by Cat Connor
“Everyone okay?” Kurt asked, his eyes darted from me to Kennedy to Jen.
I smiled. “Yeah, surprise!”
“Nine lives, Conway. I swear you’re running out,” Kurt replied with a smile. He took my wrist and checked the oximeter. “Some deep breaths would be helpful.”
I took one. Pain shuddered through my rib cage. I took another and another. Pain just meant I was alive.
“How bad is that?” he asked.
“I can cope,” I replied. I knew my voice sounded strained. Breathing or talking, seemed to be an either or situation while things evened out. “Emergency services.” I took a breath. “Bomb squad. We need the dogs in what’s left of those buildings.”
“Less talking more breathing,” Kurt replied.
I heard Sam and Lee on their phones relaying what I’d said.
Kurt took over. I leaned on the wall. Mitch leaned next to me. His fingers catching mine. No words.
I listened to Kurt and heard Caine’s voice in my head reminding me I needed to delegate more. Made me smile.
Kurt separated everyone into teams. FBI and NCIS with the UN.
“What’d you say about the UN?” Holmes asked with a wry grin. “That’s how you refer to us?”
Kurt smiled. “Yes. United Nations.”
Kennedy laughed. His laugh was warm, lilting and in different circumstances, I bet it was infectious. “United Nations. That’s an apt description of the four of us rapscallions.”
I turned my head toward Kennedy. “Why didn’t you just tell me you were all back together and here for a reason?” Really? We could’ve been working together from the beginning. “Why didn’t you all come to me? We’ve been here before, yes?”
Kurt leaned closer. “Less talk more breathing.”
Kennedy grinned. “Conway, you were injured. With what was going on in D.C, we didn’t want to put the abduction on you as well.”
“But from what I can tell it’s all linked.”
“It looks that way now.”
“Danni Lane was the bomber, what the hell was that all about?” I muttered, ignoring Kurt’s warning about less talking.
Across the road, I heard sounds of life. Sirens, people coughing and talking, crying, barked orders. I didn’t move to look. No need. Not my problem now. My problem was ahead of me. Finding Robinson.
“We’re rolling as planned on Robinson’s estate,” Kurt said. “You’re teamed up. I’ll have SWAT meet us and air support. We are getting this prick today.”
A hand waved in front of my face. I blinked but didn’t flinch.
“Conway, you and Mitch are going back to the hotel,” Kurt said. “You’re sitting this one out. No arguments.”
A little duck quacked in circles. Confused. The duck climbed onto some bathroom scales. Scales? Why would a duck need scales?
“Get Troy’s friend in legal,” I said. “That’s the person who has been fucking with my orders.”
The duck flapped and jumped off the scales. It waddled away.
“We’ll get him,” Sam said. “Get going, Chicky.”
Kurt talked to Mitch, their voices hushed. I knew what it was about and for once didn’t mind.
We walked away, arm in arm.
Forty-Eight
Master Of Puppets
A very long hour after getting back to the hotel and Lee’s room, my cell phone rang. Caine. “You’re alive?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Good of you to call,” he grunted.
“I figured no news is good news,” I said, letting my smile infect my words.
“It’ll all be over soon.”
“Over? They got him?”
“Not exactly. They know where he is. You want to join Delta for the takedown?”
“Do bears shit in the woods?”
“Sending the address now. They’re waiting for you.”
My phone buzzed as the address arrived.
“Thanks Caine.”
“Go. Don’t get dead.”
I hung up and turned to Mitch. He was already at the door. He jangled the car keys at me and smiled.
“Just tell me where we’re going.”
I gave him the address. We walked in outward silence to the car. I could hear his thoughts as he shuffled them around but choose to leave him alone. My smashed-up body needed my scrambled brain to focus on the task at hand and not hop in and out of Mitch’s skull.
Mitch opened the front passenger door for me then closed it once I was seated.
“You all right?” he asked as he settled behind the wheel.
“Yep.”
My mind ticked. Twenty-three minutes disappeared on a single focused thought. Get Robinson. A sudden onslaught of noise told me we’d arrived and my door magically opened. Mitch held out his hand to help me from the car. We’d arrived.
Kurt’s voice rang out, “Gear up, Conway, you’re with me. Mitch get back in the car.”
“I’ll help her with her flak jacket first then happily get back in the car,” Mitch replied, matching Kurt’s no crap tone.
Mitch delved into the back of the SUV for my bullet-proof vest and FBI jacket. I waited. Groups of men and women, geared up, ready and waiting for orders, stood nearby. I recognized most of the faces. This was a hand-picked group of agents and SWAT, because if we’ve learned anything at all from past and recent events, it’s be careful who you trust.
Sam and Lee waved.
Mitch fastened the Velcro grips on my vest then helped me put my jacket on. “You want it zipped up?”
“No.” I flipped it behind my waist, making sure my holster was clear.
“Ready?” Mitch asked.
“Yep. Get back in the car. I’ll see you soon.”
He nodded. “Be safe, babe.”
“You can count on it.”
I walked away without looking back and joined Kurt in front of the mob of agents. He gave a short briefing.
“This is a simultaneous operation. We’re hitting the senator while Delta C locate and arrest the person in our legal division who has been helping probationary agent Justin Troy. This is a nasty rabbit hole, people. It ends now.” Kurt checked his phone then looked out at the group again. “The senator is not a stupid man and it’s likely he knows we are coming. Be safe, be alert. We want this prick.”
Shuffling silence greeted his words.
People were divided into groups of three and given entry orders.
“What if he tries to escape?” I asked quietly.
“Helicopters are standing by to intercept. Also, we’ve closed this road and it’s the only way in or out.”
“Okay.”
“You up for a walk?”
Not really. Couldn’t say that to Kurt or I’d be back in the car with Mitch.
“Sure.”
“You lie well,” Kurt replied with a smile. “Stick close, tell me if you need me.”
“Uh huh.”
We walked half a mile to the entrance of the estate. It hurt.
Standing next to Kurt I watched SWAT use bolt cutters to unlock the gates and start the choreographed assault on the property.
As I passed through the gates and followed Kurt and a three-man SWAT team up the long driveway, a sense of déjà vu enveloped me. I didn’t much care for it. Nor did I care for the constant pain in my ribs and head.
Don’t need a reminder I’m alive. I’m aware.
A coordinated operation against a senator. My gut churned. Why can’t people just play nice?
Two teams hurried past us to the left and two more to the right. Sam and Lee were right behind us with three more SWAT guys. Kurt grabbed my arm as the front door loomed between massive marble columns. Lee and Sam and their escorts took point.
“SWAT then Sam and Lee,” Kurt said. “And then us and our SWAT guys on our six.”
Taking no chances.
“Okay.” I remembered the briefing.
“You feel all right?”
“Yep.”
I foll
owed Kurt through the door into a huge entrance way. A sweeping staircase reminded me of Gone with the Wind. Expecting Rhett Butler to appear at any second I was surprised when a child flew from under the stairs and stopped in front of us.
“Christ!” Sam exclaimed, grabbing the kid by the arm and pushing her toward Kurt.
We stopped, letting the others go ahead.
“Who are you?” I asked, taking the kid’s arm.
“Lily,” she said, trying to wriggle from my grip. “Let me go!”
“Can’t do that, Lily,” I said, handing her off to a SWAT member who removed her from the house.
Kurt and I caught up with Sam and Lee on the staircase. Pounding boots resounded on the floor below us and floor above. My heart pounded from exertion; each beat vibrated through my ribs. Just when I thought it was going well, gunfire erupted from somewhere.
The pace quickened, the stairs were no place to be with bullets flying around.
At the top of the stairs, Sam pointed to a closed door.
“That just shut,” he said.
Kurt nodded. He motioned me to follow him. We moved further down the hallway. Large paintings hung in ornate frames. There was a lot of money hanging on the off-white walls. Gone with the Wind came back in full force. I turned my head toward a commotion at the top of the stairs. Scarlett followed Rhett from a room, pleading with him to stay. I listened, leaning over the banister to see Rhett pause at the bottom of the staircase and hear his famous words. “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” The front door opened and closed. Rhett was gone. The world was no longer a sound stage.
“Conway?”
“What?”
“What were you looking at?” Kurt asked from beside me.
“Never mind.”
I knew I shouldn’t be there, and telling Kurt about Rhett and Scarlett would cause undue worry on his part. I turned to see what was happening in the hallway.
The door where I’d seen Rhett appear was open. I saw the back of a battle-dressed man as he moved into the room and out of my line of sight. A moment later Sam and Lee entered the room. Voices rose and sank from within the room, too muffled for me to make out words.
He and Lee came out walking a handcuffed male between them.
“Who are you?” I called from my position because Kurt wouldn’t let me go closer.
“None of your business, bitch.”
A smile settled on my lips. I knew who he was. He was the man from the photos I saw when we rescued Anastazia.
“Keith Blackwell, pervert, pedophile, human trafficker, and general asshole. What a resumé.”
Blackwall spat in my direction.
Sam’s elbow tapped the side of Blackwell’s head. “No spitting at the boss, dickwad.”
“You know what happens to assholes like you in prison?” I said with a grin.
“You think I’m going to jail. That’s cute,” Blackwell crooned.
“Your ‘get out of jail free’ card no longer works.”
Running boots hit the marble floor downstairs. Footsteps echoed. A voice rang out, “Agent Conway?”
I leaned over the rail. Lee encouraged Blackwell to walk down the stairs.
“Up here …”
“We need you and Henderson.”
“On our way.”
Kurt and I hurried past the prisoner on the stairs and joined the agent in the middle of the entrance hall.
“You are?” I asked, scanning his face. I thought I knew him but couldn’t be sure.
He smiled. “Claude. We work together.”
“Sorry,” I said. Really sorry: there was bound to be something hinky happening in my head after the crash. Guess we found it.
The muscles in Kurt’s jaw tightened.
“Conway, Claude is the SSA of Delta B,” Kurt said keeping his voice low.
“Thank you,” I replied, matching his tone.
Claude glanced from me to Kurt and back, then wisely left it alone.
“Follow me. The senator is holed up in his study at the back of the house.”
We followed Claude through two wide hallways, past many paintings and occasional tables containing vases full of fresh flowers. Claude stopped a few feet back from a solid-looking set of double wooden doors. An agent stood on each side of the doors. Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee. Them, I recognized.
“Do we have eyes in the room?” I asked.
The agent on the left spoke. Tweedle Dum.
“SWAT is working on it.”
“Okay. He got weapons in there?”
“No way of knowing ma’am,” Tweedle Dee replied.
I managed to keep their names out of conversation. I leaned close to Kurt and whispered. “Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee?”
He smiled. “Very good, Conway. Do you know their actual names?”
“Not a fucking clue,” I said, grinning.
Kurt nodded, his smile still in place.
I gave Tweedle Dee all my attention. “What do you know, Agent?”
“He locked the door. I heard him talking. We cut the phone lines but the talking continued, so maybe a cell phone.”
“Or he’s talking to himself? Or there is someone else in the room?”
“I don’t know. He was ahead of us and shut the door before we could get a look.”
I turned to Kurt. “We need to account for all staff. This place doesn’t run itself. Someone puts the fresh flowers in those fancy vases and dusts those freaking paintings.”
I just bet he had a housekeeper and cook and several cleaning staff. Maids? Are they still called that?
Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee shuffled uncomfortably. Tweedle Dum looked like he wanted to say something.
“Problem?” I asked.
“Ma’am. Yes. Ma’am.”
Jeez. Get over the ma’am crap.
“Speak.”
“My aunt works for Robinson, she cleans for him.”
Crap.
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know if she was at work today. Haven’t had time to call her.”
“Do it now.”
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and made the call. No one moved or spoke. From down the hall I heard a phone ring. I breathed out. At least it wasn’t from behind the closed doors.
“What’s her name?”
“Akio Uzumaki,” he replied.
“Stay where you are,” I said.
Kurt and I went to investigate. The ringing grew louder, from inside a door.
“On two,” Kurt said, his weapon in his hand.
I swallowed. Breathed out. Turned the handle and pulled. The door swung toward me. Kurt stepped into the doorway. He passed me a cell phone. It was still ringing.
Not good.
I answered Tweedle Dum’s call then switched off the phone.
“This is a closest, a janitor’s room,” Kurt said. “Cleaning supplies. Shelves stacked with toilet paper, tissue boxes, and soap. The phone was on the shelf by the door.”
We walked back.
“Sorry, no aunt, just this.” I held up the phone we found.
Tweedle Dum’s face crumpled. I thought he was going to cry. He sucked it up. Good job.
Claude was on his phone. He ended the call and spoke, “We have two staff unaccounted for. One a maid and the other a gardener.”
His phone rang.
“Revising that. The gardener took the day off. One maid is unaccounted for and last seen going into the supply closet in the east wing.” He looked around. “Where do you suppose we are?”
“My guess would be the east wing,” Kurt said. “We found her phone in a supply closet.”
My guess is we have a hostage situation on our hands.
“We need eyes in there A-sap,” Claude muttered.
“Is there another way out of this wing or do I have to go back that way?” I asked, pointing back the way we’d come.
Claude pointed down the hall past Tweedle Dum. “Go down there, hang a right, there’s an external do
or.”
“Thanks. You three stay put.”
Kurt and I hurried off. I had my phone in my hand, already talking to Lee when we found the door.
“Possible hostage situation. Clear the rest of the house then meet us out the back of the east wing.”
“Be there in ten, Chicky.”
I hung up. Kurt knocked on the glass window in the door and held up his badge. A heavily armed SWAT agent nodded and opened the door for us.
“Where is everyone?” Kurt asked.
“Just around the corner,” the agent replied. His voice sounded familiar. He turned to me and grinned. “Hey, Conway.”
Think. You know him.
I needed a name to match the voice because his face wasn’t triggering anything.
“Kris.”
“In the flesh,” he said with a small laugh.
“It’s about to get messy. Find someone else to cover this door and join us,” I said.
“Will do.”
Kurt walked ahead of me. He leaned against the house and peered around the corner. I heard him call out, “FBI, coming in.”
I caught up and we stepped away from the cover provided by the building and into SWAT controlled territory. Andrews walked toward us. I recognized him and felt a relieved smile settle.
“Keep over this way and out of the firing line,” he said, ushering us away from the back of the building. We walked about three-hundred yards to the command truck parked at the end of the driveway in front of what looked like a five-car garage. We stood beside the truck facing the house. The study had large windows and a French door that lead to a small lawn and garden. A lavender hedge separated the area from the driveway.
“We’ve got eyes inside,” Andrews said.
“And?” Kurt replied.
“Senator Robinson and an unknown female. We believe she’s staff.”
“We have a maid by the name of Akio Uzumaki unaccounted for. Could it be her,” Kurt asked.
I felt my breath catch on my ribs. Wishing Andrews would say no and the missing woman would magically appear from a walk in the garden.
No magic.
“Could be.”
“Have you communicated with Robinson?” I asked, looking for vantage points that offered an unobstructed line of sight into the ground floor study. I scanned the roof of the garage. It could be done. A glint from the far right told me there was someone up there with binoculars. A large oak tree caught my interest. That would work.
