After lunch, Marco had set them up to begin working as a team—one unit—which would eventually have them functioning as a well-oiled machine. Every one of them had worked in teams before, either in the military or law enforcement, but it would take a while for them to learn each new teammate’s style, line of thinking, strengths, and weaknesses.
Dressed in black combat pants and T-shirts, and loaded to the gills with gear and non-lethal weapons, they were ready to go in and find their tango. Boomer would be donning protective eye and ear wear, so the team would be able to deploy a flash-bang grenade if warranted. Their guns were replaced with a new line of simulated ones, which felt, sounded, and reacted the same way a real one would, including a kick when fired. The differences being they were bright red, for safety reasons, and used lasers to shoot their targets. The ‘tango’ and ‘hostage’ were wearing light-weight jumpsuits and ski masks, which would register any shots that hit their mark. Boomer would feel a mild vibration anywhere he was ‘shot’.
The interior of the building had been completely coated with a special, black paint. If the laser shots hit the walls, ceiling, or floor, a colored dot would show up when a purple fluorescent light was scanned over them. Marco would have to do that quickly after the scene was shut down, as the marks would fade after fifteen to twenty minutes until they were completely gone. But he should only need to scan one room this time. Each team members’ shot would register a different color, so they knew whose went where.
After giving Boomer a few seconds to hide, Marco shouted, “All right, team! Your tango has a hostage—in this case, a blow-up doll known as Naughty Nurse Betty, with a lousy makeup job and perky tits. And Baby Boomer refuses to be taken down. Go rescue the hostage, without deflating her, and get your tango, dead or alive. Move out!”
As three team members rushed to the front entrance, two went around to the rear door. Marco followed the trio from a distance. He forced himself to concentrate on the ‘rescue’ and not on Harper being in her office, out from the protection of the compound. Yeah, she had two bodyguards from Blackhawk Security on her, but he was still uneasy about it. He had to get over it, though, if they were going to have some sort of normalcy again in their lives. A little while ago, he’d run into Kristen, who’d been heading over to Harper’s law practice. They were having a video conference with the attorney in New Jersey they were using for her asshole ex-husband’s lawsuit. The local lawyer had apparently found some interesting evidence to use to fight the demand for half of Kristen’s book royalties.
Taking a few steps into the building, he shut the door behind him, plunging them all into complete darkness so their night-vision goggles could be utilized. With headsets on, the team spoke quietly to each other as they cleared the rooms one-by-one. Marco was like the rest of them at the moment, having no clue which room Boomer had chosen. Many of the interior walls could be moved to create different setups, so the teams wouldn’t get complacent with their training.
On the second floor, Foster was the lead heading into a room, when shouts and gunfire rang out. Within thirty seconds, the chaos died down, along with the ‘tango’, who’d been hit in the head and chest by the lasers. The ‘hostage’ had survived.
“Good job,” Marco praised. “But next time, Boomer’s going to be shooting back at you with paintball pellets, and then we’ll see how good you are.” He unclipped the fluorescent light wand from his utility belt and waved it over the walls and floor. There were only two dots in different colors on one wall, but that was to be expected when firing on a moving subject. Contrary to what Hollywood wanted people to believe, it was actually not that easy to do under pressure, despite a team being highly trained.
After making sure everyone had removed their night vision goggles, Marco walked over to the window to let some light in. As he pulled the blackout curtain to the side, Boomer’s cell phone rang. The goofball was still laying prone on the floor where he ‘died’ and rolled to his side to retrieve the phone from his front pocket. “Yo!” There was a pause and then he kicked Marco’s leg to get his attention. “Hey! Where’s your phone?”
His hand immediately went to his hip and remembered he’d left his cell on a picnic table outside the building, along with some of the equipment. His first thought was something had happened to Harper or Mara. Panic assailed him. “Shit. What’s wrong?”
“Chill. It’s the front gate. Jake’s snitch is here to talk to you.”
He hadn’t heard from Todd Wheeler since the day after Jake told him the kid was doing some snooping of his own. Hoping they finally had a new lead to check out, he left Boomer to finish the scene’s aftermath evaluation, and jogged toward the front gate, grabbing his phone on the way. Bringing Todd into the Trident offices, he pointed toward the conference room as they passed the reception desk. “Colleen, can you send Dev and Ian in, ASAP?”
“They’re in Ian’s office with Dr. Dunbar,” she informed him.
“Then send her in, too.”
Todd took a seat and Marco strode to the opposite side of the conference table, sitting across from the nineteen-year-old. “What’d you find out?”
The skinny kid leaned on his forearms on the table. “One of my old street buddies called me a little while ago. He would’ve called sooner, but hadn’t heard I was looking for info. He was at a party…” Todd paused as Ian, Devon, and Trudy Dunbar entered the room and took seats at the table in silence. “Anyway, my buddy was at a party the other night and said there was this high, drunk dude, bragging about how he was going to be coming into money as soon as he offed some chick. Said they tried to blow her up, but she got lucky.”
“Shit,” Devon spat. “Please tell me your buddy knows this asshole’s name.”
Todd shook his head. “No, sorry. He never met the guy before and didn’t know it was important at the time, but does the name Paula mean anything to you?”
The name didn’t mean anything to Trudy, but the three operators glanced at each other in shock. It wasn’t that common a name and none of them believed it was a coincidence. Ian was the first to recover. “Yeah, why?
“Apparently, he started bitching about the person who hired him. Kept saying that name—Paula—and what a bitch she was. The only reason he was putting up with it was because he was going to cash out big time when it was over. He even said something about her being crazy and that she killed someone else, but didn’t say who or where.” He paused as his head swiveled so he could see everyone else’s face. “So who is she?”
Ian stood and dug his wallet out of his back pocket. Handing Todd a $100 bill and a Trident business card, he answered, “Someone who’s going to wish she’d never laid eyes on any of us. Thanks for the info. If you hear anything else, let me know. My cell number is on the card.”
Knowing he was being dismissed, Todd stood, pocketed the card and money, then headed for the door. “No prob. Say hi to Jenn and Alyssa for me. I haven’t seen them since Christmas.” Having no immediate family, the team had invited him for the holidays, after he’d given Jake information on Alyssa’s father, who was trying to kill her after abusing her for years.
Fury boiling within him, Marco barely waited until the kid was out of earshot before slamming his fist on the table. “I’m going to fucking kill her!”
“Calm down, Polo. Colleen! Get both teams in here!
“Yes, Sir” was the startled response from the reception area to Ian’s bellowing.
Checking his cell for a number, Ian pulled the room’s landline phone toward him on the table, hit the speaker button, and dialed a number. After three rings, it was answered and they could hear the squawking of police radios in the background. “What is it, Sawyer? I’m kind of busy.”
Ian set his hands on the table and leaned forward. “I don’t care, Murdock. I think we know who’s behind the bomb and assault.”
“Shit! Who?”
“A former female employee who has had an infatuation for Marco in the past.” The team members started filtering
in with curious looks on their faces, including Babs who’d just come in from the garage. “She was our secretary and fired for being too fucking nosy. None of us suspected it had gone this far, though. I think she was the one who offed the bomber, too.”
One of the last ones to enter, Brody took a seat next to the very pissed off, but still stunned, Marco. He leaned toward his best friend and whispered, “What’s he talking about?
Ian held up his hand to silence any chatter as the detective’s voice came over the speaker. “All right. Text me the info, but unless it’s an emergency, it’s going to have to wait. I just pulled up on a domestic homicide. I’ll send someone to pick her up as soon as I can.”
“That’s—”
“That’s fine,” Boss-man replied, cutting off Marco’s intended rant as he stood, sending the chair he’d been in flying backward on its casters, causing the entire room to stare at him. “Let me know when they have her.”
Despite sounding distracted, Murdock acknowledged him and Ian disconnected the call. He glared at Marco. “Stand down, Polo. He’s got his hands full, but it doesn’t mean we can’t go get her ourselves.”
“Someone mind filling us in?” Boomer asked, clearly as confused as Brody and the Omega team were.
Too livid to explain, Marco lifted his hand in a gesture for Ian to tell them. The boss straightened to his full height and crossed his arms. “We know who’s behind the attacks on Harper…Paula Leighton.”
“What! Are you fucking shitting us?”
Ian rolled his eyes at the youngest member of the original Trident team. “Do I sound like I’m fucking shitting you, Baby Boomer?”
“Holy fuck.” Brody’s murmur was filled with the shock Marco was still feeling.
Eyeing the new team, Ian filled them, and the psychologist, in about the former secretary whose workplace crush seemed to have taken over what little sanity they now realized she had.
* * *
As Harper disconnected the video conference call with her old law school friend, Kristen sat back in her chair. “So my bastard ex-husband stole money from his clients, lost it gambling—which I didn’t know he was into by the way—and is now suing me to refill the coffers before the authorities find out.”
Nodding, Harper finished writing a quick note in Kristen’s file. “That’s about it in a nutshell. Stephanie will have her investigator bring everything to Tom’s company before the day is out, and then work with them to report it to the police in New York City. With all the evidence the investigator has already uncovered, I wouldn’t be surprised if Tom’s arrested by the middle of next week after they verify everything.”
“So the lawsuit will be dropped?”
Standing, Harper walked over to the mini-fridge she kept in her office to grab a can of Diet Coke. Kristen shook her head in silent refusal when she held one up to her. After shutting the door, she sat behind the desk again. “I’m afraid not. At least not that fast. He may decide to continue since he’s going to need the funds to finance his defense campaign. But Stephanie will keep filing motions to hold it up as long as possible.” She took a sip of the cool liquid. “And if it does end up before a judge, you heard what she said. She doubts a judge would find in his favor since we have plenty of witnesses who’ll state he told you to keep the little profits your books made.”
Kristen snorted. “Yeah. He was pretty shocked at the divorce proceedings when he found out how ‘little’ those profits were. Not.”
“Speaking of which, I heard Velvet Vixen climbed into the top ten on the New York Times Best Sellers list. That’s awesome since it was just released last week. Congrats.”
The woman beamed and she had every right to be proud because it was a huge accomplishment most authors never came close to, much less achieved. “Thanks. I think the interview I did for Good Morning America on the release day had a lot to do with it. Oh, and guess what?” Her eyes opened wide as excitement seemed to pour from her. She didn’t even pause for Harper to answer her. “I forgot to tell you! I’m so excited. I’m going to be on The Ellen DeGeneres Show! Can you believe that? Me…on Ellen…I watch her every day!”
“That’s great. When?”
“Next month, as long as my OB/GYN clears me to fly, which is a Devon demand. I tried to tell him that there’s nothing to worry about until my last trimester, but Master Devon wasn’t having any of that.” She glanced at her watch and stood, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair. “Speaking of the devil Dom, I need to stop at that gourmet butcher shop he likes for some steaks. This kid has to be a boy, because why else would I be craving beef for the past week? The good thing about it is Devon insists on grilling them, so all I have to do is throw together a side and salad.”
Harper stood as well, picking up Kristen’s file to give to her secretary. Her practice was on the bottom floor of a three-story Victorian house which had been converted into offices. The second floor was used by a massage therapist, who was also skilled in acupuncture, but her appointment hours varied. The top floor office was currently unoccupied and the landlord had a sign out front, advertising the available space. The building was on a quiet side street, off the main drag, and was separated from the local library by a large parking lot and about twenty yards of trees and shrubs. On the other side of the house, there were three undeveloped lots before a residential neighborhood began. While she lived in Clearwater, this area was actually just over the Tampa border.
Opening the door to her office, they found her paralegal, Monica, had come out of her own office and was chatting with Joanie, their secretary. One of the bodyguards, Jerry, who’d driven Harper to work both days, was standing against the wall next to the door. She’d tried to convince him to take a seat yesterday, but he’d refused, saying he could respond faster while standing. His partner, Lucy, was outside in the parking lot, sitting in their car. They rotated every half hour to let the other person sit for a while.
Harper was just about to hand Kristen’s file to Joanie when the main door to the office opened. Everyone looked to see who was walking in, but all they saw was a hand come from the side and throw something into the large reception area. Before anyone could react, the room exploded with a blinding light and deafening boom. Losing her balance in the heels she wore, Harper fell backward, striking her head against the door jamb to her office, and then her world went black.
CHAPTER 22
“Egghead, find out where she’s living now and we’ll go pay her a visit.”
The geek was already way ahead of Ian’s order, typing furiously on his laptop while Marco dialed Harper’s cell number on his phone. She would recognize Paula if the nut job showed up at the law practice.
Damn it. No answer. She was probably still on the video call with the lawyer in New Jersey. Marco’s mind was flying in ten different directions. How hadn’t anyone figure this out before? “Fuck!”
Everyone stared at him when he slammed his palms on the table. “I fucking forgot all about this…shit! Back in the hospital…Harper said something about calling me a bunch of times.”
“Yeah, and we found out the blocks had been put on the phones,” Brody replied. “Paula had to have done it. She had all our cell numbers.”
“But after Harper couldn’t get me on my cell, she said she called here and left several messages with the secretary. Paula was still here back then. The bitch forged a fucking letter to Harper telling her I wanted nothing to do with her or Mara.”
Devon crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “So, everything that happened back then and now is all related. She’s probably the one who put the note and flower on your truck, too.”
“Ian?” All eyes turned to their secretary standing in the doorway. “Chase Dixon is on line two and he says it’s an emergency.”
Stabbing the speaker button on the landline once again, Ian connected the call. “Chase, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, man.” Everyone tensed at the worry and regret in the man’s voice. “I got a call
from my guy on Harper—”
Panicked, Marco dove across the room toward the phone. “What happened?”
“A flash-bang was thrown into office. Whoever it was, zapped everyone with a Taser, then zip-tied them. My guy managed to get out of the zips, called 911 and then me. Harper’s gone and Dev’s wife is alive but unconscious.”
“Fuck!” Devon ran out the door in sheer terror and Marco knew exactly how he felt.
Ian was obviously torn between staying and going after his brother, but he knew he was needed here—they had to get Harper back. He pointed to the door. “Batman, drive him, so he doesn’t crash on the way or kill anyone when he gets there. And call me when you know something!” His voice had increased in volume with each word as Darius sprinted through the office to the parking lot. “Chase, what else?”
“Everyone else is shaken up, but fine. My guard who was outside said some woman pulled in and was asking about the office to rent on the top floor. She caught Lucy off guard, zapped and zipped her, and then locked her in the trunk of the car. By the time she recovered and got out, it was all over. Suspect is driving a grey Honda Civic. Unknown Florida plate. She’s described as Caucasian, thirty to thirty-five, five-foot-six, one-eighty, shoulder-length brown hair, unknown eye color due to sunglasses. Wearing jeans, sneakers, and an oversized pink sweatshirt. Sound like anyone you know?”
The remaining members of Kristen’s Sexy Six-Pack glared at each other. Ian answered for all of them. “Yeah. We know exactly who that is. How long ago was this?”
“Fifteen, twenty minutes tops. I’m on my way to the scene.”
Brody began typing away on his laptop, hacking into the city’s traffic camera feeds. Marco wasn’t optimistic about spotting the vehicle on the system, though, since grey Honda Civics were a dime a dozen. The only reason his feet were still in the room was because he had absolutely no idea where to start looking for the Harper and the crazy-assed bitch. What if he never saw the woman he loved ever again? What the hell would he tell Mara as she got older and wanted to know where her mother was?
Watching From The Shadows: Trident Security Book 5 Page 21