Harley (In the Company of Snipers Book 4)

by Irish Winters

  “Not knifed. Iraqi guards shot me. Killed some of my squad.” I think. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes. It was getting harder to focus or breathe. “Killed my dog too.” I think.

  “Don’t look like no bullet hole to me.” She tugged at the makeshift tourniquet on his leg until it unraveled. “Looks more like someone took a shiv to ya.”

  “No. Iraqi soldiers. I seen ’em. I need to get to my base. It’s where... It’s....” He couldn’t remember where he was going. “You got a radio? A phone? A shopping cart?” Cringing, he focused inward at the illogical question he’d just blurted. A shopping cart? Really? Am I losing my ever-loving mind?

  “I got water.” She pulled a plastic bottle out of thin air. Without asking if he wanted it, she unscrewed the cap and pressed it to his lips.

  He clutched the bottle and sucked it dry. Best drink in the world is the first one after a day in the scorching desert. It soothed all the way down his throat and into his empty stomach. Nothing tasted better.

  “You want more?” She tossed the empty plastic aside, still squatting on her haunches in front of him. “I can get it for you.”

  He nodded.

  Once again she moved in, her hand to his forehead. “You’re burning up. You need a doctor. Can you walk?”

  “Nah,” he murmured, his energy fading fast. “Need to rest awhile. Then I’ll leave. What tunnel is this, anyway?”

  “Don’t matter.” She moved alongside, her grubby gloves skimming up his arm and down to his wrist. “Where’d you get your watch? Looks expensive.”

  He lifted his arm to see what she was jabbering about. By hell, she was right. A real nice gold watch hung on his wrist. “You want it?” That seemed fair. After all, she had given him water. He unfastened the timepiece and handed it over.

  The oddest expression slithered across Miriam’s face. It wasn’t so much delight as enlightenment. Greedily, she snatched the watch from his fingertips. A lighter flickered to life in her other hand. She turned the watch over, her eyes bright in the flame, licking her lips like she might taste the timepiece. It disappeared into the folds of her skirt.

  “Sure you can’t walk?” She scrambled to her feet.

  “Don’t think so,” he muttered, but she was determined he try.

  Miriam linked her arm through his, pulling him to his feet. The woman was stronger and bonier than she looked. “Come on. Try. Get up. I’ll help you.”

  “No,” he argued. “Let me be.”

  “You got to move,” she insisted, leaning over him with her nose stuck in his face. “You can’t stay this close to the exit. There’s dangerous folks out and about. They’ll kill you just for looking at ’em.”

  Prickles of caution poked at the back of his mind, but she had given him water. How bad could a defenseless old woman be? Harley struggled to his feet, trying hard not to lean too heavily on Miriam for support. When he grabbed his gear bag, she clutched his forearm tighter. Suddenly, she was leaning on him. “That yours? What’s in it?”

  “Stuff.” His leg throbbed more with every step. It didn’t matter if he put weight on it or not, the damned thing hurt. “How far are we going?”

  “Not far,” she crooned. “Just taking you some place nice and safe.”

  Judy had no intention of resting in her plush hotel room. Unexpended frustration had built to a dangerous level of nervous energy. After Alex left, she contacted her credit union to explain her lack of funds. They sent a clerk to the hotel with a replacement debit card, mostly because she told them they would. The department store down the block provided the few articles of clothing she’d need until she could get back into her home. Onto the debit card went a pair of sturdy walking boots and a shoulder handbag, not that she had much to put in it.

  The fact that the FBI maintained possession of the ring she’d intended to give Harley rankled her last nerve. They held her future in their devious hands, and with Harley missing, maybe her life. Who did they think they were to trample her rights? And Agent Holman was it? When she was done with him, the last thing he’d be was a whole man.

  Setting her mental rant against the Bureau aside, she hailed a cab. It was late Saturday evening. She’d deal with the FBI later. Right now she needed to hook up with Mark and Zack. Once inside the cab, she directed him to take her back toward the area of her apartment while she placed a call to Mark’s cell phone.

  He sounded out of breath when he answered. “Hey, Judy. I heard Alex got you out of jail. Good. What’s up?”

  “Give me your exact location. I’m ready to help.”

  “I’d rather you not do that.”

  “Tell me where you are, Mark.” She kept her tone crisp and irritated. He needed to know she meant business. “Let’s not make this more difficult than it already is.”

  “No. I’d rather not. You need to—”

  “Listen. I’m not asking, I’m telling. Either I search for Harley with you, or I’m going out alone. It’s all the same to me.”

  The cab driver turned around at her stark authoritative tone.

  “You are not, I repeat, you are not to come down here,” Mark shot back at her. “This is no place for a woman. The last thing I need is—”

  Of all the sexist things for him to say! She hit the end call button on her cell phone, fed up with the whole damned world of men who thought they knew better and needed to protect her. Rampant anxiety far outweighed her last shred of patience. Sitting in the cab didn’t help. She’d waited all day to do something while the FBI played their games. Enough was enough! Mentally cursing every male on the planet but Harley, the last thing she needed was an incoming call. It was Mark. Who else?

  “What?”

  “Let me explain what’s going on out here.” His voice was calmer, but she sensed the steel in his words. “We’ve witnessed a stabbing that has nothing to do with Harley. The police are rounding up the instigators, but Zack and me have been kinda busy. I’m sorry. I should have explained things more accurately when you—”

  “Where are you?”

  “In the abandoned rail house off Figaro Avenue. We’ve got Alex’s dogs tracking Harley’s scent. They led us here, so we are on his trail, but we witnessed the stabbing not two minutes after we arrived on scene. Two thugs ambushed an older man. I’m not telling you to go home, Judy, but I’d really appreciate not having to worry about you down here.”

  “You need to understand something too, Mark. I’ve handled homeless and vagrant people for years. I’m as capable out there with you and Zack as I am in the emergency room.”

  “This is not a nice, sterile emergency room,” Mark growled back at her, firm and reasonable as he made his point. “But if you’re determined, then come prepared. Bring a flak jacket and steel-toed boots. There are needles and blades all over the ground, not to mention a few drunks and dopers who look more dead than alive. Police are combing through the building searching for the—”

  “Why, Mark? Why’d the dogs lead you to that particular building?”

  His previous words finally registered, but her question was met with silence. He had his hand over the mouthpiece to his phone. Every word was muffled. At last, he came back to the line, shouting over sirens and a heavy engine in the background. “Listen—”

  The connection went dead. Judy stared at the call-ended message on her phone’s screen, undecided if he’d hung up on her to get rid of her, or if he’d truly been disconnected.

  As an RN, she’d seen it all: stabbings, axe wounds, chain saw injuries, suicides, drug overdoses, living nightmares, you name it. But tonight it was Harley. She wanted to be the one who found him. She needed her hands on him.

  Her phone rang again.

  “Judy.” It was Mark breathing heavily in her ear.

  “What?” she bit out, unable to be civil with the fear ratcheting up her throat.

  “You do understand he’s going to need medical help when we find him, don’t you?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Where
would you prefer we take him?”

  “Washington Central.”

  “Washington? Great. I needed to be sure.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” She backed off her demand to join the search. Mark did sound like he and Zack had their hands full.

  “We found his jacket, Judy. That’s what the dogs located, but... he wasn’t there. We searched the place until the police showed up. Then someone started a fire... and now the fire department’s here. It’s a free for all. The dogs... are on his scent again. Me and Zack are trying to keep up.”

  “Are you running?” Judy finally realized what was going on.

  “Yeah, but... I’m not... doing it very... well.” It sounded like he’d stopped.

  She wanted to cry. Hindering Mark and Zack’s efforts was not what she’d intended. “I should never have called. It’s just that—”

  “No, you’re fine. Take it easy.” He gasped for air. “You’re worried... like the rest of us. It’s okay. You can... always call me. I’m following two of the best noses in the country right now, and… I’ve got to keep up. These dogs are really something. This is all a game to them. He’s another big dog as far as they’re concerned.”

  “He does turn into a kid when he’s around them.” Her voice cracked. Mark Houston had just reduced her from rude and demanding to the frightened woman she really was. He was as bad as Alex, turning the tables on her before she knew what happened.

  “Don’t worry. We’re going to find him. We’ve already found his jacket. He’s close. Stay by your phone. I’ll be calling.” Mark’s last words to her were rushed and abrupt. “Gotta go.”

  The phone went dead. She sat staring at it, scared and angry. This was not how she lived her life, protected and safe in the background. No, she was a frontlines kind of a nurse. She wanted to be with Mark and Zack when they found Harley, to hold him and doctor him and tell him she loved him. And now she might not get the chance.

  A sob ambushed her. She covered her mouth, ashamed at her weakness. Nurses don’t cry. They’re the strong ones who hold everyone else’s hands when the world is falling apart. They’re the dynamos in the medical profession, able to read doctors’ minds, anticipate worst case scenarios, and ensure proper medical procedure gets followed. Only now, her world had turned upside down, and her heart was breaking.

  The cabbie’s kind eyes met hers in the rearview mirror.

  Judy stifled her emotions. “Change of plans. Take me back to Alexandria.”

  Twelve

  Mother stood at her boss’s door debating how to break more bad news. She’d exhausted all leads. The facial recognition program had returned zero matches. Not a single security tape showed even the hint of the blue Ford which only meant the driver had kept to side roads and residential areas when he made his way out of town. Ember was still running the fingerprints, but the way everything was going, that seemed doubtful too. Whoever kidnapped Kelsey, they were good.

  About the only hope the TEAM had left was the picture Mother had released to the news and police of the man holding Kelsey. She’d cropped the photo so Kelsey’s portion didn’t show. The world did not need to see her in that condition—just him. The freak.

  Mother lifted her hand to rap on the door, but paused. Telling her boss she’d failed was hard. Alex was a loaded spring. It wouldn’t take much to push him over the edge.

  Steeling her nerve, she pressed her ear to the door in case he was on a call. She’d never let it stop her before, but today was different. There was no sense walking into a frag zone if she could avoid it. Hmm. She heard nothing. Opting for the gentler approach, she turned the knob instead of knocking and peered past the door.

  The second her eyes settled on him, she calmed. Bad news could wait. Her over the top, very domineering boss was stretched out in his chair, his long legs in front of him and his head tipped back on the neck rest. Sound asleep. Poor Alex. Both eyes were definitely shut. He didn’t even snore he was so beat. The quiet, steady breaths confirmed he was running on empty and out like a light.

  His suit jacket draped the hook of his corner coat rack, but it sure looked wrinkled. She looked again. Why was he dressed so professionally on a Saturday? This man needed to learn how to relax in the worst way.

  As quietly as possible, she shut his door and tiptoed back to her and Ember’s shared workspace. “Found anything yet?”

  “I hope you didn’t tell him we’d have it by tonight,” Ember warned as she glanced at Mother. “The program is still running. It takes awhile to match fingerprints.”

  “I didn’t tell him anything. Poor guy’s sleeping,” Mother whispered as if she could possibly disturb her boss at this distance. “You should see him.”

  “Aww. Really? I feel so bad for him. Judy too.”

  Mother did not reply. Ember still grieved for Todd. She was another one standing too near the edge.

  “We’re running out of time.” Mother glanced at the digital clock on the wall. The TEAM was on the diminishing hope side of those vital forty-eight hours.

  “We’ve done all we can.”

  “How did the terrain matching program go?”

  “It’s still working, but I have to be honest. There wasn’t enough detail in any of those photos to match terrain with.”

  “Then turn it off,” Mother advised. “I knew it was a long shot.”

  “Have you heard from Roy and Connor?”

  “They called in an hour ago. Guess they’ve taken a boatload of photos from one end of the mall to the other hoping something will show up. Oh yeah, and they climbed the Washington Monument too.” Mother brushed a curl of white hair out of her eyes. “Know what? I’m tired of staring at these screens and not seeing anything. You’d think with all the satellites in orbit one of them would have snapped a frame of something helpful.”

  “It’s been an awful day,” Ember agreed. “Where’s David?”

  “I’m sure he’s following some kind of lead. He’ll call in when he needs to.”

  “Are you giving up on us, ladies?” Junior Agent Rory Dennison asked from his post inside Mother’s workspace. He and Junior Agent Eric Reynolds had volunteered to assist. Both were hard at work scrutinizing whatever Mother told them to analyze. Rory was dissecting satellite imagery at one side of the desk while Eric handled traffic cam footage on the other.

  Rory swiveled around. He blinked hard, squeezing his face into a grimace and shaking his head. With wavy short, black hair, the guy was a killer in the good looks department. “Sorry. The eyestrain is murder after hours of staring at these monitors. You’re both a couple of fuzz balls.”

  Ember offered a weak chuckle. “Gee thanks. You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

  He leaned back in his chair, still stretching the kinks out of his neck and his arms over his head. “You know what I meant.”

  “I do.”

  Mother caught the wistful note in her assistant’s voice, but she also caught the tenderness in Rory’s deep blue eyes. Was he sweet on Ember? The second he caught her watching, he turned back to his monitor. She filed that interesting observation away for another day when she had more time to analyze this hunk from the Nebraska cornfields. All she knew was he’d served in the USMC the same as his father and grandfather before him. Hmm. A little Motherly research might be in order. Later.

  “Well, I’m not giving up,” she declared to divert his attention. “Wish I knew where else to look though. Maybe we should join Mark and Zack. At least they’re getting closer to finding Harley.”

  “No.” Rory turned in his chair, shaking his head adamantly, his eyes once more on Ember. “You gals do not want to be in that part of town. Alex needs you here, not worrying if you’re safe or not. He’s got enough on his mind.”

  Mother played indifferent, but Rory’s statement had been directed at Ember. Was he worried about her assistant? It sure looked like it.

  Eric yawned, his eyes still glued on his assigned array of traffic cams and security foo
tage. “Anyone want to call in for pizza or something? It’s almost dinnertime. I’m hungry.”

  Mother glanced at Ember. “I haven’t eaten all day. Have you?”

  “No one has. I’ll bet Alex hasn’t eaten since last night either. Let’s order out.”

  “Pizza it is.” Mother picked up her phone and hit her trusty speed dial. “I’ll order sandwiches and drinks too. Anything else?”

  “Garlic breadsticks would be good,” Eric requested. “Dipping sauce. Extra marinara.”

  “I’m good.” Rory had his hand in his back pocket reaching for his wallet. “Whatever you ladies decide is fine with me. Just tell me how much I owe.”

  “Oh, no. You’re not buying.” Mother shook her head at his attempt to pay. “Dinner at the office goes on the expense account. Your money’s no good here.”

  Ember’s computer program beeped interrupting the dinner order. It was her fingerprint query submitted through the local police department into AFIS, the Automated Fingerprint Identification System.

  Eric leaned back in his chair to peer at data displayed on Ember’s screen. “Remind me. Do we know an Ethel Durrant?”

  Mother dropped the phone. “Are you kidding?”

  “Why would I be kidding?” He straightened in his seat.

  Ember bolted upright. “Wow. Really? Ethel Durrant?”

  “What’s going on?” Rory asked. “Who’s she?”

  Mother gulped, her eyes glued to Ember’s. Did the world just drop out from under The TEAM? It sure felt like it. She couldn’t swallow with her heart hammering a thunderous beat in her throat. Not Ethel Durrant. It couldn’t be.

  “You’re scaring me, and I’m a Marine. I don’t scare easy,” Rory said. “Spit it out.”

  Mother gulped. “Ethel Durrant. Should I wake Alex? Should I tell him?” Her eyes flitted to Rory and Eric. They looked lost. Only Ember knew what she was talking about. “What should I do?”

  Ember pointed to Alex’s office. “Go wake him up. You’ve got to tell him.”

  “Tell him what?” Rory demanded.