Desert Rescue (K-9 Search and Rescue)

by Lisa Phillips

  Not with the hurt so fresh.

  Patrick wasn’t here for her, and he wasn’t sticking around to get into a relationship. When she fell in love again, it would be with someone for whom she would be the priority. The one that someone was wholly devoted to and would never leave.

  As much as she might want things to be otherwise, she had to face facts.

  That someone wasn’t Patrick. It never had been.

  The elevator doors slid open and the orderly wheeled Nate inside. Patrick moved alongside the man in his scrubs. They both shifted at the same time, blocking the doorway so she had to wait to enter. Finally it cleared, and Jennie shifted to follow.

  Someone grabbed the back of her jacket, tugging her away from the elevator doors. “What—”

  Whoever it was shoved her before she could turn, and she stumbled. Nearly fell.

  “Jennie!” Patrick’s voice rang out. Tucker barked.

  She looked back to see Tucker race out between the doors before they slid shut. Gone. She glanced at the man standing behind her.

  One of their kidnappers!

  Tucker growled.

  * * *

  The orderly blocked his way to the closed doors. Patrick resisted the urge to shove the man aside.

  “Mom!”

  Patrick turned to Nate, still seeing in his mind the second she’d been dragged back. Pulled away from the elevator.

  “What happened? Where is she?”

  “I don’t know.” Patrick wanted answers to those same questions. He moved to the panel of buttons. Emergency stop? Or should they just try to go back up? “We need to—”

  The orderly cut him off. “Don’t press any of the buttons.”

  Patrick turned to him, wondering why the man’s tone sounded so threatening. “Why wouldn’t I—” He knew the answer to his question and didn’t need to finish saying it.

  Behind Nate’s back, the orderly had a gun pointed at him and his son. Not one of them in particular. But the fact he could shoot either—probably faster than it would take Patrick to pull his gun—wasn’t good at all.

  He didn’t know what to say except, “Don’t.”

  Cold rage settled over him, along with a healthy dose of fear. If something happened to Nate, while he stood there...forced to watch.

  His son of only hours—all Patrick had ever had with him—would be dead. Because he’d failed. If Jennie was somewhere, safe and alive, Patrick would have to tell her.

  She would never forgive him. Not when he’d promised to take care of them both.

  His fingers drifted to his own weapon. But what could he do? Start a war that would result in far too many innocent casualties.

  The gunman saw it. “Put that on the floor. Slowly. Then kick it toward me.”

  Patrick shook his head as he studied the man’s face. Not one of the kidnappers Jennie had identified. This man wasn’t Martin Wilson, Nate’s uncle, either. So who was he? Another man on Martin’s payroll. Living on the proceeds of those ill-gotten gains, thinking he could do whatever he wanted with no repercussions from the law.

  “You think I’m going to disarm myself?”

  No cop worth anything would do that, no matter what was at stake. It was the same as the government’s principal not to negotiate with terrorists. Patrick was never going to give all the power to a bad guy with a gun.

  Not. Gonna. Happen.

  The cop he was, and the father, would never do that. Not when possession of his own weapon meant protecting the innocent here—his son.

  “Don’t think you’ve got much play here.” The gunman smirked. “So unless you want cop brains all over the elevator, you’ll do what I say.”

  He wasn’t going to kill Nate. Whether by principal, which meant he had at least some convictions even if it wasn’t much, or because he’d been ordered not to kill the boy... Did the why even matter?

  Patrick had that one thing working in his favor. And he was going to use that to get Nate to safety, put this man in cuffs and find Jennie. That was the only acceptable outcome here. Even when all hope was lost, there was always a way to find a victory. His cop mentor had taught him that.

  They saw ugly every day. It was easy to forget that there was still good in the world. Right now Patrick needed hope and a second chance.

  Was this guy one of the dirt bikers, here to get revenge for his maimed friend?

  He hadn’t counted on them when he’d made his plan, determined to get Nate and Jennie safe from whatever her brother had planned.

  Now he realized exactly how thoroughly he’d miscalculated, even with Sheriff Johns providing a female deputy to go with Eric and act as Jennie’s double.

  Now his K-9 partner was with Jennie instead of here to help him search for her.

  First he had to disarm this guy and get Nate to safety. Then Patrick was going to rescue her. Tucker just had to protect her until he got there.

  Nate shifted, still sitting in the wheelchair. “Dad.”

  Before the gunman could react, Patrick said, “I’ll get you back to him soon, buddy.” He had to play this like the kid was just his charge. Not that he was Nate’s father—a man with everything to lose if this went wrong.

  Or if the gunman recognized precisely how much leverage he had.

  Nate sniffed. Patrick wouldn’t blame him if he gave away too much. That wouldn’t be fair. He was a smart kid, but even a rookie cop could unintentionally divulge information in a high-stress situation.

  “I’m not going to let you take the boy.” Patrick motioned at Nate with a flick of his fingers. “You think I won’t get fired if I let something happen to him?”

  The gunman’s lips puffed out, his expression belligerent. “You think I care?”

  “I’ll be better off dead with benefits for my family than alive and disgraced, with nothing. So go ahead.” Patrick patted his shirt—underneath which was a vest.

  Any second now, the elevator doors would open. He needed a distraction. Anything. Something. The upper hand, even for a split second, to get the jump on this guy.

  The gunman studied him, probably trying to figure out if Patrick was just reckless or if he was actually serious.

  Anything to buy him a few extra seconds.

  “What’s the plan, huh? Take him to your boss. For what?”

  “What do you care?” the gunman asked. “You’ll be dead.”

  “Answering a question with another question. Typical.” Patrick rolled his eyes. It probably didn’t look right. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually ever rolled his eyes before in his life. “But I don’t think you’ll get far. This is a hospital. Cops. Security. They’re all here, protecting the woman and her son. You know, considering they were kidnapped and all.”

  The gunman’s lips twitched. “Heard about that. Shame I wasn’t in on it.”

  Patrick didn’t like the look in his eyes at all. The only source of comfort was the fact that Tucker was likely protecting Jennie right now. No way would anyone be able to take her again, not with his dog there.

  Nate twisted in his chair to look at the man. He reached down for the wheels and turned them opposite directions, rotating the wheelchair toward the gunman.

  What was he...?

  “You’re going to die. The kid and me are leaving.”

  Patrick pressed his lips together. At least say it right. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Then you’ll be dead before the doors open.”

  He wasn’t sure that was true. Patrick wondered if he’d ever killed anyone before, and if he had the stomach to do it now. Still, regardless of the perceived threat level he had to get this situation resolved.

  The only thing Patrick could think to do was pray. I asked Jennie to pray. You were supposed to be protecting them.

  He wasn’t sure how he’d feel about a God who didn’t com
e through for His own children.

  “You’re dead, and the kid comes with me. If I don’t call to say I have him, they kill the mom.”

  The bottom dropped out of Patrick’s stomach.

  Jennie.

  THIRTEEN

  Jennie felt the poke of the gun in her side. She gritted her teeth and tried to think past the barking. “Tucker.”

  “You tell that dog to shut up.” His punishing grip squeezed her arm as he dragged her down the hall. The gun barrel glanced off her ribs.

  She sucked in a breath through her nose. “Tucker, be quiet.”

  The dog leaned forward, ears lifted. Teeth bared as he barked again at the man holding her.

  A nurse exited a room in front of her. “What is going on out...”

  The gunman’s breath hissed in Jennie’s ear. “Act natural.”

  A sob worked its way up her throat. She coughed it back down. Jennie covered the action with her hand and waved the woman off.

  Nothing to see here. Just a police dog obviously agitated.

  “Tucker.” She didn’t know what to say to him. Would he even listen to her?

  “You shut him up, or I will.” He yanked on her arm, squeezing the bandage over her elbow. Jennie cried out.

  “Hey!” the nurse yelled.

  Three steps from the stairwell—not the spot Jennie wanted him to take her to—the nurse yelled, “Where you guys going?”

  The gunman, a man who’d kidnapped her and didn’t care one whit if she lived or died, swung around. Cameron? Carl? She didn’t remember his name from the police database. All she cared was that his move put Tucker behind him.

  The nurse’s gaze darted between Jennie and the man who held her in a tight grip. She had a cell phone in her hand. Had she called security?

  The nurse put her hand on her hip. “You’re just gonna leave without giving me a hug?”

  As though behind them both, Tucker wasn’t growling to indicate a serious threat.

  The nurse was stalling. Jennie said the first thing that came to mind. “You know I’d never do that to you, girl.” As though this woman was a longtime girlfriend. Someone she cared about the way she cared about Beth. This nurse was going up against an armed man. She’d read the situation and she was putting her life on the line to intervene.

  “We should find that handsome officer so he can come get his dog,” the nurse said.

  Yes, we should.

  “You gonna let her go so she can say bye to me, and I can call that cop?”

  Wow, Jennie thought, this woman might be the bravest person she’d ever met. She could’ve broken down and cried right then and there.

  “No.” The gunman tugged her backward, to the door for the stairs.

  Tucker barked.

  “You back off, dog.”

  No, don’t do that, Tucker. But how did she get him to intervene in a way that didn’t lead to this horrible man trying to hurt him?

  “I’m not going with you.” She whispered the words, her gaze wholly on the woman. Pleading with her, and letting the gunman know she wouldn’t cooperate.

  Praying with all her might that the nurse would understand what was going on.

  That she had, in fact, already called security and was just delaying this man. Waiting for them to show up.

  Jennie lifted her chin. “Tucker won’t let that happen.”

  “So I fire this gun. Kill you. What happens to your boy then?”

  “I’m not letting Martin have him.” With her eyes she pleaded with Tucker to...what? He flashed those intense dog teeth and growled.

  The man chuckled. His only response to her comment regarding her brother, or his opinion of the animal. It seemed like there was something he knew—or thought he did—that she didn’t know yet. Or he was determined to be smug.

  Either way, she had to get out of this. Fast. Preferably with no one being hurt in the process.

  “On second thought,” Jennie said, “take me to my brother. I want to see him.”

  “Good choice.”

  She’d find a way to break free of his hold and grab Tucker’s leash instead, or this guy would haul her all the way to wherever Martin was hiding. After she spit in her brother’s face for what he’d done to her family, she would figure out how to get away.

  Everything she’d learned years ago in that very basic self-defense class escaped her now. She could remember a stretch or two—that she couldn’t do—from the six months Nate had decided he wanted to be a ninja and she’d taken him to martial arts classes at the local gym.

  Then he’d decided he loved animals more and wanted to be a vet.

  She was a million percent sure right now that he was going to decide unequivocally that he wanted to be a cop. Probably a K-9 handler. She wouldn’t blame him at all. If she was honest with herself, Patrick made her want to be one, too. He and Tucker were both heroes.

  “Sir.” The nurse looked stern now. “You need to let this woman go.”

  They were almost at the door. Tucker barked again, his back to the door. Determined not to let them get through. Good dog.

  Jennie wanted to shake her head, vehemently, at the nurse but she didn’t want Tucker to get hurt. Then Jennie would likely be pushed down a flight of stairs. Just because he wasn’t there to kill her, didn’t mean he needed her hale and hearty when she got wherever they were going.

  Behind the nurse, a security guard armed with a stun gun stepped into the hall.

  Her heart sank.

  Jennie lifted her hands. Do it. For Nate. “Everyone just calm down.”

  “That’s right.” The gunman dragged her back another step. “Move, dog. We’re leaving. Anyone who stops us is going to die!”

  “You don’t have to do that. Let’s just go.” She didn’t want this to cost anyone their life.

  Unless that was what he wanted? Maybe this scene had been inevitable. He hadn’t had any plans to go downstairs and this was all just to cause a distraction.

  So that someone else could take Nate.

  But her son was with Patrick. Nothing would happen to him, not with a cop in the elevator. She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut, take a second and pray, but there was no time. “Please.” She could only muster that one word.

  And then he tugged her back again. Tucker barked.

  The man lifted the gun, so it was pointed past her. At the nurse.

  Self-defense. Jennie bent her knees a fraction. In one move, she grabbed his wrist, twisted her hips and swung his whole body around. He basically fell over her. But he was so heavy, she collapsed to her knees and he rolled, arm around her now.

  His arm tightened so she couldn’t inhale.

  Jennie tried to get away from him. The gun went off and someone cried out.

  “No!” Jennie had no idea what had even happened.

  The gunman waved his weapon around. Tucker closed in, barking loudly enough to make her wince.

  “Shoot him!” That sounded like the nurse.

  A man said, “I’ll hit her!”

  Jennie tried to scramble to her feet and get out of the line of fire. She couldn’t think. The gun slammed into her temple and her vision sparked with stars.

  She wasn’t going with this man. She was going to fight the way Tucker was, for her life and for the life of her son. His father. Her family.

  Jennie jabbed back with her elbow and hit something solid. The gunman grunted. A heavy weight slammed into her. Maybe the gunman, too. Warm fur. Tucker.

  Jennie hit the floor and everything went black.

  * * *

  Patrick was so focused on protecting his son from the man with the gun, he didn’t see how it began. He heard a grunt and before he realized what Nate was up to, his son had moved.

  Nate gripped the wheel bars, turned the chair with a twist and flung out one leg.
The gunman groaned and fell back against the wall, but he didn’t go down. Nate didn’t have enough momentum or strength to do any damage. But it was sufficient to distract their assailant.

  Behind the gunman, the elevator doors slid open. Patrick dived. He slammed into him and took the guy to the ground.

  They hit the floor in a tumble. The man grunted again. Patrick grabbed his wrist and wrestled for control of the gun. He didn’t exactly play fair, elbowing the man in the stomach so he struggled for a breath, but the life of his son was at stake.

  The gunman roared.

  Tucker barked.

  “Tucker!” That was Nate.

  Patrick slammed the gunman’s wrist on the floor and the weapon skittered away. He lifted up and off the guy, then turned him onto his front and secured him with cuffs. He then patted him down; no phone, no wallet. Not even a gum wrapper.

  “Nate?” He glanced back and saw the empty wheelchair. Where was...? Nate peered around the corner, still in the elevator but out of the way of flying bullets. “You okay?”

  The boy stepped out, looking nervous.

  “He’s cuffed. He won’t hurt you.”

  “I heard Tucker.”

  A second later, Patrick’s dog rounded the corner, his leash dragging along the floor behind him, and raced over. Patrick retrieved the discarded gun and tucked it in the back of his waistband. Then he motioned for Nate to come to him. Tucker got there first, skidding on the tiled floor when his paws lost traction and slamming into Patrick’s leg. “Hey, Tuck. Did you do a good job?”

  Nate giggled. Patrick figured he was less likely to go into shock if he kept moving. Processing. When a person froze up, problems occurred. So he picked up the leash and said, “Let’s walk.”

  Nate eyed the man lying prone on the floor.

  A security guard approached. “State police?”

  Patrick nodded. “Officer Sanders.”

  “We’ve got another one of these guys upstairs. Secured him and called in the sheriff. He’s sending someone over to pick him up.”