Hold on Tight (29 page)

Jamie looked down the small hallway leading toward the kitchen. The white-tiled floor was smeared with blood—brown, dried. It made her stomach lurch. To her immediate left was an empty syringe, tagged.

“Tranquilizer,” PJ said. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Jamie let her older sister take the lead up the stairs. The house wasn’t big by any means, and Kevin had given up his office so she and PJ could each have their own rooms. He’d simply turned a once-open alcove into a small office, and never said a word about it.

PJ disappeared into her old room. As Jamie passed her own old room on the way to the office, she noted that it was now converted into some kind of workout space for Grace, complete with a treadmill and a wide, flat-screen TV. So different, and still it was like stepping back in time.

Hesitantly, Jamie opened the closet—for a long time, she’d refused to use it, remembered having to hide in one until the police came.

And even though this wasn’t the same house or the same closet, she still stepped back from it, leaving the door open as she backed out of the room and headed for Kevin’s office.

In the unmistakably male-oriented office of her foster father, Jamie felt the tears rise. She pushed them back brusquely, told herself that she had a job to do. That Kevin wouldn’t want her to cry.

There was a small floor safe. Jamie stared down at it for a second, and then, on a hunch, tried the date that she and PJ came to live here.

No luck.

She tried birthdays. Anniversaries. Again, nothing.

PJ came in. “What’s up?”

“I need to get this open.”

“I can do it,” PJ said. Jamie moved out of the way and watched PJ crack the small safe like a pro. “Don’t ask.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

She pulled out a folder and handed it to Jamie. “That’s all there is.”

Jamie flipped through it quickly. “These are our birth certificates—the new ones, not the originals. Kevin’s and Grace’s too. That’s all.”

PJ sat on the floor and sighed.

“I’ve got to talk to Lou before I do anything else—he’s got to hear about all of this from me,” Jamie said. On the car ride over, she’d told David about Kevin’s connection to Alek, and his shocked expression made it clear he hadn’t known anything about Kevin’s past either.

“You’re going to tell him that you’re in witness protection?”

“Yes. Even if he already suspects, I have to be the one who tells him—I owe him that much. And then we’ll go look for Kevin.”

PJ threw her hands up. “Where do we start, Jamie?” Alek had made no further contact—Jamie had been checking the messages on Chris’s phone obsessively, and nothing. “Where would Alek take them? I mean, he wants us to follow—wants us dead too—so why isn’t he leaving us some clues?”

Jamie paused for a second and then she dug in her pocket for the printout of his father’s obituary. “Maybe he has without us realizing it. There’s an address here—his father’s house. He said something about going back to where it all began.”

“And we’re going to knock on the door and ask to see Alek?” PJ asked.

“No, we’re going to knock on the door and get leverage.” Her voice didn’t sound like her own. She’d thought revenge wasn’t in her blood, thought she’d let that go. But if hurting Alek’s mother and sister was what it took to get Kevin and Grace back …

“I know exactly where the house is. I’ve been there. Years ago, I stood in front of the house for about an hour, waiting for someone to come out. Waiting for the courage to knock on the door.”

“What were you going to do?”

“I wasn’t sure. But now I am.” PJ’s eyes glittered as she helped Jamie off the floor so they could head downstairs.

“David won’t let you do this,” Chris said when he heard their plan. He, Saint and the two sisters stood alone in the small kitchen, voices lowered as they discussed their next steps. “He wants you both in a safe house.”

“David doesn’t have to know anything except that we’re going to New York,” Jamie said.

“Fuck David,
I
won’t let you do this,” Chris told her. “What makes you think Alek took Kevin and Grace to New York?”

“It’s a hunch. Intuition.”

“Chris and I can go to Alek’s mother’s house,” Saint interjected.

But PJ shook her head. “We have a plan.”

“What the hell are you going to do? Hold the women hostage?”

“If that’s what it takes to get Alek to release Kevin, yes,” PJ said calmly.

“This isn’t the wild west. Or Africa,” Saint told her pointedly. “Suppose Alek is inside that house, waiting for you?”

“Let the four of us take care of this,” Chris said, referring to Saint and Nick and Jake and him.

But Jamie shook her head. “We need to be there—we’re the ones Alek wants.”

“I’m not using you two as leverage,” Saint insisted.

“Alek has no more credibility with the men his father ran with,” Chris reasoned. “Kevin told me as much. Alek’s working alone. Which means he’s got nothing to lose. He’s been planning this. Studying you and Kevin and Grace for a long time.”

Jamie started to pace, something having triggered in her mind. “So far, Alek hasn’t done anything without purpose. Using Gary. Killing Gary. The positioning of Gary’s body. And he could’ve killed him anywhere, but he chose a school.”

“Kevin saved Alek at school,” PJ said. “What high school did Alek attend?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure it won’t be hard to find out,” Jamie said. “Look, I’ll speak with Lou, tell him we need some manpower in New York.”

“How are we going?” Chris asked.

“Flying,” Saint said.

“Then I’ll call Glen,” he said, but Saint held up a hand to stop him.

“PJ will get us there.”

Chris gave a small smile—part melancholy, part approval. “Mark’s plane.”

“It’s PJ’s now,” Saint said quietly, and Chris nodded.

“We’ll get supplies together and a safe house secured for New York, just in case,” Chris said. “We’ll meet you back here and all head to the airport together.”

Jamie nodded. “Okay. That will give me time to speak with my boss.”

Breathe
, she silently instructed herself, repeated the word—and the action—as the phone rang.

Working within the closely guarded community of the FBI had been a relief for her, one of the few places she truly felt safe. Of course, she’d always lived with the uneasy notion that her background could be found out by any number of the agents who worked in the building—most of them had access to the U.S. Marshals’ database when they needed it. Even though she’d been carefully hidden, her past life layered with both truth and falsehoods, she’d often wondered what Lou would say if he knew who she really was.

In about five seconds, she wouldn’t have to wonder any longer.

His secretary put her right through; it felt as if years had passed since the last time she’d spoken with him.

“I know about Kevin. We’re cooperating with the marshals in any way we can,” Lou said when he picked up the phone. “David filled me in on Kevin’s connection to this Alek Frolov character.”

“And mine as well, I’m assuming.”

“I should have been informed from the moment you were assigned to me, Michaels. You’re not the first of my agents on witness protection. I’m always told, dammit.”

He was angry. She was making all the men in her life angry today. “No one knew—only Kevin and a few other marshals. They made the decision, not me.” She attempted to keep the edge out of her voice, stared at Chris’s back and the way his hands tightened against the doorjamb as if ready to come to her defense at any moment. “It wasn’t easy for me, but I never thought—we never thought—”

“No one ever thinks it will happen,” Lou interrupted.

“I’m not going to a safe house or leaving town or changing my name. I won’t do that again. If that means having to leave the Bureau, then consider it done. But first, I’m going to make sure Kevin and Grace are all right.”

Lou sighed and she pictured him in the familiar pose she knew so well, with two fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose. For what seemed like forever, she waited, suspended in time, not sure how much trouble she was in.

But finally he said, “Now that I know, tell me what I can do to help you find this bastard.”

It was the invitation she’d been hoping for.

When they landed, Jamie had a message from Lou that there were reports of suspicious activity at the high school Kevin and Alek had once attended. She was gratified to know her instincts were on target.

Jamie sat next to Chris, who drove them into Brooklyn—he was tense, she was more so.

When they got to the high school, it was close to midnight and the FBI was there along with a SWAT team and the local police. Jamie showed her badge and was let through, with Chris and PJ and the others trailing behind her.

The first familiar face she spotted was Coop. “I got your call about the school being a possible hiding place right after the SWAT team called me to this,” he said. “Shots were fired from inside and the neighbors called. The records for the rental car in the lot say it’s Kevin’s—Alek must’ve used his ID to rent it.”

“Have you made contact?”

“Lester’s talking to Alek—trying to anyway. But all Alek wants is you and your sister.” He looked past her to PJ. “I assume you’re Patricia. You need a vest.”

“I don’t need anything but five minutes alone with Alek,” she told him, her voice rising above the din.

“Let us talk to Alek. That’s what he wants—us, scared.” Jamie stood next to Lester, one of the best negotiators the FBI had. But she knew Alek wouldn’t be happy with anyone but her on the other end of that line. “He’s not planning on letting them out of there alive. We both know that.”

Lester reluctantly addressed both women. “I’ll walk you through this. Jamie, you take point. Remember, this guy doesn’t care if he dies. Get him nervous. Throw him off his game. Once we get a bead on where he is in the building, we’ll send in a SWAT team, position snipers.”

She noted there were already snipers on the roof of the building. “Lester, Chris Waldron is here with me—he’s a Navy SEAL, and a sniper. One of the best. If it comes down to it, I’d trust him with my life. The FBI and CIA have both been trying to recruit him for years.” She pointed toward him—Chris was speaking with members of the SWAT team.

“I’ll keep it in mind. But it’s going to be a tough shot—I don’t think this will end that easily.” Lester dialed and then handed her the phone.

After three rings, it was picked up, Alek’s voice calm as he said, “Hello.” She took a deep breath and spoke. “Alek, it’s Jamie.”

“Took you long enough, Ana. I thought the FBI would have trained you better.”

Jamie bristled a bit at being referred to as Ana, and put the phone on speaker before asking, “Do you need anything, Alek? Food? Water? Medical attention for either Kevin or Grace?” Keep it personal—keep using his name. Be his friend.

God, she hated him. Her fist curled around the phone as he answered her.

“Are you going to deliver everything personally? You and your sister? Is she here?”

“I’m here, Alek,” PJ said evenly when Lester nodded.

“Alek, how is Kevin?” Jamie asked. “Can I speak to him, as a show of good faith?”

“Peter. His name is Peter. And he’s not able to speak with you now. But if you come inside, you can have a nice chat.”

He sounded cool, calm. Collected. Like ice ran through his veins. She, on the other hand, was sweating and angry. And no matter how he sounded, she suddenly realized, Alek was too.

She thought for a few seconds about the story Kevin told them earlier. Alek came from a tough family that valued loyalty. A lot of pressure for a young boy—even more for a young man who’d been forced to carry out a family vendetta. He wouldn’t have been the first one to buckle under parental pressure, and this was well beyond the norm. She could use that. “You must be so angry, Alek, with your father liking Peter better than he liked you. Peter saved you, but you were scarred. Ugly. You’ve spent the past nineteen years in hiding, shaming your father because you couldn’t close the deal and kill us.”

“You don’t know anything about my life.”

“I know this can’t end well. Your mother and sister need you alive.”

“You don’t know what my mother and sister need.”

Lester put up a hand, mouthed,
Tone it down
.

Her instincts told her the opposite, but before she could speak, PJ was saying, “Alek, I’ll tell you what, we’ll trade—my family for yours. We’ve got your sister and mother. We’ll give you them if you release Kevin and Grace. Do we have a deal?”

Her answer was the sound of a shot that echoed over the line and out from inside.

“Shot fired in the building. I repeat, shot fired,” Coop was saying over the line. “Hold your fire.”

Jamie stifled a sob as Alek spoke again. “I’ve killed Kevin—go ahead, PJ, you can have one of my family now. But I don’t think you can do it—I know you don’t have it in you to kill innocent people. Not like I do.”

He was right—she damned him for calling PJ’s bluff. “I need to speak with Kevin.”

“I told you, Kevin’s dead,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it fast for you and PJ.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“You wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t.”

She suddenly knew he was lying. He wouldn’t kill Kevin until she and PJ were in the room with him, could see it happen. “Let me speak to Kevin.”

There was a pause. Then, “First send Patricia Jane in. Let’s see if she’s still as brave as she once was.”

PJ was already walking toward the door, shoving off Coop and Saint, who tried to hold her back.

Quickly, Jamie covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “You’re not doing this. He doesn’t get to make the rules.”

PJ stopped, looked at her. “He already has, Jamie. You and I both know that. I’m not letting you go inside, but one of us has to. And if I can’t kill Alek myself, I can line him up so Chris can take a shot. Either way, Alek’s not leaving the school alive.”

“We can send in a decoy, an agent,” Coop was saying, but PJ shook her head.

“He’ll know. Agent Cooper, with all due respect, I’m the only one who can do this.” PJ stood toe to toe with Coop.

“It’s suicide,” Coop asserted. “And we do not send civilians to negotiate hostage situations.”

“You can’t watch me the entire time. I’m going inside at some point—with or without your consent. I’d much rather you were on my side, though, able to track me.”

“Can you handle firearms?” Coop asked.

“Former Air Force. And CIA,” PJ said.

Which just served to remind Jamie of everything at stake. “Alek, isn’t there another way we can work this out? Send Kevin and Grace out unharmed and we’ll figure something out.”

“I want to see PJ. I know they’re not going to let you in, because of the baby,” Alek answered. “And I’m getting impatient. The next shot you hear might not be as innocuous as the last.”

“I’ll trade—me for Grace,” PJ said, loudly enough for him to hear her. “Grace has nothing to do with this. You let her go and you can have me. I’m far more important than Jamie is anyway—I’m the one who was ready to send your ass to jail.”

There was a dead silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment Jamie wondered if her sister had pushed it too far. But then she heard him.

“Grace is wearing a vest of explosives. You’ll meet her in the hallway. Trade the vest and I’ll let Grace walk out of the building. You’ll have four minutes to make the exchange—after that I’ll blow the device.”

The line clicked off and the sisters stared at each other.

“How do we know he won’t detonate that vest the second you put it on?” Jamie asked.

PJ stared at her, unblinking. “We don’t. But that’s not going to stop me.”