by Michele Hauf
“Soon as I can make it. Promise!”
A glance down the street spied the rental Jack had parked. Saskia dashed up the sidewalk, and once inside the unlocked car she confirmed that the attaché was still half-hidden under the passenger seat.
Leaning under the steering wheel and peeling off the plastic shell that protected the wiring, she prepared to hotwire the vehicle, but she needed a screwdriver or something to jam into the ignition. She opened the glove compartment and found inside a travel-sized tool kit. Perfect.
Forty seconds later the car purred to a start. If she turned off the ignition she might never get it started again, so she had to make this work. Jack had mentioned an old dock just out of the city. She had no clue where that was.
As she pulled away from the curb, keeping one eye out for police cruisers. Thankful for the car’s online GPS system, Saskia asked for directions to East Tilbury.
* * * *
Jack allowed the officers to escort him into the back of the police cruiser. Hands behind him, he slid to the opposite side of the back seat and sat directly behind the driver. He caught sight of Saskia running toward the parked rental as they pulled away from the curb. He didn’t turn his head to watch her. Didn’t want anyone to pick up on his curiosity and go after her.
He knew what she was going to do. It gave him a moment of relief. Of gratitude.
And then he fisted his hands until the zip ties dug mercilessly into his wrists. But one thing to be thankful for was that his shoes laced up. He’d be out of these zips in no time. He began to thread a lace through the plastic strip.
As for Saskia’s goal? The people holding Jonny would never make the exchange to a woman. And she had no clue where the actual dock was. He’d only mentioned a dock a ways down from Coalhouse Fort. That could be any number of places.
As the cruiser stopped at a red light, Jack met gazes with the driver in the rearview mirror. If the ECU wanted to punish him, they would have to take him in hand. Or they could let him go through the system and end up back in prison.
Either way, it was now or never to tilt the odds in his favor.
Chapter 23
“Marks has had me put a tail on you, Saskia,” Chester reported as she parked the vehicle.
She peered through the driver’s window toward the old wooden dock that was a half a football field away, across a snowy field. Didn’t look like anyone was on it. This had to be the right one. After pulling onto three docks beyond the city limits, none had looked old or abandoned. This one had a sign posted telling people to keep out, that the area was unsafe. And there was a fort nearby. Maybe an old army fort? Had to be the one Jack had mentioned. A rusted yard light flickered off and on at the top of the dock. It stayed off longer than the few seconds it was on.
Snow flurries whipped before the parked car in a diagonal veil. And the wind whistled. It looked wicked cold out there.
“Saskia?”
Drawn back to the moment, she touched her ear, aiming her focus on what Chester had said. She was being tracked? “Yeah, I expected that. Whoever is coming for me… Can you hold them back a bit, Chester?”
“What are you doing?”
If she couldn’t be honest now, she’d only miss her opportunity to help Jack.
“I’m finishing something for Jack. It’s the reason he went AWOL. He never would have left the ECU if he didn’t have to. He’s a good man, Chester. But his family comes first.”
“We can’t protect Jack Angelo anymore. And your assignment is complete. Whatever you’re up to—”
“Won’t take much longer. Then I’ll turn myself in, and let you guys do what you will. I owe Jack this much. He saved my life, Chester. He deserves a good turn. I’m going radio silent now. Sorry. It’s got to be done.”
After pulling out the earbud and tossing it to the floor of the car, Saskia grabbed the leather attaché, and stepped outside. Still wearing the Kevlar vest, more for the heavy warmth of it, than anything, she winced as each movement stabbed her in the ribs. The hit must have broken a few, surely. At the very least that pain distracted from her thigh.
The brisk wind was picking up. She turned to the side to block it from beating at her face. Scanning the area, she decided she was the only one idiotic enough to be out here on such a foul evening. But she saw a small light nearing the dock. A boat?
Shrugging up her shoulders to stir a little warmth around her neck, she scampered across the snowy field and then strode down the dock, attaché in hand. The boards creaked and she could feel their give. Decades of water and weather had softened them. One step could break through the aged wood. She angled her path toward where she noted the nails formed a line, and hoped that was where the support beams beneath were.
A searchlight from the approaching boat cast across the end of the dock. Another sweep, longer and holding on her for a moment, momentarily blinded her as it crossed over her face. She waved, thinking whoever was in the boat was expecting a brutish man in a suit and yellow tie and not a small woman fit out in down jacket and bulletproof vest.
She had to take the chance they would not turn around.
This was a far cry from Helsinki’s docks. And much warmer. But right now Saskia’s blood felt like ice. A dip in the drink would not bring the night to a pleasing end. She should have had a weapon. At the very least, a knife to defend herself. But she wouldn’t need one if she remained on the dock.
If the ECU were indeed on her ass, they could arrive at any moment and fuck up the exchange. She rushed forward to stand but three feet from the end of the dock. The boards under her shoes wobbled and groaned, and the wind bruised her cheeks. It was difficult not to stand there, hands down at her sides and shoulders hunched up around her neck as if a frightened and cold waif.
Another wave lured the boat closer. She counted five men in the boat. Not good odds. Was one of them Jack’s brother? What did he look like? Similar to Jack? Who were the people who held him? What had Jonny Angelo done to warrant a million dollar ransom?
Did any of those questions matter? Not really.
A man in a dark leather jacket and gloves stepped up to the side of the boat while another at the prow stabbed a massive hook onto the dock to hold them there. At the back of the boat another man reached out to grip the dock with gloved fingers.
“Who the bloody hell are you?” the dark man called in a distinctive Irish accent.
“A friend of Jack’s,” she called against the wind. “He wasn’t able to make it, but I’ve got it.” She slapped the attaché. “A million pounds. Where’s Jonny?”
The man turned and looked behind him. It was then she saw the man bound from shoulders to hips with thick rope. His face was bloodied and bruised and a gag wrapped around his mouth. He wasn’t wearing winter gear and had to be an ice cube after a blustery trip down the Thames.
“Hand it over!” the man said with a gimmee gesture of his gloved fingers.
“Put Jonny on the dock first!”
The man smirked and shook his head. “You heard her, boys. Put the boy on the dock!”
Saskia watched as two men lifted Jack’s bound brother. Just when it looked as though they would heave him up onto the dock, she felt the attaché being swiped out of her grasp. The man in charge had plunged forward to grab it. Of a sudden the man with the hook disengaged his weapon and gave a shove. The boat motor growled to a roar and the boat pushed away.
And Jonny was…
Saskia didn’t see him on the dock. Had they not released him? She counted the silhouettes in the boat. There were only four. Where was he?
She plunged to her knees and leaned over the edge of the wood dock. Under her palm, a thick chunk of weathered wood splintered and gave way. As she caught herself, her head lunged forward and she saw him. Hanging from one of the thick support posts. A big rusted hook held a loop of rope, dangling him mercilessly. His head rock
ed as if he were screaming, but Saskia couldn’t hear over the wind and waves. Half his body was submerged in the icy waters.
Saskia saw no way to get him loose unless she had a knife. She could free him if she were able to lift him a good foot to pull up the ropes from the hook.
A wave of icy water stirred by the boat’s wake washed up against the dock, covering Jonny’s gyrations, and splashing her face.
“Shit!”
This was not the job she’d signed on for.
But falling in love with Jack Angelo hadn’t been a part of the original plan either. And she did not regret that for one moment.
She’d always stood up to a challenge, and shown it her teeth. No reason to stop now.
Standing and unzipping her coat, Saskia swore against the blistering cold. She dropped the Kevlar vest at her feet and winced as the release of that hugging item seemed to pull out on her broken ribs. Without another thought, she stepped forward and dropped into the river.
* * * *
The police cruiser paralleled the Thames. Until it turned to head for Scotland Yard, it was very near the direction Jack had intended to go to find his brother. He had no idea what time it was, but he wasn’t going to risk losing the one chance at saving Jonny’s life. By tying his shoe laces together and sawing them across the plastic, he’d successfully broken them apart. Now to play it by ear.
The cruiser suddenly swerved and pulled up to the curb. Ahead, parked a dark limousine. Was it the same that had been parked back at the scene where Saskia had met Clive? His brain clicked and gears turned. Quick thinking honed over the years. This was the opportunity he needed. Because he wasn’t headed to Scotland Yard. They were going to hand him off to the ECU. Lucinda Marks, to be exact.
The back door opened, and Jack got out. He kept his hands behind his back. The officer didn’t notice. He was led around to stand at the curb while the limo light beamed onto his backside. The officer returned to his patrol car and…pulled away.
Jack lifted a brow. Running would be too easy right now. And he would not get far.
He guessed there would be a driver, armed, and Lucinda, also armed, inside the limo. They expected him to turn and walk back to them. Bloody hell, he had no plan. But he did need a vehicle.
The driver’s door opened and out stepped a man Jack didn’t recognize. Merely a hired hand or a trained ECU asset?
Jack remained at the curb, facing the blustery winds. He wasn’t going to make this easy for either of them.
“You’ll join us, Mister Angelo,” the driver said in an accent that the queen herself would have swooned over. He was a hired driver, Jack decided. Mistake number one on Marks’s part.
“I want a few minutes to take the air,” Jack called. “You know, my last bloody breaths?”
Hey, it was all he could summon at the moment.
And where was Saskia? Was she in the limo? He could see the outline of only one head in the backseat. Had she made it to the dock? It was too much to hope for.
“There will be time later for taking the air,” the driver called politely. “Miss Marks wishes to speak with you.”
“Then tell her to come out here. It’s a beautiful evening. I’d hate for her to miss the moon.” He nodded toward the sky where the moon was full yet blurred by the snow that whipped mercilessly in his face.
The driver ducked his head inside the limo. Discussing a game plan? Or simply relaying to Marks that Jack was being a right asshole. When the driver straightened and returned to the front of the car, Jack saw the gun in his hand. Or was it?
The back door opened and out jutted a long leg clad in black slacks. She wore an ankle-length beige coat. Blond hair shone on her shoulders and appeared highly lacquered. She looked ready for a night out at the billionaire’s club. And that woman would not be any man’s trophy, but rather the prize all men could only hope to admire.
With a flip of her long hair over a shoulder, she placed her hands akimbo and walked up to stand beside the driver. “Get in the car, Angelo. We’ll talk.”
“I’d like to talk out here, if you don’t mind. More of a ground zero, neutral field sort of thing.”
“Very well.” She took a few steps toward him. “You can put your hands in front of you. I’m not that stupid.”
He spread out his arms to reveal he wasn’t bound and slowly brought his hands together in a clasp before his crotch.
“Any way we can talk a deal?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I’m always willing to deal if the person shows merit. Skill. If he possesses something no other has. Something the ECU can use.” The snow seemed to avoid her and her hair remained perfect as she eyed him slyly. “Are you singular, Jack Angelo?”
I want to fuck you, Jack Angelo. Those words spoken by Saskia days earlier when he only had eyes for the pretty redheaded hotel receptionist. What a ride she’d taken him on. How to make sure that ride never ended?
“I am,” he offered.
Marks tilted her head. “I’m not convinced of that. Thugs are a dime a dozen. You came to us because you had the knowledge we needed regarding infiltrating banks and their security, but we’ve gained another agent with such skills recently. You are no longer singular.”
“Well…”
“Tony.”
At Lucinda’s nod, the driver approached Jack. Jack put up his hands, wanting to see what the man had in store for him. As he neared, Jack saw the gun wasn’t a pistol. He recognized that thing. It was an injection gun.
Tony shoved a hand onto Jack’s shoulder, and from behind he pressed the gun against the base of his skull.
Jack swore. His muscles tightened, preparing for defense. And yet… If they were going to chip him again, there had to be a reason. They wouldn’t chip a dead man.
The click of the injection gun preceded the skull-throbbing pain of the intrusion. A microscopic GPS chip had been forced through his skin and into the tissue at the base of his skull. It burned, but it was a pain he took with some optimism.
Tony returned to the driver’s door to place the injection gun back inside the vehicle. While Lucinda stepped toward Jack.
It was now or never. “Seems like you’ve got the dog back on the leash,” he said.
“The best place for you, Jack. You know that. You promise you won’t run astray this time?”
Was she offering him what he thought? A chance to stay in the ECU? No prison? No tombstone?
Yet for all that hope, Jack still couldn’t give her what she wanted. Not yet.
“I’m really sorry about this, Miss Marks, but I am a gentleman, and this is how a gentleman handles the obstacles life puts in his way.”
He lunged and wrapped an arm around her neck, swinging her to face the driver. Kicking high, he connected with the driver’s hand, sending what he now saw was a gun flying. Marks elbowed him in the ribs smartly. She wasn’t all glamour and makeup. She was strong. Skilled.
As the driver grabbed for Jack’s throat, he managed to drop his center of gravity, pulling down Marks and fisting her in the jaw. A knockout.
From behind, the driver gripped Jack about the throat and squeezed. He rolled forward, over Marks’s body and flipped the driver into the street to splay before the limo’s headlights. A quick fist to the man’s jaw knocked him out.
Snow collected on the woman’s perfect red lips. She wouldn’t be out for long.
Jack slid into the driver’s seat. The car was still running. And tucked down the side of the seat, he tugged out a bowie knife. Good thing Tony had preferred a pistol. Pulling carefully away from the curb so he wouldn’t nudge either of the bodies on the street, he headed for the edge of the city.
Chapter 24
Jack pulled the limo up next to the rental just as he saw Saskia go over the edge of the dock.
“What the hell?”
He noticed the red li
ghts on the back of the boat as it headed north up the Thames. They must have already made the exchange. Maybe? Something was off. He didn’t see Jonny.
The gears grinded as Jack abruptly threw the limo into park and opened the door at the same time. Pulling off his coat and shedding that in his wake, he raced over the lumpy snow-capped field and to the end of the dock. No other cars were in the area. But Marks would have the ECU on his arse soon enough. Hell, they could find him now that he’d been rechipped.
Bending over the end of the dock, he nearly slipped into the drink when his palm crushed the rotting wood and the plank gave way. Leaning onto his side, he saw the situation. Saskia was in the water struggling with the heavy ropes wrapped around his brother’s body. Jonny had been hung on the pier post and the water sloshed up over his chin. He was out, but his shivers were evident. As was Saskia’s failing strength.
Jack pulled out the bowie knife and thought to hand it to Saskia but she didn’t see him. And the winds would make calling to her difficult. He slipped over the wood planks, grasping the edge of the dock. The icy water shocked his system, and soaked through his clothing. He cursed seven ways to Sunday.
Saskia sputtered water and shouted something that sounded like his brother’s name. She reached for him. Her fingers clasped, stretching, but not connecting. A sudden wave washed her out of Jack’s reach and away from him.
“Grab the dock piling!” he shouted.
Another wave banged him up against his brother. Jack grabbed the slippery rope wrapped about Jonny’s chest. He hadn’t much time before the icy water numbed his extremities and made holding the knife impossible.
He sawed the Bowie over the thick ropes that must be used for shipping. They were as thick as the ropes that had hung in the Helsinki warehouse. Thankfully, it took but a minute for the rope to sever and loosen. Jonny’s body slumped against his, yet the waves sloshed him away to hit against the piling. His head banged the rusted hook. Jack struggled to stay above water with the heavy weight against him.
And where was Saskia? Had the current pulled her out into the river? No, it would generally smash a body against the shore, which was sandy and pocked with head-sized stones. He couldn’t see for the blur of snow and wind.
