by DJ Erfert
“We’ll get our people on that,” Stevens said.
“If not by air …” Lucy held up her hand. “He’d need to get them into the stadium before the event, and then leave them in places that they wouldn’t be accidentally found.” She glanced around at each face. “Right?”
“Makes sense,” Johnson said.
“And if he stays with the same type of satellite detonators like we found on Tuesday, then he could be in the parking lot and set them off whenever he wanted,” Mark said to the group. “Hell, he could be in another city, or another country, and still set them off.”
“Who is at a building a day or two before any big event making sure it’s ready?” Lucy asked.
Cooper could see by the look on his daughter’s face that she already had an answer. But her best friend took her question seriously.
“A cleaning crew!” Junie said enthusiastically with a smile. “And groundskeepers, too.”
“We should get surveillance set up at the University of Phoenix Stadium,” Lucy told them. “We’ve only got three days to stop Hussain Nagi from setting off the first terrorist dirty bombs on American soil. Mark, do you have a couple of those radiation detectors you can spare?”
He lowered his phone away from his mouth and said, “We have just enough RIIDs for our surveillance on the roads out of the cities, and we’re taking them away from the border crossings to do that. Sorry. We do have the pocket sized Geiger counters, but you need to be in close proximity for them to pick up on the radiation.”
“We’ll take them,” Lucy said quickly.
“Then we better get to it.” Johnson said to Mark, “I’ll take custody of your witnesses.”
“You better make sure they stay safe, Agent Johnson,” Lucy told him, her voice steely hard. “I’ll be looking for them after this is all done.”
Cooper watched his daughter, unsure if she had just threatened a federal agent.
“I’ll personally make sure of that, Agent James,” Johnson said. “You have my word on it.”
Lucy nodded with a frown on her lips, before turning on her heel and heading toward the triage area. Johnny gave Kate a nod and then they both followed her. Cooper guessed that Lucy might worry after the little family. Saving someone’s life could give her a higher sense of responsibility over their well-being. That troubled Cooper. If she did actually look at her rescues that way, by now she could be feeling a very heavy burden on her shoulders—an emotion that could have a damaging effect on her mind, pulling her down into a bottomless pit of darkness in which she might not be able to climb out.
He’d seen it happen before.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The stadium coordinators had been justifiably angry and frightened when Bridget contacted them about their complex possibly being targeted by terrorists for Sunday’s football game. Considering how much effort the league had gone through for security, if they lost their complex due to terrorist action, the cost would be devastating, and that didn’t even factor in any loss of life. When she told them she wanted to set up surveillance by replacing their cleaning crews and groundskeepers with agents from the FBI, they were very accommodating.
The agents even supplied the equipment they stuffed into the bed of the trucks. Their clothes for the mission weren’t the standard all black attire. They wore blue jeans, logoed t-shirts that read Steele Landscaping—since her dad had a supply on hand from another job— and Cardinals baseball caps given to them by the stadium. Underneath their plainclothes were the standard bulletproof vests, of course. There was no sense in being careless.
Lucy had her legs draped over Johnny’s knees while she leaned her head against the headrest. Sitting in the backseat of their undercover crew-cab pickup kept her out of sight, for the most part. The windows were appropriately darkened for the Arizona sun not to heat up the interior, and it also made it difficult, if not impossible, for passersby to see anybody watching from inside. Hussain Nagi might recognize her, and Lucy knew she would know him on sight. She kept binoculars on her lap.
Over the past two days, she’d had to use it a handful of times when a car or van pulled into the north parking lot where they had set up their surveillance, and each time Lucy’s heart raced in anticipation of thwarting the plans of one of the most dangerous men she knew.
Four other trucks nearly identical to hers were parked strategically around the complex. Each undercover agent also had small walkie-talkies for communications, besides their phones. They had regular check-ins, just to make sure their devices were working and to break up the boredom. A person could only trim a tree and sweep the asphalt parking lot so much, and the few stadium windows and glass doors were sparkling clean.
Jim Brockway recalled Kate and Junie back to LA, since the CIA wasn’t technically involved in the mission. Lucy was the exception, and she wasn’t really doing anything besides identifying the suspect, and she didn’t necessarily need to do that since Bridget sent a photograph of Hussain Nagi’s face to every agent’s phone and agency involved in the search. But Jim let her stay—just in case. And since Bridget had been released from the hospital, Sunny had to fly back to LA, too, and Dusty went with her.
Mark checked in that morning to tell Lucy about the fourteen dead bodies his border agents found four miles from where he’d found her. The nine men, four women, and a young boy were shot to death, confirming their suspicions about another crossing. He also let Lucy know that Border Patrol RIIDs hadn’t hit on any suspicious radioactive vehicles, and they had every road leading out effectively blocked. While on one level, that news about not finding a radioactive truck was comforting to hear, it also troubled Lucy to think that Nagi might’ve slipped away with the packages after he’d tried to kill her on Wednesday. He could be anywhere, going after another target.
Bridget’s office had their informants out in force, listening for any chatter that might be relevant to Nagi’s plans. So far, they didn’t have anything.
Lucy’s dad’s name appeared on her phone when it vibrated. He’d flown to Sky Harbor Thursday and met up with Bridget to conference with TSA and began the extra security there. Dad had Patrick on one of the details there, too. Yesterday, Bridget insisted on helping with the surveillance at the stadium, and Lucy insisted that her dad stay at the airport and continue being undercover there. While Bridget didn’t understand why she’d request that, her dad knew his gift would better serve the thousands of people flying in and out of Sky Harbor.
“Is that Coop?” Johnny asked, leaning closer to her phone.
“Uh-huh.” Lucy dropped her feet to the floor and sat upright. “He says that Chavez checked in, clearing another small airport off the list. He had it on conference text with Bridget, too.” She gazed up at her fiancé. “That makes nine out of ten that Nagi hasn’t approached for a plane.”
“One more to go,” Johnny said. “What about the car rentals?”
Lucy scrolled up a few texts. “There are over a dozen car rental places in Phoenix, and a dozen in Mesa, and the same in Chandler, Tempe, Gilbert, Glendale, Scottsdale, Peoria … well, you see how many they have to go through. Each city police department is on it, and they’re keeping the FBI up on what they find—or don’t find.” She sighed. “I just wished we’d had more than just three days …”
Johnny slipped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer. “I know. And I hate to bring this up, but my days off end tonight. Tomorrow I need to show up for work, or I might not get to keep my job. And since I’m working toward taking off as much time as possible for our honeymoon …” he said before giving her a quick kiss on her lips, “I need to keep the chief happy and not call in another personal day.”
Trying diligently to keep from pouting, Lucy cuddled in next to his chest and rested her head on his neck. “When do you need to leave?”
Johnny picked up her long braid lying in front of her shoulder and slowly let it slip along his hand. “At the latest? By 2 AM. That would give me enough time to drive home and cha
nge clothes.”
The dashboard clock read 6:17 PM. The sun was nearing the horizon, and Lucy knew he hadn’t even caught a nap today. How could she let him drive home along the most boring stretch of freeway in the middle of the night—alone? He’d fall asleep and crash, and she’d never even know about it.
“Maybe you should go home now,” Lucy said very quietly. “That way you could still get some sleep before your shift.”
Johnny groaned, holding her tighter. “This is the toughest part about my job—leaving you.”
“I’m not alone.” Lucy motioned out the driver’s side window with her phone. “Bridget is by the glass doors pretending to wash them—again, and watching us in the reflection.” She pointed at the small grove of trees next to where they were parked. “Stevens is trying not to kill the tree he’s trimming. And there are eight other agents within radio distance that can be here in a few seconds if I need them.”
“I guess you could be right. It doesn’t seem to be panning out here anyway. You’ll probably be safer here than I will be on the drive home,” Johnny said, chuckling.
A large, white, boxy truck turning the corner distracted Lucy’s attention away from his not-so-funny joke. The utility van had a huge taco painted out the side. “Look.” She nudged Johnny in the ribs with her elbow and lifted the binoculars to her eyes. “A catering truck. El Muchaco Taco. It’s got a menu board. Tacos, burritos, torta, nachos—” Lucy took in a fast breath when the truck turned into the stadium’s parking lot and headed toward them. She scooted lower in the seat—Johnny did, too—as the truck drove by them.
“Did you see the driver’s face?” he asked.
“No,” Lucy snapped. “The sun hit the windshield.” She turned around and watched the catering truck come to a stop near the curb. “Does the stadium let vendors sell in the parking lot?”
“I don’t know. I’ve only ever watched football on TV.”
“Cripes.” She dialed her phone. Her dad answered on the first ring.
“Yes, Lulu?”
“A taco vendor’s truck pulled into the parking lot. Does that sound right to you?”
“Hell, no. How close are they to you?”
“About fifty feet in back of us, next to the sidewalk leading up to the flight deck check-in tables. But we don’t know for sure if they’re our target.”
“All the vendors in and around that stadium know they aren’t allowed anywhere near a professional football stadium. Hang tight, I’m on my way!”
Lucy took out the small Geiger counter from her backpack and checked the battery.
“What’re you doing?” Johnny asked.
She pulled on a ball cap and snugged it down over her forehead. “I’m going to check to see if that truck is radioactive. Then we’ll know for sure.”
Johnny snatched the Geiger counter off her lap. “No! If Nagi is in there, then he’ll recognize you, and this whole mission is blown.” He took the cap off her head and put it on.
“No, Johnny. You’re not wearing body armor—”
He cut her off. “I won’t need it. You’ll have a window before anything really happens to me.” Johnny didn’t give her any time to counter his logic before he got out. He took out a pair of hedge clippers from the truck’s bed, went to the nearest tree, and clipped a leaf or two before moving down the line. As he got closer to the van, Bridget worked her way back over to the pickup.
“What’s your fiancé doing?” she asked, climbing behind the steering wheel.
Lucy shushed her. “He’s got the Geiger counter.”
“Be advised—we’ve got a possible target in the north parking lot—a white catering truck. All units stand by.”
Lucy only spared the FBI agent a glance as she radioed the rest of her agents. While she may have told them to wait, Lucy was sure they were getting into their trucks and heading their way to get a look at their target, just as sure as she knew her dad was in his helicopter and speeding his way toward her. The atmosphere became electrified as her heart accelerated, and as Johnny crept closer to the truck he took out the little box. It was on already, she knew. He started to hold it out toward the truck.
“Don’t do that!” Lucy whispered, like he could hear her.
He dropped it back down to his leg and quickly moved behind the truck—
Lucy gasped as a phantom wind blew across her face, stealing her breath and taking away the dying daylight, turning everything around her to those deadly flat blacks and slippery whites, everywhere except a colorful window surrounding Johnny.
It’s happening!
Lucy knew she’d have to watch him die before she could even try to save him.
Johnny lifted the little box and fiddled with a dial.
Then Lucy’s perspective changed. She could see into the driver’s side window. The man she recognized as Nagi was leaning over the shoulder of the man behind the steering wheel. She knew his face, too. It didn’t take a moment to remember him. He even wore the same gray three-piece suit from the last time she saw him fighting with Johnny in her hotel’s lobby.
In the next instant, the driver rushed out the door holding a big knife down by his leg. He jumped Johnny just as he turned around, giving Lucy a thumbs-up sign. The man-in-gray plunged the knife deep into his chest. The truck’s back door opened, and they dragged Johnny’s body inside.
Things changed.
Time rewound.
It was like it had never happened.
“Johnny!” Lucy fumbled for the radio—then she remembered he didn’t have one. She yanked the door open and jumped out. “Johnny! Get back!”
He didn’t question her command and ran straight toward her and for the cover of their pickup. The vendor truck’s tires squealed as it took off. Lucy couldn’t let it get away—not after she knew they had the bombs contained. She ran after it as she reached under her shirt and took out her .380 auto from the small of her back. With an expert shot, she blew out the two tires in her sights. The driver lost control and jumped a concrete parking curb, high-centering the heavy truck. It came to a scraping, ear-piercing stop.
A moment later the doors opened and four men ran out—empty-handed of backpacks. But Lucy had a bigger problem. She felt the icy surge of her side effect coursing from her chest out through her limbs in ever-stronger waves. She’d changed the window. Johnny didn’t die. “Oh no … Not now …”
She made eye contact with a very angry looking Nagi running from the truck. The instant he saw her, he aimed his gun and fired. The bullets impacted her chest, tossing her backward onto the asphalt. The last things she heard before things went black were Johnny yelling her name, the deep roar of helicopter blades beating closer, and more gunfire.
~*~
“Lucy!” Cooper yelled, even knowing she couldn’t hear him. He shoved aside the chopper door and anchored his foot against the ledge as Captain Sawyer maneuvered to find a good landing zone. He aimed his Glock .40 cal at the man who’d shot his daughter and fired several times. He recognized the man’s face: Hussain Nagi, the terrorist they’d waited for days to get a lead on. Nagi skipped a step, and then kept running, but with a noticeable limp. He saw two other men from the truck fall—shot—and the fourth man ran with Nagi toward the double glass doors while they kept shooting toward the small grove of trees, and at him. A bullet pinged against the side of the helicopter just as the skids touched down.
Sullivan jumped down, holding his rifle out in front of him, and took several shots before Cooper could get out. Morrison and Gibbs followed Coop. His first instinct was to get to Lucy. When he reached her, her eyes fluttered open, staring up at him. He pressed his hand down on the holes in her shirt and felt the remnants of lead embedded in her vest.
“You okay, Lulu?”
“Sure …” she answered with a groan. “Go get Nagi…”
Johnny was looking at them from beside the pickup. He had his hand clutched to his chest as if in pain. “We’ll get him, baby. You stay still.”
Cooper a
nd Sullivan headed to the trees for cover, keeping their targets pinned down with a steady volley of bullets. The trees didn’t have very big trunks, but any cover in a firefight was good. Stevens kept firing even though his sleeve was covered in blood. Bridget knelt behind another tree with her radio up to her mouth calling for backup, he guessed. Squealing tires proved her calls were answered. Gunshots and breaking glass sounded simultaneously, and then Coop couldn’t see Nagi. They’d gotten inside the stadium.
Steele Reinforcement’s men didn’t advance alone. Six agents wearing the t-shirts Cooper handed out two days ago rushed up to the stadium with them. While leaning against the outside brickwork, near the point of entrance Nagi and his cohort went into, Cooper watched two other agents check on the two unmoving men sprawled out on the concrete breezeway. Bridget hurried over to them. After a brief moment, she headed to Cooper and wedged her small frame between him and Sullivan.
“Both of those men are dead,” Bridget said quietly. “How’s your daughter?”
“Two hits in the vest. She’ll be fine.” Coop looked over at the trees. “Stevens?”
“Took one in the arm. I wrapped it with a bandana. He’ll live.” She motioned toward the broken out glass door with a blood trail leading up to it with a lift of her chin. “I recognized Nagi. He’s wounded. I’ve called for reinforcements. We’ll have the place surrounded in less than thirty minutes.”
“We can’t wait.” Cooper looked at Gibbs. “You go in first. We’ll follow.” As soon as Mike Gibbs gave him a quick nod, Coop’s world went silent and sank into black and white. He watched as his team entered the lobby and the gunfight that ensued. Most importantly, he saw where the enemy was when the shots were fired.
He pulled himself out of the window.
“Stand down, Gibbs!” Cooper said before his man could even take a single step. His gun was low on bullets, so he pocketed the nearly empty magazine and slipped in another. “Follow me.”
