Reluctant Burglar: A Novel
Page 25
“Roger that. Sit tight. Our next move depends on their report.”
McCluskey acknowledged the instructions, and then all was quiet from the team ringing the perimeter.
Just get me a look through those windows at what’s happening in that jet hangar, boys. And don’t get spotted while you’re at it. Al Khayr doesn’t need to know we’re here.
Tony glanced at the man next to him in the driver’s seat of the airline Jeep. The agent gave him a tense grin, teeth gleaming in the weak light of a half-moon. Their vehicle was positioned on the far side of the building next to the hangar containing Dean Webb’s jet.
Out of sight and out of the action. For now.
Tony’s skin itched. Hang tough, Desi-girl. Don’t worry about anything but staying alive.
The driver twiddled his fingers against the steering wheel. “So if they’re all shut up in the plane and we can’t swoop in there and grab them in the open, we’ll go with that idea of yours?”
“You got a better one?” Not that Tony blamed the man for being skeptical.
He shook his head. “Not me. You’re in charge here. But if my opinion is worth two cents, I think the plan’s got a strange sort of off-the-wall potential. Want to know what I’d dub the operation if I were you and had to write up a report on it and all?”
Tony shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
“Operation Red Rover. Like the kid’s game, ya know, where a bunch of them line up holding hands and dare people from the opposite team to break through.”
Tony took a closer look at the agent. Big, blond Scandinavian type. “Erickson, isn’t it?”
“Ben Erickson.”
“Glad to have you along, Ben. Operation Red Rover. Works for me. If I end up writing that report, I’ll—”
Tony’s headset squawked. “The hangar door is opening. Recon took cover around the side of the building, but we have no way of knowing if they were seen.”
Terrific! Ten minutes into the action, and we may already be blown.
“They have to tow the plane out of the hangar,” Tony said. “Let’s watch and see who’s driving that vehicle. If it’s al Khayr, we take him. Expect armed resistance, but if we get him out of the picture, we stand a good chance of talking Taylor and Webb into surrendering.”
“Got it! My guys are in good posi … Hold on, I’m getting a report from the recon boys.”
The air went dead. Tony counted the seconds. C’mon, guys. You must have a look at who’s driving by now.
“You are not going to believe this!” McCluskey swore a blue streak in Tony’s ear. “Some airport flunky just waltzed in the side door of the building right under our guys’ noses. What do you want to bet he’s going to tow the plane out of there?”
Better and better! Now we could end up with a second hostage.
The plane moved out into the night. Abu darted from window to window, cuddling his weapon like it was a treasured child.
Jacqueline Taylor sat down across from Desi and curled her lip at Abu. “Sit down, cousin. Do you think the FBI will show themselves if they’re out there? They won’t try to stop us when we have our little insurance policy along.” She motioned toward Desi.
Thanks loads, lady! Like I needed more attention from a terrorist.
Abu leveled his dead gaze on her, and Desi scrunched down in the seat. Attagirl, play small and helpless. Zero acting ability required.
The man jabbed his gun at Taylor. “You are no longer of use to us. If you want to live to enjoy your wealth, be still.”
The museum administrator pressed her lips together. Wise woman.
Abu went into the cockpit. He stood where Desi could see him, but Dean in the pilot’s seat was hidden behind the dividing wall. “How long?”
“A good hour yet for preflight check and clearance,” Dean said.
The automatic slashed the air. “Stupid son of a donkey! Did you not place us in the flight queue as soon we notified you from the museum? Is this not a less busy time for departure?”
“Yes and yes!” Dean’s voice was about an octave too high. “But this is still an international airport, not some hick flight club. What do you want me to do? Call the tower and tell them that Abu al Khayr demands special attention? And what about those other friends of yours? Are we just going to leave them?”
The gun pointed at a spot about right for Dean’s head. “If Malik were able, he would be here already We must assume the worst.” He glanced out the forward window. “We are free of the hangar. Get on the radio and invite the driver of the tow car to come inside. I believe that if our FBI friends are out there, they will try to stop him, and then we will know for sure.”
Dean’s hand appeared, then stalled over the transmitter. “Too late. That’s him driving away.”
Abu slapped the wall. “Start the engines, and get this plane into the air. Now!” He whirled and reached Desi’s seat in three strides. His fingers closed around her throat, and he lifted her inches out of the chair. Black spots pulsed behind her eyes.
“Infidel woman, if you pray to the Christian God, beg Him that your boyfriend does not try to stop us.”
Our options are getting slimmer by the second,” Tony said into the headset. “We need to line up Operation Red Rover.”
“Red what? Oh yeah!” McCluskey hooted. “Good name for it. Turns out airport maintenance had a bunch of stuff left, just like you thought. I already sent some street agents over to get the supplies while recon did their job. Just in case.”
“Good work. Put everybody on setting it up. We don’t know how much time we’ll have.”
“Got it!”
Out on the tarmac, Webb’s jet taxied toward the runways. An airliner thundered over their heads, shooting for the stars.
The driver looked at Tony. “We following?”
“Absolutely. But no lights. They’ll have to stop again and wait their turn. Just stay out of sight.”
“No problem.” The Jeep rolled forward.
Tony lifted his cell phone and punched in the number for the control tower. The chief controller answered on the first ring.
“Lucano here. All well at your end?”
“Ground control says Webb’s pushing for early clearance. We’re pretending trouble with the lights on his runway, as you asked. Uh, just a second …” The controller’s voice went distant and indistinct. “Okay, I’m back on. Maintenance called to say your guys picked up the stuff you wanted.”
“Great. Buy them as much time as you can.”
“Will do.”
Tony clenched his teeth. This wacko scheme of his better turn out to be more than just a product of his overworked imagination …
Or a blood-soaked warehouse would be the least of his nightmares.
The muffled scream of jet engines grew louder. The plane sat unmoving, but the cabin vibrated with leashed power. Like I’m being held inside the belly of a winged monster.
Desi swallowed. Her throat was swollen and sore. Why wasn’t someone stopping them? There was only one good reason she could think of.
Tony wasn’t out there.
He was busy nabbing the luckless crooks Jacqueline Taylor sent to pick up the paintings. Desi was on her own—except for God, of course. And He was going to have to come through majorly, unless He wanted to see her at the foot of His throne sooner rather than later.
Desi studied the woman across from her. The museum director’s slim legs were crossed, her pants hiked above masculine loafers worn with no socks. The gap revealed a tattoo of a rose on one ankle. Evidence of an inner rebel? Interesting but not surprising. Desi’s gaze traveled to Taylor’s face. The woman stared out the window, jaw tense, nostrils flaring with every breath.
She turned and met Desi’s look, and her mouth lifted in a sad smile. “I had hoped for a cordial relationship with you, but that hope died with Hiram.”
“You killed him.”
“I did not.” The woman’s chin came up. Her eyes burned.
“When you dra
gged an honest man into your dirty game, you as good as pulled the trigger. Did he know you were behind the theft ring? Was he trying to protect you?”
Taylor opened her mouth, then closed it. Her shoulders dropped. “Hiram thought I was being blackmailed. He tried to talk me into getting out, but …” She shrugged. “I’d never met a man like him. I didn’t understand him like I should’ve … I thought he’d adapt, even enjoy the excitement, after he tasted the thrill of the heist and the good life of wealth.” She drew a hesitant breath. “If it comforts you at all, my exile will be lonely.”
Scalding words sprang to Desi’s lips, but a sudden vision of her father’s kind face froze them on the edge of her tongue. “Daddy would have forgiven you. And God still will if you’ll ask.”
The woman’s cheeks went translucent.
“Me? I’m not there yet.” Desi shook her head. “Not even close. And right now I’d just as soon not look at you.”
Taylor’s face smoothed into a composed mask. “As you wish.” The woman rose with a regal inclination of the head and took a seat nearer the tail.
Desi closed her eyes. The museum director was a refined, intelligent woman. Daddy would have been attracted to her because of that. How long did it take for him to see her for who she really was?
Lord, give me Your perspective, or I’m liable to pluck Delilah Taylor as bald as dear old Sandy Plate.
Tony checked his watch. Only five minutes later than the last time he looked. Get with it, guys. Maybe he should go try to help them. He squeezed the change in his pocket. No. Sit tight. Wait. He’d just be a pair of hands getting in the way. If the SWAT boys couldn’t handle this, then they should turn in their badges. Right now, he could happily chew on his.
“Take Me Out to the Ball Game” started to play. Tony pulled out his cell and checked the caller ID. He groaned. What did Cooke want now? He’d been downright generous with updates to the ASAC. Well, one anyway since arriving at the airport.
“Lucano.”
“The lid just blew off this thing. Some reporter with a police scanner put two and two together from the raised terror alert, the shootout at the museum, and the buzz from the airport. You’re about to have media company.”
“Give me a break!” Give me someone to kick!
Tony got out of the Jeep and paced the grass beside the runway. “We need a few public relations honchos out here to keep them out of our hair.”
“On their way, along with the head of the JTTE He’ll assess the situation and decide where to go from here. You’ll put your squad at his disposal.”
Tony stiffened. Some impersonal third party in charge with Desi’s life on the line? Not a chance! “How long till he arrives?”
“Twenty minutes at the outside.”
“A lot can happen in twenty minutes.”
Blank air. Soft huff. “Officially I’m telling you to hold down the fort and do nothing. Unofficially? Well, I figure that nice carte blanche in your file fits this situation to a tee.” The ASAC’s voice hardened. “Just make sure the Bureau comes out smelling like a rose. Eyes will be watching.”
“How about I just make sure the bad guys are stopped and the right people stay alive? That ought to make everybody happy.”
Cooke chuckled. “Everybody but the bad guys.”
Tony smacked the phone shut. His driver was staring at him, and Tony climbed back in beside him. “Bad news, Ben. We’re about to get our ugly mugs splashed on the nightly news.”
“They are out there.” Abu’s words lashed the air.
Desi gazed up into a face scoured clean of any human warmth. A bare-bones skull would have more appeal. Threads of revulsion tangled in her middle.
“I was checking the radio news, and there it was. A crisis at the airport. Federal agents on the scene. Sooooo—” he drew the slim FBI phone from his pocket—“we will talk to the boyfriend.”
“Progress report,” Tony said into his headset.
“We’ve got the line strung across the runway, but the boys are having trouble anchoring the cable.”
“Tell them to step on it. Now or never is an understatement!”
His cell phone rang. Not again! Cooke, if you don’t know when to—
He looked at the caller ID. His heart stopped, then jumped into overdrive.
Desi!
No. He shook his head. This would be someone nasty and dangerous. Tony opened the connection. The ill-muted whine of a jet engine filled his ear. “Lucano.”
“You know me.” The voice was harsh and male.
“Yes. What do you want?”
“Withdraw and get this plane cleared for takeoff. Now!”
“Fine, if you want to taxi down a pitch-dark runway.”
“I think you will be able to fix that problem with a phone call. Do it! Or I will shoot off your woman’s knee.”
“Okay, relax. I hear you. Now let me hear her. We can’t do any business without proof she’s alive.”
A woman cried out, and Tony’s heart pounded. Just give me one shot at this lantern-jawed lowlife—
Al Khayr’s voice had grown distant. “Tell the federal agent you live.”
In Tony’s ear, heavy breaths bordered on sobs. “Desi, honey?”
“Tony?”
“Buckle up, sweetheart. You’re going for a ride. Don’t worry, I’ll be right behind you.”
“O-okay”
Al Khayr’s voice burst across the airwaves. “Are you satisfied?”
“Almost. How about I offer you a deal you can’t refuse?” Tony stopped. Let that thought tease a bit.
“Such dealings are never what they seem.”
Ah, but you’re curious, aren’t you? “Release Ms. Jacobs, and take me. FBI agent instead of a civilian? Hottest deal in town. Better grab it and run.”
Seconds ticked past. That much more time for the SWAT guys to solve their problems.
A rusty chuckle. “You hear that, Ms. Jacobs?” The terrorist drew out each syllable of Desi’s name, making it an intimate insult. “Your man wishes to trade himself for you. He is smart, but he thinks I am stupid. Release a harmless female who holds the heart of my enemy and take a trained warrior? No, Agent Lucano. No! I will not delay this flight. I will not open the door of this plane. But you will see that we are cleared, or you will hear much worse than this.”
Shots spurted from an automatic. A woman screamed. A man yelled. The phone cover cracked in Tony’s hand. Desiree?
“Stop it, you jerk!”
That was Desi—and she sounded too forceful to be shot.
Tony quit strangling the phone. “Okay. You’ve got your wishes. Your runway lights will be on shortly.”
“Make it so, or the woman pays one limb at a time.”
The connection broke off.
Tony ground his teeth. He punched the callback button. The phone rang. Then rang again. Then again. You’ll pick up. I know you will. You won’t be able to resist.
“Get back to your post.” Abu waved his gun at Dean, who stood red-faced in the passageway. “We go!”
The cell phone started to ring. Abu and Dean glared at one another; Jacqueline Taylor sobbed. Her scream echoed in Desi’s ears. Evidently Ms. Chief kept her cool except when bullets whizzed past her head.
Dean lowered his head. “You shredded one of my passenger seats. You could have compromised the air pressure with a hole in the hull.” He turned and stomped back to the cockpit.
The phone shrilled again, and Abu jerked it to his ear. “You are wasting my time and your girlfriend’s chances at life!”
Tony could almost feel the steam rolling across the airwaves. “You forgot something, Abu.”
“And what might that be, Tony?”
Tony chuckled. “So you’ve read the FBI playbook, have you?” You just don’t know how far I’ve chucked that thing out the window on this case. “The part about negotiating on a first name basis?”
A sharp hiss. “We are not negotiating. I am telling; you are doing.”
“This can be done.”
Too easy. Too slick.
“Are we through then, Tony?”
You’re laughing at me now. Be my guest. We’ll see who gets the last one. “One more thing, Abu. If Desiree is not recovered safely, there won’t be a hidey-hole on the planet where I won’t find you.”
“We stoop to personal threats now?”
“Just offering you a restful thought. Oh, and remember, we have Malik.”
“My countryman will not t—”
Tony pressed the end button. He took a deep breath. Did I buy the guys enough time? He reopened the line with his men in the field.
Jubilation flowed over the headset. “Red Rover is a go!”
“Save the party, boys. He wouldn’t take me for Desiree, so we don’t have any spare seconds. Get to your places. They’re coming at you. And God help us.”
For some, that was an empty comment, a cliché tossed out in a moment of crisis. For Tony, it was one of the most fervent prayers he’d ever uttered.
Lights flashed on in the darkness. The plane taxied forward, Lm and Abu swaggered to the copilot’s spot, hugging his weapon.
Desi’s scalp stung. The jerk had yanked her hair the whole time she spoke to Tony. To make matters worse, the back of her head still throbbed from the blow at the Webbs’, but her mind was clear. No dizziness. Would she stay steady if she needed to move fast?
Tony offered to take my place. Way to cement a relationship! Now she just had to get out of this mess so they could actually have one.
She went to work on her right hand. The plane made a turn, then began to pick up speed. Her insides squeezed. What did it matter if she got loose? They were about to take off. What was she going to do? Overpower a terrorist with the gleam in her eye?
Can’t worry about that now. Step at a time here.