Gabe (In the Company of Snipers Book 8)

by Winters, Irish

  The local volunteer fire department had barely rolled on scene when he’d arrived. First responders sprayed fire retardant over the smoking carcass. Kelsey’s neighbors were curious, but no longer alarmed. A tow truck was backed into position to haul the wrecked car away when the police released it.

  “Did you see who did it?” Mark tried like hell to infuse calm authority into his voice. Zack was the older and more experienced agent. He should have been the senior. Challenging a superior and more talented operator never was Mark’s strong suit. “Did anyone?”

  “Gabe got a good look at the shooters and we both got some shots off. He thinks we might’ve hit one. I double-checked our security footage of Kelsey’s place, now that we’ve stopped. Mother’s checking traffic cams to locate the shooters. It sure as hell seems to me we’ve got two things going on. Think about it. Who the hell uses pipe bombs and ARs?”

  Mark rolled his eyes. His migraine spiked at the dumb question. “Shit, Zack. Everyone.”

  Kelsey muttered something in the background. All Mark caught of her comment was, “. . . if Alex comes home, what will he...”

  “What if Alex comes home?” Mark roared. “Is that what I’m hearing? You tell her that if and when Alex decides to bless us with his presence again, I’m gonna kick his ass!”

  He turned away from the crime scene in sheer frustration. Damn it to hell. This wasn’t one of his prouder moments. He’d yelled at a grieving woman who wasn’t even there. To make it a hundred times worse, it was Kelsey.

  Zack sucked in a deep growl on the other end of the line. “Shit, Mark. Calm down, will you? Let me rephrase. I only meant that Sam Becker isn’t the kind of guy who’d use a pipe bomb, for hell’s sake. Think about it. You’ve got the evidence yourself on video back at the office. He’d use something subtle, like that fancy rifle you told me about. The guy’s no hack. Hell, if he’s the one behind the rose—”

  “He very well might be,” Mark muttered, his eyes back on the activity on the street and the tow truck, its flatbed tilted and winching Shelby’s sad little heap onto it. Rivulets of gray water streamed to the blackened pavement. “When I called the police department from home this morning to see if I could speak with him, they had no idea what I was talking about, not even the police chief.”

  “What? You mean they lost him?”

  “I mean they claim they never had him. Whoever intercepted my call to the police department last night must’ve been in league with him. Did you think Becker might’ve planted that rose just to keep us spun up and jumping through our asses?”

  Zack growled again, his conversation skills disintegrating with every additional piece of bad news. “Listen, Mark. It sure as hell fits. The bastard’s a pro, especially if he’s really working with the Bureau, but the guys who bombed Shelby’s car are not. I’m telling you, there are two very different things going on here. I think we’re caught in the freakin’ middle of a high-tech operation and terrorist wannabes.”

  Mark raked a tense hand over his head of hair, fighting the urge to pull it out. Every day The TEAM fell apart a little bit more, and they were no closer to locating Kelsey’s assailants or Alex, IF the sonofabitch really was alive.

  “So you’re telling me we’ve got two different guys after Kelsey?” Mark asked bluntly. “How is that supposed to convince me you can keep her safe now that Gabe’s missing?”

  “He’s not missing. He just hasn’t caught up with us yet. But think about it. Whoever hit Shelby’s car was most likely out to kill Kelsey, but whoever left the rose is out to save her. At least to help her.”

  “I can’t believe the FBI cares enough to send flowers.”

  “Then who do you think did it? Because I’m here to tell you, Mark, the flower’s the real deal, and Kelsey’s a new woman today because of it. You should’ve seen her after the bombing. She was ready to kick ass. You’d have been proud. Even had her pistol strapped on.”

  Damn. Mark honestly didn’t know how to answer his friend. Alex alive? No way. But a rose to wake up to after Becker sucked the hope out of her last night? Mark scrubbed a hand over his face, glad that Zack couldn’t see his mounting doubt. Did Alex even do sentimental crap like bring Kelsey flowers? Mark buckled. “What now?”

  “Like you said,” Zack reminded him. “We do our jobs. I’ll keep Kelsey safe and off the grid. You guys go after Fallon. Becker too. Alex will show up when he’s able. You’ll see.”

  Zack made it sound simple.

  “Where are you?”

  “Somewhere safe. That’s all you need to know. Kick ass. I’ll be in touch.”

  The second he disconnected Mark’s cell vibrated at his hip holster. Mother. Just great. He still hadn’t had a free second to chat with her, and his to-do list grew longer every day. His migraine along with it.

  “Are you still at Kelsey’s?” Impatience edged her tone.

  “Just leaving. What’s up? Did you get an update from Steven and his team?”

  “Don’t worry. They’re safe, but I’m patching Connor and Rory through to you. They’ve intercepted your shooters. Shots have been fired. Two police cruisers are in pursuit and D.C. Metro already set up a roadblock.” She transferred the call to his cell before he could say yay or nay, dumping Mark into the middle of screeching tires and mayhem.

  “Boss, you there?” Connor yelled over the din.

  “Here,” Mark answered, gripping the back of his neck with his free hand, scrubbing it up and over his head.

  “We’ve got ’em in our sights. The guys who hit Kelsey’s this morning. They’re traveling east, doing over a hundred. Just like the Escalade Gabe found in the river. Wait! The bastard’s shoot—”

  A loud BOOM vibrated through the connection. Mark pulled his cell from his ear.

  “Hell! Rory! You good?” Connor’s voice came back shrill and angry as more shots were fired, hopefully from Rory or Connor’s weapons. Screeching tires told Mark the race was still on. Another shot sounded, but Connor halted his progress report.

  Mark strained to hear over the wail of sirens and gunfire. Rory uttered an expletive, unusual for him, then nothing. Mark didn’t know what he was listening to—the deaths of two more of his team or a rollover. Acid pooled in his gut as the racket reduced to silence.

  Finally, Connor came back on line, out of breath. “Boss. You still there?”

  “Yeah. Speak.”

  “Police are here with us. We’ve got... wait a second. Who is that?” Connor hollered away from the phone. “Looks like we’ve got Stevenson and...”

  Mark listened as yelling and racket ensued on Connor’s end of the line.

  “Mark? You still there?”

  Shit! I’m here already!

  “Copy that,” Mark replied, exasperated at being asked the same question without getting enough intel to picture the mayhem on the other end of the line.

  “The police have Stevenson and Bukowski in custody. Stevenson just knifed an officer, so he’s not going anywhere soon. Found a couple pipe bombs in the back seat of their vehicle. Looks like they weren’t done terrorizing folks yet.”

  “You guys okay?”

  “Yeah. We’re good. Found a box of rat poison, too. You know why they’d have something like that?”

  Shit. Were these guys cruel enough to have poisoned Kelsey’s dogs? Her boys?

  “Yeah. They might have used it on Whisper and Smoke. Give me the brand name. Step on it.”

  Connor came back on the line in seconds with the requested information. “There’s something else you need to know.”

  “What?” Mark snapped.

  “We were kinda in the middle of defending ourselves when a black car bumped us out of our lane. You probably heard the racket. The driver nudged into us nice and easy like, forcing us out of his way. He shot out the Escalade’s tires. They lost control. Flipped the SUV over a couple times, but that was who stopped ’em. Wasn’t us.”

  “What’d he look like?”

  “Couldn’t see through the bl
ack window tint. Couldn’t see a thing.”

  “Coupe or sedan?”

  “Sedan, just like Becker’s last night. Hey listen, I gotta go. The police need to talk to me. Later.”

  Mark hung up and scrolled through his recent calls. He hit Zack’s burner phone number, his heart in his throat. Hell. Losing Whisper and Smoke would destroy Kelsey.

  “You called?” Zack asked quietly.

  “Check the dogs, Zack. Check ’em now. They might’ve been poisoned.”

  Zack dropped the phone, bellowing, “Son of a bitch! Kelsey! Come help me.”

  Mark closed his eyes at the sounds of tragedy and heartbreak coming over the line. God, she’d lost so much already.

  “Smoke!” she shrieked. “Help me, Zack. Please. They’re dying!”

  “I am, Kels. God, there’s so much blood.”

  “I know. I know!”

  Mark clenched his eyes and prayed. Not them, too. Not Whisper and Smoke.

  More phone bumping and racket ensued until Zack came back on the line. “They’re heaving blood. I’ve got to get a vet here. Sorry, Mark. I’ve got to go.”

  “Tell the vet it’s rat poison,” Mark named the brand so the vet would know how to treat the dogs.

  “Right. Later.” Zack disconnected, and Mark was as angry and as weary as he’d never been during all of his combat tours combined. Nothing compared. The ugly morning had gone from bad to worse. He’d barely stepped out on the front walk when his cell rang again. David.

  “Did Connor and Rory apprehend the SUV? Everyone okay?”

  “Yes. They caught up with Stevenson and Bukowski. Sounds like Rory and Connor had help intercepting them from some guy in a black sedan,” Mark muttered, hating that this info bite would add fuel to the spreading Alex myth.

  “Good. The gang of ten is down to the last man then. Fallon.”

  Mark scrubbed a hand over his face, glad for the accurate assessment, but the continual interference of that joker in the black sedan was a problem he didn’t need. Who the hell was he? Alex? Then why didn’t he come out and admit he was alive?

  “There’s something else.”

  “What?” Of course there’s something else. There was always some-goddamned-thing else!

  “Mother just tendered her resignation.”

  “She what? But I just spoke with her. She didn’t say a word about quitting when she transferred Connor’s call.”

  “And then she left. Sorry. I know this is the last thing you need to deal with right now, but she didn’t want to talk about it.”

  Mark hung up without another word, his phone clenched in his hand so tightly that it hurt his fingers. Sonofabitch! How did Alex wake up every single day and want do this damned job?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  And here I am, sitting in a police cruiser in the middle of the Arlington Memorial Bridge. What would Mom say?

  Shelby growled to herself. Two police officers had Gabe in custody, his feet kicked wide and his cheek to the trunk as if he were a common criminal. They’d frisked him twice, but Gabe was smart. Before that Becker guy could stop him, he’d pulled stuff out of his pockets and dropped it over the bridge railing as quick as if his pants were on fire.

  Shelby would’ve dropped her weapon over, too, but Becker was faster. He’d caught her by her wrists and pulled one arm behind her back. Then the police officers took Gabe down, scraping his cheek to the pavement before that jerk, Becker, stopped the rough handling. “Easy, boys. He’s mine.”

  Shelby had to give him credit. He’d very courteously removed Gabe’s pistol from her hand like a gentleman and escorted her to the patrol car.

  “Howdy, ma’am,” he’d said, as if he were at a Sunday social instead of the middle of a crime scene on the bridge. “Why don’t you take a seat and rest awhile, while I have a little talk your boyfriend?”

  Shelby hadn’t said a word because that was probably what he’d wanted—her to spill her guts or something like that. She worried for Gabe out there and surrounded by police, but what could she do? Escape? The notion intrigued her. She could run. That might give Gabe time to get away, too. Or something. But no. He looked pretty indisposed at the moment.

  Sam Becker, the liar. She didn’t trust him. Not one bit. He was dangerous. Gabe had said he was. The only guys he’d said anything to were the four police officers. A tow truck had already hauled the Escalade with the flat tire, away. One officer had escorted that driver to another cruiser, not in cuffs though. What was going on? Becker had caused all the trouble. Not Gabe.

  At last, the authorities must’ve believed something Becker told them. They let Gabe stand up straight. He arched his back, but then everything went from bad to worse. They cuffed his hands in front of him.

  A white van marked with the bright gold insignia of the FBI on its side panel rolled onto the scene. Becker said something to that driver, nodding toward Shelby, and oh my gosh. Her heart pounded. He thinks I’m a criminal?

  Becker took hold of Gabe’s elbow, ushering him toward her. Gabe turned and leaned his butt against the side of the car. Becker opened the door and ducked his head inside. The darned guy smiled, as if he held all the cards. “Miss Sullivan. Are you currently associated or in any way in collusion with Gabe Cartwright?”

  She nodded quickly. Nervously. “Yes. I am. He, umm, saved my life.”

  Becker winked. Dang, his eyes sparkled with mischief. “Then maybe you’ll be the smart one here today. Where is Kelsey Stewart going? Do you know? Where did Zack Lennox take her? Some place safe, I hope.”

  Shelby froze. Becker sure sounded friendly, and he certainly seemed to know everyone involved with Kelsey. But Gabe didn’t like him, and that was reason enough not to cooperate. She swallowed hard, fighting for enough saliva to make her vocal cords work. “I don’t know.”

  Honestly, the guy had a smile as big as the sky and eyes as blue. He scrunched up his nose, arching one bushy brow. “Now how did I know you’d say that?”

  He shut the door and crossed his arms over his chest, his legs spread wide, facing Gabe again. Shelby stilled to listen, but couldn’t make out one word.

  Gabe kept shaking his head.

  At last, Becker opened the door and ducked his head inside again. “Miss Sullivan, I’m going to take you and your friend to another location where we can discuss a few things before I decide what to do. I’m not going to have any trouble with you, am I? Tell me now, because I can certainly put you in cuffs if you’d prefer.”

  She shook her head, trembling from head to foot. This was her first time in a police car, and her first time in trouble with the law. Me? In cuffs?

  “I didn’t think so,” he purred. He opened the door wider and nodded for Gabe to enter. “You know the drill.”

  Gabe ducked his head into the vehicle and dropped to the seat beside her. “You say anything?”

  She glanced over her shoulder to keep an eye on Becker, still chatting with the police officers. “No. Nothing.”

  “Good girl. Follow my lead. Stay close. Can you do that?”

  “Y... y... yes.” Her eyes widened. The cuffs rested loose on his wrists. He’d escaped them already? Pure adrenaline pounded in her chest. He meant to make a run for it? Okay, but—darn. I’m going with him.

  “Kiss me,” he ordered, and she didn’t think twice. Not anymore. He had a plan. All she had was a bad case of nerves. Her lips were on his mouth and her hands on the side of his head in less than a heartbeat. She offered everything with that kiss, her lips parted and her tongue seeking his.

  A groan lifted out of his throat, along with muffled words she had to actually ease away from him to understand. “Sorry ’bout this, Shell,” he mumbled, “and we are definitely going to do this again later, but if you keep kissing me like that, I’m going to take you seriously and we’ll never get out of here.”

  She tilted her head back, pleased to her toes with the rumbling baritone in his chest but needing to see his eyes. He was still licking his lips. And hers. Y
ou called me Shell. “Sorry. You said kiss, so I kissed.”

  “No problem, but listen up, and do what I say. Your door isn’t latched tight. Kick it open. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “Escape?” She hissed against his lips, her eyes wide and searching for any sign of Becker, afraid he might overhear.

  “Don’t stop kissing,” Gabe urged, leaning forward. “Make it look good. They’ll think we’re off our rockers, but when I say go, let’s bust out of here.”

  “Isn’t that breaking the law?” she asked, mumbling around his lips and tongue. Dang. If the guy wanted to escape, he needed to stop nibbling on her bottom lip like he was. Just his close proximity threatened her thin hold on composure, but all this mouth-to-mouth contact had her body on overload. Him being cuffed, and kind of, sort of, at her mercy, messed with her head, too. But running from the law with him right behind her from real live police officers and an FBI agent who had guns? Hottest damned thing ever.

  “We can’t help Kelsey if we’re stuck in some FBI jail, can we?” Gabe gave her one last gentle bite. He slid the cuffs off of his wrists and dropped them to the floor between his legs. “Do it. Now. Go. Go. Go!”

  She pivoted on her butt, placed one foot solidly to the door and gave it all she had. Adrenaline pounded every nerve. With her feet barely on the pavement, and Gabe’s right hand between her shoulder blades, he all but pushed her out of the vehicle.

  And they were off. He had longer legs, but she had a head full of fear. Shelby couldn’t sprint the rest of the bridge fast enough. Her feet flew.

  Thank goodness they were closer to the Lincoln Memorial end of the bridge, and they headed straight into the Fourth of July crowd of tourists. She dodged people and bicyclists. Gabe stayed beside her. Everyone stepped out of her way, probably to avoid the police officers behind them. Becker had to be right on their heels, too. The terror of being caught added speed to her feet.

  I’m not going to jail for helping Kelsey!

  “Head for the tour buses,” Gabe ordered.