Capture the Night

by Cheryl Pierson

  “I don’t know. Don’t…know what happened to him.”

  “Who is Danny? Do you know that?”

  Pete wanted to smile, but couldn’t. “Nope. Prob’ly just some guy who lifted my brother’s cell phone.”

  The hard punch to his already-bruised cheek split the skin. His head felt as if it were coming off at the neck, even though he knew the blow hadn’t packed nearly the wallop that his earlier beating at the hands of Latham and Farley had.

  His ears buzzed as he tried to make sense of what McShane was saying.

  “Let’s try this again. You see, Peter, I’m wondering why you were so eager to join us. You had to know that we knew you were a police officer. I was all set to shoot you in your arrogant back as you walked away from your ‘pizza delivery’. But you graciously accepted the offer to come inside. Why?”

  Pete’s tongue felt swollen twice its size, but he managed to say, “To look for Johnny.”

  “So you knew he was here?”

  “He works here…security…” It was plausible, Pete thought; but the Irishman seemed to have an uncanny ability to ferret out lies from the truth.

  McShane regarded him for a long moment. “I think I believe you, Peter. I have no reason not to. You know the price for lying to me is the girl’s life. You wouldn’t risk that, would you?”

  “You know I wouldn’t.”

  McShane smiled and pushed away from the couch. He began to pace, his hands behind his back. “So you heard what was going on here, came down to join the fun, and in the process, hoped to find out what became of brother John. Am I correct?”

  “’S my precinct, McShane. I’d be here, anyway…whether Johnny was working or not,” he responded sharply.

  McShane’s lips quirked at Logan’s iciness. “Ah. You don’t appreciate my phrasing.”

  “You killed my partner out there.” Pete met McShane’s hard stare with one of his own. “I wouldn’t say we came down to ‘join the fun’. He leaves a wife and four kids.”

  McShane looked away first and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Peter. Really, I am. I know what it is to lose a person like that.” He looked pointedly at Eileen. “Someone you trust with your very life. Someone you think, maybe—maybe you’d die for, if it came to that.” He turned to face Pete again, his mouth hard. “Collateral damage, Officer. That’s what we call it in war. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Pete let his eyes drift shut. McShane was hard to figure. No one had been able to do it yet. There was no way he was going to get inside the terrorist’s mind in the shape he was in. He could barely put a coherent thought together in his own brain.

  “This Danny says there are two people with him, Peter,” McShane continued silkily. “A man and a woman. Any ideas as to who they might be? Where they might be?”

  A trick question. Pete smiled. “They’re wherever the hell Danny is, McShane. And I have no idea who they are. Could be anybody. Anybody you allowed to live in this blood bath.” Could be my brother. But he didn’t dare hope for that much. If Johnny was with this “Danny,” he must be hurt too badly to even realize his cell phone was gone.

  McShane dropped his cigarette onto the expensive carpet and crushed it out.

  “I assure you, Officer, when I find them, I will remedy that situation immediately. That’s three people somebody let get by them. I don’t tolerate sloppiness in my army.”

  McShane’s voice was very near again, beside Pete’s ear, but Pete hadn’t the strength to open his eyes.

  “Are you terribly close to your brother? I was never fond of mine.” McShane snickered. “He accidentally fell to his death when we were younger.”

  The secretive smug note in the Irishman’s voice raised Pete’s hackles in warning and disgust.

  “It’s an awful thing to watch your brother die, Peter. I hope, for your sake, John T. has already met his Maker when we find him. And we will find him, you know.”

  Chapter 24

  Empty. Just as he’d thought. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, lowering the .38 to the floor beside them.

  Daniel. But when? Alexa wouldn’t have let him have the gun. Had he forced her somehow? No. She would’ve told him about the missing bullets, if she’d known.

  “Lex?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Did—Did Daniel ever—take my gun?”

  “No…why? Oh, wait. He was looking at it when I found the bomb. When I came back, he was standing over you, just holding it. Scared the daylights out of me. I couldn’t see who he was—I thought…I thought he was one of the terrorists.”

  Johnny closed his eyes. That had to be it. It was the only time one of them hadn’t been awake, aware of where the gun was. He’d been out of it completely, and Alexa had gone to see about another way out. He wanted to cuss…wanted to turn the air blue…but he held it in, knowing that if Alexa realized how completely defenseless they were, it would take away all her hope. He couldn’t do that to her—not unless he was forced to.

  “I—I took it back from him. I knew you didn’t trust him with it. He gave it to me with no problem.”

  Well, why not? He’d done what he wanted to do. Guess he didn’t trust us so much, either. There wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it now. Sighing, he steered the conversation away from the gun.

  “So, what do you think your daughters will say about Mom’s great adventure?”

  “If we survive, you mean?”

  Johnny didn’t answer. The silence stretched between them, and finally he reached to stroke her hair. “I guess you must’ve given that all kinds of thought, Lex. Must’ve had all kinds of fears and wishes and ideas running around in your head…about leaving your girls. Never having kids, it didn’t cross my mind.” He gave a self-deprecatory chuckle. “Shows what kind of an idiot I am for bringing it up in the first place…”

  She shook her head, the tears in her eyes. “No, don’t say that. Maybe it would help if I told you a little bit about them.”

  “Good idea. I’ll want to meet them after we have that date. You know. The one to make sure we’re compatible…able to weather hostage situations, bombs in our hotel—”

  “It’ll be easier than that, Officer Logan. All I ask is a plate of good Mexican food and endless margaritas. I’m going to need them when this is over.”

  “You got it, Lex.” He smiled, thinking of his and Pete’s favorite restaurant, Los Pericos, and their waitress, Martha, with her matronly affection. “I know just where I’m going to take you. If I can stand all the ribbing I’m going to get.”

  Alexa looked up at him questioningly.

  “An old friend,” he explained. “Been trying to marry me off ever since Sharon and I divorced. They’ll be glad to see how much better I did the second time around.”

  Alexa giggled. “You don’t even know my ‘baggage’—or how cumbersome it could prove to be.”

  Johnny groaned teasingly. “I got time, lady. All the time in the world.” Or until they blow up the hotel. Or until they find us. “Go ahead. Tell it all.”

  “That might scare you. I’ll start with the good. My daughters—”

  The door behind them slowly began to open, spilling more of the dim light across them. Alexa lifted her head, squinting at the tall figure blocking the entry. “Daniel?”

  Johnny struggled to sit up.

  Daniel held out the cell phone reluctantly. “Here ya go, Johnny. It’s the head man downstairs. Says he wants to talk to you.”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  “Captain Carter!” Holcomb was practically shouting. But then, he had to, in order to be heard above the rest of the noise.

  Everyone quieted as Carter strode over. Holcomb had something, by the look of him.

  “Captain, it sounds like McShane.”

  “And?”

  “Daniel Williams, sir.” Holcomb narrowed his eyes, his brows drawing close in concentration, as if that could help him hear better.

  “Daniel Williams! What’s he doing—ah, shit! They’ve traced his calls—�
�

  Holcomb nodded reluctantly. “That’s right Cap. McShane called him. He’s asking to speak to Johnny Logan.”

  “Speaker!” Carter demanded.

  But Holcomb shook his head. “Can’t. Too faint. I’d never pick it up. It’s recording, though. We can maybe make some sense of it later,” he assured Carter.

  “Well? What about Johnny?” Carter was ready to pop his buttons.

  Holcomb’s face lit up. “He’s alive! Williams just told McShane to hold on…he’s going to put Johnny on the phone. That’s great news!”

  Carter nodded quickly, then turned sober again. “Great news, but for how long? McShane’ll kill him if he finds him.” He sighed. “And us sitting on our thumbs out here…just waiting for it to happen.”

  “My men are ready, Captain.” Carter pivoted at the sound of Don Richter’s voice. Don was the lieutenant for the Alpha SWAT team, and they went back more years than Carter cared to remember.

  “Hey, Don.” Carter nodded at his old friend.

  Don returned the grim greeting. “We’re ready to see some action, Cap. How ’bout it?” Don’s hazel eyes snapped with the brilliance of a man on the edge. He was ready to get to work. Behind him stood twelve officers dressed in their gear, eager to be put to the test.

  “Hang on a minute, willya? Let’s see what’s going on with Logan.”

  Holcomb’s face fell. He glanced up at Carter. “The connection’s there, but I can’t hear anything. They must all be inside the building now.”

  Carter nodded, trying to keep the disappointment from showing on his face. “Keep recording—just in case. And let me know if you get anything.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Carter jerked his head toward Evan Sanders, who stood by the young communications officer. “You know, the feds are in charge here now,” he said quietly.

  “I’m sorry, Captain. I didn’t hear you,” Richter responded, his eyes still on Carter.

  Carter smiled. “You have my sympathies on your hearing loss, Lieut.” He nodded toward the hotel. “Back door might be best,” he said dryly.

  “Anything else you can tell me?”

  “They’re armed to the teeth. SAMS took down a chopper last night.”

  Richter nodded. “Yeah, that was tough. I heard about Levi.”

  Carter looked away, then at the ground. After a moment he said, “This Daniel Williams is a homeless man who lives in the maintenance housing on the roof.”

  Richter raised a gray brow, and Carter nodded. “I know. Just another of the very strange things we’re privileged as police officers to see.” He gave a short laugh. “His brother’s here—a strange bird himself. And somehow, Daniel has come into possession of Johnny Logan’s cell phone.”

  Richter swore as he added it all up for himself. “Now those bastards have tracked down Daniel Williams—and that’s where Johnny’ll be.”

  “There’s a woman with them, too,” Carter supplied. Before Richter could ask, Carter shrugged. “Don’t know who she is or what shape she’s in…but Johnny’s hurt.”

  Richter rubbed a hand over his clean-shaven head. “How bad?”

  “Don’t know. Could be anything—but it’s got to be serious. Williams sounded pretty upset about it when he last called his brother.”

  “Got any clue as to where the survivors are?”

  Carter gave a derisive snort. He rubbed the back of his neck and motioned Richter to walk a little farther away from the others with him. They came to a stop and Carter pivoted around to face his old friend.

  “Don, we don’t even know if there are any survivors—except Williams and the two people he claims are there with him—Johnny and the woman.”

  Richter nodded. “Understood.”

  “No.” Carter sighed. “No, you don’t understand—” He broke off, afraid to voice the fear that was eating him alive. “I did something really stupid yesterday. I let Pete Logan volunteer to go in there.” He shook his head and looked at the ground. “He’d just lost his partner. His brother was missing—” Carter’s voice was unsteady.

  Richter put a hand on his arm briefly, then waited until he looked up. “I can’t think of anyone who’d have a better reason to go in, Ray.” Richter’s expression turned thoughtful. “Get many volunteers?”

  Carter shook his head. “No chance. Not with Pete setting up a howl to be the one. Guess they all just figured he had the right.”

  “He did, Ray. No matter what happens, you did the right thing. If you hadn’t let him go, he’d have found another way.” He flashed a brief smile. “We all know how stubborn the Logans can be. No one will fault you.”

  “He may be dead, too,” Carter responded dully.

  “As they all may be when we get inside.” Richter shrugged. “Hell, you and I may be dead before tomorrow, too. I can’t let that stop me from sending my guys on this mission. We all knew the risks when we decided to join the force.”

  Carter nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

  “Now, tell me something. Where would be the best place for us to look for Johnny and the other two survivors? Any ideas?”

  Carter raised his head and looked past Richter, up the length of stucco and glass to the roof. “Not a problem at all. I know exactly where you need to start looking.” He caught Richter’s eyes, holding his gaze as he said, “The only problem is, now, McShane and his men do, too.”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Johnny took his phone out of Daniel’s outstretched hand and put it to his ear.

  “McShane?”

  “Oh, aye, John T. Just callin’ for a friendly chat.”

  Johnny wondered how long it would take to trace the call. Did their equipment have that capability? “What do you want?”

  McShane was smiling when he spoke. “Testy, aren’t we?” Johnny didn’t reply, and McShane continued. “Bleedin’ an’ pain’ll do that to a man. Make him fair want to just—end it all.”

  Johnny’s lips twisted in a cynical grin. “I’m not there yet.”

  “How’re the others, then?”

  Johnny’s eyes swung to Daniel. Damn him. “What ‘others’?” He picked his words carefully…going very slowly now.

  “Danny. Danny-boy…and the woman. What was her name?”

  Johnny’s mouth tightened. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  McShane laughed outright. “Oh, I like you, John T. You…remind me of someone. Here. Say hello.”

  Johnny was tempted to hang up. For all he knew, McShane was tracking him right now—his men on the way up the elevators, stealing through the maintenance corridors like wraiths…

  “Johnny…”

  His blood froze. The raspy voice on the other end of the line was achingly, unbearably familiar.

  The memory flooded over him, with just the sound of his name on his brother’s lips. “Johnny…take me with you—”

  It had been summer. A day so hot that there was no hope of relief from its crushing oppressiveness, even by ten a.m. Johnny was going with friends to the base swimming pool. His crowd was fast, just a little on the wild side, all of them aching to prove their manhood. At fifteen, he had no desire to be saddled with his kid brother. Johnny had meant to turn him down flat. What would his friends think if he showed up with his little brother? They’d think he was some kind of—of babysitter or something. That his mama had made him bring the tagalong—

  But the adoring look in Pete’s young face had stopped him cold that long ago July day, the haunting note in his voice reminding him of that now.

  “Pete?” he whispered huskily. “What the hell are you doing—”

  “Be careful what you say—they’re listening…recording—”

  Johnny nodded impatiently. “I figured. Why are you here?”

  “I—uh…brought the pizza in. Someone had to do it, so…” Pete was talking faster now, and Johnny listened with every tense line of his body. If there was something Pete could tell him, some kind of warning Pete could give him, he w
ould. Johnny just needed to be able to connect it.

  “You volunteered, huh?”

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Pete paused a moment. Then, “They killed my partner—Levi—you remember him.” Pete’s voice shook as he spoke, and Johnny closed his eyes, hearing the effort his brother was making to keep his emotions in check.

  “Yeah, brother. I remember.” Johnny played the game. He’d known Levi Santiago for years, but he had to figure Pete was working an angle of his own by the way he was wording his side of the conversation, as if Johnny was unfamiliar with this aspect of his life…

  “That’s…why I volunteered. Wanted to—to make sure you were still…in one piece. Even security guards need…a policeman every once in a while, right?”

  Security guards—Johnny’s eyes narrowed. So Pete was protecting the fact that Johnny was a cop, too. He sighed. “You got that right.” He could hear Pete’s utter relief through the silence.

  Johnny could imagine his brother’s serious expression bearing the very finest edge of his small triumph. When Pete spoke again, Johnny heard it in his tone.

  “Gotta go now, Johnny. Take—care of yourself.”

  The line went dead before Johnny could respond. Pete had had an eye on the clock, counting the seconds, breaking the connection before McShane could get a fix.

  He turned the phone off. “You too,” he murmured, knowing that Pete was more than likely getting the hell beaten out of him for hanging up.

  Johnny put the phone into his pocket, looking at Daniel. Daniel didn’t say anything, but Johnny realized he felt taken advantage of in some convoluted way. It took all of his self-control not to demand that Daniel return the missing bullets, as well. But, at this point, Johnny knew that Daniel would see that request as adding insult to injury.

  He struggled to his feet, leaning against the wall. His side burned like hell every time he drew breath, and as he took one carefully-placed step forward, the wound in his thigh jolted him with a sharp stab of agony. His face twisted briefly in a grimace, and he looked down, panting hard from the pain and exertion.