The Galilee Falls Trilogy (Book 2): Galilee Rising

by Harlow, Jennifer

  "No," he says, shaking his head.

  "There are a million ways today can go wrong. The odds are not in our favor. And if it does, I just need you to know…I don't regret a second I've spent with you. Not a one. You healed me. You brought me back to life, and I would rather have one night with you than a million without. So don't you dare blame yourself if I don't make it out of this. It was all my choice, and I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. Because you're worth it. Because to me you're perfect. You have blessed my life in ways you cannot fathom, and from the bottom of my heart thank you. Thank you for loving me and making me a better person. I love you. Just keep my family, friends, and city safe, okay?"

  He cups my head and wipes my tears as they fall. "Okay," he says breathlessly.

  "Good." I give him a quick peck and pull away before I completely lose it. "I have to go now." I kiss him again. "I love you."

  I can't look at him as I retrieve my diamonds and rush out of the room. It isn't until I get to my car that I really break down and cry. Because I'm scared. I've never been so scared in my life. Because I finally have something real to live for. And I am going to fight with my dying breath to keep hold of it. And I know I'm going to have to prove that today.

  All in.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  My Hero

  Diamonds? Check. Tracking devices in my sneaker, another in my collar? Check. All black today. Fitting for a funeral. Plane on stand-by, though I doubt I'll make it there? Check. I assume my co-conspirators are in place. No way to find out though. Faith, Jo. Faith. I pace around my office like a caged panther clutching my cell hard enough to break it. I haven't sat still for fifteen minutes. I am sure Jordan is watching my meltdown with amusement from the camera in the credenza. It's five past one and no call. Fucker. He's late just to drive me crazy. Keep me on edge. It's working like a fucking charm, asshole.

  There's a knock on my office door, and I gasp in fright. "Joanna?" Lane asks on the other side.

  Oh, good. A distraction. "Come in."

  Lane steps in with a file folder. "I've been reviewing your data on the acquisition of Ambrose Pharmaceuticals. I just, I can't see it, especially considering the offer we just received from Goliath to sell our existing pharma."

  "Huh?" Oh, right, I have to keep the hating Jem farce alive. "What about purchasing the hospital from the city? Privatizing it?"

  "That's more viable, especially with Dr. Ambrose's drug trial showing promise. We buy the hospital, we own the patent."

  "He'd never go for that. Too much of a do-gooder. Push the offer forward regardless. Even if Ambrose resigns in protest, it's still a moneymaker."

  "I doubt the board--"

  Another knock stops this pointless conversation. Shannon scurries in without invitation, holding an envelope. "I'm sorry. This package just arrived. It's marked urgent."

  And away we go. About fucking time.

  "Would you please excuse me? Lane, we'll continue this later." Hopefully.

  Shannon escorts Lane out as I stare at the package in my free hand. Medium sized, brown, small. And ringing. It begins ringing. For a split second I anticipate an explosion, tensing and even holding my breath. All that comes is a second ring. I rip open the package, finding a cell phone, a strange looking Bluetooth, Metro card, and black velvet bag. I quickly place the Bluetooth in my ear and receive the call. "Joanna Fallon."

  "The phone has a webcam function. The camera is in the Bluetooth," Jordan says through my earpiece. "There's a switch on the side. Flip it on." I do. "It's transmitting. Think of me as the angel on your shoulder, I see, know and judge all you do. Now, remove everything in your pockets and show me as you do. You are to leave here with nothing but what I've provided." I have nothing in my pockets, and I show him such. "Where are the diamonds? Show me as you place them in the bag provided." I move over to the office safe behind the Dali painting, following instructions to the letter. Diamonds in the bag "Now with only the bag, walk out the door to the elevator."

  "Can I take my jacket? It's cold out."

  "You'll just have to suffer. Go now. And remember, I have eyes and ears in the sky. No funny business."

  "I'm not feeling humorous today, don't worry." Just put one foot in front of the other, Jo. Go. With a sigh, I amble out of my office. "I'm leaving for the day," I tell Shannon. "Something came up. I'll be back in a few days. Hold down the fort."

  I don't wait for her response, I just keep moving. In exactly thirty seconds, she'll send a text to Cam that I've left for the meet. "Ground floor," Jordan says as I enter the elevator. "Then walk to the Gaines Street Metro station, South platform."

  "I could just take a taxi to the airstrip," I offer.

  "You go where I say the moment I say it or the bomb set to prime in the Thornton wing blows."

  Oh shit. "That's not necessary."

  "Simply insurance. You asked for this, Joanna." He pauses. "Metro. You have five minutes."

  The elevator ride takes an eternity as workers keep getting on. A few attempt conversation but my glare stops their words. Boss of the year, me. Like most, I get off on the first floor and trek through the lobby with its water features and golden "PI" logo a story tall. No one stops me as I rush out to the street. Somewhere Kowalski sits parked, waiting to pull out in a fake cab in case Jordan went for my suggested mode of transportation. He'll still trail me as he's linked to the tracker in my shoe.

  I wasn't lying. It's damn cold, low forties, with the wind pounding against me. I hurry the three blocks to the Metro, occasionally glancing back to see if I have any shadows. Only one person I recognize. "Yes, you are being tailed," Jordan says. "Eyes forward, Joanna."

  The station is bustling with commuters. Thank goodness not a one pays me any attention. I swipe my Metro card and walk to the south platform. "Find the bench in front of the poster of Our Lady Hospital, then get in the train car directly in front of it. Hurry. The train's arriving."

  Shit. Advertisements line the entire red and white tiled wall. Just as the train pulls in, I find the spot. I dash into the car as told. This ordeal just began and already I'm exhausted. "Remain standing and don't get off until I say so."

  "Roger."

  The train jerks to a start. Bye, Kowalski. Hope you made the train, Mirabelle. Three, four, five stations pass, all the opposite direction of the airport. Not that I expected to arrive there. That would be far too easy. I wall up my terror somehow and brick by hard won brick until I'm numb. Alert, but numb. I'm aware of everyone around me. No one is above suspicion. The college student with the purple hair. The tourist checking me out without his wife noticing. The businessman beside me chatting to his mistress on his cell. Mirabelle keeping an eye on me through the glass partition between the cars. I learned hand to hand combat skills at the police academy, even how to disarm someone, I'm ready to strike if necessary. The doors begin closing at the sixth station when Jordan yells, "Get off the train! Now!"

  Shit. I leap through the doors just before they shut. Bye, Mirabelle. "Go to the opposite platform and embark the next train." I'm like a trained seal jumping through hoops. I keep leaping though. This time I only ride two stops before he orders me off. "Find the hospital poster to your left." I walk down the wall and spot it. "See the maintenance door beside? Enter."

  The door opens without issue. I take one step inside when a hand clamps on my free wrist, yanking me all the way inside. I gasp and try to pull it away. "Stop struggling," Jordan says. "He won't harm you unless you make him."

  I recognize Gary Acevedo as my assailant. "Hi, Gary. James Ryder says hello," I say as he shuts the door.

  "Strip," Jordan says over the Bluetooth.

  "Excuse me?"

  "Take off all your clothes, underwear included. He won't touch you."

  Wonderful. I've gone from seal to stripper. Without hesitation, I remove my sweater, pants, jewelry, undergarments, the whole lot. To his credit, Acevedo doesn't leer. He's all business. "Yes, sir?" Acevedo listens over his Bluetooth. He picks up
the bag beside him, removing a white bra and panties.

  "Put those on," Jordan says, "then spread your arms and legs. He's going to check you for trackers." Ugh. I assume the position as Acevedo sweeps a black rod over my body. It buzzes when it reaches my arm. Jordan tsks over the earpiece. "I told you no bugs."

  "Can't blame a girl for trying."

  "And you can't blame me for this. Present your arm. This will hurt."

  Acevedo receives his instructions before pulling out a scalpel and tweezers. I can't look. I stare at the broom and pan in the corner as the scalpel slices me apart. "Think happy thoughts, Joanna," Jordan says in my ear. I whimper as the tweezers plunge into the hole and root around in there. Fuck that hurts! I bite my lower lip to stop from crying out. "Who is on the other end of that bug?"

  "Dobbs," I wince. "He's tracking me from the manor." Of which I am sure you are verifying on the surveillance camera right now. As planned, Dobbs will be sitting by Doris until the signal goes dead.

  "So, what's the plan?" Jordan asks.

  "If the signal dies, or he doesn't hear from me in the next hour and every two hours after that, the information on Jem is released and he contacts the Feds."

  Acevedo finally locates the bug. The torture is over. "Just leave it on the floor?" He listens again and nods before handing me the first-aid kit.

  "Fix your arm then put on the rest of the clothes," Acevedo says.

  As I do--just jeans, gray sweatshirt, and white sneakers--Acevedo places the bug on the floor before swiping the diamonds with the baton. No tracers. He replaces the diamonds in the bag. I slip on my new shoes and tuck my hair under the Galilee Angels cap provided. "Now, follow Mr. Acevedo. And remember: bombs, children, no fleeing." Acevedo yanks on my arm and maneuvers me out of the closet. I activate the fourth tracker in my finger.

  We file to the opposite platform to embark the southbound train. After two stops, we switch again, riding three north then switching to westbound for five stops, then south to the end of the line. I suppose it's not really paranoia if they are out to get you. Like a good hostage, I don't struggle or say a word when I'm led from the subway up to a parked car near the docks. Ah the fresh ocean air. May your enjoyment not be ruined by the day's events. "Don't you even want to know where you're going, Joanna?" Jordan asks as I climb into the car.

  "Does it matter? Wherever it is, I'm going there anyway."

  We don't drive far, only six blocks to a private dock. Once again, I'm manhandled down a wooden landing with half a dozen johnboats, to the small blue speedboat where I'm promptly shoved onto the bench while Acededo fires up the engine. Charon guiding me down the river Styx. No one made it out of that boat ride alive either.

  "Guess we're not flying to our final destination," I say to Jordan.

  "No shit, Sherlock. Just sussed that one out?" Jordan replies.

  Acevedo maneuvers the boat through the busy shipping lines filled with steel cargo boats as long as a city block. My fear, which I was doing a fine job of keeping at bay, spikes and spikes through my defenses the further we zoom out to sea. Thirty seconds in I'm trembling and not just from the cutting wind and splash of the freezing water. There are GFPD Marine boats patrolling the harbor, but it'll take longer than two minutes to get to me. Wonderful.

  Just as the city's landmass is about to fade completely from view over the dark blue horizon, Acevedo lowers the throttle to slow us. I'm guessing our destination is the stopped carrier about a hundred yards away and closing. Even from this far I can tell she's no ordinary shipping boat. There are no containers on the deck with only a few tiny people milling around on deck. It's smaller than a typical freighter too but still enormous, easily the length of three football fields and as tall as a three-story house. As we pull up to its rusting side, a rope ladder falls from the deck. Acevedo hands me the diamonds. "Up."

  Hades, I have arrived.

  I knot the bag's tie around my wrist and climb up the side of the ship. I make it about five rungs before Acevedo guns the engine again and zooms away, back towards land. So much for stealing the boat to escape. Swimming to shore is out too as my arms ache by the time I reach the deck. A minion has to help me up the last step. When I stand fully erect, I spot a familiar face strolling toward us with a huge grin plastered on his stolen face. He's dressed casually for our showdown in beige chinos, loafers, and black fleece sweatshirt with his dark hair slicked back. "Welcome aboard."

  I remove the Bluetooth, and start pressing the transmitter to signal Jem. "What the hell is this? Not that I don't love a good sea voyage, but a plane is a hell of a lot quicker. I can't see you wanting to spend more time with me than you have to. So what the fuck is going on? I thought we had a deal."

  "All shall be revealed shortly. This way."

  The two goons with machine guns flank me as Jordan leads us toward the metal staircase down into the massive, cavernous and almost empty cargo area. Well empty except for the bomb the size of an SUV sitting center ring with a million wires attached to bricks and bricks of explosives. Sitting on top is a wooden platform and tall metal rod with a circular top that was probably attached to a crane to lower it, complete with small ladders on either side.

  My mouth dries up at the sight of this weapon of mass destruction. And of course we stop the tour right beside it. Damn it's two times taller than me. If he's attempting to scare me, it is damn sure working. "Nice bomb."

  "Don't worry, it's not primed. Yet. There are also smaller devices planted across the freighter in strategic points. Engine room, hull, etc."

  "All for little old me? I'm flattered." I pause. False bravado is the only thing keeping me from crumbling. Just keep it together until Nightingale arrives. "Before we begin what I assume is a re-negotiation of terms, can you please call the police so they can remove the bomb in the hospital?"

  "Do you honestly think I'd plant a bomb in a children's ward?" I just glare at him. "Yes, of course, you're right. I did. But fret not. My dear brother is, as we speak, disarming it. I wanted to keep him occupied while we conducted our business. I made it relatively easy. I try not to kill children. Unless I'm paid extra for it."

  "Noble. So, can we please just get on with this?" I raise the bag. "I brought your diamonds. Want them now or…what? Are we sailing to another port and a plane will meet us near there?"

  "Possibly," he says with amusement.

  This garners another glare. "Then possibly you should keep in mind the guillotine hanging over your brother's head. This isn't a complicated equation: kill me, kill him. So, why don't we just stick to our agreement, Mr. Ambrose? I've kept my end. We can all walk away winners. You go, I leave your brother alone. You get away scot free to continue tormenting whoever your black heart desires, just not in my town. So stop posturing and let's get on with this."

  Jordan stares at me impassively for a few seconds before a large, sickening grin crosses his face. "Oh, Miss Fallon, you are good. You are really, truly good," he says as if surprised. "Even now, under all this stress and duress, you remain in character. Kudos. Really. I like you far more than his last paramour. You're miles more entertaining. Still going to kill you, though." He glances at the minion on the right. "Bert, handcuff her to the bomb, please."

  "What?" I shriek. Bert slaps a cuff on before I can fight back while the other henchman points the Uzi at me.

  "Keep the diamonds. I have loads already."

  "We had a deal!" I shout as Uzi man shoves me toward the bomb.

  "And she keeps on going! Way to commit!"

  "I don't know what you're talking about, Ambrose!" Bert has already climbed onto the bomb's platform. Uzi presses the gun in my back to get me to climb too. "This is a mistake! A huge mistake! Your brother is dead. He is so fucking dead!"

  "You know, you almost had me going there once or twice," Jordan continues.

  "Sit and raise your hands," Uzi orders. Having little choice, I obey. Just buy time. Just buy time, Jo.

  "Especially yesterday. Whoa!" Jordan chuckles. "T
ense. You were really going to do it, weren't you?"

  With the Uzi still pointed at my vital organs, Bert passes the open cuff through the metal loop and attaches it to my free wrist. Both cuffs are so tight even breaking my thumbs couldn't get me out of them. I am now handcuffed to a bomb. Brilliant plan, Jo. "Look, I don't know what you think is going on, but you have it dead fucking wrong. I am not playing you here!"

  "Oh, now you're just growing tedious," Jordan chides. He whips out his cell phone and holds it up to take a picture. "Say cheese!" He snaps a picture of me on the bomb.

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "Texting our lover," he says, fingers tapping. "'Come and get her.' Short and simple, just like you."

  "Goddamn it, Ambrose! You have this all wrong. I--"

  "Shut up!" he roars, face becoming almost feral as his voice echoes through the metal space. "Just shut your fucking mouth. You lost. Maintain some damn dignity, woman. I know. I know it all! I know you discovered you were under surveillance. I know you and my brother concocted some ridiculous scheme to make it appear you loathe one another so I'd leave you in peace. I even know you must have some hidden tracker so he can locate you now. It was a decent plan, and you played it masterfully. I will concede that. As I said, you almost had me believing your ire on more than one occasion. You really went for it, but you simply…underestimated me.

  "I've been following my brother since he touched down in this city. I have photos of you and him pitching woo all over town. I knew about you long before you knew about me. And I sure as hell know my big brother. You're exactly his type. Damaged. Trashy. Dumber than you realize. And more important, you showed him the time of day. I know you had to do all the heavy lifting, I have the recorded conversations to prove it. And do you know why that is, Joanna? Because he doesn't love you!" the maniac bellows, fury echoing through the ship. "He could never love you! You are nothing! Just some whorish, drunken, ugly, fucking gash! You are so beneath him you are not even fit to be the shit he scrapes from his boots! I just have to make him realize that!"