by Cynthia Eden
“Absolutely.” Hell, no. Authorities are about to swarm you, and when you pull a gun on them, they’ll kill you. “I’m on my way to meet you now. You’ll hear my boat coming.” Bullshit. He’d hear the cops.
A relieved rush of air filled the line. “Thank you. You...you’re the only one who ever understood me.”
Oh, I understand you plenty.
“I was so alone when you left. It hurt. It was like someone took a part of me and tossed it away.”
Not yet, but I will.
“It was her fault.” Anger snarled then, escaping in Jason’s tight voice. “Samantha Dark. I know you said she didn’t, but—”
“Samantha is not the enemy.” He made sure his voice was flat. “She’s someone to be protected. She’s on our side. How many times do I have to tell you that? She isn’t coming to hurt you. When you see Samantha, it’s because she’s there to help. Don’t turn the gun on her. Don’t even think about that move. Focus on Gamble. He’s the threat.”
More silence. Damn it.
“But...you’ll be here before they are, right?” Jason asked, nearly mumbling.
“I’m trying to get there as fast as I can.” The water gleamed. Sunlight trickled across the sky. “It’s just that, if they beat me there, I want you prepared. I want you safe.” Inspiration hit him. “I want you to repeat these words after me, okay, Jason?”
“Okay...”
“Bass must die.”
“Bass must die.”
“Gamble must die.”
“Gamble must die.”
Excitement had quickened in Jason’s words, just as Cameron had suspected it would. Getting him to repeat those words...that was incorporating Jason’s own MO into the situation.
But the dumbass didn’t even realize...
It’s the victim who repeats the words.
You’re the victim here, Jason. You never should have gone after Sam.
He hung up the phone and stared at the sun. The dark would fade soon.
If Jason followed his orders, more problems would be eliminated. Yet something nagged at Cameron. What if...at the last moment, the bastard turns and goes after Samantha again?
What was he going to do if she died?
* * *
JUSTIN BASS PULLED at the ropes that bound his wrists. The drug was still in his system, making his muscles tremble. He hated the weakness, but there was nothing he could do about it.
The door creaked open, and he froze, lying on his side on that old, rotten floor. Wooden floor...floor that just happened to have a sharp edge. An edge he’d been sawing his ropes against for the last hour. The ropes hadn’t cut—at least, not all the way. He’d felt some of the hemp give, so at least he wasn’t bound as tightly as he’d been.
“It stinks in here.” That was the punk’s voice. High, excited. Yeah, it stinks because I puked my guts out on this floor.
The wood groaned beneath the jerk’s feet. “I came to set you free.”
Because he was supposed to believe that pile of shit? Not likely, but Justin lifted his face up.
The young guy stood in the doorway. His right hand was behind his body.
Are you hiding a weapon, kid?
“Doesn’t seem fair, though,” the blond muttered. “When I just got you.” The guy took a step toward him.
Bass’s body went stiff, and he knew the punk was about to kill him. Probably a slice to the throat or a stab to his heart. And it would be all over. Justin rolled his body, moving so that his wrists were hidden behind him, and he jerked with all of his might against the weakened ropes. “Where’s the other guy?” He had to talk and keep talking in order to distract the perp and buy time.
“Other...guy?”
“Yeah.” Justin tilted back his head. “The one calling the shots.”
Red stained the punk’s cheeks. “I’m calling the shots. I’m the one with power.”
“Lie,” he said flatly. “You’re just the one he’s left to go down for this mess. You’re his fall boy. Nothing more, nothing less. The guy set you up so he could escape clean.” Another hard yank of his wrists. He could feel that hemp sliding, tearing. “That’s why he’s nowhere near here, right? He thinks the cavalry is coming to find me, and they are.” They’d better be. “But when they get here, you’ll go down. Not him.”
The guy’s hand jerked up—and, sure enough, he was gripping a knife. “You don’t know what you’re fucking saying! Dr. Latham...I mean, Cameron is my friend!”
Justin knew exactly what he was saying. And he knew how to keep working the little bastard. Everything he’d needed had been in that one name. Dr. Latham. “Cameron Latham? You think that bastard is your friend?” His laughter was weak, mostly because he still felt weak. “That psycho is just using you. He’s just—”
The knife was at his throat. “That’s not what you say.” He felt the prick of the blade on his skin. “That’s the wrong thing to say!”
He barely breathed. “Then tell me...the right thing...to say.”
The guy smiled at him. “I will. Because that’s the way it works. I always get you to share a story right before I set you free.”
He’s fucking insane.
But the knife wasn’t at Justin’s throat any longer, so he figured that was good. The blond kept the knife in his right hand even as his left fished a phone out of his pocket. He touched the screen and aimed the phone’s camera toward Justin. “This is what you say... Listen carefully, and then you’re going to repeat after me...”
Asshole.
“Did you hear what I said?” the guy yelled at him. “You’re going to repeat after me—”
He was trying to hold the knife and the phone. A mistake. And the ropes around Justin’s wrists...they’d just given way.
“I heard you.” Justin smiled at him. “I just don’t give a shit.”
The punk’s eyes flared wide. He fumbled, the phone dropped—and Justin flew at him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE AIRBOAT FLEW over the water, moving so fast that Samantha’s hair whipped against her face. They were surging through a tunnel of tall grass, skimming right over the surface of the water. No way could one of the Coast Guard’s boats have made the trip—the water in the Delta would never have been deep enough for them.
The boat vibrated beneath her, sending her bouncing a bit on the seat. Up ahead, a medium-sized alligator slipped through the water, its tail cutting out behind it. The boat veered a sharp left, heading for the location they’d mapped out with the coordinates provided by the FBI. There were a few old cabins up that way; she’d seen them before. Places that were sometimes used by local fishermen. Places that would be perfect for hiding a victim.
Was Justin Bass still alive? She thought so. She hoped so. But when Jason Burke saw them coming, she knew the guy would panic. Jail wouldn’t be an option that he’d considered.
He’d grown up privileged. Living in a cage for the rest of his life—no way would that be the ending he’d pictured for himself.
Tommy killed the airboat’s powerful fan. “Got the first cabin coming up to the right.”
And there it sat, faded wood, boarded-up windows, perched on stilts in the water.
“Looks quiet,” Josh said.
Blake nodded. “Get us closer to check it out.” He was already pulling out his weapon. When they got closer, he jumped from the boat and splashed into the water.
* * *
THE BASTARD HAD stabbed him. Shit. The pain pulsed through Justin even as the blood pumped down his chest. He lunged after the little SOB, but his ankles were still bound, and he slammed into the floor.
“That’s not how it works!” the guy yelled at him. “This isn’t right!’
Justin grabbed for the ropes around his feet. He jerked at
the knots.
And the fucker drove the knife into his back. He roared at the pain. His hand flew back, and he tried to grab the knife, but it sliced right over his palm, cutting deep. Then over his wrist, and the blood sprayed.
But he kept fighting. The perp wasn’t used to that. You don’t give the women a chance to fight back, do you? Justin knocked the knife out of the attacker’s hand, and the blond let out a scream as he scrambled back.
Justin hurt. Blood was everywhere, and when he tried to yank at the stubborn ropes, his blood-soaked fingers just slid around uselessly.
Footsteps thundered away from him. His hand snapped up. The guy was fleeing. Oh, hell, no. He stretched out and swiped up the dropped knife. It fell out of his fingers once, but he grabbed it again and cut through his ropes. On his second attempt—maybe third?—Justin made it to his feet. He lurched toward the door.
“Cameron warned me...” the bastard cried out.
A gunshot blasted.
It took Justin a moment to feel the burn of the wound, a wound in his stomach. He looked down at his body, even as the knife fell from his fingers.
“Said I had to be careful with you...” Another gunshot. This one hit Justin dead in the chest. “And with Agent Gamble.”
* * *
BLAKE WAS RUNNING back to the boat when he heard the thunder of gunshots. The little fishing cabin behind him had been empty, but now—thanks to the blasts—they knew where their prey was. But he’s shooting, so we may be too fucking late to save Bass. He and Josh jumped in the boat with the others. “Follow those shots!” Blake snarled at the airboat captain.
The fan kicked on, and the boat shot forward, barreling fast as it flew over the water. He kept his gun gripped tightly in his hand and his gaze was on the shore. Up ahead, he saw two more cabins. Just as small as the first one they’d searched. With faded wood, slanted roofs, small, twisted piers coming out of them.
And...
A man was there, staggering out of the cabin. Falling. Trying to crawl toward them.
Fuck me, that’s Bass.
The boat hadn’t even stopped before Blake jumped from it. Samantha and Josh were with him. He saw that they both had their weapons drawn. He heard Lewis’s voice barking behind him as the guy gave orders on his phone for their air backup. And, up ahead...
He saw Bass. Crawling on the ground. But behind Bass, coming out of that little cabin—
“Shooter!” Blake roared.
He aimed his weapon, but the bastard had already grabbed Bass. It was a blond male, young, and in the dawn light he could clearly see that he was staring at Jason Burke. The guy looked exactly like his college picture.
Only right then, the preppy college kid was covered in dirt and blood and he had a gun pressed to Bass’s head. “Everyone stop!” Jason yelled. “Or I blast his brains out right here!”
Blood soaked the front of Bass’s shirt. His eyes were sagging, his face chalk white.
Blake stilled. Samantha and Josh had stopped, Samantha to his left, Josh to his right. Blake glanced back and threw up his hand, making sure that the local authorities who’d come with them also froze. He didn’t want some trigger-happy fool screwing this scene to hell and back. Then he glanced toward the perp.
“I’m supposed to kill you,” Jason said.
He was staring right at Blake.
“You kill him,” Samantha said, her voice ringing out, strong and cold, “and my bullet will be in your brain the next second.”
Jason flinched.
“You don’t want that, do you?” she pushed. “You don’t want to die. That isn’t what all of this is about.”
The gun Jason gripped moved a bit, a tiny fraction, but it was still far too close to Bass’s head. And Bass—it was obvious the guy was long past the point of fighting. He was on his knees, his upper body only upright because Jason had one arm locked around his neck.
One arm around his neck, the other hand holding the gun to Bass’s head.
Blake didn’t have a clear shot at the perp. He needed the guy to move back a little from Bass. Just a little more.
“I know what you want,” Samantha said.
“You don’t know anything about me!” Jason screamed.
“Sure I do.” She kept talking in that calm voice, and Blake knew she was trying to distract the perp.
Josh took one slow step to the right.
“You’re smart,” Samantha said, and she sounded almost admiring. “You have to be to get away with what you’ve done. You want the world to know about how clever you are, right? Well, come with us, and they will know. Put down the gun and surrender, and I can get five reporters ready to meet us when we get back to town. They will all hear your story.”
Jason’s head jerked toward Blake. “But I...I was supposed to kill you.”
“Says who?” Blake snarled. The voices in your freaking head?
“My friend.” And Jason’s shoulders stiffened. “He’s here. He’ll have...my back.”
Shit, he’d better not have just told them that Latham was out there. Because as they stood in front of the cabin, there was no cover at all. If Latham was out there, the guy would be able to pick them off. He could fire at any moment.
Jason nodded again. “Yes, he’ll have my back... Said so...”
And right then, Blake heard a distant roar.
A wide smile split Jason’s face. “He’s coming! That’s him. That’s his boat.”
“Drop the gun,” Blake ordered.
Jason’s smile slipped. “I have to kill you. He said so. You die.” He looked at Bass. “He dies. You both die. Then—”
“Then you take the fall for everything,” Samantha called out. “Don’t you see that? Cameron is setting you up. He wants you to take their lives so that you’re the one who goes down. Only, he isn’t planning for you to go to jail. He knows that the instant you fire here...you’re a dead man.”
Jason shook his head. The gun moved another tiny centimeter away from Bass’s head. Bass’s body sagged more, and Jason seemed to struggle to hold him upright.
“You’re expendable to him.” Samantha’s tone had turned berating. Angry. “Not worth Cameron’s time. You imitated his work, and you thought that would flatter him? Wrong. It just pissed him off, and now he wants you gone.”
“No, no! He is my friend.”
“Cameron is no one’s friend. I don’t think he has that capacity. He’s a user, a manipulator, and he’s manipulating you. He wants Bass dead. He wants Agent Gamble dead. You’re the means to that end.” She took a step forward.
“Samantha...” Blake snarled.
She put down her gun. “We don’t have to let Cameron control us. We can be free of him. We can stop playing by his rules.”
She’d put down her gun. She’d put down her fucking gun and made a target of herself.
“Stand down,” Blake barked at her. “Now, Samantha.”
She took another step forward. “The gun isn’t even the weapon you like. I can see the knife wounds on Bass. That’s the weapon you like.”
Jason nodded. “Dr. Latham told me I’d need the gun... He was right.”
“He said to get the gun because he knew that when the FBI agents spotted it, you’d be a dead man. But he was wrong about them, you see. Because these agents don’t just go out and start shooting. They’re good men. Fair. They will give you a chance if you drop your weapon.” She lifted her hand toward him. “Come with me now. Don’t play Cameron’s game any longer.”
Silence. Taut. Dangerous.
And...he saw the change in Jason’s face. The tightness. The flare of anger. “He was wrong.”
“Yes,” Josh called out, speaking for the first time since the standoff began. “Dead wrong.” Josh still had his weapon aimed at Jason.
&nb
sp; “Wrong about you,” Jason whispered as he stared at Samantha. “You aren’t on his side. I don’t... I don’t think you ever were...”
And Blake knew the guy was going to fire even as Jason let go of Bass.
Not firing at the executive assistant director. Jason is going for the target he wanted all along. The woman he blamed for taking Cameron Latham away from him.
Jason jerked his gun up and aimed it at Samantha. Blake was already flying forward. He tackled her, shoving Samantha to the ground, and fired his weapon even as he felt a burn across his arm. He trapped Samantha against the ground, covering her completely. He prepared to shoot again, but—
Bam! Bam!
Josh beat him to the fucking punch.
The bullets flew into Jason Burke’s chest, and the guy jerked back, like a puppet on a string. He rammed into the side of the little cabin and stared with wide, shocked eyes at Blake.
Then he fell, slumping sideways.
Josh rushed toward Bass.
Blake lifted his body up, staring down at Samantha. “What in the hell was that?” Anger cut through him. “You just made yourself a target! You just—”
“I bought Bass time to live.” She glared up at him.
“And you almost died.” He jumped to his feet and pulled her up beside him. His hands flew over her. No injuries, thank Christ. He yanked her close. “This isn’t over.” If she thought she’d get to risk herself...oh, hell, no.
The distant roar they’d heard before was louder—Jason had mistakenly thought it was a boat’s motor, but now the sound was a distinctive whoop, whoop, whoop—the helicopter that Lewis had called, coming in to give medical support.
Support that was desperately needed.
Blake and Samantha ran to Bass’s side. There was blood everywhere—streaming from slices on the EAD’s body and pouring from what looked like two bullet wounds. Samantha bent to help Josh as he tended to the other man, and Blake moved toward Jason Burke. Jason was slumped face-first on the ground, and Josh had already kicked the guy’s gun far away.
Blake put his hand on the perp’s throat, searching for a pulse.
“Coming...for you...”