Until Now (Plan B Book 1)

by Delaney Diamond

  “As always, I appreciate your help.” Cruz clapped him on the arm.

  “Anytime.” Raheem turned to Shanice and kissed the back of her hand. He flashed the same sexy grin he greeted her with the first time they met. “It was nice meeting you, Shanice. Maybe we’ll see each other again sometime.” He glanced at Cruz, as if sending a message to him.

  “It was nice meeting you, Raheem, and by the way, I’m a hugger.”

  She stepped into him and gave him a hug. He initially stiffened, but then he relaxed and hugged her back.

  When they released each other, Raheem cleared his throat. “Take care.”

  He went down the hall, and she and Cruz entered their room.

  “Pack what you need. Only what you need. Right now,” Cruz said.

  Shanice nodded and went to work.

  While she stuffed items into her backpack, Cruz dialed Miles on his encrypted phone.

  “Yes?”

  “The job is done, and it’s more complicated than we initially thought. You’re not going to believe this. Cheng is going to want to know about it,” he said, referring to the head of Plan B.

  “Your assignment was off the books,” Miles reminded him.

  “And it should be on the books. A sitting senator of the United States is sending mercenaries after U.S. citizens, and he’s killing cops.” Cruz pulled across the heavy brown curtain and peered outside. He didn’t see any unusual activity in the parking lot.

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You’re sure about this?”

  “No, but I’m certain of one thing—his buddy Randall Logan is involved, bribing police officers to intimidate and harass tenants in apartment complexes in five different states. He pays them a hefty sum, anywhere from five to six figures.” He quickly went into the details they’d uncovered.

  “So you have no proof Sandoval is involved, and even if you did, I’d have to kick this up the chain of command. We’re talking about a goddamn sitting senator and the chairman of the Appropriations Committee. Plan B is not going to want to touch those allegations without proof. He has a lot of influence on how the money in the budget is allocated.”

  “Miles, my instincts tell me—”

  “Cruz, I understand the gravity of what you’re saying, but your instincts don’t mean shit. You need proof. We can’t go on a fishing expedition with Sandoval. Any investigation has to be handled delicately, carefully, and from what you’ve told me so far, I don’t see the need for an investigation.”

  Cruz ran a weary hand down his face. He hated to admit it, but Miles was right. “I get it. I have a flash drive and other information that will bury Logan. I need to get it to you.” Since this assignment was off the books, they hadn’t established a secure channel to expedite the information to Miles.

  “Where are you and how soon can you get here?”

  “Houston, and I’m flying out tonight. We already picked up a tail. I’m ready to leave.”

  “Okay, by the time you land, I’ll have everything sorted out.”

  “Be careful, Miles. Remember, I have a civilian with me.”

  “What about the senator’s niece? Any indication that she’s involved?”

  “I can’t confirm or deny, but my gut tells me she’s not involved. I don’t think she would have come to you if she was. It’s him, Sandoval.”

  “You think.” Miles sounded tired. “Send me a text as soon as you land. I’ll send someone to pick you up from the airport.”

  “I don’t trust anyone.”

  “Well, you’ll have to trust me. Just get here, Cruz. I’ll be waiting.”

  23

  “Get in here!” Randall belted the words and then slammed down the phone. Resting an elbow on the chair’s armrest, he rubbed his throbbing head with shaking fingers.

  One minute later, his son Jacob entered the study.

  Fuming, Randall demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me they broke into the accounting office at Logan Towers today?”

  His son looked very polished wearing a three-piece suit. Moments ago he’d come back from a meeting with investors, but Randall was not as interested in the results of the meeting as he was with the fiasco that had taken place at his company headquarters.

  “I was handling it.”

  “Handling it? What exactly did you do to handle it?”

  Jacob stiffened, an indication that he was biting his tongue, but he wouldn’t dare talk back to Randall.

  “Shanice Lawrence was spotted by Garrett, a member of our security team. He recognized her from the photo we’d given them when they’d broken into her apartment a couple of months ago. He called me and I told him to keep an eye on her. She went into a Starbucks. He and another member of the team watched from nearby, intending to follow her to wherever she was headed, but unfortunately, she was picked up by two men. Our guys continued to follow them.”

  “And…?” Randall prompted impatiently.

  His son smoothed a hand over his hair and mumbled something.

  “What did you say?” Randall asked sharply.

  “They got away.”

  Randall chuckled without amusement. “These people are running circles around us.”

  “She’s obviously working with professionals,” Jacob said defensively.

  “I wish we were,” Randall snapped.

  Both men stared at each other before Jacob dropped his gaze.

  Randall shoved angrily to his feet. Gripping his cane, he shuffled over to the window and gazed out at the landscape. Spread out before him were acres of land which he purchased with his own hard-earned money. He didn’t care how other people defined “hard-earned.” For him, that meant long hours in the office and using his sharp mind to one-up his opponents. It also meant sometimes he needed to bend the law so he could achieve his goals.

  “What did they take from the accounting office?” he asked.

  “The IT manager said they downloaded the accounting manager’s entire computer,” Jacob answered.

  Randall’s heart plummeted. Not good. “They know,” he said in a deadpan voice.

  “We can still stop them.”

  “How?” When his son didn’t answer, he turned to face him. “Lucky for you, I have friends in high places. I happen to know that Miss Lawrence and her accomplice are headed to DC tonight to meet with the U.S. Attorney General. Put a team together and stop them.”

  “I want to be there, too.”

  “No. Absolutely not.” Hand tightening on his cane, Randall shook his head vehemently. “You don’t need to be that close. You get too close, you get your hands dirty.”

  Jacob stepped forward, his face hardening with resolve. “If I’m there, I can make sure they’re successful. Let me do this for you, Dad.”

  Randall didn’t like the idea of his son getting close to the action. All his life, he had kept his hands clean by hiring other people to do the dirty work. That allowed him to stay above the fray and sidestep the law on numerous occasions. If law enforcement had no real evidence, they couldn’t tie him to any illegal activities.

  But his son’s earnest expression was his undoing. Though he didn’t want Jacob to go to DC to handle that meddling woman and her friend, Jacob clearly wanted an opportunity to prove himself. With his military background, he might succeed.

  “Take the jet. Get her, find out what she knows, and then kill her. But be careful. This man she’s working with is clearly very dangerous and smart.”

  “I know who to call. They’re former mercenaries and the best.”

  “Then go, and bring me some good news for a change.”

  24

  Cruz sent a text as soon as they landed and confirmed that his supervisor, Miles, would send transportation for them.

  Wary of their surroundings, Shanice stuck close to his side and kept her backpack wedged against her body as they walked through the airport. She’d wanted to nap on the flight but stayed awake the entire six and a half hours, unable to completely rela
x. Her only comfort on the journey from Houston was having Cruz in the seat beside her. He managed to sleep, and she envied his ability to disconnect and recharge.

  He took her hand and gently squeezed her fingers. “It’s going to be okay,” he said quietly. “Remember what I told you? I won’t let anything happen to you, and I meant that. Even if I have to come back from my grave to keep you safe.”

  “Not funny,” Shanice said, bumping him with her hip. Though she wouldn’t be surprised if he were able to keep her safe from the grave.

  He smiled, and she relaxed. If he wasn’t worried, she wouldn’t be. He had the flash drive taped to his side under his shirt, and Shanice knew no one would be able to get their hands on it. They’d have to kill him first.

  They didn’t have long to wait outside before a black Chevrolet Suburban pulled up and a slender but wiry man jumped out from the passenger seat.

  “How’s it going?” he said with a grin.

  He looked at Cruz when he spoke. With shaggy black hair and bright green eyes, he appeared young—probably no more than twenty.

  “Great,” Cruz said. “If I’d known Miles was sending you, I would have put in a request for someone else.”

  The young man chuckled and they shook hands and briefly embraced in a half hug.

  “This is Shanice. Shanice, this is J.C.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she said.

  “Likewise.”

  They shook hands while Cruz placed their bags in the back of the vehicle.

  “We’re headed to the Department of Justice. Miles has arranged everything, including an escort.” J.C. inclined his head at another black Suburban in the back containing three burly men.

  They didn’t acknowledge them. Their faces remained as expressionless as stone.

  “Will Miles be there?” Cruz asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  They all climbed in, and Shanice greeted the driver. Where J.C. was rather young, the driver, who introduced himself as Sam, was older. He had a more seasoned appearance and an air of experience when he gave a curt nod in greeting.

  When they pulled away from the curb, J.C. turned halfway in his seat and asked, “Where are you going after you talk to Miles and the U.S. Attorney General?”

  “To sleep,” Cruz answered.

  “Where are you staying?”

  “No idea yet.”

  J.C. obviously admired Cruz, but now that the initial friendly greeting had passed, Cruz was not as interested in conversation. He kept his eyes trained on their surroundings outside the vehicle.

  As they cruised along, Shanice idly examined her hands. Wrinkling her nose at her chipped fingernails, she promised herself when this was all over, she’d treat herself to a mani-pedi. Maybe a massage, too. She sighed at the idea of a pampering session.

  “How far away is the Department of Justice?” she asked.

  “Only about five minutes away now,” J.C. answered.

  There wasn’t much traffic this late at night, and Shanice wondered how long the short trip took during a normal work day.

  They crossed the bridge that spanned the Potomac River, and her heart became heavy at the thought of her separation from Cruz. What happens after the interview? she wondered. Would he leave, like he said he would? Would she ever see him again? The conclusion to this mess didn’t take as long as she’d expected. She thought they’d have more time together.

  They slowed to a stop at a traffic light. The stately buildings signaled they were getting closer. This was her first time in DC and she considered spending a few days in town to do some sightseeing.

  “Look out!”

  Her head swung around at the sound of Cruz’s voice, and she followed his line of sight to where a black Escalade had pulled across the road in front of them. A man hung out the window with an automatic rifle trained on them.

  Sam slammed on the brakes. After that, everything happened fast.

  Gunshots filled the air, and the few pedestrians in the street scattered like frightened mice.

  The SUV tires flattened, shots coming from the Escalade in front and a black sedan parked on the side. The windshield shattered into pieces, and Shanice ducked as the ra-ta-tat-tat of gunfire from an assault rifle pummeled the steel doors.

  Sam slumped over the wheel and the horn blared while the SUV, no longer under the control of its driver, coasted toward a parked mini-van.

  “Ohmigod! Ohmigod, what is happening?” Shanice screamed.

  But even as she asked, she acknowledged that was a ridiculous question. She knew exactly what was happening. They were being ambushed.

  Cruz grabbed her wrist. “We have to—”

  Boom!

  The front of the Suburban upended, sending Shanice on the equivalent of a wild, crazy roller coaster ride. Ears ringing, she grappled at dead air in a vain attempt to set them back on their tires. The vehicle paused upright, as if deciding what to do, and then crashed onto its left side with flames shooting out of the engine.

  Temporarily disoriented, Shanice shook her head to dispel the loud ringing in her ears. She was suspended by the seatbelt, which cut into her torso and neck.

  Cruz fought with his stuck seatbelt. He cursed loudly. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Shanice barely heard him. He sounded muffled and far away. Still struggling to get her bearings, she opened her mouth to respond, but the words caught in her throat when her car door was yanked open and strong hands grabbed her by the neck.

  Panicked, she choked out a cry. “Cruz!”

  The man grabbed her under the arms and cut her seatbelt.

  “Shanice!”

  Cruz lunged as far as the seatbelt allowed. She reached for him and he grabbed her hand, but it wasn’t enough. Her fingers slipped through his as she was hauled from the vehicle by two sets of hands.

  “Cruz!” she screamed.

  She did her best to struggle, determined not to get into the back of the car because she had no idea what her fate would be. She slammed her left elbow into the chest of the man beside her, and he retaliated with a stinging blow to the temple that made her see stars.

  In essence, she was no match for the bigger men, and when one of them cocked a gun to the back of her head, she thought for sure she was dead.

  “Get in the fucking car.” He roughly shoved her in the back seat while the other man went around to the other side.

  The driver pulled away immediately.

  Shaking and terrified, Shanice cowered in the back, seated between the two men, both with dark hair. The one on the right had steely black eyes, but the one on the left—

  Her breath caught. She recognized him from the photos in Dennis’s box. He looked very much like Randall Logan, and when Raheem had done a quick internet search, they’d learned that he was Logan’s youngest son, Jacob.

  The one on her right spoke first. “You have something we want. If you want to live, you’ll give it to us.”

  “I don’t have anything.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Yes. The man you left behind in the Escalade has it. Not me.”

  Black Eyes sneered. “We’ll see if you have the same answer when we get through with our thorough interrogation.”

  Jacob simply smiled, and Shanice’s stomach dipped low with fear.

  He had to get to her. Her wide, panicked eyes and ear-splitting scream would haunt him for the rest of his days if he didn’t.

  Cruz cut himself loose with a piece of broken glass and hoisted his body out of the capsized vehicle with a Sig Sauer P229 he lifted from the holster Sam had strapped to his side. Before he had exited, he spotted J.C.’s blood-spattered chest. He was about nineteen or twenty years old and was probably excited about being chosen for such an important mission. Poor kid, he thought, and cursed Miles and Plan B in his head.

  The agency recruited its agents young, preferring people who came from damaged homes or who had no close family. There probably wouldn’t be anyone mourning J.C.’s death.
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br />   As soon as Cruz landed on the ground, a shot pinged the undercarriage of the vehicle, and he took off running. The Escalade came barreling toward him. They must’ve stayed behind to make sure he was dead.

  As more bullets whizzed by, he took a flying leap across the hood of an old station wagon, landing hard on his shoulder. Pain ripped up his neck, and he winced but managed to hold onto the gun.

  With a quick glance to the right, he caught sight of the sedan carrying Shanice make a left down the street. Goddammit. He had to hurry if he planned to catch them.

  The escort vehicle was in shambles, fire spewing from the engine and the sides dented with bullets. The occupants appeared to be dead. Like the Suburban he rode in, a bomb had detonated under it, and then the attackers had opened fire on the driver and the two passengers.

  He heard the Escalade doors open and dropped to his stomach. Peering under the car, he saw two sets of feet moving stealthily toward him. Cruz aimed and fired twice, hitting both men in the ankle. They howled in pain and one collapsed to the ground.

  He jumped up and fired two more shots from behind the vehicle, killing them and ducking when the man in the back seat pointed the AK-47 at him. A round of bullets rocked the car he used as a barricade, and Cruz crept toward the front and peeped over the hood.

  The same man now had a bazooka on his shoulder.

  Holy shit.

  Cruz scrambled away, dropping into a roll behind a red sports car when the weapon hit the station wagon. He crouched into a ball, covering his head as the station wagon exploded and fragments of steel, rubber, and glass rained down around him.

  Taking advantage of the carnage, Cruz circled around the front of the sports car. The man had no idea Cruz was no longer behind the torched vehicle. He crept to the other side of the Escalade, moving fast but staying low. He opened the back door, taking the enemy by surprise. The man swung toward him and Cruz shot him in the side of the head. He shot him a second time for good measure.

  Assuming he started with thirteen rounds, he had seven left.

  Cruz ran around to the other side, took hold of the man he shot, and dragged him out of the SUV. Then he hopped into the driver’s seat and took off down a one-way street, flooring the accelerator.