Hunted (FBI Heat Book 1)
Page 21
The man’s eyes widened at the use of his real name and the mention of his drug lord cousin.
“You’re right, Mr. Moore, or whatever your real name is.”
So Maria wasn’t the only one who’d recognized him.
Several yards away, Johnson groaned. Ben registered the sound, but he couldn’t do a damn thing to help.
“I’m screwed. I don’t have anything to lose.” He shifted more behind his human shield. “Do you want me to blow her brains out?”
Shit. Nothing more dangerous than a guy with nothing to lose. “Let her go. Don’t add murder to your rap sheet.”
“Why should I care? I’ll never get out anyway.”
“You’re a doctor. What about the ‘do no harm’ thing?”
He barked a cynical laugh. “I gave up that pledge years ago. Last warning, Mr. Moore. Put down the gun.”
Although his hand shook, the coldhearted bastard meant it. He’d kill Maria.
Ben had no shot. And Garcia could turn the gun on him instead of Maria in a nanosecond, but he would just have to take that chance.
“You win, Garcia. I’m putting it down.” Keeping his eyes on the doctor and Maria, he bent and laid the Glock on the ground. “See. Let her go.”
“Kick it this way.”
His gaze darted to Johnson, who groaned again but didn’t move. Then to Maria, her eyes now glistening with hopelessness and tears.
“You won’t get away,” he repeated, a vow to himself as much as a warning to the doctor.
He lifted his right foot and kicked the Glock.
Garcia’s gun swung toward Ben.
The blast and Maria’s scream were simultaneous.
Chapter 29
Amber glared at the Cor Beach Apt on the screen. Her hand hovered over the phone. After several seconds, she picked it up but didn’t answer. She carried it into the living room and peeked through the blinds. Everything looked normal in the deserted courtyard.
She could barely see the office windows from this angle. Nothing inside was really visible except the glow from the ceiling fixtures. Since the lights were on, Lisa had already opened for business. On weekdays, she was usually the only person staffing the office, which meant she tried not to leave it unattended for long stretches, although she did run errands and show apartments to prospective tenants. In those instances, she always stuck one of those little clock signs on the door indicating when she expected to return. Amber couldn’t see if it was there or not.
She frowned. Since Lisa would expect her to be at work on a Thursday morning, it seemed odd to call at this hour.
Something was… off.
If she wasn’t worried out of her mind about Ben and Maria right now, she would answer the call and find out what was going on. But any news Lisa might have promised to be far less important, so why add it to her already über-stressful morning?
The phone stopped ringing. She glanced at it with an uneasy feeling.
* * *
Ben hit the concrete hard. The instant his foot kicked the Glock, he’d bent his leg so he fell instead of stood. He tucked and rolled. To the right. Toward his gun.
An experienced shooter would’ve known to wait the extra second for the target to stabilize after the kick. But Ben had bet correctly that Dr. Garcia wasn’t an expert marksman. He wasn’t a novice either though, because in Ben’s judgment, the bullet probably would’ve at least winged him if he’d stayed in place.
Still moving, Ben grabbed the Glock and continued to roll onto his stomach. He aimed. But again, he didn’t have a clear shot. He couldn’t risk hitting Maria.
Realizing he’d missed and was now in Ben’s crosshairs, the doctor wrapped his free arm around Maria’s neck and backed away quickly, making sure his human shield covered him. He stumbled, but kept moving.
Once Garcia and his hostage cleared the far end of the building, Ben scrambled to his feet. After a quick glance at Loco’s motionless body, he rushed to Johnson.
“Agent down, agent down, outside backstairs door,” he hollered into his mic.
He dropped to his knees. Despite the puddle of blood spreading beneath the man, his leg wound didn’t look life threatening. Relief flooded him when his fellow agent opened his eyes.
“Not… bad. Loco?” Johnson ground out through clenched teeth.
He jumped up to confirm. The coyote had a hole through his heart. Ben didn’t take time to check for a pulse.
“Dead,” he yelled to Johnson.
The injured agent managed a pain-filled grin. “Go… get ’em… Boss.”
“Help’s coming,” Ben said before he took off at a run. “Rex, Johnson’s down. Needs an ambulance. Garcia’s running and has a hostage. I’m in pursuit. Send choppers.”
“Copy that. Wait for backup,” his boss responded.
“No time.”
“Ben—”
“He’s got Maria.”
He rounded the corner of the dormitory. His gaze swept Seacoast Drive. Garcia, dragging Maria with him, darted across the street toward the beach. Shit! Even at this time of morning, the public beach wouldn’t be deserted. And numerous beachfront structures offered plenty of hiding places.
“Garcia’s heading for the beach.”
He didn’t wait for a response before sprinting toward where they’d disappeared between two buildings. Would Garcia head north or south along the shoreline? The screams of people to the left quickly answered the question.
Garcia ran along the wet sand near the water’s edge. Better footing, less effort, for sure, but Maria was slowing him down.
Ben raced through the dry sand as far from the water as he could. The shifting ground seemed determined to bury his feet, and each step required extra strength and balance.
Garcia would eventually spot him, but Ben couldn’t be out in the open where the doctor might be tempted to take a shot. Too many civilians in the line of fire. Dodging and weaving around obstacles, he sped past the innocent bystanders. “FBI. Get down, get down,” he warned.
Despite the tougher terrain, he gained ground quickly. When he was within fifty feet, he angled across the beach until he ran directly behind Garcia, who hadn’t spotted him yet. No swimmers or surfers were in the water, so he fired a shot out over the waves.
Garcia stumbled to a stop and spun around, positioning Maria in front of him, the gun to her temple.
Ben braced himself in the wet sand. He needed to end this now before anyone else got hurt.
Looking past the doctor, he pointed at the man repeatedly with his left hand. “Get Garcia now. Shoot, shoot!” he yelled to the empty space beyond his target.
Garcia jerked his head around, leaning sideways in the process, to see who was attacking him from behind. The gun swiveled away from his hostage.
“Down, Maria,” Ben shouted.
And pulled the trigger.
* * *
When her cell rang the third time, Amber was bent over the tub, scrubbing furiously. Not that the tub or anything else in the bathroom was dirty—Ben kept an exceptionally clean place for a guy—but she needed something physical to do since listening to music hadn’t lessened her stress at all.
She jumped up and grabbed the phone from the vanity in hopes it would finally be Ben calling to tell her the raids had been successful and he was fine. But no. The unwelcome ID, Cor Beach Apt, stared back at her, taunting her. Her heart sank.
Why hadn’t Ben called? He’d been gone for hours and hours. Was something wrong? Was he… hurt?
She pressed the now-silent phone to her heart and said a prayer.
* * *
With Garcia’s grip loosening as he turned around to look behind him, Maria had dropped to the ground as Ben ordered. She’d screamed and covered her ears when Ben fired.
The head shot left the doctor sprawled on the sand. Shaking convulsively and sobbing, she lay curled into a ball. Ben landed in the sand beside her and pulled her onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her against his che
st.
“You’re safe, Maria. The doctor’s dead. He can’t hurt you.” He cradled her head beneath his chin. “I’m Ben. I’m an FBI agent. I know Pedro.”
She lifted her head and stared at him in wonder. “Pedro? He is okay?”
Classic. The woman just barely escaped death, and she was worried about her boyfriend.
“Yeah, he’s fine. And he’s gonna be so happy to see you.”
She smiled through her tears and then laid her head on his shoulder.
Ben gazed out across the crashing waves to the horizon and exhaled.
“Ben? Update,” Rex shouted in his ear.
“Garcia’s dead. Maria’s safe.”
“You?”
He thought a moment. “Hungry.”
Rex laughed. “The steak’s on me.”
“Johnson? My team?”
“All good. The ambulance for Johnson just arrived. No other good guys hurt. Loco and the guard in the lobby are dead. Loco’s minion stable. Crime scene secured.”
“The women?”
“No injuries. We’re releasing them from the rooms but keeping them sheltered in place upstairs. ICE is coming to handle transport and processing.”
“Request they bring Pedro.”
“Will do.”
“Status of the other raids?”
“All successful. No injuries. Excellent work. Staci’s team is still on standby for the location of the apartment. We should question Loco’s guy about it before they haul him off to the hospital.”
“Understood.” Approaching sirens caught his attention. “Sounds like the local cavalry is here. I’ll have them secure and guard this scene so I can take Maria back to the dormitory.”
“Agreed. I’ll meet you there. I’m leaving now.”
Chapter 30
Amber snatched her phone off the coffee table when it rang for the fourth time. And for the fourth time, it wasn’t Ben with news about the raid. Surely, it must be over by now. Unless… unless something had gone wrong, terribly wrong.
She sighed at the Cor Beach Apt on the screen. What in the world could be so urgent that Lisa would call her four times? Surrendering reluctantly to curiosity, she answered.
“Amber, this is L-Lisa. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.” Her voice sounded nasal, as though she had a cold or been crying.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m waiting on… an important phone call, so I didn’t want to tie up my phone.” Geez, her excuse sounded lame, especially knowing how serious the situation with Ben really was. “What’s up?”
“Y-Your apartment has a major plumbing leak. I got a call from your downstairs neighbor that water was dripping from the ceiling. When I-I couldn’t get in touch with you, I let myself in to check on it. You wouldn’t believe the mess. It’s a disaster. You need to get here or a bunch of your stuff is going to be ruined.”
“Oh my God. Seriously? Why today?” She stood up and slipped her feet into her sandals.
“This is the worst flooding I’ve ever seen. The carpet is so saturated I’m afraid it’ll all have to be replaced. And the stuff on the floor of your closet is soaked.”
“Holy shit.”
“Can you get off work and come home immediately?” Lisa pleaded. “Please.”
“Actually, I’m not at work. I’m… uh… I’ll be there in a minute.”
She dropped the phone into her purse. After scribbling a quick note saying she was at her place, she grabbed an armful of Ben’s towels from the linen closet. She slung her purse over her shoulder and raced to the door.
Through the peephole, she scanned as much of the complex as she could see. Nothing suspicious. She stepped outside and did another survey of the area. The courtyard and pool were deserted. No signs of Jeremy. Lisa’s frantic call urged her to hurry, but she even took a moment to check the mailbox space and the path to the garage from the second-floor landing. All clear. Satisfied, she bounded down the stairs, cut across the grass, and ran up the other staircase to her apartment.
Water covered the landing and dripped from beneath the front door. Lisa had left it slightly ajar, and a steady stream filled the crack. Amber pushed the door open with her hip and nearly slipped as she lurched into the apartment.
Instantly, the door slammed shut behind her.
Her mind barely had time to register Lisa sitting on the couch crying before she whirled back around toward the door.
Her face ran into a rock-hard fist.
The blow knocked her backward, her head snapping to the side, pain radiating through her jaw and neck with the whiplash. Black spots swam in her vision. Dropping the towels and purse, she stumbled until she regained her balance enough to kick high and hard in the direction of the attack.
Her leg found only empty space.
From extensive practice, her foot came down into a defensive stance. She raised her arms to block another blow and to prepare for her own offensive move. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision, needing to find her attacker.
Before she could spot Jeremy, something hard smashed into the back of her head.
Darkness engulfed her.
* * *
Ben let the phone ring until voice mail picked up. “Amber, call me. The op was a total success. I’m fine. Everything okay, babe?”
Frowning, he paused a moment before disconnecting. This morning, she’d been so uptight about the raid that she’d made him promise to call as soon as it was over. And now, she wasn’t answering to get the news.
In addition, she’d made promises of her own to convince him to leave her in his apartment instead of at the FBI office. One of those vows had been not to go anywhere. He didn’t think she’d lied. She had to be at his place. Maybe she’s in the bathroom and forgot to take the phone with her. She’ll call back. Shortly.
“Ben,” Rex said, pulling his thoughts back to the dormitory, “just as I suspected. Loco’s man caved easy. I got the address of the apartment and a count of the guards and women there. Just gave Staci’s team the okay to move.”
“Uh, great.”
His boss cocked his head. “Something wrong?”
He pushed aside thoughts of Amber. “Nope. Just thinking about the steak you owe me.”
“Want it tonight?”
“No. I have plans.”
“I hope you celebrate. This was a great op. Caught a lot of very bad guys.”
“Thanks, Boss.”
Someone yelled for Rex, and he hurried away.
Very bad guys.
“Ben, over here. I need your help,” Agent Carter called.
He raised his hand. “Be right there.” He frowned again. This man felt bad. Very bad. Marissa’s words floated through his memory.
He glanced at Maria sitting in the back of the ambulance, being examined by the paramedics. I saw a man and a woman. Raul Garcia and Loco certainly qualified as “very bad” men, and they’d both been with Maria. In the sky. In the air. He closed his eyes and concentrated harder. Nothing about today’s chase fit that piece of the premonition puzzle.
His eyes popped open. Maybe the image was referring to the choppers’ role in the op. But then, how did a very bad man and a woman factor in?
“Ben,” Carter said again.
Shaking away the unease raising the hair on his nape, Ben trotted over to see what the other agent needed.
* * *
How had a drum gotten inside her head? Every pounding beat synchronized perfectly with her heart. Her neck screamed with pain. Her face felt stiff and swollen. She couldn’t move her arms.
A whimpering sound eased its way around the drumbeat and into her consciousness.
A fragrance, a scent, a man’s aftershave drifted into her nose.
Jeremy!
Her eyes opened wide. She struggled to sit up, but discovered her hands were bound together behind her. She fell back to conserve energy, to regroup, to plan her escape.
She grimaced. The carpet wasn’t even damp. She’d fallen for a ruse. Damn.
> From the spot on the floor, she scanned the living room. Jeremy sat on the couch next to a bound and gagged Lisa. Fear glazed the rental agent’s eyes.
“Well, hello, Sleepin’ Beauty. I was beginnin’ to think I’d have to throw cold water on ya. Like I threw that bucket of water under your door a few minutes ago.” He laughed. “And we don’t really have time for you to take a nap, sweetheart. We need to be headin’ off to Mexico for our weddin’.”
She gulped down her panic. “Don’t hurt Lisa. This is between you and me.”
His eyes narrowed. “You bet it is. And I got a real good punishment planned for you this time. You have any idea how much trouble you’ve been to me, bitch?”
“I’ve tried to tell you, honey, that I’m not worth all this trouble. Find a woman who deserves you.” Appeasement and submission had worked in her favor before. Somehow, it confused him. But if Jeremy lost his temper, he was truly unpredictable, other than predictably violent.
He blinked, then frowned. “Shut up. That’s my decision.” He smiled down at Lisa. “Don’t go anywhere. We’re just gonna be in the bedroom packin’ up some things for my woman. You’ve been a big help. Don’t go ruinin’ it now.”
Lisa whimpered.
Jeremy pushed her back into the couch cushions as he rose. “Don’t screw with me. You’ll be sorry.” He stalked across the room to Amber.
When he yanked her up by the arm, she gasped with the pain in her neck. Black danced around the edges of her vision. Don’t pass out, don’t pass out.
He steered her down the hallway to the bedroom and shoved her onto the bed. Looming over her, he leered with cold, hard eyes.
“If we weren’t in such a hurry, sweetheart, I’d fuck you right now. My dick has sure missed ya.”
Her gaze darted to his fly as he rubbed himself. The bulge of his erection brought bile up her throat.
“You’re right, honey. We’ll have more time to do it right later,” she said.
He continued to stare at her crotch, his tongue swiping across his lips numerous times.
“Would you undo my hands so I can pack?”
Jeremy’s head jerked up as if he’d been completely lost in his lecherous thoughts. “I ain’t stupid, bitch. I remember what you did to me last time. You think you’re so smart learnin’ all that kung fu shit. None of it will beat this mother.”