Watching From The Shadows: Trident Security Book 5

by Samantha A. Cole

  They had merged onto a highway with three lanes going eastbound. “Give him some room, but not too much. Let’s see what he does. In the meantime, get the license plate to Egghead.”

  “Done already. I’ve got him on my phone and you on Foster’s.”

  “Good. Then stay on the line with both of us.” After a few minutes, he was starting to think they were wrong about the vehicle when it made a sudden lane change to the right and accelerated quickly. Marco scanned what was ahead and to the side of him, taking it all in and making a fast lane change himself, to the left, just as the Impala caught up to them. Behind them, Foster was trying to get between the two vehicles, but traffic wasn’t making it easy for him.

  “Oh, my God!”

  Trying to keep one eye on the road and the other on the Impala, Marco resisted the urge to look at Harper who was staring out her window at the other driver. “What?”

  “It’s Ramon Nunez. I helped his wife disappear about six months ago. He’s got a history with guns, assault, and a bunch of other stuff. Last I heard, he was still in jail for assaulting a neighbor.”

  “Shit.” He swerved around another vehicle and punched the gas pedal. “McCabe pass that onto Egghead, then hang up with him and call 911. We need backup fast. Identify yourself as Trident and ask for the on-duty supervisor. Let me know when you have him on the line. We’re going to have to coordinate a blockade. There are too many other cars around for us to run this guy off the road.” He pulled his gun from its holster, flipped off the safety, and placed it in a specially made pocket attached the dashboard next to the radio. This way he still had both hands free for the steering wheel, but if he had to shoot, the weapon could easily be drawn and ready to fire. And he also didn’t have to worry about it falling out of reach if the driving got crazy. “Harper, climb in the backseat and lay on the floor. If this guy starts shooting, I don’t want you visible. Keep your head down unless I tell you otherwise.”

  Kicking off her heels, Harper did as he’d ordered. Traffic was opening up and he continued weaving between lanes, staying ahead of the suspect’s vehicle. Foster was still on the guy’s tail, but resisted the urge to ram the guy off the road. They couldn’t take the risk since it could result in innocent drivers, or their passengers, getting hurt. They didn’t have to worry about the Impala trying to ram Marco’s truck because the car would definitely lose that fight.

  When McCabe informed Marco he had the desk sergeant on the line, he took note of where they were on the highway. He then estimated where they would be when the patrol units were given enough time to set up a road block. Picking an exit ramp he knew wasn’t heavily used, since it led to a partially-abandoned industrial area, he had McCabe relay the information. They’d be there in about five or six minutes. Hopefully, that was plenty of time for units to arrive and prepare to intercept. If not, then they would have to try again somewhere else.

  Things got hairy a few times when Nunez tried to ride the shoulder to get next to them. But the asshole didn’t have the ‘oh shit’ driving experience that both the former SEAL and Secret Service agent had and couldn’t keep up. When they were about a half mile from where he hoped the cops were set up, Marco gave Foster a head’s up. “All right. It’s the next exit coming up. Ride his driver’s side and force him down the ramp. As soon as you’re sure he’s committed, slam on your brakes. After I pass them, the cops should be throwing the spike strip.”

  Marco had actually done a similar scenario about two years ago when Brody and he had been chasing a guy on the U.S. government terrorist watch list. They’d spotted him after the geek had picked Marco up at the airport. It had been sheer coincidence they saw and recognized the member of al Qaeda from the alerts they got from Uncle Sam on a regular basis. Surprisingly, the takedown had gone without a hitch and he prayed this one had the same results.

  Making it obvious he was taking the exit by slowing down a little and putting on his blinker, he hoped the idiot didn’t realize it was a trap until it was too late. Hitting the ramp at about thirty miles an hour over the suggested speed limit, he was thrilled to see their backup had arrived and were all set. As soon as he passed the cop partially hidden by brush, the man stepped forward and threw the spike strip, designed to blow the suspect’s tires, across the road. Marco skirted one of the patrol cars blocking the bottom of the ramp and slammed on the brakes. Just as he expected the hole between the patrol cars closed up behind him.

  “Harper, stay down until I come back for you.”

  Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed his weapon and bounded from the vehicle. In the seconds it took for all that to happen, Nunez’s car had run over the spikes, blowing the tires, and the jackass lost control, slamming into the high curb, disabling the vehicle. Amidst the smoke, the cops were shouting at the suspect to show his hands, while their guns were trained on their target. Marco spotted McCabe and Foster high up on the ramp where another patrol unit had pulled in behind them. Both men were staying back, letting the cops do their thing, but remaining alert in case they were needed.

  One of the units on the scene was a K9 and its handler. The dog was barking and lunging against his restraint, dying to get at the suspect, who still wasn’t obeying the orders to exit the vehicle. If Nunez wanted to be stupid, then the dog would be released. Marco really wished Nunez decided to be stupid. His hopes were dashed, though, when the driver’s door finally opened and the man stuck his hands in the air. The nearest cop holstered his weapon, confident the others had his back, and yanked Nunez out of the driver’s seat until he was face down on the ground. Once the suspect was cuffed, Marco fought the urge to interfere by kicking the guy’s ass and, instead, turned back to his truck and opened the rear driver’s side door. “Harper, you can get out. Are you okay?”

  Instead of getting out or answering him, she stared into space, wide-eyed and breathing rapidly. Too rapidly. Oh, shit. He forgot all about her panic attacks. He’d only seen her have one once, many years ago, and it was just as scary now as it was back then. Kneeling outside the door, he took her hand and rubbed her arm, being careful not to crowd her. “Sweetheart, take it easy. Slow, deep breaths, baby. Come on. You can do it.”

  “Is she all right?”

  Marco glanced over his shoulder and found one of the cops had come to check on them. “Panic attack. Do you have any paper bags in your car?”

  “Yeah, in the evidence kit. Hang on.”

  The uniformed officer hurried to his nearby car, as Marco tried to get Harper to calm down. “Easy, baby. It’s going to be fine. Take some deep breaths.”

  A few moments later, a brown lunch bag was thrust into his hand, already opened, and he brought it up to her mouth. “Come on, sweetheart. Breathe into the bag. You’re going to be fine. Nothing is going to happen to you on my watch.”

  It took a few rounds of coaxing, but, finally, she seemed to comprehend him and grabbed the bag from his hand, trying desperately to take slow deep breaths. After about two or three minutes, the excessive amounts of oxygen in her system from the rapid breathing were replaced by the minimal amount of carbon dioxide needed by her blood. Her color began to return to normal and she pulled the bag from her mouth, taking a few gulps of fresh air while swiping at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “I-I’m s-sorry. I don’t…don’t know w-what happened.”

  “Shhh. It’s fine, baby. It’s all over and you’re okay. I’m sorry. I should have checked on you sooner.” He stood and held out his hand. “Do you want to get out or stay in there?”

  “O-out, please.”

  On shaky legs, she exited the vehicle and he held her close until she could stand on her own. Foster, who was the only one still wearing his tie, and McCabe joined them, laughing at something. When he raised an eyebrow at them, McCabe shook his head, trying to get his words out between his chuckles. “Funniest fucking thing I ever saw. The dog’s been on official patrol for only a week now. After he calmed down, the handler relaxed the leash. Damn dog took a few steps forward, lifted a l
eg, and peed on fucking Nunez. It was fucking classic.”

  Marco snorted before he threw his head back and chortled. Despite still recovering from her panic attack, Harper began giggling, as well. Soon they were all laughing so hard, more tears had to be wiped away.

  When she got herself back under control, Harper turned to him. “Does this mean it’s over? I mean, with his history, I’m sure the bail will be high, if he isn’t held without it.”

  “I don’t know, baby. First things first. They’ll take him in and book him. Murdock will have to go through procedure to interview him since this arrest is out of his jurisdiction. Once we’re clear here, I’ll take you back to the compound, and then I’m sure Ian will get us permission to watch the interview.”

  Speaking of his boss, the man screeched his SUV to a halt next to Marco’s truck and jumped from the driver’s seat. Just as fast, Devon exited the passenger seat as Boomer and Brody arrived in the geek’s pickup truck. It was obvious the incident had freaked them out as much as it had him. Ian was the first to reach them. “Is everyone okay?”

  Marco nodded, still not leaving Harper’s side. “Yeah. We’re good. But I think we’re going to have to come up with a name for this takedown since this is twice it went like clockwork. Although this one had a funnier ending thanks to the canine unit.”

  The newcomers stared at him in confusion, then burst out laughing when McCabe explained it to them before adding, “Think we can get Kat to train Beau to do that?”

  “You fucking cunt! Where the fuck is my wife?”

  Nunez’s bellows, as he was being led to the back of a patrol car about a hundred feet away, caught everyone’s attention, but none more than Marco’s. “That son of a bitch.”

  With clenched fists, he growled and took a step forward, but his teammates quickly closed ranks around Harper and him, stopping him in his tracks. Ian spoke to him in a low voice, full of warning. “Chill, Polo. There are cameras everywhere.”

  What he hadn’t noticed, until it was pointed out to him, was that the police activity had attracted the usual looky-loos, many of whom had their cell phones out, filming everything. Behind him, Foster took hold of Harper’s arm and helped her into the backseat of the truck once more, closing the door after she was in. Marco was glad the man instinctively knew to get her out of sight.

  The on-scene sergeant came over to the group and shook a few hands, having dealt with the team on numerous occasions. “I’m going to need whoever was in the two vehicles to come down to the station for statements.”

  “Can you send someone to our office for Ms. Williams’ statement?” Ian asked, taking charge, as usual. “Her mother and daughter are there under our protection. Until we know for certain they’re out of danger, I’d prefer to keep them all together at the compound.”

  “Sure, I think we can arrange that. I was told a detective from Clearwater wants to talk to this guy about the bombing attempt the other day and a home invasion.”

  Ian nodded. “Yeah, Drew Murdock. I notified him as soon as I heard the tail was someone Harper recognized. We’ll be meeting him at the station. Polo, why don’t you ride with me. Dev, Boomer, and Egghead can take Harper back to the compound. Foster. McCabe. Follow us, so you can give your statements.”

  “Wait.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, Marco saw that Harper had rolled down her window a little and had been monitoring the conversation. He stepped closer to the truck. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

  She must have hit the button on the door because the glass lowered a few more inches. “I have to go to my office— “

  “Absolutely not. You’re— “

  “It’s important, Marco. I have to activate the alert system for Friends of Patty. I know it’s highly unlikely Ramon knows where his wife is, but I have to let the contacts know what happened, so they can send the alert down the line. If they need to move her, they need as much warning as they can get.”

  He shoved a hand through his hair in exasperation. While he loved that the woman was strong-willed and stood up for herself and others, it did make him nuts at times. “Can’t you do that from the compound?”

  “No. If the alert doesn’t come from my computer’s IP address, they’ll think I was hacked. It’s an encrypted program.”

  Brody, who’d been listening to the two bicker, leaned in. “I can get you into your system, Harper, and make it look like you’re on at the office. It’s easy enough to do if you know what you’re doing—which, of course, I do.”

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re too freaking humble?” she asked with a sigh.

  The geek grinned, making his dimples stand out. “All the time, darlin’. All the damn time.” Slapping his best friend on the back, he opened the driver’s door to Marco’s truck and climbed in. “Your woman is in good hands. See you later.”

  Brody pulled away as soon as Devon and Boomer were in position to follow while Marco watched them drive up the entrance ramp to the highway. His woman. He liked the sound of that.

  CHAPTER 18

  With Ian at his side, Marco stared at Nunez through the one-way mirror. The asshole was cooling his heels in the interrogation room, and Murdock was intentionally drawing out the wait. It was all part of Interrogation 101—make them sweat awhile. A nervous suspect was a chatty one. While he understood the tactic, the delay was driving Marco bat-shit crazy.

  One of the arresting uniformed officers was standing stoically in the room with Nunez, who was sitting at the table drumming his fingers. Foster and McCabe were out in the detective bureau, giving their statements for the record. Marco had already given his and a detective had been dispatched to the compound for Harper’s statement.

  The door to the observation room opened and Murdock and a TPD detective entered. The tall black man, in a tailor-made suit, wasn’t someone the Trident team had worked with before and he stuck his hand out to both of them as he introduced himself. “Isaac Webb. I’ve heard a lot about Trident. Nice to meet you, but I wish it was under better circumstances.”

  “Ian Sawyer. This is Marco DeAngelis, and we wish it was under better circumstances as well.”

  After his boss shook the man’s hand, Marco followed suit. “I appreciate you letting us watch the interrogation.”

  Leaning his hip on the only desk in the small room, Webb nodded. “No problem. Murdock here told me what’s been happening, but I wanted to fill you in on what we found before we go in there.” He handed Ian the manila file he’d been carrying. “Nunez knew your bomber. Or, at least, we believe he did.”

  “What?” Marco hadn’t been expecting that bit of info, and it was obvious from his surprised expression Ian hadn’t either. “How?”

  Webb pointed toward the file Ian had opened and was now scanning. “They were in Zephyrhills Correctional at the same time four years ago. Same cell block for about three months.”

  “Fuck! He’s got to be the one who hired Rodgers.”

  “Easy, Polo.” Boss-man was still flipping through the new information in his hands. “I’m not too sure about that.”

  “What? Why? He obviously blames Harper for his wife going missing—”

  “Exactly.” Ian glanced at Webb and Murdock, who both nodded in silent agreement, clearly understanding the other man’s line of reasoning. “Yes, he blames Harper, but why kill the one person he believes knows where his wife is? Think about it. If Nunez was the one in Harper’s house the night she was attacked, why knock her out and run? Why not threaten her to reveal where his wife is?”

  Fuck! He’d been hoping they had the right guy, but Ian was making sense—especially if they added in the rose and note on his truck, and the phone issues and letter by messenger over a year ago. If Nunez wanted to know how to find his wife, he wouldn’t get rid of the one person he thought could lead him to her. Marco ran an irritated hand through his hair before letting out a deep breath to calm himself. He was letting his anger rule his thinking and it was never a wise thing to do. “Damn it. All
right, let’s find out what he fucking knows.”

  Murdock and Webb left the observation room and moments later entered the interrogation room. From behind the mirror Ian and Marco watched the men play good cop and bad cop. Unfortunately, it didn’t take long to realize Nunez had nothing to do with the assault and bombing attempt. While the man’s hatred for Harper was clear, his body language, confused responses, and adamant denials of guilt had everyone believing he had no idea what they were talking about in reference to the attempts on her life. There had been no signs of even the slightest recognition of Rodgers when Nunez was shown the other prisoner’s mug shot from four years ago. After close to an hour of questioning, it was evident that, once again, they were back to where they started—with no suspects.

  The two detectives rejoined them in the observation room, while the uniformed officer took Nunez downstairs to a jail cell. Webb crossed his arms and addressed Marco. “Sorry, but as you saw, I doubt he’s your man for the bomb and home invasion. He’s a lousy liar—you could tell when he answered the questions about the gun and drugs.” When the cops on scene did an inventory of the car before it was towed, they’d found a 9mm under the front seat and some crack in the glove compartment. “The good news is, we have enough to hold him on for parole violations. By the way, my captain said to thank you for waiting for the backup, instead of taking Nunez on yourselves since he’s already having a shit day. Although, I have no doubt it actually saved the bastard’s life, since, from what I’ve heard, I shouldn’t bet against you guys any day of the week. Anyway, with his history, the bail will probably be too high for the asshole to come up with it, if the judge doesn’t just deny it in the first place. I’ll give you a ring after his arraignment and let you know his status.”

  Marco shook his hand. “I appreciate it, thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  As Webb returned to his desk in the detective bureau, Murdock walked with Marco and Ian out to the lobby, where McCabe and Foster were waiting for them. When Cain saw them, he lifted his hands questioningly. “Anything?”