Facing Evil

by Kylie Brant

  “They’re in there. Don’t blow off your dick with them. Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  “Relax.” He lifted the bundle of tightly wrapped explosives from the backpack and went to the ambulance. “This will only take a few minutes.”

  * * * *

  Behind the north perimeter, the street was closed to traffic, clogged with DMPD and Polk County sheriff cars. Cam had left his vehicle there, too, along with a very frustrated Sophie. But until he knew what the risk level was, what they were dealing with here, she was far safer in a locked vehicle surrounded by uniformed officers intent on keeping the gawkers away.

  Because Mason Vance was on the loose again. There was an ulcerated burn churning in his gut. The man had kidnapped Sophie. Had planned to rape, torture and kill her the way he had the other victims. She rarely spoke of the emotional aftereffects that were a result of her ordeal, but he knew they were there. Had held her when she woke from a dream, a scream on her lips, her body trembling. Still saw the way she had to steel her spine sometimes just to enter the shower.

  The certainty of Vance’s continued incarceration had been the one thing she could count on to ward off the haunting memories.

  And now that certainty was gone.

  With Tommy Franks at his side, he made his way toward the cluster of cops that seemed to be directing the search, flashing his badge to any uniform that tried to halt their progress. He recognized Polk County Sheriff Dusten Jackson holding a rolled up map in his hand, but not the deputy at his side. He was talking to a couple of men in suits. One was familiar. Cam figured the other was from the DMPD detective unit. A moment later his assumption was verified.

  “Prescott.” Jackson broke away from the rest of the group to approach him. “You must have sprouted wings after I called.”

  “Damn near.” He introduced Tommy and inclined his head toward the men she’d been speaking to who had all turned to look at them. “Who are they?” He followed the sheriff back toward the group.

  “My chief deputy, Derek Ott. DMPD Chief of Detectives Brian Lewis, and this is…”

  “Lieutenant Manny Rodriguez,” Cam finished for her. He nodded to the man. “DCI Special Agents Cam Prescott and Tommy Franks. We brought Vance in three weeks ago.”

  “We followed the case,” Lewis said. Twin tiny images of Cam were reflected in the man’s mirrored glasses when he looked at him. “Hell of a thing. This escape was orchestrated. He had help.”

  Jackson nodded grimly, his gaze going to the uniformed deputies and police spread up and down the street, checking out buildings. “We think one of the other inmates was paid off to start a distraction. When the medical officer responded he noticed Vance having what looked like a seizure. His blood pressure was elevated, pupils dilated, face flushed. The officer followed protocol, applying first aid while an ambulance was summoned. Two ambulances…” The man broke off as his cell pinged and he read a text from it. Then continued on with the thought. “The distraction I mentioned? Another inmate required medical care as well. I put a deputy in the ambulance with Vance as a safeguard. Had lead and rear escort cars…” He shook his head in frustration.

  “Vance had someone inside the ambulance,” Franks said, and Cam nodded. “More than one, I’d guess. The driver had to be in on it. One of the EMTs.

  Unless…” He eyed the sheriff.

  “No way.” His answer was vehement. “Ted Galloway is solid. A veteran. I don’t know how Vance got the help he did, but it didn’t come from one of my men.”

  Since there was no way of being sure, it was useless to speculate. “He’s got someone on the outside who got this all lined up.” Cam gave them a rundown on Vickie Baxter’s recent activities, adding, “We just identified the vehicle she’s been driving and sent out a statewide BOLO on it. Iowa State Patrol is providing two planes to aid in the surveillance.”

  “We could use one of them to aid in the search,” Lewis said.

  “That’s the plan,” Cam agreed drily.

  “Show him the map.” At Lewis’ suggestion they moved a few feet so Jackson could unroll it across the trunk of his cruiser. “You can see in red the intended route for emergency vehicles to the medical center. The ambulance veered off the route almost immediately, here.” He jabbed an index finger at an intersection that was highlighted in yellow.

  “So the lead escort car would need to make a U turn and the rear one was likely too far away to realize what was happening right away.” Cam studied the map. The driver had gained valuable seconds and a lead that hadn’t been regained. It helped that he’d likely known exactly where he was heading. Had scouted the route beforehand.

  “What’s the X referring to?”

  “Last visual of the vehicle.” Jackson drummed his fingers on the map. “The lead car radioed immediately as soon as the emergency vehicle went off route. Simultaneous calls to the office and the ambulance. They were unable to contact the driver and took immediate pursuit. I called you right after alerting DMPD to send available units to the area. We put out a BOLO on the ambulance. No sighting has been reported since shortly after we lost visual.”

  Cam exchanged a long level look with the sheriff, who had the grace to flush and look away. He should have been alerted the moment the decision was made to transport Vance for medical assistance, and Jackson knew it.

  Giving voice to the recriminations running through his head right now wouldn’t help find Vance, though. And that was Cam’s only priority. “So this is the search area.” He traced the dotted black circle. Then looked and scanned the street before him. Just a few miles off the designated route had landed the ambulance in an area south of the Martin Luther King Junior Parkway. The neighborhood was undergoing spotty attempts at revitalization. But the space they’d be focusing on was a two block square still gripped in urban neglect. Warehouses crowded against abandoned buildings and dilapidated tenements. The bright neon sign of an occasional bar dotted the street, but the sidewalks were oddly deserted.

  Or maybe that was not so odd. Residents in the area had limited eyesight and memories when it came to talking to the police.

  Rodriguez spoke up. “I’ve got a dozen officers canvassing the neighborhood talking to people. That’s how we got the last sighting. A dozen more are going door to door, targeting only the buildings large enough to house an emergency vehicle. Trouble we’re having is most of the buildings are empty, and we can’t get visual inside them.”

  “Well, then, let’s get visual.” It was the first time Franks had spoken.

  Cam already had his cell in hand, pressing a familiar speed dial number. “Maria.” The SAC was already enroute to the scene. “We’ll need some assistance from Metro S.T.A.R.”

  The other law enforcement personnel looked at each other. “I don’t think we need to call SWAT into this,” Jackson said uneasily. “We don’t even have a precise location.”

  “The object is to get one. We may not need a tactical team at this point, but they’ve got better toys than we do,” he responded. “And they can get us eyes inside these buildings.

  * * * *

  Vance was taking forever. Vickie suspected he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. She didn’t care how much he thought he’d learned about explosives. It wasn’t exactly like learning to ride a bike. After coming this far she didn’t want to get blown up by a dumbass with a bomb.

  Everything to this point had gone off without a hitch. Because she’d been in charge, she thought. But now that the deal was done, nerves were scrambling up her spine. After moving around the city—and beyond—freely and anonymous, she felt trapped here. Jumpy. It came from knowing the goddamned cops were all over the area searching for Vance. The plan they’d come up with months ago in case one of them was caught suddenly seemed riddled with flaws.

  The end result would be worth it though. The money would set them up in another location while they came up with a new operation. Sonny wouldn’t be around to help this time. A pang struck her. Maybe she’d hang o
n to the kid. Henry. If she taught him right, he’d learn to be better help than Sonny ever was. Smarter, without the crazy that had made her son so unpredictable.

  The back and front sides of the building had once been lined with large metal overhead doors. A few were still operational. Others had been boarded over. There was also a regular exit to the alley in the back next to the office. She went to it now. Unlocked the deadbolts and eased it open.

  The alley was empty, with the exception of a drunk sleeping it off on a pile of garbage next to a Dumpster. She watched the street that ran past the alley’s end. Saw a cop cruiser go by, no lights, no siren. But no other cars passed. Shit. Likely they had the area barricaded already.

  She ducked inside again, relocking the door and went to the backpack. Vance was still busy so she took the one of the laptops she’d purchased out of its compartment in the backpack and sat down on the cement, cradling it on her lap. Vickie turned on the computer. Earlier in the week she’d slipped in here just to double check the place and to see if the Mi-Fi router worked in the old warehouse. She’d been half amazed when it had. Fucking technology was unbelievable.

  She tuned into the police scanner app she’d downloaded. Scrolled through the channels for a few minutes but found nothing that pertained to them. Puzzled, she tried it again. Nothing.

  “What are you doing?”

  She jumped a foot. Jesus, she was nervous. Turning, she glared at the man grinning at her. “Asshole. I’ve got a scanner on the computer. Can’t find a thing about your escape. Thought maybe we could listen to the cops’ search.” Since there was no point to it, she turned off the computer and slipped the laptop into her backpack. Then took out the map she’d drawn and rose.

  “Here.” Thrusting it at him, she buckled the pack. “Better learn where the fuck we’re headed to.”

  Vance studied the crude drawing much too briefly and then jammed it into a pocket in his jeans. He went to one of the helmets she had next to the cycle. Put it on. When he spoke next, his voice was muffled, even with the visor up. “They’re probably keeping it off the radios in case we’re listening. Which we are.”

  Vickie rolled up the bag, which was now half empty. It was a tight fit in the backpack. She struggled to get the pack over her shoulders, and then secured it with a strap around her waist. “You done with everything?” She reached for the second helmet and put it on, tucking her hair beneath it.

  He laughed, low and ugly. “I’m not going to be the one who’s done once those back doors to the ambulance open. But, yeah. Ready to roll.” He picked up the two overhead garage door openers, which still sat next to the motorcycle. “Which of these opens the back one?”

  Jesus. There were times she really wondered how the man walked and talked without help. “The one with the word ‘back’ written on it in magic marker.”

  He shot her a look. “Haven’t missed your smart mouth at all, Vick. But I missed all the time I put in teaching you when to shut it.”

  Sizzles of excitement popped through her veins, and her nerves faded. Some of those times with Vance had been memorable, when he didn’t get carried away. “Maybe later you can give me a refresher. For now...” She waited for him to get on the cycle and then settled on it behind him. “Gimme the opener.” She aimed it at the lone door that worked on the back wall and it creaked slowly upward. When they were out she’d close it again. No use making things easy for the cops. “Let’s move out.”

  * * * *

  “I was beginning to believe you had intentions of leaving me in the car all day.”

  Cam slanted Sophia a glance. “No use you standing around in the heat until I figured out what the situation was.”

  Until he’d assessed the threat, he meant. She hadn’t needed to run the air conditioner much while she waited, because the thought of Mason Vance on the loose with Vickie Baxter again had chilled her to the bone. She couldn’t stop thinking about what the pawnshop owner had said about her asking about explosives. Had they obtained them? If so, what were they planning? Because if today had proven anything, it was that the duo was adept at executing plans.

  As they walked Cam filled her in on what he’d learned so far. “Maria’s on her way,” he finished. “Sheriff’s office, DMPD and SWAT are already represented. I’m figuring it’s only a matter of time until assistant director Miller shows up with city brass in tow. I want everyone brought up-to-date about the killers before that time because once the suits start flooding the scene things go downhill quickly.”

  The leaders would then need to spend more of their time pacifying and explaining than strategizing. Sophia’s step quickened. Cam was right. Every minute was vital. There was no way of knowing whether the killers were holed up in an old building in the area waiting for the cover of darkness to slip away. Or if they’d run as soon as they were able, hoping to elude the law enforcement on their trail.

  “We’ve isolated the abandoned buildings in the area, and Tommy is chasing down the property ownership.” As if realizing he was outdistancing her with his stride, Cam slowed his pace. “We’ve got Metro S.T.A.R. members using 3D imaging devices on those buildings that lack interior visual access. We’ll know soon if the ambulance is in the area.”

  “Any word from the personnel at the motels?” On their way to the scene Cam had lost no time placing an agent in each of the motel rooms they’d tracked to Baxter.

  He shook his head as they walked up to the tight knot of law enforcement watching a SWAT member work the block, affixing the audio set to the building and listening for sound inside. When he introduced Sophia, Jackson immediately asked,

  “Dr. Channing, based on the profiles you’ve developed for Vance and Baxter, can you predict their next move?”

  It was her least favorite sort of query, and exactly the kind of question she was asked most in situations like these. “Always the offenders are going to behave in the way that best meets their needs, which right now would be to evade police. I would be concerned about the hostages in the ambulance. Once they’ve served their purpose…” The sheriff’s face went ashen, making Sophia regret her words.

  “Ted’s in that ambulance. One of my men.”

  Lewis turned to look at her. “Are we sure Baxter would be on site?”

  “Almost certainly.” There was no question in her mind. “She has likely spent the time since Vance’s arrest making all the details for his escape. And they probably planned for such an eventuality prior to his capture.”

  “So they’d have a place to go to already set up.”

  “Yes.” The heat index wasn’t as high as yesterday, but it was still hot enough to have Sophia’s temples dampening. “I think it will be one of the motel rooms she’s booked. It sounds like she’s been using them on a rotating basis and I can’t figure a reason for that if she has some other safe spot to use.”

  Rodriguez spoke for the first time. “You’re acting like they wouldn’t just take off. Try to get out of the area. Leave the state.”

  “I don’t doubt that they will. But first…there’s a reason Baxter has done all this for Vance and it isn’t her undying love for him. They have unfinished business to tend to together. That will come first.”

  Three cells pinged almost simultaneously. Cam, Jackson and Lewis grabbed their phones concurrently. Then after listening for a moment, sprang into action like it was choreographed. Cam and the sheriff ran for the county cruiser while Lewis took off toward another vehicle.

  “They’re in pursuit of a motorcycle. Two riders,” Cam shouted at Tommy.

  The other agent nodded stolidly, he and Rodriguez unmoving. Sophia looked from one of them to the other as the two law enforcement vehicles took off with squealing tires. In the not-too-far off distance, sirens sounded.