Gabe (In the Company of Snipers Book 8)

by Winters, Irish

  Gabe retrieved a card from his wallet and handed it to Zack. “It’s nearly off the grid, and it’s still got that new home smell. Dogs are welcome.”

  Zack’s brows lifted. “Sweet, but are you sure? This could get ugly.”

  “No problem. Haven’t even put in a change of address with Mother yet.”

  “How’d you do that? You still own your old place?”

  “For now. Still got some boxes to move.”

  “Good enough. You lead. I’ll follow.” Zack closed the front door, beckoning Kelsey to the other vehicle. She leaned into Shelby for a quick hug. “See you soon.”

  Zack transferred the dogs and their gear while Shelby scrambled for the front seat and secured her seatbelt. And her nerves.

  Gabe’s head swiveled back and forth at what had once been a quiet neighborhood. “You ready?”

  “Yes,” she answered, acid pitching up the back of her throat.

  “One rule. If I tell you to get down, I want your ass on the floor with no questions asked, you understand?”

  She nodded, her throat dry. God, if she could just stop shaking.

  He eased the vehicle out of the driveway and slipped away from what had once been a quiet neighborhood. It looked different now. Still shabby, but with too many places to hide. To stalk. To ambush.

  Shelby closed her eyes, the suspense of getting away from danger more than she could bear. Why did I ever take this job?

  Gabe drove for blocks before Shelby looked behind her. Flipping the sun visor down, she angled it to keep Zack’s vehicle in sight. Gabe squeezed her hand on the console between them.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, his eyes drifting to her and then back to the road.

  She blew out a deep breath. “This is all my fault. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed a little too quickly, but without malice. “You blew it, but things happen on every undercover op. When they do, we improvise. Stop beating yourself up. It’s done.”

  “But Zack’s ready to kill me.”

  “So what are you going to tell him when we stop?”

  “That he’s right. I screwed up. I’ll do KP or whatever he wants to make things right with him.”

  Gabe chuckled, a welcome sound on her stretched-too-tight nerves. “The old beg forgiveness routine, huh? Don’t do that. Just tell him he’s right. That’s enough. He’s mad now, but he’s fair. He won’t chew you out if you don’t argue with him.”

  “I’ll bake him a cake. What kind does he like? Do you know?”

  “Ha. That’s easy. Chocolate. Zack’s got a sweet tooth the size of his hollow leg.”

  “What kind do you like?” She had to ask.

  Gabe shrugged. “I’m not much for sweets.”

  “Meat and potatoes?”

  “Yeah. I guess. Real food. Chicken enchiladas with roasted habaneras are good, too.”

  “You like spicy food. You should’ve told me. Is that what you missed while you were overseas?”

  “Nope. I missed my mom’s homemade pizza,” he said without one second’s hesitation. “Greasy, cheesy combination with ten kinds of meat and extra sauce and peppers.”

  She shuddered at the cholesterol levels this guy had to have, but the conversation calmed her last frazzled nerve. “Ten kinds of meat?”

  “Hey, girl, I’m from Texas. What’d you think I want on my pizza? Spinach? Tofu?”

  Now it was her turn to chuckle. He had an easy way about him, as if he held no grudges. “Okay, then. Greasy, cheesy pizza with a side of beef and chocolate cake it is. My treat.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “I know you were only trying to help when you went to the pharmacy. Did you see anything, though? Were there any other vehicles on the street when you left the house? At the pharmacy? Were you followed?”

  She gulped, thinking back to the pharmacy parking lot. She’d tried to be careful and quick. It was early. Only she and the clerk were there. “No. I was only gone about fifteen minutes. What do you think happened?”

  “Simple. Either someone planted a bomb under your car while you were inside the pharmacy or they hit it with an RPG after you’d parked. Hell, a bomb might have been in your car the whole time. We’ll have to wait to hear back from Mark to know what really happened.”

  She cringed. “He’s going to scream at me, too.”

  “Yeah, probably.” Gabe’s cell phone vibrated at his belt. Pulling it off his holster, he tossed it to her. “Answer that for me, would you?”

  She did. Ewww. Zack. “Hello?”

  “Tell your boyfriend to pull over. Now.”

  “He wants you to pull over,” Shelby said, tapping the speakerphone on so Gabe could speak for himself. Zack still sounded plenty irritated, especially with that boyfriend crack.

  “Why? We got trouble?” Gabe asked.

  “Just do it.” Zack hung up, so Gabe pulled to the curb within minutes and retrieved his phone. Both men climbed out, leaving the vehicles running. Gabe handed his phone over to Zack. Shelby caught it through the side mirror.

  Zack crushed Gabe’s and his phone beneath the heel of his boot. “Be sure you discard Shelby’s before we take off,” he ordered. “If anyone’s tracking us by GPS, let this be where the trail ends.”

  “Copy that,” Gabe replied. The men leaned against the Land Rover. Their conversation turned to short concise questions and answers.

  “You’re sure just two?” Zack asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Positive. Both using ARs.” Gabe scuffed his boots, crossed his ankles and looked at his senior agent.

  “The driver, too?”

  “Through the passenger-side window.”

  “Sullivan has to go,” Zack growled, not seeming to care she might overhear.

  Shelby lowered her head and closed her eyes. He was right. She’d been nothing but a liability since she’d shown up on Kelsey’s front door.

  “No. She stays.”

  “She goes, Cartwright. The sooner the better. The girl doesn’t listen.”

  “Understood, but she thought the op was over when we snagged Becker last night. Honest mistake for a civilian to make. Besides, Kelsey needs her.”

  “Bullshit. We’ve been fighting her ornery ass since day one.”

  Shelby reached for the door handle. She could settle this by walking away. Then they’d all be safe. Kelsey was obviously doing better. She didn’t need her help anymore.

  “I seem to remember hearing a story ’bout some guy who blew another operation to hell and back,” Gabe muttered, his head lowered, his gaze on the ground. “Seems to me that moron put his senior agent at risk then, too. Could’ve gotten them both killed. David, wasn’t it?”

  Shelby’s ears perked up. Someone else messed up as bad as me?

  “That was different and you know it,” Zack shot back.

  Oh, my gosh. Zack? What’d you do?

  Gabe elbowed Zack’s thick bicep. “You can’t blame her for being naive. ‘Sides, she asked me for a gun. We might need another shooter on our side before this is over.”

  Zack lifted his shoulders, but Shelby couldn’t decide if that meant he couldn’t care less or that he might forgive her. He stared straight ahead. “Sons of bitches.”

  “Damned straight,” Gabe said. “They are son of bitches and they’ve got us on the run.”

  “You got a plan?”

  “Always,” Gabe responded. “Same as yours. Snag a couple cheap burn phones. Contact Mark again once we get to my place. Lay low. Eat pizza and chocolate cake. Let The TEAM do their job while we do ours.”

  Zack grunted. “Mark needs to step up his game and catch these punks.”

  “You do realize we could’ve lost her this morning. She could’ve died in that explosion before she ever got back to the house.”

  “Stop with the guilt routine already. She had a good butt reaming coming.”

  Gabe winked slyly at her. “Maybe, but she’s not one of us, and you’re scaring the hell out of her.”


  “Do you and me need to chat about cozying up with clients, Cartwright?”

  “Maybe.”

  Shelby could’ve kissed Gabe for defending her when she least deserved it. Kind of like Libby had done after the accident at the hospital. Shelby breathed a deep breath and pulled her phone out of her purse, ready to hand it over and be obedient to the bitter end if needed.

  Zack slapped the side of the vehicle. “You got chocolate cake at your place?”

  Gabe grinned and his whole face lit up, the laugh lines deep and long at the corners of his eyes. Like rays of sunshine. Her body hummed with appreciation for the easygoing way he’d just handled Zack and her. There he stood, facing his senior agent and looking as if he enjoyed it.

  Her heart welled up with—what? Not just appreciation. Not anymore. Every part of her wanted another close encounter in the dark. Her body. Her heart. Maybe even her soul. A wave of need rippled up from her toes for another taste of that man’s sexy, smiling mouth. Those lips that very well could have chewed her out but didn’t.

  He seemed at ease, as if they weren’t in the middle of a getaway. “I’m pretty sure I’ll have chocolate cake by the time we’re done with the pizza.”

  Zack grunted. He actually smiled. A little.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  He hadn’t had time to think about the rose until now, but damn. How had Alex gotten inside his house and right under their noses, too? The man had his nerve, but there was no denying the rose. Someone who cared about Kelsey had left it on her pillow. The only guy who fit the bill was dead—or supposed to be.

  Zack didn’t seem convinced, but Gabe gave up fighting Kelsey’s conviction that it was Alex. There had to be a better explanation than resurrection. Gabe just couldn’t think of one, and he didn’t believe a word out of that lying Becker’s mouth.

  He caught sight of the tail in his rearview mirror when the black Escalade swerved out of its traffic lane and increased speed, but damn. They were on a bridge over the Potomac, headed northwest with heavy traffic and no way to contact The TEAM for an assist.

  Gabe slowed until he was alongside Zack, motioning for him to watch his six.

  Zack offered a thumbs-up and one quick nod, indicating he’d already seen the tail.

  And the race was on.

  Gabe ducked in behind Zack and Kelsey, running interference with whoever was in that Escalade. When the guy sped up and tried to refuse Gabe’s change of lanes, he twisted the wheel sharply to the right and cut him off. “Back off, jerk.”

  “What’s going on?” Shelby asked, ducking to follow the action in that tiny sun visor mirror.

  “Remember what I said earlier?” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his eyes glued to the rearview. “Now would be a good time to get down on the floor.”

  She unfastened her seatbelt and slid to her knees without one word of argument. Nice.

  “Keep your head down and stay out of sight. Hang on tight. Things might get bumpy.”

  No sooner said than done. He slammed on his brakes, forcing the tail to do the same, but with no warning and less stopping distance. They locked bumpers. More like smashed bumpers, but the second they made contact, Gabe stomped the gas pedal and disengaged.

  The Land Rover responded with a jolt of speed, while Zack’s vehicle was long gone, dodging traffic and changing lanes somewhere up ahead. The tail responded, but the collision had caused no major radiator damage as Gabe had hoped.

  Once he recovered from the sudden stop, the guy in the Escalade punched it and jerked his ride two lanes to the right. Gabe countered with a similar maneuver that put him alongside a twenty-foot long UPS truck, blocking the tail directly behind him.

  For some reason, the UPS truck driver swerved to the right, bringing Gabe’s focus forward. He hit the brakes, narrowly missing Zack, who’d slowed due to traffic. That mistake cost. Another Escalade came from out of nowhere and closed in behind him and Zack.

  Damn. Two tails.

  Gabe hit the brakes again. Jerking his wheel to the right, he cut off the rear Escalade and slid in directly behind Zack, close enough to kiss his rear bumper.

  The time had come to change the game plan. He unholstered the pistol under his left arm. “Shelby. Get up. You see the guy in the UPS truck beside us? When I speed up alongside him, wave this weapon at him. Motion him to back off. Act like you mean it.”

  She climbed onto the seat and took the pistol gingerly out of his hand and into hers. “Just wave it?” she asked breathlessly? “That’s all you want me to do?”

  Gabe lowered her automatic window. “Yes, ma’am. That ought to work. Don’t aim it at him, though.”

  She extended her arm out the open window and waved the weapon, but when the driver didn’t pay attention, she got creative. She knelt on her seat and leaned out the window, waving the gun wildly. “Hey! Would you please move over?”

  Somehow please and gun waving didn’t quite go together, but it did the trick. As soon as the driver spotted her antics, he stepped on his brakes and created his own traffic jam in the slow lane.

  Zack took advantage of the break in traffic and veered into the clear lane at the right. Before Escalade Two could follow suit and change lanes, Gabe unholstered his other pistols and fired into the tail’s left rear tire. Direct hit. The vehicle swerved into the lane Zack had just vacated, but because of tire damage, it swerved just as quickly out of control to the left.

  One down.

  “Go, Zack. Go,” Gabe prompted. “Get the hell out of there.”

  Zack was no dummy. He and Kelsey were already car lengths ahead.

  The end of the bridge loomed close, but traffic into D.C. was steady. And in the way.

  Shelby leaned on her butt back onto her seat, the gun still in her hand. “What’s next?”

  “Put the gun in the glove box. Get back on the floor and hang on.”

  Escalade One came up fast behind them. The fool. As soon as Shelby hit the floor, Gage did what he’d done the first time. He slammed on his brakes, only this time there was no speed-up-and-follow-Zack routine. This was one of those now-or-never moments when hell had to be stopped in its tracks, and not the other way around.

  He slammed the Land Rover into park and ordered Shelby to, “Stay put.”

  Jerking his door open, he rolled one knee to the pavement and fired before the tail knew what had hit him. The round went into the radiator as planned, eliciting a healthy plume of steam. The second round went into the Escalade’s right front tire and Gabe was on his feet, ready to fire again. The quicker this went down, the better. Zack needed time to get Kelsey to safety and Gabe intended to give him plenty.

  What he didn’t expect was Shelby at his left, the pistol he’d given her extended between two shaking hands.

  “Get the hell back in the car,” he ground out, needing not one more damned distraction. Oncoming traffic was bad enough.

  “I can help,” she replied, blowing her blond locks out of her face. The stiff Potomac breeze messed with her tough girl, gun-toting attitude. The one Gabe didn’t know she had.

  He zeroed back on the guy behind the wheel of the Escalade. Whoever the bastard was, he hadn’t fired yet; he just sat there, waiting.

  Gabe hurried forward while sirens raced toward him from north and south. Damn. This wasn’t the way he wanted to waste the day—explaining to Metro PD why he’d stopped traffic on the Arlington Memorial Bridge.

  The tail opened the Escalade’s driver-side door and placed one damned familiar cowboy boot to the pavement. Gabe couldn’t have been more surprised.

  Sam Becker stepped out with a big, shitty grin. “Agent Cartwright. Looks like you caught me again,” he drawled in that annoying lazy way he had, both of his hands raised in submission. “We keep bumping into each other like this, and there’s going to be hell to pay.”

  “There’s hell to pay now. Why aren’t you in jail?”

  Becker shrugged, his eyes twinkling as if he did this kind of thing every day. “Guess
the police didn’t believe your story.”

  “Bullshit. You were stalking Kelsey Stewart and you were armed. I can attest to that. And Mark’s got video evidence that you killed Alex Stewart, you fraud.”

  Again, the shrug. Becker cast a casual glance over his shoulder at the approaching police cruiser, their blue lights flashing. “What I’d like to know now is how you’re going to explain the mayhem you’ve caused. Metro police don’t take kindly to wild west shootouts this close to the White House.”

  “Hands up where I can see them,” Gabe ordered, wishing Shelby wasn’t out in the open and exposed like she was. What a target she made, but ordering her back to the car wasn’t an option. Becker didn’t need to know she’d never fired a weapon before. He needed to believe his time on earth had run out.

  “You see, Junior Agent Cartwright.” He lowered his hands and tucked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, like a cowboy who had nowhere to go and all day to get there. “You don’t have a clue what kind of a hornet’s nest you just stuck your nose into. You should’ve let me intercept Mrs. Stewart. I could’ve helped her. Now you’ll be the one going to jail.”

  Gabe’s gaze hit the silver glint at Becker’s belt. Damn. An FBI badge.

  An inkling of awareness slithered up the back of Gabe’s neck. That’s why Becker got out of jail free. He really was FBI, and if the FBI was behind Alex’s death?

  The TEAM didn’t stand a chance.

  “We had no choice,” Zack’s voice was hard as steel. “What’d you expect us to do? Stay on site and wait for the shooters to come back?”

  Mark bit his tongue, not up for yet one more damned confrontation. He’d been at home when he got the call and come as quickly as possible, but just missed Zack, Gabe, and the ladies.

  Shelby’s car still sat in the street, smoking from the pipe bomb that had gone off under its hood. The police found pieces of a cell phone in the debris, no doubt the detonator.

  Zack was on high alert at a secure location somewhere, though he’d declined to say where, and that angered Mark. The Alexandria police were at the scene at the Stewarts’ home, now a massive crime scene. Who knew where Gabe and Shelby were? Every attempt to gain control of this damned team was met with resistance. Now Zack. What else could go wrong?