Tough Justice: Countdown Box Set

by Carla Cassidy

  “What is she—” James started. He was interrupted by Lara.

  “Why is it so important for you to know everything about me?” she asked, still staring straight at her web camera. “Why do you even care about my father’s alcoholism or his death? Or even the fact that I thought he killed my mom and it destroyed us? Why do you care? Is it because you didn’t have your own father to help create your own personal family brand of misery and so need to leech off mine?”

  “What the—” James said. Again he was interrupted. This time by a voice they hadn’t expected.

  “Don’t be mad just because I connected the dots of your mother’s case when you couldn’t,” Harlen said, gleefully. “You’d think you’d be grateful.”

  Lara was snarling. She didn’t immediately respond.

  “Is this a live feed going to Harlen?” Nick found himself whispering.

  “Yes.” Christina looked over her shoulder at him with an expression he’d never forget. “And it looks like it’s been going on for several hours.”

  Nick didn’t have time to unleash his profanity. Lara responded.

  “I think the only reason you did all of this was because you needed to force someone to sit down and talk to you,” she said, bitingly cold. “I guess friends are hard to come by when you are a rock star with technology but not even a roadie when it comes to social skills.” She moved her head a little, as if to motion to the camera. “Case in point.”

  “Careful, Lara,” Ty mumbled. “This guy isn’t fun when he’s angry.”

  “If she’s really been talking to him for hours,” Jennifer said. “Then she might be giving up on playing politically correct with him.”

  Nick agreed with that testament. He could see it in Lara’s expression. In how she held herself. She was pushing his buttons.

  But why was she just sitting there and listening to him? Why hadn’t she contacted them earlier? Why had she left the office at all without talking to them?

  All of those answers, or at least some of them, were answered less than a second after Nick thought it. He might not have been able to see Harlen, but he knew he was pissed.

  “I figured you might want some company,” he bit back. “Seeing as how I can move and you can’t I thought it was only the polite thing to do to keep up our little chat.”

  “Why can’t she move?” Nick asked at the same time Lara responded with a snort.

  “Let’s be honest,” she said. “You had to put a bomb under my chair just so I wouldn’t leave you. Sounds like a bad case of abandonment issues right there.”

  The tech room erupted into anger, fear and plans of action, triggered by the one syllable word that no one wanted to hear.

  However, the moment Nick realized how much danger Lara was really in, he was already running for the door.

  * * *

  It seemed Lara wasn’t the only one sweating. After her jabs to Halpert about being a loner and a volley of back-and-forths in the minutes after, he finally looked just as wrung out as she was. He had been sitting just as long as she had been. He had to be tired.

  Considering it was almost noon, Lara didn’t expect their prolonged conversation would stretch any further. The deadline was fast approaching, at 2:30 p.m., and she fully expected him to give her a choice when it finally got down to it. Lara only hoped that the team had found and evacuated the bomb site.

  “While you’re more snarky than I thought you’d be, I’m glad we had this chat, Agent Grant,” he said after she threw another insult insinuating his loner tendencies perhaps weren’t on purpose.

  “I wished you’d just called instead,” she sneered.

  For the first time since Lara had seen his face appear on screen, Halpert surprised her by standing up. For a moment she was looking at his stomach. Despite hours of being with him, her adrenaline soared high once again. Why was he standing?

  Was this it?

  Was it time for him to bottom-line it?

  The sound of him yawning filled her apartment. It sounded odd in the silence, but not as odd as a distant tapping that cut through it. Looking up and past her laptop’s screen her eyes readjusted to a figure standing outside the window opposite her, looking in from their spot on the fire escape.

  Lara was so relieved and surprised that she almost said his name out loud.

  Nick!

  Eyes wide, brow pulled in from worry, and a mouth moving furiously, he was arguing on the phone with someone but keeping eye contact with her.

  Mercer. He had to be talking to Mercer.

  Lara was just happy her team knew where she was. Nick had understood her message.

  “I think it’s time to end this. I was starting to get a crick.”

  Lara returned her gaze to the webcam as Halpert finished off a stretch and sat back down. While she knew she should feel tired, her adrenaline had her heartbeat racing again. Her eyes wide. Her mind alert.

  So much so that she realized Nick’s arguing might be a little too loud. She coughed a few times, hoping to cover the escalation in noise.

  And also warn Nick that he was at a dangerous volume. The last thing they needed was to alert Halpert that something was off with his plan. That she had been found.

  “What do you mean? End this? There’s still time left on the clock.” Lara asked, trying to stretch out the conversation. Even though she wanted nothing more than for it to finally end.

  Halpert laughed.

  “I lied, Agent Grant,” he said. “It’s almost twelve. I love bombs going off at twelve. And do you know what that means?”

  “That we can break for lunch?”

  Halpert snorted. “There’s that sarcasm again,” he said. “Some would call that a defense mechanism.”

  Lara’s attention split between Halpert’s banter and Nick arguing outside. She could still hear him but he’d quieted enough that Halpert didn’t seem to be able to.

  “And some people don’t have the right to even attempt to judge others,” she responded a second later. She kept her gaze firmly on the screen and not her partner on the fire escape.

  Halpert was done laughing. His humor seemed to drain from his expression. Lara’s stomach twisted in uncertainty. He couldn’t hear Nick but could he hear how hard her heart was slamming against her rib cage?

  “Well, now it’s time to get to business, Lara,” he started, pointing to the top right of her screen. It was 11:58 a.m. A fresh wave of sweat began to ooze across her skin. Even her breathing had quickened. “You said giving options was my thing and you’re right. So, here it goes. The last set of choices I ask you to pick from.”

  He moved closer to his camera so that his face was all she could see.

  Oh, how she wished she could punch it.

  “Your choice: the clues to unearthing your mother’s murderer once and for all, or the detonation of a bomb in a very public place. And, before you answer, maybe it’s time I tell you a little secret of my own. One that not even your team has figured out yet.”

  The world around her seemed to disappear. Now all there was was the two of them.

  And Halpert looked as pleased as punch.

  * * *

  “Just hang up on him,” James whispered. He stood behind Nick on the fire escape just as angry as Nick was. Which was nothing compared to Mercer on the phone.

  “If we cut the feed now—” Nick tried.

  “Nothing will happen,” Mercer interrupted. “I’ve just been notified the bomb at the school was defused. There’s no danger now. We are the FBI and not some fucking pawns in some fucking demented kid’s game. We aren’t playing anymore. I’m taking us out!”

  Their joint call with Nick, Mercer, his own tech analyst and the rest of the CMU team turned into a tidal wave of sound as everyone objected to his order. However, someone didn’t.


  Nick saw Lara’s expression change so suddenly to confusion that he knew what had happened.

  Mercer had forced the live feed to be cut.

  James started swearing and Nick wouldn’t have been far behind had Lara not whipped her head up to meet his gaze.

  Her confusion had already burned out. In its place was pure rage.

  “What have you done?” she yelled at him. Before Nick could even react, Lara changed the entire game.

  “There’s a second bomb,” she yelled. “And now he’s going to detonate it!”

  * * * * *

  Lara is safe—but they have no idea where that bomb is! Halpert also got away with those files on her mother’s case, the evidence she so desperately wants. She’ll risk almost anything to get that information—or will she?

  No more playing around. It’s time for a face-to-face meeting. And only one of them will be going home.

  TOUGH JUSTICE:

  COUNTDOWN

  (Part 8 of 8)

  Janie Crouch

  A killer exposed

  The bomber made a fatal mistake underestimating Special Agent Lara Grant! With countless lives at stake, Lara and the CMU can’t keep doubting each other. Taking out this killer before he strikes again is going to require full focus from the entire team. But this case has shaken their faith in each other like never before. As they struggle to rebuild their frayed partnerships, they finally hit paydirt. In the final countdown, their mark has messed up. And as Lara braces for another confrontation with evil, she’ll do what it takes to make sure that his first mistake will be his last...

  Part 8 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 Tyler, Carla, and Emmy-Suz, my co-authors. What an inspiring group of women you are!

  Contents

  Episode Eight

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  Episode Eight

  The CMU team is scrambling. Halpert announced a second bomb, but before he could brag to Lara about his ultimate endgame, the line was cut. They’ll need to pull together to stop the Whisperer once and for all. Are they up for it—or are they fractured beyond repair?

  The final countdown has started…

  Chapter One

  She’d fucked up. Royally.

  Lara wasn’t sure exactly what had happened since the computer feed had been cut. She knew Nick had been cursing Mercer’s name with some pretty exemplary adjectives, so evidently it had been Mercer’s plan to cut the only known communication route they had to the bomber. Then the bomb squad had arrived and evacuated Lara’s apartment. Pulling everyone out, including Nick.

  All Lara had to keep her company now was the bomb team’s robot, currently evaluating the bomb under her chair as she sat there. The squad had named it Number Five. Lara prayed that was because of the catchphrase from the eighties’ movie Short Circuit: Number five is alive! or whatever it was they said—and not because the squad had lost the last four robots in situations like this.

  At least she knew there had been a real bomb under her chair and Halpert hadn’t played her this whole time. That had certainly crossed her mind. Although right now, as another drop of sweat trickled down her back to a place she couldn’t reach without shifting her weight too much, she’d take being made the fool if it meant she could get up.

  Not knowing what was going on was almost as painful as having to sit in this chair. No phones, no walkie-talkies, nothing that could be used to remotely detonate a bomb had been allowed anywhere nearby. It had been the first directive of the bomb disposal unit, followed by the immediate clearing of her apartment, the building and probably the whole damn block.

  “Okay, we’re good here.” Lieutenant Chandler Davis, head of the bomb unit, walked through the door, and winked at her. “We cut the blue wire this time.”

  Nick was a half step behind him, definitely not winking.

  “Do I need to write an epic poem of how awesome you are?” Lara said to Chandler. “Like when you dismantled the bomb at the warehouse a few days ago?”

  Chandler smiled. “I’ll add it to my collection any time you want to write one.”

  Both men crossed to her to help her stand. Amazing how having to hold yourself still for multiple hours could take so much out of your muscles.

  “You got her?” Chandler asked Nick.

  “Yeah.” Nick nodded, face grim. He led Lara a few steps into her kitchen. “You okay?”

  “Yes. Fine. I just need to get my blood flowing again and go to the bathroom.”

  She took care of that then met him back in the kitchen.

  “Nick, what’s happened? I’ve been out of the loop for hours. Before they kicked you out of the apartment you said something about getting a school on Long Island cleared, but Halpert told me there’s a second bomb. Was that the school? He was cut off before I could find out where. I don’t know why the hell Mercer told you to cut the feed. It was our only—”

  “A bomb did go off, Lara, just a few moments after we cut the feed with Halpert.” Nick’s mouth set in a hard line. “At a mall in Staten Island.”

  Lara might have fallen if Nick hadn’t had a grip on her. “Oh, my god.”

  It would’ve been full of families and children. She felt like she might vomit. This was her fault.

  Lara brought a hand up to rub her eyes trying to keep it together. This was her fault. She thought she’d known more than Halpert, but she’d never imagined a second bomb could be in play. And this stunt—going off on her own—could’ve prevented the team from getting there.

  “We got it cleared, Lara.” Nick’s tone was still grim. He was obviously more than pissed at her, but he at least didn’t let her think the worst for long. “Christina and Eloise figured out what building plans Harlen had been accessing online and we were able to get the building clear of civilians.”

  The relief that flowed through her was palpable. She’d screwed up so bad. Obviously Nick also knew she’d screwed up something fierce. But at least no one else had paid the price for her mistake.

  “Wait, why did you say Harlen, not Halpert?”

  Nick scrubbed a hand across his face. “Because we’ve been calling him that all morning.” He explained James’s discovery of Mitchell Halpert, aka Harlen Mitchell Michaels’s tracking software and how it tied everything so neatly together.

  Victoria. William Walsh. Trevor Dunbar. They had all been connected. “At least it all makes sense now. That these people weren’t just random—”

  She cut off, spinning while pulling her weapon out, when a fist slammed into her desk behind her.

  “Goddamned son of a bitch,” Chandler Davis muttered under his breath before turning away.

  “What?” Lara asked, rushing to him. “Is it the bomb? Is it still live? Do we need to evacuate?”

  “No.” The man looked at her then Nick. “We just got word. That bomb that went off in Staten Island was this same guy, right?”

  “Yes,” Lara and Nick both said at the same time.

  Davis’s face was ashen. “A member of the disposal unit was in that mall when it blew. He didn’t make it. Jason Baker. Eight months out from retirement.” He cursed again. “We thought we had more time.”

  Lara reached to offer Davis comfort, whatever pathetic comfort a single touch on the arm could offer, but he shrugged her off. Maybe because he couldn’t accept comfort right
now.

  Or maybe he sensed that Lara was at fault for his friend’s death. Davis turned and walked out of her apartment.

  “Halpert blew it early because we cut the internet feed to you,” Nick said, jaw tight. “Dammit, I told Mercer that would happen. That man needs to get over making everything a power struggle.”

  Lara was shaking. A life had been lost—and so many more could’ve been lost—all because she had withheld information about that SIM card from the team.

  “This is my fault,” Lara whispered.

  “This is Halpert’s, Harlen’s, whatever you want to call him, fault. Not yours. But you’re not without responsibility, Lara.”

  Regret burned like acid in her gut. “I know.”

  “We could see everything you and Halpert were discussing,” Nick told her.

  Shit. He knew it all. The whole team knew every emotion Halpert had pulled from her.

  Nick was angry. The heat of the anger was easy to see. And much easier to take than the cold underneath it. The disappointment. The withdrawal from her.

  “You crossed a line this time, Lara,” he continued softly, the weight of the words hanging in the chasm between them. “Deliberately withholding evidence from the team? Maybe if you’d given it to us we would’ve found something you didn’t see. Or could’ve set him up; trapped him.”

  Lara flinched. Not because Nick’s words were overly harsh but because they were 100 percent correct.

  She’d messed up on every possible level.

  Nothing between them would ever be the same, and not just professionally. Suddenly all she wanted was for Nick to gaze at her in his normal frustrated affection. The look that said 50 percent of him wanted to kill her, the other 50 percent wanted to kiss her.

  That was gone. She was afraid it was gone forever.

  She wanted to explain. To chase that look from his eyes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right about all of it. But the temptation to know what happened to my mother was too hard to resist. I shouldn’t have messed with him. Shouldn’t have allowed him to put me in that situation. I didn’t think—”