Hunted (23 page)

With that he turned and stalked back into the kitchen, speaking to his accomplice. “We leave at oh-four-hundred.” He pulled a gun from the back of his waistband. “If she tries to escape, shoot her,” he said, setting the weapon on the table next to the laptop.

Casting her one last look of utter loathing, he took off in the opposite direction, down a narrow hallway and disappeared from view, leaving Zoe lying helpless on the floor.

****

It felt like days instead of hours before the taskforce was finally assembled together at the local FBI office. Clay stood against the wall at the head of the conference table while DeLuca and the local agent-in-charge gave the briefing, and it wasn’t because his back was bothering him.

It was because if he was forced to sit on his ass right now with Zoe missing, he might explode.

The room was packed with cops and agents from various law enforcement groups, including several of the DEA guys they’d been working with, and Clay’s entire team. Their sniper teams were still in Biloxi on standby, and could be called in with an hour’s notice in case of an op.

Everyone was quiet as the lead DEA agent detailed everything about the case so far. Carlos Ruiz’s picture was up on the main screen for everyone to see, along with his service record and what the IA people had compiled against him to this point.

It wasn’t good news for Zoe.

Drug trafficking. Weapons smuggling. Three possible recent murders of people he’d used as sources during his undercover work.

Clay’s fingers dug into his palms, his hands fisting tight as he stayed in position with his arms folded across his chest. The thought of Zoe being taken by this piece of shit, imagining what might have happened or might be happening to her at this very moment while everyone stood around analyzing the case was slowly driving him batshit crazy. He ached for the chance to see her, touch her, hold her again. He was terrified it might not happen.

“NOPD found the getaway car ditched on an access road six miles out of town, not far off I-10.” He glanced at Clay, then Tuck. “No bloodstains found anywhere inside it and they got a few prints that confirm the kidnapper was Ruiz.”

That was good news, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t bleeding now. God, he felt sick with worry. This entire time in NOLA so far had been a serious wake-up call where Zoe was concerned. Her being taken was a giant kick in the nuts and made him vividly aware of how much he cared. She brought color and warmth into his stark, cold world. She made him feel like the man he’d always wanted to be.

He’d give anything to get her back and have the chance to tell her so.

“Ruiz’s known residence is empty and so is Leticia Harland’s. They’re both being watched but Ruiz won’t go near either of them. There are no known friends or relatives in the area and right now the team has no other leads as to where the cops should start looking,” the DEA agent continued.

Clay kept listening while he scanned the room. His guys were seated at the back. Schroder, Blackwell, Cruz, Evers, Vance. Tuck stood behind them, also leaning against the wall, chomping on a piece of gum. He looked over and met Clay’s gaze, and Clay knew he and his buddy were thinking the exact same thing. They were both praying for a tip that would lead them to Ruiz, give them a chance to execute an op to bring the fucker down and free Zoe.

Barring that, he’d take anything that got Zoe back alive and unharmed.

Once the briefing was over he found himself in the totally foreign position of not being able to do anything. During ops cycle, after a briefing he’d usually get his gear together, do a weapons check or some PT to burn off steam.

Right now there was no op to plan, no gear to gather and he sure as shit didn’t feel like hitting the gym. He waited against the wall while all the cops and other agents left the room, leaving just him, his teammates, a couple of local Feds and the DEA crew. “So what’s the plan?” he asked Tuck, deferring to him because he was team leader.

“Celida just texted me a few minutes ago, she and her team are on the way in from the airport. She’s been trying to track Zoe and the other woman.”

They knew the location and time of the meeting, and wanted to find Zoe before then. Clay hated sitting around doing nothing. He wanted to jump into a vehicle and start searching, be on the move when a good tip came in. It made more sense to wait until they had more intel though.

Resigned, he stayed where he was and half-listened to the rest of the guys as they talked. He wasn’t social at the best of times but right now he was incapable of carrying on a conversation with anyone. He kept remembering the way Zoe had smiled at him in the bathroom as he’d dressed this morning, her golden eyes alight with pleasure and pride. Pride in
him
.

It’d been a long time since he’d truly felt proud of himself. When Zoe looked at him he felt like a good man, like he could do anything. Facing the prospect of a world without her, of her being snatched from his life like this…it opened up a giant hole in his chest.

He stood that way, apart from everyone else while the acid burned in his stomach, until the conference room door opened and Special Agent Celida Morales swept in. Agent Greg Travers was with her, along with two other agents Clay didn’t recognize.

Tuck went over immediately and hugged her close, murmured something to her, but when they parted a few moments later there were no tears in Celida’s eyes. Her best friend might be missing, kidnapped by a rogue DEA agent, but one look at Celida and it was clear she had her game face on. And judging by that determined expression, she planned on hunting down Ruiz no matter how long it took. It gave Clay hope to know that for at least a few people involved in Zoe’s case, it was personal. They had a vested interest in solving this case, and in making sure Zoe was found alive.

Celida nodded at Clay and got right to the point, the scar on her cheek moving as she spoke. “Nothing yet. The local agents and us have feelers out to a list of Ruiz’s contacts in the area. He’s used a couple different burner phones here in the city but nothing since he took Zoe. We know he’s going to use her to get Leticia, so at some point Zoe will have to give him the coordinates and time, if she hasn’t already. Right now it’s his only way of finding Leticia, and our only way of finding him. Unless we get a credible tip in the next few hours, our best shot is planning to take him at the meeting point tomorrow morning. It’s all we’ve got at the moment, unfortunately.” She looked at Tuck and DeLuca. “What’ve you guys got so far?”

It went without saying that the local Feds and cops had jurisdiction, and that Clay and his teammates would only be called in if Ruiz barricaded himself with hostages or a hostage extraction was deemed necessary. And even then, only if they were cleared to do so.

Clay came away from the wall and gathered around the table with everyone else as they went over maps and satellite images of Nairn Park and the surrounding area. The park itself was a flat, grassy area next to what looked like a construction site of some sort. DeLuca reviewed everything, made some suggestions, then Tuck tweaked them.

“Sniper teams deployed here and here,” Tuck said, touching two spots on the map where the screen of trees and brush around the park provided good camouflage and the guys would have good sightlines of the area. Then he looked at the local FBI agent-in-charge, Ames. “Where do you want to position on the highway?”

The park was right off I-10, so they needed to cut off any and all exits if Ruiz managed to evade the trap and attempt an escape.

“We’ll have agents and officers covering all entry and exit points, including this access road running parallel to the park,” Ames said, his deep voice carrying around the room with ease. He was a former Army Master Sergeant, and Clay liked the way he ran things. Calmly and efficiently. His word was law with his people, but he wasn’t an asshole about it and seemed to be open to suggestions if anyone voiced one.

Clay followed everything closely, studying the map, trying to think like Ruiz. If he was that focused on getting Leticia back and Zoe had given him the meeting time and location, there was no way he wouldn’t show up tomorrow morning. He had to know the cops and Feds were coming for him, but to a man like Ruiz, it wouldn’t matter.

He could send someone else to the meeting place, but Clay doubted he would. Not with this much at stake. The man was willing to throw away his career and face life in prison for the chance to be reunited with his woman. No, he’d be there in person.

DeLuca, Tuck and Ames discussed several more points, backup plans, exfil plans Ruiz might have in mind. He’d have to come in by vehicle, and the only other option for getting away was to go on foot through the brush and head toward the river. There was no way he’d be able to make it far, even if he managed to somehow evade all the law enforcement officers the area would be crawling with.

Tuck fell silent, looked around the table. “Anything else?”

Everyone shook their heads, including Clay. At this point there was nothing more to plan and their team wasn’t even officially on standby. He looked at DeLuca. “So what now?”

His CO took off his Chargers cap and ran a hand over his short hair. “I’ll call the sniper teams in, have them bring in everyone’s weapons and kit. If we get the nod, we’ll be ready.”

Feeling helpless didn’t sit well with Clay, but he had no choice. This was the best they could do for the moment and he was gonna have to find a way to live with it.

He fucking hated it though. It felt too much like when he’d been forced to step back and watch his sister self-destruct, only this time Zoe’s life hung in the balance and right now it was in someone else’s hands.

Straightening, he looked at Tuck, who lifted his arm for Celida and wrapped it around her shoulders. Clay wanted to be able to do that with Zoe so bad right now his muscles cramped. “I’m gonna take off,” he told them. He needed to get the hell out of here, walk, do something to burn off the excess energy thrumming through him.

Maybe he’d walk back to Zoe’s and wait. Being in her place, surrounded by her eclectic collection of bats and skeletons and crows, breathing in the scent of her perfume… He needed to feel close to her right now and that was the only way it was going to happen. He could deal with her insurance company for her, have her doors fixed for her, get everything cleaned up for when she came home.

Because she
was
coming home. He refused to believe anything else. And when she did, he was going to make it clear what she meant to him and that he wanted her in his life going forward.

He couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. He’d lived in darkness for too long. She was his light and he wasn’t letting her go.

“You’ll call me?” he asked them, aware that his voice was rough but not giving a shit that it betrayed his worry.

Celida gave him a sad smile and nodded, while Tuck answered. “’Course, man. Soon as we hear anything.”

With a weary nod, Clay turned and strode from the room.

The sun was a faint glow on the edge of the horizon when they left the house the next morning. Carl, or Carlos as the other man had called him, had hauled her up off the floor where she’d stayed all night and freed her hands only long enough for her to use the bathroom. She’d searched frantically for a weapon but the cupboards and drawers had been bare and there were no windows for her to try an escape. Not that she’d have gotten very far with her ankles bound and him waiting on the other side of the door with a gun.

Steeling herself for whatever lay ahead, knowing she had no other choice but to go along with this for now, Zoe had exited the bathroom and allowed him to cuff her hands again, this time in front of her. But he’d undone her feet, apparently impatient with her slow, shuffling steps. The dress would hamper her ability to get much leverage, but she’d kick him wherever she could if the opportunity presented itself.

Carlos’s twenty-something accomplice, who was some kind of computer tech from India, had been asleep on the ratty living room couch of what she’d discovered was some sort of hunting cabin on a bayou somewhere. She had no idea whether they were still in Louisiana. She’d expected Carlos to order her into the trunk but he’d surprised her by ordering her into the front passenger seat and tying her bound hands to the door handle.

You try anything stupid and I’ll put a bullet in you.

The words had sent ice water sluicing through her veins. She couldn’t see a gun but she knew he had one in here somewhere and didn’t doubt the threat. She’d barely moved since leaving the cabin, instead staring out the window as her mind worked furiously to think two steps ahead. It was only a few minutes after four, so they had almost two hours until the meeting with Leticia.

He hadn’t told her what he planned to do, of course, but so far he seemed to believe her that she was necessary for the meeting. She’d been trying to think of a way to warn Leticia and Xander if and when she saw them. Zoe didn’t want Carlos to get either of them, but the thought of an innocent child being caught up in all this turned her stomach. She had to find a way to protect him.

Throughout the night she’d strained to hear whatever was being said on the police scanner Gill had on the kitchen table, but he’d had the volume down too low. Twice he’d woken Carlos, who hadn’t slept more than a few hours, to report something. Zoe hadn’t slept much either, wracking her brain for some kind of plan and thinking of Clay. His smile, the way his blue eyes warmed when he looked at her, the feel of his arms around her and the way he’d claimed her with his body.

He and Tuck would be searching for her right now. They’d be planning something for the meeting. She prayed it would all end quickly, without anyone getting shot.

Well, if Carlos happened to eat a bullet or two, she could live with that.

He was silent as he drove them along the interconnecting waterways that made up the bayou, the tall cypress trees casting shaggy shadows with their fringes of Spanish moss hanging from the boughs. She’d lived practically her entire life in Louisiana and had only visited the bayous once in an airboat tour when she was eleven. It had an eerie beauty to it but she couldn’t appreciate it now. Not when what might be the last two hours of her life were ticking away.