Wanted (FBI Heat Book 3)

by Marissa Garner

  He sneezed twice. “I think I’m allergic to baby powder. Is that possible?”

  “I don’t know,” she answered absently and continued to stare at the phone on the coffee table.

  He fought the urge to hold her, comfort her, and love her because that wasn’t what she wanted from him. Sex had been acceptable, but she didn’t want more than that. When he’d laid his soul bare and admitted he still loved her, she hadn’t responded in kind. Despite everything they’d just endured, they still didn’t have a future together.

  His iPhone jerked him out of his thoughts. “Yeah, Boss?”

  “Any word from the Chinese?” Rex asked.

  He shot a glance at Kat. “Not yet.”

  “Damn. Well, I have an update if you two can stomach it.”

  “Sounds good to me. Get my mind off…things for a bit.” He turned to Kat. “My boss has an update. You want to listen?”

  “Sure,” she said halfheartedly.

  “Go ahead, Boss.”

  “Hello, Ms. MacKenzie. I’m Supervisory Special Agent Rex Kelley. First, I want to thank you for your help in all this. You performed a great service to our country. I also apologize for our lack of immediate response when you originally contacted Dillon about the problem.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Dillon may have already shared some of this with you. Right after he called me to report the kidnapping by the Chinese government, we received a data dump from an anonymous hacker group calling themselves TSK. Their information confirms exactly what you tried to tell us was going on at Diablo Beach. It’s clear the Chinese were testing the process to initiate a nuclear meltdown at some time in the future. How Charles Lee got involved was unclear until we were contacted by several news organizations about thirty minutes ago. Apparently, he sent them and Southern California Edison a manifesto right before he pushed the final button.”

  Kat straightened. “A manifesto?”

  “Yes. It looks like he wrote this some time ago just in case his role in the attack was discovered. When he saw you and Dillon in the hallway, he must’ve realized we were onto him and decided to go public. In it, he reveals his real name, Charles Yang, and explains his motivation. His grandfather was killed while fighting for the Kuomintang or KMT against the Communists in the Chinese Civil War of the late 1940s. When the Communists took over the mainland and the Republic of China was forced out, the grandmother escaped to Taiwan with Charlie’s father, who was only an infant.”

  “The poor mother,” Kat whispered.

  “They lived under the martial law of Chiang Kai-shek. As an adult, Charlie’s dad became an activist, trying to convince the world to remove the Communists and reinstate the Republic as the rightful government of the mainland. After his dad committed suicide, apparently out of frustration with failing to achieve his goals, Charlie came to the US on a student visa and illegally changed his last name to Lee so he couldn’t be traced back to his activist father. Retaliation against the Communists had been Charlie’s goal for a long time, but he only recently decided America deserved to be punished also. The manifesto accuses the US of being a coward for failing to stand up to China for its human rights atrocities or its cyber attacks.”

  “So, to punish both countries, Charlie wanted to cause a nuclear meltdown that could possibly kill millions of SoCal residents. Then, by leaving evidence pointing the cyber finger at China, he could start World War III,” Dillon said.

  “Pretty much.”

  “Damn lot of lives to sacrifice to avenge his father.”

  “Charlie obviously had some mental issues to consider it reasonable to carry it to that extreme. But never underestimate how important a parent can be to a child.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” Dillon said sullenly.

  Rex hesitated. “Sorry, O’Malley. Didn’t mean to pour salt.”

  “No problem, Boss. Anything else?”

  “Not for now. Alfren, Regis, and Hall are ready to roll as soon as you get the word on Skye. We’ll pray it’s soon.”

  Chapter 27

  Never underestimate how important a parent can be to a child. Kat closed her eyes and let the words sink in. Was Supervisory Special Agent Rex Kelley speaking directly to her?

  Dillon was Skye’s father, and he’d just risked his life to save a daughter he didn’t even know he had. Surely he deserved to know, whether he wanted the child or not. Two years ago, she’d convinced herself otherwise. No, that wasn’t right. Back then, it had never been a question of whether he deserved to know. What he deserved—and wanted—was to live his life pursuing his goal of helping unwanted kids. But now, he’d gone and muddied the waters.

  What kind of man would risk his life for someone else’s child and not want his own? Was there a chance Dillon O’Malley didn’t know his own heart as well as he thought he did? Only one way to find out.

  Kat took a long, deep breath. “Dillon, there’s something you deserve to know.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  She gulped. Damn, was she doing the right thing?

  “Well?” he prompted when she stalled.

  “Skye’s your daughter,” she blurted out.

  He stared blankly at first, and then his expression turned cold. “That’s not funny, Kat. I can’t even imagine why you’d say such a thing.”

  “But…but she is.”

  He slammed his fist on the end table. “I did the math. Nine months plus ten months is far less than two years.”

  “You did the math? Did you want Skye to be yours?”

  “No, of course not. It was just…” He sighed. “Her black hair and blue eyes made me wonder.”

  “I see. And you used ten months in your calculation because that’s how old I said the baby in the picture was.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

  She drew another fortifying breath. “Skye was ten months old at the time. Now she’s sixteen months.”

  Kat watched his eyes as he recalculated, and she knew the instant he realized the truth. But instead of joy at the discovery, his expression went from cold to frigid. He didn’t speak for an eternity as he glared at her.

  “You had my child and didn’t tell me?” he asked, each word spoken slowly and emphatically.

  “Yes.”

  “Because…?”

  His voice vibrated with…what? She wasn’t sure which emotion was dominant. Clearly anger, maybe even rage, was near the top. Disbelief would also be understandable. His eyes added sadness to the mix. She sighed. As always, Dillon was complex.

  “I knew you didn’t want kids of your own. We’d talked about it hundreds of time. I wanted you to be happy, so I just left.”

  “Ran! You ran from the problem. You ran from me.”

  Her own anger started to simmer. “Yes, because I didn’t have time to come up with another plan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  She stared at her hands, which she’d been wringing in her lap, and remembered that awful day. “I did the home pregnancy test the morning of the wedding. I’d missed my last period, but I’d written it off to prewedding stress. Then I threw up a couple mornings and again blamed it on nerves. Besides, I was on the pill, and you always used a condom. So what were the chances?”

  She blinked back tears. “But it kept bothering me. I finally decided I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the wedding and honeymoon until I’d eliminated the possibility. So I bought two kits, but I had them for a week before I found the courage to do it that morning. I just about had a heart attack when the first one came up positive.” She gave a weak chuckle. “When I couldn’t believe the first result, I did the second test. Same plus sign.”

  Dillon hadn’t made a sound as she talked. And he continued to glare at her.

  She inhaled a third long, deep breath. “I started the day lying to myself that it couldn’t possibly be true. Then I changed to pretending it didn’t matter; we’d be fine. But by that afternoon at the church, I knew it would ruin our marriag
e. I realized it’d ruin your life. I couldn’t agree to an abortion so the only way to protect your future—the life you wanted so much—was to disappear and keep the baby a secret.”

  After two minutes of gut-wrenching silence, she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Say something, Dillon. For God’s sake, say something.” She hated that her voice cracked.

  “The idea of raising the baby alone didn’t scare you?”

  “Damn, Dillon. Of course, I was scared. Out-of-my-mind scared.”

  “Why didn’t you put her up for adoption?”

  Her mouth hung open. He didn’t get it. In fact, he had no idea. “Why would I give up the most wonderful gift anyone has ever given me? I look at Skye, and I see a miracle that you and I created.” The thought made her chest swell with the joy that had been hard to cling to during this horrendous night.

  He frowned. “Being a single parent is a burden—or so I’ve heard.”

  She shook her head. “It’s a lot of work, but Skye is not a burden. Every day I get to have a little bit of you in my life. She’s the only reason I’ve been able to survive without you.” Her tears would be denied no longer. They streamed down her cheeks. “I love Skye as much as I loved you.”

  She cringed. Why had she used the past tense? Damn it. Why couldn’t she say she still loved him as much as she had on the day she left? After today, maybe more.

  * * *

  As they stared at each other, the cell phone on the coffee table rang. They both lunged for it.

  Dillon got there first. “You motherfuckers better have Skye ready for us to pick up,” he said, a thinly veiled threat in his tone.

  “You should not have involved your government. The situation has gotten more…complicated,” the Chinese terrorist said icily.

  Kat gasped and gaped at Dillon.

  “What’s a little diplomatic nightmare among…enemies. I understand an anonymous hacker group helped foil your terrorist attack, and it plans to go public with their info even if the US government wimps out,” he said.

  The caller hesitated. “We received a communication from such a group making that idle threat. How did you know—”

  “Did they include a sample of the data they’ve collected on your cyber crime?”

  “No. They have nothing.”

  Dillon knew both answers were lies. “I wonder if information about Chinese computer systems can be gleaned from the group’s data. The US and other governments would be very interested, I’m sure. It could be a profitable venture for this anonymous group.”

  Another pause. “Do you…have any influence over this group?”

  “Possibly.”

  “If we return the child safely, can you convince them not to sell the information?”

  “Probably.”

  “Good, then we’ll consider—”

  His jaw clenched. Time to end this shit. “But only on the conditions that absolutely nothing goes wrong during Skye’s return, all surveillance and harassment of Ms. MacKenzie terminates immediately, and there will be zero repercussions.”

  “Agreed.”

  “If you renege in any way on this deal, you are personally responsible for whatever happens to Chinese government computers in the future.”

  * * *

  “There’s the house. That’s it! That’s it!” Kat yelled. She pointed at one of the brown stucco single-story cookie-cutter residences on the street.

  Dillon pulled the Civic to the curb two doors away and parked. Studying the house, he killed the motor. “Calm down.” He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I know you want to rush in and grab Skye, but we can’t. It could be a trap.”

  “I don’t care if they get me. I need Skye to be safe.” She grabbed the car door handle.

  He yanked her back. “Listen to me, Kat. If this is a trap for you, then Skye is already not safe. We’ll only make things worse by storming in there.”

  “But…but they said we could come get her. Why would they lie?”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “After what they’ve done, you have to ask? At this point, the SOBs are cutting their losses, getting rid of evidence, and wrapping up loose ends. You, me, Skye—we’re loose ends. Don’t you get it? The place could be booby-trapped.”

  Her mind processed the implications, and her teeth chattered so hard that she thought they might crack. This ordeal had been too much. She had reached her limit. Skye. Skye. Skye. Kat could hardly focus on Dillon’s words for the mantra running through her brain. Finally, she managed to nod.

  He blew out an anxious breath. “You good back there, Conrad?”

  “Yeah. But if I don’t get out of here soon, my body will be forever frozen in this contorted position. Let’s move,” he answered from where he was hunched on the floor, crammed into the tiny space between the front and back seats of the Civic.

  “Right.” Dillon surveyed the property as he spoke into his mic. “Arrived at target site. No sign of any activity. Are you hearing anything?”

  Ben and Staci were parked nearby, but out of sight, to monitor the property with an exterior mic and other equipment. Kat swiveled in her seat to see if she could spot their black SUV.

  “Don’t look for them,” Dillon hissed. “I’m damn sure they’re watching us.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No identifiable noise from the property. Small heat source identified in an area approximately thirty feet to the right of the front entrance,” Staci reported in their earpieces.

  Small heat source? Skye? Kat held back a cry.

  “Is it moving?” he asked.

  Staci hesitated. “Negative.”

  Kat heard Dillon gulp.

  “Roger that. Proceeding according to plan,” he said and swung his gaze back to her. “Can you keep it together or should I go in alone?”

  “I’m going in. Don’t even think about leaving me here,” she said through teeth clenched perilously hard to stop their chattering.

  “All right. Let’s do this.”

  He opened the car door, and she followed suit. Her heart pounding with fear, she stood paralyzed beside the car until Dillon grasped her hand.

  “Try to act normal. Our audience could include neighbors. We don’t want to scare anyone,” he whispered, giving her hand a tender squeeze.

  Normal? Is he out of his mind? Surreal was more accurate. Kat felt like she had entered The Twilight Zone. Although the middle-class neighborhood appeared perfectly ordinary, it could all be an illusion. This quiet, peaceful community could harbor deadly kidnappers who might yet manage to kill them.

  Dillon led her down the sidewalk, his head swiveling constantly, on the lookout for any danger. She focused on putting one foot in front of the other without tripping.

  “No threats sighted,” he murmured to the team.

  “Still no sounds or movement,” Staci responded.

  Dillon guided Kat up the walkway toward the front door. She feared her leaden legs would collapse before they got inside, but she reached the door still vertical. They stopped on the front stoop.

  He leaned forward slightly as his gaze traveled around the doorframe multiple times. “No signs of any wires or explosives.” He turned to her and stared directly into her eyes. The blue depths of his were filled with concern. “I can’t guarantee what we’ll find inside. You’re sure you want to come? You can still wait in the car.”

  “Damn right, I’m sure,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound like her own.

  He kissed the back of her hand before he let go of it and gave her a gentle nudge. “Get behind me.”

  She stumbled back a step.

  His hand seemed to move in slow motion, reaching out and turning the knob.

  She held her breath.

  The doorknob turned easily. They both stood statue-still when he paused a moment before pushing the door open a crack.

  Nothing happened.

  A shaky whimper escaped when the air swooshed out of her lungs.

  Even Dillon blew out a relieved sigh.
Then he pulled the infrared goggles from his pants pocket and put them on. His right hand slipped inside his jacket and withdrew the gun from his shoulder holster. He squared his shoulders. “Stay back,” he ordered.

  “Okay.”

  Shoving the door open, he did a complete sweep, looking for booby traps. “No infrared-beam triggers,” he said. Then he stepped inside and swung the gun out in front of him in one fluid movement. His gaze and the gun swiveled as one from side to side.

  Kat’s heart pounded so loudly she barely heard him announce his entrance to the other agents. They responded with new info about the property as he continued to scrutinize everything in sight.

  An eternity passed before he motioned for her to come inside. By then, her shoes felt cemented in place. But once she pried the first one loose, her feet had a mind of their own. She flew into the house and tried to pass Dillon, veering right toward the “small heat source.”

  His arm shot out and he almost clotheslined her. Bouncing back, she sputtered, “D-Dillon.”

  Yanking her against his chest, he wrapped his left arm around her while he aimed the gun ahead of them. “Damn it, Kat. I won’t let you get yourself killed on my watch,” he growled in her ear.

  She panted with frustration and determination. “I need to get Skye!”

  “We’re getting her. But we won’t do Skye any good if we’re both dead.” He covered his mic. “Trust me. I want to get our daughter safely out of here as much as you do.” Two of his words caught in his throat.

  All she could do was nod in response. Her chest ached from the beating her heart was giving it.

  With the goggles still on, Dillon did another survey of the living room and dining area. His gun remained raised and ready. Finally, he pushed her behind him again and stepped carefully toward the hallway entrance on the right side of the room.

  Each step seemed to take forever, but Kat forced herself to cooperate. He was right. Two dead parents wouldn’t do Skye any good at all. But her need as a mother to see her child, to confirm her baby was unharmed, was almost unbearable.