Ultimate Kill (Book 1 Ultimate CORE Trilogy) (CORE Series) (34 page)

“I don’t understand.”

Christian glanced at his watch. “We only have three minutes until four. There’s really no time to waste. As part of your welcome home gift, I’m giving you one of two choices. Shoot Harrison in the head with this.” He pulled a gun from behind his back and waved it. “Or you’ll detonate the next bomb.”

 
She looked at Harrison’s profile. The man clenched his jaw and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he turned to her. “Kill me. Please.”

No way
. Her heart pounded hard. She couldn’t do it. But she also couldn’t trigger the next explosion. Other than Christian, no one else needed to die today. Anger consumed her and ate away at her fear. “You promised. Ric told me you’d stop with the damned messages once I came to you.”
 

“I changed my mind.” He shrugged. “I decided you kept me waiting too long and now you deserve to be punished for your insult.” He looked at his watch again. “Two and a half minutes. What’ll be, Rose? Harrison’s life, or detonating the bomb?”

“I can’t shoot him.”

“I can do it for you. You’d probably miss anyway.” Christian raised the gun and aimed it at Harrison’s head. “Two minutes, Rose. Make a choice. Harrison or the bomb?”
 

*

Bloomington, Indiana
 

2:58 p.m. Central Daylight Saving Time

Vince slammed the truck into park. The damned thing had been too big to park in the garage and he’d had a hard time finding a spot large enough in the campus parking lot. After circling a couple of times, he’d discovered an opening on the street about a half a block from one of the hospital’s entrances. Not the entrance he wanted, and the location would require him to run through half the hospital to the area where the ultrasound would be done, but at least he’d made it in time.
 

His cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID and quickly answered. “Hey, hon,” he said as he made his way inside the back end of the truck. “I’m here. Just locking up.”

“Thank God.” Anna let out a sigh. “The tech finished her last appointment early and is ready to take me back.”

By the time Anna undressed, climbed on the table and the ultrasound tech began placing the goop they used during the testing on Anna’s stomach, he could be there. “I’ll be less than five minutes. Plenty of time. Let me go so I can make it.”

“Okay. See you in a few.”

He pocketed the cell phone. As he rushed toward the front of the truck, his boot caught on the dolly and he fell forward. He grabbed the shelf. A package fell to the floor, followed by the telltale sound of shattered glass. He glanced down and swore. Liquid oozed from the cardboard box, along with the strong scent of alcohol.
 

Just my luck
.

Before the booze—that was obviously not packed properly—contaminated the packages on the floor of the truck, he moved to the cab. He searched for the cheap paper towels, a standard BH-Xpress supply. Not his usual truck, he finally found the roll buried under a medical kit near the fire extinguisher. After tearing off a long sheet, he tossed it on the wet spot. “Damn it,” he muttered. He didn’t need this right now. The towel did jack to soak up the liquid and he had to apply more.
 

He ripped off another long sheet. He’d make sure the alcohol didn’t reach the other packages, then forget about it until after the ultrasound.
 

But he’d only give the mess another minute.
 

Time was ticking.

*

Norfolk, Virginia

3:59:35 p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time

Although a chill ran through her, Naomi’s underarms grew damp, along with her forehead. She stared at the gun Christian held, then to the laptop on the table, then to Harrison. The choice between Harrison’s life and the possible casualties from the detonated bomb weighed heavy on her heart and conscience. In the depths of her soul, she knew the only solution.

“Kill me.” She shoved off the sofa and pounded her hand against her chest. “That’s my choice. Put me out of my misery and kill
me
, not Harrison and not anyone else.”

Christian looked thoughtful for a split second before grinning. “I intend to eventually, but not before we’ve had a chance to get reacquainted and take a walk down memory lane. Twenty seconds, Rose. Hurry and decide. Or maybe I should just do both. Shoot Harrison
and
detonate the bomb.”

Ric laughed softly. She ignored the sick bastard and looked down at the laptop, then slid her gaze to Harrison.
 

Tears trailed down her cheeks as she stared at Harrison. The acceptance, sadness and pity in his eyes filled her with despair. Their situation was both dire and hopeless.
 

She’d been raised in a good, loving home. She’d been taught to be empathetic, to show kindness and put others needs before her own.
 

What had she done to deserve this? Why her? Why couldn’t the bastard have left her alone?

Outrage and fury blackened her heart, while misery weakened her convictions. She’d stopped feeling sorry for herself years ago and had accepted her fate. She didn’t need Harrison’s pity. If anything, she pitied him. With a gun to his head, he obviously wasn’t here by choice and, at the moment, his fate looked bleaker than hers.
 

“Twelve seconds, Rose,” Christian taunted. “You better hurry up and decide. I’d hate to have to kill Harrison
and
set off the detonator.”

“Don’t do this. Please, Christian. I’m here. You have me now.”

“Are you begging me?”

God, she hated him. “Yes.”

“Get on your knees and beg.”

She dropped to her knees. “Please, Christian.”

Ric’s laugh grew louder.
 

Harrison’s breath grew labored.

“Five seconds. What will you do if I spare his life and not set the explosion?”

“Anything,” she said on a sob.
 

“Promise?” Christian asked and lowered the gun a fraction.

The modicum of relief did nothing to slow her heart rate. “Yes.”
 

“Liar.” He raised the gun and aimed it at Harrison’s head. “Time’s up.”

“I’m not lying. I’ll do anything. Please. Don’t—”

Harrison lurched forward. “I’m as good as dead,” he muttered and hit a key on the laptop.
 

Panic seized her lungs and stole her breath. She reached for his wrist, but the damage had been done. In a split second, that single key, that simple press of a button changed the lives of many. How many just died? How many lives had she destroyed?

“You insolent, fucking fool,” Christian shouted. “You’re right. You
are
as good as dead.”

She whipped her head toward Christian, just as he pulled the trigger.

And screamed.

PART III

The future depends on what you do today.

— Mahatma Gandhi

Chapter 14

GUN RAISED, JAKE spun to the right. Filled with primal fear, he sprinted across the second floor of the warehouse toward the stairs.
 

His skin pricked with terror. His heart pounded hard.
 

Naomi
.

If he lived to be one hundred, he’d never forget that chilling scream. He had to find her. Now.

Dante caught up with him. “Third floor. Go.”

Taking two steps at a time, careful to keep silent, he rushed up the stairs. When he reached the third floor landing, he stopped and pinned himself against the wall near the metal door. Dante did the same on the opposite wall next to the door. “Try the handle,” Dante whispered.

Praying the door wasn’t bolted shut, Jake wrapped his sweaty palm around the handle and slowly turned it toward him. After a soft click, the door eased open. With one eye, he peered through the small crack he’d made, angled his head and scoped the area. He slipped back and turned to Dante.

“Empty. Long hallway. Three doors, all closed.”

Dante gave him a single nod. “I’ll text Rachel.”

“No.” He didn’t want to go against Ian’s orders, but knew he would. Naomi’s life was more important that Ian’s precious evidence.
 

A muscle flexed in Dante’s jaw. “You’re a Marine. You know the drill. We follow protocol.”

“Fuck that and turn it around. Would you sit on your ass and wait? Or would you go after what’s yours?”

Dante let out a short sigh. “Fine. But we don’t—”

Jake opened the door and edged into the hallway. He didn’t care what Dante had to say. He wasn’t a Marine following orders and protocol. This wasn’t Iraq and he wasn’t fighting insurgents.
 

He was fighting for Naomi’s life.

With his steps muted by the carpet lining the hall, he rushed to the far end and pressed his ear against the door. Nothing. He held his breath and turned the knob. In his peripheral vision, he caught Dante behind him, gun raised and aimed at the door.
 

Confident Dante would shoot whoever was on the other side should they rush them, he cracked open the door, then released a quiet sigh. Utility closet.

Dante tapped his shoulder and nodded toward the next door.
 

Jake took a few steps, then pressed his ear against the wood. “I hear something,” he whispered. “I’m gonna check.”

Dante knocked his hand away from the door knob. “This much,” he said, holding his index finger and thumb a half an inch apart.
 

Keeping his gun raised near the side of his face, Jake slowly turned the knob and cracked open the door.
 

“You sick bastard,” he heard Naomi cry. Grateful she was alive and pissed as hell, he glanced at Dante. The relief on the other man’s face matched his own.
 

A man laughed.
Hunnicutt?
Damn it, he wished he had a visual.
 

“You should have seen your face when I pulled the trigger,” the man said, and Jake recognized Hunnicutt’s voice from the earlier press conference. “I wish I had a picture of it. Wait. I just had another brilliant idea. Ric, you’ll have to bring the camera out once we’re home. I’m sure we can come up with ways to make Rose look just as horrified.”

“It would be my greatest pleasure,” Ric said with a chuckle.

Damn, he wanted to kill Ric Mancini, too.

“Come, Rose,” Hunnicutt said. “Let’s make you more comfortable. Sit next to me. Santiago, turn on the TV. I want Rose to see the damage she’s caused.”

*

Harrison hadn’t crapped his pants since he was four, but he’d come damn near close minutes ago. Honey Badger was a twisted fuck. When he’d pulled the trigger and Rose had screamed, Harrison thought he was a dead man. Until he heard a click, followed by the badger and Ric’s laughter. The prick had played Russian roulette and had, unfortunately, let him live.
 

Holding Rose by the arm, Hunnicutt dragged her to his stupid throne chair. “On your knees,” he ordered, then called to Santiago. “Tie her to the chair.” As Santiago secured Rose to the leg of the chair, Hunnicutt looked to Harrison. “It’s fitting for a beautiful woman to be enslaved to her master, don’t you think?”

Harrison locked eyes with Rose, then quickly looked away. He didn’t want to see her red, tearstained face or the fear in her eyes. He didn’t want to worry about her safety when he had his own and Mickey’s on his mind. It was only a matter of time before Honey Badger killed them. Then the woman would be on her own.
 

Hell, he couldn’t let that happen. At least his death would probably be quick. Hers—from the way Hunnicutt had spoken, it sounded as if she wouldn’t get off as easily. Just thinking of the inhumane things Hunnicutt and Ric would do to her had bile rising in the back of his throat.
 

Throughout the day he’d been flip-flopping between wanting to die and wanting to survive in order to see Hunnicutt caught and justice served. With Rose finally here, he had a new mission. Save the girl. But how could he do that when he couldn’t figure out a way to save himself and Mickey?

“I think Harrison is mad at me,” Hunnicutt said to Rose. “Apparently he has no sense of humor and doesn’t care to be the butt of a joke.” He shrugged. “Ric, after you find news about the bombing, see to those refreshments.”

Ric lifted the TV remote and changed the channel to CNN.
 

When Rose gasped, Harrison leaned forward and stared at the TV. The incinerated shell of a black BH-Xpress delivery truck blazed outside of a large building. As firefighters turned the hose on the truck, bits of burning debris and ash floated through the air, along with thick, charcoal grey smoke. The sidewalk, where the truck had been parked, as well as the street, had been blackened from the blast. Pedestrians ran and shouted, while police and firefighters struggled to free a driver from an overturned car that must have been driving past the truck when it had exploded.