Despite his rather unimpressive appearance, though, there was a presence about the man that Jordan realized would be intimidating to most people. It was the way he carried himself and the expression that stayed on his rather non-descript face.
And it was the gun in his hand.
None of those things concerned her, though, and Jordan made a beeline for him, taking him down to the ground before he even realized she was approaching him. She might have put on a touch of extra speed to make sure that she got to him before he got to her. With one arm around his waist and the other hand encircling the wrist that held the gun, she threw him down, then kneeled on his arm, trapping his weapon hand and yanking the gun from him.
She did all this in mere seconds, not giving him time to react to her. All he could do once she had his gun was stare up at her face, and she stared right back at him, smiling smugly. “Hello, Sal,” she said, greeting him as if they should know each other. It would only further throw him off, because they definitely did not know each other. But there was no way for him to know that she had been standing outside the building, listening to every word that he had exchanged with Alana.
“Who the fuck are you?” Sal demanded, fighting back against her now. He was shocked when he realized that he couldn’t move an inch. Clearly he was another one to judge her based on her size. It was a mistake everyone made—but only once.
“I’m Jordan,” she said with a chilling smile. “And if I were you, I’d be careful about boasting about your own investigative and protective team, because they’re not very good. I tracked Alana right to you, and it wasn’t even hard. And look—now I have you pinned to the ground, and who is about to swarm in here and save you? I’m guessing it’s exactly no one. I guess Alana should have abandoned her loyalty to you and stuck with me. What do you think?”
Sal spit at her, and Jordan ignored the insult, paying no mind to the spittle that landed beside her foot.
“Wes,” Jordan called, glancing back at Wes, as he stood at the broken window but far enough away to avoid getting in her way. “See to Alana, will you? I need her to stop weeping.”
Nodding, Wes made his way over to Alana and put his hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to look at him. Jordan looked away from the two of them. It still bothered her when Wes and Alana touched or spoke, and it bothered her just as much that it bothered her personally.
So, she focused on Sal. “So,” she said, mimicking his conversational tone that he liked to use to make people aware of how insignificant he found them. “I hear you’re the ringleader of a gem theft ring. That’s interesting news. I know a few people who would be very interested in your line of work. They’d have a lot of questions for you.”
Sal glared at her, attempting to push her off him again. She didn’t budge.
“I’m stronger than you,” she said. “You might as well stop struggling.”
“That’s impossible,” Sal said, attempting once again to overturn her. “I’ll have you killed for this.”
“Yeah, I’m very scared about that,” Jordan said, dryly. “Really. Truly. I’m trembling. Since I have you here, Sal, why don’t you tell me a little more about this infamous organization you run. It sounds to me like you have a lot of people exactly where you want them. And I don’t believe for a minute that you don’t know who’s out to kill your number-one employee. At least, according to her she’s your number-one employee. You don’t seem to feel the same. Sounds like a mediation issue. Maybe we can get a counselor in here to sort things out between you two. Develop some good communication techniques. Things that will help you express your feelings to Alana rather than hiring two very ineffective hit men to take her out, so you don’t have to deal with her anymore.”
Sal shoved at her uselessly. “You don’t know anything.”
“You’re right,” Wes said, quietly.
Jordan looked over at Wes, who nodded at her. He was telling her that he was hearing confirmation of her theory in Sal’s thoughts without giving too much away to Alana. She looked back at him, then down at Sal.
“You’re not a very nice man, are you?” Jordan said, contemplating what she should do with him. He was the head of the gem ring she was now investigating, which meant that he was an invaluable source of information. On the other hand, he was a deplorable person who would take a deadly shot at any of them if he got the opportunity.
Jordan leaned back, off of Sal, and stood up, pulling him with her. He was a much larger person than she was, and he seemed astonished that she could move him around with such ease. Bringing him to his desk, she shoved him down in the chair, picking up the gun he had been holding earlier and training it on him.
“I want you to bring up a list of your employees,” she said, nodding at the computer. “I want a full rundown of your organization, and if you don’t give it to me, I’ll shoot you.”
“I don’t even have what you’re asking for,” Sal said through gritted teeth. “It’s impossible. I would be a fool to keep a document like that.”
“Then start typing,” Jordan said, keeping the gun trained on Sal but glancing over at Wes and Alana to make sure that they were okay. “I’m not going to give you much time, Sal.” Reaching down with one hand as she spoke, she pocketed the cell phone that was sitting on his desk. “You won’t be needing that.”
Under her careful watch, Sal pulled open a document on his computer. He began to type, slowly and deliberately. At the pace he was moving, it would take him all day just to write a list of names, but Jordan didn’t rush him. She looked over at Alana again, who was making some kind of sound that she couldn’t discern, and when she did, Alana screamed out.
“No—he’s got an alarm!”
Jordan jerked her head back towards Sal just in time to see his right hand move out from under the desk. He had a satisfied look on his face, and when Jordan bent down, she could see that there was a button beneath the desk. It was similar to the panic button that gas stations might put under a cashier’s counter so that the cashier can call the police without alerting the person holding the gun on them. Except Jordan didn’t think that Sal had called the police.
She didn’t know how long they had before backup arrived, but as Sal turned slowly around in his chair and smiled up at her, she could only assume that his confidence was a bad sign for them.
“Don’t look so smug,” she said, coldly. “If I shoot you dead now, all the help in the world could arrive, and it would be no good to you.”
In response, Sal reached behind him, grabbed his computer, and threw it to the ground as hard as he could, breaking it into pieces. “The only backup for the information I have is encrypted in a safe that only I can access. Shoot me and you lose all hope at finding anything out. Not to mention, shoot me, and you’re going to have a very hard time explaining yourself to the police, given that there will be evidence of my little …operation.”
Jordan hesitated. He was right, and she knew it, and she had also never shot a man in cold blood before. She had used self-defense any number of times to do a great deal of harm to someone, but to shoot someone who was not currently attacking her and who she had under control with the threat of a weapon alone—that was a different thing.
There were sounds in the distance. Cars were arriving. Cars that had to have come from nearby because Sal had only made the call a minute ago. She listened and could hear at least four different car engines. Four different sets of tires. Four cars’ worth of people was not an insignificant number of people. Even if there was only one person in each car—and why would there only be one person in each car? —she was going to be severely outnumbered. And Wes was in no position to fight. Alana was useless and untrustworthy.
“I see you have enough rational thinking capability to be worried,” Sal said, that smug expression still plastered on his face. “My estimation of you has gone up.”
“If you think I care at all about your estimation of me, you’re sadly mistaken,” Jordan said, taking a step back but still
holding the gun on him.
She didn’t care about his estimation, but now the front door of the building was opening, and she could hear people begin to enter it. Dropping the gun, she ran to the door that Alana was still crouched by, her eyes wild with fear. She locked the door and put on the chain. It wouldn’t keep them from getting in, but it would slow them down briefly.
“Alana, stand up,” Jordan said. “Get yourself together, stand up, and go out the window. Do not make me carry you. Wes—follow her.”
“I’m not leaving without you,” Wes said, standing up and pulling Alana to her feet. “You can’t take all of them on. I can hear them.” He lowered his voice. “I can hear him,” he whispered. “There are twelve people coming, Jordan.”
She could tell by the footsteps that it was a lot, but hearing that it was twelve cemented her plan in her mind. “Get her out,” Jordan whispered back to him. “I’m coming. But you have to go first.”
“You’re coming, though?”
“Go,” Jordan said, speaking to him sharply. The first wave had reached the door, and Sal was moving behind them as well. He could have a hidden weapon anywhere. “I’m serious, Wes—go. Get yourself and get Alana out the window.”
She turned away, trusting that he would do as she said, and she trained the gun back on Sal. “Sit back down,” she barked. “I haven’t not shot you yet because I’m afraid to, just so you know.”
He ignored her, walking over to the window she had broken to get in and standing in front of it before Wes and Alana could get there. “That lock won’t hold them,” he said, calm as he had been this whole time. “You’ll have to shoot me if you want to get out, or you’ll have to face them.”
Everything happened for Jordan at once. She looked over at Wes and Alana, and Wes was looking at her, his eyes asking what he should do. They were trapped, with twelve men armed with guns at the door, about to break through the lock at any moment. Sal stood between them and their only escape route, confident that Jordan had demonstrated she wouldn’t shoot him. On the floor were the remnants of the computer that had the information they wanted. And to her left, Alana and Wes were depending on her.
Jordan made eye contact with Wes. Lifting her free hand, she pulled the dried pig’s foot out from under her shirt and snapped the chain it was hanging on with one tug, discarding it. She could only hope that he would understand her message as she pushed her thoughts towards him.
I’m going to drop and roll to the left, grabbing the hard drive to that computer. When I come out of the roll, I’m going to shoot Sal in the thigh, dropping him. You will only have a few seconds to get through that window. Run for the car as fast as you can. Take Alana with you if possible. Leave her behind if it means getting yourself there. By the time you get to the car, I promise I’ll be there.
She didn’t have time to wait for a signal from him that meant he had heard her and understood. The door handle behind them was straining under the weight of strong men who were bypassing the lock by simply breaking the mechanism with brute strength. In front of her, Sal held his ground.
Jordan went into action. She dropped and rolled towards the remnants of the computer, grabbing the hard drive as she rolled past it. With it in her hand, she pulled out of the roll, aimed for Sal’s leg, and took her shot. Sal screamed when the bullet entered his thigh, and he dropped to the floor, blood pooling out around him.
“You bitch!” he shouted. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”
Jordan ignored him. She turned just as the door to the office banged open and the first wave of reinforcements moved in, guns in hand. She was a quicker shot, and as she was backing towards the window, she took aim at each man’s feet, sending shots ricocheting off the hard floor and up toward them. There was such a flurry of shots, that she could only stay a second. She ran backward towards the window, using up every bullet in the gun to ward off the oncoming forces. Several bullets zinged past her ears and one grazed her hip, causing a pain that was searing but fleeting.
“Get her! Get her and kill her!” Sal was screaming.
Jordan slipped out the window seconds before hands were on her. She dropped the gun she had been using and turned and ran for the car as fast as she could. Ahead of her, Jordan could see Wes struggling to get the car door open, and she reached for the keys in her pocket, pressing the button that would let him in. Backup forces came through the window, running after her. But she was faster. Wes yanked the door open and darted inside. Jordan followed, throwing herself into the car. She started the engine immediately. As soon as it roared to life, she shoved the car into reverse and flew backward, scattering the backup forces bearing down on her. They took several shots at her tires, and she could feel two go flat, but Jordan didn’t stop. She shifted into drive and took off through the parking lot, headed for the road ahead of them. Another bullet crashed through the back window, shattering it, but she didn’t stop for that either.
If she could just get to the road, she was safe. They would be fools to continue shooting at her once she was driving amongst other cars. Not because they cared about the safety of humanity but because any minute now they were going to draw attention from the wrong people.
When she pulled out into traffic, Jordan’s heart was hammering, her hip was aching, her tires were limp and useless, and her back windshield was gone. But Wes was beside her and the hard drive and cell phone she had stolen were on her person. She looked over at Wes as she flew through a green light, breathing hard.
“Are you all right?”
He nodded tightly, one hand gripping the passenger side door and one hand gripping the console between them. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?” Jordan demanded, scanning him even as she drove. “Your shoulder? As soon as we get somewhere safe, I’ll stop and help you with it.”
Wes shook his head. “It’s not that. I didn’t get Alana out, Jordan. She wouldn’t come with me. She was too scared. I left her behind.”
Jordan felt a lurch as she looked in the back seat for the first time and realized that there was no one there. But she didn’t have time to think about that, because as she looked behind her, she saw two cars pull out of the parking lot she had just come from and knew that the backup men were going to give chase.
Swearing under her breath, Jordan pressed down on the gas, but her car, with two tires flat, had very little get-up-and-go. So, she had to improvise. Taking a quick assessment of her surroundings, she jerked the car to the left, heading down a small side street, and shifted into park. She turned the car off and pocketed the keys, looking over at Wes.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Trust me.”
Chapter 23
Wes
There was no doubt that Alana was an unpleasant person. She was a liar, and a cheat, and a thief, and that was likely only the tip of the iceberg. She was also manipulative and narcissistic and, frankly, a little bit lazy and very cowardly.
But none of that made Wes feel any better about having left her behind. She was also the woman who he had thought he loved at one point—even though he looked back and questioned that now. And she was a person. A human being. And he had left her behind.
As he walked through the wooded area behind Jordan, following her as best he could, that was all he could think about. But he kept his mouth shut, saying nothing about it, because he knew that Jordan was tense, listening for sounds all around them. They had parked and abandoned the car, hurrying down a small set of streets until they broke out behind some buildings and crossed a stream into one of the wooded areas that existed within Baton Rouge.
He trusted Jordan, so he was following her, but he wasn’t thinking much about where they were going or what was happening around them, because all he could hear were Alana’s panicked thoughts that had whispered into his mind as he left her behind.
I’m going to die here! I can’t move—oh God, I can’t move. Someone help me! I don’t want to die—please, I don’t want to die.
Wes had left her behind.
He had tried to pull her to her feet and make her walk with him over and over again, but she was both frozen and limp with fear, and with his shoulder injured, he couldn’t carry her. When he’d listened to Jordan’s thoughts, after she had pulled off the pig’s foot, she had told him to save himself, and he had chosen to do that.
But should he have stayed? If he couldn’t get Alana out on his own, should he have stayed with her or made Jordan stop and help?
They had all been running for their lives in there. Staying would have meant risking his. It would have meant asking Jordan to risk hers. He couldn’t do that either.
But, God, he wished Alana had done something—anything—to save herself.
“Here,” Jordan said, pulling up short ahead of him. “Let’s stop here.”
They were in a slightly clearer section of the woods. They had been walking through some pretty thick forestation, but now there was some room to move around. And there was a fallen tree stretching out over the area, allowing them to sit down and lean their backs against it.
Wes sat with Jordan, and she reached over, taking his hand. He looked at her in surprise, but she pressed his fingers gently and just looked back at him. “I’m sorry.”
The words were very simple, but they had a significant impact on Wes. He leaned into her, resting his head against hers and closing his eyes. Jordan hesitated for a moment, but then she put her arms around him. Even though his body was so much bigger than hers, she held him to her, and he felt better.
“Are you doing your magic healing?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
Wes slipped his good arm around her waist and slid her onto his lap. When she looked at him in surprise, he just pulled her against him again. “Easier this way.”
She didn’t protest, sliding her arm around him and continuing to ease the pain that was radiating from his shoulder after all of the activity.
Rockwell Agency: Boxset Page 39