Exchange of Fire (16 page)

The SUV slammed into her back corner.

“Fuck.” She clenched the steering wheel as the car spun out of control. She tried to keep her wheels turning with the motion as she let off the gas. Magician gripped the “oh shit” bar and stayed silent as Sandra fought physics for control.

The SUV swerved and bolted down a road that forked off to the right.

“The assassin just broke off,” Magician bellowed. “I can’t see the road he turned on because we’re too busy acting like a teacup in the Mad Hatter ride at Disney World.”

“Talon,”
Cappy snapped.

“Already adjusting,”
Talon replied.

Sandra finally got the car to stop spinning, but her heart still slammed against her rib cage, completely out of control. She straightened and bit back the bile threatening to release.

A horrible thought crossed her mind as her brain stopped sloshing in her skull. “Cappy! The assassin could be going after Grady.”

“That’s why I haven’t left yet, Wraith. Between Talon and myself, we’ve got him covered.”

A black Kawasaki Ninja whizzed past, and her heart leapt at the achingly familiar yet bittersweet sight of her teammate in action, chasing after the asshole. Would he ever forgive her for attempting to leave again? Probably not. Talon didn’t give second chances. In her case, she’d be on the third chance, and that would probably be beyond his capabilities.

“I see you, guys,”
Romeo called through the speakerphone.

Sandra jerked her gaze back front and caught the chrome from the wide grill of the Ford truck heading in her direction. Her fingers spasmed around the wheel. A wall of cop cars weren’t too far behind him.

“Meet me in that gas station on your left,”
Romeo continued.
“Magician, you got your Sonya White alias with you? I didn’t see it in the kit.”

“Yeah, I’ve got it. Never took it out of my purse when we walked off the other job.”

“Good,”
Cappy answered.
“I don’t care how you do it, but get out of this mess and back to Command Central. Magician, you’re not going to be able to stay on, but Romeo, don’t hang up. I want to hear what’s happening.”

“Check.”

“Drugs,” Sandra rushed to say before Magician hung up, slowing the car down since she didn’t have to escape the assassin anymore.

“What?”
Cappy asked.

“Blame it on a drug cartel,” Sandra explained. “Grady’s been hearing word of one moving in from Knoxville. We don’t have to say much, but that should be enough to start with, and plausible since these cops have probably heard the same thing.”

“Excellent,”
Cappy replied.
“Work with that, Romeo and Magician.”

“Check,” they said in unison.

Magician ended the connection and dropped the phone into her purse.

Romeo’s black Ford F150 veered into the station that was now about two hundred yards ahead of her. He jumped out and fished in his back jeans pocket, pulling out a long leather billfold. He raced over to the middle-aged woman filling her gas tank at the pump on the other side and showed her the wallet. She placed a hand on her throat, but he didn’t allow her any more time to react. He gripped her arm and escorted her to the booth located to the side. He held up his billfold again and the young kid inside opened the door.

Both heads disappeared, obviously now seated on the floor, and Romeo jogged back and placed two items on the edge of the truck bed. Sandra couldn’t be sure, but it looked like he’d taken their cell phones. Smart. None of them could really afford to end up on YouTube.

The line of police cars tailing Romeo fanned the lot and far exit to the station. Romeo ignored them, instead motioning Sandra to enter the station and park in front of him.

“Yes, that’s right. My car won’t start, so I’ll need a car for the next week,” Ted Byrnes lied as he paced his bedroom.

“Correct,” he answered the pleasant woman from the rental company. “Can you pick me up as soon as possible? I don’t care in which kind of vehicle, as long as it gets good gas mileage.”

The woman expounded on the wonderful gas-saving selections they had and how it would be no problem for their agent to meet Ted as long as Ted dropped the agent back at the office.

“Great! See you in a half hour.” He hung up and glanced at the time: eleven fifteen a.m. That would make it about twelve fifteen p.m. in North Carolina. He should’ve rented the car yesterday when his gut told him to disappear, but he had hoped he was just being too sensitive. This morning’s call from Victor sealed it.

Without too many stops it was still going to take him over eleven hours to drive to Chicago O’Hare International Airport. Then from there, he’d catch a flight to Charlotte before making his way to Ridge Creek. Living in the middle of bumfuck Kansas did not lend itself to quick or easy escape routes while trying to remain off the radar.

He slapped another layer of button-down shirts in his suitcase and surveyed his bedroom. What was he forgetting? His computer equipment was already packed and waiting by the door. Not that he was taking much. He planned on picking up the bulk of what he’d need once he arrived. The hassle of carrying it to the airport and ensuring its safety was a pain in the ass he didn’t need. The most important items were resting in his carry-on, and the backups to his backups were already making their way cross-country with a courier service. He’d had to schedule their arrival for Tuesday at a Ship-N-Go store in Charlotte because of the holiday, but it shouldn’t be a problem to pick it up on his way into the mountains.

The other specialized equipment he knew he’d eventually need was also en route to a different package store in Charlotte but shipped by another courier service and paid for under a second, separate alias. A small thrill lanced through his veins. He actually had aliases—three of them, to be exact. Just like a real operative.

He could’ve driven his own car and booked a flight out of Wichita to O’Hare, but checking all the Kansas airport flight manifests was something his uncle would do after he discovered Ted’s disappearance. Even traveling under the third alias, Ted wasn’t willing to risk it. He’d seen his uncle’s wrath, and the man was not going to take his nephew’s sudden departure well.

He’d only bought himself a small window of opportunity before Victor would start looking for the newest files on Sandra Walsh’s known associations. Uploading the set on Delta Squad hadn’t taken long. They were already compiled and there wasn’t anything Victor hadn’t seen before—maybe Talon’s latest psych evaluation, but the psychologist had probably already given a copy of his report directly to the CEO. With any luck, nothing would go wrong and he’d be long gone from the area when Victor checked in wanting the latest information . . . not that he’d be stupid enough to answer his cell phone. That thing could be traced easier than a kid outlining a picture with his crayon in a coloring book.

Victor could not be allowed to get away with sanctioning any more operative deaths. He had to be stopped, and Delta Squad was the best of the best. If anyone could help him take down his uncle, it would be them. Victor’s paranoia had ratcheted up so high, Ted knew it was only a matter of time before his little talk with Talon during the operative’s visit to headquarters for his psych evaluation would reach the man’s ears.

Ears.
He snapped his fingers. That’s what he’d forgotten. He had almost left the secondary phone behind. He crossed the beige carpeting and snatched the device off the dresser top. It was a lot heavier than a typical cell phone and bulkier too, but the tech on this baby was worth more than a store full of smartphones put together. His buddies at MIT loved playing with gadgets, and Ted was usually their guinea pig.

The cell phone, reminiscent of the early 2000s, was actually a cousin to a satellite phone. It used the same technology as a sat phone when it bypassed cell towers, but it also had a few other features, making it very hard to trace.

A car horn beeped twice.

He strolled through the small apartment one last time, ensuring everything was unplugged and locked up tight.
Quit stalling and leave.
A set of butterflies danced in his stomach. He’d never imagined he’d have to choose between family loyalty and standing up for what he believed in. They should have been one and the same. He firmly shut the door with his suitcases at his feet.

He patted the weight in his front shirt pocket. He planned on calling Talon from the road. The guy owed him for the tip on Wraith’s hiding spot. By the lack of response, he bet Talon had found her and rallied the troops to help her stay alive. Hopefully they’d do the same for him.

***

Sandra cut the growl of the engine and took a deep breath.

“Ready?” Magician asked, pulling a flat leather billfold, identical to Romeo’s, from her purse.

“Oh, sure. Piece of cake.” Sandra gave her a wan smile. It took her two tries to open the car door. The adrenaline still dumping into her system had her body shaking and her mind fuzzy.

Police cruisers and SUVs covered the entire area, effectively blocking the road in both directions in a wide berth. Red and blue lights whirled on top and strobed from the grills. Car doors were flung open, and a myriad of officers took covered positions behind them with their sidearms or assault rifles aimed at the three of them.

“All of you, raise your hands over your heads!” The direction blasted out of a squad car’s PA system. “Camaro Driver, take two steps away from the car.”

Sandra did as she was told, still trying to control her body’s trembling. She wasn’t too worried about all the weapons pointed at her. These men and women had plenty of training on developing their control in intense situations—though there was always a risk that someone would misconstrue an action and take a shot.

The urge to shake her hands against the tingles swarming through them became insistent. She needed a better outlet than keeping her arms still and in the air to work through the excess energy burning through her blood.

“Camaro Driver, take two more steps and place your hands on the hood.”

She almost laughed at the direction. The Camaro’s whole front end was speckled with bullet holes. And just as she’d suspected, both headlights had been blown apart and some of the casing now dangled sadly. Finding a smooth spot where she wouldn’t cut her hands wasn’t easy.

She yelped. Damn, that hurt. The hood was burning hot.

“Passenger, put your hands over your head and take two steps toward the road.”

“She’s with me,” Romeo yelled, holding up his leather billfold. “FBI, please stand down.”

Oh sure, wait until
after
I fried my palms to identify yourself . . .
Oh Christ. The exchange between Cappy, Romeo, and Magician finally sank in.

“Magician, you guys can’t do this,” Sandra hissed, lifting her head and peering at her frozen teammate, who hadn’t moved despite the order to do so.

“We’d like to talk to whoever’s in charge,” Magician yelled, obviously ignoring Sandra’s warning. She opened her billfold and showed them her badge along with the FBI identification card.

“Officer O’Malley,” PA System Guy snapped, though not through the loudspeaker. “Go check out the badges and report back to me.”

“We need to hurry this up,” Romeo yelled. “We can’t risk getting caught on someone’s cell phone, and you’ve got a crowd gathering.”

Sandra peered through the cracked and holey windshield to see what caused the sharp edge in Romeo’s tone. Sure enough, curious citizens were beginning to gather at the fringes of the police car barricade.
Idiots.
Didn’t they understand the risk of a stray bullet hitting them if a shootout occurred?

Officer Brett O’Malley strutted forward, his hand resting on the butt of his holstered gun. His steps faltered as he glanced first at Romeo, then Magician.

Sandra snorted. Yeah, it’s probably not every day he’d get a chance to see two supermodel FBI agents—in real life, that is. No doubt this guy had a massive movie collection, if only to show off his “superior” knowledge on everything Hollywood did wrong.

Not surprisingly, Brett chose Magician.

And to think, just last night he had been flirting with
her
. Typical.

He took the billfold Magician held out to him and inspected it. Then he motioned to Romeo to hand his over as well. Romeo slapped it in the guy’s outstretched palm. Brett flipped the wallet open and pinged his gaze between the ID card and Romeo.

Romeo put his hands on his hips and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Wait here while I verify them,” Officer O’Malley clipped.

“Is that really necessary?” Magician asked.

“Yes, ma’am, it is.”

Brett pivoted on his heel and marched toward a marked police cruiser parked haphazardly in the street.

Sandra cursed loudly in her head. This wasn’t the most comfortable position, and her hands were going to blister if he didn’t hurry the fuck up.

They waited silently for several
lonnnnnng
minutes while Brett sat in his car, pecking at his laptop and talking to dispatch. Within that time, Officer Pamela Mead had walked over to the passenger side of the car and split her gaze between her partner and them.

Brett heaved himself out of the car and called, “They’re legitimate.” He paraded forward, holding up each of the badges, then smacked them onto Romeo’s hand.

Romeo passed Magician hers just as an older man, probably in his late fifties, wended through a section of open car doors and approached the group. His gray suit seemed well cared for, if a little loose on the guy. Bet he was close to retirement and was just biding his time until that day. He didn’t strike Sandra as a fashionista who would run out and replace the suit when a belt could still hold his pants up.

Sandra stood. She couldn’t take the heat of the hood burning through her palms anymore.

Shifting rippled through the police officers as a sudden tension filled the air.

“Whoa.” She crooked her arms to show her hands. “Just standing. Not moving another inch.”

Romeo shot her a shut-it-don’t-make-this-worse look.

“Aye, aye, captain,” she said, saluting him with two fingers.

He rolled his eyes just as the older man reached their group.

“Lieutenant Miller,” the newcomer said, his voice gravelly, as if he had chain-smoked all his life. He held his hand out to Magician. She grasped it in a firm shake, and Romeo did the same.

“Special Agents Raymond Stiles and Sonya White,” Romeo said, putting his wallet away. “We need to talk more privately. I was serious when I said we can’t risk being caught on camera.”

The man’s brown cataractous eyes studied them shrewdly. He then motioned for Romeo to lead.

Magician grabbed Sandra’s arm as if to keep the “suspect” with them and pulled as they followed Romeo to the other side of the gas pumps. His truck blocked most of the onlookers from their sight.

Romeo put his hands on his hips and said, “I’m not at liberty to share much—”

“Of course you’re not.” Lieutenant Miller scowled.

“But it involves a drug cartel. I believe you’ve already heard rumblings of them moving this way?”

Lieutenant Miller’s gaze flicked to Sandra, and she felt the brunt of his suspicious stare. “How are you involved in that, and why in hell are they shooting at you in my city?”

Magician held her hand up. “I’m afraid she can’t answer those questions or any others you may have for her. Now call off your police force, please.”