Tough Justice: Countdown Box Set

by Carla Cassidy

“It won’t.” It can’t. Not again. Her mind flew to how her emotions had driven her actions when she was facing off against Moretti the previous year. She’d learned a lot since then. The job was bigger than her. That’s why so many police and FBI agents sacrifice themselves to save civilians. It’s not about me. No matter how much anyone else wants it to be.

  “James, can you be sure to have the techs print the magazines, shelves, anything he could have touched when he came in?” she asked.

  “You think maybe someone was in here when he got here?” His gaze also rested on the path between the door and the counter.

  “I don’t know. I hope not, because if he thinks anyone can identify him...well, this is what happens. Let’s just keep it to ourselves, okay?”

  “Sure, boss.” James went to talk to the forensics coordinator leaving Lara about to say that she wasn’t his boss.

  She shook her head. Pick your battles. Something niggled at her, though. She flipped her phone off the clip on her belt and dialed Christina. She picked up immediately.

  “Christina, it’s Lara.”

  “Xander isn’t here yet, but I’ve cleared the decks and found a ridiculously old video tape player in the basement. I’m ready to go as soon as he gets here.”

  “Awesome. There’s something else I’d just like you to check for me. My mother’s murder. Can you look at the police database, and ours, and just make sure no one unauthorized has had access? That it hasn’t been hacked. Just for my piece of mind.”

  There was a silence, and then, “Sure. It’s just...after Moretti, I put an alert on every file connected to us—and you—to alert me to someone looking at the files. The only alerts I’ve had were under Victoria’s name, and I’m guessing the investigators looking into the Oscar Mackworth case are using her ID to check her computer trail. You know, to check all her cases to look for other...” She trailed off.

  She meant other miscarriages of justice. Other faking of evidence. Lara appreciated that she hadn’t actually said the words.

  “That’s great work. Thank you. I feel better now.”

  “I aim to please—Oh, wait. Xander just texted that he’s here. I need to go get on the traffic—”

  “Go! Call me as soon as you’re done.” Lara’s heart rate kicked up a notch as she contemplated finding the bastard who was putting the whole city through the ringer. She hung up and looked at her watch. They were running out of time to save Ben.

  * * *

  The team had vacated the 24/7 convenience store to allow Dr. Sanders, the medical examiner and forensics to do their thing. After promising the Sandman another bottle of Scotch, she knew the results would be rushed.

  As the countdown clock ticked down, the team waited, impatiently, in their vehicles for word that Christina had found something—anything—that would point them even in the right district. Hell, she’d take the right country right now.

  Christina buzzed through the conference line. “I’m going to give this to you play by play. It’ll be quicker to point you in the right direction. Right now he’s taking the Brooklyn Queens Expressway toward Manhattan. I’ve pieced together traffic footage, it’s just taking time, because I have to check multiple cameras each time one camera loses him. By the time you get to that intersection, I should have your next move for you.”

  Lara switched on her flashing lights and did a U-turn. The two other identical vehicles peeled out behind her, and they were on their way. Twenty-five minutes until detonation. Lara’s hands whitened around the steering wheel.

  Five minutes later, Nick had put the bomb squad on notice. They also started rolling in the same direction.

  Lara could hear everyone through the conference line. There was no chitchat, no fidgeting.

  As usual, it was Xander who cracked the tension from Christina’s office. “This is like the worst movie ever.”

  There was silence on the line until James cracked at his partner’s joke. “Worse than Battleship?”

  Lara stifled a laugh. “I loved Battleship. Now you’ve hurt my feelings.” She pulled off to the side of the road at the intersection Christina had mentioned before. “We’re here, Christina.”

  Silence fell again. “He looks like he’s taking it straight toward Brooklyn Bridge. I need to skip ahead to see if he peels off into Williamsburg, or takes the bridge,” she said.

  They complied. Eighteen minutes.

  “Okay, okay, I took a guess on his direction, and I’m already... Hold on. Yup. He’s heading south on FDR.”

  Second passed as the tension ramped up in their car. Lara slowed down, and Nick checked his side mirror. “Bomb Squad has just fallen in behind us. God, let’s hope we need them.”

  Lara silently agreed. If this was a wild goose chase, they’d lost Ben. Which was a tragedy, but also, so far, he was the only person who had actually seen the Whisperer.

  “Oh, God,” Christina said. She took a loud breath. “He’s stopped at the entrance of... Wait, I need a different program.”

  “Which entrance?” Lara asked, trying hard not to shout.

  Nick groaned. “I’m placing my bet on this one.” He pointed at a recessed gate, which they both knew only too well led to the warehouse complex where Lara and Moretti had their final showdown the previous year. “Don’t place too much importance on this, Lara,” Nick said, placing a calming hand on her arm. “All it means is that the Whisperer can read a newspaper. Don’t go imbuing him with special powers or anything.”

  “Right.” She couldn’t even bring herself to argue, or agree. She didn’t want to think about it until they were off the clock. “Fourteen minutes.”

  “The warehouse security feed has him in front of the Moretti warehouse early this morning. I’ll keep checking to see where he went after that.”

  They parked away from the warehouse and ran toward the building. Goose bumps erupted on Lara’s arms at the thought of another death in this place.

  The bomb squad drew their vehicles right up to the door of the warehouse. They wouldn’t go through the door. It was too obvious a place for a booby trap. The armored vehicles would also provide protection should the bomb go off.

  The team watched as the guys climbed into their protective gear.

  Lara looked at her watch again. “Twelve minutes,” she said.

  Then the lead squad member took a phone call.

  “They don’t have time for freaking phone calls,” Ty said, barely containing his rage.

  Then the lead threw his phone into the truck, and yelled something at the rest of his team.

  Lara inched closer so she could see what had happened.

  The team stopped getting dressed and just stood as if they didn’t know what to do.

  Nick’s phone rang. “Delano,” he barked. “What the hell? No way. No way. No sir. Sir. That’s not what we do.” He opened his mouth as if to say something else, said half of a word, and then hung up. He jogged over to the bomb squad, the rest of the CMU in his wake.

  The lead bomb squad guy’s uniform said his name was Lieutenant Davis. “We’ve been stood down. Your boss is worried someone might get hurt.”

  “I got that. I’m prepared to take the rap if you are.”

  “I don’t care. But you know—let’s actually check there’s a bomb inside first.”

  Nick nodded. “Can you do it quickly, because we’re on a deadline.”

  Lara already had Christina on speakerphone. “We’ve got five minutes and thirty-five seconds. Thirty-three...”

  “Holy crap. We don’t even have time for McAdam, our robot.” He stared at the door.

  “There are windows next to the stairwells,” Lara said, dredging a memory she’d tried for a year to suppress. “Wait here.” She sprinted off around the corner of the building. It was longer than she remembered. The window she recalle
d was grimy with salt, grease and years and years of nobody cleaning it. She pulled her shirtsleeve over the heel of her hand and wiped away some of the dirt.

  She reeled at the sight. Ben’s back was to her, he’d fallen over in his chair, and the cell phones were still flashing at him. He was motionless. She had no idea if he was alive or not. She yelled out. “He’s there. He’s there.” She took a photo on her phone and then sprinted back to the group.

  She took a breath when she reached them. “He’s facing the door, but he’s fallen over, lying on his side.” She closed her eyes to remember the scene. “There doesn’t seem to be anything attached to the doorway—that I could see anyway—but about thirty cell phones are still flashing at him. Look.” She showed them the photo she’d taken.

  Davis nodded, and rounded up his team. “Time check?” he asked.

  “Three minutes, five seconds,” Christina said from Lara’s phone.

  “We’re going in the side wall. Bring the snatch and grab, Sy,” he said. The snatch and grab was a projectile that could be fired through a wall from a launch, then its arms extended, and the launch snatched the projectile back so that a part of the wall was pulled out.

  “You guys. Stay behind the vehicles.”

  None of the CMU moved.

  “As you like. I wouldn’t want to be you by the time this is over,” Davis said to Nick.

  Nick shrugged. “I don’t want to be me most of the time, either.”

  Ty and Jennifer stood together watching the bomb squad do their work. James stood next to Lara and Nick.

  Every single one had clenched fists.

  “Two minutes, guys,” Christina said.

  No one replied.

  The snatch and grab pulled a center section of the warehouse door out with a loud crack that made the whole team jump. The bomb squad ran in through the hole. Someone shouted, then there was silence.

  The voice shouted again and five bomb squad guys backed out again, and pressed themselves behind the armored vehicle.

  “What is it? What happened?” Lara asked.

  “The boss ordered us out.”

  “What?” Ty shouted.

  “The detonator is tricky. Only one person can work on it. He didn’t want us standing around and getting all blown up for no good reason.” The guy didn’t look convinced, and neither was Lara.

  “Shit,” she said under her breath.

  “That about covers it, ma’am.” The officer ushered them behind the truck.

  “He can do this,” Nick said, instilling a thread of confidence in all of them. “This is his job. He can save Ben. And Ben will help identify who kidnapped him. This is our lead. Have faith, people. I can feel it.”

  Lara hoped he was right.

  She stared unseeing at the warehouse opposite. He better be right, or all this would have been for nothing. For a life they couldn’t save? A perp who was just too smart for them? She clenched her fists.

  Silence fell.

  Every cell of her body was waiting for the explosion. The boom that would knock them off their feet and claim the lives of an innocent, and a law enforcement officer.

  She took a breath. Then another, and held it.

  Tension plucked at the cold air around them. The six of them who had tried all day to find Ben were standing hopelessly, waiting for something out of their control.

  She looked at Nick. A line creased his forehead as he clenched his jaw. She would never forgive herself if they lost Ben. She would also never forgive the Whisperer. She would get him. Or die trying. She would...

  “Eight seconds,” Christina said.

  Lara closed her eyes...

  * * * * *

  This can’t be happening. They were so close. They found Benjamin. But that doesn’t seem to be enough. The timer is still counting down. What the hell else are they supposed to do?

  This is going to be the longest eight seconds of Lara’s life...

  TOUGH JUSTICE:

  COUNTDOWN

  (Part 5 of 8)

  Janie Crouch

  The hunter becomes the hunted

  With just seconds to spare, Special Agent Lara Grant and the team manage to rescue a hostage. Victory! Thanks to this eyewitness, they now know the killer’s name, and might even have a lead on his next target. But not even the FBI’s best can protect everyone from the deadliest, and most dedicated, criminal. And when the entire CMU comes under attack, it’ll take a desperate act to keep the team together. Lara puts her own secrets—and her own life—on the line in an attempt to lure the bomber out of hiding and into the open...once and for all.

  Part 5 of 8: an explosive new installment in the thrilling FBI serial from New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy and Tyler Anne Snell, Emmy Curtis and Janie Crouch.

  This episode is dedicated to Susan Litman and the wonderful team of editors involved with the Tough Justice: Countdown project. Thank you for allowing me to be involved.

  Contents

  Episode Five

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Episode Five

  The Crisis Management Unit finally tracked down Benjamin Johnson’s location, and they had the bomb squad on site immediately. But with only eight seconds left to go on the bomb strapped to Johnson’s chest, all the team can do is wait and hope and pray…

  Chapter One

  Eight seconds wasn’t a very long time unless you were riding a damn bull.

  “Step back, everybody,” Nick told the team. There was no point in endangering more people than necessary. And he had no idea how the bomb squad leader was doing anything, much less trying to diffuse a bomb, with those flashing strobe lights. They were going off at the rate of three or four per second.

  Like the damn paparazzi.

  The entire point for Selfie Guy, Nick was sure. Benjamin Johnson would probably never take another selfie for as long as he lived.

  Which would be about three more seconds.

  But instead of the earsplitting explosion they’d expected, it was the leader of the bomb squad—the man who had ordered everyone out and risked his own life—who spoke.

  “Clear!”

  Nobody moved for just a second, unable to believe they’d gotten so damn lucky.

  “That’s right, you heard me, you bastards. Clear!” the man yelled again. “Now someone please write an epic poem about how fucking awesome I am.”

  The bomb squad came out from behind the truck, hooting and hollering. Hugging and high-fiving each other. Evidently none of them thought the team leader would be successful either.

  Lara caught Nick’s eye, shaking her head at the same time. They’d gotten a break. For what seemed like the first time they’d gotten a break in this damn case.

  “Hey, nobody go in there,” Nick called out in case the squad decided to go carry their boss out on their shoulders or something and ruin the crime scene. He grabbed one of the men. “What’s your team leader’s first name? The guy in there that I was talking to earlier?”

  “Chandler.”

  Lieutenant Davis walked out of the warehouse, his team slapping him on the shoulder, a few bowing in reverence. He made his way directly to Nick and Lara.

  It was only close up that they could see the pallor of his face and sweat dripping down his temples. Chandler Davis had been well aware of how close to death he’d been.

  “Close one there, Lieutenant.” Nick g
ave him a respectful dip of the head. “Thank you.”

  Davis gave a brief nod.

  Lara slapped him on his well-padded shoulder that still wouldn’t have saved his life if that bomb had gone off. “Came down to between cutting either the red or blue wire, right?”

  Davis chuckled, rolling his eyes. “As always. Lucky guess on my part. Had a fifty-fifty chance.”

  Nick was sure luck had very little to do with what Davis had just pulled off.

  “Keep your guys back and let us take over from here, Chandler,” Nick said to Davis. “We want to preserve the scene as best we can.”

  Davis nodded and headed over to his team.

  Lara gestured to some paramedics. “You guys come with us.”

  They rushed inside the building to Benjamin Johnson. He was conscious, but barely.

  “Please,” he moaned. “Please turn them off.”

  The flashing lights. Nick didn’t blame him. But they couldn’t turn them off until the forensics team did their work.

  “We’ve got an ambulance outside,” Lara told him. “Let’s get you into that.”

  She cut through the zip ties that held the man’s arms, wrists, legs and chest to the chair. Dried blood matted his skin and clothing from where Johnson had struggled against his bonds. When he was free, she and Nick helped him stand.

  He almost instantly collapsed.

  “Whoa there,” Nick said, taking most of Johnson’s weight. The smell of body odor and urine overwhelmed both him and Lara. But nothing much could be done about it. It was difficult to tell how harmed Johnson had been by the bomber. But at least he seemed somewhat coherent. Not brain damaged. Able to answer questions.

  Hopefully able to identify the man who had done this to him.

  The paramedics moved over with the gurney. They took Johnson from Lara and Nick and helped him onto it, one of them taking vitals the whole time.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Lara asked.

  “The doctors will have to say for sure, but it looks to me like he will be.” The young woman nodded. “His blood pressure is extremely high, which is probably to be expected. He looks to be dehydrated. But nothing life-threatening.”