Waiting for Him

by Samantha Cole

  The helicopter’s rotors were thumping in time to his pounding heart rate. The only chatter at the moment was from the pilot and co-pilot. The team and Carter were waiting for updates from Murray about what was going on. The pilots were pushing the bird as fast as they could, but Boomer was afraid they weren’t going to get there in time to save Kat. Even at full throttle, it would still take them about twenty minutes from Sarasota to Tampa. He’d have to trust Jake and Tanner to do what they could until their backup arrived. It was just frustrating to sit and wait for info without being able to do anything.

  From what Murray had said, one of the tangos was dead next to the compound’s gate. That meant there were only two more they were aware of. With Egghead’s medical alert tracking bracelet, they would at least know where Kat was. The FBI’s SWAT team was now in direct contact with Jake and rerouting to intercept the get-away vehicle. There were too many variables and Boomer didn’t like the odds.

  Brody shifted in his seat. “You know, Ian, this is why we need our own fucking bird.”

  Nodding, their boss crossed his arms. “Not that it helps us now, but it’s being delivered in two weeks. We’re storing it at the airport with the jet until the heliport pad is built. That starts next week, by the way, along with the obstacle course Devil Dog planned out.”

  As his teammates and Carter added some more mindless chatter through the chopper’s headsets, the ground below them was coming and going at a fast clip. Boomer just hoped it was fast enough. He glanced at his dive watch—seven minutes down, about thirteen minutes to go. “Fuck.”

  Chapter 23

  Shivering, Kat tried to sit as far away from the man who she now recognized as Viktor “The Bull” Denisovich, Volkov’s right-hand man and self-appointed heir to the dead man’s criminal empire. Ian had shown her pictures of the man who Benny and Jake had confirmed was the leader of the group who’d tried to kidnap her from the motel in Norfolk. Denisovich and Pig-face hadn’t said a word to her since they’d fled the compound about ten minutes ago, speaking to each other in Russian, which only enhanced her fear and anxiety. What were they planning on doing to her to get the money? She’d gladly give it to them if she could only be certain she would still be alive once they had it in their greedy little hands. The only thing she wanted was the chance to have the life she craved…the life she deserved with Benny. She didn’t even know if Rick and Eileen were alive and doubted the Russians would tell her. All she could do was pray Jake and Tanner were tracking her and coming up with a rescue plan. Benny had assured her that was what his team specialized in and she trusted them to get her out of this damn mess.

  “Blyat!”

  Kat didn’t know what Pig-face had said in Russian, but by the way he spat it out, she guessed it was a curse word. A split second after he said it, he slammed on the brakes, sending her flying forward, her head smashing against the headrest of the seat in front of her. Black spots and white stars filled her vision as a myriad of sounds assaulted her ears. Loud screeching, yelling, whaps, pops, and the rush of air escaping surrounded her. It took her a moment to realize both her head and the car were spinning as Pig-face tried to control it on four shredded tires. The bare rims were grinding against the asphalt as the vehicle rapidly slowed. What the hell was happening?

  Somehow he managed to keep them from flipping over, and the vehicle finally came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the highway. Before Kat had a chance to think about escaping, Denisovich snatched her by the hair and hauled her to his side, his weapon pressed against her temple. Tears filled her eyes as she tried to ease the pressure on her scalp. Outside the SUV, smoke from the blown tires began to settle, and all was quiet except the three occupants’ heavy breathing and Pig-face’s cursing in both languages.

  “Yobaniyi ment! Fucking cops blew tires. Vhat now?”

  Hope flared in Kat’s chest as she heard sirens approaching. She just prayed these two men didn’t do anything stupid that would get them all killed. The sirens switched off one-by-one as several vehicles came to a screeching halt, surrounding them at a distance. Kat tried to glimpse what was going on, but the only direction Denisovich’s grasp allowed her to see was through the window next to him. She realized they were now turned sideways on the highway, facing the southbound lanes. Further past the line of idling patrol cars with their flashing lights, and unmarked SUV’s, she saw the signs of traffic beginning to build past the road block which had been quickly put in place. There were police officers—some in uniform, others dressed in all black—using their vehicles as cover and pointing handguns, shotguns, and rifles at the get-away vehicle. If Kat thought she was scared earlier, she was now beyond terrified. Please, God, don’t let them decide to go down in a hail of bullets.

  Several minutes went by before two men behind one of the police cars caught Kat’s attention, and she gasped when she focused on Jake. His arms gesturing wildly, Boomer’s teammate was arguing with a red-faced man in an ill-fitting suit. It was obvious the man wanted Jake away from the scene, but he wouldn’t budge. A sudden voice over a loudspeaker interrupted the Russians’ rapid conversation in their native language. “Throw out your weapons and come out with your hands in the air.”

  Pig-face rolled his window down halfway and yelled, “Fuck you.”

  Okay, Kat thought, that command didn’t go over well. Now what? “Please let me go. We’re surrounded. If you cooperate, I’m sure the judge will go easier on you.” Actually, she wasn’t sure of it at all, but it sounded good, right?

  “Shut up.” Denisovich’s head swiveled as he eyed what was going on around them. “Ruslan, demand new car or ve kill girl.”

  Well, shit, that didn’t sound comforting, but at least the bastard had let go of his grip on her hair and she was able to sit up a little better. Before she could move away from him, the big man grabbed her upper arm, pulled her across his lap, and switched their positions in the backseat, putting her between him and the majority of the police officers. He held her close, still pointing the deadly end of his pistol at her head. She listened as Ruslan, aka Pig-face, shouted their demand out the window, and the hostage negotiator on the megaphone responded. Kat got the feeling she was in for a very long and stressful afternoon.

  * * *

  Standing about twenty-five yards away from the disabled Escalade, Jake gritted his teeth as SAC Frank Stonewall got in his face, demanding he and Tanner leave the area. “You’re fucking civilians, and this situation is now under the jurisdiction of the FBI. Get back in your fucking truck, and get the hell out of here, so we can do our jobs.”

  Keeping his voice low and threatening, Jake towered over the shorter man and leaned in, so he wasn’t overheard by anyone else. “Listen, you fucktard. The only reason you were called in was because we were short-handed and Ian couldn’t get a hold of us. You know damn fucking well Keon will ream you a new asshole with one quick phone call. Now, we’re willing to step back and let the SWAT commander take over, but I’ll be fucking damned if I let that woman out of my sight again, so take your attitude and shove it up your ass.”

  The SAC looked ready to explode, but held his tongue when a tall, dark-haired man, dressed all in black and carrying a megaphone, approached them. “Jake? I hear this mess started at Trident. Fill me in, so I know what we’re dealing with. You’ll have to tell me what’s up with the eye patch later.”

  Jake shook Calvin Watts’ extended hand. The agent was the lead negotiator in charge of the Tampa area FBI SWAT team. Having mutual friends, they played basketball against each other almost every Tuesday night at the local YMCA, and Jake was relieved the man was here. He’d seen Watts’ team in action before and was confident they could get Kat out of this in one piece. “Hey, Cal. I appreciate the fast response. Thank God Ian had you en-route, and TPD had cars nearby with the spike strips available. The tangos kidnapped Boomer’s woman from the compound. They shot our guard in the shoulder, but he was able to drop the original driver, so now it’s just two of them in there, plus Kat. Ta
ngos are Russian mobsters from Virginia. Kat’s father appropriated a large sum of money from their boss about twelve years ago and they want it back.”

  Ignoring the SAC who stood by still seething, Watts, who was officially in charge of the incident, gestured then started walking toward the newly arrived SWAT command van, and Jake followed. “Okay, how much money are we talking about here? I doubt they’d be taking such a big risk for a few thousand.”

  “Try fifteen million, plus twelve years interest, sitting in the Cayman Islands.” Cal whistled his amazement as he opened the back door of the large truck and climbed in after Jake. “Yeah, I know, far from chump change. From what I understand, Kat’s dad was an accountant for the mob, but didn’t realize who he was really dealing with until he was too far in. After keeping his nose clean for a few years, he discovered evidence of white slavery, and gave it to the FBI. A few days later, Kat’s family was run off the road. The crash killed her mother and brother, and sent her and her dad into the Witness Protection Program. Kat didn’t know it until her father died recently, but the old man transferred money out of the mob’s accounts a few days after the accident and sent it to a dummy account. Revenge, I guess. A string of unrelated events put these bastards back on her trail leading us here.”

  Watts shook his head. “Damn, you boys don’t like anything simple, do you? All right, let’s get this rescue underway. They’re demanding another car and a free pass or they’ll kill her. The usual shit these idiots think we’ll cave for. Any idea what their names are, so we can start developing a profile?”

  A tech typing away on a nearby computer keyboard looked up at Jake, waiting for his answer. “No ID on the driver, but the guy in the back seat with Kat is Viktor Denisovich, a trained assassin who took his boss’s place in the organization after he got the okay to off the guy. From what I hear, he’s not going to go down easy.”

  “Guys like him never do. Anyone else here from Trident?”

  “One of our contract guys, Tanner, is over by his truck, staying out of the way and keeping our dog from staging his own rescue. The rest are on their way. When Brody gets here, he’ll be able to listen in on a microphone Kat’s wearing. It’s one of his toys we’ve used before.”

  Picking up two headsets, Watts tossed one to Jake. “Okay. Stick around and stay out of Stonewall’s face. I’m not in the mood for his fucking blubbering. And ears only. Keep your microphone off—you’re here out of professional courtesy and I trust your input, but I won’t have you interfering with the negotiations.”

  Understanding the man was making a huge concession allowing him stay, Jake replaced the Trident headset over his left ear with the new one, pocketing the former which was only on the compound’s frequency. Murray was now in an ambulance on his way to the hospital with Colleen in tow, so there wasn’t anyone back at the war-room for him to talk to. “Thanks, and no worries. I trust you to do your thing.”

  “Sir?” Both men looked at the second tech who was monitoring several radio frequencies among other things. “We’ve got a State PD chopper requesting permission to land nearby. Says they have the rest of the Trident team with them.”

  Cal raised an eyebrow at Jake who shrugged. “Friends in high places, what can I say?”

  The negotiator barked out a laugh. “Yeah, okay, Smitty. Since the highway is shut down in both directions, tell TPD on the ground to clear a landing zone in the southbound lanes, south of us, and ask the State boys to stick around. We might be able to use them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Hey, Cal?” The agent followed when Jake took a few steps backward, away from the techs, acknowledging whatever Jake was going to tell him was for his ears only. “We’ve got an extra man with the team. Black-ops with federal clearances up the ass, and don’t ask for any other information because I can’t tell you. Just know he’s got Moran, Keon, and POTUS on speed dial and the same in reverse.” The agent’s surprise was evident at the mention of the director and assistant director of the FBI, along with the President of the United States, but he let Jake finish. “The man is one of the best snipers I know, and he’s got my spare rifle on board the bird. Not stepping on your toes here, just know I trust him with my own mother’s life.”

  “That’s saying a lot coming from a SEAL sniper.” Jake waited while Cal mulled things over, knowing he would have to accept his response either way. “All right, I hope we don’t need him, but here’s what we’ll do.”

  * * *

  Under the watchful eyes of his teammates, Boomer paced back and forth behind the line of law enforcement vehicles and personnel. The only reason he was back there and not leading a full out assault on the Cadillac Escalade in the middle of the highway, some forty yards away, was Ian threatened to handcuff him to Tanner’s truck. “This is taking too fucking long.”

  Since they all knew how this had to play out, no one answered him, letting him vent his frustrations verbally. Hostage negotiations were a psychological game for the lead negotiator. There were five steps to the technique of communicating with the hostage takers—active listening, empathy, rapport, influence, and behavioral change. An ideal situation would have the bad guys releasing the hostage and surrendering without any escalation of events. Unfortunately, very few hostage situations were ideal.

  For a trained team of former Navy SEALs, such as Trident, it was difficult to sit back and let another team take over. But they all knew Calvin Watts’ SWAT was one of the best nationwide, with a long history of successful missions to their credit. If they had to relinquish the rescue to a law enforcement agency, they were lucky it was his team.

  It’d been over an hour since the police spike strip had been thrown on the highway, blowing all four tires on the Russians’ SUV. Kat must be going out of her mind with fear, and Boomer knew exactly what it felt like. At least the team had an inside man. Jake was still in the communications van and using Marco’s borrowed earpiece to pass on information to them. Occasionally he would ask a question, in order to give the hostage negotiator some intel, which Ian or Boomer hopefully had the answer to. Also in the com-van was Egghead, who was using a program on his tablet to listen in on the conversation taking place between the two Russians, thanks to the microphone in Kat’s GPS bracelet. The men were speaking mostly in their native language, but the geek had a TPD officer also plugged in and translating for him. Unfortunately, they weren’t learning anything from the exchange which could help them end the incident peacefully.

  “Ian?” Jake’s voice came over the team’s earpieces.

  “Go.”

  “These guys are getting antsy. They’re insisting on taking the State PD chopper or they’ll start cutting her up with a knife. With Denisovich’s background, Cal thinks we’re running out of time.” Boomer’s eyes widened in horror, but a glare from his boss had him keeping his mouth shut. There had to be a reason why Jake was telling them this, knowing he was listening in. “We have an idea, but we need your input to see if it’ll work. Cal wants you and Boomer in the com-van.”

  Both men headed to the FBI command center after being waved under the yellow Do-Not-Cross tape spanning the width of the road. They ignored a dirty look from SAC Stonewall as they passed him and a few other agents along the way. Now wasn’t the time for a pissing match with the Special Ass-hat in Charge.

  Ian opened the door and allowed Boomer to climb in ahead of him. Both men shook hands with Cal Watts before the negotiator laid out the plan Jake and he had come up with. Ian stated he thought it was a good strategy since they were down to the wire with Denisovich’s threats, but Boomer was terrified something would go wrong. “What if she doesn’t get it or even fucking see it? She’s probably petrified. What if she doesn’t understand what we want her to do?”

  Crossing his arms, Ian addressed Jake. “You’ve seen Kat in action twice now. Once at the motel and again at the compound. Do you think she’ll be able to focus on what we’re telling her? If she doesn’t, this shit is going to get ugly real fast because we ca
n’t let the chopper take off with her in it.”

  Even though it seemed Boomer was playing the pessimist, that’s what the team did—examined a situation from every angle before giving it a go. Jake took a deep breath and let it out. “At the motel, she didn’t hesitate, and from what I heard afterward, she jumped in to make sure I was okay. The injury didn’t bother her. Same goes for what just happened at the gate. Yeah, she was probably scared shitless, but both she and Colleen made us proud. Kat was able to think fast enough to give Beau the command to attack. And from what I saw real quick on the monitor, she also didn’t hesitate to open the gate and do what she had to do to save the others. I’m positive, as long as we get her attention on the way to the chopper, this will work.”

  All eyes turned to Boomer. They were out of options and he knew it. “It’s gotta be me. Out of all the voices, it’ll be mine she’ll be listening for and focus in on.”

  Cal nodded. “Agreed. But just in case, I want Ian with you, and you’ll be flanked by two of my men.” He pointed his finger at Boomer. “You know how this goes, man. Don’t do anything stupid out there and fuck up my operation.”

  A lesser man would have been insulted, but Boomer knew the negotiator was right. The SWAT team trained day in and day out with each other, knew exactly what each other was thinking, how they would react. Bringing in an unknown, such as himself, no matter how well trained, could throw someone’s timing off, and that’s when things became a cluster-fuck. “Let’s do this.”

  * * *

  Kat couldn’t have heard right. The man on the megaphone said the Russians could take the police chopper wherever they wanted to go if they released her. When the response was she was going with them, the jackass agreed. What the fuck? Maybe they were going to continue to track her through her GPS and stage a rescue somewhere else. Or maybe they had something up their sleeve. A trick. That had to be it. Right? God, she hoped she was right. At least Denisovich had put away the sharp knife he was threatening to cut off her fingers with. But then again, the gun was pointed at her head once more, so she was still in deep shit.