in that water. The fear of trying to keep her floating and the certainty that he was going to black out from a lack of oxygen had twisted his guts into a churning mess. Fuck, he was trembling, and damn it, tears still ran down his cheeks.
He whispered how much he loved her, trying to express with words the relief he was feeling having her in his arms. She burrowed closer, just like she did in bed as if she could meld their two bodies into one.
He closed his eyes and drew a steadying breath until he heard the thunderous sound of someone running down the wooden pier. Her father flew down the stairs and was beside them on the wood planking seconds later.
Ryker was unprepared for the massive bear hug that encompassed not only Brie but him as well. Brie's father said a prayer of thanks that rushed from his lips. He released Brie and her father gathered her in his arms, although Ryker never let go of her hand that she’d given him. He couldn’t lose the connection to her. Not yet.
“I could have killed you for diving off that damn pier.” He turned at Brody’s hoarse whisper, pulling his gaze away from Brie and her father.
“She would have died if he hadn’t.” Brock coughed and moved, the pool of water under him squelching around his jeans as he moved to lean back against the pier.
“How bad did you fuck up your shoulder?” Brody nodded his direction.
He moved it and winced as a bolt of pain traveled from his neck to his fingertips. “Not too bad.” Which was a fucking whale of a lie. He’d righteously screwed it up.
“Right,” Brody snorted.
“You boys get going. I’ve got Brie, and an ambulance is en route. Brock, the SWAT team is coordinating a search for that damn boat, get up there and flag down the ambulance crew, would you?”
Brock nodded and headed up the stairs. Brie squeezed Ryker’s hand. Her terrified gaze went straight to him. “Where are you going?”
Ryker’s eyes went to Brie’s immediately. “Brody, tell Terrence he has operational control.” He turned and brought her hand to his lips. “Nowhere, babe. I’m staying right here.”
Brody stood and answered Brie’s question, “There’s a raid, three buildings that Peña and Rubio used for business.”
Brie coughed but held up the hand Ryker wasn’t holding, stilling her brother’s movements. She finally drew in enough air to ask, “Is one of them a warehouse with a living area above?”
Ryker exchanged looks with Brody before he answered, “Yes.”
“That’s probably where he’s going. It’s where he killed those two men. The ones that took me from behind the restaurant.”
Ryker glanced at Brody and then met Chauncey's eyes as he asked, “The man that held you at the end of the pier killed them?”
Brie nodded. “I’m pretty sure he did. There were at least ten shots fired, maybe more.” She squeezed Ryker’s hand. “Go, do your job. I’ll be all right. Dad’s here and I can’t stand the thought of that man being out there.” She pushed her wet hair away from her neck. “He’s articulate and cunning, but there was no remorse in him. He didn’t want a war with the police and was willing to try to stop it, but everything in me told me that man would kill me if I didn’t do exactly as he said. He would have no problem with killing me or you or anyone else. None.”
Brody extended a hand to Ryker, but he ignored it. He cradled Brie’s hand and kissed her palm. “Are you sure?”
She closed her eyes and
nodded before she answered, “Call me as soon as you can.”
It took everything he had not to let his voice crack. “I will. I love you.”
“I know. I love you, too. Go do your job then come home to me.” Brody once again offered him a hand up and he took the help, lifting off the wooden pier. He nodded to the Commissioner, who nodded back. Ryker followed Brody up the stairs. It was time to take these bastards down for good.
Chapter 18
“You should let them take you to the emergency room,” her father’s growl of disapproval floated her way once again.
Brie rolled her shoulders. “I didn’t drown. Yeah, I swallowed some of that crappy tasting water, but unless I get sick from that, I’m fine.” She’d spent the last three hours giving her statement at the end of the pier. Her clothes stank and so did she.
“You whacked your head against the blacktop,” her father retorted.
“I did. The paramedic said my eyes were fine––equal and reactive. I have a headache, but I’m sure that’s stress-related. I just want to go home, shower, and wait for Ryker.”
“Your mom is going to love fussing over you.”
Brie snapped her head in her dad’s direction. “Ah, no. Not that home. I want to go to my home and wait for Ryker.”
“You mean Blay’s apartment?” Her father’s brow creased in confusion.
“Yeah.” She needed to talk to Blay to see if he’d be willing to sell his apartment to them. She shrugged off that thought. She should probably wait to talk to Ryker before making major decisions like buying apartments.
“You’ll be alone there. You could have a concussion.” Her father crossed his arms over his chest.
“How about I call someone to come stay with me until Ryker clears up this... case? Is it a case?” She tipped her chin and looked at her dad. The grey at his sideburns was more pronounced. Bekki and Blay’s fault, not hers.
Ryker (Hope City Book 5) Page 17
