Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2) (3 page)

Three bodies lay twisted on the ground.
Oh, no.

She spun around, hoisted the toddler into her other arm as she stepped over the corpses to check out the back of the kitchen near two massive walk-in freezers.

Where the hell were the cops?

The sensation of sticky blood on her stockinged feet made her want to throw up. Her arms ached from the weight of the children, but she gritted her teeth and kept moving. She spotted a door with a fire exit sign. That was it!

The metallic click of a weapon had her freezing and turning around slowly. The man who’d knocked her over earlier was pointing a matte-black assault rifle at her face. She clutched the baby tighter, put the little boy on the floor, and tried to push him behind her leg.

The gunman was tall, over six feet four; Arabic features, small, hard ebony eyes in a round face that couldn’t have been over thirty. His olive skin was free of sweat. No visible sign of remorse.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

His nostrils flared.

She asked him again in Arabic.

His eyes widened and then swept over her uncovered hair. She saw him draw in a deep breath and knew he’d fire on the exhale, so she threw herself to the floor behind the kitchen counter. She tried to shelter the baby who started to cry at the sudden jarring movement and blast of noise as bullets ripped into the wall behind where she’d been standing just seconds ago. The direction of the bullets followed as he started walking toward them and she scrambled and dragged the boy and the baby along the floor by their padded jackets as she tried to escape. Her nylons made her slip on the bloody floor. She sprawled and scrambled, clawing for purchase. The gunman came around the corner of the kitchen bench and she closed her eyes and braced herself for a bullet. Instead she heard a grunt and more deafening gunfire pelting the metal in the kitchen. Then silence punctuated by heavy breathing. She opened her eyes but no one was there.

She held still, unsure what had happened.

“He’s dead. Come on out,” said an oddly familiar voice.

She climbed to her feet and there stood the guy who’d helped her earlier in the mall. A knife in his hand dripped crimson droplets of blood onto the tile floor. The terrorist lay twitching at his feet. Her stomach turned, relief competing with horror. Her rescuer grabbed the bad guy’s rifle, searching through the man’s pockets for more weapons and ammunition which he shoved in his jacket pockets.

“Thank you.
Again
.” Her voice was rough as crushed gravel. If it hadn’t been for him she and the children would be dead.

He nodded. “FBI Special Agent Jed Brennan at your service, ma’am.”

He wasn’t just handsome; he’d just taken on superhero status.

“Very happy to make your acquaintance, Special Agent Brennan. You saved our lives.” The baby started crying, and she joggled her gently in her arms and kissed her sweet forehead. She walked towards the FBI agent. Now she could go get Michael, and they could get out of here. She handed him the baby. He handed her straight back.

“You don’t understand,” she told him. “I need to go get my son. I left him hiding in the cupboard beneath the cash registers in the toy store.”

He frowned in confusion. “So who’re these guys?” He pointed to the toddler and baby.

“I found them outside. Their mother was shot.” Her voice caught. She tried to hand him the baby again, but he took a step away. OK, less superhero, more federal law enforcement officer—another brand of male she’d dealt with in the past. She dared not raise her voice in case she attracted the attention of more bad guys, but she was desperate.
“Please
. I need to get my son out of there. Other people too.”

“How many others?”

“At least fifteen, maybe twenty in that store alone, many children.”

The sound of footsteps rushing toward them had the FBI guy pushing her and the children behind him and them both crouching behind the kitchen counters. The middle-aged man who’d caught her eye in the toy store came tearing into the kitchen with a whole swathe of people running behind him. They crashed to a halt when they saw Special Agent Brennan holding a gun.

“He’s OK. He’s with the FBI,” she assured them.

The faces of the scared shoppers relaxed slightly, but the terror at the situation remained. They were far from safe.

She scanned the crowd, then frowned. “Where’s my son?”

The gray-haired man stepped forward. “I tried to get him to come but he wouldn’t budge.”

Her heart sank.
Oh, no
. She’d made him promise not to move.

“We need to get out of here.” Agent Brennan spoke quietly but made it an order. He eased open the fire exit door and peered down the corridor. “This way. Quickly. Keep your hands in the air in case you meet cops who think you’re part of this terrorist gang. Keep your eyes peeled for shooters.”

Vivi tried to pass the baby to another woman, but the kid wouldn’t let go of her and started crying even louder.

“What are you doing?” the fed asked impatiently. Those chocolate eyes were now as black and cold as obsidian.

“I
need
to get my son. I
promised
him I wouldn’t be long.”

“If that baby keeps crying you’re putting all these people’s lives at risk.” The sharp gleam of intelligence in those eyes reminded her of Michael. “Let’s get everyone here out and then we’ll come back and get your son, OK?” He tried to put a little warmth into his voice.

The fed was manipulating her and right now she hated him for it. She didn’t buy it, but the idea one of the bad guys might find them all because the baby was crying wasn’t something she could live with. “You don’t understand, my son won’t go anywhere without me.” She soothed the baby, who quieted. “So if you’re lying to me…”

“I never lie to beautiful women.” The brief flash of smile was not a compliment. It was a
move-your-ass-now-before-I-make-you
smile.

She wasn’t intimidated. The only thing she cared about was getting Michael out safely. She opened her mouth to argue, but was swept along by the crowd. The little boy grabbed her leg again, and she scooped him up even though he was heavy as hell. Her biceps burned. She found herself tucked between all the other terrified people as they ran down the long corridor toward the parking garage.
Damn it
. She gritted her teeth. OK. She’d get these kids out and go back for her own baby. Five minutes, tops. Please God keep him safe until she got back. Her body shook from shock and exertion, but she concentrated on getting the kids out. Then she’d go back. Then she’d save her son.

A wave of fresh, cold air hit when they got to the parking garage; her bare feet immediately frozen against the unforgiving concrete. Jed Brennan dangled the weapon he’d taken from the bad guy by the strap and held his gold shield in the other hand.

Her arms felt like they were about to drop off. Shouts rose, and men in black uniforms herded them toward a cordoned off area. The cops held them at gunpoint and made them put their hands on their heads. Didn’t they understand they were victims here? The babies both started screaming when someone took them from her. They were safe now so it didn’t really matter how much noise they made, though it tugged at her heartstrings. She hoped they had a loving family to take care of them.

She whirled toward Jed Brennan, and he was watching her with those keen eyes as black as midnight.

“Let’s go get my son,” she urged him.

A police officer pushed her toward the others but she stood firm and argued. “That FBI agent said I could bring out those two children and then go back for my own son.”

“The fed isn’t in charge and no one is going into that mall who ain’t law enforcement, ma’am. You’re staying here until we can verify your identity.”

“Special Agent Brennan!” she started shouting. He was talking to someone who looked like they were in charge. His expression went carefully blank and then he turned his back on her. He wasn’t handsome any longer. He was just another guy who’d lied to get what he wanted, and then walked away on his vows.

She shouted louder. “You
promised
I could go back for my son!” Rage filled her and she tried to dodge the cop on guard duty. Next moment she was on the ground, chin grazing the wet, dirty pavement as her wrists were cuffed. “You lied to me. If anything happens to my son, I’ll… Stop. Stop!” she hissed at the cop who was manhandling her. “There’s something you need to know about Michael!” She broke off because nothing would matter if anything happened to her beautiful son. Brennan looked at her again as the cop hauled her off the ground and started pushing her away from the mall. She didn’t let go of the FBI agent’s gaze, not even when she tripped and fell. “Get him out of there, please, or so help me God…”

***

Jed couldn’t filter the guilt or the hysterical redhead out of his brain even as he tried to concentrate on the update from the commander of the SWAT team. The fact he’d lied to her to get her out of the mall shouldn’t bother him, but she’d left her son behind and the kid was in extreme danger. That made his insides ache.

Push it aside. Don’t let empathy for the victims cloud your judgment
—his boss’s words were good advice. Hell, he
was
trying.

The terrorists had taken out the Security Center first and all cameras were down so they had no eyes inside the mall except for a couple of armed security guards who were pinned down in the northwest corner, and trapped shoppers who were tweeting the cops for help. Police had advised them to stay off social media in case the bad guys were also monitoring it. Not a good idea to state your exact location to the world when someone with a loaded gun wanted to kill you. There were reports of multiple casualties and at least seven gunmen, probably more. Two on each floor and one hosing down the transit center with an assault rifle; waiting for people to try and escape that way, or for the cops to move in. Many people had gotten out. Many more were still trapped inside—like the redhead’s son. His name was Michael, apparently, because she wasn’t done yelling at Jed yet.

The fact he’d killed one of these assholes was starting to make him feel better about what was rapidly morphing into one of the worst days of his life—and he’d had some humdingers. The redhead screamed at him again and a cop tackled her. He opened his mouth to get the guy to ease up when he caught her gaze.

Hatred and desperation poured off her. He’d lied to get her out of there, but now her kid was stuck smack bang in the middle of a gun battle that was about to get a hell of a lot worse.
Shit
.

He could deal with the hatred; it was the desperation in her dark blue gaze that twisted his gut. And the certainty that if the other police officer wasn’t forcibly restraining her, she’d have run back into that death zone, armed with nothing more than her sharp tongue and a pair of brass balls, and tried to rescue her kid herself.

“Because that’s what real parents did
.” The voice inside his head was his father’s.

“Get him out of there,
please
! Brennan, please!” she shouted louder.

He swallowed the knot in his throat. Nodded.

The SWAT guy eyed him like he was an idiot.

“I need to get back in there.”

“We don’t need any dead heroes, son.”

“You didn’t see the bodies of all the civilians these guys have already killed. They don’t want hostages. They want blood.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I
am
going back in there.”

“Not on your own you’re not.” The commander eyed him the same way his boss did when he thought he was about to do something stupid. The guy said something into his mike.

Jed stood taller and braced his legs apart. “I’m SWAT trained. Seven years in the bureau and Army before that—sniper school. Give me some men and we can start evening the odds, protecting civilians.”

The captain’s eyes flicked to the woman being cuffed. “What’s going on with her?”

“She left her son hiding in a cupboard in the toy store while she searched for a way out. I promised her we’d go back for him together. She just realized I lied.”

The guy let out a heavy sigh. “You did what you had to do to get her out of there.”

“And now I’m going back to get her son like I told her I would.” Jed held the man’s steady gaze. “Give me a couple guys otherwise I’m going in alone.”

The man’s expression turned amused. “I’ll give you two guys, but only because that was already my plan. You’re the backup. Let’s try and get that kid out alive.”

Jed nodded. He knew he shouldn’t make promises he might not be able to keep, but he couldn’t witness the fierce maternal passion on the woman’s face without at least trying. “Thanks.”

The captain’s gaze went back to the furious redhead who was glaring at them both. “Don’t fancy your chances with that one, son.”

Jed huffed out a laugh. “No kidding. I’ve got more chance of helping the Packers win the Super Bowl.”

Two heavily-armed officers approached him. One handed him tactical body armor, comms, a fully loaded assault weapon and Glock. He geared up, put spare ammo in his jacket pockets, checked both weapons and nodded. “Let’s do it.”

The other guys, Wright and Marcos, led the way back into the mall. Jed felt a hell of a lot more comfortable going back in with these guys than he had leaving with all those unarmed civilians. Didn’t mean it wasn’t about to get a lot more dangerous though.

He directed them to the restaurant kitchen fire exit. Paused long enough to photograph the face of the guy he’d taken down earlier. Emailed it to his boss. A team from the Critical Incident Response Unit would be on the way ASAP.

Wright cleared the kitchen area and radioed in to the commander who could see and hear everything via an onboard camera.

They moved slowly toward the front of the restaurant. Jed counted bodies along the way. Three so far, not counting the terrorist scumbag he’d helped meet his maker. They got to the open front of the restaurant and squatted behind a fake rock facade.
Shit
. The carnage was gut churning. Men and women lay strewn across the glittering mall, broken glass sprinkled like diamonds across ruby-red blood.