Till Death: Deep Six Security Series Book 1

by Becky McGraw

  When he crumpled to his knees, Susan kicked off her shoes and took off running to the door. She burst through it and looked left and right for Logan, her heart pounding in her throat. An alarm sounded throughout the clinic, and Susan knew it wasn’t a fire alarm this time. It was an alert to the guards. She took off running to the left with no idea where she was going. She ran until her sides hurt, and she reached the end of a hallway. Dragging in breaths, she looked up and saw a camera staring down at her.

  Fuck, they knew exactly where she was, she thought, pushing through a side door. She ducked into a room blindly, and saw another door at the back of the room, and went there. Opening it, she ran inside and stopped short when she saw Dr. Warman behind a desk with a monitor in front of him grinning at her. Susan’s heart slid to her toes, and she cursed her bad luck.

  “Glad you found your way to me, Ms. Whitmore. You saved my security team a lot of trouble,” he said, lifting a Glock pistol to aim it at her. “Now, you’re going to be a good girl and go with me to meet some friends,” he said as he stood. “I’d really hate to shoot you and ruin the surprise I have for you later. You’ve messed with the wrong people, Ms. Whitmore.”

  “I have no idea why you’re calling me that. My name is Susan Lawrence, and my husband is a very powerful man. He’s going to sue this clinic—” she said arrogantly.

  “Hush!” he shouted, aiming the pistol at her chest as walked closer. “I know exactly who you are Ms. Susan Whitmore, former Special Agent in Charge at the FBI Dallas Regional office.”

  Susan swallowed the bile that rushed up to her throat, and mentally urged him just a little closer. “And how do you know that?” she asked just as arrogantly.

  “I have friends in high and low places, Ms. Whitmore. Even at the FBI Dallas Regional Office as a matter of fact.”

  “Bullshit, we cleaned house not too long ago, and we don’t…they don’t have moles there.”

  “That’s right—you’re not there anymore. You don’t know a thing. And your FBI friends aren’t going to save you, because honestly? Most of them can’t stand you. You made a lot of enemies at the bureau.” The way Warman made it sound it was someone new at the agency who was feeding him information. It had to be someone hired after she left, had to be, because she had personally scrubbed her team a few years ago, and was diligent in vetting before she hired.

  Not my circus, not my monkeys, Susan reminded herself.

  Even though that leak had created her present problem, that was now Carlos’s problem, not hers. She had enough of her own right now, Susan thought, as she stared at the doctor’s hold on the gun, and where his finger was in relation to the trigger. Pretty damned close. And she was curious who these friends of his were.

  “I saw what you did to Mario and it was very entertaining, but also enlightening. I won’t make the same mistake that he did by getting too close to you. Turn around and open that door, Ms. Whitmore. I’d hate to shoot you before I have my fun.”

  Susan lifted her hands as high as her chest, which was really a maneuver to get them closer to her body, to curl her fingers into her palms and be ready for action when an opportunity arose. She’d go along with this man as long as it suited her. When it didn’t, or she felt in real danger, she would fight for her life.

  You’re the only couple here today.

  That meant help was not something she was going to find. She was sure the staff was gone too, because she hadn’t seen anyone around when she was running through the halls. She was sure the guards were all still here though. And every one of them was aware of their only job today. To get rid of Dave Logan and Susan Whitmore. Mac had been right the first time when he thought they were bugging out. The return phone call had been a ruse to lure them here.

  “The evidence is already in the hands of the authorities. There’s no use, Dr. Warman, you should turn yourself in and cut a deal to testify,” she suggested hoping that would spur him to thinking about saving himself, rather than killing her.

  “I’m sorry, my dear, I won’t be around to do that,” he said with a snicker.

  Yep, they were abandoning the clinic. “Why did you call us back out here?” she asked, like she didn’t already know the answer to that too.

  “The people I associate with always pay and collect their debts, Ms. Whitmore. You have cost them a great deal of money with your interference. You’ve delayed my research as well.”

  “That’s not research, Dr. Warman. What you’re doing is committing murder, human trafficking and bondage, money laundering and sundry other crimes. You’re going to jail for a very long time, unless you consider cutting a deal.”

  “Not if I don’t get caught.”

  “Oh, you’ll get caught, because the people I associate with also collect debts owed to them. If you kill us, then they will hunt you down and kill you, I can assure you. How do you think we found out all we did on this clinic? Logan has a lot of badass men who work for him. Ex-cops, military men, men of honor who would definitely avenge him. They love him like a brother, and respect him.”

  He laughed. “Let them give it their best try,” he said arrogantly. “Now, move, Ms. Whitmore—you’re wasting my time!”

  His smug cool demeanor was slipping and that was a good thing, as far as she was concerned. Susan opened the door and walked through. He shut the door behind him then followed behind her as she walked to the second door. She spun the ring on her finger, as she asked, “So, Dr. Warman, where did they take Logan?” Susan knew keeping up the Lawrence façade was useless now. That gig was up.

  “You’ll be reunited with your husband very soon, Mrs. Lawrence, and I hope the two of enjoy spending eternity in hell together,” he replied, and that pretty much sealed her decision.

  They were planning to kill them anyway, so what the hell did she have to lose?

  Susan staggered, then fell to the ground. Her hand went under her skirt and she rolled. Coming up with her .38, she aimed and hit Dr. Warman square in the chest. His gun went off, the bullet whizzed past her ear and Susan rolled, but it ricocheted off of a thick metal column and came back to dig a burning hot trench in the side of her hip. With a groan, she rolled onto her back, and ran her hand over her hip. Pulling her hand back, she saw her palm was streaked with blood. Her head bounced as she slammed it back against the carpeted floor and groaned. The last thing she needed was to get shot, but it had happened, so like everything else she was just going to have to suck it up and move on. Susan laid there a moment gathering her senses, then got to her feet. It could’ve been a lot worse, she thought, as she scrambled to her feet and glanced at Dr. Warman’s body.

  Feeling not an ounce of remorse, she spat, “You rot in hell you sonofabitch.” She stomped down the hallway, feeling the warm ooze of blood trickling down her thigh, over her knee to her calf, but ignored it.

  Approaching another hallway, Susan slowed down, and it was good she did. A guard rounded the corner, and looking surprised, he raised his gun. Susan feinted left and fired a shot, hitting him in the shoulder. His gun clattered to the floor and skated toward her, as he grabbed his shoulder and staggered back into the hall. Holding the .38 on the hallway opening, Susan bent and picked up his gun.

  Russian Mafia hell, she scoffed. These pussies had nothing on her level of pissed off right now. Susan was going to find Logan, and those women and they were all getting the hell out of this place now.

  She walked as far as the STAFF ONLY door, and saw it was closed. There was no way she could get inside, so she started walking again, wandering aimlessly through the building, looking for any sign of where they might have taken Logan. Her foot slipped and she looked down to see she was leaving a trail of bloody footprints behind her.

  Perfect, if the cameras didn’t pinpoint her location, the blood trail would, she thought, as she ducked into the first bathroom she saw. Laying down her weapons, she jerked the towel dispenser until the face came off, then unrolled a wad. She ran cold water over the towels, lifted her skirt and presse
d them against the flesh wound. They were quickly soaked with blood, so she threw them in the trash and pulled down another wad to press it to the wound.

  The bathroom door opened, and a woman walked in. When the woman appeared around the stalls, Susan’s head rocked back on her shoulders, and she smiled as she came face to face with just the woman she wanted to see. Bertie Williams stood there with her jaw halfway to her navel.

  “Well, well,” Susan said feeling for her .38 on the counter.

  Bertie’s eyes fell on the weapons, she screamed, then turned and ran for the door. Susan ran after her, but slipped on the puddle of blood on the floor and went down hard. The door swooshed shut and Susan knew she needed to get out of there fast or she’d be trapped like a rabbit. She dragged herself back to her feet and picked up the Sig from the counter to tuck it into her waistband. She carefully treaded to the door and opened it to peek out.

  Think, Susan, think, she coached herself. You’re running around in circles here. And she was bleeding very badly, she noticed, when her eyes dropped to the new puddle of blood on the floor. She had to stop that bleeding or she’d eventually pass out. She could not afford to pass out. Dr. Warman had a keycard, and the key to that medicine cabinet in the treatment room she was in the other night.

  Opening the bathroom door again, she walked out. The glass door that led to the atrium opened at the same time and Logan walked through. He stopped and someone behind him cursed. Her heart took a plunge to her toes, then shot back up to dance in her chest. She smiled, but it faded when he rolled his eyes, and shook his head. His eyes fell to her skirt and he frowned, his face turned pale, and those muscle ticks started in his face.

  Someone pushed him from behind, and Susan ducked back inside the bathroom, but cracked the door so she could see. Logan staggered through the door, but didn’t look her way, he walked to the left just like the man behind him with the gun urged him to do. Another armed man came in behind that one, then another. Too many for her to overtake. He had a whole platoon of goombahs guarding him. But she could follow and look for an opportunity, Susan thought, as she quietly left the bathroom and walked behind them, ducking into alcoves and hiding behind bushes when she could. Somehow she avoided being seen by the men. The cameras were another story. She saw every one she passed, and knew someone was probably seeing her too, so she needed to do something soon.

  Her opportunity came when they stopped to talk to a few other guards. Susan hid around the corner, and watched them talk, argue and then split off into groups of two. Only two were left guarding Logan then. She put her .38 into her waistband and pulled the Sig, because it had better range. She got set, drew a breath, then yelled, “Left!” Logan put his left shoulder into the guy to his left, at the same time she fired and hit the guard on his right. They fell to the floor, but she saw then that Logan’s hands were tied behind his back.

  Logan rolled over onto his back and pushed backwards with his feet as the guard towered over him with a pistol. The mobster glanced over his shoulder at her, then back at Logan. When he glanced away again, Logan kicked him hard in his knee joint. With a loud grunt, the thug fell like a tree. Susan ran over there, because she knew it wouldn’t be long before he recovered.

  He got right up to his knees and aimed his weapon at Logan’s head. Susan didn’t think about it, she fired. His gun went off, as he fell, right on top of Logan who had to be crushed, or shot. She was afraid to look, as she put her shoulder into pushing the mobster off of Logan.

  “Are you alright,” she asked, with her heart in her throat.

  He wheezed a few times, then took a deep breath and looked at her. His eyes were dark pools of misery. “The question is, are you okay? You’re the one bleeding to death.” he said, his voice sounding sick.

  “Flesh wounds bleed, Logan,” she said, blowing off his concern, even though it now felt like someone was holding a white hot branding iron to her hip. “I’m fine, but I won’t be if you don’t get your ass up and moving. We’ve got to find those girls and get out of here.”

  “We have to leave them, and save ourselves, sweet cheeks. The guys can come back tonight,” he said, as he sat up and Susan helped him up to his feet.

  “Those women won’t be here tonight. Dex was right, they’re abandoning the lab, and probably either killing the women or taking them with them. My bet is they’ll kill them, because taking them would slow them down. They can’t leave them here alive. They know too much.”

  Susan leaned down, and yanked the keycard lanyard over the dead guard’s head, and picked up his weapon. “We can find something to cut you loose in that medical room we were in the other day. And I can get a dressing.”

  She shoved one of the guns into Logan’s suit pocket then started walking, and Logan followed her. He was tied, but at least she wasn’t alone now. And he wasn’t dead. Her stomach rolled, and she bit her lower lip to stop the whimper that tried to escape. It had been a damned close call for him. Now, was not the time to think about all that. Falling apart was not an option.

  They were both alive and needed to keep their heads straight to stay that way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  They were going to die today. There was no doubt in Logan’s mind, as he followed Susan down the hallway and stood back while she swiped the keycard through the slot. Tomorrow morning they would be just as dead as Dr. Warman, whom they had to step over to get to the door. She’d calmly taken his set of keys from his pocket and his keycard lanyard from around his neck.

  Susan had killed at least three men today so far, and there were at least eleven more floating around this clinic. They were mobsters, gangsters and thugs. He and Susan were outmanned, outgunned and out of luck. Those men knew the layout of this facility, he and Susan knew very little. The only good thing was, other than the women they were trying to rescue, there weren’t any more innocent bystanders here. As far as he could tell, the clinic was empty except for the guards and a few others. Those who were here were the ones who needed to be shot, so that made things easier. Dave would feel a lot better once his hands were untied, so he might be able to help her.

  The only thing that gave him a little hope was the fact that one guard had helped that surrogate escape. If they could get out of here alive, so could Susan and Dave. Bringing the women though added several wildcards to the equation.

  He wanted so badly to beg her, no demand, that Susan just leave the women behind, but he couldn’t do that to her. Dave knew her motivation came from knowing her sister could easily have been one of those women. But the same reason the bad guys were leaving those women behind is exactly why they should too. Taking those women with them would only slow down their escape, if one was even possible.

  “I’m sorry for insisting we come here,” Dave said as she opened the door and held it open for him. “You were right, we should’ve kept to the original plan.” If they had, they wouldn’t be in this situation.

  “It’s not your fault, Logan, and I’m glad we’re here. Those women would die if we weren’t. We have to get ourselves cleaned up and find them.”

  Those women. The nine women who were somewhere in this facility. Or dead already. If they found them dead, he felt sure Susan would have a breakdown. Dave knew now that tough exterior of hers was mostly an act. Her coat of quills against the tough world she’d lived in for so long. The same world he’d lived in. Dave counted himself a lucky bastard for having gotten past that coat to see the beautiful, caring woman Susan Whitmore was inside.

  A sharp pain pierced his chest, and he groaned.

  “You okay?” Susan asked, leaving a trail of bloody footprints as she led the way down the hall to the medical room. She opened the door, glanced at the camera down the hall and frowned. “I sure hope that thing is still out of order.”

  “They haven’t had time to fix it, I don’t think,” Logan said, as he followed her inside the room.

  “Well, let’s make this quick, just in case,” Susan said walking to the medicine cabinet an
d opening the door. “The lock on the cabinet is still busted, so that makes me feel a little better about the camera.” She tiptoed and pulled gauze down from the top shelf, then got tape from the second. Antiseptic was on the lowest shelf, and she sat it all on the counter, then opened drawers until she found a pair of shears. “Come here and let me cut that rope,” she said.

  “It’s a zip tie,” he said walking over to her and turning his back. The plastic parted and pins and needles started in his hands as blood circulated. He rubbed them until he had feeling back in his fingers. “Thanks, now lift that skirt and let me take care of you,” he said gruffly, organizing the supplies.

  “That sounds like an offer I’d love to take you up on,” Susan said with a laugh that surprised him. “But I can do it.”

  “Sit down and lift your skirt,” he repeated, narrowing his eyes. “I want to look at that wound.”

  “Yes, doctor,” she said playfully, as she backed up to sit in the chair against the wall. “But it’s my hip, not my thigh.”

  “Then take the damned thing off! You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” And want to see again when they weren’t about to lose their lives.

  She slid out of her skirt and sat again. Dave walked over to her, and seeing the raw, ragged four-inch trench right above the band of her underwear made him sick. His heart beat erratically, as he knelt to rub his thumb over the smooth skin surrounding the wound. His eyes burned, as he choked out, “Susan, I…” The words stuck in his damned throat and he couldn’t force them out.

  Her hand dropped on his shoulder. “Man up, Logan, and just do it. If I can’t fall apart, you can’t either. Just get it covered, and let’s get out of here. We’ve got work to do yet.”

  Yes, and obviously this was not the time to have this discussion with her, he thought, as he nodded, unboxed the gauze, and poured antiseptic on it. She leaned her hip up so he could apply the antiseptic.