by Dee Davis
Annie and Adam were gone.
CHAPTER 17
I thought you were going to watch her?” Avery said, his features harsh, his expression formidable.
“I was. Hell, she was right next to me most of the night.” Nash ran a hand through his hair, pacing in front of the white board in the war room. He still couldn’t believe she was gone. That he’d been stupid enough to believe things had changed between them. “I honestly didn’t think she’d run.”
“Even after our conversation last night?”
Nash shot a glance at Drake, who was straddling a chair on the far side of the table.
“It’s all right. He knows. So does Tyler.” Avery nodded. “I haven’t told the rest of the team about the gun yet. I wanted to be sure we had hard proof that it was Annie.”
“Seems to me her running pretty much seals the deal,” Drake said with a shrug.
“Any way she could have overheard you and Avery talking?” Tyler asked.
“Shit. I didn’t even think about that.” He stopped for a moment, turning the idea over in his head. “But no. She was asleep when I came back to bed.” He’d admitted his remarkable lack of self-control. It hadn’t been his first choice, but if they were going to figure out where she’d gone, they needed all the facts. Even if they painted him an idiot. “If she’d heard me, she’d already have bolted.”
“What about surveillance?” Drake frowned. “Surely security caught something?”
“I had Hannah pull the tapes the minute Nash called,” Avery confirmed, a slide filling the screen. “This is from just beyond Nash’s backyard.” The camera panned once across the woods and then rotated slowly to cover the back of the fence. And then suddenly the screen filled with static.
“She disabled the camera,” Tyler said to no one in particular.
“Went through a broken board in the fence. Not a bad plan actually. That field leads straight to the highway.”
“But we’ve got people stationed out there,” Tyler said. “How did she get through?”
“Security got a call for backup on the east side of campus around five o’clock.”
“Was there a disturbance?” Nash asked, anger burning in his gut, adrenaline making his nerves feel like they were all firing at once.
Avery shook his head, his expression grim. “No. Turns out the call was bogus. And it traced back to a campus phone.”
“So no way to tie it to Annie,” Tyler said. “But I’m betting it was her.”
“She’s pretty damn resourceful,” Nash growled. Hell, she’d seduced him right into believing she’d changed.
“So what else have we got?” Drake said, pushing away from his chair. Obviously he was as anxious as Nash to get on with the hunt.
Avery nodded. “A car was reported stolen about a quarter mile from the far side of the woods. Owner came out early this morning to head to work. Car was gone. I’ve got people looking, but so far no sightings. It’s a black Honda CRG. 2005. New York license, ADL-4681.”
“But we don’t know for sure that it was Annie who stole it,” Tyler said, writing down the number. “And even if she did, the first thing she’d do is ditch it when she had some distance and find something new.”
“Yeah, but she’s traveling with the kid,” Nash said. “That’s got to slow things down.”
“Or make her more desperate,” Drake observed. “I mean, the truth is Annie has a hell of a lot of experience with running, not to mention staying off the radar. And the cold hard facts are that we have no idea where she’s going or what she might have planned.”
“The way I see it,” Avery said, “there are two scenarios. The first is that something spooked her. Maybe she did overhear our conversation, or maybe she was always planning to run, but if that’s her motivation, then she’s going to want to move quickly and get as far away from here as she can.”
“And the second alternative?”
Avery sighed. “We could be right about her being involved in this whole scheme somehow. Either trying to fulfill some bargain she made with the kidnapper—Dominico’s assassination or something she’s kept from us—or worse, maybe she’s in league with whoever has been pulling the strings and this whole thing is a lot uglier than we anticipated.”
“Either way, sitting here talking isn’t going to do us any good,” Nash said, sliding a clip into his gun. “We need to get out there now.”
“I agree.” Avery nodded. “Drake, I want you to follow up on the Civic. See if you can run it to ground. Hannah will handle things from here. She’s already been working with our security and local law enforcement. And, Tyler, I want you to work on other transportation options, any other stolen vehicles, airports, buses. Hell, anything that comes to mind. Jason will provide backup.”
“What about me?” Nash asked, hands fisted as he waited for orders, Drake and Tyler already heading for the door.
“I want you at Dominico’s country house. With Emmett. It’s possible the ambassador is still a target.”
“But I—” Nash started, but Avery shook his head, brushing the words aside, his expression brooking no argument.
“I need you on point with Dominico.”
“Fine, I’ll go,” Nash said. “But, Jesus, Avery, she’s got Adam with her. There’s no fucking way she’s going to kill someone else in front of her son.”
Annie jerked aside the curtains of the Sweet Rest Motel room, peering out at the almost-empty parking lot. She knew that stopping was a risk. Nash and his friends would be looking for her by now. She needed to keep moving. But Adam had been hungry. And tired. And confused.
So she’d stopped, the mother in her overriding the operative. After wolfing down three White Castle burgers, Adam had fallen asleep, and she hadn’t wanted to wake him. So instead she watched out the window, wondering how the hell she’d wound up here. Running.
She hated the idea. Had hated it the first time, too. But as in Saida, she’d been given no other option. For a brief moment, she’d been fooled into believing that Nash truly cared, that there was still a chance for them and for Adam. But after overhearing his conversation with Avery, she’d realized it had all been a fantasy.
Despite all his grand talk about having faith, he’d been playing her, believing all the time that she was in league with her kidnapper, certain that she was in some way betraying him and his precious A-Tac. It was an insane assumption, but then he had always been quick to believe the worst.
And even if somehow she’d managed to get past his betrayal, there was still the matter of Tom, another supposed ally turned enemy. It was clear that all Tom cared about was his career. And bringing in the woman who turned traitor and tried to kill an ambassador was headline-making stuff. She had no doubt that he’d use her situation to promote himself.
It’s what he’d always done.
He’d used her before, but at least then it had been mutual. He’d needed a way out of a situation gone bad, and she’d needed to disappear—to reinvent herself and build a life for the baby she carried.
She’d trusted Avery and Nash. Thought that they’d had her back. CIA taking care of CIA. But they’d made it more than clear last night that that wasn’t the case. Tom was on his way to take her back to Washington. And neither Nash nor Avery was going to lift a finger to stop him.
She’d be charged with attempted murder at best. Treason at worst. And either way, she had no doubt that they’d take Adam from her. Her little boy would be on his own. Just as she’d been all those years ago.
She closed her eyes, memories sliding past, pain raking through her. She’d managed to survive. But she wasn’t about to let the system get her son.
“Mommy?” Adam’s voice broke through her tumbling thoughts. “Are we going home now?”
“No, sweetie,” she said, coming to sit beside him on the bed. “We can’t go back there anymore. It isn’t safe. But I promise you we’re going to make a new home. And it’ll be even better than before.”
“What about th
e bad men?” Adam asked, his eyes darting toward the window. “Won’t they find us?”
“No.” Annie shook her head, praying it was the truth. “I won’t let them.”
“Can’t we make our new home with Nash?” her son asked, his eyes wide with confusion and innocence. “I thought he was your friend.”
“I thought so, too. But sometimes grown-ups make mistakes. Just like kids.”
“But he saved me.”
“Yes, he did. And I’ll always be grateful. But it’s more complicated than that.”
Adam nodded solemnly, reaching over to squeeze her hand.
“Anyway,” she said, struggling for a lighter tone, “it’s always been just you and me, right? We’re a team.”
“But I promised to help Nash find the man with the Wii.”
“I know, baby, but sometimes things happen and we have to break our promises. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
Adam frowned, but didn’t argue. He trusted her. It was there in his eyes. Her heart tightened. This was all too much for a little boy. And for the millionth time, she questioned the wisdom of running.
Behind her, the phone rang. And she whirled around, pulse pounding. It wasn’t the landline. It was the phone Rivon had given her. With shaking fingers, she picked it up, turning her back so that Adam couldn’t see her fear.
“Gallagher,” she whispered, working to keep her voice calm.
“Running was a stupid idea,” the disembodied voice said. “But all the better for me.” Annie reached for her gun, moving between Adam and the window. “I hope your son had a nice nap,” the voice continued, “because, now, it’s time for you to pay.”
“Glad you’re here,” Emmett said as they walked through the overly ornate foyer of Dominico’s country house. “The ambassador’s not the easiest man to deal with. I can use the backup.”
“How many in his security detail?”
“There’s six altogether. Three working the perimeter and three in the house. They seem like good men, but with Dominico’s tendency to roam we could use ten more—easy.”
“Where is he now?” Nash asked, taking the com unit Emmett offered.
“In the orangery.” He shook his head with a grin. “Whatever the hell that is.”
“This place is huge.” Nash followed as Emmett cut through what looked to be a ballroom of some kind. It was big enough to hold a basketball court. Upholstered velvet chairs stood like sentries against garishly floral walls.
“Makes our job so much more fun,” Emmett said. “Nothing like a game of finding Dominico. Anything new on Annie?”
“Yeah, maybe a lead. I just got off the phone with Drake, and they found the stolen Honda in a Wal-Mart parking lot. They’re interviewing employees now. If we’re lucky, maybe someone saw her. Noticed where she went. What kind of vehicle she’s in now. But it’s a hell of a long shot. A needle in a fucking haystack.”
“It just takes one mistake.” Emmett rounded the corner into a long mirrored hallway.
“Like mine.” The words were meant more for himself than for Emmett, but his friend answered anyway.
“We’ve all been there. They teach us to be cynical, to stay unattached, but sometimes even the best of us get drawn in. Hell, I believed her, too.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t sleep with her.”
“I might of if I’d had the chance.” Emmett smiled, then sobered as he glanced down at the GPS on his watch. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Dominico’s on the move,” Emmett barked into the microphone on his com-link, still staring down at the moving blip on his watch face. “Who’s supposed to be on him?”
“Me,” came the static-filled reply. “Said he was going to the can. I figured he was safe in there, but he’s gone.”
“Goddamn it.” Emmett blew out a breath, picking up the pace as he moved through the room. “Which john?”
“The one near the kitchen.”
“How could you possibly have lost him?” Emmett asked, pulling his gun now as they walked into the kitchen, the security man standing near the open door of what was clearly a bathroom.
“He asked me for a magazine,” the man said sheepishly. “When I got back, he was gone.”
“Anyone out there got him?” Emmett barked again into the microphone.
Nash pulled out his gun, motioning toward a glass door open just a crack.
Emmett nodded, signaled the security man, and the three of them, guns drawn, moved across the kitchen. Emmett waited a beat, then pulled the door open, swinging through, his Smith & Wesson at the ready. Nash followed, the security man on his heels.
“You see him?” Emmett asked, his voice just above a whisper.
Nash scanned the enormous tree-filled yard and was just about to shake his head when someone stepped out from behind a large elm tree. The man was dressed in a yellow golf sweater and green plaid pants. “That him?”
“Yeah,” Emmett said, lowering his gun as Dominico gave them a casual wave. “Asshole.” They started across the lawn as the ambassador began to make his way toward them. There was maybe ten yards separating them when something flashed in the woods behind Dominico.
“Get down,” Nash yelled, but the warning came too late. A shot rang out, and the ambassador fell to his knees. “Son of a bitch.”
Emmett and Nash moved in tandem, Emmett dropping down beside Dominico. “No pulse. He’s dead.”
Nash nodded, his eyes still on the stand of trees where he’d seen the flash. The bushes moved slightly, and he saw a shadow detach from the undergrowth. “Someone’s out there. I’m too far away for a shot. I’m going after them.”
Nash ran across the grass, using the shrubbery and trees for cover, vaulting over the hurricane fence that bordered the property. Unlike the manicured lawn, the woods were full of undergrowth, slowing his progress as he fought against entangled tree branches. There was no sign of the shooter.
“Emmett, I’ve lost him. Maybe your security guys can intercept him. I’m going to head for the place where I thought I saw someone.”
“Roger, that,” Emmett said. “I’m right behind you.”
Nash reached the stand of birch, surprised to find that the killer had left his gun. Then again, maybe it was easier to move through the trees without the encumbrance of an assault rifle. He leaned down, careful not to touch it, and felt a shock as he recognized the modified specs.
Floating barrel, 40x telescopic with laser sight. This was Annie’s gun. The one on the schematic she’d given to Rivon.
His blood ran cold as he turned slowly around the clearing, looking for something else—something to negate the image of Annie. Here. Killing Dominico.
Something glistened in the dappled light of the trees. He moved forward, his gut churning.
“What is it?” Emmett asked, coming to a stop behind him.
“There,” Nash said, anger mixing with a rush of pain so great he had to fight just to breathe, “caught in that branch. It’s a clump of hair. Red hair.”
“Adam?” Annie said, her eyes on the parking lot outside the window. Nothing moved. “Honey, I need you to move into the bathroom.”
“Is the bad man out there?” His little voice trembled as he moved to follow her instructions.
“I don’t think so. I think he was just trying to scare us. But I don’t want to take any chances,” she said, still watching for any sign of danger. “So we’re going to go out the back way. Just like we practiced.”
She’d picked the room because, unlike some of the others, it had a window in the back. She’d parked the pickup back there, too, figuring that if anything happened, it was logical to assume the attack would come from the front.
“I’m going to boost you up, and I want you to crawl through the window. Then duck down behind the truck, okay?”
“I can do it.” Adam nodded as she lifted him upward. He scrambled through the open window and dropped safely to the ground below, moving quickly to crouch behind the beat-up Ford
she’d liberated from the Wal-Mart.
Annie followed Adam through the window and crouched beside him, checking for signs that someone had seen them. Like the front, everything was quiet. But something felt off, the hair on her arms prickling as she tried to figure out what it was.
“Mommy,” Adam said, fear filling his voice as he tugged on her jacket. “I know that man. He was in the car. After the airplane.” Annie’s heart stopped as she turned to see a man in a black T-shirt standing by the ice machine, his attention focused on the front of the motel.
She was too far away to take him out. And she wasn’t about to leave Adam to get closer. Better to just get the hell out of Dodge and pray that he didn’t turn around. “Okay,” she whispered, reaching up for the truck’s door handle. “I’m going to open the door, and when I do, I want you to get inside and lie on the floor. And I want you to stay down, no matter what happens. Promise me.”
“I will.” He nodded.
She pulled the handle, and the door opened with a soft groan of protest. The guy at the ice machine didn’t move. Either he hadn’t heard the noise, or he’d written it off as nonthreatening. She motioned to Adam, and he climbed up into the cab of the truck, crouching on the floor under the dashboard.
With what she hoped was a comforting smile, she followed him in, keeping low as she slid across the bench seat and turned the key. The truck wheezed for a moment, and then the engine caught, the noise seeming deafening.
The man in the breezeway turned, his face darkening as he recognized her. Shouting out something to someone behind him, he raised his gun, shooting as Annie gunned the old Ford. The truck lurched forward as the bullet slammed into the passenger-side door.
“Adam, you okay?” She risked a look at her son, then clenched her teeth, yanking the wheel, the old truck’s tires spinning as she pulled it into a one-eighty. In the rearview mirror, she saw the guy shoot again, but they’d moved out of range. Gunning the engine, the Ford shot forward, past the motel office and onto the highway, gravel spewing.
Behind her, she could see a blue sedan pulling out of a parking lot, slowing only slightly as the man from the ice machine wrenched the door open and jumped inside. Then it sped up again, intent on pursuit.