by Pamela Clare
A man in an FBI SWAT uniform burst through the door. “Sir, there’s a helo inbound and headed straight for the hotel.”
Zach met Darcangelo’s gaze, neither of them saying a word.
So, Andris and Tower had gone through with it.
No surprise there.
“What? I didn’t hear—” Dixon was cut off by the thrum of a helicopter flying overhead. He glared at Irving. “You need to rein in your guys.”
Irving pulled himself up to his full height. “Cobra doesn’t report to me. If you want to rein them in, call the fucking Pentagon!”
“Goddamn private contractors! What’s their plan? Are they at least going to pull Hunter off that roof?”
“How would I know?” Irving asked.
Zach glanced at his watch. “I need to head out.”
He left Dixon and Irving to bicker, Darcangelo following him out the door.
“Good luck, McBride.” Darcangelo held out his hand, and they shook.
In the distance, the Little Bird lifted off the top of the hotel and disappeared.
“You two, wait!” Irving called after them.
Uh-oh.
Irving strode over to them, clearly pissed as hell. “Did you know about this?”
Zach looked at Darcangelo, then back at Irving. “Define ‘know.’”
“Jesus.” Irving turned to Darcangelo, got right in his face. “Did you have knowledge beforehand that Cobra planned to defy the FBI and head up to the rooftop of the hotel with a goddamn helo?”
Darcangelo opened his mouth to answer.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Irving cut him off. “Never mind. I guess the less I know, the better.”
In the distance came the thrum of a helo’s rotors—not a Little Bird, but something much bigger. A Blackhawk came into view from the northeast.
“It’s about damned time,” Darcangelo muttered.
The Hostage Rescue Team had finally arrived.
* * *
21:05
Holly sat in the nearest chair and rubbed her temple, her head throbbing.
Nearby, Moreno was talking on his cell phone with the FBI negotiator, who had called to tell him US Marshals were on their way to get his cousin.
Reece was working his way toward her, his movements casual, as if he were simply tired of standing around.
Holly wasn’t sure whether she should thank him for the reprieve or smack him upside the head. Moreno had intended to rape her—that was obvious—but she’d been trained to deal with that possibility. A woman had a lot of power over a man whose penis and testicles were hanging out. With any luck, she might have been able to neutralize the bastard, cutting the head off this little viper and leaving his men leaderless.
Not that she hadn’t been scared. Moreno was a sociopath. He would probably enjoy hurting her or even killing her. But she wasn’t going to let her fear keep her from doing whatever she could to get her friends out of this alive.
Moreno had his back to her now, shouting into the phone. “No one is going anywhere until I get both my cousin and that thirty-five million!”
Reece came to stand behind her, spoke quietly. “He’ll kill you, Holly.”
A frisson of fear shot through her. “Let me worry about me, okay?”
“How’s your head.”
“It hurts.” But that didn’t matter right now. “Kat’s in labor.”
“Jesus.”
“What do you mean ‘show of faith’?” Moreno shouted. “I let you take the wounded and dead. I have given you something. What have you given me?”
The man was volatile and more than a little drunk on power.
He turned and looked straight at Holly. “She is well, I assure you. She stays.”
The FBI was trying to get her out, but Moreno wouldn’t have it.
And Holly knew he wasn’t done with her.
“What is her name?” He began craning his neck, as if looking for someone. He lowered the phone. “Bring me Kat James.”
Holly found herself on her feet, headache forgotten.
One by one, the newspaper’s staff turned to look at the back corner—everyone but Joaquin, whose jaw was set, his eyes hard, his gaze fixed on Moreno.
“What do you want with her?” he asked.
But Moreno saw her now.
So did Holly.
She lay on her side, breathing through a contraction, her eyes closed.
Sophie stood. “She can’t walk or answer right now. She’s having a contraction.”
“Then I guess she cannot leave.”
“I’ll carry her.” Joaquin walked back to the corner, lifted Kat into his arms.
One of Moreno’s men spoke to his boss, Holly recognizing only a few words: jefe, indios, Navaja.
Joaquin crossed the room, stopping a few yards away from Moreno. “She needs to go to a hospital.”
“I can stand now,” Kat said.
Joaquin lowered her gently, keeping an arm around her shoulders.
Phone still held to his ear, Moreno studied Kat, then pointed to Joaquin. “Is he your husband?”
Kat shook her head, her face flushed, one hand pressed against her belly. “My husband isn’t here.”
“I remember.” Moreno’s expression changed, a subtle shift that sent a pulse of warning up Holly’s spine. “Your husband must be the paramedic, yes?”
Kat’s chin went up. “Yes.”
Moreno walked a few paces and spoke into the phone once more, his lips curving into a hard smile. “She stays.”
A collective gasp filled the room.
“What?” Joaquin took a step toward Moreno, began cursing at him in Spanish.
But Moreno turned his back on them all. “Tell her husband that her suffering is on his head.”
Kat slumped against Joaquin, another contraction starting.
Holly turned away, sure her rage would show on her face. Reece stood there, fists clenched, helpless fury in his eyes. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Next time he tries to drag me away, don’t stop him.”
* * *
21:18
Tessa rocked little Addy, who’d woken up crying with a fever and earache. Laura Nilsson was on the screen, the sound down low. Tessa had given Addy some children’s Tylenol and wrapped her in a lap quilt to keep her warm.
The four-year-old looked up at her through big blue eyes, little tears on her flushed cheeks. “I want Mommy.”
God, what was Tessa supposed to say?
She stroked Addy’s silky strawberry-blond hair. “I know, sweetie.”
Up on the screen, Laura was reporting that the wounded who’d been evacuated from the Palace were expected to recover.
Thank God.
“Where’s my Hoppy?”
Tessa glanced around, found him on the sofa. Hoppy was Addy’s stuffed bunny. A little worse for the wear, he’d recently been stitched up and bravely wore a Disney princess Band-Aid on one foot.
“Hoppy is right here.” She reached for him, tucked him inside the blanket with Addy, and went back to rocking.
Her cell phone buzzed.
Julian.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. Any news?”
“Kat has gone into labor, and the bastard won’t let her go.”
“What?” Tessa’s stomach knotted. “How far along is she?”
“She’s at least a month early from what I’ve heard.”
Damn it!
“Why wouldn’t he let her go?”
“Because he’s a fucking murdering asshole who needs a bullet through his …” Julian drew a breath. “I’m sorry. I just ... ”
“You don’t have to apologize.” She’d been hoping Moreno would catch a bullet from the moment she’d heard he’d struck Kara.
“How are things there? Are the kids still asleep?”
“Addy woke up with a fever. I think she has an ear infection. I’ve given her some children’s Tylenol. I guess I’ll take her to our pediatrician tomorrow if ... ”
“Ah, hell. The poor little thing. I’m sorry. We’ll get Hunter and Sophie out. Andris and Tower are inside with Hunter now. They called in to say he’s okay.”
Thank God for that.
“Are they going to be working with you all?” Tessa wanted to ask what their plan was to rescue everyone, but she knew he couldn’t tell her.
“I’m not sure yet. I’m hoping they can help us figure out what we’re facing—how many men, what kind of explosives, that sort of thing. The text messages I translated kept referring to a Christmas present in the basement. We need to find out what it is and whether it poses any threat to the hostages. How the hell they got all of this shit inside the hotel is anyone’s guess.”
“The tunnels.” Tessa’s heart skipped a beat. “I bet they came in through the tunnels.”
Silence.
“Tunnels?”
“I wrote an article about them a long time ago, part of a ‘Secrets of Denver’ series.” Tessa tried to remember the details. “There are two—a more modern one that dates to Prohibition that was used to move booze and coal into the hotel. It connects to the State Capitol building somehow. There’s also an older one that was once used by hotel patrons to get to a brothel that was across the street without being seen.”
“Jesus! How did you find out about them?”
“An old security guard at the Capitol told me. I’m sure not the only reporter who’s written about them. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone looking into the hotel’s history to find out about them.”
“God, I love you.” He sounded better now, energized. “HRT is here. We’re about ready to go into a briefing.”
Her stomach sank, and she knew now why he’d called. “You’re going in.”
“I’ve gotten a tentative okay to join HRT.”
“Oh.” She tried to keep it light, not wanting to burden him with her fears and her emotions, not when he needed his mind focused on his job.
It felt like everyone she loved was in mortal peril tonight.
“If it were the two of us in there—”
“You don’t need to explain. I understand.”
“You are my life, Tessa. I’m going to do everything I can to get out alive and bring everyone else with me. I’ll be working with the best of the best. I hope that gives you some peace of mind.”
It didn’t, not really. But she didn’t say that.
“I know you’ll do everything you can.” Tessa fought back her tears. She wouldn’t send him off with sorrow. “I love you, Julian.”
His voice was soft. “I love you, too.”
They disconnected without saying goodbye.
She fought back a sob, not wanting to wake the sick little girl in her arms.
God, watch over him. Watch over them all.
* * *
21:45
Julian stood in the back of the command center while Supervisory Special Agent Matt DeLuca, HRT’s commander, introduced the team to Dixon and Irving. “SA Jake Evers, SA Sawyer Vance, SA Clay Bauer, SA Adam Blackwell, SA Ethan Cruz, SA Nathan Schroder. That guy is SA Brad Tucker, leader of Blue Team.”
Tucker waved. “Call me ‘Tuck.’”
The men acknowledged Dixon, Irving, and Julian with a nod or a wave of the hand, most of them wearing a day’s growth of stubble on their jaws. All were former special operations forces—Navy SEALs, Delta Force, Marines Special Operations, Army Rangers, Green Berets—and together constituted the best-trained counterterrorist group inside the United States.
Julian felt a flash of savage satisfaction at what lay ahead for Moreno.
DeLuca crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter, a row of computers behind him, viewscreens above his head. “We’ve just come from an operation in Louisiana, but we’ve been getting regular updates from SA Dixon. We understand you’ve got something new.”
Chief Irving nodded. “This is Detective Julian Darcangelo. I stole him from the Bureau a few years back. He used to work deep cover on child sex trafficking cases. He learned something you’ll find interesting.”
Julian stepped forward and pointed a remote at the big viewscreen on the back wall, where a street map of the neighborhood surrounding the Palace Hotel appeared.
“Moreno and his men got weapons and ordinance inside through a tunnel built back in 1922 to help move coal and contraband into the hotel. The tunnel is lighted and leads directly to the hotel’s basement.” Julian pointed to another screen, where a live feed from a street cam was running. “This shows Sherman Street in front of the State Capitol. Moreno and his men gained entry to the tunnel by posing as a repair crew and going in through a manhole. This is live. As you can see, he left a crew in place.
“They’re probably there to cover his escape,” Bauer said.
“Has anyone approached them?” DeLuca asked.
Irving shook his head. “We didn’t want to give away the fact that we’re onto the tunnel. And here’s why.”
Julian pushed a button on the remote, and a new image appeared on the screen. “There’s an older tunnel that was built in the 1880s for hotel patrons who wanted to visit the brothel across the street without being seen.”
“Illegal booze and brothels,” Tucker said in a southern drawl. “Classy hotel.”
“That brothel is now a bank. As you can see, that tunnel runs parallel to the main one. It’s still there, though it’s been sealed off on both ends. From what we’ve been able to learn, it’s possible to access it through the crawl space beneath the bank.”
“That’s good work, detective,” DeLuca said.
“Thank my wife,” Julian said. “She’s an investigative reporter.”
“What’s this we heard about guys on the inside?” Evers asked.
“My SWAT captain, Marc Hunter, was at a Christmas party with his wife in the hotel when the shooting started,” Irving said. “He got away and took out four men on the roof who were setting up a Browning M2. They also had a Russian RPG-7.”
Low whistles.
“Damn!” someone said.
“Hunter’s still inside, together with two men from Cobra.”
“How did Cobra come into this?” DeLuca asked.
Dixon got to his feet.
Jesus, could he give it a rest?
“They took an MH-6 to the rooftop in defiance of my orders, sir. I told them to stand down but—"
Julian cut him off. “The wife of one of their operatives is a hostage and was reportedly wounded in the initial firefight. She’s an operative herself. Her special skill involves gathering intel through close personal contact. We don’t know how badly injured she is, but she could be a resource for us.”
Tuck snorted. “You know what this tells me?”
“What, man?” Evers asked.
“Moreno took the wrong damn bunch hostage.”
DeLuca nodded. “So we have four people on the inside.”
“Five,” Irving answered. “The fifth is a former park ranger whose wife is also a hostage. She’s pregnant and has gone into premature labor. Dixon tried to negotiate her release, but Moreno refused to let her go.”
The men’s expressions turned dark.
“Sick son of a bitch,” DeLuca muttered under his breath, his brow folding in a frown. “I say we work with the Cobra guys and your SWAT captain, Irving. Have we established coms with any of them?”
Dixon nodded. “They are patched into our system.”
“Have they gotten eyes on this ‘Christmas present’ in the basement?”
Julian shook his head. “No, sir, but we’re assuming it’s explosives—Moreno’s insurance plan in case we try to mount a rescue.”
One touch of a button, and the hotel could be blown to bits.
Tucker stepped forward, pointed to the older tunnel. “We could take Blue Team in here to locate and neutralize the ‘Christmas present’ and any tangos we find, while the Cobra team gathers intel on Moreno and his men—numbers, how t
hey’re deployed, any booby traps and so on.”
Julian liked this idea. “Hunter counted at least twenty-four men working in teams of four or five. He and Rossiter have taken seven out of play—five on the rooftop and two in the loading dock. We’ve got their cell phones and have been answering their text messages, so Moreno doesn’t know they’re dead.”
“Clever,” Cruz said. “But sooner or later, he’s going to find the bodies.”
Julian nodded. “Either that, or he’ll want to talk to one of them in person. When he figures it out, he might assume a rescue is underway and start killing people.”
For a moment, no one spoke, the magnitude of the situation clear. But this was what they’d all trained for—Denver SWAT, FBI SWAT, HRT.
“We’ve got a bad situation here with a lot of lives at stake, including our Secretary of State and an unborn baby. What we don’t have is time,” DeLuca said, making eye contact with each member of Blue Team. “I want a rescue plan in place in fifteen minutes.”
10
Chapter Ten
21:54
Tessa sat on the couch, doing her best to answer Tuck’s questions over the phone, stroking Addy’s hair, her heart breaking for the little girl. “Yes, sir, I toured them in person. I entered the newer tunnel through the basement of the State Capitol building.”
“Were there side tunnels or other entrances along the way?”
“Not that I can recall. There were a lot of rats. We walked in what seemed like a straight line, stopping at a door that opened into the hotel’s basement. They said it was just below the Grand Ballroom. There was a staircase that went up from there.”
“That’s very helpful,” Tuck’s tone of voice was soothing, his southern drawl comforting. “Did you enter the other tunnel, the older one?”
“No. It was more like a dirt tunnel, like a mine shaft. There were no electric lights. Some of the wooden supports were rotten, and they didn’t think it was safe.” After seeing the rats, Tessa had been pretty sure the older tunnel held even worse things and hadn’t even asked to enter.
“Were you able to look into the older tunnel while standing in the other one?”