Deadly Pursuit (SCVC Taskforce) (25 page)

BOOK: Deadly Pursuit (SCVC Taskforce)
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Shit
, Cooper thought.
This is not what I meant when I told her to have courage
.

Thomas was up and moving as fast as Cooper. The two were neck and neck, but Cooper reached Celina a split second sooner. Thomas raised his gun, ready to cover Cooper’s back.

Cooper picked her up by the waist and twirled her around so his back was toward the sniper rifle.

All the other agents, including the coroner, were in guarded positions. Guns were drawn and covering Cooper as he ran Celina back to the truck, set her firmly down in the dirt, and crouched behind the vehicle, pulling her down with him. They were both breathing hard.

Celina stared at the ground.

“What the hell was that?” Thomas spit at Celina. He was back at the side of the truck, too, both hands on his gun pointed over the hood. His hands shook slightly.

Yep, his new partner was in love with Celina. Waterfall tramping like he’d never experienced before.

A small sound came from her lips and Cooper glanced at her. She was jerking in air, hyperventilating as she tried to get control of her emotions.

“No one…else….dies,” she said, looking up at Cooper. Something had definitely changed in her eyes. They were hard, no longer as innocent as they had been minutes before.

He patted her leg. “Okay.” He really didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to comfort her somehow, but there was nothing he could do. She’d just challenged Emilio to a one-on-one confrontation.

She nodded her head. “Except Emilio.” Her eyes, trance-like again, stared at the ground. “He’s…mine.”

Cooper patted her leg again and realized his own hands were shaking.

 

Chapter Twenty-five

 

Carlsbad

 

Cooper’s house was vintage midcentury-modern Southern California. Nestled in the side of a steep granite cliff, the 1950’s one-story looked over scrub brush and palm trees at the bottom. Its roofline blended with the texture of the cliff rising behind it. As the Tacoma wound its way up the inclined drive, the sun was setting in the West, orange and pink waves bathing the terracotta stones around the front French-style doors.

It had been hours since Celina had seen Chief Forester’s body. After Emilio’s phone call, the manhunt had kicked into high gear. A helicopter flew over the open ground and the nearby hills. ATV’s and dune buggies covered the desert area, searching for any trail. Forensics teams covered every square foot radiating out from Forester’s body in a grid-by-grid search.

Sara Rios arrived, taking Celina on foot to examine the site believed to be ground zero. They assumed Valquis had been the one to shoot at Cooper, but they weren’t sure. Either way, both men had been present, so Sara and Celina searched on hands and knees with at least a dozen other agents until they uncovered a hole in the ground…an opening to a tunnel.

The Londano mafia as well as others had used tunnels under the U.S.-Mexican border for years. Structurally unsound and too small for shipments of drugs, the tunnels’ main purpose was for escape. Emilio had planned well. He’d brought Chief Forester to that specific area to kill him and lie in wait for the multi-agency gathering to take place before him. Celina’s presence had been an unexpected but pleasant surprise and he’d used it to its full-court press advantage.

By the time Sara and Celina found the entrance to the tunnel, Emilio had an hour lead time on them. Not knowing where the tunnel ended, not knowing what was waiting for anyone brave enough to crawl inside, a tactical unit had been called in. Another hour wait.

The two men who’d entered on the Mexico side of the border lost radio contact with those above ground at least a dozen times. Every time their end went silent, Celina’s stomach cramped. Every time radio contact was restored, she hugged herself.
No one else dies
became her knew mantra.

The tunnel spanned north less than ten miles, ending abruptly at a cave-in. Consensus was that Emilio had intentionally caused the cave-in, but Celina held out hope he’d been crushed in it.

Back in Carlsbad now, Cooper drove into the carport, shut off the SUV. He’d brought her here, to his home, to stay the night. He hadn’t asked her permission, hadn’t so much as discussed it as an option. He’d simply loaded her into the massive black vehicle and driven back across the border.

Late afternoon traffic between San Diego and Carlsbad gridlocked sporadically, making the drive back to the surf town slow. Neither of them spoke, comfortable with the silence that enveloped them, but lost in their own thoughts of Emilio Londano’s and his partner’s whereabouts.

Celina sat looking at the house while Cooper grabbed her bags out of the back. He came to her side, opened her door, and gave her his hand to help her out. Bobby Dyer had told her once that Cooper never invited anyone to his house. It was his private space, his personal sanctuary where he balanced out the demands of his career. Bobby had been there, of course, but not the others on the taskforce.
He doesn’t mix work and his personal life
, Bobby had once told her.
Just like he doesn’t bring personal stuff to work
.

Celina sat still, ignoring Cooper’s hand. “You shouldn’t have brought me here.”

“I passed the
shouldn’t
line with you a few days ago.”

“There’s a line?”

“Between you and me, yes.” His eyes were so tired, Celina felt sorry for him. “At least there was, until I crossed it in Des Moines.”

“So you brought me home with you because you suddenly realized you’re in love with me?” She tried to sound coy, like she was joking, even though she wasn’t. “This is your knight-in-shining-armor mode? Like at the hospital?”

He simply stared at her.

“Okay, not so much. So why
did
you bring me here?”

“You need a safe place to stay. I need some sleep. So far, I’ve sucked at my bodyguard job, and I intend to step up my game.”

Logical, of course. Celina sighed. “I’ll be safer here than I was at the hotel?”

“Yes.” Cooper grabbed her good arm and guided her off the seat. “But not if we continue to stand out here and yak.”

Cooper led her through the side entrance off the carport, which brought them into an open kitchen and dining area. A modern glass and steel dining table sat in front of a floor-to-ceiling window. It looked out on fichus trees, palms, and ferns. A fifty-gallon fish tank held various brightly colored fish, some as big as Celina’s hand.

Cooper set down her bags on the floor, pressed keys on a security alarm system pad. Moving to the kitchen, he flipped a light on over the sink, offered her a bottle of water. Celina took it and leaned on the counter while he grabbed a second bottle for himself. In silence again, they both drank.

“Thought that was you.” Bobby Dyer zoomed into the kitchen in a motorized wheelchair.

“Bobby!” Celina threw her arms around him, bending down to hug him as best she could with her water in one hand and the other immobilized.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Bobby pulled her tight. “About time you came to see me.”

Celina stood again, motioned at his face. “Nice beard. You look like Colin Farrell in
The New World
.”

He rubbed his chin with a hand. “Exactly what I’ve been telling Eliza. She says Ferrell’s still hotter. Can you believe that?” He lowered his eyebrows and dropped his chin. “I’ve even got the tormented glare down pat. What do you think?”

Celina laughed, forgetting for a moment. “I think Colin better move over.”

“Smart girl,” he said to Cooper.

“So
not
a girl,” Celina countered.

Cooper drank more water. “What’s the latest?”

Bobby grew serious. “Emilio’s in the wind, so is Val. Fingerprints from the hotel and the apartment confirm both men were there. The rifle he used to shoot at you, Coop, was stolen. Identification number filed off, but ATF believes it came from a shipment they confiscated over a year ago in El Paso. Same make and model as a dozen others. Our Mexican
compadres
are mining the tunnel to see where it leads, but that will take days. Meanwhile,” he turned his wheelchair around and said over his shoulder, “I’ve got some new toys for you.”

Down a hallway, Celina followed Cooper who was following Bobby. She glimpsed a stone fireplace in the living room, which was done in chocolates and blues. A bar and lounge area came next. The glass doors led outside to a pool. A master bedroom filled with guitars and surfboards made her gawk.

Cooper cleared his throat and she hurried to catch up. The room Bobby led them to was replete with high-tech gadgets. Windowless, it was part recording studio, part computer hub, and part security center. Dark paneling covered the walls. Hanging from the walls in a semi-circle were flat screen TV’s showing camera shots from around the house and driveway.

Acoustic tiles overhead flattened Bobby’s voice as he spoke. “Percocet.” He lifted a small brown bottle off the table beside him and handed it to Celina. “For pain management. One pill every six to eight hours. You can supplement Motrin in between doses if you need it.”

The afternoon had been full of the search for Emilio. Celina had used that as her pain management. It had made her feel better to be hunting Emilio, rather than waiting for him to show up.

On the endless ride back to Carlsbad, she’d felt the swelling and sharp pains in her wrist catch up with her, and had almost asked Cooper to stop at the drug store for aspirin.

“Thank you.” She took the bottle and skipped the lecture about sharing prescriptions. “Have you heard how Ronni’s doing?”

“Her condition’s improved. Before you left the Tijuana site, Coop called me and asked me to check on her. You can call her any time now. Doctor said she could talk to you.”

Bobby held up a cell phone, “And you can do it with this new phone, properly bugged and wired and encrypted so Emilio can’t locate you when you use it, but if he does, I can trace a location he’s calling from faster than with your old phone. I got most of your address book entered already.” He smiled at her. “The only thing left to do is set up your speed-dial numbers.”

Celina was touched. She slipped the flat black case into the back pocket of her jeans. “Thank you. Does Ronni remember what happened?”

Bobby shook his head. “It may be a few days or even longer before her short-term memories come back.”

He pointed at a line of Motorola two-way radios docked in separate stations. “Next, we have these babies. One for each of us. I borrowed these from my friend in the Army. Each SC700R has a range of twelve miles even in backcountry where cell phones won’t work. Rechargeable with battery backup. This call button,” he pressed a red half-moon and the other radios emitted a high-pitched squeal, “gives an emergency alarm. Trouble finds you, hit the button. The others give a readout of your GPS coordinates.”

Handing Celina and Cooper each one, Bobby stuck one on his belt buckle. The fourth, he pointed at. “I’ll give this one to Thomas when he shows up.”

“And why do we need these?” Celina asked.

“Easier and faster communication,” Cooper told her. “Ever try dialing a phone with your left hand? Even 911 is a bitch with a broken wrist. Cell phone towers go down or you’re out of their limited range, you’re in trouble. If you get into a situation, you need either one of us, hit the button. We’ll find you. Of course that is, if you’re in range.”

Celina looked back and forth between the two men in front of her. “You think Emilio and Valquis will track me here, to this house.”

“They’re getting bold,” Bobby said. “You ditched the tracking device Em had on you but he still has a lot of resources, his biggest one being Valquis. It’s too risky not to take every safety precaution.”

“The net around him is growing smaller,” Cooper added. “Should have had him today.”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” Bobby chanted. “Forget it. We move forward and we do it smart.”

Cooper played with his radio. “We need to figure out how to stop them.”

“Sara showed me the tape of the hotel,” Celina said. “It was definitely Valquis and Emilio.”

Bobby backed up his wheelchair, swiveling it so he was facing a flat screen computer and keyboard. “I’ve got the video from the safe house and the hotel. Let’s watch them together and do some brainstorming.”

Cooper pulled up a chair for Celina, grabbed one for himself. The three sat in silence watching the scenes unfold. Over the next twenty minutes, they rewound, played, discussed, argued. There were moments Celina had to look away from the screen. Look away from Valquis, who still lived in her nightmares. She gingerly touched the bandage on her collarbone. Rubbed her arm.

The alarm system alerted them a car was approaching the house. “Eliza,” Bobby told Cooper. “I sent her for groceries.”

As Cooper took three environmentally friendly bags out of Eliza’s hands in the kitchen, Celina greeted her with a hug. “It’s good to see you,” Eliza said, gently squeezing Celina’s arms as she looked her over from head to toe. Her kind eyes lingered on Celina’s injuries. “How are you holding up?”

Cooper flipped a light switch and under-the-cabinet recessed lights came on. Eliza’s long hair was pulled back in her signature braid. The tiny crow’s feet in the corners of her eyes were visible even in the soft light, but Celina liked them. They reminded her of her mother, whose kind eyes and soft voice were always reassuring.

BOOK: Deadly Pursuit (SCVC Taskforce)
13.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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