Undercover Texas (17 page)

* * *

L
EONA
TRIED
TO
QUELL
THE
throbbing in her head. She had to concentrate. Kent had gone over the edge.

She couldn’t reconcile the man she’d fought evil beside for all these years with the madman who would sacrifice an innocent woman and child—and one of his best operatives—for revenge.

Heartbroken, she sighed. “I should have known Miller would want revenge. He handled his son’s murder too well. Even though the general was devastated, he just completely immersed himself in work.” She straightened. “We have to stop him before he gets to Hunter and his family, wherever they are.”

“Leona, come here.” Trace’s voice sounded odd.

She peered at the computer. Trace was scrolling through hundreds of pictures of Erin Jamison and her little boy. An attached file showed locations, cell call logs, copies of day care interviews and even well-baby check notes from the clinic just outside Eglin.

“Miller’s been watching Erin Jamison for a year,” Trace said. He pointed to the name of a pediatrician. “This guy is on contract to us. I personally pushed through his security clearance last year at the general’s request.”

A shiver started at the base of Leona’s spine and worked its way up. She scanned down farther.
Immunization. Brandon Jamison. TX9125. Insertion completed. Activated.

Trace reeled back and met Leona’s gaze.

“He inserted a chip in that baby? Oh, my God,” she said. She pulled out her phone and punched in a number.

“You think Hunter will answer?” Trace asked. “I sure as hell wouldn’t after everything that’s gone down.”

“He has to.” Leona said a small prayer.

“Leona.” Hunter’s voice was reserved and suspicious on the other end of the phone.

“Listen to me. Please. Miller is behind everything. You’ve got to get out of wherever you are now and keep moving. He put a tracking chip inside your son. You have to remove it or you don’t stand a chance. That’s how they keep finding you. They want Erin and the prototype.”

“You’re too late, Leona.” Hunter’s voice was flat, cold and dangerous. “They drugged me with a paralytic agent and took her. Brandon, too.

“My family is gone.”

* * *

E
RIN
’
S
CHEEK
THROBBED
WITH
A
pulse of its own. It had to be broken based on the level of pain shooting through her face. She struggled to keep her mind clear, watching out the window, memorizing every turn, every road.

They’d just passed a giant roadrunner statue in Fort Stockton.

Now the men careened off onto a deserted road just outside the small Texas town, sending Erin tumbling. She kept hold of Brandon, but the tire iron slid, almost hitting the side panel of the SUV. She grabbed the metal bar before the sound gave away that she had the weapon.

The vehicle slowed and finally stopped. Her heart rate tripled. She could do this. She had to escape or leave a trail for Hunter to follow. She set Brandon on the carpet behind her, as far from the tailgate as possible, then turned to face the back of the vehicle.

She clutched the tire iron and waited, muscles taut with apprehension.

A flash of headlights reflected in the back window, somewhat blinding her. The four doors of the SUV opened, and the men stepped out to greet the newcomers.

Two rounded to the rear of the car. She’d hoped for only one. She’d have to move fast.

The tail lifted.

Erin didn’t hesitate. She swung the tire iron like a bat and hit one of the masked men on the side of his head.

Bones crunched under the blow. He didn’t even shout. He slumped to the ground.

Without hesitating, she swung at the other man, but he was too fast for her. He grabbed the tire iron and threw it to the ground, then yanked her forward and pulled back his fist.

“Stand down, soldier,” a harsh voice ordered from the side. “I need her identifiable. She looks like she’s already been beaten.”

The attacker lowered his arm and backed away, glaring at her.

A man in full dress uniform walked into view. “Dr. Jamison. We meet at last. You’re a bit more resourceful than I expected.” He looked down at the crumpled man at his feet. “Maybe I should have recruited you for my team.”

Erin took in all the medals across his chest and realization hit. “General Miller?”

The man Hunter trusted with his life. The man who she’d hoped would help her. He was behind all this?

Her body sagged.

“Duct-tape her hands and feet, then put her and the kid in the back of my car. And, gentlemen, make sure she can’t reach any weapons this time.”

They grabbed her and secured her hands behind her back before tossing her into the back of a white SUV, its engine still running. They thrust a squealing Brandon in next to her. He crawled over her body, crying to be held, but she couldn’t. She could only nuzzle his cheek.

Miller slid into the driver’s seat.

One of the black-clad men came up alongside and tapped the glass.

Miller slid down the window. “Yes?”

“Do you want us to follow you, sir?”

“No, I’ll take it from here. Dump the SUV and return to headquarters. I’ll debrief you when I return.” He hesitated. “By the way, thank the men for me. You did your country a great service here tonight.”

The man saluted.

Erin’s gaze followed him and his two buddies. They picked up the unconscious fourth man and dumped him in the black SUV. Moments later, they hit the lights and started to drive away.

“You really have been a pain to deal with, Dr. Jamison. It’s your fault I will lose four perfectly capable men.”

He pressed a button, and the black SUV exploded into flames.

“Remember what you’ve seen. If that’s the way I treat my friends, you don’t want to be my enemy.”

* * *

H
UNTER
HEARD
L
EONA
’
S
GASP
.
She hadn’t known.

Or else she was a damned good actress. He knew that about her already.

“Why should I believe you about Miller?” Hunter asked.

“Kent tried to kill me tonight, right after he murdered Terence Mahew. He’s lost it. I should have seen it coming.”

Hunter couldn’t be sorry about Mahew, but he would never have imagined Miller would try to kill Leona.

“Graham, this is Trace Padgett. You have no reason to trust me, but we can help. Miller has taken the jet and he’s heading to Texas. I’m assuming you’re there.”

Hunter remained silent.

“According to Miller’s computer, the drug they probably shot you up with is a synthetic form of curare and nicotine. It was used in the fifties as a paralytic but abandoned because it was too dangerous. Miller’s research teams worked the kinks out. If the info is correct, two hours after the injection, you’ll regain full movement and your mental faculties will work as before.”

“I don’t care about myself. What’s the frequency of the tracking device in Brandon? Can you find it?”

“Each chip is different,” Padgett said. “I’m searching the database now.”

Hunter groaned in anguish. “Hurry, damn it.”

“Hunter,” Leona said softly. “I’m so very, very sorry.”

“Why did Miller take them?” Hunter asked.

“He’s using them as a lure for Ali. The terrorist thinks he’s getting Dr. Jamison and the prototype.”

“Akbar Ali? The terrorist responsible for Matt’s death?” Hunter cursed softly. He could understand the need for revenge. He’d seen Matt’s decapitated body. If that had been Brandon...he’d kill the bastard.

But he would never use an innocent woman and a child to do it.

Not ever.

“Find them.”

“I’ve got something,” Padgett said. “When do Noah and Daniel get there?”

Hunter didn’t answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking—”

“Scorpion,”
Padgett interjected quietly.

Hunter gripped the phone tighter. He recognized the code word. He also understood the leap of faith Padgett had just taken. And the connection he had revealed.

He’d been contacted by Logan Carmichael.

Trace Padgett was a man Hunter could trust.

Leona had remained still in the background, but Hunter could just imagine the wheels turning in her head.

“They’ll be here in less than an hour,” Hunter revealed.

“Their plane has the equipment on board that can track the chip. Write this down.” Padgett rattled off the frequency.

Hunter finished entering the numbers into his phone, and headed for his duffel. “If I get my family out of this alive, Padgett, we’re going to talk. Then I’m buying you a drink. You, too, Leona.”

“I think it will call for champagne,” Leona added. “And formula.”

* * *

H
UNTER
PACED
AT
THE
END
of the Triple C’s runway, waiting for Noah and Daniel’s plane to land. His body and mind were finally back to normal, if abject terror and fear counted among normal things.

Padgett had been right about the drug. Almost exactly two hours later, the effects had worn off.

Blake positioned his sheriff’s car at one end of the runway, lights shining onto the pavement. Hunter waited at the other end to set fire to a line of lighter fluid. The airstrip was always used in the daytime, but both Blake and Hunter had seen enough drug plane setups to rig something similar here.

He glanced at his watch again, unable to believe only a minute had passed since he’d checked it last. Time was crawling, and Hunter was ready to lose it. Erin and Brandon had been gone for so long, and the grid pattern they’d have to search for one little tracking signal was getting bigger all the time.

Hunter’s only hope was that Miller needed Erin alive.

Did he still need Brandon, now that Miller had the bait Ali wanted? Hunter prayed that was case. Even so, time was running out.

A plane’s engine buzzed above him. The aircraft dipped one wing, then circled around. Hunter set the lighter to the fluid, and a line of fire rose into the air, delineating the airstrip.

The Lear landed with room to spare, not even close to mowing down the cop car.

Once the plane had stopped and turned around, Blake pulled his vehicle to the side. “I heard on the scanner that a black SUV was found burning near Fort Stockton a little while ago. I checked with local authorities there, and they just called back. They found evidence of explosives and four charred bodies inside.”

Hunter’s knees buckled, and he grasped the car.

“No. Hunter. None of them were a baby or a woman. I don’t know if these were the same four guys who took Erin and Brandon, but someone is playing for keeps and leaving no witnesses. Be careful.”

Hunter nodded but couldn’t speak. The lump in his throat wouldn’t let any words escape, even ones of thanks.

“Good luck, Hunter,” Blake said. “If there’s anything else I can do, let me know.”

He watched the sheriff disappear into the night. Another man who’d proven himself worthy of trust, especially in a time of need. Logan knew some good people.

Would it all be enough?

The door of the Lear opened and Logan’s partner, Daniel, peered into the night. “You ready to go, Graham?”

Hunter gathered everything up quickly and climbed into the plush plane. He filled in Noah and Daniel on the latest as he stowed his gear.

“Okay, the burning car gives us a direction to start. Buckle up,” Noah said from the captain’s seat. “I’m taking the fastest route south possible. We’ll have a car waiting for us wherever we land. Soon as we see a signal, the order goes out.”

Daniel limped over to the seat next to Hunter, instead of going into the cockpit as usual. Hunter wondered how screwed up Daniel was after the torture he’d undergone in Bellevaux.

“You’re not flying the plane tonight?” Hunter asked.

His friend shook his head. “Not my thing anymore. A little too tight quarters up there at night,” he said, his grip white-knuckled. “Feels like I’m trapped in a closet.”

“You okay to do this?”

“The shrinks think I’m nuts, but that’s nothing new. I just happen to like wide-open spaces and big blue skies these days,” he admitted.

Hunter studied Daniel, saw the scars on his face and hands. Would Daniel be all right? Hunter couldn’t risk Erin and Brandon’s safety if Daniel lost it.

As though he’d read Hunter’s mind, Daniel lifted his gaze. “I won’t let you down. I promise. Pissed off conquers fear, and this situation’s done that and more for me.”

Once they’d taken off, Daniel pulled out a metal briefcase from beneath his seat. He opened the case and flipped on a switch. “What’s the frequency of your son’s chip?”

Hunter pulled up the information on his phone and relayed the numbers.

Daniel recalibrated the receiver, and a tiny beep sounded. “We should be able to pick up the sound within a thousand-mile radius.”

“They could have traveled farther than that.”

Daniel sat back in his seat. “We’ll grid the area out and find them.” He laid out a map.

Hunter studied the southern half of the United States. “Their first pickup was scheduled on the Gulf of Mexico off the Florida coast,” he said. “The burning SUV was south. If I wanted to make someone disappear, I’d get them out of the country as fast as I could.”

“Miller has a plane,” Daniel pointed out. “If he already picked them up...”

Hunter cursed. He refused to consider what might happen. They stared at the receiver, their tension growing with each mile of airspace eaten up.

Hunter knew Noah was pushing the Lear to its limit. It had been too long, and they still had nothing.

Suddenly, a buzz sounded.

Hunter studied the tracker, then the map.

“Got ’em,” Daniel said, with a relieved smile on his face. “You were right, Hunter. They’re not far from the border.”

Hunter stared at the small moving dot. He touched the monitor as if it could connect him to his son and the love of his life.