Facing Home (The Clover Series Book 4)

by Danielle Stewart

  “We need to swap clothes,” I instruct Jonah as I start pulling my T-shirt over my head. Bill tosses a bulletproof vest over the seat at me and I start strapping it on.

  “Why are we changing clothes?” Jonah asks skeptically.

  “Because I need to look more,” I wave my hand at him, “boring I guess.”

  “This is a nice shirt. Bianca got this for me for Christmas.” He looks down at the blue and gray striped collared shirt and then his khakis. “Fine,” he says, seeming to reluctantly agree that his clothes are different enough from mine to make a difference in this.

  As we swap the rest of our clothes, I pull the letter from my bag. I look down at it and hesitate before handing it over. “I wrote this when I was deployed. It’s had your name on it a long time. It’s part of the reason Bianca decided not to kill you. I showed it to her when we were driving over to my parents’ house to send them off to Florida.”

  “What’s it say?” He looks nervous as he hesitantly takes it from my hand.

  “It’s just something to hold onto if anything should happen to me. I thought once I was home I wouldn’t need it anymore, but who am I kidding? I wouldn’t be happy unless I was in some kind of danger.” I try to lighten the moment, but Jonah ignores my humor. He tucks the letter into his pocket.

  “I’ll be giving that back to you today,” he assures me as he laces up the boots I just shoved over to him. “How do you wear these things? They are so damn heavy.”

  “I was just going to ask how you wear these sneakers. They’re so damn ugly.”

  He laughs but it’s cut short as Bill starts shouting loudly into his phone. Jonah leans over toward me. “You sure you can do this? With the flashbacks and stuff, do you think you are okay for this? You told me what happened after your car accident. What if something like that happens today?”

  “I’m fine.” I throw him a sideways look that tells him to drop it, and he does. “I can handle this.”

  “Son,” Bill says, and his round black eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror. “Tell me how you think this is going to play out. You know the players to some extent, and you know what’s at stake. How do you see this going?”

  I can tell by the penetrating look he’s giving me this is a loaded question. My answer will likely decide my readiness for this operation. Sure, he’s already tossed me a bulletproof vest, but that doesn’t mean he’s given me the green light yet.

  “Best case scenario is they don’t know we’ve been tipped off. They’ll be expecting an unarmed EPA agent and a civilian. Our best hope is they are arrogantly underprepared.”

  “And the hostage, Jordan?” Bill asks in a leading tone.

  I turn my head so I’m looking directly into Bill’s eyes and Jonah is outside of my peripheral vision. I don’t want to see even the flinch in his reaction. “She’s probably not going to be there. She’s likely dead already.”

  “Click!” Jonah’s voice is sharp and high, but I still don’t turn toward him. “Don’t think that,” he insists.

  “If these people are plotting to kill anyone involved in this in order to keep it quiet, they wouldn’t bother keeping her alive. By setting up the meeting and getting everyone else with knowledge in one secluded place, she’d have done all they required of her. She doesn’t serve any other purpose to them,” I say flatly, trying not to let an ounce of emotion show through.

  “That’s true,” Bill agrees. “But there is a small chance if they are worried about the other two people due at the meeting spooking they’ll bring her along. If they are desperate to end this tonight they’ll want to make sure everyone who should be there shows up, and having Jordan alive and present could help with that. But I agree, the odds of that are low. I was just wondering if you’d considered that.”

  “I’ve considered everything, sir. If Jordan isn’t on the scene, or even alive anymore, the best chance at bringing those involved to justice will be at that meeting today.”

  “Are we clear on what the word justice means, Marine?” Bill asks with a cocked eyebrow and a stern glare.

  “I’m no vigilante. Trust me. If I were going to take the law into my own hands I’ve had dozens of opportunities before this. I know my place today.” The words I’m saying are true but my conviction behind them feels hollow. While it’s true I’ve never crossed that line before, I feel less confident I won’t today. If I find they’ve hurt or killed Jordan, I won’t let a single one of them survive. And there won’t be anyone in the world capable of stopping me.

  “This is where you two part ways then. ATF agent Maggie Dorado is about to step into the car and you, Jonah, are about to step out. Maggie will be posing as Cynthia at the meeting. Jonah, another officer will escort you somewhere safe and you’ll be kept apprised as things unfold.

  “Thank you, sir,” Jonah says, reaching up to the front seat and shaking his hand. “Keep my brother safe please.” He nods his head toward me and then opens his door to step out.

  Bill looks over at Jonah, and though it seems against his better judgment, he says, “You’ll be with Cynthia. I . . .” He looks away awkwardly. “I’ve always kind of had a thing for her and intend to ask her out on a proper date when this is over.”

  “I’ll keep her safe,” Jonah assures but he is cut off abruptly by Bill’s husky laugh.

  “That’s not what I was saying. She’ll have plenty of agents there to do that for both of you. I’m just letting you know to keep your hands off. She’s mine.”

  Before Jonah can explain he’s a married man, Bill is speeding away and I have to lunge across the back seat to grab the door Jonah didn’t have time to shut. As we fly around a corner, the door I just slammed closed is quickly pulled back open. Hopping into the seat is a woman in her late twenties with raven-colored hair that is pulled back in the same fashion Cynthia’s was. She’s wearing a similar style suit. I watch as she slips out of her flat shoes and into a pair of high heels.

  “This is my least favorite part of today so far,” she huffs. “How the hell am I supposed to do my job on these stilts?”

  “You’ll be fine. You have your vest on?” Bill asks as he speeds around another corner.

  “Of course.”

  “Good, now you two get yourselves calibrated on the assignment. You’ll be out there on your own for the most part. I’ll have agents with eyes on you from various locations, ready to act if needed. But ultimately it will be on you two.”

  “Yes sir,” Maggie and I both say in unison. As I start to brief her on who I am, and what else I know about the situation, I push out all the thoughts I have on Jordan and what must be going through her mind right now, if she’s alive. None of that will help me save her, so I lock it away.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Jordan

  I should be terrified, but all I can muster right now is anger. I’m pissed, mostly at myself for the poor judgment in coming to Wes and how that might impact everyone else involved. While I’m confident my message was received by Jonah and Click, I don’t know what they’ll be able to do to protect themselves and Cynthia at this meeting.

  There are now four thugs in the SUV I’ve been thrown into, and I mean that quite literally. I’ve got the ache in my ribs where I collided with the console as proof of how little they care what happens to me. The man driving is of some Russian descent and he’s the angriest looking of all of them. I’m alone in the third row seat, my hands restrained with duct tape. They pull the truck into a gas station and I hear them arguing about who was supposed to fill it up before they left. The driver gets out and I pull my body up slightly to see the gas station is lively and full of people. If I were going to make a move and have any chance at escape it would have to be now.

  I’m the only bargaining chip they have. If I can get away there will be no need for the meeting. We can expose the information we have and take them all down. This is what is making me so pissed right now. I’m the only one who has put all of us in jeopardy.

  The other men all
step out of the car. Two go into the gas station and one walks off to light a cigarette. I can see the SUV doors are unlocked. They’ve given me no credit since the moment they captured me and maybe they are right not to, but I’m still going to try. I heave my body over the seat and back myself up to the door away from the man pumping the gas. I position my hands around the handle and pull it open. I tumble backward onto the hard cement but my adrenaline is pumping too hard for the pain to slow me down. I roll to my side and get awkwardly to my feet. I consider screaming, but as I look around I see a woman pushing a stroller and I’m too afraid these men will indiscriminately fire just to kill me. I couldn’t live with myself if anyone was killed in the crossfire. Instead I kick off my sky-high heels and take off running, charging as fast as my legs will take me away from the gas station.

  My eyes are locked on the small strip mall across the street and I keep telling myself if I can get there I’ll be fine. There will be endless places to hide. I just have to get there. As I dart across the street, cars squealing their brakes to avoid me, I see him. Wes jumps out of his sleek black Mercedes and he’s at my side before I can outrun him. His hand is tight on my arms, still secured by tape, and with no other choice now, I start screaming. Though every eye is on me, no one is making a move to free me from Wes’s tight grip as he drags me back toward his car. Although I kick and swing my head wildly, trying to get away, he proves too strong for me. Pushing me through the driver’s side door, he shoves my body until I’m in the passenger seat.

  “You always have to put up a fight don’t you, Jordan?” he accuses as he wipes the blood from a scratch I’ve left on his cheek just below his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you but you’re giving me no choice.”

  “You don’t want to hurt me, but you’re going to kill me,” I spit back as I try to unlock the door and get out. I’m not sure why I didn’t expect it since Wes seems to be in a position where he will stop at nothing, but when he throws the first punch at me I’m still shocked. It lands off target, striking my shoulder but it’s so powerful I can’t breathe for a moment. I duck my head the best I can, but without the use of my hands and arms, I am unable to shield my face from his repeated blows. As he slams the car into drive I get a small reprieve from his pummeling, but it isn’t until I slouch over, my body limp as I give up, that he finally stops.

  My ears are ringing, and I know the skin above my eye is cut. The partially healed cut on my forehead from the accident feels like it may have opened back up. I can taste my own blood from my split lip. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, feeling my head slip a little as my blood makes the glass slick.

  Wes has his phone to his ear, and though I’m dazed, I try as hard as I can to tune into his words. “You fucking idiots. You are so lucky I was behind you and saw her get out of the car. I gave you one job and between the four of you she still got away.” He pauses while they try to explain but quickly cuts back in. “Yeah, trust me she’s under control now. She won’t be getting away again. I pay you so I don’t have to do this kind of stuff. You know I don’t want to get my hands dirty in all this. Beating the shit out of girls is not my thing. Just get your asses to the meeting place. I want you to be there early. You need to get the jump on them. Now I’m wondering if you guys can even get this done. Can you kill these people or what? I’ll be close by watching.” He pauses again, listening to the person on the other end of the phone. “I don’t care if you said I should have already killed her and this wouldn’t have happened. It’s my call when we get rid of her. I’m not done with her yet.” He hangs up the phone and tosses it heavily into the cup holder. I feel his hand slap down on my thigh and part my legs but I’m too overcome with pain to stop him. “I’m not done with you yet. You and I have some unfinished business. I invested a couple months and some expensive dates on you and I want what I paid for,” he hisses as he slams my leg closed and puts his hand back on the steering wheel.

  A couple of stray tears roll down my face as I finally begin to realize how much trouble I might be in here. I don’t doubt for a second that Click is working, doing something, to try to get me back. But the chances are growing slimmer he’ll be successful at this point. And if Wes makes good on his innuendo, even if Click does save me, will I ever be the same?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Click

  I’m relieved to know Maggie is qualified and incredibly competent and I don’t doubt if this goes south she’s equipped to hold her own. That’s always a good feeling when entering these situations. You want to know you’ve got a good team. We’ve gotten word the site seems clear and the tactical team is in place. They’ve got eyes and ears all over the place and both Maggie and I are wired into their frequency. We can hear them and they can hear us. The code word for alerting them to take the shot is cavalry. I’m hoping it won’t come to that, but I’m too realistic to believe it won’t.

  I’ve got my weapon in a cross draw holster. Safety off, one in the chamber, and ready for anything. Maggie and I split up, both hopping into the cars the ATF has set up for us and driving the couple blocks toward the meeting site. I hear the tactical team updating us on what they see. A black SUV has just pulled in and, though the windows are tinted, through infrared scopes they’ve identified four people inside. No other cars have come to the large parking lot since the team has set up. It looks like this might be the only obstacle for us. If Jordan is one of the people in the SUV then Maggie and I are only outnumbered by one. That’s manageable.

  I hear Maggie’s voice come through the small speaker in my ear and she sounds as confident as I’m feeling. “Just one SUV. That’s too bad, I thought we’d actually have a challenge here today.”

  “I’m pulling in now,” I say as I turn into the opening in the chain link fence that leads behind the mill. “I’ve got eyes on the SUV.”

  “Right behind you, Click,” Maggie responds, and I see her car pulling down the road behind me. I pull up, parking strategically so the car is between me and the SUV for a layer of protection. The driver steps out of the SUV just as Maggie is pulling up. He’s a monster of a guy with a tattoo that creeps over the top of his shirt and up his neck.

  “Pretty cool spot to meet,” I say in a bit of a goofy voice as I look around as though I’m thoroughly impressed.

  The man who now stands by the driver’s side door of the SUV grunts, and I can tell he’s not going to be playing the part of someone who is meant to be at this meeting. He’s not making an effort to make me comfortable or convince me everything is all right. That means the only thing he is waiting for is Maggie to step out of the car so he can kill us both. Realizing there are likely multiple guns pointed at me from behind the tinted windows of the SUV, I turn and jog casually back toward Maggie’s car. “This must be Cynthia,” I say over my shoulder to the man, as if he’ll give a shit.

  When my back is turned on them I speak so the tactical team can hear me. “Cavalry, repeat cavalry. They’re not putting on a show here. Once they have a clear shot at us they’ll be ending this. They’ll want the second half of the flash drive Jordan told them about, but they don’t need us both alive to get that.”

  In my ear I hear the Tac Ops leader, Frank, speaking. “I’ve got a clear shot to the man outside the SUV but without knowing if there are hostages inside I can’t take shots at the vehicle. You’ll need to assess that and handle it on the ground. If they step out and we identify them as threats they will be neutralized from up here.”

  “Copy that,” Maggie says, but I don’t respond. I open her car door and she steps out with a fake smile. “I go left, you go right,” she orders quietly, and I nod my head in agreement.

  “The assailant outside the SUV has pulled a weapon. It’s down by his side but it looks like he intends to fire once you’re both back in sight.”

  “Copy,” Maggie responds again. We’re separated from these men only by thirty feet and the cover of my strategically parked car. “I’ll bait him,” Maggie says as she reaches
behind her back casually and hollers at the men. “Was it really necessary to meet all the way out here? This seems absurd.”

  At that, the man raises his weapon and she and I hit the deck behind my car as the bullets rain over our heads. I hear a heavy grunt and a body falling to the ground as Frank’s voice rings in my ear again. “Assailant one is down. Multiple people are exiting the car. I count three. All armed and taking cover behind the SUV. We’re waiting for clear shots.”

  I don’t need more than a second to do the math. If there are four armed men who have come out of the SUV then that accounts for all the heat picked up on the infrared scopes. And that means Jordan isn’t there. That hits me right before I regain my emotional footing. Both Maggie and I have our weapons drawn, waiting for more direction from the tactical team. More bullets fly out over our heads and I go belly down to get a view under my car and, in turn, under the SUV. I see a set of boots and with a steady hand I fire, directly hitting one and watching the man fall to the ground. With another shot to his recently dropped body I see him go still.

  “Was that you guys?” Frank asks, and I confirm the shot was mine. “Nice work. Two targets left and my team is getting in place to take them out.”

  “Leave one alive,” I demand. “The hostage isn’t here and if you kill them all we may never find her.”

  “I’ll order a non-fatal shot, but it’ll be up to you to disarm him and secure the scene,” Frank offers and I accept the challenge. Judging by the fiery look in Maggie’s eye, she’s game, too.

  After a minute we hear Tom’s voice one more time. “Two remaining targets are down. Injured but moving. I cannot confirm if they are disarmed. Approach with caution.”

  “I’m with you, Click, but if we get around that corner and it’s them or us, I’m firing.”