Still, it didn’t hurt to look.
A hunting store caught his eye. Thousands of knives of every size and color. Oh, yeah. He went inside and started looking for new knives for his dad and two brothers and a pocket knife with lots of handy gadgets for his mom. Two shops and he’d be done.
Happy Christmas.
BOOM!
An explosion reverberated from the amusement park rides. What the…? Then the sound of shots being fired. Terrorists or heist? Jed reached for his gun, swore when he realized he wasn’t wearing it. He’d left the SIG locked in the car because he’d wanted to take a whirl on the roller coaster for old times’ sake—something him and Bobby and Liam had always done as teenagers. He hadn’t wanted to be armed with a deadly weapon while experiencing g-force.
He flashed his shield at the store’s security guy. “Call 911 and mall security. Any way out back there?” He pointed to the hidden door at the rear of the shop.
The guy nodded even as he held his cell to his ear. They made their way toward the back of the store. A woman in a black suit, probably the manager, put a key in the lock.
“Hang on. Got any hunting knives behind the counter?” Who knew what lay behind that door? He wanted a weapon. Jed’s car was in the parking lot on the opposite side of the mall, otherwise he’d have gone for his SIG. He eyed the glass cases on the walls. He could smash one open but didn’t want to draw that much attention to himself or the other people hiding here.
The security guy looked at him uncertainly.
Jed thrust his badge closer to the guy’s face. “Off duty FBI Agent. Get me a damn knife…now!” A blade wasn’t much against a sub-machine-gun but it beat the hell out of the plastic toy he currently held. He placed the box on the floor. He’d pick it up later. Hopefully.
Bullets sprayed along the corridor outside, and more sounded from levels above them. People crouched in terrified silence. Piercing screams told him civilians were dying and he was ill-prepared to save any of them until he could get a gun. The security guard hustled behind the desk and handed Jed a knife with a six-inch blade. Better.
“What do you want me to do?” the guy asked.
“The mall has its own security, correct?”
The guy nodded but looked uncertain. “Security Center is on this floor. Over near where that first explosion came from. No one answered when I tried to call them.”
Crap. If these guys took out the security nerve center before they attacked they were highly organized and deadly serious about doing as much damage as possible. Or stealing a massive amount of money with total disregard for public safety.
Jed ran his eyes over the ten or so people milling around uncertainly. “Get them out of here and tell the cops outside what you know. Which other stores along this block have rear exits?”
“Just us and the restaurant at the end of the row. Once you’re in the corridor, there are exits to the parking garages and the loading bays used for deliveries.”
Jed nodded. “Leave the premises ASAP but watch for shooters on the outside. Tell cops there’s an—” he tested the point of the knife with his thumb “—almost unarmed FBI agent inside.”
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the local FBI office. Busy signal. He texted his boss instead and shoved the cell back in his pocket. So much for R&R.
They cautiously unlocked the door at the back of the shop and checked the corridor—clear. The security guard took the lead. Civilians started to pour out, hopefully on their way to safety.
A black shadow passed the front of the store and Jed held his breath. It was the asshole who’d knocked over the pretty redhead. Everyone in the shop froze and then started hustling faster as the guy slowly turned toward them, shouldering an assault rifle and aiming it right between Jed’s eyes. Jed had no choice. He threw himself through the door after the others. He slammed it shut as bullets tore through the walls beside him.
“Run.” He waved the others frantically in the opposite direction. Held his position as he listened closely for footsteps. He’d switched into attack mode and he’d done this sort of drill a million times over. He’d just never done it armed with nothing except a blade, and surrounded by potentially thousands of innocent civilians who could get caught in the crossfire.
CHAPTER TWO
Vivi quietly closed the sliding door of the cupboard, leaving it slightly ajar so Michael wouldn’t be in complete darkness. Satisfied no one would see him unless they actually opened the cupboard door, she peered up over the service desk.
The mall had gone eerily quiet as if everyone was holding their breath, hiding. No sign of the shooters. She had a horrible vision of the gunmen lying in wait for the unsuspecting shoppers trying to escape. The rides still flashed with bright lights and garish displays, but they’d all stopped moving. Her eyes rose to the roller coaster in the distance. If they’d been on that ride there was a good chance they’d already be dead. Her legs trembled at the awfulness of this moment. She’d seen this stuff on the news, but had never expected to get caught up in it herself. Especially not with her child in tow.
Small pockets of people crouched and hid around the store. She met the terrified eyes of a middle-aged man who clutched a little girl to his side. His eyes seemed to beg her for help but what was she supposed to do? She had no training, no weapons. She nodded to him anyway. She’d do whatever she could to get them out.
At the back door of the shop she used the reflection in some of the windows opposite to look for the bad guys. She stilled when she saw the shooter prowling some distance away down the corridor. The toddler on the floor in front of her started writhing and trying to get free of his mother’s unresponsive arm. Vivi’s eyes flashed back to the shooter. He went into one of the shops and she braced herself to move. Gunshots rang out from inside the store he’d entered. Don’t think about it. She ran across to the little boy, dragged him from beneath his mother and picked him up. But a glance in the stroller showed the baby, all pretty in a pink bonnet, eyes wide open, and smiling.
Oh, hell. She couldn’t leave a baby.
Vivi placed the kid on the floor and he grabbed onto her leg. She pulled away the blankets to undo the straps on the baby harness. Her fingers shook and couldn’t manipulate the hard plastic snaps. She kept looking at the shop where the bad guy had disappeared. More shots. Her blood pounded through her ears so loudly she was deafened to everything but her own erratic heartbeat. Finally she got the catch free and eased the baby onto her shoulder. Then she took the toddler’s hand and urged him to run to the clothes shop immediately in front of them.
She quickly scanned the interior of the store. It was empty of people which gave her hope for escape. She headed through to the changing rooms at the back. The door to the storeroom was firmly locked. She knocked gently and whispered, “Is anyone in there? I have a baby out here. Can you let me in?”
No sound came from behind the door, but the weight of fear hit her in a wave. Dammit. She couldn’t blame people for not putting themselves at risk but…
The baby snuggled against her shoulder and started gurgling. Her heart twisted with grief for the mother and for the others who’d already died, for the cruel needless waste of human life. Who were these monsters? What did they want?
She was torn about her decision to leave Michael. So torn she could barely function, but she had to. He was hidden and hopefully safe until she found a way out of here. Being in small compressed spaces comforted him, the tighter the better. But what if something happened to him? Or to her? Doubt and uncertainty whirled inside her brain until her heart raced as if she was about to have a heart attack. She forced herself to calm down. Yoga breaths. Don’t let these bastards scare you to death.
She opened every unlocked door in the store, but found only small storage spaces. No escape. She went back into the main entrance, crouched low behind the clothes rails. The little tyke held onto her leg in an unbreakable grip and moved like a third leg. She stroked a hand over his curly hair. He was going
to be traumatized for life.
Using the reflections in the glass, she once again scanned the corridor. No one was visible. She ran into a restaurant next door and ducked inside. It was dimly lit with lots of alcoves. Probably a good spot to hide, but she didn’t see anyone, which gave her more hope that there was a back way out of this hellhole. If there was, she’d run to get Michael.
She cradled the baby carefully against her shoulder, darting looks around every corner before rushing forward. She reached the kitchen and was hit by a weird combination of smells. Food cooking on the gas burners, mixed with the stench of violent death.
Three bodies lay twisted on the ground. Oh, no.
She spun around, hoisted the toddler into her other arm as she stepped over the corpses to check out the back of the kitchen near two massive walk-in freezers.
Where the hell were the cops?
The sensation of sticky blood on her stockinged feet made her want to throw up. Her arms ached from the weight of the children, but she gritted her teeth and kept moving. She spotted a door with a fire exit sign. That was it!
The metallic click of a weapon had her freezing and turning around slowly. The man who’d knocked her over earlier was pointing a matte-black assault rifle at her face. She clutched the baby tighter, put the little boy on the floor, and tried to push him behind her leg.
The gunman was tall, over six feet four; Arabic features, small, hard ebony eyes in a round face that couldn’t have been over thirty. His olive skin was free of sweat. No visible sign of remorse.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
His nostrils flared.
She asked him again in Arabic.
His eyes widened and then swept over her uncovered hair. She saw him draw in a deep breath and knew he’d fire on the exhale, so she threw herself to the floor behind the kitchen counter. She tried to shelter the baby who started to cry at the sudden jarring movement and blast of noise as bullets ripped into the wall behind where she’d been standing just seconds ago. The direction of the bullets followed as he started walking toward them and she scrambled and dragged the boy and the baby along the floor by their padded jackets as she tried to escape. Her nylons made her slip on the bloody floor. She sprawled and scrambled, clawing for purchase. The gunman came around the corner of the kitchen bench and she closed her eyes and braced herself for a bullet. Instead she heard a grunt and more deafening gunfire pelting the metal in the kitchen. Then silence punctuated by heavy breathing. She opened her eyes but no one was there.
She held still, unsure what had happened.
“He’s dead. Come on out,” said an oddly familiar voice.
She climbed to her feet and there stood the guy who’d helped her earlier in the mall. A knife in his hand dripped crimson droplets of blood onto the tile floor. The terrorist lay twitching at his feet. Her stomach turned, relief competing with horror. Her rescuer grabbed the bad guy’s rifle, searching through the man’s pockets for more weapons and ammunition which he shoved in his jacket pockets.
“Thank you. Again.” Her voice was rough as crushed gravel. If it hadn’t been for him she and the children would be dead.
He nodded. “FBI Special Agent Jed Brennan at your service, ma’am.”
He wasn’t just handsome; he’d just taken on superhero status.
“Very happy to make your acquaintance, Special Agent Brennan. You saved our lives.” The baby started crying, and she joggled her gently in her arms and kissed her sweet forehead. She walked towards the FBI agent. Now she could go get Michael, and they could get out of here. She handed him the baby. He handed her straight back.
“You don’t understand,” she told him. “I need to go get my son. I left him hiding in the cupboard beneath the cash registers in the toy store.”
He frowned in confusion. “So who’re these guys?” He pointed to the toddler and baby.
“I found them outside. Their mother was shot.” Her voice caught. She tried to hand him the baby again, but he took a step away. OK, less superhero, more federal law enforcement officer—another brand of male she’d dealt with in the past. She dared not raise her voice in case she attracted the attention of more bad guys, but she was desperate. “Please. I need to get my son out of there. Other people too.”
“How many others?”
“At least fifteen, maybe twenty in that store alone, many children.”
The sound of footsteps rushing toward them had the FBI guy pushing her and the children behind him and them both crouching behind the kitchen counters. The middle-aged man who’d caught her eye in the toy store came tearing into the kitchen with a whole swathe of people running behind him. They crashed to a halt when they saw Special Agent Brennan holding a gun.
“He’s OK. He’s with the FBI,” she assured them.
The faces of the scared shoppers relaxed slightly, but the terror at the situation remained. They were far from safe.
She scanned the crowd, then frowned. “Where’s my son?”
The gray-haired man stepped forward. “I tried to get him to come but he wouldn’t budge.”
Her heart sank. Oh, no. She’d made him promise not to move.
“We need to get out of here.” Agent Brennan spoke quietly but made it an order. He eased open the fire exit door and peered down the corridor. “This way. Quickly. Keep your hands in the air in case you meet cops who think you’re part of this terrorist gang. Keep your eyes peeled for shooters.”
Vivi tried to pass the baby to another woman, but the kid wouldn’t let go of her and started crying even louder.
“What are you doing?” the fed asked impatiently. Those chocolate eyes were now as black and cold as obsidian.
“I need to get my son. I promised him I wouldn’t be long.”
“If that baby keeps crying you’re putting all these people’s lives at risk.” The sharp gleam of intelligence in those eyes reminded her of Michael. “Let’s get everyone here out and then we’ll come back and get your son, OK?” He tried to put a little warmth into his voice.
The fed was manipulating her and right now she hated him for it. She didn’t buy it, but the idea one of the bad guys might find them all because the baby was crying wasn’t something she could live with. “You don’t understand, my son won’t go anywhere without me.” She soothed the baby, who quieted. “So if you’re lying to me…”
“I never lie to beautiful women.” The brief flash of smile was not a compliment. It was a move-your-ass-now-before-I-make-you smile.
She wasn’t intimidated. The only thing she cared about was getting Michael out safely. She opened her mouth to argue, but was swept along by the crowd. The little boy grabbed her leg again, and she scooped him up even though he was heavy as hell. Her biceps burned. She found herself tucked between all the other terrified people as they ran down the long corridor toward the parking garage. Damn it. She gritted her teeth. OK. She’d get these kids out and go back for her own baby. Five minutes, tops. Please God keep him safe until she got back. Her body shook from shock and exertion, but she concentrated on getting the kids out. Then she’d go back. Then she’d save her son.
A wave of fresh, cold air hit when they got to the parking garage; her bare feet immediately frozen against the unforgiving concrete. Jed Brennan dangled the weapon he’d taken from the bad guy by the strap and held his gold shield in the other hand.
Her arms felt like they were about to drop off. Shouts rose, and men in black uniforms herded them toward a cordoned off area. The cops held them at gunpoint and made them put their hands on their heads. Didn’t they understand they were victims here? The babies both started screaming when someone took them from her. They were safe now so it didn’t really matter how much noise they made, though it tugged at her heartstrings. She hoped they had a loving family to take care of them.
She whirled toward Jed Brennan, and he was watching her with those keen eyes as black as midnight.
“Let’s go get my son,” she urged him.
A
police officer pushed her toward the others but she stood firm and argued. “That FBI agent said I could bring out those two children and then go back for my own son.”
“The fed isn’t in charge and no one is going into that mall who ain’t law enforcement, ma’am. You’re staying here until we can verify your identity.”
“Special Agent Brennan!” she started shouting. He was talking to someone who looked like they were in charge. His expression went carefully blank and then he turned his back on her. He wasn’t handsome any longer. He was just another guy who’d lied to get what he wanted, and then walked away on his vows.
She shouted louder. “You promised I could go back for my son!” Rage filled her and she tried to dodge the cop on guard duty. Next moment she was on the ground, chin grazing the wet, dirty pavement as her wrists were cuffed. “You lied to me. If anything happens to my son, I’ll… Stop. Stop!” she hissed at the cop who was manhandling her. “There’s something you need to know about Michael!” She broke off because nothing would matter if anything happened to her beautiful son. Brennan looked at her again as the cop hauled her off the ground and started pushing her away from the mall. She didn’t let go of the FBI agent’s gaze, not even when she tripped and fell. “Get him out of there, please, or so help me God…”
***
Jed couldn’t filter the guilt or the hysterical redhead out of his brain even as he tried to concentrate on the update from the commander of the SWAT team. The fact he’d lied to her to get her out of the mall shouldn’t bother him, but she’d left her son behind and the kid was in extreme danger. That made his insides ache.
Push it aside. Don’t let empathy for the victims cloud your judgment—his boss’s words were good advice. Hell, he was trying.
The terrorists had taken out the Security Center first and all cameras were down so they had no eyes inside the mall except for a couple of armed security guards who were pinned down in the northwest corner, and trapped shoppers who were tweeting the cops for help. Police had advised them to stay off social media in case the bad guys were also monitoring it. Not a good idea to state your exact location to the world when someone with a loaded gun wanted to kill you. There were reports of multiple casualties and at least seven gunmen, probably more. Two on each floor and one hosing down the transit center with an assault rifle; waiting for people to try and escape that way, or for the cops to move in. Many people had gotten out. Many more were still trapped inside—like the redhead’s son. His name was Michael, apparently, because she wasn’t done yelling at Jed yet.
Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2) Page 2
