The Trap (Agent Dallas 3) (22 page)

Aaron was a criminal too, but not on the same scale. Yet the bureau had charged Aaron Mortlock with conspiracy to commit terrorist acts just for being connected to Shawn. In time, the director had dropped those charges in exchange for Aaron’s testimony against three other white-collar criminals who’d been running bank fraud and extortion rackets. It had all taken place before her time at the bureau, but it was widely rumored that the terrorism charges against Aaron had been fabricated to pressure him to turn on his criminal ring. But obviously, the white-collar criminal in the family knew how to make explosives too.

She had to know what he had in mind. “You’re going to use me to bomb a federal prison?”

He shook his head slowly, as if she were stupid. “Shawn is being transferred tomorrow, and we’re going to intercept him.”

Aaron’s talk of sabotaging prison supply trucks suddenly made sense. He must have planned to use the inner circle to unwittingly help him free his brother, but Luke had rejected the idea. Now Aaron was using her. But why? Did he know she was a federal agent or was she just convenient?

“The others think we’re going with them today on their mission, but we’re not. Please keep your mouth shut about it.” He held up a small black device that looked like a cell phone. “You’re one push away from death.”

So was he.

Another grim smile. “Yes, I’d get blown up too. But so would all your new friends. Or if you wait until we’re out there on the road to make a move, the explosive could take out another car, like some sweet family of five. You’re not going to let either of those things happen.” He waved the gun at her again. “And don’t forget this.”

If things went south, she would take a bullet before hurting someone else—or letting a domestic terrorist escape. But she would go along with whatever he wanted up until that point. Somewhere along the way, she would find an opportunity to stop him. She just had to keep her mind and body strong. “I’d like a drink of water, and I need to use the bathroom.” Her voice was scratchy.

“Not yet. When it’s time to leave.”

“I’d like the water now. My throat hurts.”

“Too bad. I have little sympathy for federal spies.”

So he did know. But how? She’d been so careful.

“What’s your real name?”

She weighed the pros and cons of telling him. She needed him to trust her, or at least see her as human. Besides, what did it matter now? They were both likely to be dead before the day was over. Finally, she said, “Dallas.”

“Just Dallas?”

“Yes.”

“I like it. I grew up in Texas.”

That explained a few things. “Does Luke know who you are?”

“Of course not.” Aaron let out a disgusted sound. “Luke still likes this country and thinks he can change how the government works. He doesn’t know how little chance he has.”

They both became aware of movement in the house—Cree thumping down the stairs, and the front door opening.

“It’s time.” Aaron stood. “The story is that we hooked up last night and we’re driving in together today. Luke won’t like it, but he won’t argue. He’ll be too hurt.”

“I should change. They’ll think it’s odd that I’m still in my running clothes.”

“No changing clothes. You can use the bathroom in here, with me watching, and then we’re heading out.” Aaron put the gun to her head, while he ripped up the tape off her arms “Remember, you’ll blow the whole house if you step out of line.” He pointed to his workbench. “And I have a second bomb that’s coming with us, in case you decide to commit heroic suicide. But please don’t make me use it. Shawn has plans for it.” Aaron chuckled again. “I almost didn’t have enough for the second one after the stupid dog ate some of the glycol.”

Treck.

Dallas wanted to head-butt him. Instead, she walked to the bathroom, moving slowly, painfully aware she probably wouldn’t survive this day. But at least Drager would get his takedown.

Luke stood in the shower, trying to clear his mind. He hadn’t slept well, then he’d gotten up early and gone out for a bike ride and nearly been hit by a car. The encounter had unnerved him. Feeling jittery was the last thing he needed today, when they would be conducting their most important—and most dangerous—mission. He needed to be calm and confident, but his headspace was moving in the wrong direction. He couldn’t stop thinking about Judge Bidwell taking millions of dollars to add years to prison sentences or incarcerate people when probation would have been more appropriate. The man was evil! Bidwell had even killed his court clerk to keep her from testifying. He knew it in his bones.

A scene played out in his head, where he confronted the judge and described in painful detail what prison was like for an eighteen-year-old kid. In his fantasy, he slammed the old man against a wall, got right in his face, and called him a maggot, a sociopath, and a killer. Luke had played out the confrontation over and over. Sometimes, he beat the judge with his fists, leaving him lying on the ground, crying like the cowardly piece of shit he was. But those mental exercises weren’t satisfying. He needed to do it in person—but the judge was dead. So not fair! If anyone ever needed to spend time in prison, it was J.D. Bidwell.

What had he done with the money? Had he lived in a mansion and driven a Ferrari? Did he still have a shitload of cash in the bank? Another thought hit him. Had the judge’s wife known about the payoffs? How could she not? Had she freely spent the blood money too?

Luke dressed and gathered what he needed for the day: cell phone, gloves, van key, and business credit card to keep stashed in the vehicle. What else? Instinct told him to leave his ID at home and refuse to speak if he was arrested. But that wasn’t going to happen, he told himself. They’d done their homework, and they had the senator on the ropes.

A knock at his door startled him. He turned, taking a long breath to settle his nerves. Abby charged in. “Are you ready? This is going to be fun!” Her eyes danced with excitement. Before he could respond, she blurted, “This will be even better than skydiving or rock climbing, the ultimate adventure.” Abby bounced on her feet as she talked.

Luke had never seen her like this. “It’s not an adventure. We’re not doing this for fun. I hope this isn’t about the adrenaline rush for you.”

“Oh please. You get off on the danger too. We all do.”

He would never admit that, even to himself. “I’m having second thoughts about this mission. It crosses a line.”

Abby lunged toward him, her face contorted with anger. “Don’t you dare back out. This is our chance to take a giant step forward. Decriminalizing pot at the federal level is the cornerstone.”

He knew she was right. But he finally realized what was going on. Abby was high. She was using again.
Oh god.
She’d probably started after she’d bought that meth for the failed mission to plant drugs on the governor. “You’re blasted.” Luke sat down, feeling defeated. “I’m not sure we should do this while you’re high.”

“Don’t say that.” She softened her tone. “I would never use again. I just had too much coffee.”

“Okay.” He didn’t believe her, but there was no point in arguing. He headed to the door, rushed into Abby’s room and looked around. She was right behind him, shouting and pounding his back. “What are you doing? Get out!”

Luke didn’t see any obvious signs of drug use. No needles or cotton balls or small mirrors with a light dusting of white powder. But Abby was smart enough to hide them, and he didn’t have time to search every drawer and container. If they still planned to hit the senator’s house today during their narrow window of opportunity, it was time to leave. He spun around to face Abby. “This issue isn’t over. We’ll deal with it later. But if you’re using, you’ll have to leave. We’ll pay for rehab if we can.”

“There is no issue!”

“I hope not. Let Cree know he’s riding with you, then get in the van. I’m taking my own truck.” Luke pounded up the stairs and knocked on Tara’s door. She didn’t respond. He rapped it again. “Hey, it’s time. We’re leaving soon.” He moved next door to Aaron’s room and did the same.

Aaron opened the door a few inches, looking haggard, the gray under his eyes more pronounced. “I’m ready,” Aaron said. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Hey, did you find Judge Bidwell’s address for me?” He’d asked Aaron about it the night before but hadn’t indicated it was important. Now Luke was in a hurry to know.

“It’s in Silver Spring, 1652 Highland.” Aaron grinned through the narrow opening. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Good advice.
Could he follow it? “Hey, have you seen Tara?” Luke glanced next door, expecting her to step out any moment.

“She’s with me.” Aaron shifted on his feet and glanced away. “We kinda hooked up, and she’s going to ride with me.”

What?
A jolt of jealousy seized him. He’d thought Tara was into him. “That’s unexpected,” he finally said. “As long as she does her job as lookout on the other end of the street.”

“Don’t worry, she will.”

“Okay, but let’s roll.” Luke walked away, feeling more rattled than before. Tara and Aaron. He wouldn’t have predicted that in a million years. It must have been a pity fuck. Tara had felt sorry for the older guy because his days were numbered. Luke tried to forget it. He had to stay focused on the mission.

Downstairs, he filled a thermos of water and grabbed an apple from the fridge, then went outside. Abby and Cree stood next to the van arguing about who would drive. “Cree’s driving,” Luke announced. “End of discussion.” He snatched the keys from Abby’s hand. The van had been purchased with money from the private donor, but it was registered under Cree’s name. He’d bought the truck from Hana but left it in her name. Luke had never adopted an alias, but he was off the grid and didn’t use his name on any paperwork.

“Fuck you!” Abby climbed in the passenger’s side.

Another wave of doubt rolled over him. “Cree, I think Abby’s high. And I’m nervous about doing this mission with her.”

Cree’s shoulders fell. “Are you sure? Maybe it’s just adrenaline.”

“Possibly. But she’s been irritable and moody lately and we don’t really need her today.”

“Which is why I’m not worried.” His young friend shrugged. “Abby’s part isn’t critical. But we can’t back out. This is our biggest shot at a legislative change.”

“I just thought you had a right to know my concerns.”

“That’s cool.”

“Are the coveralls in the van?”

“Yes they are.” Cree put up his fist for a bump. “Let’s do this.”

Luke bumped back, then headed for his truck. After starting the engine, he looked up at the house. Were Aaron and Tara coming? Next to him, Cree backed the van out and started down the drive. Luke backed up too, watching the entry. The door opened and Tara stepped out. She saw him looking and gave a small wave. No smile though.

He waved back and shifted gears. Did Tara regret her hookup with Aaron? Maybe she was nervous about the mission too. Any rational person would be. He wondered how long Tara would stay with the group. Now that they knew they could trust her, it was time to let her get her car and move in a few more personal things.

Or maybe they should disband for a while after their big win today. The feds would double their effort to find them. And with their main donation cut off and Abby relapsed, it would be a good time to give up the farmhouse, go their separate ways, and lay low for a while. Luke decided to make the announcement that evening. He pressed the gas and followed the van down the driveway, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything felt wrong.

Forty minutes later, when he crossed the river into DC, he called Cree. It took the other driver a while to answer. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think we should do this mission.”

A pause. “Are you afraid to go back to prison?”

Hell yes, he was afraid.
“I just have a bad feeling about today. Too many things feel off to me.”

“Hang on a minute.” In the background, Cree told Abby what Luke had just said.

She responded loud enough for him to hear. “Too bad. We’re going anyway.”

Cree cut in. “I’m with Abby. We’re going ahead. Especially if Aaron and Tara still have our backs.”

“You’ll have to ask them. Tara is riding with Aaron.”

“I’ll call him now,” Cree said. Another pause. “I don’t blame you for not wanting to take the risk. None of us did ten years, and we won’t face the same sentence as you.”

The unspoken reality. Because he was mixed race and darker skinned, he would be punished more harshly. “Thanks for understanding. But I’m not afraid just for myself. I just don’t think we should do a home invasion. Because that’s what the feds will call it, even if it’s just a dog in the house.”

“I disagree. It’s a B&E at most,” Cree asserted. “The senator won’t even press charges if he wants to keep the child porn suppressed.”

Luke was done arguing. “It’s your decision. I’m out.”

A long moment of silence. “Are you going back home?”

“No, I need some closure with Bidwell and possibly his wife. Be safe.” Luke hung up and set the GPS in his car to find the judge’s address.

“You’re driving.” Aaron nudged her toward the car with the end of his handgun. Being at the wheel was good, Dallas decided. Her hands would be free, and she would be in control. She could plow his side of the vehicle into a tree at the first opportunity. Which might set off the bomb unless she managed to get out.

At the last moment, Aaron said, “I changed my mind, you’ll ride shotgun.”

Every nerve in her body screamed,
Don’t get in the car!
In college, when she’d watched thriller movies, she’d mentally yelled at anyone who climbed into a vehicle at gunpoint. Women especially—if the bad guy was a rapist or a serial killer and someone was nearby to call for help. People survived gunshot wounds every day. But no one survived an explosive going off under their jacket. And if Aaron used the gun, the bullet would enter her brain, killing her instantly. She had no options.

Aaron pulled a roll of duct tape from his bulky jacket and held it out to her. “Tape your wrists together.”