Wanted (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 8) (11 page)

BOOK: Wanted (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 8)
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The guys laughed, and even though this was just a game, Clay was too competitive to stop counting and moved on to Vance. “Ha! Sixty-two,” he declared when he was finished, looking at Tuck in triumph. “What about your guys?”

In answer, Tuck stared right back and smeared the paint on the front of his body too.

Clay pumped his fist in the air. “We win!”

Schroder rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Bauer, your team wins. And your dicks are much bigger than ours too.”

“Damn right,” he said with a cocky smile.
And it turns out my boys are expert swimmers too, just like me
, he thought with a smug grin. Yeah, he was starting to feel pretty damn proud about becoming a daddy now. He was looking forward to telling the rest of the guys when it was time.

Everyone dumped their gear into a pile and gathered around the fire pit, setting up the folding lawn chairs in a circle. When everyone had a cold beer in hand from one of the coolers, Clay set about checking on the steaks. Schroder ambled over, beer can in hand, face covered in paint. “Need some help?”

“There’s no bacon, if that’s what you were hoping for,” Clay told him.

Schroder laughed softly. “Well maybe I was hoping a little.” He eyed the steaks on the grill. “Those’ll do though. Smells awesome.”

“Glad to hear it. They’re almost done. Tuck likes his medium rare, so give him this, will you?” He scooped the steak up off the grill with his tongs and added a baked potato. He wasn’t much of a cook, but every guy could figure out how to grill meat. “Evers put the butter and everything else on the table over there.” He nodded to the table he’d set next to the coolers earlier.

“I like mine medium-well, in case you were wondering,” Schroder answered over his shoulder as he went to serve the groom-to-be.

Clay and Vance manned the grill to finish everything up, and when everyone had a plate and were seated around the fire, Clay stood and held up his beer. “A toast, to the groom-to-be.”

He paused, searched for something appropriate to say. He wasn’t nearly as cynical about marriage as he’d been before meeting Zoe, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still tease the hell out of Tuck. “Good luck.”

Everyone started laughing, then a chorus of “good lucks” rang out around the fire. Tuck took it good-naturedly, grinning as he saluted him with his own beer. “Thanks, boys. But I don’t need luck because I know she’s the only woman who could ever handle me.”

A chorus of whistles and catcalls broke out. Smiling, Clay took a seat and dug into his steak and baked potato. Three bites in, his phone rang.

Pulling it from his back pocket, he stilled when he saw Alex Rycroft’s number. Had to be about Zoe’s stalker.

He put his plate aside and stood, quickly walking away from the group while he answered. “Bauer.”

“Hey. I just got some new intel on the stalker situation.”

Clay kept his back to the group, plugged his free ear to hear better. “Okay, shoot.”

“My people have been looking into this and a few of the possible suspects they’ve come up with are flagged in our system.”

Clay’s hand tightened around the phone. “Okay.”

“Based on what they’ve compiled thus far, I’d say this is definitely connected to what happened in NOLA.”

Clay set his jaw.
Fuck
. He’d been afraid of this. It tore him up that he wasn’t with her now, that he couldn’t get to her immediately. “How so?”

“We’re following up leads right now, but it looks like there’s a possible connection here to a Fuentes enforcer.”

At that the blood drained out of Clay’s face. He spun around and rushed back toward the others. He needed to get to Zoe. “Who?” he grated out.

“We’re not sure on that either. But there’s enough evidence to suggest that Fuentes has offered a reward for a hit on one of you guys. And we think someone’s targeting Zoe to get to you.”

He grabbed his keys with his free hand, fisted them so tight his knuckles ached. The idea that some asshole was targeting Zoe to get to him or one of the other guys clawed at him like razor wire. She’d been through hell once already and now she was carrying his baby…

He couldn’t imagine losing them, the way DeLuca had lost his wife and child. Clay would do anything to protect her.

“How much is the reward?”

“One million.”

Jesus. He didn’t even care how Fuentes was managing to pull those kinds of strings from behind maximum-security bars. “So someone knew about what happened in NOLA and they’ve been tracking her through her pen name to get to me or one of the other guys.”

“Looks like.” Rycroft’s voice was grim. “I’ve got a new inside source helping us out, so all this intel is credible. But what about Zoe, does she have security on her?”

Clay’s steps faltered. Ah, shit, the bridal shower. He stopped. “She’s with Celida, and I know Celida will be armed. But all the guys’ women are together at Tuck’s place right now.” That was one big fucking target for a narco-terrorist looking to make him and the guys come running.

Nausea swirled in his belly, his muscles bunching tight.

“Get them out, or at least hide them until we can safely evacuate them.”

“I’m on it. Thanks, man, but I gotta go.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah.” Clay hung up and immediately dialed Zoe, his heart beating a staccato rhythm against his chest wall as he looked back to the others. The guys were all sitting around eating and bullshitting, totally unaware of the threat hovering over the girls.

He held the phone to his ear, marched toward his teammates. Zoe should be at the shower right now, but she had mentioned running more wedding-related errands with Celida after. God dammit…

Answer, Zo. Pick up the damn phone.

Her phone went to voicemail.

He swore, left her a text and rushed back to the fire pit. When they saw him everyone stopped talking, six pairs of eyes locked on him in utter silence.

He focused on Tuck. “I need you to call Celida. Find out if she’s with Zoe.”

Tuck stood, frowning at Clay’s urgent tone and reached for his phone. “Everything okay?”

“No.” He wanted the others to hear this too. They needed to know about the threat. “Rycroft called to say he’s pretty sure a former Fuentes enforcer is the one who’s been stalking Zoe.”

Tuck’s face tightened. “He’s sure?”

“Yes.” Clay looked at the others. “Somehow Fuentes has put a hit out on us. Whoever’s been stalking Zoe is after the reward money offered. If this asshole knows where she is, he’ll go after her.”

“Holy shit,” Cruzie muttered. “What if he knows they’re all together at Tuck’s right now?” All the others tensed, watching Clay.

Yeah, it was a fucking nightmare.

The others began fishing out their phones, the urgency palpable.

Tuck was waiting for Celida to pick up, but a moment later shook his head. “Voicemail.” A second later he began snapping out a series of commands to Celida, warning her about the situation.

Clay’s gaze snapped to the others. “Everybody, alert your girl and find out where Zoe is.”

Everyone was already on their phones, but Vance was the first one to get the intel they needed. “Carm says Celida and Zoe left forty minutes ago to go get their dresses fitted.”

Shit. Clay looked at Tuck. “Know which one?”

“Hang on.” Tuck was scrolling through something on his phone.

He looked at the others, who were all watching him, phones to their ears. “Tell the girls to stay at Tuck’s place and get down to the basement.”

Since this fucker had been specifically targeting Zoe so far the other women might not be at risk, but she’d been with them earlier and Clay’s guys wouldn’t take chances with their safety. The basement would hopefully provide enough cover if someone had been able to track them there.

“Hell,” Vance muttered, and began rattling out instructions to Carmela.

Clay dialed Zoe again, the murmur of voices floated around him as he watched Tuck, urging him to hurry.

No answer from Zoe.

Cursing, he lowered the phone. “Tuck. Where?” In his peripheral he could already see Vance and Schroder dousing the fire with the ice and water from the coolers.

“It’s…Debutante Dresses,” Tuck said, and quickly read out the address. “I’m calling there now.”

“Let’s go.” To the others, Clay added, “Go to Tuck’s place and get the girls home safely. Everyone report back to me or Tuck when you get home. And watch your sixes. This asshole is gunning for us.”

Without waiting for a response he turned and ran for his truck. Dread coiled inside him, the seconds ticking past way too fast. He and Tuck had to get to Zoe and Celida before whoever was hunting them got there first.

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

Amanda tugged the brim of her police hat down farther over her forehead and exited the car she’d rented with a fake ID and matching credit card. After driving past the dress shop a minute ago and seeing Agent Morales’s car parked at the curb out front, she knew Celida and Zoe were both still in there.

Hurry
, her instinct urged her.

Her pulse picked up, her hands growing clammy inside her pockets as she moved closer to her unsuspecting targets. The sidewalks here were fairly quiet, most of the businesses having shut down a few hours earlier. On this block only the dress shop and a combination bookstore-coffee shop were still open.

She walked the half block north to the rendezvous point. Dominic was nowhere in sight. She was just reaching for her cell phone when it dinged with an incoming text. Dominic.

Ahead of you. Twenty yards.

Glancing up, she saw some vehicles parked down the street along the curb, behind an ambulance. A split second later the ambulance driver’s door popped open and Dominic stepped out wearing a paramedic’s uniform.

Amanda stopped in her tracks, a wide smile spreading across her face.
Perfect
. “Hey.”

He shut the ambulance door and walked over to her. When he got close enough he signaled for her to follow with a nod of his head. Out of the light cast by the streetlamps lining the sidewalk, he bent his head and murmured, “This is a CCTV black spot. Here.” He passed her an earpiece.

She pretended to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, tucked the earpiece in place and tested it. “Did you find your site yet?” she whispered back, keeping an eye on the sidewalk. It wasn’t unusual to see a cop talking to a paramedic, so she didn’t think they’d drawn any notice from passersby yet.

“Check,” he said with a nod to indicate his earpiece was working. “And wouldn’t you know it, there’s a handicap parking spot right out front of the shop.” His voice was clear in her earpiece as well.

“I saw that. All the blinds at the front of the shop are open, too.”

“Makes my job so much easier,” he said with a sly smile that sent a rush of arousal through her.

She looked up and down the street once. No one was even walking in the area. “So you’ll go park out front and then get set up?”

They’d decided a sniper shot from another location would give them the most leeway in terms of escape options. If they went into the shop to attack, security cameras there and along the street would capture their every move and the NSA’s state-of-the-art facial recognition software would ID them in a matter of minutes. They’d be caught the instant they showed up for their flights.

The sniper plan was best. Once word got out that there was an active shooter in the area, everything would go on lockdown.

“I’ve already stashed my gear. I’ll park out front then double back and get in position.”

They’d gone over a few options but she’d left it up to him to choose his hide site. “Where?” she asked, watching his eyes. Deep, dark brown. Nearly black. Like Carlos’s had been.

She shook the thought away. Her recent online activity increased the pressure on them. There was a chance someone was onto them already. And after this the FBI would issue a city-wide manhunt, making their getaway window tight.

She’d have to be smart, keep a low profile when she fled. This was risky, but taking the lion’s share of a million bucks was too much temptation.

“Bakery across the street. I already disabled the security system.”

Oh yeah, skilled
and
deadly, like Carlos had been. A pang of grief hit her. God, she missed him so much. Probably always would. Zoe would suffer for taking him from her.

“How long do you need to set up?” In the meantime she’d have to make sure Zoe and Celida didn’t leave the shop before Dom was ready. If they started to leave Dom would alert her. Having Celida there complicated matters. Amanda couldn’t simply go in and take Zoe herself with a trained agent there. She’d have to wait for Dom to flush them out the back.

“Five minutes.”

Excited butterflies fluttered in her stomach.
So close
. “Works for me. You’ll let me know if you need help lining it up?”

“Yes.”

She gave him a cocky smile. “I’ll be waiting. See you later.”

As soon as it was done she’d pick him up at the prearranged meeting spot and wait for Bauer. After that, she’d get the hell out of town. They had other disguises, fake passports and other ID to help them slip out of the country. She knew how to do it. People within Alvarez’s circle had taught her. She’d already booked a last-minute flight out of the country using one of her aliases before arriving here.

Turning on her heel, she crossed the street and headed up the sidewalk back toward the dress shop, the weight of her pistols reassuring her, helping her believe that everything was going to work out. One rested in its holster on her hip, her backup weapon strapped to her calf beneath the pant leg of her uniform. When she glanced over her shoulder, Dominic was already gone, having vanished into the shadows like the ghost he was.

Nerves and adrenaline mixed with excitement, sending a rush of endorphins through her veins.

A buzz of anticipation tingled in her stomach, her rubber-soled boots quiet on the pavement. They were as prepared as they were going to get. All that was left to do was execute the plan. A few more minutes and she’d finally secure what she needed to start the life she deserved.

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