Deadly Intent

by Kylie Brant

  “You know, Agent Whitman warned me about you, Burke.” Sheriff Preske’s voice was snappish. “He didn’t exactly sing your praises.”

  “That’s only because he’s not a karaoke fan. But I think he harbors a secret desire to have my baby.”

  “Burke’s solid, Sheriff.” Kell looked at Agent in Charge Travis with no small degree of shock. “Abrasive as hell, but solid.”

  That last was more like what he expected from the man. He hunched closer to the heater and withstood an urge to turn and warm his backside. In doing so, he cast another concerned look at Macy. Was once again taken aback by her foreign appearance.

  They all looked like special op polar bears. The gear that had been distributed had included two-piece white Ghillie Suits and gloves and matching helmets equipped with LED headlights. Those had gone on over their outerwear.

  The armored vests had gone on under it.

  Macy looked like a cub amidst the bears, but her suit fit surprisingly well. The sheriff had heard there was a woman on the team and had brought gear to fit her.

  There were enough personnel in the area to make Kell more than a little jumpy. But the combined forces of search and rescue, Forestry, CBI, and the sheriff ’s office SWAT team meant they could afford to break into two teams, each on for an hour and a half, giving everyone a chance to at least partially unthaw around the heaters or inside a vehicle.

  “Last weather report predicted no end to the conditions.” Everyone’s head turned when Macy spoke. She’d been silent, drinking a hot chocolate from the huge container that had been brought up with the rest of the supplies. “Wind speeds of thirty-five miles an hour with gusts up to fifty. I’m sure your shooter is good. But adjusting for those sorts of speeds is dicey at best. With the poor visibility because of the snow . . .” She left the rest of the thought unsaid, but there wasn’t a man there who couldn’t complete it.

  Crosby, the sniper, would have been blown out of the tree he’d finally chosen if he hadn’t tied himself to it. “Your man can’t stay out there until morning.” Kell felt compelled to point out the obvious. “The flashlight lanterns were turned off in the shelter nearly an hour ago.” He and Macy had been on duty, and he’d been damn glad when he’d seen it. Maybe it meant the girl had been given a few more hours.

  But hours were all she had.

  “The weather up here is hard to predict.” Preske pushed up his face guard and mask to wipe away the ice forming on his mustache. “It’s a big area. It can be cloudy and snowing in one spot and ten miles away the sun is shining. There’s still a chance the weather will calm before dawn. And as soon as the guy stirs, Crosby will have him.”

  Kell subsided. It wasn’t like Preske would be making the final decision in any case. He was checking in regularly with Whitman and Raiker, who were already on their way to the bank. The final decision would be theirs.

  Kell edged his way over to Macy and silently she held out her hot chocolate for him. He took a long drink and handed it back to her. It was barely warm, although it had been steaming minutes ago. “How you doing?”

  “Getting nervous,” she murmured back. He huddled closer to keep their conversation between themselves. “I just can’t shake this feeling . . . Dodge doesn’t have reason to wait long. Why would he? Every moment he stays here is a step closer to getting caught. It’s conceivable that he’s waiting to be given the word before killing her. But after the money is paid, why wouldn’t that word come sooner rather than later? You’d think he’d stand a better chance of getting out of here in the dark.”

  “This storm is going to slow him down as much as it does us.”

  “Little consolation if . . .” She stopped herself from saying it. But he knew exactly how the thought would end.

  Little consolation if the girl was already dead.

  “If it were just our group, with Raiker at the helm alone calling the shots, I’d feel a whole lot better about this,” he muttered. But he’d been on multiagency teams plenty of times during his stint with the Baltimore PD. Too many chiefs, not enough Indians. Snipers that thought they were flawless. Tactical teams too ready to go in before negotiations were given a chance to work.

  And most scary, heads from various alphabet agencies wrangling over the best course of action. Either delaying the proper response until it was too late or making a decision based on politics and turf rather than on the reality of the issue.

  “We just have to wait and hope that Raiker does his thing.” Unconsciously he tried to shove his hands in his coat pockets for extra warmth. Was reminded that the suit covered them. “He’s the only one I trust to make a decision like this.”

  Paulie Samuels was entertaining himself by practicing card tricks. It went without saying that he had a deck on him at all times. It was a habit the man had to keep himself calm and Adam knew him well enough to avoid getting sucked into the showmanship.

  Right now he was seated at a polished cherry conference table in the bank president’s office, spinning cards on his finger and shaking them from his sleeve. Sitting down next to him, Adam watched for a moment before saying, “Have you had any more attempts to bypass the security on our financials?”

  The man looked up. The ace spinning on his index finger never faltered. “How’d you know? Right after I sent the bastard a little virus that should have turned his machine into a crispy critter, it wasn’t forty-eight hours before there was another attempt.”

  Adam drew a deep breath. It was only when a person had something to hide that this sort of news would be so disturbing. He had more to hide than most. “And . . .”

  Paulie lifted a shoulder. His tie today was covered with miniature slot machines. “Didn’t get any further than he did the first time. Not as far, actually, because I was ready for him and had a dandy little detour set up for him. It’ll be weeks before he can rid his machine of the blizzard of spam and porn notices I sent him.”

  “How do you know it’s the same person?”

  “Because he doesn’t have a big arsenal of tricks. I recognize his patterns.” When Adam didn’t answer, his friend looked at him in surprise. “Hey, you aren’t worried, are you? I’ve got your back, Adam, always. Instead of destroying his hard drive, I thought I’d send him a Trojan horse. See if we can get a glimpse of who we’re dealing with.”

  “Spyware?”

  Paulie’s expression looked pained. “For you less technical people, that’s as close as you can probably come to understanding it. But if we’re lucky, we’ll get some idea of who we’re dealing with. Because while he’s busy getting rid of the spam I loaded him with, I’ll be going through any e-mail accounts, online banking transactions, documents . . . just as good as sitting at his computer myself.”

  Adam gave his friend a faint smile. “Good job.”

  The man’s gaze drifted back to the cards. He turned over his hand and showed the queen of spades cupped in his palm. “I’ll remind you of that when we negotiate my next contract.”

  With a flicker of amusement, he said, “I’m sure you will.” Adam noted Whitman come in the room and rose to join the man in the doorway.

  “Sheriff Preske just reported in. Your man Burke is getting antsy.”

  “Hardly surprising. What’s the weather report?”

  “There’s always the slight chance it could get better by morning. But the forecast calls for several more hours of snow and winds.”

  “Damn.” Ordinarily a sniper was their best chance to avoid harm to the girl. It was hard to avoid collateral damage when a structure was breached. His gaze traveled over the man’s shoulder to the Mulders sitting at a table with the bank president. The couple’s hands were clasped.

  “They’ve got to go in,” he murmured and was relieved when the CBI assistant director nodded.

  “I agree.”

  “And the sooner the better. We might have more time if the transfer is physical, but if it’s to be electronic . . .”

  It appeared that he and Whitman were on a rare s
imilar wavelength. “Then the girl doesn’t have much more time.”

  Preske walked back into the group huddled around the heaters, attempting to hook the radio onto the belt at his waist as he did so. “New game plan, people.”

  Kell and Macy turned at the man’s pronouncement. They’d been readying with the rest of their team to head back into place surrounding the cabin, to relieve the men there right now.

  “We’re going in.”

  “Hallelujah.” Kell flexed his hands. The pronouncement filled him with a sense of relief. The trepidation filtered in moments later. He didn’t have to be told how chancy a breach was. But with both Dodge and the girl hopefully sleeping, they stood a decent chance of getting the girl out alive if they cut off Dodge before he could get to her first.

  A big if.

  “Burke!” the sheriff barked. Kell moved into the circle. “How good a look did you get at that door today?”

  “Not as close as I wanted. But the whole structure is made to be portable. To knock down and set up easily. The door won’t be reinforced. You could go with either a mechanical or ballistic breach.” Looking closer, he saw that the man had unrolled the drawing he’d made of the structure. “What do you have for new intelligence?”

  “Misha and Cody are on the ground in back with night vision binoculars. No lights on inside. They haven’t seen anyone through the window since they went on duty.”

  So in other words, no changes.

  “They’re our two most experienced members with the thunderbolt. They’ll be the primary entry team.” The man stabbed his finger at the drawing of the window. “Hillis and Voss will wait for the signal and use the bang stick to rake out the window and toss in the flash bangs at the same time the other two are going through the door.”

  “Santeen, Wilder, and Matthews serve on our secondary entry team.” He looked up then, seemed to guess the thoughts of the others in the circle staring at him. “Don’t worry, boys. You’ve got a spot at the party. Whitman says Burke and Travis will follow the secondary team in and secure the hostage. Morgan, Neely, and Sachs will bring up the rear and help provide cover as you clear the area. Make sure to pick up goggles from the gear we brought. The grenades will have the place full of smoke. You got the best look inside, Burke, because it was still daylight when you got there before the wind became such a bitch. You and Travis go for the girl. You’ve got weapons?”

  “Yes.” He and the agent answered simultaneously.

  “Everybody make sure you take a whisper mic headset. We don’t want anyone jumping the gun out there.”

  Men were already turning away to get their needed equipment and to find snowmobiles. Someone approached the sheriff. When Kell noticed who it was, his heart sank. For a moment, just a moment, he’d forgotten she was here.

  “Sheriff, I believe you forgot to give me a duty.”

  The man stared at Macy. The heat thrown off from the propane had melted the ice on his facial hair, and now it dripped down his red jowls. “Not everyone is going in there, Ms. Reid. I’m not. The SAR team isn’t. Neither are some of my . . .”

  “But the rest of my team is. What did Raiker and Whitman tell you about my duties?”

  Preske was getting irritated. “I’m in charge on scene. I say you’re best suited for calming the girl once they get her out.”

  “Ooh.” Kell winced. “Hope he’s wearing a cup.”

  “He’s right,” muttered Travis. “I don’t want to be worrying about where Macy is when we’re inside.”

  “You’re on your own with that one.” He shouldered through the men and reached Macy’s side as she began to speak again. “I’ll have you know, my law enforcement experience can match or exceed that of . . .”

  Firmly, he grasped her arm and tugged, nearly pulling her off balance. “C’mon, Macy. You can ride with me.” And then he didn’t release her, despite her desperate tugging, until they were next to their ride.

  “Did you hear him?” She was still fuming, and this time when she tried to free herself, he let her go. “Insufferable. I can’t believe there’s still that much bias in law enforcement.”

  “Then you haven’t had as much experience in its ranks as you claim. Get on.” He knew better than to point out that her accent had been front and center when she was slicing and dicing the man. He’d half expected to hear a “my good man” come out of her mouth as she was speaking.

  “You could have helped.” Her arms were folded over her chest, her stance suspicious. “If you’d said something about Raiker wanting me involved, he might have listened.”

  “So I should have come to your rescue, but that wouldn’t have been biased,” he countered. “Can’t have it both ways, Mace. Now get on.”

  She approached him rapidly. But she wasn’t headed for the snowmobile. Because he’d seen her in action before, he covered up reflexively.

  But when she drew closer, all she did was push up his face guard and the mask beneath.

  “What are you doing?”

  Moving her head, her light shone over his face. “I knew it. You agree with him.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to prevaricate. But in the midst of the gravity of the situation they were about to embark on, he chose the truth. “Up here?” He tapped the side of his helmet. “No. I’ve worked with you, remember? But here?” This time he thumped his chest. “Yeah, here I’m relieved that you’re not going to be heading into a smoke-filled room with a hired killer inside and a mass of trigger-happy men swarming around. So sue me. But that doesn’t make me a chauvinist. It just makes me stupid.”

  And damned if he didn’t feel like it, with the glow of her damn light in his face, revealing more, much more, than he’d ever meant to. He pulled down his face mask and lowered the helmet shield.

  “Why did you say that?”

  He ground his teeth at the bewilderment lacing her words. “Hell if I know. I guess I’m just not as good at distance as you are.” Nearby, snowmobiles were starting up and heading off. He turned on the ignition of his. If she didn’t get on, he was tempted to ride off and leave her.

  But she did settle herself in back of him, after first slipping out of her snowshoes. He handed his back to her, and she took them silently. And for the first few miles at least, bucking and battling through the hellacious wind and blinding snow seemed almost a reprieve.

  The sleds were run on low speed and then abandoned a couple miles from the shelter to avoid having the sound of their engines carry. The team walked into the thickening woods in sets of four, with line loosely wrapped around their waists, connecting them by several feet’s length to the person in back of them. They’d shed the line once everyone was ready to get in place. Another team would follow in a few minutes to form an outer perimeter encircling the cabin.

  It still burned Macy that she’d be part of that outer perimeter.

  She wasn’t averse to being the one dealing with Ellie when she was brought safely from the cabin. And she knew she would be good at dealing with the traumatized child. But that didn’t make it any more palatable than when her boarding school roommate had tried to convince her she should make both their beds because she was good at it.

  The whisper mic headset she wore beneath her white tactical helmet sounded. “Primary entry team position.”

  “Misha, check.”

  “Cody, check.”

  “Secondary entry team position.”

  One after another, the men sounded off, indicating readiness. Macy could feel her muscles grow tense. Her palms in the bulky gloves dampened, despite the cold. She held a heavy down blanket to wrap the girl in and was standing behind a thick fir, twenty yards from where Kell was stationed. He was another twenty yards from the front of the house. When the first and second wave of men rushed forward, she’d move up to take the place he vacated. And they’d know exactly where to run with the girl to hand her off. Macy in turn would turn and take the girl much farther into the trees, beyond them, to safety.

  The men had
all checked in. There was silence on the radio. Time dragged to an abrupt halt. And every single scenario that could go wrong began to play in her head.

  Kell had never seen the girl alive through the window.

  He hadn’t seen her face.

  Hadn’t seen her move.

  Ellie Mulder might be dead even as they waited out here. She might have been killed the moment she made that video.

  Her instincts were heightened to a painful level. Raising the night vision binoculars she’d swiped from one of the men on the way up, she peered at the quiet cabin and tried to convince herself that they were in time. That everything would be fine.

  That the child wouldn’t be killed in the crossfire.

  She let out a long stream of breath, forced the negative thoughts from her mind. It was the waiting. Long and painful. The wind howled around them, the gusts carrying a heavy slant of snow that made it difficult to see more than a yard in front of her without help from the binoculars.

  The only sound was the constant whistling of the wind. Then the radio sounded. “Breach, breach!”

  Macy brought the glasses up again, saw the men running toward the door with the battering ram. At the same time they went through, she heard the flash bang grenades detonate, two in quick succession. The entry team was through the door now. Kell and Travis after them.

  Macy ran up to the spot Kell had been in a moment before. The secondary team was swarming the shelter, and from her radio came a jumble of noise.

  “Put it down put it down put it down!”

  Shots. Four in quick succession.

  “Knife!”

  “Where’s the girl? Got the girl?”

  “Put your hands behind your head. Now!”

  Everything was a blur. More men were entering the house. Some were running out.

  One of them was Kell. The body in his arms was coughing.