Just Dreams (Brooks Sisters Dreams Series Book 1) (23 page)

Tyler walked up and stepped in between the two men. “Gentlemen, there’s no reason for this to escalate.  Look, we’re all on edge right now.”  He turned to Charles and looked him in the eye.  “I will go in there and get Mr. Morgan out.  You know how much he means to me.  You stay here and help them find Manning.”

As much as Charles wanted to protest, he knew Tyler was right.  If they didn’t find Manning and stop him from using that remote trigger, the chances of getting his father out in one piece were slim to none.  He sighed.  “Alright,” he said, “but you better get him out or your life will not be worth living.”

“If I don’t get him out, it’s because I’m no longer living,” Tyler said.

Charles nodded.  He held out his fist. “
Semper fi
, my brother.”

Tyler bumped his fist against Charles’.  “
Semper fi.
”

***

After Tyler and the others left for the warehouse, Charles turned to one of the agents left behind.  “Agent Peters isn’t it?”

The man nodded.

“Do we have any leads at all with respect to Manning’s location?” Charles asked.

“Yes.  We cross-referenced all calls made to and from the phone he used at the park.  One of those calls came from a Comfort Inn on LeJeune.  We’re sending some agents there to check it out.”

“We need to go check that out ourselves.  If I know Manning – and unfortunately I do - he’s holed up somewhere close where he can pop by and see the results of his handiwork.  That airport hotel is the perfect place.  It’s large enough for him to check in unnoticed and has plenty of exits in case he has to get out of there fast.  I don’t want your agents to spook him.  Let’s go.”   He stood up.

Agent Peters hesitated.  “My orders are to stay here with you.”

Charles shook his head.  “No.  Your orders are to protect me.  I’m going there.  You can come with me or you can stay here by yourself.  I’m not a suspect and I’m free to leave.”  He walked to the door and then turned back to face Agent Peters.  “Are you coming or do I need to get a cab to the Comfort Inn?”

Agent Peters looked at his partner, who shrugged his shoulders. They followed Charles out the door.

Ten minutes later, they walked into the lobby of the hotel and approached the front desk.  Agent Peters flashed his badge and showed the front desk clerk a photo of Manning. “Is this man staying at your hotel?

The front desk clerk, a grizzly old man, glanced at the photo with bleary eyes then shook his head.  “We have a lot of people staying at the hotel.  It’s season, you know.  I can’t remember every Tom, Dick and Jorge who walks by.”

Charles stepped from behind Agent Peters and leaned against the front desk.  “This is very important.  Take a good look at the photo and try to remember.  Have you seen this man?  He’s armed and very dangerous – not the type of man you want staying at your hotel.”             

The old man looked at the photo more closely.  Recognition flared in his eyes.  He scratched his scalp.  “Yeah.  Come to think of it, I saw someone who kind of looked like that walk by here yesterday.  Except his hair was lighter.  I remember wondering where he was going because I didn’t remember him checking in.  He must be part of that group.”

“Part of what group?” Agent Peters asked.

“Most of our rentals are short-term.  You know, people on vacation or business trips.  They stay for a few days or a couple of weeks max.  But there are some companies that rent out rooms for thirty or more days.  They get a monthly rate.  I remember thinking he must be going to one of those rooms.” 

Charles heart beat a little faster.  “How many rooms are you currently renting out on a monthly basis?”

The old man turned to the computer on his desk and tapped a few keys.  “Two.  Rooms 408 and 1532.” 

Two more F.B.I. agents joined them at the front desk.  Agent Peters greeted them and brought them up to speed.

“We’re going to need keys to those rooms,” Charles said.

The old man shook his head.  “I can’t let you have those.  It’s against hotel policy.  I could lose my job over that.  I’ll have to send security with you to the rooms.”

“Fine, but make it quick.  The man we’re looking for is responsible for planting a bomb that’s about to go off any minute and kill F.B.I. agents and innocent civilians – one of which is my father.” Charles looked into the old man’s eyes.  “Do you have any children?  Grandchildren?  A wife?”

The old man nodded.  He programmed two keys and handed them to Charles.  “These master keys will get you into both rooms.  I’ll send security up after you.”

Charles shook his hand.  “Thanks man.”  He turned to Agent Peters and held up the keys.  “Let’s go.”

Agent Peters took one of the keys and handed it to one of the agents.  “We’ll take 408.  You take 1532.”

The agents nodded and headed off.  Charles, Agent Peters and his partner took the stairs up to the fourth floor.

“You need to stay back while we check this out,” Agent Peters said.

Charles’ hands curled into fists.  It was so frustrating to keep running into these obstacles when they had no time to fool around. “Whatever.  We don’t have time to argue.  Just get in there and separate him from that detonator.”

Agent Peters nodded.  He walked down the hall to join his partner who had his ear to the door of the hotel room. His partner shook his head, indicating he had heard nothing.  Agent Peters pulled out the master key and slid it into the lock.  A low buzzer sounded and the light above the door handle flashed from red to green.  He turned the knob and pushed the door in.  His partner led the way.  Agent Peters followed, going in low. 

Gunshots erupted.  Charles’ heart froze.

Agent Michaels, Tyler, and the others stood outside the door of the warehouse. 

“Scans show just one heat signature in the middle of the warehouse. No-one has been observed entering or leaving the building,” one agent said.  “We also scanned the front door looking for booby traps and found no signs of any.”

Agent Michaels nodded.  “How much longer until they take the hinges off the front door?”

“Not long.  They have to go slow to make sure the door isn’t wired.”

“All clear!” called out one of the bomb techs. 

The bomb techs went in first, carefully searching the warehouse for explosives.  They came out a few minutes later.  The head bomb tech walked up to them.  “We found the hostage strapped to a chair in the middle of the room.  He’s alive, but he’s sitting on ten blocks of C-4 wired to a pressure switch, a remote detonator and a cell phone.  We also found hidden cameras that appear to be transmitting the feed to a remote location.”

“So what you’re telling me is that the bomb could go off if he phones it in, detonates it from a remote location or if the hostage gets off that chair,” Agent Michaels said.

The bomb tech nodded.  “That’s right.”

“Can we disarm it?” Agent Michaels asked.

“Yes, but it’s going to take time.  Meanwhile, he could see us working on it through the video feed and set it off.  I told the men to evacuate the building on the off chance he hasn’t seen us yet.  The cameras are trained on the hostage and the bomb.  We jammed all cell phone signals around here before going in, so he wasn’t able to set off the bomb by phoning it in.  He could still have someone set it off by remote though.  Maybe the other agents have gotten to him. We’re waiting for a report,” he said.

“What other agents?” Agent Michaels asked.  “Have we found out where he’s hiding?”

“We traced the surveillance signal back to a laptop in the Comfort Inn on LeJeune.  I reported in and headquarters told me agents had already been dispatched there.  We got ahold of two of those agents, but the suspect was not in the room they checked out. We haven’t been able to get in touch with Agent Peters or Agent Phillips,” he said.

“Manning probably got past them and is on his way here.  How close does he have to be to detonate the bomb by remote?” Tyler asked.

“I’d say no more than thirty feet outside the warehouse in any direction,” the bomb tech said.

“That’s a lot of ground to cover,” Agent Michaels said.  “We’re going to need some more men.”

“Is there any way you could do something to delay the detonation long enough for me to get Mr. Morgan out of there?” Tyler asked.

The bomb tech nodded slowly.  “We could spray the bomb with liquid nitrogen. That would give you maybe ten seconds’ delay.   A young healthy man who’s a fast runner might be able to get far enough away to survive the blast, but the hostage is an older man who looks tired.  He’ll never make it.”

“Is there any way to fool the pressure switch so that someone could trade places with him?” Tyler asked.

“Theoretically, yes.  As long as the right amount of pressure is applied to the seat of the chair, the switch won’t know the difference.  But we’re talking about a very delicate operation here.  One wrong move and both men could go boom.  I don’t know if the hostage is in good enough condition to slide off that chair slowly enough to do the transfer without registering a weight change to the pressure sensor.  Who could we get to switch with him anyway?  This would be an extremely high risk operation,” the bomb tech said.

“I’ll make the switch,” Tyler said.  “Just tell me how to do it.”

“Are you sure?” Agent Michaels asked.  “We’re not ordering you to do this.  You heard him.  This is extremely dangerous.”

Tyler looked at him.  “Yes.  I’m sure.  That man in there is like a father to me. You don’t have to order me to do this.  You couldn’t stop me.”

The bomb tech raised his eyebrows.  “Well, in that case, let’s get started.”

***

Charles silently inched down the hall to the door of the hotel room and peered inside.  Manning stood in front of the desk staring into the screen of a laptop computer his back to Charles.  The two agents sprawled bloody and motionless on the floor.

As Charles crept into the room, he saw Manning pull a cell phone out of his pocket. He sped up, grabbed Manning by the neck with one arm and used the other to knock the cell phone out of his hand.  He tightened the choke hold, seeking to cut off Manning’s air and render him unconscious.  He wanted to break the man’s neck.

Manning rammed his right elbow into Charles’ midsection.  The pain was intense causing Charles to grunt and momentarily loosen his grip on Manning’s neck.  Manning took the opportunity to spin in Charles’ grasp and bring his knee up into Charles’ groin.  Charles saw stars and doubled over.  Manning kicked him in the face.  He fell back and then down next to Agent Peters, who was lying on the floor bleeding from a gunshot wound in the chest. 

Manning brought his gun hand up and aimed his weapon at Charles.  “So, you thought you could beat me at this game old chap?  Well, bully for you for trying.  Unfortunately, your high opinion of your skills didn’t meet up to your expectations.”  Keeping his weapon trained on Charles, he walked over to where the cell phone had fallen and picked it up. 

A gurgling sound from Agent Peters caught Charles’ attention.  Agent Peters caught his eye then turned his head to look in the direction of his right hand which lay between them.  He still held his weapon. 

Charles looked up at Manning.  He’d taken his eye off of Charles and was hitting buttons on his cell phone with his thumb.  

Charles snatched the gun out of Agent Peters’ hand, raised it and fired.  The bullet hit Manning in the chest and threw him backwards against the desk.  He fell to the floor. 

Charles got up and ran over to him.  He snatched the cell phone from Manning’s hand and looked at it.  To his horror, he saw that Manning had hit the redial button. Nine digits appeared on the tiny screen. 

Charles’ eyes flew to the laptop.  He expected to see camera snow.  Instead, he saw a clear image of Tyler, his father and someone wearing a bomb squad jacket.  He breathed a sigh of relief then squinted at the screen.  What the hell were they doing?

Tyler appeared to be sliding his weight onto the chair and his father appeared to be sliding off it with the help of the bomb tech.  The bomb must have a pressure switch. 

Something made him look down at the floor.  Maybe it was a slight sound or a movement.  Maybe it was just gut instinct.  He glanced down just in time to see Manning raise his gun.  He kicked the gun out of Manning’s hand and then he kicked Manning in the head, rendering him unconscious. 

He went over to check on Agent Peters.  He was still alive.  He checked the other agent’s pulse and felt nothing.  He returned to Agent Peters and applied pressure to the wound on his chest.  He could hear sirens wailing as they approached the hotel.

“Hold on, man,” he said.  “Help is on the way.”  Although he was not in the habit of praying, he sent up a silent one for Tyler and his father.

***

Kathy waited in the safe house feeling helpless and growing more frantic as each report came in.  So far, all they knew was that shots were fired at the Comfort Inn, men were down, Manning had been arrested, and they were still trying to defuse a bomb at the warehouse where Charles’ father was being held hostage.  No-one could tell her if Charles was alright or where he was.

“Take me to the warehouse,” Kathy said to the agent closest to her.  It was Agent Rosaria Santos, a tough looking Latina who wore a dark pants suit, a crisp white button down cotton shirt and her long black hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. 

Agent Santos shook her head.  “No can do.  My orders are to keep you here until we know you’re safe.”

“You can’t keep me here against my will.  I need to know if Charles is alright.  If he is, then I know he’ll go to the warehouse to make sure his father is safe.  Please, no-one can tell me anything here,” Kathy said.

“There’s a bomb at the warehouse, Ms. Brooks.  It’s not safe to take you over there.  And even though Manning is in custody, there’s no telling where the rest of his team is or whether Peachtree has sent any more killers out to look for you.  The safest place for you to be is right here,” Agent Santos said.

“I don’t care,” Kathy said.  “Charles isn’t answering his cell phone.  I need to know he’s safe.  He may even need my help.  Are you coming or do I need to call a cab?” 

Agent Santos sighed and raised her eyes to the heavens.  “Fine.  I’ll take you over there. Agent Michaels will have my ass for it though.”

Kathy smiled.  “Don’t worry. Just tell him that I forced you to take me there.  He’ll believe it.”

“I’m sure he will,” Agent Santos said.

***

Beads of sweat poured down Mr. Morgan’s forehead as he slowly transferred the remainder of his weight off the chair and Tyler took his place.  His cramped leg muscles tensed with the effort of making sure he didn’t move too quickly.  The minute his right buttock cleared the chair, the bomb tech raced him out of the warehouse and onto the street.  What took only seconds felt like forever as he ran half expecting the bomb to explode. 

Once outside, he was taken to an emergency vehicle.  They sat him on a stretcher while the EMT’s checked him out.  An F.B.I. agent walked up to him.

“Mr. Morgan, my name is Agent Michaels,” he said.  “I’m very glad we were able to get you out safely.”

“I am too.  But it’s not over.  Tyler’s not out of the woods yet.  Where’s Charles?”

“Your son went with two other agents to secure Manning and make sure he doesn’t try to remotely detonate the bomb.  We’ve received reports of men down at that location.”

Mr. Morgan’s breath caught.  He waved the EMT’s away.  “Men down?  Which men?  Is Charles alright?”

“I don’t know,” Agent Michaels said.  “The reports are that Manning is in custody, one man is dead and another is wounded.  We should get more detailed reports momentarily.”

Mr. Morgan frowned.  “With all of the technology available today, you people ought to be able to get better information than that.  What kind of-.”

“Dad, stop terrorizing Agent Michaels.  I’ve already done that enough today.”  Charles stepped from behind the bomb squad van, walked up to his father and hugged him tightly.  “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“Same here, son.”

Charles pulled back, but kept his arm around his father’s shoulders.  “Did he hurt you?”

Mr. Morgan shook his head.  “I’m fine, son.  My pride was hurt more than anything else.  But Tyler’s still in there.  That boy took my place on the hot seat.”

“I know.” Charles’ face was grim.  “I saw it on a monitor in Manning’s hotel room.”

An unmarked sedan pulled up to the scene.  The minute it came to a halt, Kathy jumped out and strode briskly up to Agent Michaels.  “Is Charles here?  Is he okay?” 

“See for yourself,” Agent Michaels said.  He inclined his head in Charles’s direction and then walked away.

Mr. Morgan watched Kathy turn her head and spot Charles.  A smile lit up her face. She rushed straight into his son’s arms and buried her face in his chest.  Charles kissed the top of her head.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said. 

“I’m fine, Baby,” Charles said.

Mr. Morgan raised his eyebrows.  What have we here?  He hadn’t seen Charles interact with a woman like that since Patti’s death.

Kathy pulled back and gave Mr. Morgan a smile.

“Hello, Mr. Morgan.  I’m glad to see that you’re safe too.  I’m Kathy Brooks.”  She extended a hand.

Mr. Morgan shook it absently. “Nice to meet you.  I wish it were under better circumstances.”

She nodded.  “I know what you mean.”  She turned back to Charles.  “They said Tyler switched seats with your father.  Is he still in there?”

Charles nodded.  The three of them turned to watch the door to the warehouse.

Agent Michaels returned.  “They’ve put liquid nitrogen on the bomb.  That will give Tyler ten seconds to make the door of the warehouse.  I hope that’s enough time.”

“He was the fastest runner in our unit,” Charles said.  “He’ll make it.” 

Mr. Morgan watched Kathy take Charles’ hand.  As he said a silent prayer for Tyler, he felt Kathy pat him on the back.  He looked at her. She sent him a reassuring smile.  He returned it.

Agent Michaels raised the bullhorn he was holding.  “Ready, set, go!”

Seconds later, Tyler sprinted through the warehouse entrance.  Almost simultaneously, an explosion rocked the street and threw him into the air.  He landed in a heap a few feet in front of them.  Charles ran over to him and squatted down.  “Hey man, you alright?”

Tyler rolled over, sat up, patted himself on various parts of his body as if to make sure they were still there, and then nodded.  He looked a little dazed and had some minor cuts and bruises, but other than that, he seemed fine.  “Yeah. But that’s the last time I go into a rigged warehouse for your behind.” 

Charles threw back his head and laughed.  He helped Tyler to his feet, grabbed him in a bear hug and spun him around.