Consummate Betrayal

by Yungeberg. Mary

  “Sweet Jesus, God almighty. Rowan – can you hear me? There will be hell to pay when I find those bastards.” The voice broke into a sob. “Get an ambulance – hurry.” A set of feet raced from the room. With consciousness came unbearable pain and when the darkness called, he went willingly.

  * * *

  Ralph sat on the floor with Rowan cradled in his arms. Tears streamed from his eyes as he took in the battered face, bludgeoned body and for the love of God – the mangled wrists. Holding his friend’s limp body close to his chest, certain he was dying, he rocked him gently back and forth, murmuring “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” until the paramedics charged into the room behind Chad. They lifted Rowan capably out of his arms while he stayed on the floor in a shocked daze, staring at the blood on his hands and clothes.

  Chad gave his shoulder an urgent shake and he looked up, tears burning his eyes. “I’m not sure Rowan’s gonna make it.”

  His special agent’s face twisted in a grimace. “We need to find those agents and make sure they don’t get in the ambulance with him.”

  The specter of Rowan in their brutal hands again galvanized him, and he staggered to his feet. The overpowering stench of his friend’s blood and sweat turned his stomach. Stepping out of the room, he bent over, hands on his knees, and took deep breaths. Recovering his equilibrium, he tore after Chad, through the cavernous warehouse into the melee starting outside. The ambulance sat across the parking lot, blue and red lights flashing, while the paramedics made their careful way toward it with Rowan on a stretcher. “Chad, get the car, pick me up, I’m going to make sure those bastards aren’t with him, else I’ll be in the ambulance too. Just look for me.”

  Chad was already pelting around the corner of the warehouse. They’d parked behind the dilapidated building in the alley, hoping to surprise the CIA’s thugs. Looking down at his bloodied clothes and hands, he clenched his fists in renewed rage, but fright overcame him as he remembered how limply Rowan had lain in his arms. How much blood had he lost? What had turned an interrogation into such a brutal attack? Wiping sweat and tears out of his eyes, he peered across the parking lot and sure enough, there were the two CIA agents. He pulled his weapon and broke into a run. They weren’t going anywhere with his special agent, he’d see to that.

  * * *

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Danielle sat at her desk, resisting the urge to check her watch again. Where was Rowan? When she left the hotel, he smiled and said he’d see her in a couple hours. The file he’d asked about lay on the chair he should be occupying. When she tried calling, his phone went directly to voice mail, and her texts went unanswered. Feeling uneasy, she wondered if she should call his boss. Derek stuck his head in her office. “Dani, you need to see what’s on TV, right now. I swear you are not going to believe what’s happening. Come with me to the restaurant, quick.”

  Danielle made her way to the airport restaurant and sank into a chair beneath the flat screen on the wall. She stared at the headline and gasped. Suspected Terror Mastermind Apprehended in Sioux Falls, SD. Still staring, she listened in numb disbelief as the news anchor spoke. “A CIA undercover operation carried out in Sioux Falls, South Dakota has yielded the arrest of FBI special agent Rowan Milani. Milani, who has been an FBI agent since 1998, has most recently been on assignment with an Anti-Terrorism Task Force and is suspected of operating as a double agent, recruiting for terror organizations globally.”

  Head reeling, she put a hand to her mouth when Rowan’s official FBI photo flashed on the screen and the anchor continued. “It also appears that Milani violently resisted arrest and was injured before being subdued by four CIA agents during the early morning takedown. Reports confirm that an agent involved in the arrest was shot and later transported by ambulance to Avera McKennan Hospital in Sioux Falls, where he remains in stable condition. We now go to live video coverage from South Dakota.”

  Unable to stop shaking, Danielle stared at the TV and felt Derek’s hands on her shoulders. Waves of shock rolled over her as she watched paramedics swarming around a stretcher being rolled out the door of a warehouse. Two huge men milled around waving guns, trying to get as close as they could to the stretcher. Then she saw Ralph Johnston, covered with blood. Was he with the two men?

  An oxygen mask covered Rowan’s face. One of his arms hung over the side of the stretcher and bright red blood leaked through a bandage that covered the lower half of his arm. As she stared in horror, one of the paramedics noticed, grabbed Rowan’s dangling arm and laid it across his chest. Shoving back the chair, she stood up, stomach heaving and turned to head for the restroom across the hall. Ignoring Derek’s surprised “Hey,” and with a hand plastered tight over her mouth, she barely made it into the stall before losing her breakfast. Collapsing to her knees, she covered her face with her hands. Who could have done this to Rowan? Would he live? Could she see him? She had to see him.

  * * *

  Ralph waited until he was certain the CIA agents weren’t riding in the ambulance to the hospital. While he stood doubled over, trying to catch his breath, he watched the two men sling Rowan’s laptop and briefcase into a black Suburban, leap in and speed off. Frantic honking caught his attention and he turned to see Chad braking to a stop at the edge of the parking lot in the red Mustang. Media vehicles poured into the already cramped parking lot, disgorging reporters lugging cameras and microphones, making navigation nearly impossible. A mixture of city police cars, Minnehaha County Sheriff’s vehicles, highway patrol cruisers, a fire and rescue truck and unmarked patrol cars clogged the lot as well.

  Racing to the Mustang, he dove in. Chad hit the accelerator and almost instantly the brakes, turning hard to avoid a reporter, a blonde woman, dressed in black and carrying a microphone. Uttering a sharp “Fuck this,” Chad gunned the car across the snow at the edge of the parking lot, weaved between a tree and lamp post, jumped the curb and screamed into traffic, spewing gravel and sliding with shrieking brakes around the first corner, against the light. A white Honda minivan heading through the intersection slammed on its brakes, almost broad-siding them, horn blaring as a blue Ford Focus rear-ended it with a loud bang and the tinkling crunch of breaking glass.

  Digging his phone from his jacket pocket, Ralph hit number one on his speed dial. “Listen, Operator, I don’t care about protocol, I don’t give a rat’s ass about what meeting he’s in. Get me through to the president, right now. No, I’m not joking. You tell him its Ralph Johnston calling regarding Rowan Milani, and it’s a matter of national security.” Near to hyperventilating, heart hammering, he laid a hand on his chest.

  Suddenly pressed against Chad’s shoulder, he read the speedometer, realizing with widening eyes and a dry mouth that he hadn’t known a car could take a corner at that speed. The Mustang clunked down hard, and he was thrown against the passenger side window with the sure knowledge that they’d been on two wheels. Chad blew through the Monday morning back-to-work traffic in Sioux Falls, passing cars impressively, leaving screeching tires and honking horns in their wake.

  It was his good fortune that the CIA goon left guarding him at the hotel was an arrogant son of a bitch looking for bragging rights. Remembering the man strutting back and forth made him sick. Yeah, we got a room all set up for your special agent. He’s gonna be interrogated and then it’s straight to an Egyptian prison for that traitor. When the foolish agent shoved Rita into the hallway, threatening her with deportation if she didn’t forget about what she’d seen, he took the opportunity to grab his Glock. When the agent came back in the room, he told the moron to tell him where they’d taken Rowan or he’d shoot him. The coward folded instantly and told him the address of a rented warehouse.

  The morning meeting he’d set up for Chad, Rowan and himself was one more stroke of luck. Chad had been en route when he cgedd him. The kid loved to drive fast, and they reached the warehouse on the northeast edge of Sioux Falls in law-breaking as well as speed-breaking records. The agents hadn’t thought to loc
k the overhead door, and their frantic search of the dark interior revealed nothing except a locked wooden door marked OFFICE. An abandoned, solid oak coat rack stood outside the door. It made a superlative ramming bar. Queasiness gripped him again as he saw Rowan in his mind’s eye, bloodied body hanging by his wrists on a damn meat hook. It took a certain kind of animal to do that to another human being and then walk away.

  Chad slammed the car into park at the Trauma Five emergency entrance of Sanford Medical Center, practically sending him through the windshield as the White House operator came back on the line. “Special agent Johnston, I have the president.” Ralph held his breath while the president said good morning.

  “Good morning, Mr. President, and thank you, sir, for taking my call.” He noticed Chad out of the corner of his eye, staring at him with a curious frown. “This is a matter of utmost urgency. I believe you are quite familiar with FBI special agent Rowan Milani. Sir, I am not in a position to provide you with the details at this time, but the integrity of the missions you have sent him on and our national security are in grave danger of being compromised. He is not, I repeat – not a double agent. I will stake my career and my life on that. I am asking, Mr. President, that you personally remand him from CIA custody into my protective custody, immediately.”

  Pausing to let the president absorb what he’d said, he waited, short of breath. When the president spoke, he blinked back tears of relief. “Thank you, Mr. President. You won’t regret the decision sir, and I will keep you informed. Thank you again Mr. President. Good-bye, sir.”

  He flung the passenger door wide and scrambled out. “Come on, let’s go.” Chad already waited outside the car and they ran with weapons in hand, into the Emergency reception area. The young police officer assigned to patrol the ER had seen them coming and stood with pistol gripped tightly in both hands.

  Swearing softly, Ralph wiped sweat from the side of his face, holstered his Glock and addressed the young man. “Officer, it is imperative that we access a patient in your emergency room. My name is Ralph Johnston and I’m the Special Agent in Charge of an FBI Anti-Terrorism Task Force.” Tilting his head at Chad, he continued. “And this is FBI special agent Chad Cantor. Time is of the essence. I’m going to show you my badge and ID, so take it easy.” Reaching slowly into his inside jacket pocket, he pulled his ID and badge for the police officer to see. “Now, unlock the door – please.”

  The officer holstered his pistol and complied, pushing a button that released the lock, sending them through the door into the emergency treatment area. Luck or God was on their side one more time. The ambulance team had just brought Rowan to a cubicle and were milling around inside the curtained opening, rushing between the cubicle and the central Nurse’s Station in the middle of the room. Flashing his credentials, he took in the frantically working doctors and nurses.

  Motioning to Chad, he stationed his subordinate on one corner of the cubicle entrance, while he took the other. They stood, weapons at the ready, Chad watching a long hallway with double doors at one end, while he kept the door they’d entered in his sights. It was only a few minutes before the two CIA agents burst through the double doors and pounded down the hallway, skidding to a stop when they saw Chad.

  Chad stepped to the center of the hallway and aimed his Glock unerringly at the chest of the black-haired agent who’d manhandled Rowan at the hotel. “Drop your weapons where you stand, or I will shoot you.” His special agent’s face wore pure intent and the stocky black-haired man dangled his gun by one finger and laid it on the floor. His partner, the tall, muscle bound Neanderthal with blonde hair did the same.

  Chad advanced slowly, weapon still aimed. “Is that the one, boss?” He nodded, wondering what the kid was up to. Chad nodded back, his mouth a grim line. Then his special agent shrugged his shoulders, twisted his neck and without warning executed a flawless roundhouse kick that connected with the black-haired man’s left cheek, snapping his head to the right. The CIA agent fell like a pole-axed bull. Ralph nearly laughed out loud when his subordinate looked at the other agent. “Wanna go next?” The big man backed against the wall and raised his hands.

  Chad confiscated the discarded weapons, giving him an idea. “Special agent, lock their guns in the trunk. We may need them later for leverage, and they sure as hell don’t need them in here.”

  * * *

  Danielle splashed cool water on her face and grabbed a paper towel to dab at the wetness while she stared at herself in the mirror. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom, holding one hand on her still rolling stomach. Derek waited, eyes narrowed, a frown etched on his face. “Are you OK? Is there anything I can do for you?”

  Hoping she could talk, she shook her head. “Yes, have they said where they’re taking Rowan? You can give me a ride to the ER. I have to see him and make sure he’s going to be all right.”

  Derek nodded. “Yep, they took him to Sanford Medical Center. Are you sure you want to go to the hospital? You don’t want to be linked to him, especially not now. I told you he was dangerous. You should have listened.”

  Scorching anger blotted out her thoughts. “How can you say that? Just get away from me. I’ll drive myself.” Intense grief crushed the anger and hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Leaning against the wall, she covered her face and sobbed.

  A firm hand gripped her arm and an authoritative voice spoke quietly in her ear. “It’s all right, Dani. I’ll take you to the hospital and make sure you find out what’s going on.”

  Lowering her hands, she sniffed and wiped at the tears, trying to compose herself. Jax stood next to her, dark eyes compassionate. “I’m sure Ralph Johnston will be there and I’ll have access. If I can arrange for you to see Rowan, I will.” Jax wrapped comforting arms around her, and she buried her head in his shoulder. That was all she needed – to see Rowan and make sure he was going to live. Then she could tell him how much she loved him.

  * * *

  Ralph looked up to see Chad striding through the door, an angry look on his face. “Boss, the media have arrived. I got back inside before they could get to me and instructed the police officer to send them away. The guns are in the trunk, and I moved the car to the parking lot.”

  The media was another complication they didn’t need. Shaking his head, he placed a hand on Chad’s arm and drew his subordinate close. “I’m going to take those two thugs to a conference room and have a chat. Sometime soon they’re going to get the message that Rowan’s our boy now, and I don’t think they’ll be too happy about it. Stay right here, and don’t you let anybody take him out of the ER until I get back, unless it’s to emergency surgery. If that’s the case, let me know.”

  When Chad nodded his assent and stepped back to his vigil beside the cubicle, Ralph turned to the loathsome pair of agents, massaging his neck in a vain effort to relieve the tension. “Gentlemen, we need to chat. I believe there’s an empty conference room down this hall, if you’ll come with me.” He waggled his pistol and the two men followed him. As he’d thought, there was a small room a short distance down the hall, with a table and chairs.

  Waving the two agents into the room ahead of him, he shut the door and leaned casually against the wall with his Glock cradled in the crook of his arm. “Sit, please.” Both men just looked at him. Gazing from one belligerent face to the other, he scratched his chin. “I could call my special agent in, if you’d like. I’m sure he’d enjoy having another go with either one of you.”

  The black-haired agent touched the fresh bruise on the side of his face. “Bring it on. Your special agent won’t surprise me again.”

  He decided to ignore the bullish man. “Here’s the thing – the man you abducted this morning is now in my custody, by order of the president. We don’t need your services any longer.”

  The two agents glared at him, and the ugly blonde cracked thick knuckles before speaking. “Rowan Milani is a bona fide terror suspect and belongs to the CIA now. He is our prison
er and will be transported out of here on an agency jet. You can’t do anything to stop us.”

  Approaching the thickset agent, revolted by the bloody cuts on the man’s knuckles, Ralph decided he’d had enough. “Let me tell you two torture-for-hire thugs something. I spoke with the president less than an hour ago. If you think you’re taking special agent Milani anywhere, I can guarantee you with absolute confidence that you will not walk out of here.”

  Standing in front of the towering man, he poked him in the chest with the barrel of the Glock and looked up into angry brown eyes. “Rowan Milani isn’t going anywhere, except probably to emergency surgery to repair what you did to him. Now, I am done with this pissing match. I’ll make you a deal. We’ll exchange special agent Milani’s laptop and briefcase, including contents, for your weapons. As a matter of fact, let me be more specific. Neither of you is leaving until I have possession of the items I mentioned.” Glowering from one to the other, he added, “Don’t bother telling me you don’t have them, because I saw you stash them in your Suburban at the warehouse.”

  Before either man could answer him, the door opened and Chad appeared. “They’re taking him for a CT scan, boss. The doctor would like to speak with you.”

  Ralph nodded. “Thanks, special agent. Stay with these two, but don’t hurt them. If they’re so inclined, we’ll make an even exchange of their weapons for special agent Milani’s laptop and briefcase, contents included. Manage the transaction as you see fit. I’ll let you know where we are.”