Hollywood Outlaw: A Hollywood Alphabet SeriesThriller (A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Book 15) (26 page)

Preparations for the raid on Nicolai Asimov’s compound in the Santa Ynez valley, about an hour north of Santa Barbara, took most of the afternoon. The FBI was joined by Homeland Security and the federal Marshals Service, with a total of over twenty agents in the convoy of cars that headed north with us.

Buck and I followed behind the feds, with Leo and Darby behind us in a separate car. Captain Dembowski had also insisted on coming, along with Lieutenant Edna, even though this was now a federal show and we would all be taking secondary roles in the raid.

As Buck drove us, I told him my concerns about our investigation. “Once Asimov is in custody, everything goes to federal court, where the lawyers will be in control. That’s all going to diminish our chances of ever finding out who’s the operative behind the Prince case and who probably murdered him and Abrams.”

He glanced at me. “Maybe there’s some records at the compound that will give us something to go on. It makes me wonder how many of these financial operatives Asimov has embedded.”

“Agent Cather told me after the meeting that this is the break the feds have been after for years. He said there could be hundreds of operatives scattered around the world. According to him, Asimov’s reach is wide and deep. There could even be others like him that are out there at work.”

Buck smiled. “It’s kind of like a den of rattlers. Once you go poking ‘round with the stick, there’s no telling what will come slithering out.”

I glanced over at him. He was wearing a sports coat with a western cut, Levi’s, and boots. I tried not to dwell on the fact that he was one of the most handsome men I’d ever known.

“Sometimes I think you really miss Texas,” I said. “You ever given any thought to going back there, maybe working for the sheriff’s department somewhere?”

He cut his eyes to me. “It’s crossed my mind a time or two. How’s that old saying go, you can’t step into the same stream twice, ‘cause the water’s always flowing and you’re always changing.” He looked back at the highway. “I think that boat has sailed for me.”

What he’d said made me think about how we all make choices in life that forever change the future; choices that can never be taken back. The choices that I’d made seemed to all rush back at me at once as I glanced at the ocean after we passed the city of Santa Barbara. If I could change the past, I knew that I would take some of those choices back. I again felt that hollow, empty feeling I’d had last night after leaving the hospital.

“What about you?”

His question surprised me. “I’m sorry?”

“You ever thought about finding another stream, maybe sticking a toe in and changing course?”

Maybe he was a mind reader. “More than a few times.” My eyes stayed on him as he turned off the freeway toward the Santa Ynez Valley. I decided it was time to own up to what was going on. It was time to tell him about Noah.

I spent the next several minutes going over what I’d learned about Noah and how I believed he was working for Russell and Ryland. “Russell’s son thinks Noah could even be a hit man for them, working in the same capacity as Ryan Cooper did years ago.”

“You believe that?”

My lungs deflated. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.” I took a moment, then said, “But, I do think that Noah is dangerous and unpredictable.”

“Does he know…” He glanced at me. “…that you’re onto him?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think that would be healthy for me.”

“You need to take this up the chain…”

“Already done. Edna said not to waste my time. He thinks Dunbar might even try to discipline me for engaging in an unauthorized investigation.”

Buck was quiet as he considered what I’d told him. When he looked back at me, I saw that his expression had changed. There was concern, but also something else. “What does this mean…for us?” he asked.

My gaze flickered over to him, before moving off and losing focus. “I don’t think…” I took a moment, brushing the hair out of my eyes. “I don’t know, Buck. All I know is that my life is…” I drew in a watery breath. “I’ve made a lot of bad choices.”

“You ask me, you’ve only made one bad choice.” I looked at him as he continued. “To quit on us.”

“I didn’t quit. If you’ll recall, your ex…”

“Like I’ve said before, that’s over. She’s out of state and no longer an issue.” We were out of the mountains now, heading into the Santa Ynez valley. Rolling hills and small ranches dotted the area, some with vineyards. His gaze came back over to me. “The truth is, Kate, I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

I felt my eyes tearing up as I glanced at him. This beautiful man who knew about all my faults, my past, and my mistakes still loved me. That realization melted the wall I’d built up between us. The thought crossed my mind that maybe you
can
step back into the same stream.

Buck went on. “You ever thought that maybe it all works together in a way that’s meant to be?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Maybe it was meant to be this way; that you and I would find each other again after some bumps in the road.” He reached over and took my hand. “All I know for sure is that you never give up on life. Even when the road turns and seems lost, you keep moving forward, one day at a time. And I won’t ever give up on us, Kate.”

I took a breath, doing my best to stay in control. “I won’t deny that I still have feelings…very deep feelings for you.” I looked into his beautiful eyes. “Let’s give it some time.”

He squeezed my hand. “Fair enough. I’ve got as much time as you need.”

The compound where Nicolai Asimov controlled his financial operations was located in a canyon a few miles from the town of Solvang. The small community was modeled after a Danish village, with provincial buildings and windmills, similar to what you might find in the Norwegian countryside.

We stopped at a bakery with a nearby park, where the taskforce gathered. Alex Fiore, a deputy marshal with a burly build and a thick shock of gray hair, explained how he wanted to proceed. “Asimov’s compound is located about five miles up Highway 246, about a mile off the main road. I want to try and keep some element of surprise on our side.”

An assistant handed out Google Earth maps of the compound as Fiore went on. “The plan will be to take four cars for the initial warrant service, while the rest of you hang back. I’ll give those of you that stay behind the
go
signal when we’re cleared to proceed.”

Everyone in the task force offered to be a part of the initial raid, but Fiore stuck by his plan to take just a small group, consisting only of federal agents for entry into the compound. After lots of negotiations, four deputy marshals, FBI agents Cather and Sanders, and four Homeland Security agents were chosen.

Buck and I stopped along the highway with the rest of the locals and watched as the feds took over, making their way up a dirt road into the compound.

“Nothing like being spectators in our own game,” Buck said, rolling down the window. The late afternoon was cool, with a breeze coming from the ocean a few miles away.

I gathered my hair, pulling it behind one ear. “I just hope they have enough people. Asimov’s bound to have some form of alarm or security system.”

Ten minutes later, my worst fears were realized when we got a frantic radio call from Deputy Marshal Fiore. “Code nine…code nine…we’re meeting heavy resistance! All personnel move in now!”

“Automatic weapons fire,” Buck said, as we made our way down the dirt road to Asimov’s compound. Leo and Darby were behind us, followed by Edna and Dembowski. We were trailing the other federal agents that had been held back.

I repeated to Buck what I’d heard in the muffled radio traffic back and forth between Fiore and the other agents. “It sounds like Asimov’s people have barricaded themselves inside the compound. Our side is taking cover and returning fire.”

“Better call the cavalry. We’re gonna need a lot more firepower.”

I made the call for assistance before we stopped about a hundred yards from the estate, which was sealed off by massive steel gates. I couldn’t see much that was beyond the gates, except for the roof of a Spanish style compound and several outbuildings.

We met up with the agents that had made the initial raid on the compound, where I told Fiore, “I made the officer needs assistance call, but it will probably take some time to get any help out here.”

He acknowledged what I’d said, before telling me, “We’re going to have to wait it out, until we’ve got some additional personnel and weapons.”

As it turned out, our wait wasn’t that long. We heard a thunderous roar coming from somewhere behind the main building of the compound.

“It sounds like an airship,” I said. “Somebody’s leaving…”

My words were cut off by the sound of rotor blades and an engine accelerating as a helicopter rose up, banked, and took off behind the compound.

“It must be Asimov,” Buck said, coming over to us. “He’s probably left his people behind to take the fire.”

Less than a minute later, as the helicopter was disappearing on the horizon, the electronic locks on the massive double doors leading to the interior of the compound released and the doors swung open. The weapons fire we’d heard earlier had stopped. There was now an eerie silence, as though the compound was empty.

“Maybe Asimov’s people left in the chopper with him,” Fiore said.

Agent Cather spoke up. “Let’s take a cautious look through the gates, see if anybody’s around.”

After some discussion about the merits of checking the compound or waiting for more personnel, Agents Cather and Sanders led the way over to the gates, with the other federal agents following. Buck and I trailed behind with our guns out, along with Leo and Darby. The captain and Lieutenant Edna had stayed back, Dembowski telling us that he needed to call the acting chief to apprise him of the situation.

We stopped at the steel-plated gates, which I thought might have been designed for the purpose they had just served. The inner courtyard looked empty, and the residence beyond was quiet.

After waiting a couple of minutes, Fiore said, “Let’s spread out and check inside the gates. Stay alert and watch yourselves. Make sure you have cover. It could be that Asimov’s people are still inside.”

We cautiously moved forward, using a large cement fountain in the center of the courtyard for cover. We held our ground there, continuing to surveil the house, which was quiet. One of the deputy marshals got a radio call that officers from the local sheriff’s office were in route, but were still about a half hour way.

“Let’s move closer,” Fiore said after we’d waited several minutes longer and heard nothing from the residence. “I’ve got a feeling everyone’s gone.”

We did as he instructed, making our way up to the porch that extended along the front of the house. Buck went over with a couple of marshals to try the front door, while I hung back with Leo and Darby, providing cover.

“It’s unlocked,” I heard someone say.

I used my hand to shield the sun and watched as the door swung open. Buck and the other officers all moved into the interior of the house. Seconds later a woman appeared from somewhere inside the house and stood in front of them. I was still trying to understand why she was there when I heard her call out, using the same phrase that terrorists had uttered in suicide attacks around the world.

“Allahu akbar!”

As the woman’s suicide vest detonated, I watched in horror as her body disintegrated along with the law enforcement officers that were inside the house. Even as I moved forward, I knew that it was too late.

Everyone was dead, including the man who loved me.

It was late in the day, four days later, as “Taps" played, and I walked away from Buck McCade’s funeral with Bernie. It had been one of the most heartbreaking days of my life, watching as his brother eulogized him. I’d cried until there were no tears left, as he told the mourners in the memorial chapel on Catalina Island about their boyhood lives and the simple pleasures they’d shared growing up in Texas.

The day had been filled with flowers and prayers, speeches and remembrances, bagpipes and a twenty-one-gun salute, and enough tears to last everyone a lifetime. Even Acting Chief Dunbar had spoken, telling the mourners what a fine officer Buck had been. The service ended as the sun was beginning to set over the small cemetery set on a hillside.

Four lives had been lost during the raid on Nicolai Asimov’s compound. Along with Buck, FBI agents Cather and Sanders, and Deputy Marshal Fiore, had been killed. There had been no sightings of Asimov subsequent to the raid, and a search of the compound had turned up nothing worthwhile. The only hope we had of finding him was to eventually identify the operative he’d used in the Prince case. That hope was slim, given that his associate might be so deep undercover that he or she had been left in place to not draw any attention.

As the mourners headed for their cars, I strolled along the cemetery grounds with Bernie. My canine partner had still not been cleared for duty, but I’d brought him with me to the island, knowing that Buck loved all animals, including my dog. We were on the hillside that overlooked the ocean when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

“Want some company, Buttercup?”

I turned, seeing the familiar face of Joe Dawson. “I didn’t realize you were here.”

“Even a big lug like me can get lost in a crowd of a couple hundred people.” He motioned to a nearby bench. After exchanging hugs, we walked over and took seats.

After a little small talk, we sat in silence for a long time, each of us needing the quiet and solitude after the heart-wrenching day that was finally ending.

When the cemetery was nearly deserted, I quietly said to Joe, “He loved me.”

Joe, who had the palest blue eyes I’d ever seen, turned to me. “Say what?”

“Buck…before the raid, I told him about Noah working for Russell and Ryland…” I drew in a breath and held on his eyes. “He told me that he was still in love with me.”

Even though Joe Dawson was one of the toughest, most hard-headed men I’d ever known, I saw the heaviness in his eyes. He reached over and took my hand. “I’m sorry.”

After a long moment, I said, “I walked away from him, knowing that.”

He blinked back his tears and drew in a breath. “If I remember right, you walked away because of his ex.”

I met his eyes again. “I still walked away. I was wrong.”

“I don’t believe that.” He cleared his throat. “You made a decision that was based on what was happening at the time. Only someone way above our pay grade can decide if that was right or wrong. You need to let it go.”

“But how…” Despite thinking there were no tears left, they spilled from my eyes again. “…how do I go on after…after everything?”

Joe’s gaze moved off and he took a moment before answering. His chest rose, then fell as he said, “I can’t begin to know exactly what you’re feeling, but I lost a partner about twenty years ago. What I felt then was probably about as close as I can come.” He cut his eyes back to me. “All I do know is that loss is the way of the world. To be alive is to suffer loss, and each of us has to find a way out of that. No one can do it for us.”

“But…there’s been so much loss…”

My thoughts became a watery haze as the memories came flooding back to me. I thought about my love-dad, who was shot and killed in front of me when I was a small child. Then there was my birthmother. Judie Crawford had been battered, and later died, at the hands of the same man who had killed my love-dad. Memories of Jack Bautista then found me. I’d been in love with Jack, before Ryan Cooper had also killed him while stalking me. And finally, scenes of all the wonderful moments Buck and I had shared right here on Catalina Island came rushing back to me.

I took a breath and fell against Joe’s shoulder, weeping again. “I just don’t know if I can find my way back from this.”

Joe held on to me, brushing a hand through my hair. After I’d cried myself out again, he said, “You once told me about a guy you worked with. I think his name was Ted.”

I managed to find a breath. “Ted Grady.”

“You said something that made a lot of sense to me at the time. You said that Ted once told you that working in law enforcement was about finding love in the form of justice for the victims in this world.” He met my eyes. “That’s the way you go on, Kate. You go on by doing what you were put on this earth to do. You honor that gift.”

What he’d said about honoring my gift resonated with me. He then said something that, for the first time in days, filled me with renewal and hope. “Lindsay deserves that you do the same thing for her.”

I brushed the stream of tears off my cheeks. “What are you trying to say?”

“We heard from your sister, Kate. She’s on the inside and she’s on our side.”