“Those shots are way high,” she said. “He’s trying to intimidate us. He’s probably set up on a ridge a couple hundred yards away and trying to flush us out because he can’t see us.”
“How would you know?” Sean’s face scrunched up with pain.
“I’ve been in his sights before. I feel like I know him.”
Sean pulled his Glock from his holster. “I’m good here. I’ll call nine-one-one while you find a better place to hide and wait for backup.”
“But—”
“Go, Dani. Get some help back here.” He rested his gun on his thigh. “If he comes looking for me, I’ll take him out.”
She stared at Sean, debating whether to leave him. He was pale and losing blood, and she needed to get a rescue team out here right now. Maybe she could draw the shooter’s attention away with a distraction, like Scott had done back on Spruce Canyon Road.
“Come on, Dani. You need to move.”
“Make the call.”
“I am.”
The door slammed shut as she dropped into a crouch beside the wreck. She took out her gun, then looked around to get her bearings as she jogged along the bed of rocks. She wanted to stay low and out of sight. The shooter was still out there, probably watching from the safety of a higher vantage point.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Scott.
“Dani! What the hell happened?”
“We took a hit and drove into a ditch.”
“Where are you?”
“Zachary Greene’s ranch. We’re out past the stable. Sean’s been shot and he’s pinned inside the truck.”
“I’m on my way.”
“Call nine-one-one. He needs a rescue team and—”
Crack.
• • •
Scott’s heart missed a beat.
“Daniele?”
“I’m here. He’s—”
“Get to cover now! That’s cover, not concealment. You know the difference? Find something hard that a bullet can’t penetrate—”
“I know, I know.”
“I’m ten minutes out.”
“I’m hanging up now. Call the sheriff and the FBI. Just get us some help here.”
• • •
Scott spotted the turnoff and screeched to a halt. He swung onto the road and gunned the engine. It was just ahead. Had to be. Less than a mile ahead on the right . . .
“Almost there, Daniele,” he said, wishing she could hear him. He glanced at the map on his phone. Damn it, he should be there by now.
He spied the gate and skidded to a stop. He glanced up and down the road. No police cars, no emergency vehicles, not even a hint of a siren, although he’d called every law enforcement agency in three counties. Where the hell was everyone?
Scott threw his truck into reverse and rocketed backward at an angle, aligning his grille with the Z in the center of the gate.
He shifted gears and stomped the gas.
• • •
Dani clawed her way up the embankment, grabbing at tree roots and struggling to hang on to her pistol. He hadn’t fired a shot in eight minutes. The silence unnerved her. Was he stalking closer? Or had he fled the scene?
Boom.
She hunched forward at the sound. An IED? She had no idea. She grabbed a sapling and hauled herself to the top of the ravine. Panting, she glanced around. She was in a thicket surrounding a long green pasture. Directly to her right was a corral with a trio of chestnut-colored horses, all with identical white stars on their foreheads. The horses were spooked by all the commotion. They were moving and whinnying and kicking up dust.
To Dani’s left was a low adobe building with satellite dishes lined up along the tile roof. Was it a house? An office? Across the pasture, maybe a hundred yards away, was another large barn.
The black Range Rover parked there made Dani’s blood turn cold. Zac Greene was inside that building.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she jerked it out with a rush of relief.
“Where are you?” Scott demanded.
“At the ranch still. Did you call nine-one-one?”
“Yes. Where at the ranch? I just busted through the gate.”
She whirled around. He was here already?
“Past the house and the stable. There’s an adobe building with satellite dishes. It’s across a pasture from a big green barn.”
“Take cover,” he ordered. “I’m coming.”
He hung up. She stared at her phone for a moment and heard . . . thunder?
Not thunder, but a low rumbling.
“Helicopter,” she muttered, feeling a surge of hope. Maybe a medical chopper? SMPD didn’t have a police helicopter, and neither did the sheriff’s office. Maybe someone had called the feds.
The rotor-blade noise grew louder. The wind whipped up leaves and dust around her and she tipped her head back to the sky. Through a gap in the trees she saw the helicopter hovering over the empty pasture.
But it wasn’t a police chopper. It was black and shiny and on the side was a silver Z.
Crack.
CHAPTER 27
Dani ducked behind a tree, panting.
She reached a trembling hand to her cheek, and her fingers came away red.
“He didn’t get me,” she said, staring at her fingers with disbelief.
He hadn’t, had he?
But she was bleeding. She’d probably been hit by tree bark, but it had been a close call. Way, way too close.
She flattened back against the tree and tried to make herself small.
“Daniele!”
She turned and Scott was there, pulling her down into a crouch.
“You’re hit.”
“I’m fine.”
He surrounded her with his big body. “Daniele, you’re bleeding.”
“It’s just a scratch,” she said as he combed his hand through her hair, searching for injuries. “Really, I’m okay. We need to get Sean. He’s in the ravine, and he’s badly wounded.” She peered around Scott at the barn. “Zac Greene is in that barn. He’s going to escape.”
“Like hell he is.” Scott looked at the barn and then at her. “Do not move. I’ll be back.”
“What? Where are you going? There’s a sniper walking around here!”
The grass flattened as the helicopter swooped down like a big black wasp. A black-clad man with a machine gun sprinted across the pasture and leaped onto one of the skids.
“It’s Doern,” she yelled above the noise. He wore a green flak jacket and had traded his rifle for an M4. Dani gripped her Glock in her hand, but she was out of range.
“He’s going to lay down cover fire,” Scott yelled back. “Stay behind this tree and keep low, do you hear me? Do not let him see you.”
“Wait!” She grabbed his arm. “God damn it, don’t you dare leave me here. This is my investigation!”
He stopped and stared at her, his blue eyes more intense than she’d ever before seen them, and she could see the war going on in his head. He wanted to leave her here and assume all the risk alone.
“Don’t sideline me, Scott. I’ll never forgive you.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “God damn it.” He looked at her. “Okay, listen. We’re out of pistol range here. We have to get closer. You move north, staying behind these trees as much as you can until you reach the house. Get behind the corner and fire off a few rounds to distract them. I’ll circle around to the barn, then come at them from the east.”
“Okay.” She released his arm.
“Solid cover, Dani. And you don’t need to hit them, just distract them. Aim for something big, like the helo.”
“Got it.” She started to move but he yanked her back.
“Be careful.” He kissed her hard on the mouth.
“You be careful, too.”
• • •
Dani sprinted for the low adobe building, keeping her eye on Doern on the skid of the chopper. She reached a black pickup parked near the building and ducked for cover behind it. T
hen she sprinted for the building and crouched low beside a window. Where was Scott? And what about Zachary Greene? She looked at the Range Rover beside the barn again and then glanced through the window beside her.
Her breath caught. Audrey Ayers was inside, laid out on a metal table. Dani’s mind flicked to Tessa Lovett in the autopsy room.
“Holy hell,” she murmured, cupping her hand against the glass for a better look. It was some sort of exam room. Audrey was alone, and she wasn’t moving, and, given the thunderous noise all around them, that wasn’t a good sign. She was either dead or unconscious.
Dani peeked around the corner. A flash of movement caught her eye as Greene ran across the pasture. Dani fired off two rounds at the chopper. Doern swung his weapon in her direction, and she ducked for cover as he hosed down the building with a barrage of gunfire.
Where was Scott? She got low and peeked around the corner again. Greene was almost to the helicopter when he suddenly went down.
Scott.
Dani felt a rush of relief, but it disappeared when Greene scrambled to his feet again and staggered to the chopper. He stepped onto the skid and managed to heave himself aboard.
Scott had hit him, but Greene was wearing a damn ballistic vest. Dani watched in despair as the helicopter eased off the ground with Doern still on the skid. His attention was on the barn now, no doubt searching for Scott.
The rotor noise changed pitch and the helicopter lifted up and up. Dani’s stomach clenched. They were getting away. They’d murdered four people across two states, and they’d shot both Scott and Sean. And they were going to get away with it.
• • •
Scott wanted the head shot, but he needed to get closer.
He sprinted for a tree, diving behind it as Doern tried to spray him with bullets. This was it. One more chance, and then it was over.
He eased around the tree and lined up his sights.
A flicker of movement caught his eye. Dani stepped out from behind the building and aimed her pistol at the tail rotor.
Scott’s heart clenched as she took the shot.
• • •
Dani watched in shock as the helo dipped down, then lurched up again and careened crazily to the side. She’d made the shot!
Greene tumbled from the open door and did a ten-foot free fall to the ground as Doern clung to the skid. Then the helicopter rolled to the side and then everything happened in slow motion.
The rotor caught on the roof of the barn.
A tremendous snap split the air.
Doern leaped away from the chopper just before it crashed to the ground.
Then everything exploded.
• • •
Scott stumbled to his feet, choking and coughing.
“Dani!”
He raced across the field, straining to see through the dense smoke. Where was she? His lungs burned as he sprinted through the cloud. He reached the adobe building, but she wasn’t there.
Movement in the corner of his eye. Scott pivoted with his gun, dropping to his knees just in time to miss a spurt of bullets from the M4. Scott lunged behind the pickup and managed to get a shot off, but it went wide.
Two rounds left.
Scott clutched his weapon, looking around for Dani. Where the hell was she?
A spray of bullets whizzed past him. He ducked low and returned fire.
• • •
Dani stumbled through the smoke, trying to stay low. Where was Doern? And Greene? The heat burned her cheeks as she neared the flaming wreckage.
A flash of movement caught her attention and she turned to see Greene hobbling toward the Range Rover.
“Freeze! Police!”
He glanced over his shoulder and broke into a lopsided run, obviously injured. He had a vest on, so she aimed for his leg and pulled the trigger. He crumpled to the ground and clutched his ankle.
Dani raced over, pulling out a pair of handcuffs as she looked around for Doern and Scott. Where were they?
Greene writhed on the ground, clutching his ankle and cursing. She shoved him onto his stomach and pinned her knee against his spine as she wrenched his arms behind him and slapped on the cuffs.
Her ears were ringing. Her lungs burned. Her prisoner cursed beneath her as she looked around frantically. Where on earth was Scott?
• • •
Scott crouched behind the truck, waiting for his moment. Doern was on the other side. One round left, and his enemy was wearing Kevlar. The only good shot was a head shot.
Scott glanced at the side mirror, using it for guidance as he eased around the back bumper.
A noise behind him. Scott whirled around just as a rifle stock smashed into his jaw. Scott’s head snapped back and pain blinded him. He fell onto his side and squeezed off a shot.
Doern staggered backward, wounded in the shoulder. He didn’t even drop his gun.
Scott surged to his feet and tackled him. He tried to rip the gun from Doern’s hands, but he had the weapon in a firm grip despite the bleeding wound. Scott’s Sig was empty, so he tossed it away and used both hands to try to wrench the M4 from Doern’s grasp. Something had to be wrong with the weapon or Doern would have shot Scott instead of clubbing him with it. Was it jammed?
With a sudden burst of power, Doern heaved Scott onto his back and pressed the gun barrel flat against his throat.
Scott struggled beneath him, trying to push off the massive weight. Doern’s face was red and his sweat dripped into Scott’s eyes as he tried to crush Scott’s throat with the rifle.
Scott punched him in the eye. And punched him again. The second blow tipped him sideways, and Scott used the momentum to heave him off his chest, then crash down on top of him. Scott seized the rifle and delivered a muzzle strike, but Doern rolled sideways. Scott flung the M4 away and lunged after him, tackling him to the ground, then landing a blow against the back of his head. Fire tore up his arm.
A knife. Doern’s secondary weapon was a Ka-Bar.
In Scott’s instant of shock, Doern rolled on top of him and crushed him beneath his weight. Scott threw his arm up to block the next slash. He grabbed Doern’s wrist with both hands. The blade hovered between them, wide and black and sharp enough to slice through airplane skin like butter. The tip of the blade trembled as Scott gripped Doern’s wrist, desperately trying to gain leverage.
Where was Dani? Had she taken a bullet?
White-hot fury filled him as he fought against Doern’s grip and his weight and the laws of physics. The man was sweating. Bleeding. His face was purple, but his eyes showed cool determination as he struggled to sink the blade into Scott’s throat.
In the distance, Dani’s voice. The sound of her calling him made Scott’s heart squeeze.
With a mighty groan, Scott pushed up and heaved Doern off him. He rolled him onto his back and wrenched the knife away. It was slick with sweat, and Scott almost dropped it before he got a grip on the hilt and threw a swipe at Doern’s neck.
His head dropped back with a gurgling noise.
Scott stared at him, chest heaving. He climbed to his feet. Sweat stung his eyes as he gazed down at the man who’d almost buried a knife in his throat.
Scott’s ears rang. His heart jackhammered in his chest. He stepped back, numb with shock.
Then his brain lurched into gear and he glanced around. “Daniele!”
And there she was. Standing in the haze of smoke. Her eyes were wide, and the horrified look on her face would haunt him forever.
He tossed the bloody knife away and rushed toward her. Her shirt was torn and she held her Glock at her side.
“Are you okay? You’re bleeding, Daniele.”
She blinked up at him.
“Where’s Greene?”
“He’s—” She turned around. “Cuffed. Over there.”
“You handcuffed him?”
In the distance, sirens. Dani turned toward the sound as a whump-whump filled the air and a white helicopter appeared above the trees.
&n
bsp; “It’s the feds,” Scott told her.
Dani tucked her gun away. “You called them?”
“Yeah.”
Smoke and dust began to swirl around them, and Scott took her hand and pulled her toward the building as the helo’s downdrafts flattened the grass and spooked the horses.
Dani looked spooked, too, and her eyes were wide and glassy. She’d just watched him slit a man’s throat. Scott felt sick for her. She stared up at him and her face was smudged, and she looked like she had after the truck blew up in New Mexico.
Doern had almost killed her, twice, and Scott would kill the man all over again if he had to.
Scott cupped Dani’s face in his hands. “Are you really all right?”
She nodded.
“Hey!”
They turned around to see an agent in a dark suit jogging toward them.
“That’s Rey Santos,” Dani said. “Ric’s brother.”
The man stopped in front of them and peeled off his shades as he looked around. “Is that him?” He nodded at the lifeless body in the dirt, the man who’d recently topped the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list.
“Rodney Doern,” Dani told him. “And Zachary Greene, the man who hired him, is over there.”
Santos gazed across the pasture at the man flailing around on the grass with his hands cuffed behind him.
“What did you do to him?” The agent looked at Dani with disbelief.
“What’s it look like? I arrested him.”
CHAPTER 28
Dani pushed through the door and spied her lieutenant across the sea of chairs in the hospital waiting room. He was talking to the DA.
“How is Sean?” Reynolds demanded.
“Just went into surgery,” Dani said.
Rey Santos broke away from a group of agents and joined the conversation. “The gunshot wound?”
“That was a through-and-through bullet,” Dani said. “The doctor tells me the leg is the more serious injury. His tibia is broken in three different places, and he’s going to need pins.”
“Catch me up,” Rachel said. “I understand you arrested a doctor? What happened to the horse breeder in New Mexico?”
“Marco Varela,” Dani said. “We were on the right track with that, but we took a wrong turn when we started looking at Varela as the mastermind. We thought Varela hired the hits on the scientists to eliminate competition and protect his horse-cloning operation. But we were off.”
At Close Range Page 26
