Just as Angelo hit the end button he heard the frantic barking of a dog. His heart leapt to his throat. He would recognize that bark anywhere. He couldn't stop his fingers from shaking as he dialed the number for Jeffrey's phone.
* * * *
Jeffrey deliberately let the phone ring a couple of times before answering it. He pulled a doggie treat from the bag, holding it just out of Simone's reach. She whined pitifully, straining to reach the biscuit that Jeffrey was keeping from her. With a wicked grin, Jeffrey made sure Angelo could hear her whining when he answered the phone.
"I will skin you alive for this,” Angelo snarled as Simone cried in anguish on the other end of the phone.
"Ready to listen to me now?” Jeffrey asked.
"I'm listening,” Angel replied, his voice tight with rage.
"Simone is not hurt in any way. That will remain in effect only as long as Eva is unharmed,” Jeffrey assured him, petting Simone on the head while she crunched on the dog treat.
"I'm still listening,” Angelo answered.
"All I'm asking is for an even exchange,” Jeffrey replied. “Simone for Eva. Some place neutral. Some place safe for all concerned parties."
"That's going to take a while to set up,” Angelo answered.
Jeffrey knew that Angel was stalling for time. He knew the game well. Angelo would hold out for as long as possible. While he was stalling, he would have his men on the street looking for them, and when they were located, Angelo would execute an ambush. Jeffrey wasn't going to allow that to happen.
"Don't take too long,” Jeffrey warned. “It makes me nervous to have this dog around, barking all the time. I may have to tape her mouth shut."
"I'll get back to you,” Angel answered curtly.
Angelo was trying to disguise it, but Jeffrey heard the anxiety in his voice. The man was stressed to the breaking point. Over a sissy dog. It would be hilarious if lives weren't at stake.
* * * *
Jeffrey held the binoculars to his face, watching for any movement around the vicinity of the Lincoln. He, Lynne, and Simone were in a parking garage directly across the street from the docks. A smaller building sat between the garage and the dock, but Jeffrey had bribed the attendant an obscene amount of money to let them drive to the top level and park in a restricted space.
"Can you see my mom?” Lynne asked hopefully.
"Not yet, babe,” Jeffrey answered, never diverting his attention from the car. “Keep an eye out for anyone moving up here,” he warned. “We don't want to be found."
Lynne did a careful perusal of the parked cars. “Nothing,” she whispered.
Even Simone remained quiet, but then Jeffrey wondered if that was because she had stuffed herself on doggie treats and was now content to stretch out on the back seat and sleep. She was snoring softly.
Jeffrey caught a flutter of movement on the dock. He zoomed the binoculars in tight on the black Town Car. Angelo's driver stepped out of the Lincoln and looked around. He took his time examining the area, slow and steady, mentally following a grid pattern. When he had examined the ground level, he looked upward. Jeffrey wasn't worried about being spotted; he knew the driver couldn't see them from where he was standing. It was the other guards that had Jeffrey concerned. They had to be around somewhere, even if he couldn't spot them.
Obviously satisfied with his inspection, the driver opened the back door of the Town Car and Angelo stepped out. He began moving for the freight office immediately, leaving the driver to retrieve Eva from the car. Jeffrey watched as the chauffeur grasped her arm and quickly escorted her inside the office. When the door shut behind them, he lowered the binoculars.
"Your mom's okay, they just took her inside the freight office. I'll give Angelo ten minutes before I give him a wake up call."
"What are you going to do?” Lynne asked nervously.
Jeffrey looked in the rearview mirror at the sleeping dog. “I'm going to give Simone a new hairstyle."
* * * *
Lynne watched in horrified fascination as Jeffrey took his Swiss army knife and randomly hacked off great hunks of Simone's hair. He took extra precaution to leave the perky red bows attached to the mutilated curls. Simone seemed indifferent to her disfigurement; she licked Jeffrey's hand, gave a cheerful low bark and wagged with delight at his attention.
"Good girl,” Jeffrey purred, stroking the top of her head. “Don't you look just fine,” he snickered.
She wagged all the harder at his praise.
Lynne put both hands over her mouth and laughed. Simone was a disaster. A complete disaster. She looked like a deranged punk rocker. Her hair was sticking out in every direction with no rhyme or reason to the styling. In some places, Jeffrey had cut the hair so close Simone's pink skin was noticeable.
Lynne shook her head in amusement. “You know that when Angel gets a good look at her he's going to have a heart attack."
Jeffrey smirked. “I'm counting on it.” He was scooping up handfuls of the fluffy white hair and stuffing it into the empty dog treat box.
"What now?” Lynne asked, wondering what he had in mind.
"I'm going to get someone to deliver this to Angel. Have you got something to write on?"
Lynne fished through the glove compartment until she found a scrap of paper and an ink pen. “Here you go,” she said, handing him the items.
Jeffrey jotted a quick note to Angelo sticking it onto the tacky seal of the box. “Let's see how long it takes him to call after he gets this."
"Not long, I think,” Lynne said.
She was right.
* * * *
Less than five minutes after the delivery was made to Angelo at the dock office, Jeffrey's phone began to ring. He looked at Lynne with triumph. “Thought that might get his attention."
He flipped open the cell phone, switching it to speaker so Lynne could hear the conversation. “I got tired of waiting, Angelo. I do crazy things when I get bored."
"I am going to kill you slowly, you fuck,” Angelo choked out. “Bring Simone to the park. We'll meet at the Grimshaw fountain in half an hour. Lynne will know where I'm talking about."
Jeffrey glanced over at Lynne and she nodded in agreement. “That wasn't so hard now, was it?” Jeffrey taunted.
"This isn't over,” Angelo warned.
"I never thought it was,” Jeffrey said.
Angelo hung up without answering.
Jeffrey pulled the binoculars back to his face, watching the door of the office. He saw the door open a fraction, then close.
After a moment, the driver stepped out. He gave a cursory glance around the dock and walked directly to the Town Car, opening the back door. He stood with his hand on the door, waiting for Angelo.
Next, Frankie DeMarco exited the office. He was carrying a sub-machine pistol in his hand. He stopped just outside the door, his eyes shifting from side to side as he looked for threats. He and the driver exchanged a hand signal and Frankie turned back to the office, speaking to someone inside. Angelo promptly walked out the door making sure to stay behind Frankie.
"Okay, they're on the move,” Jeffrey said to Lynne.
He was getting ready to lower the binoculars when he saw Frankie's feet fly out from under him and a bright spray of blood erupted from the center of his forehead.
"Damn!” Jeffrey exclaimed, helpless to stop the disaster that was taking place before his eyes.
The chauffeur was already moving to block Angelo from the shooter when his shoulders stiffened and he hit the ground, face forward, nearly falling into the man he died trying to protect.
At the killing of his bodyguards, Angelo dropped to the pavement, making himself a smaller target, and therefore harder to fatally wound. He lay perfectly still, using the two dead bodies as a shield.
The shooting stopped momentarily.
Jeffrey panned the dock area looking for any sign of the gunman. He caught two men stealthily creeping toward Angelo. They had their guns raised for defense, not murder. Jeffr
ey knew by their actions they were Angelo's men, but before either man could reach him, another shot rang out. The closest of the men fell lifelessly to the ground. The other immediately took cover.
Jeffrey wondered how the hell he was going to retrieve Eva from this mess.
Chapter Seven
Hank Lester, Director of CIA Field Operations, was sore and in a great deal of pain. He had two cracked ribs, a broken arm, and mild concussion. All of his injuries were an indirect result of his previous phone conversation with Jeffrey Shelton. After talking to Jeffrey about O'Brien's duplicity, he had called in a rookie agent to pick up Eva Barnett for her protection. At the time, it seemed like an effortless assignment. One even a cherry could handle. When he lost contact with that agent, he had requisitioned his driver and taken to the street himself.
On the way to retrieve Eva, Hank's car was involved in a crash on the beltway. The collision was a deliberate attempt on his life. However, like the old solider he was, he survived against all odds. Bill Smith, his good friend and driver, didn't. Neither did the rookie that had been sent to pick up Eva. His body was found in a nearby alley. Now Hank wanted his own brand of revenge against Perry Angelo and rogue agent, Sean O'Brien.
"You shouldn't be here, sir,” the driver of the director's car said. He glanced worriedly at Hank who had refused to ride in the back.
Hank gave an irritated snort. “This sonofabitch is going down and I want to see it."
"What about Shelton?” The driver was monitoring a small GPS unit that was installed on the dash of the armored SUV. He could see the position of the director's team and the small red dot that signified Jeffrey's stationary position. The tracking code was installed in the agents’ driver's licenses and could be activated and monitored from close distances when necessary.
Hank's gaze slid to the screen for a moment. “Best to keep him out of the loop for a bit. Shelton has a way of getting the job done, but we'd never be able to keep a lid on it."
The driver nodded that he understood. “Alpha Team is going inside for the civilian retrieval."
Hank picked up his binoculars and watched the dock for any sign of movement. His men were good. He couldn't pick them out. He wondered where they had found an opening to infiltrate.
Sometimes Hank missed the challenge of being in the field. He liked to live vicariously through the team leader, listening to his radio contact and imagining himself back on assignment.
"Has anyone spotted O'Brien?” he asked.
"No, sir."
"I want him alive,” Hank said grimly. “I need to talk to him."
* * * *
Lynne sat forward in the seat watching the dock with troubled eyes. “Where are the cops? Someone should have called them by now."
"Precisely,” Jeffrey answered with a slow grin. “The cops have been warned off, sweetcheeks. This is an agency operation and they're trying to keep all the fun for themselves.” He was fishing his wallet out of the pocket of his jeans at the same time he was reaching under the seat for the automatic pistol he had hidden.
"Why do you want me to keep your wallet?” Lynne asked in confusion when he handed it to her.
"Cause I won't be needing any condoms until I get back,” Jeffrey answered flippantly; anticipating, and dodging, the playful slap Lynne aimed his way. He grew serious. “It has an emergency tracking device they can activate. I don't want them to know I'm in the game."
"That can get you killed,” Lynne warned.
"I'll be careful,” Jeffrey promised, leaning over to give her a hard kiss before he opened the door of the car.
Simone immediately raised her head and whined, giving a low bark of protest.
"I'll be back, furball,” Jeffrey reassured her, giving the dog a swift pat on the head.
* * * *
Inside the dock manager's office, Eva watched Sean O'Brien approach her with desperation written all over his face. She knew from his expression he was a trapped man and capable of doing anything to escape. She watched him warily, trying to keep as much distance as possible between them in the small space.
"You're my ticket out of here,” he said. “You're going to come with me. As soon as I get off the docks, I'll let you go."
"No. I'm not going with you.” Eva returned quietly, moving further away from him.
O'Brien's face flushed with anger and he lunged forward, making a grab for her. “I don't have time for this. Get your ass over here or I'll..."
His words trailed off into nothing as a chemical dart imbedded itself deeply into his neck. O'Brien's eyes rolled back in his head and he slid unconscious to the floor, dropping his gun.
Hank's team had entered the room silently. The team leader kicked O'Brien's gun out of reach and knelt beside him, checking for a pulse. “He's alive,” he confirmed into his headset, reholstering the gun he had used to shoot O'Brien.
The man glanced up at Eva. “I have confirmation on the hostage. She appears unharmed. We'll be evacuating hostage, and prisoner, after we secure the area."
A second man stepped forward. He smiled reassuringly at Eva. “Mrs. Barnett?"
Eva nodded, blinking to hold back the tears burning her eyes.
The agent patted her shoulder understandingly. “It's going to be just fine. You're safe now. We've got a medical team waiting for you."
"I'd like to see my daughter,” Eva said.
"Of course, we'll have her brought to you.” He grasped her arm firmly, escorting her past the two agents who were on the floor working with O'Brien.
They had shackled his wrists together with lightweight plastic cuffs that looked like lawn bag fasteners. None too gently, they were slapping him on the face to bring him back to consciousness. He stirred, trying to jerk away from the burning smacks.
"Wake up, sleeping beauty,” the senior agent taunted. “The director wants to have a word with you."
O'Brien paled as they hauled him to his feet and pushed him ahead, holding a gun on his back.
* * * *
Lynne picked up Jeffrey's binoculars and watched the drama unfolding on the dock below her. Angelo was still pinned down behind the bodies of Frankie and the chauffeur. Every time he raised his head someone would fire a warning shot in his direction.
Looking through the lens, she searched for any sign of Jeffrey or her mother. No one had come out the door or gone inside. Lynne knew there must be countless ways in and out of the dock offices. She hoped they hadn't moved Eva to another location during the shooting.
She was concentrating so hard on trying to locate her mother, or Jeffrey, that she didn't notice anyone approaching the car. When her door was yanked open, she gave a startled scream and a brutal hand clamped down over her mouth.
"Look at this,” one of Angelo's men said to the other. “We just got lucky. We got a bargaining chip."
The other man was staring down into the car with a frown of concentration. “What the hell happened to this dog?"
Still holding Lynne tightly, the first man looked past her into the backseat. She knew from the expression on his face the exact moment realization dawned on him. “Oh fuck, Charley. That's Angel's dog. The poodle."
Charley looked from Simone to Lynne, then back again. His mouth opened in disbelief at the sight before him. “You are going to be one dead bitch when the boss sees her. You know that?"
Lynne glared at him defiantly. “Better one dead bitch than one brainless flunky."
Charley raised his hand to slap her and the gesture of violence sent Simone into a protective frenzy. She bounded forward, barking furiously. In her attempt to protect Lynne, she bounced into the steering wheel, hitting the horn with a loud honk. Her foot seemed to be resting on the horn as she pushed off the wheel and launched herself toward the two men leaning into the car. They immediately let loose of Lynne and stepped back away from the growling poodle.
Lynne put her arms protectively around Simone. “What can I say? She likes me more than she likes you.” She didn't try to dissuade t
he poodle from moving off her lap.
Simone continued to growl threateningly, keeping the two men at a safe distance.
* * * *
Jeffrey heard the car horn and Simone's warning bark. He swore in frustration, heading back toward the parking garage at a run. Before he could reach the first level, Angelo took that moment to create a diversion. He shot the gas tank of the Lincoln causing the car to burst into flames. Jeffrey knew it was an act of desperation on Angelo's part. But it worked. The closest agents scrambled to take cover from what they knew would soon turn into a mass of exploding shrapnel.
Jeffrey watched Angelo bolt from the ground with the speed of an Olympic sprinter. He ran from the parking lot using the flames of the burning car as cover for his escape. The closest agents could catch glimpses of him running, but they were protecting themselves from the oncoming explosion and were unable to get a safe shot in his direction.
Jeffrey was torn. He wanted to return to Lynne, but he wasn't certain that she was in danger. The dog might have gotten restless, sensed Angelo was near, or any of a number of explanations for her barking. Hell, for that matter, she could have been after the dog treat box and stood on the steering wheel, hitting the horn.
It was definite that Angelo was going to escape if Jeffrey didn't go after him. He hesitated. Damn! If Angelo escaped they would never be safe. Jeffrey made a decision he hoped wouldn't haunt him for the rest of his life. He went after Angelo.
By the time he crossed the street, the Lincoln was fully engulfed in flames. Just as he expected, the Town Car exploded, flying off the ground in an impressive display of flaming metal. Jeffrey dodged flying shreds of the vehicle as he raced in the direction he had watched Angelo take.
* * * *
Lynne was momentarily distracted by the blast that shook the parking garage. She and her two captors immediately turned their attention to the detonation of the gas tank on the Town Car. The bang of the explosion echoed through the levels of the garage. It was deafening in its intensity.
Simone was still standing guard across Lynne's legs, barking frantically, nervous from the hostility and noise. Frightened by the blast, Simone hurdled out of Lynne's lap and onto the concrete, attacking Charley, sinking her teeth into his leg.
Right Bride, Wrong Groom Page 7
