by Freya Barker
“If I’m not back before Aiken comes in, tell him I’m heading out to Sinclair Gas on Hwy 6 in Rifle. Bill is in trouble.”
I rush into my office to grab my sidearm.
“Wait. You can’t go alone.”
Bree steps in front of me when I walk out. The look on her face stops me in my tracks and I tuck my gun away before cupping her face in my hands.
“I’ll take Radar.”
“But I—”
“Baby, I need you to stay here and coordinate. Lock up behind us. Bill started saying something about someone being on his way, but he never got to finish who or where to. Could be here, could be the vineyard. Either way, call Kai, get him in, and give Dimi a heads-up. He just left.”
“Okay.”
I kiss her hard before letting her go.
“Radar! You’re with me!” I yell, and he instantly comes tearing out of the conference room.
I’m almost at the door when I hear Bree call out.
“Be safe!”
I turn and throw her a wink.
Then I rush out the door, Radar on my heels.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Bree
I regret staying behind almost as soon as he drives off the parking lot.
“What’s going on?” Lena asks, poking her head over my shoulder.
That jumpstarts me into action and I flip the locks on the front door.
“Call Kai and tell him we need him here,” I tell her over my shoulder as I start walking toward the back. “Oh, and drop the blackout blinds on the front windows.”
The lobby, hallway, and bullpen, as well as Yanis’s office are all facing the parking lot. The entire front of the building is large windows that are usually only covered with a sun screen, but you can still see shapes moving around inside. I’d feel better if we blocked any view.
I walk through the locker room to the large combined storage, workout room, and garage space in the back. That’s the only other access to the office, through the two rolling garage doors or the small service entrance beside them. All three appear securely locked.
Then I unlock the small armory. Basically, a steel cage the size of a walk-in closet which holds some weapons, ammunition, surveillance and security electronics, and other expensive or dangerous equipment. Aside from the sidearm I always carry when working, I select a small ankle holster that holds the Sig P238 that fits my hand nicely. I also grab a blade and sheath that clip horizontally to my waistband in the small of my back, pulling my shirt down over top.
Probably overkill, but it makes me feel a little better, knowing who we’re dealing with.
On my way back to the office, I dial Dimi to give him the heads-up. He says he’ll call Jake.
“What’s going on?” Lena repeats.
Her face now worried as I walk to the panel by the front entrance and set the alarm.
“Could be nothing, but we may have some trouble incoming. Did you get hold of Kai?”
“Yes. He’s on his way in. Should I be worried?”
Part of me wants to tell her no, that everything is under control, but that’s something the guys would probably do to shield her. She may not be a trained member of this team, but she’s still a member. She deserves to know.
“I’d prefer to say careful. Things are starting to heat up and since we’re dealing with an organized crime family, we’d be stupid not to take every precaution.”
She nods once, opens a drawer in her desk, and pulls out a Taser and a can of mace.
“You know I can’t stand guns, but these’ll do in a pinch.”
“Better than nothing,” I conclude. “Still, for now I think you should move away from the windows as well. Why don’t you set yourself up in the conference room? We can hang there until Yanis figures out what is going on.”
If anyone out there gets any wild ideas about coming in, that room would be the safest one, stuck between the locker room and the kitchen, and far away from windows.
Lena doesn’t question me and simply picks up her monitor, lugging it across the hallway. I head for my desk to grab a few things of my own when the alarm suddenly starts blaring.
Yanis
“Bissette.”
“Detective, it’s Yanis Mazur.”
“If we’re gonna be this thick, you might as well call me Crystal. I just left your office.”
Radar chuckles beside me, but I’m wired too tight to crack a grin.
“Crystal. We may have a situation.” I quickly brief her on Evans’s call. “May wanna watch your back. He’s shooting at cops now.”
“Once they cross that bridge,” she states and she’s dead on. “Need anything from me?”
“Just keep in touch.”
“Will do.”
I already spoke with Fillmore, so she’s aware as well and is going to keep an eye on the vineyard. Evans was referring to Sarrazin when he mentioned our friend, but it’s unclear where he’s supposed to be heading. It’s anyone’s guess.
The farther away we get from Grand Junction, the more I wish I had Bree with me. It had been a sound strategic decision taking Radar into an unknown and dangerous situation, given that Bree is still not fully mobile. Leaving her in charge of the office made more sense. The professional in me trusts her capabilities, but the protector in me wants her close.
“Next exit.”
Radar points at the turnoff to Highway 6.
“Give me an idea of the layout,” I ask him as I veer off the highway.
“Main building and parking straight ahead at the rear of the property, pumps and scale on the right with large propane tanks behind those. Not a lot of room to park or hide at the back of the building and it’s fenced off. Looks like chain-link. Beyond that a road and open land.”
“We’ll go in the front. See if we can locate his car, we’ll take it from there.”
“What does he drive?”
“I think it’s a Buick. LaCrosse, maybe? Burgundy.”
To be honest I wasn’t paying much attention when I saw him in Denver last month. I’d been a little preoccupied with Bree.
Radar points to the sign for the gas station ahead and I hit my signal and move to the median. I have to wait for a large truck to turn out of the entrance before pulling in.
“There,” Radar indicates. “Far side of the building, by the bathrooms.”
The rear of the car is visible, wedged between a fence separating the industrial warehouse to the left and a cube van on the right. It’s out of sight from the pumps and most of the traffic and I suspect he parked it there for that express purpose. It’s not until I pull up into the slot on the other side of the van and get out, I notice the pay phone between the his and hers doors to the washrooms. I reach into the Yukon to snatch a ball cap to keep the sun out of my eyes and tug it on my head before moving toward the Buick.
“Shot out the window,” Radar says, as he slips between the van and the car.
Sure enough, the side window is gone, shattered glass littering the passenger seat.
Ballsy, shooting at a driving car in broad daylight, which is worrisome all by itself since doing so without drawing attention would require a silencer. To add another layer of concern there is blood on the center console and some on the driver’s seat.
Evans didn’t mention he got hit. Fuck.
I pivot around to the pay phone and look at the ground underneath. More blood. Not exactly a puddle, but enough to know it can’t be just a graze. Drops lead away from the phone to the side of the building and the narrow passage between it and the fence.
“It leads to the back,” Radar comments, already starting in that direction.
Toward that service road behind the gas station, and the open land beyond.
“Hold up,” I call out. “Take the car around.”
I toss him my keys and follow the trail of blood to the rear of the property.
Looking around I can’t see any good places he may be hiding, except for the cluster of large propane tanks on t
he other side. No one in their right mind would risk shooting at those, but that’s not to say someone might not have other tools in their arsenal. Especially since their target is already injured.
But the trail isn’t leading there, it’s leading straight to the chain-link fence, which is about eight feet tall. Not an easy feat to scale for someone who is injured, but desperation and adrenaline can make people do impossible things.
A splash of red visible in the dry grass on the other side confirms Bill got over. I take a few steps back to get a running start and plant my right foot as high as I can against the fence, launching off the left as my hands reach for the top. As I pull myself up with sheer upper body strength, I swing my left leg up and over, and carefully drop down on the other side.
With my eyes focused on the ground in front of me, I follow the thinning trail down a ditch and up to the road. There isn’t a lot of traffic and I’m able to cross over to the other side, where I lose the track.
My own adrenaline has been fueling me but I’m forced to stop and take a deep breath. There’s a lot of land out there. Dry mesa going up a rocky ridge with only an occasional cluster of brush that wouldn’t exactly provide secure coverage. The rocks would, if he was able to get that far.
I hear a car door slam behind me and swing around to find Radar approaching, carrying the rifle I have clipped behind the passenger seat for easy reach.
“Which direction?”
“I don’t know. Lost the track, but my guess is that rocky ridge over there.” I’m pointing to an area that isn’t quite as sheer as the rest, with plenty of loose boulders to hide behind. “Let’s split up. I’ll head right, you start from the left. We’ll meet in the middle. Call out if you find anything.”
Radar nods and starts off in the direction I pointed him at while I go the other way.
The terrain is fairly level at first but gets rougher the closer I get, with smaller boulders and deep gullies formed by centuries of winter runoff. I keep my eyes peeled for any tracks but don’t find anything until I come up to a cluster of rocks and brush.
There’s what looks like a stain of blood at shoulder level on a large boulder. As if someone was leaning or brushing against it. When I touch it with my finger it seems to be dry. It’s been there a while.
I wish I would’ve thought to bring radios, but had been in a hurry. It would’ve been safer than calling out since I don’t know who is out here, or what we’re heading into. Still, I need to let Radar know.
“Found something!”
The next moment shards of rock explode inches from my face.
I’m already dropping to the ground when the suppressed sound of a shot registers. I’d bet my life that was a rifle and not a shotgun. From my vantage point I don’t have a good view, so I crawl to the other side of the rock—where I hope I have a little more coverage—and lift my upper body.
One of the drawbacks for me is that there’s no visible barrel flash with a suppressor of any kind, but maybe someone is stupid enough to stick their head up.
I’m sure Radar heard the shot which was still audible, just not quite as sharp. He’s the one with the rifle and therefore the better range, so if I can just draw some more fire, he may be able to spot something from his vantage point.
I give him a minute or two to get closer and then lift the ball cap off my head, sticking it into view. The impact of a bullet rips it right out of my hand.
Radar’s shot is not silenced and loudly reverberates against the rocks. A second one sounds and I get to my feet with my gun drawn, knowing whoever was shooting will be distracted. Then I hear a volley of muffled gunfire coming from the top of the ridge. I can see a shooter and fire off a few rounds in his direction, but it’s the well-aimed loud crack from Radar’s rifle that appears to bring the man down.
“Status!” I call out.
“One down. I’m coming in from your ten!”
“Mazur!”
I wasn’t expecting to hear the faint sound of Bill’s voice.
“I’m coming!”
I start to step out from behind the rock and scan the direction I think his voice came from when another salvo kicks up the dirt at my feet. This shooter is closer and slightly farther to the left than the other.
“There’s two!”
“Good to fucking know,” I yell back, as I crawl on my elbows to the cover of the next rock. “Radar?”
“Got a bead. Hang tight,” he returns right away.
I hate waiting for someone else to do the hard work, but I trust Radar as I do every other member of my team. Besides, it sounded like he’s up a little higher on the ridge and has the better vantage point. I’m a bit of a sitting duck in the gulley.
I would’ve expected to hear sirens—for sure we’ve drawn some attention—but other than the distant rumble of traffic the mesa is silent.
And that, more than anything else, makes me uneasy.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bree
“Stay in there.”
Lena sticks her head out of the conference room but I wave her back.
The noise is coming from the back, but I still do a visual check of the front lobby as I make my way to the locker room. Nothing is moving and the entrance door is closed. It’s not unusual for our guys to come in the back, but with the alarm on you’d only hear a short beep when the alarm is disarmed.
With my sidearm in hand, I move through the locker room. The door to the back is closed and I ease it open a crack, scanning what I can of the space beyond. Unfortunately, I can’t see the service door from here—the surveillance van is blocking my view—so I gingerly make my way to the other side of the vehicle, using it as cover while I check my surroundings.
When I round the rear of the van I lead with my gun, prepared to shoot first and ask questions later.
Kai is lying facedown on the floor underneath the alarm panel by the closed service door.
“Kai?”
He tries to lift his head but seems unable, moaning softly.
I approach cautiously, sweeping the space with my gun from side to side, but other than Kai nothing is moving. I note the cover for the alarm panel is flipped up.
What if he had a medical emergency? Came in, started entering the code and collapsed? I can’t see any blood, there are no injuries visible, and the bay looks otherwise empty.
Kneeling down beside him I put a hand on his back.
“Kai? What happened?”
He mumbles something incoherently.
Grabbing his shoulder, I try to roll him on his back but he’s heavy. He needs medical attention. Putting the gun down, I use both hands to turn him over.
“My songbird…”
Before my ears can register the whispered words, I feel a sting in my back and my body explodes with unbearable pain.
My muscles jerking and no longer in my control, I fall forward over Kai’s prone body, unable to do anything to protect myself. I can’t stop him tying my wrists with what feels like zip ties.
I’m aware of a hand grabbing my arm, flipping me over, and then I see him.
“Hello again.”
His smile is more disturbing than the Taser he’s holding in his hand.
Angelo Sarrazin.
I try to move my fingers but other than a few twitches, they’re useless like the rest of me. Kai moans again.
“What did you do to him?”
The words are slurred, my mouth not cooperating.
He ignores them—tucking the Taser in his pocket with the leads still attached—and reaches down for me.
The sound of a gunshot reverberates through the cavernous space and Sarrazin collapses on top of me. I try to move to roll him off but although the pain is gone, my body is like rubber.
“Did I kill him?”
Lena comes into view, her face white as a sheet, and a weapon clutched in her hand.
“Can you point that somewhere else?”
She looks down at her hand as if she didn’t even reali
ze the gun was there. She promptly drops it on the concrete floor, just as the back door swings open.
“FBI!”
Yanis
“Radar!”
I’ve been waiting to hear something—anything—for the past ten minutes, but other than the distant traffic noises things have been quiet. Surprisingly so.
“Looks all clear, Boss.”
He sounds much closer than before.
I cautiously get to my feet and see him standing on the ridge where I saw one of them go down. I start moving in that direction.
“What’ve you got?”
“Think I just winged him. Just a few shells and some blood. Looks like they took off.”
Damn. I was hoping we could catch at least one of them.
As I reach the rocks underneath the ledge, I hear my name called. The voice is coming from my left where a large boulder partially obscures a crevice in the rock wall.
“Evans?”
I move closer and notice there’s a slight widening near the bottom of where the boulder rests against the ridge, barely large enough for someone to fit through. I go down on my haunches.
“Bill? Are you in there?”
“What the fuck took you so long?” his disgruntled voice comes back.
“You hurt? Can you get yourself out of there?” I ask, ignoring his comment.
“Bullet in my right shoulder. My fucking arm is useless.” As he talks, I can hear movement from behind the rock. “Couldn’t even get my gun from my shoulder holster. I was too busy fucking running,” he complains as his feet appear.
“Need a hand?”
“Be much fucking obliged. Been stuck in that damn hole for an hour waiting for those damn vultures to piss off.”
I bite off a grin, glad to know he’s at least well enough to be angry. I wrap my hands around his ankles and pull. When I get his body clear, he’s using his left hand to hold the other arm in place. His eyes are closed and his face looks kind of gray. The shoulder looks a mess.
“Need a hand, Radar!” I call out, leaving Bill lying on the ground to catch his breath.