Wanted (FBI Heat Book 3)

by Marissa Garner

  He groaned.

  “Call an ambulance,” she shouted to Dillon.

  “N-No! They s-said we c-can’t c-call anyone,” Aileen sputtered the instant she could open her mouth.

  “Who said that?” Dillon asked, working on the tape binding her hands.

  Aileen glared over her shoulder at him. “What the h-hell are you doing here? Is this your fault?”

  “Mom, stop it. Now’s not the time. Where’s Skye?” Her gaze darted around the room. “Where is she?” she repeated, her voice rising in panic.

  “They took Skye. They took our baby.” Aileen yanked her hands free from Dillon, who was massaging blood flow back into them, and covered her face as she sobbed.

  Dillon straightened and surveyed the room. Paralyzed with mounting fear, Kat watched his expression as he seemed to notice the furnishings for the first time. Crib. Changing table with diapers, wipes, and baby powder. Baby toys piled in a toy box. A rocking chair. And a dozen framed pictures of a baby girl, many with Kat holding her.

  He sneezed and then his eyes zeroed in on hers. “Who’s Skye?”

  His question sucked all the air from the room. Her mother stopped sobbing, and her father quit groaning.

  Time stood still. Life stood still.

  Dillon’s laser-like blue eyes drilled into hers. Kat couldn’t breathe. Blood roared in her ears.

  “Who…is…Skye?” he repeated.

  Kat swallowed hard. “She…she’s my daughter.”

  Dillon’s head jerked back as if she’d slapped him.

  “I’ll explain later, but first we have to find her.” She tore her gaze away and bent over her father. “Dad, are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”

  He coughed and flinched. “We Scots…can take…a beatin’…like a man.”

  “I’ll take care of him,” Aileen said.

  Kat scooted over to kneel beside her. “Are you okay, Mom?”

  “Yes, yes. Just shook up.”

  “Tell us what happened.”

  “A woman came to the door, and when Craig opened it, she and two men pushed their way inside. They had guns. The men kept hitting Craig to get him to say where you were. Your father never told them a damn thing,” she stated proudly. “Those men said you weren’t home so we actually didn’t know where you were anyway.” Aileen shot a suspicious scowl at Dillon.

  “What about Skye?” Kat pressed impatiently.

  “They…they took her. She was a-cryin’ and a-kickin’ and a-screamin’. Our poor baby.” Her voice cracked. “They said…” She gulped. “You can get her back if you do what you’re told.”

  Her gut clenched with dread. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Go home. Wait for them to contact you. Don’t call the police or any authorities. They made a big point of that.” She glowered at Dillon again. “He shouldn’t be here.”

  “Mom, stop. Dillon is…helping me…as a friend. They won’t know he’s FBI.”

  “Helping you with what?”

  Kat glanced at Dillon, but he was staring at a picture of her holding a baby girl with sapphire eyes and thick, black curly hair. She blinked back the sting of threatening tears. This was so wrong on so many levels.

  “Dillon, should I tell them…more?”

  He faced her with a cold, stoic expression. “No. They should get out of town immediately. Go into hiding until this is over.” He pulled a pen from his pocket and looked around for a piece of paper. He had to settle for a diaper. “If you don’t hear from us in five hours, call Rex Kelley at the San Diego FBI office. Tell him to expect a data dump from TSK. Then call this number. Say Shadow sent you and to send the data. Understand?” He sneezed.

  “Yes. But what does—” Aileen began.

  “Just do it. Kat, we gotta go.”

  She stood up. “Are you sure you two will be okay?”

  “Yes, Katie dear. Get our baby back and be careful.”

  “You’ll hide?”

  “Yes,” her father said, pushing himself up to lean against the wall. “I’ll take care of your mother. You take care of Skye.”

  * * *

  Dillon’s gut hurt like he’d been kicked by a Clydesdale. Make that a pair of Clydesdales.

  Kat had a baby. A daughter. And now her daughter had been kidnapped.

  Damn. All sorts of primal emotions warred inside him. But now was not the time to face them. He needed to deal with this nasty business first. He glanced at Kat sitting rigidly in the passenger seat of his truck. “Do you want to call the police or the FBI?”

  Her head whipped around, her eyes wide with alarm. “No! They said not to. They might hurt Skye.”

  “Okay.” For now, at least. He’d wait to see what the kidnappers wanted before making his own decision.

  Neither said a word during the rest of the ride from her parents’ house to hers. Dillon circled the neighborhood several times, but there was no sign of the Hummer or Mercedes. Didn’t mean much since he’d decided the assholes were monitoring Kat via wireless cameras.

  “I need to check it out. Stay here. Keep the doors locked,” he ordered when he got out of the truck.

  Searching the small yard, he discovered nothing unusual. The place looked deceptively peaceful considering the unfolding drama. He found the front door unlocked—the bastards had been inside. Shit. With his Glock raised and ready, he went from room to room. The Clydesdales kicked him again when he found the bedroom full of baby paraphernalia.

  He sniffed and sneezed. That smell again. Candle, my ass. That’s baby powder.

  When he returned to the truck a few minutes later, he sneezed as he opened her door.

  “Bless you,” she said.

  He glared. “They left you a present.”

  “Skye?”

  The hope in her voice made him feel like a jerk. “No. A burner phone and a note.”

  “Oh,” she said, blinking rapidly.

  Once inside, he pointed to the cell on the coffee table. “Don’t touch it. I doubt they left prints, but we can always hope.”

  The note beside the phone said they would contact her shortly after her arrival. She was not to use the phone other than to speak to them. They didn’t say who “they” were, but Dillon was confident they were Chinese spies. So much for the Cold War being over. The enemies just kept changing.

  Kat dropped onto the couch, looking stressed beyond bearing. Pale. Fragile. Vulnerable. But right now, he didn’t much care. She’d lied to him. He was pissed and hurt.

  He flopped down in the armchair. On the couch would be too close.

  “How old was the baby in the picture?” he asked.

  “Huh?”

  “The baby in the picture at your folk’s place.”

  “Uh…ten months.”

  He did the math. Ten months plus nine months equaled way less than two years. The kid couldn’t be his. Not that he had any real reason to think it was, but her black hair and blue eyes looked…Well, hell. An odd stab of disappointment surprised—and puzzled—him. It’s only primal possessiveness, he decided. Even though he didn’t want her to have his kid, he apparently didn’t like the idea of her having anyone else’s either. His Y chromosome took over. “You sure as hell didn’t waste any time getting pregnant after you ran away,” he said snidely.

  “What?” She frowned.

  “Why’d you lie about not having sex since me? Did you think I’d actually care that someone else was fucking you?”

  She turned a shade paler. “I didn’t lie.”

  “Okay then. But we’ll rule out immaculate conception.” He sneered. “So you…what…used a sperm donor? Some guy jerked off in a cup to make your precious baby. Real romantic. True family values.”

  She straightened, and color rushed back into her cheeks. “Just stop. I can’t discuss this right now. My daughter’s life is in danger. I don’t want to argue about how she was conceived.”

  He shrugged. “Not my problem anyway.” Besides, talking about Kat’s kid was making him sick to his stom
ach. Chinese terrorists were much easier to deal with. “Let’s talk about what to expect when they call.”

  In hopes of keeping her calm, Dillon ran her through as many potential scenarios as he could before the burner phone rang. Her eyes widened like a deer in the headlights at the sound. Covering his finger with his shirt to avoid leaving a print, he pushed Talk and Speaker and then nodded at her.

  “H-Hello?”

  “Ms. MacKenzie?”

  “Yes. You assholes! I want my daughter back. If you hurt her, I swear—”

  So much for practicing calm. Quickly, Dillon sat down beside her, patted her leg, and shook his head.

  Kat glared at him but softened her tone. “Please don’t hurt her. She’s just a baby.”

  “Skye’s fate rests in your hands.”

  The man’s voice revealed no emotion or accent. The words were distinctly enunciated. Probably not a native English speaker. Dillon frowned. How did they know the baby’s name? Maybe Aileen or Craig had said it.

  “What do you want?” Kat asked.

  “First, introduce me to the gentleman there with you.”

  “Mr. O’Malley is…a friend.”

  “Your boyfriend?”

  They were looking for an emotional connection to exploit. “No,” Dillon intervened. “Just an old friend. What do you want from Ms. MacKenzie?”

  “We need her help and your assurance that you won’t interfere. If you do as we instruct, Skye will be fine.”

  “Why should Ms. MacKenzie trust you? You’ve already attacked her twice,” Dillon said.

  The man hesitated. “Those were bad decisions that led to unfortunate actions. The person responsible has been…replaced. Regardless, I don’t think Ms. MacKenzie has any choice.”

  “Only the scum of the earth would threaten an innocent baby,” Dillon spat.

  Now it was Kat’s turn to pat his leg and shake her head.

  “What do you want from me?” she asked in a calm voice.

  “I don’t think you’ll find this as repugnant as you anticipate. We need you to stop…a disaster, one that would have global implications.”

  “Global? As in World War III?” Dillon asked.

  “Very astute, Mr. O’Malley. We need Ms. MacKenzie to stop the person who wants to precipitate this catastrophic event.”

  “Are you talking about Asad Farook?” Kat asked.

  * * *

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mumbled as he typed.

  Those Chinese assholes thought they were so smart, but he’d outsmarted them. They believed they could buy their way into an American nuclear power plant to learn how to sabotage one at a future time. He’d offered them Diablo Beach as their guinea pig, and they’d fallen for his scheme.

  They wanted to be able to hold the United States hostage under the threat of a nuclear meltdown. They had no idea what he wanted.

  He laughed.

  He hated China and the US. The former for what it had done, and the latter for what it hadn’t done. Now he would get revenge on both at the same time. It wasn’t as if one country would win and the other lose. There were no winners in a nuclear war.

  God, his plan had worked perfectly. Well, almost perfectly.

  If Kat MacKenzie hadn’t been such a responsible, conscientious employee, the discrepancies would’ve gone unnoticed. But no. She had to act as if Diablo Beach’s operations had to run according to the book even during the excruciatingly long decommissioning process. He’d purposefully taken the job at Diablo Beach because he expected less scrutiny and lax security. He wasn’t going to let some do-gooder ruin his plans.

  No way. He’d worked years to become an expert programmer. His computer skills would be classified as extraordinary. But he’d been smart enough to take a menial job at the facility so his skills wouldn’t be apparent. Yeah, working under the radar until he could develop the opportunity had been über-smart.

  Unfortunately, because the Chinese had been so inept at getting rid of Kat, he now had to accelerate his plans. No matter. He was ready.

  Locking the assholes out of the system tonight had made the future inevitable. It wouldn’t take them long to figure out what was happening. That meant no turning back.

  He pumped his fist. Full speed ahead to Armageddon.

  * * *

  “No, Ms. MacKenzie. Mr. Farook is just a decoy.”

  So Dillon’s suspicions were right. “Who then?”

  “Your friend, Charles Lee.”

  She gasped. “Charlie’s a security guard.”

  “That’s his cover. Clever, if I must say so. No one has ever suspected him of having masterful computer skills.”

  Not friendly Charlie. Talkative, companionable Charlie. Brought-me-flowers Charlie. “So Charlie’s been your inside man the whole time? The person who’s been letting you into the Diablo Beach computer system?” she asked incredulously. “Why would he do that?”

  “What’s the motivation behind most criminal acts, Ms. MacKenzie? Money, of course.”

  “Has something happened to your profitable partnership?” Dillon asked.

  “You might say Mr. Lee has gone rogue.”

  “Which means?”

  “A few hours ago, Mr. Lee took over the computer system and locked us out,” the caller explained.

  “Shit.”

  “Precisely.”

  “Maybe he just wants more money.”

  “We offered. He didn’t respond.”

  “Maybe he’s changed his mind about helping you. He could’ve decided he doesn’t want to be a traitor.”

  “I sincerely doubt that. In truth, we suspect he’s reprogramming the system for a meltdown, disguised to look as if the software changes originated with us. So we’ll be blamed.”

  “That’s what you were experimenting with doing. Hypocritical of you, isn’t it? And by ‘you,’ I mean the Chinese government,” Dillon said.

  “Don’t get belligerent, Mr. O’Malley. We need to move quickly—to save thousands of Americans…and one baby girl.”

  Kat’s breath caught. “I’m not a computer whiz. How am I supposed to stop Charlie?”

  “Kill him.”

  Her jaw dropped, and her mind went blank.

  “We left a gun and ammunition under your pillow.”

  “I-I c-can’t kill Charlie.”

  “Think of Skye, Ms. MacKenzie. Think of all the people you’ll save. Doesn’t the saving of thousands justify the death of one?”

  “Leave her alone!” Dillon growled. “I’ll do it.”

  Chapter 24

  Kat gasped and grabbed his arm. “I can’t let you do it, Dillon.”

  “Not your decision.” He shook off her hand. He needed his intense focus right now, and her touch distracted him way too much.

  “You may not be her boyfriend, Mr. O’Malley, but you’re apparently a very good friend. Killing Mr. Lee means you’re willing to risk jail or worse to save Ms. MacKenzie’s daughter.”

  “I said I’d do it, asshole. Take it or leave it.”

  “Actually, we don’t care who does it as long as Mr. Lee is disposed of. You must act quickly though.”

  “How quickly?”

  “Tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Kat echoed. “We need time to plan.”

  Dillon cocked his head at the “we.” She smiled in return.

  “Time is a luxury we don’t have, Ms. MacKenzie. We’re confident Mr. Lee is setting the stage for a meltdown as we speak. I should also warn you not to involve the authorities in any way. Unless you want this to become a diplomatic nightmare.”

  “The Chinese government blackmailing a private American citizen to murder someone isn’t?”

  “Not if no one knows. Remember, we’ll be watching, Mr. O’Malley. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your daughter.”

  “Skye isn’t my daughter,” he said bitterly. “Remember, her mother and I are just old friends.”

  “Of course.”

  “When and how do I get Skye ba
ck?” Kat asked.

  “We’ll contact you at your house with instructions once you’ve completed your task. This phone will be our only means of communication.” He disconnected the call.

  “Your task sounds like we’ve been told to take out the trash,” she said dejectedly.

  “In a way, we are taking out the trash: Charlie is definitely garbage.”

  “What do we do now?”

  The pleading in her eyes just about broke his heart. He could lie and blow smoke-filled platitudes at her about how everything was going to be okay. But he was far from confident that they were so he thought it kinder not to get her hopes up. The Chinese had a reputation for not keeping their end of a deal—similar to the Iranians and North Koreans—giving him little confidence Skye would be returned safely even if he killed Charlie Lee. They also had a reputation for leaving no loose ends, which meant he and Kat could end up dead after fulfilling their task. Absolutely none of it gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling.

  “I need to make some phone calls,” he finally answered.

  “Who? Chaos?”

  “For starters.”

  She grabbed his arm again, but this time he let her hold on. He could use a little distraction as much as she could. He’d love to take her away from all this by kissing her lush, trembling lips, but that might send the wrong message. Things were complicated enough already.

  “You’re not going to call the FBI, are you? They said no authorities.” Fear for her daughter punctuated each word with an exclamation mark.

  “Look, Kat. We need backup. You understand we can’t trust these guys, right?”

  “What are you saying? They won’t give Skye back? They can’t do that. It’s not fair. She’s just a baby. Oh God, Dillon. This can’t be happening.” Panic blended with her fear, drawing hysteria visibly close to the surface.

  He wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “That’s reality, babe. So I want to do this in a way that gives us some leverage against them. If I just march into Diablo Beach and blow Charlie away, we have no leverage.”

  “But…but what about all the evidence you have?”

  He kissed her forehead. “Now you’re thinking. When they hear what he’s done, the US authorities will be just as happy to be rid of Charlie Lee as the Chinese are. For TSK’s evidence to act as leverage though, the good guys need to know about it before we act.”