by Amelia Autin
“Trace!” Keira felt her face flushing, and knew she’d betrayed herself.
He smiled wryly, and his eyes met hers. “Yeah, it’s none of my business. I know that. But knowing you, if you are sleeping with him, you’re worried I might think badly of you if I found out. I just want you to know I don’t, that’s all.”
“I never thought you—that is, I did think you might—but I don’t want—oh, God...” She was hopelessly lost in a morass of half sentences, none of which she knew how to end. Trace’s eyes held understanding and a glint of humor. “Oh, damn you,” she said without heat.
Chapter 21
When Cody walked into Callahan’s house, the first thing he noticed was that Keira was studiously avoiding her partner, and his internal radar started buzzing. It wasn’t anything either of them said, just a strange vibe, and he wondered what the hell had happened.
But before he could ask Keira about it, Callahan hollered from the kitchen. “I’m starved. Let’s eat while we have the chance.”
Keira followed him back into the kitchen, and while the two men ate, she told them what she’d found on Ted Danvers. “Two felony convictions, and a long history of petty crimes dating back to his teens,” she said, reading from her cryptic notes. “And his name is on the NOANC donor list for the past five years.”
“Suspicious,” Cody said between bites, “but not proof of anything.”
“No, but those two felony convictions give us leverage under the ‘three-strike’ law. If he goes down for attempted murder, it’s the same as if he succeeded in killing one of us—a life sentence. We might be able to get him to talk for a reduced sentence.”
“What else have you got?” Callahan asked.
“An extended cab pickup truck registered in his name.” She gave the make, model and year. “Did you find one on the road anywhere?”
“No,” Cody answered.
“I didn’t think you would.” There was that repressed excitement again, as if she could hardly wait to tell them what else she’d uncovered. “Ted Danvers has two brothers, Brad and Joe, both younger. Same address. Also NOANC donors. And get this—Brad is an explosives expert—four years in the army, dishonorable discharge. He works for a construction company now.”
Callahan swore. “Ideal recruit for the New World Militia.”
“That’s what I thought. Trace had the agency contact the Buffalo police, to see if they could track down either brother.”
Cody asked, “And?”
Her smile lit up her eyes. “Unaccounted for. Both of them.”
Callahan put down his half-eaten sandwich and picked up the phone. “Do you have the license plate number?” She nodded and held her notebook in front of him as he dialed a number. “Jerry? It’s me. I need an APB on a vehicle, license plate...” He read the number for the all points bulletin off Keira’s notebook, along with the make, model, year and the owner’s name. “Ted Danvers is in FBI custody, but right now he’s in the hospital in Sheridan.”
He listened for a minute, then said, “Yeah. That’s right. And I also want a BOLO for two men,” he added, using the police acronym for be on the lookout. “Brad Danvers and Joe Danvers, both of Buffalo.” He mouthed the word, “address,” at Keira. She flipped back in her notebook and held it up so he could repeat it into the phone. “Got that? Good. Let me know the minute we get a hit on the truck or either man. Thanks.”
He hung up and looked at Cody, who nodded and said, “You want to be the good cop or the bad cop?”
Callahan chuckled and picked up his sandwich again. “I’m always the good cop, even when I play the bad one.”
* * *
Michael Vishenko’s home phone rang. “Yes?” he said when he picked it up.
“We have a slight problem,” the voice at the other end said.
“I see. Thank you for calling.” He hung up, a muscle in his jaw twitching. He reached into a desk drawer, pulled out a cell phone, and stared at it. Another failure. How was that possible? His targets were mortal. How hard could it be to kill them?
Fools, he thought as he waited the requisite five minutes, his anger growing with each minute that passed. I’m surrounded by fools.
After five minutes he dialed a number. “What is the problem this time?” he asked when the call was answered.
“We need authorization to proceed with something other than the original approach.”
Vishenko knew the voice was referring to his carefully constructed plan—agonizing death by fire for all his targets. Without that, Vishenko would not receive the full measure of his revenge. “No!” he shouted into the phone. “The original plan must be followed.”
There was silence at the other end. “There is a problem with that.”
“What problem?”
“A secondary failure. And a custody issue.”
Vishenko translated the code phrases. Secondary failure—he’d already surmised as much. But custody issue was more serious. It meant one of his tools had been arrested.
“And what is your solution?” he asked.
“If we could deviate from the plan...it could also resolve the custody issue.”
“Then, do it,” he snapped. He barely disconnected the phone before adding viciously, “Just kill them. Any way you can.”
* * *
It was late when they arrived at the hospital in Sheridan, but the sun was still up. Cody left Keira guarding Callahan’s four-by-four and McKinnon guarding the front door of the hospital, while he and Callahan went up to Ted Danvers’s room to question him. At first the FBI agent stationed outside Danvers’ room refused to let them enter, but Callahan eventually convinced him they had legitimate business with the suspect.
Once inside they were confronted by another FBI agent. This one was even tougher to convince. Before he would let them interrogate Danvers, he called his superior, Agent Jeff Holmes, for permission, which was grudgingly given.
All told, it was almost thirty minutes before they were allowed to ask their first question...for all the good it did them. Ted Danvers might as well have been a sphinx. He answered none of their questions, just lay there secure in his rights against self-incrimination, his eyes glaring at both interrogators equally.
Finally Cody told Callahan, “Forget it. We’re wasting our time here.” He started for the door. “Maybe we’ll have better luck with Brad or Joe.”
“They won’t—” Danvers was startled into saying before he caught himself.
“They won’t what?” Callahan asked softly. “Talk?”
“Get the hell out of here,” Danvers grated. “I know my rights. I don’t have to talk to you. I want a lawyer.” Then he shut his eyes.
The FBI agent sitting next to the bed made a facial expression as if to say, “What did you expect?” as they left the room.
Cody and Callahan rode down in the elevator. Cody glanced at the older man and said, “At least we know we’re on the right track.”
“Yeah,” Callahan responded dryly. “But we’re a long way from making a case.”
They exited the elevator and walked to the front door, where McKinnon waited for them. The three men had no sooner stepped outside when FBI Agent Holmes appeared.
“Sorry,” Callahan said, meaning it. “We didn’t mean to drag you out here. We just needed to ask a few questions.”
Holmes’ jaw clamped tight for a moment. “It’s my case,” he said finally.
“Mine, too,” Cody said quietly.
Holmes bristled. “Look, Walker—”
“No, you look.” Cody was fed up with the FBI’s attitude toward the agency. “Didn’t they tell you it was my truck that was rigged to explode the other night, same as Callahan’s?” His voice held an edge of anger. “I’m just as much a target as Callahan here, and if it wasn’t for the agency, the FBI wouldn’t know a damn thing about it, wouldn’t know there’s a link between those two dead prosecutors and the attempts on us.” He took a step forward. “I’m sorry if you think I’m treading on you
r toes, but—”
McKinnon stepped between them. “Dial it back, Walker,” he said firmly. He glanced over his shoulder at Agent Holmes. “You, too. I know the FBI doesn’t like the agency, but we are on the same side. Aren’t we?” he added pointedly.
Both men looked at each other, hostility slowly fading.
Cody glanced at Callahan, silently asking a question. Callahan said, “It’s your call.” He smiled faintly. “It’s a hell of a situation if you can’t trust the FBI...at least partway.”
Cody looked at Agent Holmes again. “We could pool our resources.” He heard the grudging note in his voice, and deliberately toned it down. “We’ve got a couple of leads we’re willing to share, if the FBI will do the same.” He held out his hand. “Truce?”
Agent Holmes stared at the hand, then at Cody’s face. “Sounds like a good plan to me,” he said finally, shaking Cody’s hand. “What do you say we go back in here and talk about it?”
“Works for me.”
Callahan said, “I’ll get Keira.” He turned and headed for his four-by-four.
Keira watched Callahan coming her way, wondering what was going on. She’d witnessed the confrontation between Cody and FBI Agent Holmes, had seen Trace step between them, and then had seen the two men shaking hands. Maybe they finally realized we’re all on the same side, she thought, smiling.
The sun hadn’t set completely, but shadows fell across the parking lot in long, angular lines. Callahan was halfway there before she saw him signaling her to join them. Keira waved in acknowledgement and began jogging toward the hospital entrance, and Callahan turned back. Just then a truck slowly pulled into the parking lot on Keira’s left. She turned in its direction automatically...and knew...
Everything happened in the space of three seconds. The truck accelerated, and Keira raced forward, her hand already on her Glock. “Callahan!” she shouted as she drew her weapon, reaching him just as the truck’s passenger-side window rolled smoothly down, and the barrel of a rifle appeared in the open window. “Federal agents! Freeze!” she called out, stepping in front of Callahan and drawing a bead on the man in the window. She squeezed the trigger.
Cody turned sharply when he heard Keira call out Callahan’s name. Saw Callahan reach for his .45...too late. Reached for his own gun and started running...also too late. Simultaneous gunshots rang out, and Keira was spun around like a rag doll.
“No!” Cody shouted. Callahan was already firing, and the truck swerved. Then Cody was firing at the truck, too, obliterating the windshield as the truck headed straight for him. He darted out of the way at the last minute, still firing until his Glock locked open on an empty clip. The truck veered, then crashed head on into a light pole.
McKinnon and Holmes were racing toward the truck, weapons drawn, and Cody knew they didn’t need him. He turned and saw Keira sprawled on the ground in a pool of blood, Callahan kneeling beside her. An instant later he was there, too.
On autopilot, his hands worked feverishly alongside Callahan’s. The bullet had entered through the unprotected armhole of Keira’s bulletproof vest, he realized, and had ripped through the right side of her chest. Suddenly McKinnon was there, and Cody ordered, “Get an emergency team here now!” He didn’t even look up to see if McKinnon had obeyed. Since Callahan already had pressure on the entrance wound, Cody felt around with his right hand until he found the exit wound in the back and applied pressure there while his other hand reached for a pulse.
Her skin was cool and clammy to the touch, and her pupils were dilated; Cody knew she was already going into shock from loss of blood. But she kept whispering something, the same thing again and again even as her body shivered. Cody bent over her and heard, “Spec...sev...”
He knew then what she was trying to say.
Chapter 22
The waiting was the worst, Cody thought as he leaned against the wall in the antiseptic hallway outside the intensive care unit. He’d been in this same hospital himself six years ago, fighting for his life just as Keira was now. But he’d been in and out of consciousness, and the struggle to breathe then was nothing compared to what he was going through now.
If Keira didn’t make it—No! his heart insisted. He wasn’t going to think that way. Keira couldn’t die.
Cody looked up and saw Callahan walking down the long hallway toward him, rolling down his sleeve over the cotton ball taped to the crook of his left arm, and he knew the other man had just donated blood.
Blood. There’d been so much blood on Keira, all of it hers. It didn’t seem possible for a human being to lose so much blood and still be alive. If he lived to be a hundred he’d never forget the sight of Keira bleeding out with every beat of her heart. His hands had been covered with her blood as he frantically tried to stem the tide; thanking God wordlessly both he and Callahan had paramedic training that just might save her life. Thanking God, too, that they were in the parking lot of the hospital, and help was almost immediately forthcoming. But there had been so much blood on his hands that when they’d arrived in the emergency room one of the nurses there had been sure Cody was injured, too.
“No word yet?” Callahan asked in his deep voice.
Cody swallowed hard, fighting to keep his emotions under control. “No,” he answered roughly. “Not yet.”
Callahan leaned one shoulder against the wall next to Cody. After a long pause, he said softly, “She took a bullet meant for me.”
I know, Cody wanted to say, but he didn’t trust himself to say the words out loud, not when part of him was hating Callahan for being there—well and whole—while Keira... All she ever wanted was respect, he reminded himself as another little piece of his heart shredded. Well, she’d earned that respect, and then some, even if it meant...
“No one’s ever done that for me,” Callahan continued. “Not even Mandy. That’s not how I wanted it to go down, not the way I—”
Cody’s harsh laugh cut him off. “Special rule seven,” he said bitterly. “That’s all she said. She was already in shock, but...special rule seven.”
Callahan asked quietly, “What’s that?”
“The agency’s special rule seven—protect civilians at all costs.” Cody’s voice grated on the words and nearly broke at the end, knowing the cost in this case might be Keira’s life. “That means—”
“I know what it means,” Callahan said. “I just never thought of myself as a civilian who needed protection. I was always on the other side, the one doing the protecting.”
Cody shook his head. “Not to Keira. Anyone who doesn’t work for the agency is a civilian.” He thought about it for a moment. “And even if that weren’t the case, she had another reason for walking into that bullet.”
“What’s that?”
“She promised Mandy she wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
Callahan frowned. “When—”
“That morning at my cabin, before McKinnon took your family away. Mandy asked me first. I told her I’d do my best.” His face contracted, the memory painful. “Mandy said that wasn’t good enough. So she asked Keira, and Keira promised.”
“Guts and brains,” Callahan replied, respect and admiration evident. “She’s one hell of an agent.”
If only Keira survives to hear those words, Cody told himself. More than anything he wanted that for her, wanted her to know. He turned toward the door to the intensive care unit and stared, as if he could make someone appear there and tell him Keira was going to be okay by sheer force of will. He sensed rather than heard Callahan’s departure. But Callahan returned within a few minutes, saying, “Here, drink this.”
A cup of hot, black coffee was thrust in front of him. Cody didn’t want it. But he knew Callahan was just stubborn enough to stand there forever until Cody took the cup.
He gagged a little as he drank the hot liquid. It wasn’t very good. Wherever Callahan had obtained it, the coffeepot had probably been sitting for a while, and the consistency and taste reflected it. But it was hot. And he
was so cold inside. So cold. That hard, cold knot inside him reminded him that he had failed to protect Keira. That was the bottom line. She was his woman, and he hadn’t gotten there in time to save her.
His thoughts turned inward, every detail of every memory of Keira running through his mind; from the moment he’d first seen her, terrified but refusing to surrender, to the moment he’d kissed her and realized the deep core of passion she hid from the world, until the moment they’d wheeled her away in the emergency room, fragile, broken and bleeding.
He had never seen her cry.
That didn’t mean she was cold, emotionless; he knew she cared passionately. It just meant she was tough. Tough enough to stand side by side with him against a world that contained too much evil; tough enough to see that evil, to fight against it and not let it destroy her soul; tough enough to walk in front of a bullet meant for someone else because to her that was her job—protecting others.
That’s why he loved her.
Cody breathed deeply as he finally acknowledged the truth, the answer to questions he hadn’t even known he had. He’d subconsciously fought calling it love, because the only other time he’d loved a woman it had ended in disaster. But he loved Keira. And just as he remembered every moment he’d spent with her, every word she’d ever said to him was imprinted in his heart, especially those two words, “I will.”
“Trust me,” he’d told her that first night, and she’d responded promptly, “I will.” But now he desperately wanted to tell her other things, things he might never have the chance to say.
Love me.
Need me.
Marry me.
And he wanted to hear the same two words from her in reply—I will.
He couldn’t fathom a world without Keira. He glanced up and caught Callahan watching him, compassion looking out of place on that hard, cold face. But Cody knew that if any man could comprehend the enormity of what he stood to lose, Callahan could, because that’s how he felt about Mandy.