Large fluorescent floodlights brightened the garage in an unnatural way. Too white. Too stark. Too easy to see someone coming from a distance.
That was an advantage now, as he sat in the car. No one would easily surprise him. Not so much later when he would be the one sneaking up on unsuspecting people.
Mia Rowland was in the courtroom testifying, but soon she would be making her way back down to the garage to make a quick getaway in the government issued black Suburban.
He wondered how things were going. Not that he gave a rat’s ass about the case or how it was decided. His only interest was in the woman currently under scrutiny. Was she squirming in her seat on the witness stand?
He had planned this excursion for a while. Being placed in witness protection prior to her testimony had forced him to wait longer than he had wanted.
The man glanced around the garage half expecting to see the man Mia had been screwing prior to her sequestration. And while he had never actually seen Ben Wells, the Navy SEAL shouldn’t be hard to locate. SEALs all looked the same. Big muscles. Cocky grins. Dumb as rocks.
He cursed the special operations under his breath. They were a thorn in his side that he would love to extricate. Taking Mia away was as close as he would be able to come to exterminating Wells. But that was all secondary to his overall plan.
Making Mia pay for her transgressions—that was the number one priority.
And he was going to make her pay over and over until she begged for mercy.
Then he would decide if she would live or die.
Chapter Three
The gray skies mirrored Ben’s mood. Pulling to a stop at the gate of the CIA offsite facility in Reston, Virginia, he rolled down his window. The air was crisp and smelled of impending snow. The security guard looked at the picture on Ben’s military ID and he stared intently at him for what seemed a bit longer than necessary. Scanning the back of the card, the guard glanced at the small screen, and then handed the ID back to Ben.
“Clear to go through.” He pointed to a parking lot. “Park in visitor parking only.”
Ben replaced the ID in the holder attached the lanyard around his neck. “Thanks.”
Eighteen hours had passed since he received the phone call from Flaherty stating gunmen had shot up the federal courthouse. At the time, no one knew if Mia was alive or dead. Still didn’t, but the evidence was pointing to her still being alive.
No one knew where the hell she was, though.
Riley Bray, a CIA analyst, stood next to the entrance of the non-descript gray brick building. She was talking to Lance Knight, Ben’s commanding officer. Both were members of the highly covert special operations unit known as The 13.
Ben parked, locked the rental car, and met the two at the entrance.
“Hey, Humps,” Lance greeted him.
Ben shook Lance’s hand, and then Riley’s. “Any news?”
“Let’s get inside,” Riley said. “I managed to get use of a skiff while we’re here.”
Riley had great connections at the CIA. She had been an up-and-comer before she had joined the team. Now that she was one of the top two people in The 13, she could get pretty much whatever she needed with a phone call to the right person.
And she had all the numbers to all the important people at the “company”.
Inside the skiff, Flaherty sat at one of the computer stations. Riley, Lance, and Ben took open seats at the back so they can get a full view of all the various screens in the tactical operations center, or TOC.
“Here’s what we know so far.” Riley pointed at Flaherty, who tapped some keys and brought up a black and white video from a surveillance camera. “Four men entered the courtroom, heavily armed, and started shooting.”
“To me,” Lance said, “it doesn’t look as if they were aiming at anyone in particular at the onset. I think the initial shots were to get everyone’s attention before they started going after their targets.”
“Ballsy move,” Ben said. “Why would they give them a heads up when they had the element of surprise and could’ve taken out the targets without prior warning?”
“Good question,” Lance responded. “Arrogance, maybe. Or impatience.”
“The first confirmed target was the judge.” The red beam from Riley’s laser pointed at the robed figure as he was hit in the center of his forehead. The defense attorney was next, then Hutton.”
The sight of Senator William Hutton made Ben’s blood boil. The man had tried to kill Ben and Mia after they had met with him. Ben hadn’t gotten a good vibe from the man during the meeting, and was on high alert after Mia explained how she had discovered some accounting discrepancies with his charitable foundation. The two barely made it out of Hutton’s office alive.
From there, they discovered Hutton was using his foundation to launder money for the RRA. Once the feds found out, Mia became a prime witness and was forced into witness protection until she could testify at the trial.
They were so close to being able to be together again—until these fuckers burst into the courtroom.
“After that, they go after the US Marshals on Mia’s protection detail.”
Ben watched as Mia was pulled from the witness stand, and surrounded by three marshals. Her eyes were wide. Blood streaked down the side of her face. A door at the back of the courtroom opened, and the men exited the courtroom, followed by the four RRA gunmen.
“From there, they head toward the service elevator to the basement where the holding cells are for the prisoners. The marshals had a van waiting to take Mia from the courthouse, which was in the parking lot with access from the basement.”
“Is there video of the hallway?” Ben asked.
Riley shook her head. “No, there was a malfunction with the cameras in the hallway and the parking garage. I suspect whoever helped the gunmen into the courthouse with the weapons, also managed to fuck with the cameras or the recordings.”
“Perfect.” Ben leaned back in his chair. “So we know nothing about what happened after she left the courtroom.”
“Not true,” Riley said. “We know there was more gunfire in the hallway. Three of the RRA members, along with a sheriff’s deputy, and Mia’s detail from the courtroom, were killed.” She turned to Flaherty. “Put up the crime scene photo from the parking garage.”
Two men, dressed in the same black uniform as the RRA members in the courtroom, lay on the cement, blood pooled around their bodies.
“We believe, as do the police and FBI, that one of these men brought Mia from the hallway behind the courtroom. The other may have been waiting for them, and attempted to ambush the marshals in the van. Our best guess, at this point, is that the marshals were able to kill these two, and take Mia to a safe house.”
“If that’s true, why haven’t we heard from anyone?” Ben asked.
“It’s not uncommon—especially with a major breach in security like the one here—that the marshals have gone dark. It’s clear someone, or a group of people, helped the gunmen get in and possibly out of the building. The marshals are most likely under a ‘trust no one’ protocol until they know better. Once things have cooled down, and the threat is not as high, they will contact the FBI.”
Riley’s desk phone rang. She answered it and swiveled around in her chair, putting her back to Ben and Lance while she spoke to the caller.
“The marshals’ main concern is keeping Mia safe,” Lance added.
“So, what do we do now?” Ben asked. “Just wait to see if your theory is true?”
“No, we continue to look into things,” Lance said. “I’m not willing to just accept this version—not with Mia’s life on the line.”
Riley hung up the phone and faced them. “That was my contact at the FBI—there’s some new developments.”
Ben sat forward in his chair, his emotions an electric charge ping-ponging through his body. He hated the helplessness that consumed him. “Have they heard from the marshals? Is Mia okay?”
“No news
from the marshals, but I convinced them that since this involves Mia and the some of the dead bodies are confirmed RRA, they need our help.”
“Did they buy it?” Lance asked.
Riley stood up and walked toward the door. “Seems so. They’re letting us into the crime scenes.”
Chapter Four
Crime scene tape blocked the entrance to the parking garage under the federal courthouse. Riley spoke to the young police officer with a clipboard. He looked at her credentials then pointed to a man in a black suit talking to a DC cop.
“Thomas,” Riley greeted him as they approached. She put her hand out to him. “Thanks for letting come down here and check things out.”
Thomas shook Riley’s hand. “Don’t mention it, just not sure what you hope to find? We have been going through all three crime scenes, and not coming up with much.”
“Still no word from the US Marshals?” Lance asked.
“Thomas Letz, this is Lieutenant Commander Knight, and Ben Wells. Both Navy SEALs assigned to Mia’s protection prior to the trial,” Riley said.
Letz shook both of their hands. “Nothing, and I think even the Marshals are starting to wonder what is going on. They’re cagey whenever asked about the protocol and how long before the Marshal’s are supposed to check in with them.”
A cool shiver coursed down Ben’s spine.
Another man in a suit standing next to a car called for Letz. The four walked over the car. “This is the only unclaimed vehicle in the lot,” the man said.
Letz stuffed his hands into blue latex gloves and opened the passenger door. Reaching into the glove compartment, he pulled out a stack of papers. “Rental car.” He flipped through a couple of sheets. “Rented by the Truxton Corporation out of Norfolk, Virginia.”
“Corporations can rent vehicles?” Ben asked.
“Yes and no,” Letz responded. “They can rent it for their employees who are travelling on business, but the person driving it has to show driver’s license when they pick up the car.”
“And who is the employee?” Riley asked.
“Russell Truxton.”
“Owner?” Ben asked.
Lance glanced at Riley, and they seemed to have a conversation telepathically. Ben wondered what they knew that they weren’t sharing.
Riley’s phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID. “Excuse me.” She stepped away and answered the call.
“So why would Mr. Truxton be at the courthouse?” Ben asked.
“And why did he leave his car behind?” Lance added. “All the victims are accounted for?”
Letz nodded. “Yes, we’ve been able to identify everyone who was in the courtroom—mostly Hutton’s family and press. Most made it out unscathed or with only minor injuries they got when the mass exodus from the courtroom after the gunfire started. The rest were taken to the hospital or the morgue. The only ones unaccounted for are Ms. Rowland and her security detail.” Letz placed the rental documents into a plastic evidence bag and marked on it. “I’ll double-check Mr. Truxton’s name against the list we have of people in the courthouse, but I don’t recall his name on there.”
An agent yelled for Letz from the other side of the garage. Letz excused himself and walked toward the agent, who was standing next to the van. Lance and Ben hung back and waited for Riley to get off the phone.
“I’m not getting a good feeling about all this,” Ben said. “I get the marshals are being cautious and don’t know who is running counter to them, but they seem to be a little too tight-lipped about some basic information.”
Lance dragged his hand down his face, and sighed. Ben guessed he hadn’t been anymore sleep than Ben had since Mia’s disappearance into thin air. “I agree. I know they are following protocol and not contacting anyone for a prescribed amount of time, and have some procedures in place to finally get in touch with the Marshal’s Office. “I’m more interested in this vehicle, and why it’s here.” Lance kicked the tire of the car.
“Do you think Mr. Truxton has something to do with Mia’s disappearance?”
“Riley discovered some information regarding the RRA’s operation during the attack of the embassy in Jordan.”
Ben nodded. They had all been briefed on the situation when Riley was named to the team. Lance had been at the embassy to observe another spook for the last position on The 13 when he had met Riley. While there, the RRA ambushed the US Embassy. Lance had captured one of the RRA members, who sat in a cell in Guantanimo, Cuba. Riley had been in a shoot-out with a man who had worked for her—and turned out to be a double agent for the RRA. “Something that might shed some light on this situation?”
“Potentially.” Lance glanced around to see if anyone was near them before he spoke. “According to the asshat who tried to kill Riley, the RRA has people in various high positions within the government who are able to pass intel to the RRA—“
“Like Senators—“ Ben added. “So, you think this Truxton may have been able to get the terrorists into the courthouse?”
“Or attempt to help them escape.” Lance glanced across to where Letz stood next to the dead RRA members. “For all we know, Mr. Truxton is one of the men eternally napping in their own blood over there.”
Ben looked through the windows of the abandoned rental car. A fast food bag and empty drink cup sat on the floor behind the passenger seat. Otherwise, the car was empty. “Wonder if they found anything else in here?”
Lance walked over to the driver’s side, pulled the sleeve of his jacket over his hand, and opened the door. Ben heard the pop of the trunk being opened. “I’m going to assume they have already processed the vehicle,” Lance said as he rounded the back end of the car.
Various items littered the floor of the trunk. Nylon ropes. Zip ties strewn everywhere from an open bag, as if someone had grabbed a handful in a hurry. Ben covered his hand with his sleeve, and reached in and pulled out a syringe still in their packaging. “Looks like a kidnappers tools of the trade.”
“We need to find out if one of those dead men is Truxton,” Lance said.
Ben nodded in agreement, butterflies taking flight in his stomach. If not, where was Truxton? And did he have Mia?
Chapter Five
The sun warmed Mia’s cheek, rousing her from sleep. Slowly opening her eyes, she lifted her head from where it rested against the car window.
Where am I?
She rubbed her eyes and looked out the window, trying to focus on her surroundings. Parking lot. But where? No snow—couldn’t be DC or Newport. The sun was bright, gleaming off rows of boats in the harbor. There were only a few places she could be where it was this warm in the winter. South. But where exactly, she had no idea.
Rustling from the driver’s seat startled her. A man in a long-sleeved black shirt, black pants shifted. He wore baseball cap pulled low, his chin was dropped to his chest, obscuring any ability to see his face. A smattering of black hair poked out from under the hat. Along the hairline was black residue from hair dye. Mia wondered what the original hair color was.
“Who are you?” she asked. “Where are we?”
“Somewhere safe,” a raspy voice said.
A lead ball sat on Mia’s shoulders in place of her head. Steady throbs on her temples beat a monotonous tone in her head. She tried closing her eyes, but the sunlight pulsed in time with her headache. Squinting against the sun, she wished there was a pair of sunglasses she could put on. She leaned her head back against the seat. Weightless legs and arms, as if she had slept for too long, but could still use a few more hours. “Did you drug me?”
He turned his head only slightly towards her. “I gave you something to help you relax and sleep during the drive.”
She tried to calculate how many hours she had been out, but her normally number-centric brain was still too hazy to think clearly. Not that it mattered. That was the past—what she needed to know was what he had planned for her future. She knew she should be worried, but whatever he had given her was blocking any fears
she should have. Probably a good thing. Fear can make a person impatient, and while she was struggling to clear the fog in her head, the last thing she needed to do was get impulsive and get herself killed.
“So what now? Are you going to take me somewhere and kill me?”
“Why would I save you just to kill you?” The man lifted his head and stared at her.
She bit her tongue to keep from laughing at his crooked fake mustache. Maybe the drugs in her system were making too relaxed. She turned her head away to keep herself from making him mad. At the moment, he seemed to be agreeable—which was at odds with every member of the RRA she had been in contact with. She half expected him to punch her in the mouth while providing an answer. “Because that’s what you people do. Make a grand spectacle out of killing people you deem are your enemies.”
He wagged his head back and forth, knuckles white from the tight grip on the steering wheel. “I’m not your enemy, Mia.”
Something in the way he said her name, even through the forced raspiness of his voice, sounded familiar to her. Did she know him? She tried to focus her foggy brain on who he could be. She knew he was a member of the RRA. Had Hutton gotten out of the courthouse?
No. Mia had watched the gunmen shoot Hutton in the courtroom. The distance was so close, it was doubtful Hutton anything that resembled a chest left.
So who was this guy?
She studied at the man’s profile. He yanked his hat down and turned away from her.
Didn’t really matter, she figured. He was going to kill her. Hate flamed to life as the realization set in. It pissed her off. She was so close to being free. She had nearly completed her testimony against Hutton. Nearly free—somewhat, anyway—from the RRA. She knew she would never fully be invulnerable of the terrorist organization, but she had Ben and the rest of his team to protect her.
Shit…Ben.
Ben (The 13 Book 4) Page 2