Ransom (12 page)

Once they were outside, Santini said, “You tell your people to back off.” He gestured to the dozen officers now pointing their weapons at him. “Unless you want me to blow us all to kingdom come? You do realize the explosion will cause catastrophic damage to the falls and the city.”

Blake motioned for everyone to lower their weapons. “Satisfied?” He stepped toward him. “Now hand it over.”

“Send Liz over. She and I will walk away and then I'll hand her the detonator.”

“No way,” Blake said. “You give it to me.”

“No. I want to give it to
Lizzie
.” Santini gestured to Liz.

“Not happening,” Blake repeated and took another step forward. “Come on, Santini, work with me here.”

“Don't come any closer.” Santini's thumb grazed over the detonator's red button.

Blake clenched his jaw. He seriously wanted to do the man bodily harm.

Liz touched Blake's arm, diverting his concentration. “I'll do it,” she said, her voice whisper soft.

He captured her hand. A fierce protectiveness swept through him. “No. I won't allow it.”

“Blake, it's a small price to pay for everyone else's safety.”

An odd burn of emotion gripped his chest and clogged his throat. He forced out the words, “I don't trust him.”

Her blue-green gaze softened and she squeezed his arm. “But I trust you.” Her voice dropped even lower, so that only he could hear. “You'll find me.”

Her words speared clean through him to the core of his being. Not so many days ago he'd told her she had no choice but to trust him. But that hadn't been true.

He'd wanted her to trust him because he needed her to, but she did have a choice. And now she freely gave her trust to him.

She believed in him. He'd never felt so humbled.

Everything inside of him raged against letting her sacrifice herself. But the ICE agent in him knew he had to let her go. They'd put a tracking device on the necklace. They would follow and wait until she was safe before swooping in and arresting Santini.

“Lizzie, no,” Jillian pleaded. “He's evil.”

Without breaking her hold on Blake's arm, Liz turned to her sister. “I love you, Jillian. But I have to do this.”

Jillian wept. Blake sympathized with her. He wanted to weep, to howl, to ram his fist into Santini's smug face. The muscles in Blake's neck and shoulders stiffened to an unbearable pain that matched the searing burn in his heart.

When Liz refocused her attention on Blake, he saw the love in her eyes directed at him. His mouth turned to cotton. Seeing that tender look scared him nearly as much as letting her go with a madman.

Liz squared her shoulders and released his arm. As she walked toward Santini, it took every ounce of self-control Blake had not to grab her and haul her back to his side.

Santini's grin turned Blake's stomach.

When Liz reached Santini, he snatched her hand and yanked her to him. Blake lunged forward. Nathanial held him back as Santini wrapped one thick arm around her throat while still holding the explosive trigger in his hand.

“Everyone move back,” Santini yelled. “Let us pass, and then I'll release your friend.”

Fury erupted in Blake's chest and mushroomed into a dark cloud over his head. His hands curled into fists at his sides. As he watched Santini drag Liz away, Blake threw up a prayer and plea for God to keep her safe.

* * *

The arm snaked around Liz's shoulders pressed hard on her throat, cutting off her air supply. She clawed at his arm to no avail. He smelled of menthol, a scent she associated with death. The hospice care nurse had used a menthol cream on her mother to help soothe the pain of the cancer that had ravished her body. Liz's stomach heaved, and she gagged, which only made breathing more difficult.

To keep her panic at bay, she kept her eyes trained on Blake, who followed them at a distance as Santini dragged her away. She memorized each line in his handsome face, each angle and plane of his cheeks and jaw.

Blake's voice sounded in her head. “It's going to be okay. I won't lose you.”

Her heart ached with fear and longing. She'd wanted so badly to tell Blake that somewhere along the way she'd fallen in love with him. Even though she knew doing so wasn't smart.

There was no future for them.

She belonged on Hilton Head Island, belonged at the store that her father had started and left to her and Jillian. And now that Jillian's husband was in jail, she would need Liz to help her pick up the pieces of her broken heart.

Whereas Blake would move on to his next mission, as he should. He protected both the United States and Canada in ways she'd never imagined from threats large and small. He was a hero.

And she knew deep inside if she let herself, she could easily lose herself in him and become just like her father with no identity outside of the person she loved.

One half of a whole that couldn't survive alone.

That was something she couldn't allow, despite how proud and in awe she was of Blake. She knew how hard it had been for him to let her go. He'd wanted to retain control of the situation, but life didn't always allow that. Only God was in control.

With both Blake and God on her side, she would survive this ordeal. But that knowledge didn't keep the fear from clawing through her.

Santini hauled her toward a dark SUV waiting at the curb just outside the festival boundary. His thugs hustled in front of him. Taking shallow breaths, Liz kept her gaze locked on Blake, who remained far enough away to not spook Santini into following through with his threat.

Santini popped open the driver's-side door and commanded, “Get in!”

Terror lanced through her. She struggled against his surprisingly strong arm. “You said you'd give me the detonator and release me.”

“Get in,” Santini repeated. “Or I blow your sister and everyone else into bits.”

Where would he take her? What would he do with her? She calmed herself with the knowledge that Blake would be able to hear her through the wire in her coat pocket and see through the camera attached to her button.

But what about the explosives attached to her sister? Liz searched for Jillian, but she couldn't see her among the crowd gathering to watch the spectacle of Santini forcing Liz into his SUV.

From the crazy gleam in Santini's eyes, she knew with a deep gut certainty he wasn't bluffing. She scrambled into the driver's seat of the vehicle.

“Keep going,” he said, shoving at her as he crawled inside behind her.

Clambering over the middle console, she landed in the passenger seat in a heap. Behind her, one of the thugs snickered at her ungainly entrance. As she righted herself and shot the big lug a vehement glare, Santini locked the doors and then started the engine. Still holding on to the detonator with one hand, he pressed on the gas and the SUV shot forward. He cranked the wheel, barely avoiding pedestrians who'd stopped to gawk.

“Where are you taking me?” Liz grappled with the seat belt and buckled herself in.

“Shut up!” He sped through stoplights, swerving around cars, drifting into the oncoming traffic lane. Horns blared. Liz braced herself, sure that any second they'd be struck. But they managed to leave the city limits unscathed.

“Liz, I'm here,” Blake's voice entered her head. “We're following you. We have an explosives specialist working on the bomb strapped to Jillian.”

She nearly wept with relief. But she knew she couldn't rejoice yet. The specialist could miscalculate, or Santini could have rigged the explosives with a secondary trigger that could explode if tampered with.

“Please, give me the detonator,” she implored.

Without answering, he rolled the window down and chucked the detonator out.

Liz's mouth dropped open. “You threw the detonator out the window,” she said for Blake's benefit. That was unexpected. But she wouldn't complain.

He cackled. “Are you sure that was the detonator?”

Her fingers curled into fists. He was toying with her, enjoying her suffering. “You have what you want. You said you'd let me go.”

“No way, sweetheart, you're my insurance policy.” He exited the main highway onto a side street without any streetlights. He brought the vehicle to an abrupt halt on the shoulder.

Not sure what to think, anxiety snaked through Liz. She grabbed the handle to open the door, but it was locked. She tried the lock mechanism. It didn't work. He must have it on parental control. “Why have you stopped?”

He snorted “Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I don't know the way the law operates? I haven't been able to evade capture this long without anticipating my opponents' moves.”

He reached across her to open the glove box. He grabbed a pistol and what looked to Liz like a walkie-talkie. He slammed the glove compartment closed. Then he fiddled with controls on the walkie-talkie.

Red lights glowed from the device, filling in the shadows and distorting Santini's face. Liz shrank back as he lifted the thing and waved it over her. It let out long, shrill beeps.

Santini's lips thinned. “I knew you were bugged.”

Her stomach sank. So the device wasn't a walkie-talkie but an electronic detector. “It's okay, Liz. Keep calm,” Blake said into her ear. “We're not that far behind you.”

“Take off your coat,” Santini demanded, drawing her attention.

She shrugged out of the jacket. He grabbed it, rolled down the window and threw it out. Then he waved the handheld detector over her again. It remained silent until he brought it near her ear. The shrill alarm reverberated through Liz's head. Santini grabbed her by the hair and yanked her close. His thick fingers plucked at her ear.

She swatted his hand away and fished the small communication link from her ear and held it out to him. “There. Are you satisfied? Now will you let me go?”

He tossed the earpiece out the window, then without comment, restarted the engine and continued driving deeper into the woods.

Liz said a silent prayer of thanksgiving that Santini hadn't thought to swipe his device over the necklace. The tracker attached to the backside of one of the stones was now her only hope of rescue.

TEN

L
iz hid her surprise when Santini turned the SUV down a snow-rutted road leading to an airport. Huge lights illuminated the runway and glistened off the snow piled high on the edges of the long runway.

A large gate blocked their path. Santini slowed to a stop and rolled down the window. He removed his wallet from the inside pocket of his coat and slipped an electronic key card out and swiped it against the box right outside the driver's-side door. The gate opened.

Obviously he'd been here before and apparently planned on executing his escape via airplane. She noticed a dark helicopter off to the side. Maybe not a plane. A shiver of apprehension tripped over her skin. She'd never been in a helicopter and certainly didn't want to experience it now.

He brought the vehicle to a halt outside of a huge blue metal building on the far side of a short, squat air traffic control tower. Tall red-tipped antennas grew out of the top of the tower. Dark-tinted windows concealed the control personnel inside. But would they be able to see her? There had to be a way to signal to them that she was in distress.

Killing the engine, Santini turned to her with the gun aimed at her heart. “No funny business, you hear me? We're going to get out nice and easy, then we're going to make our way inside the hangar. I've got a plane waiting.”

Wariness threaded through her. “I'm not going with you.”

He shoved the gun closer to her face. “Yes, you are. Now move.”

She swallowed back the tide of terror rising up to scorch her throat. She'd switched places with Jillian. Would she end up with an explosive wrapped around her? Or would Santini just shoot her? Deciding it was better to comply than argue with him, she opened the door and stepped out.

The frigid air seeped through her clothes to chill her all the way to her marrow. She'd never liked winter but now she positively detested it. She contemplated running for the tower, but feared he'd blast a hole in her back if she tried. She had to be patient and wait for an opportunity. She prayed God would orchestrate a moment when she could escape unharmed.

Santini rounded the front end of the SUV, snagged her arm and forced her to walk toward the large rectangular building. His two thugs climbed out and trudged along behind them like lap dogs. High square windows marched across the building and glowed from within.

She glanced over her shoulder, past the two thugs, hoping to see the cavalry, in the form of Blake and his team, coming to her rescue. The last thing she'd heard Blake say was that they weren't far behind. But would they make it in time before Santini escaped? And what about her? Would Santini really take her with him? Or would he kill her inside the airplane hangar?

Dread churned in her tummy. With each step, uncertainty of what was to come ratcheted her unease to a near blinding terror. One thug hustled to open the large metal door. The grating sound amplified her fear. She cringed.

Santini pulled her inside the large hangar. Several more men waited inside with a uniformed pilot holding a clipboard in his hand. Large skylights let in the moon's glow to bathe a sleek dual-engine private jet. The plane's door was open with stairs spilling out.

A stranglehold of alarm urged Liz to do what she could to keep from boarding that plane. Because once she did, she had a feeling her usefulness would evaporate and Santini would dispose of her. She needed to put up a struggle, to buy Blake time to arrive.

A shadow passed overhead, distracting Santini. He glanced up, affording her the moment she'd been praying for. She dug in her heels and with a quick twist broke free of Santini's grip.

“Hey!” he shouted. “Where do you think you're going?”

She ran for the big hangar door, hoping to escape, hoping not everyone on the ground crew was a thug of Santini's. She prayed that one of them would run interference.

“Get her!” Santini bellowed, dispelling her hope that the men weren't all criminals.

She let loose a loud scream. Maybe she could at least draw attention from the tower. Surely, they'd send airport security if they heard a scream and saw a woman running for her life.

The sound of pounding feet on the hangar's concrete floor spurred her to sprint faster. She passed through the open hangar door. A large hand clamped on her arm and yanked sideways. Panicked, she lashed out, her fists glancing off wide shoulders.

“Liz!” Blake's voice registered in her frantic mind.

She stilled. Sure she was imagining him, she blinked several times. “Blake?”

He wrapped one arm about her waist and spun her around so that she was behind him. In his other arm he carried a large rifle with a scope aimed at the men who'd chased after her. Sami, Drew and Nathanial joined them. The men halted. A little red dot appeared on each man's chest. The odds that the men and woman trained in firearms wouldn't hit their target was low. Enough so that Santini's men dropped their weapons and lifted their hands. Smart on their part.

From inside the hangar the sound of the skylights shattering filled the air. Blake stalked forward. Liz grabbed a handful of his jacket and moved in tandem with him. They entered the hangar. A dozen officers dressed in black tactical gear bearing large weapons had rappelled through the opening. They landed on the ground surrounding Santini and his men.

“Put down your weapons,” Blake demanded.

Santini dropped his gun and sneered at Blake. “You. I should have killed you when I killed that other agent. I saw you on the pier. I knew you'd be trouble. Ever since then you've been a thorn in my side.”

Liz could see the tension in Blake's shoulders, could feel his rage. She held her breath. Why would Santini bait Blake?

“A mistake you'll have to live with.” Blake reached behind him to gently remove her hand from his coat, forcing her to let him go. Then in two long strides he was standing nose to nose with Santini. “You're done.”

A sly smile spread Santini's lips. “We'll see.”

Blake placed a hand on Santini's shoulder and forced him to his knees. “Hands behind your back.”

Santini complied, but the almost bored expression on his face made Liz's blood boil. The man was so smug. So sure that he was above the law. But he wasn't.

Blake had succeeded in bringing Santini to justice.

Pride and awe filled her. Blake was a man of his word. A man worthy of her trust and her love.

She caught her breath. She did love him, but she had no idea what to do about it. If she confessed to him how she felt, what good would that do? She needed to hold on tight to her emotions. Keep them within her heart because there wasn't room in his life for her and she couldn't give up her identity for love.

Blake reached into Santini's coat pockets until he found the necklace. “You won't need this where you're going.”

Blake gestured for the officers to take Santini into custody. Then he returned to her. After slipping the uncut-diamond strand into his pocket, he smoothed back a lock of her hair. The rough pads of his fingers were gentle against her skin. The words
I love you
hovered on her tongue.

But she couldn't bring herself to utter them. She wasn't that brave.

“I'll take you to your sister,” Blake said.

Blinking back the burn of tears, she nodded. “Where is she?”

“At the hospital.”

Her stomach dropped. “She's hurt?”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “No. Minor scrapes and bruises. But she sure put up one whopper of a fit.”

Liz smiled, glad to know her sister's spirit hadn't been broken. “She's a bit of a drama queen.”

Blake chuckled. “So Drew tells me. He and Sami are with her.”

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he grasped her hand and tucked it within the crook of his arm. “Come on.”

She glanced back at Santini being led to a waiting vehicle. “Don't you want to take him in?”

He kept his gaze on her. “Nathanial and the others can handle the transport.”

Sighing, she leaned into him. Her chest crowded with love for this very special agent. “I'm glad this ordeal is over.”

He helped her into a black SUV. They were the first of the vehicles to leave the airport. The rest stayed behind to process the scene and handle those arrested. He cranked the heater, and Liz tilted her head back onto the headrest. The beams of the SUV's front lights cut through the darkness. A truck sat parked on the side of the road.

“That's strange,” Blake remarked as they passed the truck. “There was no truck there on our way in.”

She looked through the back window in time to see two dark figures jump into the truck, then the vehicle lights came on. Alarmed, she sat up. “Uh, Blake?”

The truck whipped a U-turn and raced toward them.

“I see them.” Blake pressed the gas pedal. They shot forward, the rear tires fishtailing in the snow. The pickup truck sped closer. The truck crossed into the oncoming traffic lane and tried to pull even with their SUV. The back passenger window behind Blake exploded in a shower of glass.

“Get down!” Blake shouted. He swerved to block the truck, throwing Liz sideways. She grasped the door handle and scrunched down as best she could given the seat belt had locked in place and was cutting into her.

The truck hit the SUV's back bumper. The vehicle's rear tires slid sideways, but Blake managed to keep from losing control. Liz closed her eyes and sent up a fervent plea to God for protection.

She'd thought the nightmare was over, but no. “It's Ken, isn't it?” It had to be Ken and his cohort. Who else could it be? But how had they have found them?

“Hang on.” Sharp determination laced his words.

He hit the brakes hard and swerved, forcing the truck to shoot past them to keep from a full collision. Then Blake stepped on the gas and yanked the steering wheel to the right, taking them off the main road and into the woods. They careened around a tree. Bumped over snow-covered shrubs and debris.

Behind them the truck followed, but it had lost ground.

Up ahead a narrow gully flashed in the headlights. Liz braced herself for the crash. At the last moment, Blake took a hard left, barely missing the gully. Liz slammed her head against the side window, and pain exploded in her eye. The SUV hit the road again and ate up the gravel, snow-packed road at its top speed.

Liz swiveled to see the truck slam on its brakes, barely stopping in time to avoid crashing into the ditch. She let out a relieved breath and turned to face forward. She put a hand to her eyebrow and felt dampness. She dug a tissue out of her pocket and held it to the stinging cut to mop up the blood.

Blake called Nathanial and told him about the truck. After he hung up, he glanced her way. “You okay?”

She nodded. “Just rattled.”

He frowned. “You're hurt.”

The concern in his tone brought tears to her eyes and heightened the pain. “I hit my head.”

“You're bleeding.”

She blinked up at him. “Yes, Captain Obvious.”

He snorted out a chuckle. “Sorry.”

Glad to know he had some semblance of a sense of humor hidden inside him, she tried to relax, but her tension didn't ease until Blake pulled to the curb by Niagara's general hospital twenty minutes later. He jumped out of the SUV and came around to her door. He helped her out, then tucked her at his side. They walked into the emergency waiting area.

“I need help here,” he said, taking out his badge and showing it to the nurses and orderlies. “Now.”

A nurse hurried to their side, her gaze flitting over the bloodied tissue Liz was pressing against her eyebrow. “Follow me.” The nurse guided them toward a curtained room. “A doctor will be with you shortly.”

“I can't believe this,” Blake muttered. “I promised I'd keep you safe.”

His distress tugged at her, making her heart hurt for him. He took on too much blame for things that he had no control over. “It's okay. You got me here safely. You rescued my sister. You're my hero.”

He paled and stared at her as if she'd said something horrible. “I need to find Drew. I'll have a patrol officer guard the ER.” He brusquely pushed aside the curtain and had to sidestep around the doctor on his way out.

Liz stared after him, hurt and confused. What had she said to send him running away?

* * *

You're my hero.

Blake ran a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall outside of the hospital's emergency room entrance.

No. He wasn't anyone's hero.

From the beginning he'd been using Liz and her sister's kidnapping to bring down Santini.

The fact he was fast falling in love with Liz was a colossal mistake. She'd been hurt on his watch, and that was an even bigger blunder. One he wouldn't ever forgive himself for. He'd lost Liam because he'd been late providing backup and now he'd let harm befall Liz.

His hands fisted. He'd been so focused on Santini, he'd overlooked the other man who wanted the necklace. Ken. He'd had the IBETs technician run a background check on the man. Kenneth Onega—his real name—was a US citizen hailing from Miami, Florida.

The local law enforcement there had a thick file on him. According to the Miami-Dade County police chief, Ken was a small-time fish looking to swim with the sharks. They'd had intel that he had been trying to muscle in on Santini's operation but with no success.

Blake ground his jaw together, making his head ache. Ken had made a mistake by coming after Liz. Though why he was targeting her didn't make sense...unless he thought she had the necklace. She didn't. Blake did. It was still nestled in his pocket.

Pushing away from the wall, Blake's gaze roamed over the parking lot and faltered on a familiar pickup truck.

A cold knot formed in his chest.

Ken was here at the hospital. And Blake had left Liz alone.

* * *

“In a few days, you'll be good as new,” the emergency room doctor said with confidence ringing in his tone.