by L. T. Ryan
She looked up at me, wiped her eyes. “Robbie’s dad?”
I nodded at her, then turned my attention to my estranged wife. “Is she…?”
The woman shook her head. “No, she’s alive. Just heavily drugged.”
“Where’s Cal?”
She pointed at the ladder. “He went upstairs. But he locked the hatch and turned on the gas.” She broke down again. “You gotta get her out of here now. If he gets to the house, he’ll seal up the tunnel and you’ll never make it out.”
“He won’t get to his bedroom.”
“No, you can’t think like that. He’s more dangerous than you realize.”
“Let him.”
She shook her head. “He’ll have more at the house by the time he gets there, and they’ll kill anyone in their way.”
I looked back, not wanting to think about what that meant.
“Yes,” the woman said. “Even Robbie.”
I approached her, stepping over Marissa. The pole was bolted into the floor and ceiling. I gave it a few tugs. It didn’t move.
“Just go.”
“Not a chance.” I reached down and hooked my hands under Marissa’s armpits and dragged her out of the way. Then I backed up to the wall. The running start would give me more momentum. I hustled forward and delivered a kick to the pole. It didn’t budge.
My throat and lungs burned. Face started itching. I coughed.
“It’s filling up with gas,” she said. “You won’t make it back if you don’t go now.”
“I can’t leave you here.”
“I’m just gonna go to sleep. It’ll take an hour before I die.”
“How do you know this? You a freaking chemist?”
“No, but I live in his house. I know all about what he has in place in here. I’ll just be asleep for a while. Get her out, then send someone back for me.”
I watched her for several seconds. The steel resolve on her face never wavered.
“Okay.” I picked Marissa up and over my shoulder. “What’s your name?”
“Molly.”
“Molly, I’ll have someone down here soon. You hang tight.”
She closed her eyes and nodded before erupting into a coughing fit.
I felt my own lungs spasming a bit. Time was running out. We were all gonna be on the floor asleep soon. Moving as fast as I could on legs that got heavier by the second, I traversed the tunnel. By the time I reached the end, I could barely stand. But I was almost there. Just had to get up the ladder. But my hand slipped off before I made it to the second rung and I collapsed on the floor with Marissa half on top of me. The same way she used to lay in bed with me.
38
I blinked my eyes open and was greeted with the nastiest headache I ever had. It topped the worst hangover of my life. It topped getting shot, knocked out, run over. And I was grateful for it. Because with every pulsing pain I felt, I knew I was alive. And I had my son back.
Someone squeezed my hand. I glanced around, but couldn’t see anything beyond the halo of light above my face. They leaned in. My eyes adjusted to see Bridget hovering over me.
“How’re you feeling?” Her smile couldn’t hide her concern.
“Been better. Been worse. Where’s my son?”
“He’s fine. He’s entertaining six officers right now.”
“That’s my boy.” I swallowed what little saliva I could produce. My throat ached. My mouth felt like it had been coated in metal. “What about Marissa?”
Bridget took her time composing her answer. “She’s alive. I don’t know if it was the gas, or if something had happened to her, but she was talking crazy, not making sense. They had to sedate her and they are moving her for a psych eval.”
“Hope she fails.” I tried to smile, but I don’t think it came across. Then I felt a pang of fear. Not for myself, or Robbie, or Marissa. But the woman who had risked it all to save the latter two. “What happened to Molly? Did you get her out in time? She said it would take...”
The look on Bridget’s face was enough to stop me. “I’m sorry, Mitch. By the time the team made it down to her, she was gone.”
“If you can’t find someone somewhere that loves her, make sure she gets the funeral she deserves. She saved my boy. She tried to save my ex. No matter what led her here, she was a good woman.”
Bridget squeezed my hand and assured me she would.
“At least tell me we got Cal.”
“We didn’t. No way to sugarcoat that. But he won’t get far.”
“I want to know when they find him, Bridge. I want to be there.” I winced as I swallowed. Bridget handed me a glass of water. After taking a few sips, I asked her, “What about the others? The sisters?”
“Liliana and Emilia? Booked for kidnapping here. Murder in Vegas. They’re going away for a long time.”
“I guess that video helped Howerton, huh?”
Bridget nodded. “Yes! Holy crap, they uncovered a few people on the hotel’s security staff that were involved. See, that’s what I mean. Cal isn’t getting away. The net is tightening. He has nowhere to go.”
“Knock, knock.” Braxton filled the doorway. He had a grin on his face. “How you feeling, Tanner?”
“Pretty good, considering.”
“I bet.” He looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Someone’s been itching to see you.”
Robbie burst into the room, smiles galore. He hopped up on the bed and hugged me. “I missed you, Daddy.”
“I missed you too, buddy.”
He leaned in and whispered. “Don’t tell anyone this, but I miss my sister, too.”
I couldn’t fight the tears anymore. “She misses you too, Robbie. She misses you. And my momma misses you. And Sam misses you. And, hell, everyone misses you, but they don’t have to anymore, because you’re coming home with me.”
A doctor entered the room and cleared his throat to get our attention.
“Happy tears, I hope,” he said.
I wiped my eyes. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, Mr. Tanner, all your tests are fine. There’s no permanent damage from the agent you inhaled. They got you out of that room in time.”
“That mean I can leave?”
“Yes, Mr. Tanner, it does.”
They cleared the room while I changed. Robbie jumped on me from the side when I stepped into the hallway. We took our time heading down to the lobby. I had Robbie on one arm. And every so often, Bridget’s fingers grazed mine. Maybe it was the chemical agent still working, but it felt electrifying when she did.
We reached the main entrance. The doors slid open. I stopped and said, “Hey, take Robbie. Gotta say goodbye to someone.”
Bridget gave me a quizzical look, but took Robbie’s hand and led him into the cold.
I walked up to the receptionist, who didn’t even look up as she stared at her computer.
“You ever take a break?”
“Oh, Detective, how are you tonight?”
“I was admitted.”
“I know. And now you’re leaving. Must be a good day. Lots of folks who enter here never leave.” She held her hardened look for a few seconds more before breaking into a smile. “Glad you survived your trip. Heading back to Philly now?”
I glanced over my shoulder at Bridget and Robbie and found I couldn’t answer the question. “We’ll have to see.”
I met Bridget by her car. Robbie was buckled in inside. Braxton had taken off already.
“He said goodbye,” she said. “And if you are ever in town, don’t look him up.” She grinned, but I think he really meant it.
“Probably should get the boy back to his family in Philadelphia.”
“Yeah, I guess you should.” She leaned against the door. The moon poked through racing, wispy clouds and reflected in her eyes.
“Wish I had more time here. Feel like the moment I step on that plane, I’m gonna go back to missing you.”
“Well, I’d say the same, but I won’t.”
“Ouch. You rea
lly know how to make a fella feel good, you know.”
Her smile reappeared and spread wide across on her face.
“What?” I questioned her.
“There’s something I haven’t told you.”
“What?”
“I put in for a transfer.”
“Oh yeah? To where?”
“Philadelphia. And it just got approved.”
39
The rust colored Chevy pickup was parked at an angle in front of a dive bar in an otherwise empty parking lot. It had taken a while for something to pop up on the radar. But this truck did, somewhere outside of Reno, Nevada.
The first patrolman tailed it from a distance and arranged a handoff. This continued all the way to San Diego. And now to this border town.
When the plates were run, it was determined that the truck had been registered in Colorado to Spotlight Security. It wasn’t long before we had visual confirmation of Cal Stokes. They watched as he went through the process of securing a passport to get him over the border. For whatever reason, he kept the same piece of shit truck. Or maybe he was going to meet someone at this bar and swap with them.
But it didn’t matter. He wasn’t getting out of here a free man.
“It’s time,” I said.
“Okay, Mitch. Now, listen. I put my neck on the chopping block to get you rights to bring him out. He has to come out in cuffs, not a body bag. You got it?”
“Huh? You know I don’t listen, Bridge.”
“Yeah, I do know. That’s why your dirty laundry is always on our bathroom floor.”
“Our? Your name on the deed.”
“Maybe you should sneak out the backdoor. You definitely aren’t going to have a pleasant experience dealing with me tonight.”
I stepped in front of her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and pulled her against me. We kissed under the blazing hot sun, surrounded by a team of twenty agents and two different SWAT teams. A few catcalled. Others whistled or clapped. Bridget punched me in the gut and told me to go do my job.
So I did.
I adjusted my vest and racked my pistol’s slide.
“No body bags,” she called out.
I shrugged. The guy might not give me a choice.
I walked into the bar, which was empty except for the bartender and a man perched atop a stool.
“Cal Stokes.”
The guy didn’t move. The bartender looked up at me, down at my gun, lifted his hands and backed away to the other end of the bar.
“Just keep your hands where I can see them, guy.”
He nodded.
“Cal, we can do this the easy way or hard way. What’s it gonna be?”
He turned slowly on his stool. One hand out. The other hidden inside his denim jacket.
“Have to ask you to remove your hand there, Cal.”
“Or what? You gonna shoot me, man? You can’t just do that. You’re the good guy.”
“I’m definitely not a good guy. Now put your hand where I can see it.”
Cal stood, took a couple of steps toward me. I held my ground. Squeezed my index finger and took the slack out of the trigger.
“You afraid yet?” he said.
“Me? Of you?” I looked at him like the trash he was. “Not a chance.”
“Ever killed a man before?”
I didn’t answer him. None of his business. He was just trying to distract me, anyway.
Cal took two more steps. We were six feet apart.
“Gonna ask you for the last time to remove your hand.”
“Or what?”
“Three. Two.”
“Okay, okay.” He flashed a smile. Kept his hand hidden.
“One.”
The smile faded. With lightning quickness, he pulled his hand out. I didn’t wait to see what he was holding. A single shot to the center of his chest rendered the point moot.
The team rushed in, pulled me aside. The medics went to work on Cal, but it was too late. I turned and found Bridget.
“What’s he holding?”
“It doesn’t matter,” she said.
“You’re right. It doesn’t. But it’s all over now.”
She took my hand and led me outside.
A few hours later, after grabbing a few brews and tacos from a stand, we found a shady spot, and started planning a new life together.
The End
Mitch Tanner’s story continues soon in book four. Sign up below for L.T. Ryan’s newsletter for updates..
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Also by L.T. Ryan
Click on a series name or title for more information
The Jack Noble Series
The Recruit (free)
The First Deception (Prequel 1)
Noble Beginnings
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Thin Line
Noble Intentions
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Noble Retribution
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Never Go Home
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Deadline
End Game
Noble Ultimatum
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Blowback
Take Down
Deep State
Rachel Hatch Series
Drift
Downburst
Fever Burn
Smoke Signal
Firewalk
Whitewater
Aftershock
Whirlwind
Mitch Tanner Series
The Depth of Darkness
Into The Darkness
Deliver Us From Darkness
Cassie Quinn Series
Path of Bones
Whisper of Bones
Symphony of Bones
Etched in Shadow (September 2021)
Blake Brier Series
Unmasked
Unleashed (January 2021)
Untitled (April 2021)
Affliction Z Series
Affliction Z: Patient Zero
Affliction Z: Abandoned Hope
Affliction Z: Descended in Blood
Affliction Z : Fractured Part 1
Affliction Z: Fractured Part 2 (Fall 2021)
About the Author
L.T. Ryan is a USA Today and international bestselling author. The new age of publishing offered L.T. the opportunity to blend his passions for creating, marketing, and technology to reach audiences with his popular Jack Noble series.
Living in central Virginia with his wife, the youngest of his three daughters, and the
ir three dogs, L.T. enjoys staring out his window at the trees and mountains while he should be writing, as well as reading, hiking, running, and playing with gadgets. See what he’s up to at http://ltryan.com.
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