Hidden Prey

by Cheyenne McCray

  His mind raced through the options and he had three choices. One, he could grab another agent and get Tori outside to the truck and risk the cartel being outside waiting for them. Two, he could keep her hidden, stay with her, and protect her in here. Or three, he could have her hide while he found out whatever he could about what had happened, who might be injured, or worse, and see if members of the cartel occupied the building.

  And pray the cartel didn’t have yet another bomb.

  His head ached and for a moment he felt dizzy. He fought to clear it. Someone had to stay with Tori to protect her, and right now that someone had to be him.

  “Get under my desk.” He didn’t know if Tori heard him over the alarm and he pointed to the kneehole as he crouched. She scooted into the space. He took his backup weapon, a small Sig Sauer, out of the holster on his ankle and handed it to her. “Know how to shoot?”

  He didn’t know if she could hear him, but she seemed to understand and shook her head. He showed her how to hold the weapon then put his lips close to her ear and spoke loud enough that he hoped she heard him clearly. “It’s fully loaded and the safety is off. Don’t point it at someone unless you intend to shoot. Keep your hand off the trigger unless you’re sure of your target. Got it?”

  She nodded and kept the weapon pointed at the floor. Her hands were trembling, the gun shaking.

  “You’ll be fine.” He squeezed her upper arm as he yelled the words. “I’ll be close.”

  Her expression hardened and he saw the same determination in her gaze he’d witnessed earlier when she’d insisted she wanted to be bait for the cartel.

  He gave her one last look before getting to his feet and drawing his Colt. He climbed over debris to the office door and peered out. He turned to his left, in the direction of the blast then to the opposite end of the hallway and back.

  The ringing in his ears started to lessen, but the blare of the alarm didn’t help. He saw movement and raised his weapon.

  Sophia Aguilar limped into the corridor from her office across the hall. She held her weapon, but pain twisted her features as she tried to walk. Her gaze met Landon’s and she hobbled to him. When she neared him, he saw blood seeped from a cut on her forehead and rolled down the side of her face.

  The alarm stopped blaring but the ringing in Landon’s ears seemed worse. He lowered his weapon but not his guard.

  “Got thrown across my office and I think my god damned leg is broken.” Aguilar gritted her teeth.

  Landon narrowed his gaze. “Sonofabitch.”

  Aguilar’s furious expression could have melted steel. “If the fucking cartel bombed us, they’ve declared war. We’re going to come down on them so damned hard they won’t know what hit them.”

  “Sure as hell.” Landon looked up and down the corridor as he spoke.

  Aguilar frowned. “How’s our witness?”

  “Uninjured so far as I could tell.” He inclined his head toward his office doorway. “She’s in my office, under the desk.”

  “I can protect her.” Aguilar nodded in the direction the explosion had come from. “Make sure no one from the cartel is in the building and help who you can.”

  Landon hesitated a fraction of a second. Aguilar was more than capable of protecting Tori, yet he felt as if he had to be the one to stay by her side.

  “Go.” Aguilar gestured her weapon. “That’s an order.”

  “I need to let Tori know you’ll be here with her.” Landon turned back into his office, stepped over the debris, and made it to his desk. He crouched near the kneehole, close to Tori’s hiding place. “Tori.” He didn’t want to startle her but raised his voice. “It’s me, so don’t shoot.”

  “Okay.” She had the Sig pointed at the floor as he peered in at her. She appeared both afraid and determined at the same time. “What’s going on?”

  “My RAC will stay with you.” He glanced at Aguilar who limped into the office. “She’ll make sure you’re safe.” He put his hand on Tori’s and squeezed. “I’ll be back as soon as I am able to.”

  “Go help who you can.” She didn’t falter. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Whatever might happen, do not come out from under the desk.”

  She nodded.

  He gave her hand one last squeeze then turned and walked to where Aguilar stood, just in front of his office door.

  “Tori knows you’re staying with her.” He gripped his weapon, ever on the watch as he spoke. “She has my Sig, so don’t surprise her.”

  “She’ll be fine.” Aguilar gave Landon a firm nod before he left the office.

  “I’ll get some paramedics here to help you,” Landon said.

  Aguilar shook her head. “Not until those seriously wounded are taken care of. All I have is a fucking broken leg. I’m not losing blood and I don’t have any other injuries. Get the hell out of here and do your job.”

  Landed nodded. He held his Colt in a two-handed grip as he headed down the corridor in the direction of the blast. He stepped over debris and peered around corners before continuing. Two agents, helping injured personnel, passed him in the hallway. The men were drenched as if they’d been outside and they left dirty wet footprints in the hallway. No doubt the blast had taken out part of the building, leaving it open to the elements.

  Next came Dylan, also soaked, who supported another agent named Conway, who seemed pretty banged up and dazed. “There are more injured.” Dylan’s wet skin had split along his cheekbone, blood mingling with water as the cut bled down the side of his face. He had small cuts all over his face and arms—it looked as though he’d been hit with shattered glass. His expression turned grim. “I think we may have lost a couple of agents and administrative staff.”

  Landon cursed and gripped his weapon tighter. “Where did the bomb detonate?”

  “Near the holding cells.” Dylan glanced up and down the corridor, as did Landon, both men continually on guard. “Graves and Perez were in there. I don’t know if they’re dead or if they managed to escape.”

  “Shit.” Landon clenched his teeth.

  Dylan looked past Landon. “Where’s the witness?”

  “In my office.” Landon cocked his head in the direction he’d just come from. “With Aguilar, who’s injured. She thinks her leg is broken.”

  “Damn. At least they’re both alive.” Dylan shifted to get a better hold on Conway. “I’m going to get Conway out of here then check on Tori and Aguilar.”

  “Thanks.” Landon gave Dylan a nod before he continued down the hall.

  The farther Landon went, the worse the destruction. He passed other agents and administrative personnel assisting individuals who had sustained significant injuries.

  As he approached the corridor to the holding cells, he saw the door ajar and water seeping through the opening. Dirty puddles from footprints crossed the floor, leading away from the door.

  A gust of wind slammed the door open and rain pelted onto the floor at the opening. He moved to the doorway and had to squint to see through the downpour.

  Where once a roof and walls made up an office, a gaping hole filled with rubble had replaced it. The storm muted the light.

  The parking lot was a good distance away and Landon couldn’t see if anything else had been damaged.

  Thank God no fire had accompanied the explosion.

  Still gripping his Colt, Landon climbed over support beams, concrete, twisted pieces of metal, and glass. Sirens blared, louder now that he stood outside. He glanced in the direction of the highway and saw emergency vehicles turning onto the road leading to the DHS office. Red and blue lights flashed, reflecting off wet surfaces.

  As Landon looked around him, he saw a male figure half buried in the rubble, face turned away. Landon climbed over debris toward the figure. His stomach clenched when he saw the remains of the man’s upper torso and head, the face unrecognizable.

  Fury burned Landon’s skin, but he continued on. He would be fooling himself to hope no others had suffered similar fates,
yet prayed no one had. He hurried the best he could toward the still intact corridor where the holding cells were. The door, a twisted mess, hung on one hinge and swung in the wind. No doubt the door could go flying at any minute.

  He climbed over debris to get to the door. He checked the hinge and saw only one screw held it in place. He hit the door with his good shoulder and the door broke away from the hinge and landed harmlessly on rubble. Still, the impact jarred his other shoulder and he gritted his teeth.

  Rain had been pouring in through the open doorway and into the hallway and water covered the floor.

  He saw the holding cells were open and strode toward them. He narrowed his gaze when he saw the cells. Fuck.

  Graves and Perez were dead. The cartel had been there to take care of loose ends.

  Moans came from farther down the hallway and Landon headed in that direction, still holding his weapon and making sure none of the cartel’s men were nearby.

  Tori never left Landon’s thoughts as he helped the injured out of the building, through the storm and into the hands of emergency personnel who had arrived.

  He knew Tori was in capable hands. Aguilar had set records as a sharpshooter when she’d trained at FLETC, so she could more than hold her own.

  Dylan met up with Landon a good twenty minutes after Landon had passed him and Conway in the hallway. Dylan had stopped by Landon’s office before he’d returned to the blast zone to assist. He’d told Landon that, when he’d checked, Aguilar’s only serious injury was the broken leg and she refused to acknowledge any pain she might be feeling. She’d insisted she would watch over Tori and had reiterated she didn’t need medical attention. Those seriously injured needed aid first.

  Landon had done all he could at the moment and he intended to return to his office, where Tori and Aguilar waited. The wind and rain had never stopped buffeting the men and women working the scene.

  His head seemed to ache even more from the blast and the debris that had landed on him in his office. His shoulder burned and hurt like a son of a bitch and it had started bleeding again, enough that the blood wet his T-shirt and spotted his overshirt.

  A paramedic noticed Landon holding his shoulder as he trudged toward the door that would open up into the hallway.

  “Hold on.” The female paramedic tried to stop Landon. “Let me check your shoulder.”

  Landon gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I’ll be fine, but the Resident Agent in Charge is inside. If everyone in serious condition is taken care of, per her instructions, she needs medical attention.”

  The paramedic signaled her partner and in moments they were hurrying toward Landon’s office. Water ran in rivulets down his face and arms and onto the floor as he walked to the open doorway leading to the corridor. His steps quickened, heading to his office. He needed to see Tori, needed to see her safe.

  He entered his office first and his heart nearly stopped.

  Aguilar lay on the floor, blood soaking her shirt. Her chest rose and fell with rapid, harsh breaths. Her hand pressed a piece of bloody cloth over her abdomen.

  Blood soaked almost all of the cloth, but the edges were the same color of blue as Tori’s shirt.

  Heart pounding hard enough to feel as if it were hitting his ribcage, Landon turned to the paramedics. “Take care of Special Agent Aguilar.” His voice tightened. “I need to check on someone else.”

  The paramedics were on Aguilar before he’d finished speaking and Landon hurried to the desk where Tori should be hidden.

  Before he had a chance to look, he saw his Sig resting on the floor. Chest squeezing with fear for Tori, Landon looked under the desk.

  His heart nearly stopped.

  Tori was gone.

  Tori lay curled up on the floor of a van, her hands and feet bound with duct tape and a piece of the tape covering her mouth. Cold and wet, her body prickled with icy fear as men laughed and spoke in Spanish. Thanks to her mother she spoke, read, and understood the language fluently.

  Their words caused terror to clench her belly and grip her heart.

  They intended to take her to Diego Jimenez’s compound in Mexico. The head of the cartel had decided to make her pay in ways other than death.

  God, no doubt death would be better than anything they might do to her.

  Someone kicked her in the back and laughed and she gave an involuntary muffled cry as pain lanced her body, especially her chest. Her eyes watered and a tear rolled down the side of her face.

  She should have stayed hidden, like Landon had ordered her to.

  But she’d had to go to try to help the agent.

  After a man had shot Special Agent Aguilar, Tori waited until certain the man had left. She’d crawled out of the kneehole, scrambled over debris and had gone to the agent to try and stop the bleeding. She hadn’t seen any cloth around, so she’d torn off part of her shirt, like she’d done for Landon. She’d pressed the cloth to the agent’s wound, her hands almost immediately covered in blood.

  She’d been just about to take off her whole shirt to use when a man had come by the office and peered in. Tori had raised her head to ask for help when terror had blocked a scream in her throat. The man had his gun pointed at her. She didn’t recognize him, but he’d clearly recognized her.

  She hadn’t been able to run. She’d been trapped in the office. In that instant, she had prayed for Landon to return, but he hadn’t. There had been no way to save herself.

  The man had yanked her by her hair, dragging her to the doorway and forcing her to her feet. He’d taken her by gunpoint from the room, the gun digging into the small of her back. They’d gone out into the storm and the chaos and no one had noticed.

  No one.

  Her head still ached from being dragged by her hair. The man had pressed the barrel so hard against her back he’d almost certainly bruised her skin. She had bruises on her face and body from the men kicking her and backhanding her. It hurt to breathe and she likely had a broken rib.

  Far worse than the pain in her head and chest, and the bruises all over her body, was the fact she’d been kidnapped. These men intended to take her across the line, into Mexico.

  If they got her out of the U.S., there would be no hope for her. The U.S. government would do nothing—she’d just be one more person who’d been abducted into Mexico like so many others.

  Tears squeezed from her eyes. What if they sold her to human traffickers? Would she become a sex slave? The very real and frightening possibility tightened her chest and made her feel ill, as if she might throw up behind the duct tape. She’d drown in her own vomit.

  More tears rolled from her eyes. What could she do, bound and gagged and surrounded by determined men?

  Pray.

  She looked at the duct tape binding her wrists in front of her. The rain hadn’t washed away all of Special Agent Aguilar’s blood from her hands and it remained around her fingernails as well as having stained the remnants of her shirt. She prayed too that the agent would survive. She had a lot to pray for, including Landon’s safety.

  Landon. Her heart squeezed. If her kidnappers got her across the line, she’d never see him again. She hadn’t known him for long, but she knew one thing. She’d fallen in love with him. She had truly fallen in love with a man for the first and only time in her life. Now that she had experienced true love, she knew what she’d felt for Gregory had been infatuation while he’d treated her well. Before things had changed.

  Landon had killed her brother, but it had been in the line of duty. Maybe it was screwed up, but she loved Landon with everything she had.

  Her heart swelled with the emotion but ached at the fact that how she felt wouldn’t matter if she ended up in the cartel’s compound.

  Yet, somehow it did matter, even though she may have seen Landon for the last time. The saying was true…she would rather have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

  Even though six men surrounded her, all of whom were likely hardened criminals and murderers, sh
e still held out hope of escape before they crossed the line into Mexico.

  Somehow, some way, she would make it.

  Chapter 25

  The morning dawned crisp and bright. Diego smiled, truly pleased for the first time since the woman had witnessed Alejandro murdering the federal agent. Yes, he’d thought she’d died in the explosion and had been furious yesterday morning to find out she’d somehow escaped.

  Now that his men had her and had crossed the line into Mexico last night, he had no more concerns about Alejandro being arrested and prosecuted by the Americans. Any time now, when they arrived, he would see the woman for himself and he would determine what her destiny would be.

  The bugs planted in various agents’ offices had worked perfectly. Alejandro had arranged for two members of the federal office’s cleaning staff to be blackmailed. If they didn’t plant the bugs, their families would die.

  Diego whistled as he walked through his exquisite home, morning sunshine pouring in through tall arched windows. He paused and looked outside at the preparations.

  An event planner and her staff, along with his own employees, were working tirelessly to prepare for his granddaughter’s party later this evening. It would take place outside where a wide stone staircase swept down to the grounds below.

  A stage had been built for a live band and two enormous tents had been erected on a portion of the expansive lawn. Workers had spread a dance floor beneath one tent. The other tent stretched over table after table with many chairs. White slipcovers with large pink bows decorated the chairs. The staff had covered tables with fine linen cloths with floral arrangements at the center of each round. Lovely cut-crystal glasses glittered in the light on tabletops. His people had purchased the expensive china serving pieces and polished silver flatware, just for this special event.

  Flowers in pots and vases were arranged in brilliant displays and balloons in light pink, dark pink, and white hung from every corner and the center of both tents.

  Balloons and ribbons decorated an archway at the top of the stairs. Angelina would walk through the archway and with her court she would be presented to the guests.