Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3) (24 page)

BOOK: Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3)
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The coordinates led to this exact room.

Jin had said there was a girl in danger.

He heard a young girl crying in there.

And the occupants of that room sounded rude and arrogant.

What if the two men in the room were undercover federal agents? There could be a stakeout going. If that were true, Nathan knew any action he took could have catastrophic results. Months, if not years, of surveillance and planning could go down the drain. He thought about Lauren’s description of the dead girl in her stepdad’s warehouse — a perfect match to the border murders. He couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t do something and another dead girl turned up in the mountains. He doubted federal agents randomly pounded walls and cursed the occupants on the other side. But if they
were
feds, the entire motel could be under surveillance and his trip to the vending machine and back had just been recorded. Not only that, but the location of their Taurus might now be known and it too might be under surveillance. If so, he should’ve been intercepted by now. His use of the parabolic mike on the hotel room would raise red flags, and any potential stakeout team would be wondering who he was and why he was here. All they’d know was that he wasn’t part of the stakeout team, and if he wasn’t part of the team, he’d be considered a wild card who could potentially wreck everything.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Huh?”

“You looked lost in thought.”

“I’m considering all kinds of variables and weighing my options.” He spoke a little louder. “If anyone’s watching me, you have three minutes to make your presence known.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“To anyone who’s listening.”

“Someone’s listening to us?”

“We’re going to find out.” Given their position between the trailers, he doubted anyone was listening, but it didn’t hurt to make sure.

Lauren looked around. “What do we do?”

“Wait until three minutes has expired.”

“Then what?”


We
aren’t going to do anything. I need you to watch my back, just like before.”

“You’re going over there again?”

“Yes, and I could be coming back in a big hurry, so be ready. When you see me enter the motel room, start the engine.”

Verifying the headlight knob was in the off position — not auto — he got out, tucked the suppressed SIG into his belt, and covered it with the sweatshirt.

“Lauren, maintain radio silence unless you see anyone approach the motel on foot.” He silently closed the Taurus’s door and heard Lauren lock it.

Taking the same route, he angled across the street, began a brisk walk along the motel’s sidewalk, and consciously slowed his breathing.

He turned right at the inside corner of the motel.

When he reached room 127, he reared back and kicked the door with all his strength.

 

Episode Five

 

Chapter 21

What Nathan saw caused rage, feral and deep.

Lying naked on the bed, a young Hispanic girl was blindfolded and gagged, with her wrists bound together. She’d obviously been assaulted multiple times.

The right side of her abdomen showed a fresh incision, secured by surgical staples.

Sitting on the bed next to her, a shirtless man held a can of beer, his face baring shock at the sudden intrusion. He dropped the can and reached for a nickel-plated .45, but not in time.

Nathan double-tapped him in the chest.

Suppressed, the subsonic rounds sounded like muffled firecrackers.

The guy grimaced and looked down at the raw holes before his head lolled to the side.

Nathan swung his SIG to the left.

The creep at the table dropped his food and held out his hands. “Voda said it was okay!”

“It’s not
okay
.” Nathan shot him in the throat.

The back of the guy’s neck exploded, spraying the wall beyond. His spinal cord severed, he fell forward and cracked his chin on the table.

Nathan tucked the SIG into his belt, pulled his Predator knife from its ankle sheath, and cut the rope binding the girl’s wrists. Pulling the bandanna from her mouth, he removed the blindfold.

She cringed away from him at the same time he heard movement in the bathroom.

Aiming a huge handgun, a third man appeared.

Nathan dived for cover beside the bed as the gun boomed. He sensed the bullet miss his head by inches.

The girl screamed.

The window shattered.

Lying on his side, he pulled his SIG and toggled the laser. From underneath the bed, he lined up on the man’s ankle and squeezed off a shot.

The man howled and cursed in Spanish.

Nathan fired again, destroying the guy’s other ankle.

His opponent collapsed to the floor, and for a brief instant, they locked eyes.

Nathan sent two bullets into the man’s rib cage before shooting his gun hand. Splattered with blood, the handgun slid across the bathroom’s linoleum and thumped against the wall.

Still screaming, the girl ran for the open door.

Nathan stuck out his foot and tripped her.

With no other choice, he wrapped his left arm around her waist. “I’m not going to hurt you!” he said in Spanish. “You’re safe now.”

Eyes wild, she struggled like a panicked cat, trying to twist free. When she attempted to bite his arm, he dropped his gun and locked her in a nelson.

“I’m here to rescue you!”

She stopped struggling and held still.

“That’s right, you’re safe now. Calm down.” This poor girl had been hysterical with fear, understandable given what she’d just endured. “I need you to get dressed as quickly as you can. Do you understand me?”

She nodded tightly.

He released her from the nelson but kept a firm grip on her arm. He didn’t want her bolting from the room.

“Do you speak English?” he asked, still in Spanish.

“No.”

Nathan pointed at the dead men. “They’ll never hurt you again.” He knew that telling her this would be an important step in her recovery. With the girl in tow, he hurried around the bed to assess the third man’s condition and check him for ID. Red-faced and coughing blood, the thug was fully dressed in nice clothes, probably the ringleader. Questioning him was pointless this guy couldn’t speak even if he wanted to. And he didn’t look like one of Voda’s men. Although Hispanic like the coyotes, he was clean-cut.

Nathan was about to pat the guy down, when Lauren’s voice screamed through his earpiece.


Nathan!

He looked toward the open door but didn’t see anything. “Get dressed,” he told the girl. “Quickly.”

Nathan peered around the doorjamb. From the direction of the motel’s office, two men ran toward the room, wielding compact Kalashnikovs.

Across the street, the Taurus’s engine roared as it shot out from between the trailers.

Shit! They had Lauren!

He directed the SIG’s laser onto the lead gunman and fired.

The man spun and tumbled to the asphalt.

A deafening roar ripped across the parking lot as the other gunman opened fire.

In a starlike pattern, white fire spit from the AK’s flash suppressor.

Again Nathan dived for cover, this time behind the brick wall that supported the shattered window. He felt the masonry vibrate as dozens of slugs slammed into the other side. To his right, the bedsheets jumped as bullets tore through the open door.

The girl!

She was okay. She’d been directly behind him in a bent-over position, putting on her underwear, during the AK’s barrage. The brick wall had shielded her.

He had to disable the Taurus before it got away.

From carpet level, he peered around the corner and placed the SIG’s laser on the Taurus’s right front tire. He was about to shoot, but to his surprise, it didn’t speed away.

It hopped the curb and barreled straight toward him.

The remaining gunman turned.

Nathan watched in awe as the Taurus plowed the guy down like a bowling pin.

The AK clattered away as the man cartwheeled over the hood and crashed into the windshield. Nathan’s mind registered a wiper blade breaking free at the same instant he understood what was happening.

Lauren was driving!

Its antilocks engaging, the Taurus thumped to a stop forty feet from the room.

Nathan turned back to the girl. “Grab the rest of your clothes. We’re leaving!” He gripped her by the arm above her abraded wrist and hurried out the door.

The man Lauren had rammed was attempting to crawl toward his weapon. Nathan lined up on his hip and sent a bullet.

The man yelled something foul and covered the wound.

Keeping a tight grasp on the girl, Nathan ran for the Taurus.

In the dim light of the parking lot, he watched Lauren climb across the center console and open the passenger door. Since Lauren and the girl were small enough to share the seat, he pushed the girl inside and slammed the door closed. In a fluid motion, he hopped across the Taurus’s hood and got behind the wheel.

Nathan tucked the SIG under his leg and smoked the tires, executing a perfect half-donut. Three seconds later, he made a screeching turn out of the motel’s parking lot and stomped the gas.

“Lauren, see if you can get the seat belt around both of you, then search her clothes. You’re looking for a tracking bug. Anything electronic, okay?”

“Okay!”

“Lauren, slow your breathing again.”

Nathan noticed it right away: a front-end shimmy.

The steering got spongy, and the Taurus lurched to the left.

Lauren must’ve blown a tire jumping the curb. It was immediately obvious this vehicle didn’t have run-flats. Its front-end slant was too severe.

In his rearview mirror, he saw a set of headlights bounce out of the motel’s parking lot. The headlights straightened as the vehicle accelerated in pursuit.

With a wrecked tire, he’d never outrun this new threat.

He pulled a fresh magazine from his pocket. “Lauren, reload the SIG.” He had only six shots left in the gun.

“I don’t know how!”

He silently cursed himself for not having shown her earlier how to do it. Scanning both sides of the road, he looked for a place to pull over. He needed a tactical location and saw an opportunity. Ahead on the right, a small truck park held several dozen semis.

Without hitting the brake, he rammed the chain-link gate. It came completely free from its hinges and slammed into the side of a semi’s trailer. Using the same truck to shield them from view, he brought the Taurus to a stop. A dust cloud swirled as he climbed out. He left the door open and reloaded the SIG. From the direction of the motel, he heard the roar of the pursuing vehicle’s engine.

“Stay in the car,” he said in Spanish. “Lauren, don’t let her get out.”

“She’s freaked! What do I do?”

“Hit the door-lock button. Help her get dressed. And search her clothes!”

Nathan ran to the cab of the semi and steadied his SIG on the approaching vehicle. It appeared to be a Hummer H2. He looked for a light bar or post-mounted spot indicating a law enforcement vehicle. Seeing neither, he painted the laser on the windshield and walked five shots low across its width. The glass went opaque.

The H2 veered into the truck park’s fence, taking out several posts before coming to a stop. Nathan sent two more bullets into its front tires and waited several seconds. Detecting no movement, he ran back to the Taurus and put a bullet in its other front tire. With both tires deflated, the Taurus would be easier to control, but he knew they wouldn’t get far before driving on the rims.

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