“Stop.” Agent Kelly and Agent Bakker shouted together.
“Don’t think I won’t shoot you.” Agent Bakker had moved close to him.
Partlan reached into his jacket for a card.
Agent Bakker took a step closer and pulled the trigger of his weapon.
The loud retort of a gun ripped through the air.
Pain shot through Partlan’s shoulder. He took a step back and looked down at the blood seeping through his upper left chest. It left a trail down the front of his torn shirt and his skin was blackened around a small hole where the bullet had entered. He looked up at Agent Kelly and saw the dismay on her face. He sent her a wave of forgiveness. He could not blame her. Her laws might be wrong, but it was her duty to follow them. Just as it was his duty to leave. He took an unsteady step backwards.
“I’ll shoot again.” Agent Bakker’s voice was cold.
Before Partlan could take another step, the door opened and two FBI agents rushed in. They grabbed him. He fought them off and turned away just as another agent pushed him to the ground. A searing pain ripped through his shoulder and for a second he thought he’d been shot again. He recognized the agent who’d tackled him and was pressing his hand against his wound. It was Agent Smythe.
Partlan struggled to get up, but another two other agents jumped on him. He was losing blood and a wave of weakness washed over him. He was finding it harder to breath and he did not think he would be able to prevent his imprisonment. He closed his eyes and sent out a mind connection to Ardal, his leader, to let him know of his capture. Before he could finish his report, a jolt of massive energy pulsed through him.
Every muscle in his body went rigid.
Immense pain followed.
The last thing he heard was Agent Kelly’s voice. There was a note of panic in her tone. “Call an ambulance.”
Chapter 2
The gunshot reverberated around the room.
Blood oozed from Partlan’s chest and that’s when the reality of the situation hit her. Agent Grace Kelly shuddered as a wave of revulsion skittered through her body. Her stomach churned with nausea. She’d been involved in shoot outs with criminals before, but never had she’d experienced this gut wrenching panic. It was primal in its intensity. It was as if she’d been shot herself, which was ridiculous.
She watched Smythe subdue the prisoner, pushing his hand against the wound in Partlan’s chest. The man was a sadist. Then Smythe brought out his stun gun and held it against Partlan’s side and shocked him until his body jerked in response. The words froze in her throat as she tried to scream at Smythe to stop. She shook with reaction.
Partlan looked up at her.
There was acceptance in his eyes.
“Call an ambulance.” It was her voice, but the words sounded as if they’d come from someone else.
She rushed to Partlan and pushed Smythe off his limp body. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“Best to play it safe with this one.” Smythe stood and kicked Partlan in the side.
“Is that necessary?” Nikki Nevins voice rose in outrage. “The man brought our son back to us and this is the best you can do?”
“He’s a criminal.” Agent Smythe straightened his dark suit coat. “You should thank us for making the world a safer place.”
“He made it safer, not you.” Nikki turned to her sobbing son and pulled him into her arms. “The only thing the FBI has done is lose our money and let our son’s kidnappers get away. Now you’ve exposed Gates to horrific violence. I’m sorry we ever called you in for help.”
“Your son is alive.” Smythe spoke without emotion. “Do you know how rare that is in a kidnapping?”
“Enough.”
Grace used her most authoritative tone. The situation was deteriorating faster than she could control. An agent in charge never allowed that. She straightened her shoulders and let her training take over.
“Smythe you can leave. Contact the field office and apprise them of the new developments.”
For a second she thought he was going to disobey a direct order. He looked at her, his brown eyes narrowed and then he shrugged. He left the room with a slam of the door. Bakker had holstered his weapon and was on the floor beside Partlan. He pulled a pistol out of Partlan’s waistband and put it into a clear evidence bag.
“I thought he was reaching for his gun.”
“Well it wasn’t in his upper pocket.” Grace subdued a shiver that raced across her body. “What was he trying to get?”
Bakker reached into the pocket of Partlan’s green military style vest and pulled out a piece of paper. “It’s a business card.”
He handed Grace the card. She looked down at the light beige stock and noted the print. There was only one line. aHunter4Hire.com. Nothing else. This must have been how Selena had contacted them.
“Should I cuff him?” Bakker picked up the cuffs she had thrown at Partlan. They were on the rug beside him.
“He’s not going anywhere.”
Bakker nodded and continued to search Partlan’s pockets. Grace forced her eyes away. Looking at Partlan was causing her insides to twist. It wasn’t the sight of blood, or an unconscious prisoner that upset her. It was the lifelessness of his body. He affected her like no other man had ever done before. It was as if his misery, was hers.
She turned back to the Walters family. Steve was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Nikki was holding her son close and running a comforting hand over his head. Anger and disbelief flashed from Nikki’s eyes. Grace cleared her throat. No matter how she felt, she was still a Federal Agent and responsible for the welfare of these people.
“I’m sorry for the disturbance.”
“You call shooting a man in my living room a disturbance?” Steve Walters’ lip curled into a sneer. “I’ll be billing the FBI for damages.”
“That’s understandable Mr. Walters. As soon as the ambulance arrives, we’ll be out of here.” Grace gestured toward Partlan. “He gave us no choice.”
“He didn’t threaten you.” Nikki’s voice sounded brittle. “You could have let him go.”
“That wasn’t possible. Agent Bakker shot because he thought Partlan was going for a weapon.”
Grace whispered the words as she turned back to her prisoner. He was still motionless on the floral area rug where he’d fallen. His breathing was ragged and there were bubbles coming from his wound. She knelt beside him and pressed her hand against his wound to slow the blood and air loss. Already his shirt was bright red and there were splatters of blood on the rug. He looked lifeless, but she could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her hand.
She willed him to hold on. He might be a criminal, but he didn’t deserve to die. The siren of an approaching ambulance eased some of the tension that was building within her. She had too many questions. She needed him alive. None of his answers would explain the connection she felt with him, though.
He was a stranger she’d only met a couple of days ago.
She felt as if he were the only person she had ever known.
The paramedics rushed into the room. They rolled him over to check for an exit wound, but there was none. The next few minutes were taken up with applying a clear bandage over the wound and then trying to lift Partlan onto the stretcher. It took four of them and when he was situated on it, they rolled him out of the room. Grace kept pace with them. She wasn’t about to let anyone else have access to Partlan, or give him a chance to escape.
“Tell Smythe to finish here.” Grace issued her orders to Bakker as she climbed into the back of the ambulance with the paramedics. “You head back to the office. You’ll need to hand in your weapon and make a report. As soon as I know the prisoner’s condition, I’ll debrief you.”
Bakker nodded and turned back to the house just as the rear door of the ambulance shut the rest of the world out. The vehicle drove away with siren and lights on. The paramedic in the rear with her, grabbed one of Partlan’s arms and inserted
an IV. He hooked up a bag of saline and then cut off Partlan’s shirt and camo vest so he could hook up electrodes to his chest.
For the first time, she was able to see the full extent of the damage done to Partlan. The 9mm bullet had ripped a smooth hole through his chest. The area was surrounded by a ring of abrasion and gunshot residue. She swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat. She’d seen gun wounds before, but they’d never affected her like this one.
Partlan was a confessed vigilante with no respect for the law, so why did she care? For a brief second, she wondered if she’d done the right thing trying to arrest him. She could have let him walk away. He’d brought down a huge child trafficking ring and captured two kidnappers. In most people’s eyes, he was a hero.
A groan brought her attention back to her prisoner. His eyelids fluttered and he looked straight at her. Her breath caught in her throat at the intense compassion and acceptance she saw deep in his dark eyes.
“Do not blame yourself.” His words were a hoarse whisper before his lids closed and his head rolled to the side.
Alarms screeched.
The paramedic jumped up and started CPR. “We’re losing him. Can you do this while I set up the defibrillator?”
There was no time for thought, only action. Grace took over the compressions. She counted them out in her head, one, two, three, until she lost all sense of time as her first aid training kicked in. The paramedic worked beside her and she heard the whining sound of the machine charging up. “Clear.” His command reverberated through the ambulance.
Grace removed her hands.
The paddles were placed on his chest.
It took three jolts before the steady rhythm of a heartbeat sounded on the monitor. The paramedic stepped back and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his uniform just as the ambulance pulled into the hospital. Grace was pushed aside as the stretcher was unloaded and Partlan was rushed into the emergency. She sagged against the back of the ambulance and fought for breath.
It was crazy, but when Partlan had crashed, she’d thought she was dying. Her hands were shaking. She shoved them into the pockets of her suit coat. She exhaled and straightened her shoulders. She had struggled long and hard to gain the respect of her peers and supervisors. She wasn’t going to lose it now. She had a job to do. It didn’t matter how she was affected by her prisoner. She went through the hospital doors and pulled out her credentials. She was taking control of herself and the prisoner.
Once the hospital had been informed that their patient was a prisoner, she contacted the field office and arranged to have a guard for him. The emergency room doctor had already advised her that Partlan had gone straight to surgery and it would be several hours before she’d hear anything about his condition. She fought the urge to stay. She was still the agent in charge. She needed to get to the Walters’ house to debrief her agents and the family before this got out of control.
When she reached the Beverly Hills mansion, there were a number of agents loading computers and equipment into agency vans. She went in and saw that most of their control room was cleared out. Smythe was standing in the doorway and barking out orders. She braced herself for a confrontation.
“Is he going to live?” Smythe’s tone was derogatory. “Or is the world a safer place?”
Grace took a deep breath and tamped down her anger. She knew Smythe thought he was doing his job, but the force he’d used had been excessive. It wouldn’t matter to his career, though. He could claim that he had perceived a threat and taken the necessary action. The fact that Partlan had disarmed her the first time she had met him, would add credence to his claim.
“He crashed on the way to the hospital. They stabilized him and he’s in surgery now. We need to talk.”
“What’s the problem?”
“You didn’t have to shock him. He was already on the ground.” Grace kept her tone neutral. “The kick was unprofessional.”
“He’s stronger than three men put together. I wasn’t taking any chances.” Smythe crossed his arms over his chest. “It was my call. I’m sure the Chief won’t have a problem with it.”
“I have no choice but to put this in my report.”
“I wouldn’t expect less of you Kelly.” Smythe turned back to the control room. “The family’s waiting in the living room. Bakker debriefed them before he left.”
She squared her shoulders and went to meet with the Walters. Nikki Nevins had already made her position about arresting Partlan very clear. What Grace needed to do was calm the family down and assure them that the FBI was working in the best interest of the public’s safety.
The family were seated on the couch when she entered the living room. The rug Partlan had fallen on, and stained with his blood, had been removed. Everything else was the same. She took a deep breath and forced a smile to her face.
“Is he going to be okay?” Gates small voice trembled.
“He’s in surgery now, but he should pull through.” Grace kept her tone optimistic. She wouldn’t allow herself to think of what the consequences might be if he died.
“What do you want Agent Kelly?” Nikki’s voice was devoid of emotion.
“We are clearing our equipment out of your house and I wanted to be certain that you will be able to handle things once we’re gone.”
“My son has been returned alive.” Nikki pursed her lips. “The way his rescuer was handled is another matter.”
“We will be investigating everything that Partlan did to get your son back.” Grace walked closer to the family. “We know that people were killed in the execution of Gates’s rescue. I need to be certain that Partlan wasn’t involved in anything criminal.”
Steve Walters leaned forward. “When can we have our house back?”
“Within the hour.” Grace cleared her throat. “Is there anything else we can do for you?”
“I think you’ve done more than enough.” Nikki turned away from Grace.
“I wanted to tell you how happy I am that Gates was returned to you alive.” Grace looked down for a second before facing the family again. “It’s not often that we have such a happy outcome.”
“After seeing how you work, I can understand that.” Nikki’s voice was a sharp reprimand.
Grace nodded and left the room. There was nothing else she could say. They were unhappy about the shooting and she couldn’t blame them. Hopefully they would focus on how lucky they were to have Gates returned alive. Usually the outcome of a kidnapping ended in death. They had their son back and they would soon get over the inconvenience of having their house overrun by Federal Agents. Maybe one day they’d even forget that a man had been shot in their living room.
Grace would remember it the rest of her life.
She waited until everything had been cleared out of the house and her agents had returned to the office before going back to the hospital. It was her responsibility to make certain the prisoner survived. This one was personal. Deep within her was a need to know if he lived. She sensed he still did, but she needed the doctors to tell her he was alive.
She sat in one of the faux suede chairs in the surgery waiting room. She’d informed the nurses that she would need to speak with the surgeon when he was finished. Now all she could do was wait. She leaned back and shut her eyes. The shooting kept replaying in her mind. It was useless to try and rest. She pulled out her phone and started to check emails.
It was several hours later before she heard anything about Partlan’s condition.
The surgeon walked into the waiting room still in surgical scrubs. Grace put away her cell phone and went over to him.
“I’m Special Agent Kelly.” She held her hand out and shook his hand. “How’s my prisoner?”
“He’ll survive.” The surgeon crossed his arms over his chest. “I would have thought the bullet would have been enough to stop him. Shocking him was a bit excessive.”
“I’ve talked to the agent responsible.”
“You can tell him from me that he p
robably caused your prisoner’s heart to stop. Next time he needs to have a bit more care before using that thing on an already wounded man.”
She shifted on her feet. “He was in the ambulance before his heart stopped.”
“That jolt of electricity didn’t help. He was already losing blood from the bullet wound and his lungs were compromised. It’s lucky he’s in perfect physical condition.”
“How long before I can see him?”
Grace glanced down at her watch. It was already late afternoon. She’d have to get back to the office to make sure the final statements and debriefing had been handled.
“He’s not going anywhere tonight.” The surgeon’s voice was serious. “He’ll be in Intensive Care until tomorrow and then we’ll transfer him to a regular room.”
“I need to set up a security detail.”
“Not in the ICU. You can have someone outside the waiting room door, but that’s the only concession I’ll make. My patient isn’t in any condition to escape.” The surgeon turned to leave and then stopped. “What did he do?”
Grace swallowed. “He was returning a boy who’d been kidnapped. When I ordered him to stop, he reached into his pocket.”
The surgeon raised an eyebrow. “Did he pull a weapon out?”
“He was resisting arrest.” Grace’s tone was defensive.
“I’ll take that as a negative.” The surgeon shook his head and left the waiting room.
Grace pulled out her phone. She’d spent enough time going over the scenario in her mind. Partlan had left them no choice. All he had to do was stop. Instead, he’d refused, and walked away. He might consider everything he’d done justified, but it was her duty to defend the law, not flaunt it. That didn’t explain why her stomach was tied in knots and refused to settle.
The image of his face in the ambulance was etched in her memory.
His words would haunt her forever.
She gripped the phone tighter. She had work to do. Standing here berating herself for doing her duty wasn’t getting any of it done. The debriefing of the Walters hadn’t gone well, so she needed to arrange to speak to them tomorrow. After they’d had a chance to realize how lucky they were to get their son back, they’d be more likely to see how right the FBI had been. There was no place for vigilante justice in the world.
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