Shadow of Doubt (An SBG Novel Book 2)

by P. A. DePaul

  “You knew how I felt and you chose Casper. I think that pretty much says everything that’s important.”

  “You never let on. I never knew,” she whispered, not really seeing the people in her sights.

  “And then you did.”

  “You’re part of my family, T. We’ll always have that connection, but I’m not the right woman for you. You’ll find someone so much better—”

  His harsh laugh in her earpiece cut her off. “Seriously? You’re going to pull out that tired speech? Give me a fucking break. Tell your boyfriend you did your best. You get a ‘complete’ beside the ‘talk to Talon’ task. Now move on. I certainly will. I’m going silent. Just keep me updated with your visuals.”

  Wraith rested her head against her hand. That went well. Not.

  Did you really expect anything less? No. She refocused on the front of the building. “You on the ICU floor yet?”

  Two clicks in her earpiece.

  Meaning yes. Asshole really was going silent.

  “Are there enough people for Cappy and Michelle to blend in?”

  Two clicks.

  “I’ll let Cappy know. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary here.”

  Three clicks.

  “Great. Glad you understand,” she muttered, searching for “Waldo.” The video feed from the nightclub hadn’t exactly been the best quality, so she only had generalities to go on.

  Chapter 51

  Cappy stepped out of the elevator on the fourth floor with Michelle and readjusted the hat on his head. “I’m going to get you back for this, Grady.”

  Grady laughed in his ear. “Hey. It was the only thing I could find in the drugstore. You gave me all of five minutes to shop. What did you expect? It was either that or a straw hat on clearance. I figured you going in like the Scarecrow may be a bit much to blend in.”

  Some wiseass whistled “If I Only Had a Brain” over the channel.

  If he didn’t need the offensive thing to cover his earpiece, he’d toss it in the trash where it belonged.

  “Whatsa matter, Military Man?” Wraith asked. “Figured it’d be right up your alley.”

  Grady’s laughter almost drowned out her words. “Aww. Come on, Army,” Grady wheezed between breaths. “You know when you grow up you want to be a Marine.”

  Cappy growled. That was the problem. While the floppy hat, reminiscent of a fisherman’s cap, wasn’t truly accurate to any of the armed services, it bore too strong a likeness to the Marine’s camouflage.

  “The drugstore’s obviously not educated on who’s the more intelligent branch. Uncle Sam’s Misguided Children are definitely not it. Just remember, Jarhead, payback’s a bitch,” he threatened, causing another round of guffawing from the peanut gallery. Usually he wasn’t in the strike zone, so it never mattered about the comms’ visibility. His normal position was high enough to help direct the action. Not today. No way in hell was he going to allow anyone but himself to protect Michelle. This asinine stunt had about a ninety percent fuck-up rate. He wanted to be in the heart of it, making decisions on the spot to get her out.

  Michelle steadily limped beside him. From a purely analytical stance, her injury was a gift. The limp changed her gait, which helped feed into her disguise. One of the hardest lessons new operators learned was that a person’s walk was as unique as a fingerprint.

  “Heads up, people,” Cappy announced, gripping her bicep to halt her steps. “I’m turning Michelle’s comms on. Her mic will stay live.”

  She peered up at him with wide, fear-filled eyes. He couldn’t resist kissing her forehead. “Ready?” he asked, and a chorus of “Checks” filled his earpiece, the others not realizing he meant the question for her.

  She nodded and he powered it on. He didn’t trust she’d remember to turn on the channel if she got in trouble. He slid his hand into her cold clammy one and spotted Talon meandering down the hallway toward them. Damn. The guy’s face beneath his hat was too memorable. If he had more members to work with, he’d have used Talon as a lookout. Isis was the only other person he could call on and she was entangled with feeding them the data as it arrived at Command Central.

  Behind Talon, the oversized ICU area showed a nurse’s station perched in the middle with an open expanse of windows filling the whole back wall. He spied a few chairs peeking out from the edges of the station, telling him the waiting area was underneath the windows.

  Talon casually held a cell phone to his mouth as a prop, but his voice rang through Cappy’s earpiece. “Raymond and Sonya are in position in Jim Fields’ room.”

  Michelle jumped and scratched her ear.

  Yeah, the first time wearing one was very uncomfortable and it took a while to get used to.

  Cappy slowed their steps so as to not outpace his operative.

  “Dad’s stationed in the corner room to your left,” Talon continued his report. “Curtains closed, so you’ll have to do a sweep by, but don’t stop. Two Marshals are mixed within the people in the waiting area.”

  Shit.

  “Sorry, Michelle.” Cappy squeezed her hand. “You’ll have to be satisfied with just seeing him.”

  Her big bronze eyes turned up to him and the fear morphed into regret and pain.

  It broke his heart. “I know you wanted to talk to him, but I can’t risk it.”

  “It’s okay,” she whispered, but her body language said quite the opposite.

  “Talon, recon. Focus on the stairwells.”

  “Check.”

  His operative passed them, barely sparing them a glance. Cappy caught the bastard’s eyes straying up to the hat and smirking. Asshole.

  “Sandra, we’re at the ICU ward. Move as you see fit to cover us.”

  “Check.”

  “Grady, Ted, you parked out of the hot zone? If this thing turns sideways, we may be coming in hot. I can’t have you trapped in the immediate area.”

  “Yeah, we’re on Illinois Street, between Market and Washington. It’s a heavy shopping area. You can’t miss us. We’re parked under a red barbecue grill sticking out of the side of a restaurant. FYI, I stashed the three backpacks, as instructed. They’re at landmarks located in the north, east, and south of the hospital.”

  “Check. You guys ready with the hospital’s schematics?”

  “Still working on it.”

  Cappy tried not to scowl as they stepped into the main area. “Work faster,” he hissed.

  Michelle started moving to the left but he squeezed her hand and pulled her toward him until he could tuck her under his left arm. “Hold on a sec,” he murmured. “First rule of blending in is to act as naturally as possible. When you enter a space like this for the first time, you wouldn’t charge ahead. You’d take a second to look, then move.”

  Cappy causally scanned the area and took in the bustling nurse’s station with its organized chaos, family members filling the seats beyond as well as pacing with their cell phones.

  Their hallway actually split the ICU with rooms to the left and right beside them. Along the whole left wall was a line of rooms with glass walls so the nurses could keep an eye on the patients. Most had their curtains open, but a few were closed right up to their open doorways. No rooms occupied the right wall. Instead, men’s and women’s bathrooms, a supply closet, and a room marked PRIVATE took up the space.

  Romeo stepped out of the corner room nearest them on the left and made a show of dialing his phone.

  Cappy whispered, “We’re going to slowly walk toward Raymond. Be as casual and respectful as you can but peer into each room as if searching for the right one. Don’t slow down when you reach your father’s. Once we pass, we’ll head toward the bathrooms. You can pretend to be upset but don’t overdo it.”

  “I don’t have to pretend,” she snipped.

  He kissed her temple. “I know. You’re doing great.�
��

  Just as he described, they strolled along his designated path. When they reached Romeo, the operative acted like he was absorbed in his fake phone call and walked right into the aisle, forcing them to stop or collide into him.

  Bless the man.

  Michelle didn’t even notice, her focus solely on the older gentleman hooked up to a scary amount of tubes and equipment. Magician sat in a chair just inside the doorway but positioned to see the waiting room.

  “Oh,” Romeo exclaimed as if startled, “excuse me.” He cleared out of the way and resumed his “call.”

  Cappy dipped his chin and gently pushed Michelle forward. In the next room, another man laid in the bed. Not as many tubes radiated from his body, and he was sound asleep. Blessedly his curtain was open and no one occupied the visitors’ chairs. Cappy paused them in front of the door as if they were there to see this guy.

  Michelle’s hand covered her mouth and she trembled all over. “Oh my God,” she whimpered. “My dad looks dead.” A sob wracked her body. “Who would do that to him?”

  Cappy flicked his gaze into Dad’s room again and noticed a plump, middle-aged-but-younger-than-dad woman holding his hand. Mom? If so, it would explain Michelle’s lack of concern about their age difference.

  “I don’t know,” he whispered, not sure if her question was rhetorical or not.

  Her shoulders shuddered and the raw anger curling in his gut spread to his limbs. Son of a bitch. He pressed her even closer. She should never have to see her father in that condition.

  If he ever got his hands on the bastard who did this, he’d make sure life-saving tubes and the need for the ICU ward didn’t exist.

  Urging her on, they walked in front of the windows. A few people glanced their way but none of the looks lingered. The Marshals were good; he’d give them that. If Cappy wasn’t trained at spotting what didn’t want to be seen, he’d have missed them.

  For effect he soothed just loud enough to be overheard, “We should let him sleep. We can stick around for a bit to see if he wakes up.” Please, dear God, don’t wake up, he prayed to the man and God.

  She nodded and he could’ve kissed her for taking his lead.

  He continued toward an empty spot against the wall on the right side. The room with the door marked PRIVATE sat opposite her father’s room, giving them a good vantage point to keep tabs on who entered and exited his room.

  Michelle slumped against the wall and he crowded in front of her, bracing his weight beside her head with his arm but not so much that he trapped her. He couldn’t afford to spark an episode.

  Magician had done a fantastic job with Michelle’s disguise. She had managed to buy prosthetics really close to the same skin tone, and the honey-blonde wig worked with Michelle’s overall coloring. The shoulder-length waves helped hide the earpiece and wires. They didn’t need her to change her clothes since she was already covered enough to hide the throat strap.

  It was Michelle, yet not at all. Fuller cheeks, a more pointed chin, and a stronger eyebrow line completely changed her facial structure.

  Since no one knew or cared about him, he didn’t need to don any of the latex pieces Magician always carried for all the team members. Instead, he only needed to wear the black turtleneck and ridiculous hat.

  Cappy leaned forward to stupidly place another kiss on her forehead just as a rush of wind zipped by him.

  A black spot formed in the drywall inches from his head. “Shit!”

  Chapter 52

  Cappy grabbed Michelle’s arm and yanked her forward.

  “Jeremy! What—”

  “Wraith, sniper in range,” Cappy barked into his throat mic. “He just tried to kill me. Take him out.”

  Michelle stumbled, her eyes wide and face draining of color. Her wig fell off, but he couldn’t stop to retrieve part of her disguise. They were compromised anyway.

  “Leave it,” he commanded, tightening his hold. “We gotta get away from the windows.”

  Romeo and Magician raced out of Jim Fields’s ICU bay and drew their guns. Shrieks and clatter from items dropping out of nurses’ hands filled the air.

  Romeo whispered, “We gotta make this look good for the replay later. Keep running.”

  At the same time, Magician yelled in a full voice, “Stop. FBI.”

  As if someone hit the Panic button, everyone in the area stampeded in every possible direction, clogging their path.

  “I don’t have a shot,” Wraith called in Cappy’s ear as he pulled Michelle around a huddled mother clutching her crying son. “Sniper already left position. I’m sorry, Cappy. I had a bead on him after he moved but not enough time to take it. There were just too many windows and crevices to spot him first.”

  “I knew it was a long shot,” Cappy responded, running down a long corridor filled with a cacophony of commotion. “Ted, I need those schematics. Talon, where are you?”

  “I’m headed up South A stairwell toward you,” Talon answered. “All clear here.”

  “Check. We’re on our way.”

  “Marshals, I need you to guard the room,” Magician demanded. “We’re leaving for pursuit.”

  “Cappy.” Wraith cut in. “You’re looking for a man in a lightweight black nylon jacket, tan cargo pants, and a backpack. Couldn’t see anything more than that.”

  “Watch the streets. Try and track him in the open.”

  “Check.”

  How in the hell had the sniper recognized Michelle? The image of the black hole filled his mind. Inches from his head. Animosity shot down his spine. Had to be the same bastard who left the pictures beside April’s body and in Michelle’s apartment. The guy hadn’t gone for Michelle. The asshole had targeted him.

  Fucking hat wasn’t much of a disguise. He flipped the cap off and shoved it in a janitor’s trashcan as they raced by.

  Two men in dark-gray security uniforms charged down the other end of the corridor. “I’ve got them. South wing,” one shouted into his walkie-talkie while both brandished their guns.

  Michelle jerked and pulled against his grip.

  “Keep going,” he ordered softly, praying her PTSD wouldn’t be triggered by all the intensity. “There’s an opening to the right.”

  Footsteps pounded behind him and he risked a peek over his shoulder. A pair of teenagers and a Hispanic guy ran behind them, and just behind them were Romeo and Magician. His operatives postured with the best of them, looking for all the world in pursuit of the woman wanted for questioning. A small swell of pride warmed his chest. Damn, they were good.

  He didn’t allow Michelle to slow their pace as he turned the corner into the opening he had spotted.

  “FBI,” Romeo shouted while Magician followed up with, “Guards, stand down. Holster your weapons.”

  “We have lead in this pursuit,” Romeo tagged on. “We’re boxing them in. We could use your help keeping the staff and visitors on this floor.”

  Cappy prayed Romeo’s words were only more bluster instead of actual plans. He had enough on his plate without adding additional people preventing him from getting Michelle to safety.

  “Talon, we had to change course,” Cappy directed. “Now headed for South B. Ted, talk to me about exfiltration.”

  “Check,” Talon said, then Ted cut him off.

  “Cappy? Can you hear me? I broke my comm. I’m so sorry. It was the stupidest thing, I—”

  “He doesn’t care,” Grady rumbled. “Cappy, he’s sharing mine. Ted, tell him.”

  “Ted, South B. Where does it lead?” Cappy barked, spotting the EXIT sign above a white steel door.

  “South parking garage, if you can run down two flights and cross over the skywalk.”

  Score. He slammed the door open and pushed Michelle in front of him. She fiddled with her earpiece, showing her obvious discomfort at wearing the device, but he had refused to
entertain her coming here without it. If something happened to her, he wanted her to have a way to communicate. She scampered down the steps and he chomped at her heels, wishing she could move faster. No, asshole, be proud of how well she’s handled everything so far. She doesn’t live in this world like you do daily.

  Properly chastised, he vaguely noted the door now above them opening again, then closing almost immediately. One person, he instantly calculated.

  Enemy or not?

  “Keep going. One more,” he said, noticing her slowing at the landing near an exit door.

  She nodded but her pace didn’t exactly inspire world records. The poor woman wasn’t used to running for her life . . . literally. Adrenaline probably helped her at first but she had burned that off.

  Finally, the door marked SKYWALK THIS FLOOR loomed into view. She flung it open, paused, then headed left. He, too, saw the big arrow on the opposite wall directing them to the crosswalk.

  “Everyone, report,” he commanded, studying the road outside through the long stretch of windows lining the hallway.

  “I’m entering the lower parking garage,” Talon said. “Headed for the open stairwell to meet you.”

  “Sorry, Cap,” Magician said. “Agent Stiles and I got caught up in a pissing match with those guards. We’re heading for the South B stairwell now.”

  “Thought I caught sight of the shooter.” Wraith checked in. “But it happened too quickly. I’m on the hunt for him now.”

  “Uh, do I say I’m sitting in the truck with Grady?” Ted asked with confused enthusiasm lacing his voice.

  “Thank you, Ted.” They finally made it to the long crosswalk. Once they entered, there’d be no changing paths if they got trapped. Cappy grabbed Michelle’s arm and made her stop. She peered at him with wide, terror-filled eyes. Sweat poured down her face, smearing the makeup Magician had hastily applied and revealing the prosthetics altering her face.

  Intoxicating and beautiful. Those two words flashed in his head. She had such inner strength and perseverance. No crying or hysterics or arguing with his every command either. His heart lurched, then pumped as if saying, You are lifetime partners. You love her.