Midnight Hero (14 page)

She swallowed hard, nodded. “I can do that.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Of course you can.”

“Which will help me become more assertive as well.”

“There you go.” Vindicated, he grinned at her. He hadn't misplaced his faith. “Insight. Another attribute you possess in spades. Too many people think they've already arrived. You realize life is a process and it's only during the trek that you grow.”

Tears pooled in her eyes, huge shimmering pools of deep blue. “You honestly do believe in me.”

“You bet I do.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “All those incredible qualities are why fell in I love with you. The moment I saw you, I saw your heart.”

The tears spilled over, shining silver streaks in the pale light. She choked. “Thank you.”

He drew her into his embrace, holding her close. “You know, after Dad died, Mom hung a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt on the
fridge. Something like, ‘You gain strength and courage when you stare fear in the face.' You can say, ‘I lived through this horror. I'll handle whatever comes along.'”

“So that's where you get the ‘crap happens, I'll handle it' philosophy.” She swiped at the tears with the back of her hand. “So, tonight is some kind of test? A trial by fire?”

“One way of looking at it, yeah. But you're not me, and you can't expect to respond like me.” He swayed, rocking her gently. “I have to walk my road, and you, yours. We'll arrive at our destination in different ways. But we will do our damnedest. We will arrive. Exactly where, when and how we're supposed to.”

She eased away to look up at him again. Understanding glinted in her gaze. “We're on the same path to a shared destiny.”

If she escaped this situation believing in herself, then every moment of suffering was worth it. “We have been since we met. And no matter what happens, no matter how this turns out, hold on to one thought. Be at peace with it. We cannot control the universe. The Man Upstairs knows what he's doing. Though we may never know the reasons, tonight was meant to be.”

“Even if…” She sucked in a breath. “The worst happens?”

“Especially then.” Pressed body to body, her heart thundered against his. He breathed in her heady fragrance. “Believe in the realm of mysteries.”

Her trembling slowed, then stopped as her inner storm subsided and calmness settled over her. Her heartbeat steadied. “With your words as my wings, your faith in me as my shield, how can I do anything but soar?”

He grinned as his heart soared along with her. “So, you'll keep the faith?”

“Yes. I have an obligation to the woman I
really
am.”

“Just be yourself.”

She gave him a wobbly smile that arrowed into his chest. “Have I mentioned lately how wonderful you are?”

They'd traveled a long way from breakfast, when she'd been determined to break up with him. To end their future before they had a chance to live it. Now they might have a shot, if only the bad guys didn't end it. “Never hurts to say it again.”

“You are wonderful.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He glanced around. Still quiet. “You need to rest while the team outside tightens the web.”

She touched his cheek. “There's a team inside, too. And we're getting better at working together by the minute.”

“That we are.” He led her back into the tent. “Now, close those man-killer blue eyes and sleep. I'll wake you when it's time.”

Bailey's eyes drifted closed, and her breathing evened out. Her absolute trust warmed him, body and soul. He wouldn't let her down. Con rubbed the knotted muscles at the back of his neck. The strain of exuding unrelenting confidence had finally caught up with him. For hours, he'd been projecting assurance he didn't feel. But, for Bailey's sake, he had to pull it together and keep it together. Not to mention the hostages who were depending on him.

He extracted a tablet of cinnamon gum from his pocket and concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths. While Bailey slept, he silently battled the demons of doubt and terror.

 

Bailey opened her eyes and blinked in the dim light. “Where am I?” Panic pierced her grogginess and she struggled to throw off the thick comforter.

“Shh. It's okay, baby,” Con's quiet voice soothed. “You're with me.” His strong, warm hand stroked her forehead.

“Con?” She glanced over and saw him sitting beside her, watching her. Dark stubble shadowed his chiseled cheekbones and highlighted his gorgeous mouth. Puzzled, she frowned. He was normally smooth shaven. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “Nearly twenty-one hundred.”

“Twenty-one hundred? Oh, almost nine.” She studied the rumpled blankets. Drowsy and confused, a tingling memory of scorching kisses and soft caresses swirled in her muddled brain. “Did we sleep together?”

“Now that is
not
a flattering question.” He laughed softly.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes. They were in a tent? The day's events hurtled back in a blurred rush of fear and running. “Rats. I thought I was having a really sensual dream about you.”

A sexy smile quirked his lips. “Have those often, do you?”

“Not nearly often enough.”

He laughed again, the husky sound making her belly clench. “Maybe sometime soon, you won't have to resort to dreams.”

Bailey grinned at him. Boy, was he in for a surprise. He'd given her solid ground to stand on. Questions and answers that had made her decision so much easier than she ever imagined. Her knight lived in a violent world of blood and death. But he also possessed a tender heart, brimming with life and love. Steeped in loyalty and bone-deep integrity. He wouldn't let her down. How could she do anything less for him?

Their relationship, their love was special. Beautiful and rare as a flawless diamond. She refused to let her fears stop her. She'd find a way to be the woman he needed. To make their dreams come true a lot sooner than he expected. Once they escaped, she was going to leap on him and never let him go. They might not even make it out of the parking lot.

Being hunted down like an animal had given her a crash course in prioritizing. Being forced to face her own mortality had taught her not to put off important things. She'd never again worry about planning for every eventuality. If they made it out of here in one piece, she would forever live in the moment.

Don't worry, be happy.

She yawned and stretched. “The plan?”

“Find out how negotiations are faring. Check on Syrone.”

“I'm coming with you.” She glared at the Kevlar vest in the corner. “And I'm
not
wearing that. It's too heavy—I won't be able to run. You should wear it. You're the one always jumping in front of bullets.”

He gave her a considering look. “Makes sense.”

“Where do you want to contact the team?”

“From the sky bridge. I can use hand signals, they can send light signals back.” He slipped on the vest, rapidly fastened the buckles. “It's on the opposite side from the bank, so the robbers shouldn't figure out what's happening.”

She hated to leave their cozy nest. Wished they could simply curl up and hide until they were rescued. But that would be cow
ardly. And counterproductive. Unless they did their part, there might not
be
a rescue. For them or their friends downstairs.

They conducted a wary jog to the sky bridge. The night was growing colder, and her breath puffed out white in the chilly air. Beyond the glass, ominous darkness squeezed in on every side. Freezing rain sleeted the windowpanes, making her feel more sealed in. Creepy. Like they were entombed in a big, cold, glass coffin. Foreboding shivered over her.

Lights flashed, ripping holes in the heavy black blanket surrounding them. “Damn.” Con turned from the window. “The suspects have refused to open the door and retrieve the throw phone. Not a good sign for the hostages if they won't negotiate. The robbers could be planning SBC.”

“SBC?”

“Suicide by cop. Go out in a blaze of glory. It's more common than people realize.”

Bile rose in her throat and she swallowed. “What now?”

“Same as we have been. Improvise, modify, adapt, overcome. We need to head downstairs and scope out the situation.”

The PA system crackled and she jumped. “Yoo-hoo to the busy little mice running loose in the mall.” The deep, graveled male voice was almost cordial. If you discounted the underlying hum of menace.

Bailey gasped. “That's the head bank robber! The one the other guy called Tony when we were crouched outside the bank.”

Con's expression grew murderous. “The one wearing Dad's watch.”

“FYI,” Tony continued. “We've wired all the outside doors. If you attempt to open them, or blast through them…kaboom.” He cleared his throat. “Obviously, you are able to communicate with the cops. Otherwise, they wouldn't be here, and attempting to discuss details they shouldn't know on the megaphone. So, here's the deal. You come and see me. Talk to me. Otherwise, these hostages…” He paused. “Have very short life expectancies.”

Con swore viciously.

“You have twenty minutes. And so do they.” The PA system went dead.

Her stomach dropped to her boots and her mouth went dry. “You're not…going down there and confront him?”

“No way. That's TV stuff again. Never lay down your weapon and never turn yourself into bait in an attempt to save hostages. It just makes more hostages. And/or dead cops.” He slammed his fist into his palm. “I need a way to communicate with the suspects and still keep my distance. I wonder if the camping store carries walkie-talkies? That might fly.”

“They do! I saw them when I got the lantern. Cell phones don't get reception in the mall, so would walkie-talkies work?”

“I don't know. Worth a shot. Different schematics, different operational modes, different frequencies. If we're lucky, I might even be able to contact SWAT. I can signal them with the frequency and channels, and they can patch in.”

They sprinted to Outdoor Outfitters. Con read boxes by flashlight while Bailey located batteries. She stuffed packages of disposable hand warmers, two sets of foot-warmer heating pads and Polarshield emergency blankets in her pack. As cold as it was becoming, they might need them later. She also spotted a portable, retractable clothesline made of thin, black plastic-coated wire that might come in handy for tying up bad guys. She finished as he selected six walkie-talkies and laid them on the counter in the back of the store.

She inserted batteries into three red radios while he put them in three blue ones. He placed a hands-free headset and mic on her ears and clipped a blue receiver to her waistband. He then situated a headset and blue unit on himself. “I'm going to hook the robbers up with a modified two-way FRS system—family radio service—and lock in one channel. It's short range and they won't be able to hear or talk to anyone but us. SWAT will be able to tap into the transmissions, though. I'll be the go-between. The robbers will be on the blue set.”

“And the red set?”

“The red set is a GMRS, or general mobile radio system. Transmits up to five miles, and to a greater range of frequencies.” He clipped a red walkie-talkie to her waistband beside the blue unit and then one on his own. “If we switch the headset mic back
and forth, we can talk to each other, and SWAT on the red unit, and the bad guys can't eavesdrop.”

“Who is the third red radio for?”

“Syrone.”

“Now for the million-dollar question. How are you going to deliver the radio to the robbers without getting caught?”

“I have a plan.”

“Of course you do. Will I hate it?”

He didn't reply. “First things first. Back to the sky bridge.”

They raced to the sky bridge, where Con performed another complicated hand dance, and more flashing lights replied. She switched on her red receiver and he showed her how to operate the radios. “These are both manual and VOX, voice activated. If VOX is on we don't have to key the mics. The receiving light will blink when someone transmits to us.” He plugged the headset mic into his red unit, and she heard his voice in her earpiece. “SWAT Command, this is the Nutcracker, do you read? Over.”

A few tense seconds of static buzz. Then a click echoed in her ears. The static disappeared. “Loud and clear,” his big brother Aidan's smooth, deep cadence replied. “Nice to hear from you. This is SWAT Command. Is this channel secure? Over.”

“Ten-four. As much as it can be.”

“Got yourself into quite a conundrum there, eh? Over.”

Con grinned. Close to all three of his brothers, Con was closest to Aidan. Aidan had always razzed Con without mercy. The two played pranks on one another, and on their younger brothers that usually landed the pranksters in major hot water. Aidan was always there when he needed an ear. Steady. Dependable. No better man to have at your back. On a tactical op or in an emotional shitstorm. “Nothing I can't handle.
You're
command? Over.”

“That's a ten-four. I'm the senior ranking officer on site. Alpha Dog is ten-seven and out of communication.”

“Oh, hell, we're all in deep shinola. Over.”

“Nutcracker, what's your status?”

“Lead-free and rolling. About to visual hostages and contact
suspects. Crew leader's name is Tony. He's issued a deadline and threatened the hostages' lives. Claims he's wired the doors. He blew the vault, so he's probably not bluffing. You have fifteen minutes to form an aggressive assault plan that doesn't involve the main doors. If you don't hear from me, green-light it. Over.”

“Ten-four. Fifteen minutes. Make sure you're clear of the area.”

“Roger that. And Command?” Con's voice cracked slightly. “He's wearing Dad's watch.”