Imminent Danger (A Counterstrike Novel Book 3)

by Jannine Gallant

  “My guess is he’ll show up wherever they’re holding Otto. He acted on his own when he saw me, so he’s the one giving orders, not taking them.”

  “I hope so. I want another chance at the bastard.” GQ slowed for a red light before darting through the intersection after two cars crossed the street. “We’re about ten minutes back of Patch and Luna.”

  “You might want to hurry.” Luna’s voice came through their headsets. “We crossed the bridge into Queens. It looks like the van is headed toward the railyards. There’s no traffic to speak of this time of night, but we’re still keeping them in sight.”

  “Shit. They can’t be holding the boy in the yards, so he must be in the van.” GQ’s tone was flat.

  Brody’s chest ached. “The railyards would be a good place to dump a body.” He stayed silent while GQ floored the gas through a second red light. “I hope to God I didn’t get that child murdered.”

  “They wouldn’t have killed him prior to the drop, and I doubt they’d do it in a moving vehicle when they can wait until they get to their destination.”

  “Let’s hope. What’s going on, Luna?”

  “The van turned down a side street. From this point, we’ll need to go in on foot to stay concealed.” Doors shut, and the sound of running footsteps against pavement followed her comment.

  “Any sign of the white Ford?”

  “Not yet,” Patch answered, his voice low.

  “I activated the tracking device on my phone.” Luna also spoke quietly, her breathing coming in a regular rhythm. “You can use that to find us when you get here.”

  “Five minutes unless a cop spots us.” GQ ran another light, and a cabbie coming from the opposite direction laid on his horn.

  Brody checked the tracking device on his phone and zeroed in on the moving red dot. “If you see Otto alive, don’t wait. Take out the targets holding him.”

  “Damn straight.” Patch’s tone was decisive. “The van is parked about twenty yards away. No movement from inside yet. We’ll get as close as possible and hope for a visual on the boy.”

  “10-4.”

  The tires hummed as they crossed the bridge over the Hudson. Brody narrowed his gaze on a white vehicle some distance ahead. A Toyota, not the car the shooter had left in.

  “What’s the plan when we get there?” GQ slowed slightly as they neared the end of the bridge.

  Brody used his phone’s app to survey the area where Luna’s red dot had stopped moving. “Looks like there are dozens of spare Amtrak cars parked in the yard. “If you can get an angle through the windshield of the van from the top of one of them, you may be able to identify the boy using your scope. The kidnappers must be waiting on someone or they would have exited the vehicle by now.”

  “My guess is they’re expecting the vagrant from the park bench.”

  Brody nodded. “Probably.”

  “He just arrived.” Patch spoke in a whisper. “Two men in a Ford Focus. I can pick them off when they leave their vehicle.”

  “Have you seen Otto yet?” Brody asked.

  “Someone just got out of the van, but he doesn’t have the boy with him.”

  “Then we need these assholes alive for the moment. If Otto is secured elsewhere and we eliminate all the targets, we may never find him.”

  GQ parked in front of a parts store just down the block from the Counterstrike SUV. He grabbed the case containing his rifle from the backseat, and they shut the doors quietly. At the end of the street, the railyards seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with Amtrak cars lined in rows. Nearing the tracks, they turned right in the direction of Luna’s signal.

  “Try to circle around to the East,” Brody spoke quietly. “We’re about a hundred yards from the target.”

  With a nod, GQ jogged away while Brody continued straight ahead, staying in the shadow of the railway cars. The glow of city lights illuminated the terrain enough to make out the bulk of the van and a smaller car parked next to it. The drone of voices became audible, one sharp and demanding, while the second had a sullen edge. He moved in closer until he could distinguish the words.

  “I didn’t sign up to shoot a kid. You said—”

  “That was before I knew Counterstrike was involved. There won’t be a payday now, but I can damn well send a message to those assholes.” The man from the park issued the final statement.

  His reluctant partner sounded younger, and his fidgeting movements indicated a lack of experience. Brody could just make out a bulky figure in the driver’s seat of the white car that partially blocked his view of the two men. He had to assume there was a fourth kidnapper inside the van with Otto. He couldn’t risk the man putting a bullet in the boy’s head if they started shooting now. They needed to wait until these bastards brought the boy out into the open.

  “If I’m not getting paid, you shoot him.” The young delinquent’s voice held a definite whine. “Are you planning to leave the body here?”

  “I’d like to drop it on Grant’s doorstep.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Never mind. Tell Niko to bring out the boy. Let’s get this done.”

  Brody stiffened. The fact that this scum knew his name sent a rivulet of cold sweat down his spine.

  “I can take out both the punk and the one inside when he exits the van.” GQ spoke through his headset.

  “I’ve got an angle on the driver of the car,” Patch responded.

  “I don’t have a clean shot at the man in charge.” Brody frowned as the asshole moved deeper into the shadows while his accomplice walked toward the van. “I’ll need a minute to get into position.”

  “I don’t have a shot, either,” Luna whispered. “I’m afraid they’ll hear me if I move, but I’m close enough to go in and grab the boy after the bullets start flying.”

  “I’ll take him out, one way or the other.” Brody crouched low and edged out of hiding with his weapon drawn, keeping the rear of the white car between him and his target.

  When the door to the van opened with a thud, he crawled around the bumper and sighted down his barrel at the dark figure. If the freak moved three inches to the right, he’d have a head shot . . .

  Wrenching sobs were muffled by the hood over the child’s head as a short, scrawny man pushed him out of the van. He fell to the ground and curled into a ball.

  “Want me to finish him off.” The newcomer drew his weapon and pointed it at the boy, while the youngest member of the group skipped out of the line of fire. “I’m sick to death of listening to him bawl.”

  A shot echoed. The man referred to as Niko jerked backward, falling into the van as GQ’s bullet hit him square in the chest. Two more shots cracked nearly simultaneously, echoing in the night, but Brody didn’t wait to see if they’d hit their targets. The scumbag leader was on the move, sprinting between the Amtrak cars, his gait uneven as he disappeared from sight.

  His shoes pounded the packed dirt as he ran after the man. Brody caught a glimpse of movement every now and then until the sound of his quarry’s footsteps stopped completely. He paused, his heart beating overtime as he listened for any slight noise that would tip off the bastard’s location.

  In the distance, sirens wailed, drawing closer. Not far away, the faint clatter of a stone against metal sent him spinning around. A thump followed.

  He raced down the rails, squeezed through a space between two cars, and glanced both ways. In the next row over, a figure was outlined by the city lights, running awkwardly along the top of the train cars a good fifty yards down the line. Brody drew his revolver and sighted on his target just as the man dropped over the edge and hit the ground with a thud.

  “Damn it!” He ran full out to the end of the line and rounded the final car, only to stop dead.

  A complex of buildings and equipment stood a short distance from the tracks. There was no sign of the kidnapper. He could be hiding anywhere in the maze of sheds, huge spools of cable, and parked utility vehicles.

  “We have Otto bac
k at the SUV. The cops are probably about a minute away.”

  “God dammit!” Luna’s voice in his earpiece forced him to make a decision. “My man is lying low, and there’s too much real estate to search. He’ll slip out before I have a prayer of finding him. Leave before the police arrive and notify the Zellers their son is safe. Once I’m clear of the perimeter the police set up around the carnage, I’ll call for pickup.”

  “I’ll find an all-night diner in the area and wait for you,” GQ responded. “Go, Wolf. Three cruisers just raced past us one block over. Since I don’t feel like spending the night in jail while they sort through this mess, I’m out of here.”

  “I’ll be in touch.” Brody turned off his headset, holstered his weapon, and took off running away from the center of action as police cars arrived on the scene. Spotlights lit up the railyard behind him with powerful beams. Within a few minutes, he was far beyond their scope.

  A text from GQ a short time later gave him a destination. Slowing his pace when he reached the street, he avoided patrol cars until he arrived at the diner where his teammate was waiting. GQ made eye contact through the plate glass window, took a final drink from a coffee cup, tossed a couple of bills on the table, and headed for the door.

  Brody leaned against the bumper of the sporty rental car and waited. “Any issues?” he asked as his friend hurried toward him.

  “None. Patch and Luna are on their way out to Long Island with the boy.”

  When GQ popped the locks, Brody pulled open the Porsche’s door and slid onto the seat. “Otto wasn’t harmed?”

  “Not physically. The poor kid was clearly traumatized and wouldn’t speak, but he seemed comfortable with Luna and was clinging to her when I took off. She’s good with young kids.” GQ’s tone held a hint of admiration as he started the engine and pulled onto the street.

  “Then despite the fact I lost that asshole between the railcars, I guess we can chalk this mission up as a success.”

  “I’m sorry I took the shot before you had an angle on him, but when that freak aimed at Otto, I was afraid to wait.”

  “The leader is a cautious son of a bitch, always staying in the shadows. I’ll say that for him.” Brody hesitated a moment. “He knew me by name.”

  GQ glanced his way, and his eyes widened. “Holy hell.”

  “Yeah.” He leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes. “I’ve seen him before, but I’m nearly certain he looks different now. I’ve been trying to place him and haven’t been able to. What about the other three men?”

  “All dead. Luna took photos and said she’d run a facial recognition scan. My guess is she’ll have answers before the cops do.”

  “I’ll call my FBI contact in the morning and fill him in on what went down tonight. He can interface with the local authorities and keep Counterstrike out of it.”

  “That will certainly simplify everything.”

  Opening his eyes, Brody stared straight ahead as they drove through the city streets, back toward their Midtown hotel. An urgent need to get out of Manhattan and back home churned in his gut, even though he knew the whole team was exhausted.

  “As soon as Patch and Luna return from Long Island, I’ll drive the Suburban back to Boston. Sparrow can fly the rest of you home in the morning.”

  GQ gave him a thoughtful look as he stopped at a red light. “I thought Patch was driving the SUV back?”

  “I’ll do it. If I leave within the hour, I’ll be home before dawn.”

  “Rest not being an issue?” His tone was ironic.

  “I wouldn’t be able to sleep, anyway, not as amped up as I feel.”

  GQ pulled up in front of the Waldorf and grabbed his rifle case off the backseat while Brody lifted out the bag of money. He handed the keys over to the elderly valet attendant, along with a tip. “The rental agency will be picking the car up in the morning.”

  The man flashed a broad smile when he looked at the bill. “Thank you, sir. Have a good night.”

  Brody followed his friend through the huge lobby, mostly empty at this hour of the morning, to the bank of elevators and pressed the button. The doors opened with a soft whoosh, and they stepped into the marble-lined enclosure.

  When they reached their floor, Brody gave GQ a wave and headed toward his room. “I’ll see you when you get back tomorrow.”

  “Sure. Have some coffee or an energy drink before you leave. Once the adrenaline wears off, you’re going to crash.”

  “Not when I can’t stop picturing that bastard’s face.” He pulled his keycard from his pocket and slid it into the lock. “Good night, GQ.”

  “Night, Wolf.”

  Brody shut the door behind him and dropped the money bag on the carpet. He kicked off his shoes on the way to the bathroom, texted Luna to call when they arrived at the hotel, and then shed his clothes. After a quick shower, he dressed and dropped a coffee pod into the Keurig machine, setting the brew to strong. He’d downed a single cup when his phone rang.

  He didn’t bother with a greeting. “You out front?”

  “We will be in two minutes,” Luna answered. “What’s the hurry to leave tonight?”

  He let out a breath and ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Just a feeling. Give the keys to the attendant, and I’ll be right down.”

  “Sure. Have a safe trip home, Wolf.”

  “See you tomorrow.” He disconnected, grabbed his overnight bag and the duffle filled with cash, and left the room. Fifteen minutes later, he was on his way out of the city. The face of the kidnapper preyed on his mind as he tried to make the connection. Was the man someone he’d seen on a previous job, or a person he’d interacted with before Counterstrike? Someone who knew him as Brody Grant before he became Wolf.

  He’d just crossed the state line into Connecticut when his phone rang. The number that popped up on the screen was Luna’s. Frowning, he touched to connect. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, but I was too jittery to sleep so I ran the three men from the scene through a facial recognition database.”

  He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “And?”

  “The young punk wasn’t in it, but the other two were. Niko Resta and Basil Falier were both known associates of Demitri Thanos. In fact, Resta was his cousin. Maybe the man who got away took over the operation after Thanos drowned.”

  A mug shot of Thanos when he was in his early twenties, the only photo he’d ever seen of the man, flashed through his mind. He’d been busted for drunk and disorderly in a fight outside a bar. The man on the park bench was over two decades older, and the scar was new. But the surly attitude and eyes were the same.

  A chill shivered through him. He pressed harder on the gas, and the big vehicle surged ahead. “I don’t think he did.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, the asshole tonight didn’t replace Thanos. He is Thanos. Thanos didn’t die in Tamarack Lake. Somehow, he made it out alive and is back in business.”

  “Arden?” Luna’s voice rose. “Do you think he’ll go after her again?”

  “I don’t know what to think, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ll drive straight through to Vermont after a quick stop to drop the money at headquarters and grab some clean clothes.”

  “Do what you need to do, Wolf. We’ve got you covered at Counterstrike.”

  “I know you do. Thanks, Luna. I’ll be in touch.”

  He disconnected and stepped even harder on the accelerator, watching the needle creep toward ninety. It was going to be a long night.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Arden gripped the back of the chair and took shallow breaths through her mouth, determined to hold down her breakfast. Not that she’d eaten much, only a yogurt and a piece of toast. When the queasiness let up, she continued toward the door. She had no idea where she’d picked up a stomach bug, but she wished to hell it would work its way out of her system. Maybe at the grocery store on Saturday. The little girl in line in front of her had
been coughing without covering her mouth, and the baby the girl’s mother was holding had been fussy and looked miserable. At the time, she’d felt sorry for all three of them.

  Now she felt sorry for herself.

  The fresh spring air gave her a boost of energy she’d been lacking lately. Closing her eyes, she turned her face up to the sun, enjoying the warm rays. In their outside coop, the chickens clucked, and bees buzzed over the patch of wild strawberries growing behind the shed, providing a constant background drone on a perfect May day.

  Strolling around the house, she approached her favorite flat stone on the shore of the lake and sat to stretch her legs out in front of her. Water lapped at the rocky beach in a soothing cadence, while nearby, Hero and Heidi wandered aimlessly, sniffing new scents. Her surroundings were peaceful and beautiful, but every time she looked out over the lake, she wondered if the depths still harbored Thanos’s body.

  Sheriff Underwood had given up the search two weeks after the ice melted, declaring he didn’t have the manpower or funds to continue dragging the lake or searching the banks of the creek that eventually ran into the Missisquoi River. In his opinion, the body had probably washed downstream and had likely been consumed by a pack of coyotes, hungry after the heavy winter snows.

  She shuddered just thinking about it.

  When her phone rang, her brows shot up. Apparently, she was in a good spot for service. Pulling her cell out of the pocket of her jeans, she checked the screen and mentally kicked herself for being disappointed it wasn’t Brody. He’d texted a couple of times the first week after he’d left, but her brief responses had obviously conveyed the message she hadn’t changed her mind. It had been nearly two months since they’d communicated.

  Not that she was counting the days.

  Dismissing the pointless thoughts, she answered her phone. “Hi Ellie. What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re cancelling our Tuesday tea.”

  “No. I’m coming early and wanted to make sure you were home. I have carpet cleaners showing up later this afternoon. They changed the appointment time on me.”