Breaking Away (49 page)

Will grabbed her arm and forced her back, his grip hard enough to bruise. He raised a large black pistol and pointed it at her face. The hole at the end of the barrel gaped at her, huge, threatening. Her limbs lost all strength and she couldn’t catch her breath. Where had he gotten a gun?

“Close the door, start the car, and pull away,” he growled, his jaw set, his eyes narrowed.

She couldn’t move.

He grabbed her by the back of the neck with his free hand and squeezed so hard she felt the pain all the way down both arms. “Do what I say or I’m going to shoot you now.”

Sam gripped the door handle and shut the door. Though it caught, she hadn’t the strength to slam it completely. She started the car and pulled away.

CHAPTER 36

F
lash sank into the cushions of the sitting room couch. He’d expected to be handcuffed and interrogated at the police station. The Bellagio Hotel room proved much more comfortable. And so far no one had whipped out handcuffs. He’d carried his weapon in a taped shoebox, so there would be no misunderstanding that he was surrendering. And now there was just one more thing the FBI wanted him to do before the Navy got his ass.

After nearly half an hour of going over the same ground four times, Flash had had enough. He glanced at his watch. Where was Sam? She was half an hour late.

“Have you got somewhere to be, Lieutenant?” Barnett asked, the snide tone grating.

“Yeah. I have a date with a guy who’s already tried to kill me once. And this time he’s brought some buddies to try and finish the job.” He eyed Barnett. “Want to trade places?”

Barnett looked away.

The only person in the room he trusted was Captain Jackson. The captain had always been a hardass, but he’d proven to be a stand-up guy during this whole deal.

The two FBI guys, Russell and Pitt, were keeping their mouths shut and doing a Blues Brothers impression with their dark suits and dark shades. Russell, the tall one, looked a little like Jeff Goldblum. Pitt, the heavier stocky one, had to have played football. Both appeared fit and alert. “Why are you two guys here?” Flash asked.

Russell spoke for the two of them. “We’re here to observe and to make sure the chain of custody remains intact.”

“Chain of custody?”

Russell spoke for the two of them. “You, Lieutenant. You’ll be our star witness against Gilbert. We can’t let anything happen to you.”

“How do you plan to keep me safe?” he asked.

The man’s face hardened. “By any means possible.”

So the FBI was pissed one of their own had switched sides and been operating right under their noses. Or maybe not. “How long have you known about him?”

“Since he filed assault charges against you, and we found your surveillance cameras in the apartment. We’ve been gathering data right along with you the whole time.”

“Good.”

“We got to your safety deposit box in San Diego before Gilbert did, and we have the bogus orders he sent you,” Pitt said, his voice gravelly, as though he’d suffered some kind of vocal damage.

Flash’s pulse skyrocketed and every nerve seemed to fire at once. “I had hoped it was a paperwork snafu.” Geez, he was fucked.

Pitt shook his head. “We intend to honor the orders as they stand on our end, so you can relax. As far as the FBI is concerned, you’ve been acting as an agent since first taking on the assignment in Iraq. As long as we recover the hundred thousand you got for the exchange.”

“It’s safe, and you’ll get it.”

Russell nodded.

“And the assault charges?” Flash asked.

“We won’t be pursuing those, since you were only indirectly responsible for Gilbert’s injuries.”

The relief was almost numbing. One federal agency down, two more to go.

As far as he knew the only thing NCIS wanted him for was AWOL.

How long would the military give him? Two years? Ten? He’d played it down to Sam and offered her reassurances he knew weren’t true. He didn’t expect her to wait for him, but he had expected her to be here. Where the hell was she? Worry burrowed into his gut. Had something happened to Joy? She’d have called. He eyed his phone where it sat across the room on a cabinet.

Agent Cooper spoke, breaking into his thoughts. “Whatever happens Lieutenant, don’t let Gilbert or his associates into the house. He’ll want to recover the artifacts and the money, and he needs you alive to do that, so we don’t believe he’ll come out shooting. We want everything to go down out in the open. We can offer you more cover in front of the house. As soon as he asks about the contraband we’ll move in.”

“I got it the first ten times you outlined the plan, agent. I need my weapon back.”

When Cooper hesitated, he shook his head. “You really expect me to go into this thing unarmed? If Gilbert decides to shoot it out instead of surrender, I’ll be the first one he’ll shoot at. He killed Dobson, his partner. And he believes I’ve had his merchandise for ten months. Why do you think he’s brought along backup?”

“You’re still a federal agent, Lieutenant,” Cooper reminded him.

“Yeah, I know.” Until they took his rank and his freedom. He’d had time to accept it, but it still ate at his gut and his heart. For seven years, he’d given the Navy his all. Trained, sacrificed, ate, slept, and lived the life twenty-four/seven, because it was the SEAL way, and it was what he’d signed on to do. He’d served his country in every way he could. And after everything was said and done, none of it would matter now. He’d known it would probably go down this way.

“Why didn’t you pick these guys up at the airport in San Diego?” Flash asked.

“They caught private transport minutes before our agents got there,” Pitt said.

Cooper moved to the cabinet and picked up his personal belongings. “With as much firepower as Gilbert is bringing with him, it would be too dangerous to try and take him at the airport here. Too many innocent bystanders. The house is isolated enough to ensure no one gets hurt. And thanks to our FBI friends, we know he’s heading there as soon as he touches down.”

Barnett’s phone rang and every eye turned in his direction. “’Gilbert and his crew just landed,” he announced. “We have a fifteen-minute window to get everyone in place. We need to go.”

“We have agents on their way to your apartment, Lieutenant.” Pitt said. “They should be in place before you get there.”

Flash nodded. “Can I have my personal items back now?” Flash asked.

Cooper handed back his wallet and the envelope he’d had in his pocket. He gritted his teeth in irritation. It had been opened.

“I’m sorry I opened it, Lieutenant.” Her brown eyes held compassion. “You’ll have time to say your good-byes before we leave.”

Without answering, he accepted the Sig Saur P226 from her, loaded the magazine, and stuck it in his waistband at the small of his back. He scanned the room for Captain Jackson. Approaching him he said, “A minute of your time, sir?”

Jackson led the way to the bedroom area of the room and turned to face him.

“I appreciate all you’ve done for me, sir.”

“You’re welcome. We’ll have time to discuss everything later on the trip back to San Diego. We’re all going on the same flight.”

Flash nodded. “Should something unexpected happen, I’d appreciate it if you’d give this to my girl, sir.” He offered Jackson the envelope.

“Girl?” Jackson asked.

“Samantha Cross, the woman who owns the apartment I’ve been renting.” His throat worked as he swallowed.

“Admiral Clarence is working with the FBI and NCIS to try and smooth things out, Flash.”

“I appreciate it, sir. But we both know the Navy has its own way of looking at unauthorized absences.” He looked away for a moment as he struggled to maintain his composure. “I appreciate you backing me up here, sir. Otherwise I’d already be in handcuffs.”

“I’m coming along for the ride, so I’ll be there when all this is over,” Jackson said.

“Good. You deserve it as much as I do. Is my team okay, sir?”

“They deployed in your absence. They’ll be back within the month. You’ve missed a lot. We’ll catch up on the plane.”

Flash nodded. And he’d missed their deployment. He’d let his guys down. Regret pooled in his chest.

“We have to go,” Barnett said. “Cooper and I will be riding with you. We’ve already called for your van to be brought around. Gilbert will think something’s suspicious if he sees one of our vehicles.”

In the elevator on the way down, Flash checked his phone. No calls or messages from Sam. Had she decided she couldn’t handle this? He found her number and pushed it.

“No calls, Carney,” Barnett said.

What was he going to do in a crowded elevator, wrestle him for his phone? “Bite me, Barnett.” The call went directly to voice mail.

Something was wrong. No way Sam would bail. He closed the phone. His breathing hitched and his stomach muscles tightened with anxiety. Something was wrong.

“Where are we going?” Sam asked. Every nerve in her body jittered with fear. Her leg bobbed up and down on the gas pedal, making it difficult for her to control the pressure.

The wind whistled through the crack in the door, annoying and loud.

“To your grandmother’s house. You’re going to pack a bag for you and Joy, then we’ll pick her up from day care. We’re taking a little trip.”

“Where?”

“You’ll find out when we get there. Just keep driving.”

They pulled to a stop at a red light.

“Fix the goddamn door before a cop stops us,” he demanded. He shoved the gun forward. “Don’t try anything. I don’t have to shoot you to hurt you with this.”

No, he didn’t. Her neck ached, as did her arm where he’d wrenched it. Sam pushed the unlock button, swung the door open, and slammed it shut.

She concentrated on the road ahead while she tried to think through the worst of her fear. Tim had shown her how to defend herself. If she could get Will to put down the gun once they were out of the car, she might be able to get away.

“How many times did you fuck Navy boy?” Will asked, a sneer in his voice.

“Probably fewer times than you did Carla Vickers in the last six years,” she said, her tone calm and quiet.

Her reply first brought a scowl to his face, then a smile. “Are you jealous, baby?”

“No, not at all, Will. Why don’t you bail her out and the two of you can live happily ever after together, with my blessing.”

“She isn’t you, Sam. Just a cheap imitation. I prefer the real deal.”

Why couldn’t he just stop? What had triggered this obsession? What mechanism in his psychotic brain had caused him to fixate on her?

“I felt sorry for Carla, sitting in that interrogation room alone. You could have at least gotten her a lawyer.”

His brows rose and a curious expression settled on his face. “Why are you worried about her?”

She stopped at another light and signaled a left turn, taking her time, driving extra-carefully. She was already late for the meeting at the Bellagio. Would Tim become concerned and ask someone to check on her? He knew she’d planned to be there. “Why aren’t
you
worried about her? You’ve slept with her for six years, gone out with her, bought her gifts, and spent time with her. Why aren’t you the least bit concerned about what’s happened to her?”