Wanted (Hostage Rescue Team Series Book 8) (13 page)

Terror streaked through her. A Fuentes enforcer was hunting them. On the move, even now. And their only escape was the back door. “What about Sophie?” The shop owner’s head lolled against the wall now, her eyes closed.

Regret in her eyes, Celida shook her head. “We’ll carry her out with us. The paramedics are coming for her and we’re putting her at further risk by staying here. We have to get out now.”

Zoe turned to Sophie, reached down to squeeze one of her cold, limp hands. “Help is coming, Sophie. You have to hang on.”

“
Now
, Zoe,” Celida ordered.

They had no choice.

Zoe grabbed Sophie under the arms while Celida took her legs. Together they carried her to the back door as fast as they could.

****

Waiting outside the bookstore-coffee shop two doors down from the dress shop, Amanda stiffened the moment she heard the first shot.

Excitement and adrenaline punched through her. It was on. She felt giddy with triumph.
So close now
.

Two people who’d just exited the store stopped beside her, staring toward the dress shop.

“What was that?” the man said to the woman beside him.

Amanda went into proactive mode. “You folks better get back inside,” she said, reaching for her pistol. Playing good cop right now was her best chance of ensuring this went down according to plan. “Tell everyone to stay inside until I check it out.”

They gasped and hurried back into the bookstore.

She waited a moment for Dom to say something through the earpiece, but he didn’t. Not wanting to distract him, Amanda started up the sidewalk.

Another shot rang out.

She paused, unsure why he’d taken another shot. Maybe he’d fired at Celida as well?

The wail of distant sirens reached her, making her pulse skip. She’d known this part of the op would be risky. Nothing to do now but keep going with the plan.

Stay calm. Almost there. You’ll be out of here soon enough.

Her heart thudded as she headed for the dress shop. Then Dom fired a third round and Amanda froze. He wouldn’t have needed a third shot unless something was wrong already.

Cold seeped through her gut, dread coiling there like a snake. She tapped her earpiece. “Dom, come in.”

Nothing.

“
Dom
.”

“The bitch is hiding behind cover instead of going to the back,” he snarled.

Dammit. “Is she far enough back from the window for us to use the diversion?” Their getaway hinged on using it.

“Think so. I’m on the move. Can’t stay here any longer.” He sounded slightly out of breath, as though he was running.

“All right. Stay within range.” Pulling back out of sight beneath the darkened awning of another shop, she cast a frantic glance toward the bakery across the street. The sirens were getting closer. They had only minutes left, so they had to act
now
.

Amanda spun away and jogged back up the street, toward the dress shop and turned the corner at the end of the block. Cops—real ones—would be swarming the area within minutes. She had to get around the back and get Zoe immediately. And to pull that off she needed a distraction.

“Do it,” she told him. There was a small risk Zoe would die before Amanda could take her, but they didn’t have a choice right now.

“You sure?”

“Yes. I’ll be at the back in under ten seconds.” She was safely out of range now, running for the back alley.

This was the only way to take the heat off them long enough for her to get Zoe.

Amanda steeled her resolve. Everything was riding on her finishing the job. She was going to get Zoe, then Bauer, no matter what it took.

Inside the now darkened dress shop they set Sophie down against the back wall. Zoe stayed with her, holding her torso upright. Her pulse was still there, but it was fading, her chest barely moving now.

Celida paused by one side of the door, gestured for Zoe to stay put. Zoe locked her gaze on her friend and held her breath. Was the shooter coming around back for them? Was there more than one?

She looked down at Sophie, lying so still, the metallic scent of her blood making Zoe’s already tight stomach roll. Her hands were covered with it.

Pistol at the ready, Celida carefully opened the back door and slid it open a few inches. When nothing happened she pushed it open more, took a quick look outside, then hurried back to lift Sophie’s legs again. “We have to move fast,” she whispered to Zoe.

Zoe nodded, walked as fast as she could while carrying the unconscious woman. They slipped out the back door and into the back parking lot. It was empty except for three vehicles and a cat eating something next to a Dumpster. In the distance she could hear the approaching wail of sirens.

The back of Zoe’s neck prickled. Whoever had shot at them was still out there, would be on the move right now, coming closer with every second. “Which way now?” Zoe whispered.

“North, where Tuck and Clay are coming from. Follow me.” Celida closed the door behind them and took off at a jog.

Zoe hurried after her, her muscles already protesting the weight she carried.

They’d only made it a dozen steps when an explosion tore through the night behind them.

A cry locked in Zoe’s throat as she flew forward. The force of the blast dropped her to the pavement and knocked the breath from her.

Terror forked through her. She pushed up on her hands, fought to gulp a breath of air into her aching lungs. Acrid smoke singed her nostrils and heat licked at her back. Her elbows and knees stung where they’d scraped the pavement and her ears rang.

Rolling over onto her butt, gasping for breath, she stared in shock at the burning dress shop. The explosion had blown the back door off its hinges and flames flickered in the opening. Above her a cloud of smoke billowed upward.

A knot formed in her throat.

Sophie.

She was lying where they’d dropped her, crumpled on her side like a forgotten doll.

Zoe pushed to her knees, shaky as hell, then ran over to check her pulse.

Nothing. Gone.

Swallowing against the sudden twisting of her stomach, she cast a glance around, looking for Celida.

“Zoe!”

At the sound of her voice, relief made Zoe’s legs go weak. She struggled to her feet, ears ringing, and held a hand out for Celida. Her friend was scraped up a bit but otherwise looked okay.

Celida grabbed her, began dragging her away from the burning building. “Run.”

The smoke burned her eyes and throat as she hurried to keep up with Celida. Then a female police officer appeared around the corner. She saw them, waved them over. “This way! Hurry!”

Celida gave her a shove toward the officer. “Go with her. I’m going to help lock down the perimeter and call my team in. Get hold of Clay, let him and Tuck know we’re all right.”

Zoe didn’t bother protesting, just nodded and headed for the policewoman on wobbly legs. The shooter. Where was he?

The cop waited for her, reached out and clamped a hand around Zoe’s forearm. “Are you all right?”

“Y-yes.”

“My patrol car’s over this way. Come on.”

“There’s a sh-shooter here. He’s close.” She was shaking all over.

“I know, I saw.”

Zoe followed her, that horribly familiar sense of numbness already stealing over her. She’d felt exactly like this when that bastard Ruiz had kidnapped her from her apartment in the French Quarter. A psychological protective mechanism.

She tried to shake it off. Couldn’t.

They turned the corner and headed toward the sidewalk that ran past the shops. Other police officers were arriving on scene now. Once they reached the sidewalk Zoe looked over her shoulder to see the dress shop. The burning wreckage of what looked like a vehicle sat at the curb in front of the shop, the brick-front of which was a pile of rubble.

Zoe whipped her head around to face forward and swallowed hard. If they’d stayed in there a few seconds longer, she and Celida would be dead right now along with Sophie.

The female cop nodded at two male officers as they passed them. “There’s an ambulance about two blocks out,” one of them said. “Should be here any minute.”

“Thanks,” the woman responded, continuing to drag Zoe up the street. She drew her pistol, held it at her side, scanning the area for threats. “I’ve got a paramedic friend to check you over,” she said to Zoe, walking faster.

“I’m fine,” Zoe answered, struggling to keep up. She couldn’t seem to get her legs back under her and she was panting like she’d just run a marathon.

The officer shot her a sideways glance. “Anyone you need to call right now?”

“Yes, my boyfriend,” she gasped out.

Something like triumph flashed in the woman’s eyes for a moment, triggering warning bells. “I’ll let you make the call from my car.”

Then Zoe realized they were moving away from all the first responders. She dug in her heels, resisted as the woman pulled her to an unmarked sedan. A ghost car? Something didn’t feel right.

Keeping her hand locked on Zoe’s arm, she opened the front passenger door, that pistol still in hand. “Get in.”

The abrupt command, the fixed look on her face, made Zoe pause. Instinctively she tried to pull her arm free. The woman gripped harder, her nails digging into Zoe’s skin.

Fear sliced through the numbness.

Zoe wrenched her arm back. “Let me go,” she ordered. Zoe was the same size as her; she could take this woman in a fight.

The female cop’s face darkened ominously. She didn’t let go. And then she raised the weapon and pointed it at Zoe’s chest.

Zoe froze. What the hell?

Before she could move the muzzle of the weapon pressed against Zoe’s side. The woman’s voice a menacing growl. “Shut up and get in, or I’ll pull the trigger right here.”

Zoe cast a frantic look over her shoulder. In the chaos no one was paying attention to them at all.

Then a familiar figure emerged onto the street, right in front of the dress shop.

“Celida! Help!” The scream tore from her throat.

Her friend whirled around, saw her, but the fake cop delivered a vicious jab to the ribs with the pistol, and Zoe doubled over.

“Get
in
, bitch,” she snarled, shoving Zoe into the front passenger seat with surprising strength.

Zoe stumbled forward, caught herself on the center console, the weapon against her side stopping her from lashing out. A bullet there would not only cause severe damage, it might hurt the baby.

The woman crawled in over top of her and slammed the passenger door shut behind her.

Zoe sat up and reached for the handle in a desperate attempt to escape but her kidnapper jammed the muzzle of the pistol back against her side. “You think I’m playing, bitch? I’d love nothing more than to pump you full of holes and watch you bleed out.”

Her words made no sense. She was crazy. Zoe had never seen her before in her life. “Let me
go
.” Her heart slammed a panicked rhythm against her ribcage.

“Not a fucking chance.” Keeping the pistol tight against Zoe’s ribs, she wrenched both hands behind Zoe’s back, secured them with what sounded like cuffs. A second later she fired up the engine and tore away from the curb.

Helpless, Zoe remained stock still, staring in the side mirror at the chaos of flashing light and running first responders behind them.

Once on the road the woman tapped what must have been an earpiece and began speaking to someone. “I’ve got her. Meet me at the place in ten minutes.” Then she set the weapon in her lap, grabbed a cell phone from her hip pocket, the car veering erratically across their lane as she did so. “Where’s your boyfriend?” she barked at Zoe.

Zoe’s mouth was too dry to speak. She sat perfectly still while nausea roiled in her belly. Who was this woman? What did she want? Why was she interested in Clay? “I d-don’t know,” she lied. Zoe didn’t want to endanger Clay. Celida had seen them. Maybe she’d be able to get a plate number and track them somehow.

“Bullshit,” the woman snapped, her gaze wild as she careened around slower traffic and fled the area. “Where
is
he?” she screamed, the sudden rise in volume making Zoe flinch.

“I don’t know! What the hell do you want with me?”

“I want to even the score. I warned you I was coming for you,
Zoe Fox
,” she added with a contemptuous sneer.

At the mention of her pen name, all the blood rushed from Zoe’s face.
Her
? This unhinged psycho was the stalker who’d been terrorizing her?

“What do you want?” she repeated, her voice rasping in the sudden quiet. Fear was all but choking her now and she fought it hard. Flashes of her previous nightmare bombarded her brain. This couldn’t be happening again. Just couldn’t.

The woman’s nostrils flared in rage, her breathing ragged. “Give me his number right fucking now. You’re going to tell him to meet us at the address I give you, and that he has to come alone or I kill you. You say or try anything stupid and I’ll make you suffer.”

Zoe had no idea why the woman had targeted her, but she was clearly mentally unstable and meant every word. For now Zoe had to play along, calm her down before she pulled the trigger just for the fun of it.

Zoe gave her the number.

The woman dialed Clay’s cell phone then shoved the phone to Zoe’s ear. “Talk, bitch.”

As Zoe waited for the call to connect, the back of her throat stung with the threat of tears.
Oh, God, Clay, what should I do? I don’t know what to do.

“Bauer.”

She drew in a shuddering breath, then answered. “Clay, it’s me.”

“Zoe?” The raw urgency in his voice sent a rush of tears to her eyes. He already knew. Knew she was in trouble. “Are you all right? Where are you?”

“I’m…”
Scared and trying to be brave, trying to think of a way to protect our baby
. She wanted to put a hand to her belly but couldn’t, wouldn’t dare do anything to make her pregnancy known and give this crazy bitch another reason to hurt her.