by Chloe Lang
“They’re gone.” Juan’s eyes welled up.
He shot out the door. Scanning the area, it was clear to him that Cindy must’ve gotten a cell from the bastard who had shot up the town and blown up his parents’ business.
Kip’s sister’s car was nowhere to be found. There was no sign of the bitch or of Belle. Rushing back into the building, he saw Corey kneel down in front of Juan.
“Okay, son. Tell us exactly what happened.”
“It was the lady in the room next to mine. When I heard the shooting in the hallway, I ducked down under my bed. Cindy came in, grabbed my legs, pulled me out, and put a gun to my head.”
Where had she gotten a gun? Likely from the dead man in black. I knew she couldn’t be trusted.
“She made me go outside to her car and kept telling me she was going to kill me if I didn’t do what she said. Mom showed up. Cindy told Mom if she got in the trunk, I would be let go unharmed.”
What do she and Kip want with Belle? It didn’t make any sense.
“I didn’t know what to do. I saw a rock and thought about throwing it at Cindy but she slammed down the lid on top of Mom before I had a chance to. Then she told me to close my eyes and count to one hundred or she was going to kill Mom.”
All Shane could feel inside was pure rage.
Juan’s eyes were wide. “As soon as I heard her drive off with Mom and thought she could no longer see me, I stopped counting and ran in.”
That likely meant Trollinger had only a few seconds lead on them. The boat and the explosion had been a diversion to spread the team thin. No one is guarding the bridge.
“Did I do the right thing?”
“You did great.” Corey pointed to Nicole. “Juan, stay here with Miss Nicole. We will go get Mom.”
Shane ran around the courthouse with Corey. He brought out his cell. “Call Black.”
As they sprinted, Corey pulled out the keys to his truck, which was parked out front.
“Shane, what’s your status?”
Jumping into the passenger’s seat of the truck, he filled Easton in on all that had gone down at the courthouse as Corey hit the gas. When they turned left on West Street, he saw Trollinger’s car. “We’ve got eyes on her vehicle now, sir.”
“We’re on our way.” By Black’s heavy breathing, Shane knew he was running. “I’ll get Jason on the horn with the state patrol. Keep the line open.”
Setting up roadblocks would take too much time.
He and Corey had to catch the bitch. They had to save Belle.
Corey turned right without slowing down, causing the tires to squeal.
“We’re half a mile from the bridge, sir.” Shane was one of the best shots that came out of the Agency, but he wouldn’t dare try until he knew he had a clean shot. Belle was in the trunk. “We are closing the distance.”
The car ahead went over the bridge.
Shooting Trollinger or the tires was a risk at this high speed. But they didn’t have a choice if they had any chance of saving Belle.
He aimed his gun, tightened his finger on the trigger. And then everything went to hell. The Silver Spoon Bridge blew up right in front of them.
Corey hit the brakes, bringing the truck to a stop just at the edge of the new drop-off the explosion had created.
Cursing, Shane slammed his fists into the dashboard. He’d failed Belle. She was gone, in the car of a madman’s sister.
* * * *
Juan is safe.
No matter what happened—that was the most important thing to Belle.
But she wasn’t ready to die. She had Juan, who needed her. She’d just found the loves of her life—Shane and Corey. My family.
Amber was going to have a baby. Belle was going to be an aunt. The orphans at the Boys Ranch needed her.
She had so much to live for.
Something had exploded just as they’d left Destiny. By the sound, she guessed whatever had suffered the bomb had to be near—the bridge or one of the buildings close to it.
Once again, she prayed for the sweet people of the town she loved. Paris, with her brilliant mind and warm heart. Gretchen and Ethel, the sweet matriarchs of Destiny. Kaylyn, whose love of animals and generous soul amazed everyone. And so many more. Every neighbor and shopkeeper, every teacher and student, every man and woman. Destiny was Belle’s home.
Lunceford and his horrible sister had declared war on the town she loved, and right now, Belle was the only one on the front lines. What did Cindy want with her? Was she only a pawn in a much bigger evil scheme of Lunceford? She had no clue but knew she must fight. She wasn’t going to give up until she drew her last breath. Nothing would stop her.
For the past couple of hours she’d been Trollinger’s prisoner. The bitch had thrown Belle’s cell to the pavement before shoving her into the trunk, leaving her no way to communicate.
Cindy’s car was quite old, so there was no trunk release and the backseat didn’t fold down. In the blackness, Belle had felt around for any tire-changing tools that could help her but found none. The only success she’d had was pulling out the wires from the brake lights. When she tried to push them out so she could stick her hand through to signal to others, neither one would budge. Her only hope was that a patrolman would see Trollinger’s brake lights were out.
Now, all she could do was wait and pray.
* * * *
Corey drove the brand new Boys Ranch bus, whose passengers were the rest of Shannon’s Elite—not counting Jena, Nicole, Cooper, and Jonas.
Jena had not only knocked Lunceford out of the system and off their ROC devices, but had also isolated the remote server farm where all his transmissions were originating. Kip’s digital eyes, ears, and mouth were offline because of her. Jena remained at TBK and was still trying to lock on to the physical location of his data center.
Nicole had remained with the two fallen teammates.
They’d learned from a call from Doc that Cooper would survive, but Jonas was dead.
Corey’s gut coiled into a knot of rage.
They’d lost so much time after the bridge exploded. Crawling down the ravine to the water below and swimming to the other side had slowed them down.
The Stone brothers had brought the bus down from the ranch, which was on the opposite side of the destroyed bridge. Their wife, Belle’s sister, had been scared to death and made him and Shane swear they would save Belle.
That was exactly what he intended to do. What I must do. His pulse pounded like a jackhammer in his temples.
Black and Jason were in constant touch with local Wyoming law enforcement, trying to tighten the noose around Trollinger. Unfortunately, due to the unprecedented visit of the vice president to Cheyenne, the team only had access to a lone sheriff and two deputies. Black had been the one to say what they all already suspected. Lunceford had clearly chosen well his day of attack on Destiny.
Shane stared at the GPS. He was tracking the car that was taking Belle to some unknown destination. “Trollinger just took a right off of 287 onto Wyoming 135. About an hour ahead.”
An hour too much.
* * * *
Belle heard a siren. Please, God.
Trollinger’s car came to a stop.
The siren stopped.
Even her breathing stopped.
In that instant, everything came to a standstill in the deafening silence.
Belle screamed as loud as she could and kicked the lid of the trunk.
She heard gunshots.
The trunk opened.
Kip’s sister glared at her, holding a gun. “Sit up, bitch.”
She held her hands above her head. “Relax, Cindy.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw they were on a road that looked deserted other than the patrol car behind them.
“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do. I’m the one in charge. Take a look at what you made me do.”
The car’s lights were still flashing, and the officer was on the ground bleeding.
“Let m
e go to him, Cindy.” She could see the man was still breathing. “I can help.”
“Fucking do-gooder.” The woman walked over to the poor man and shot two more bullets into his head.
Belle’s heart stopped.
“Try that again, Belle, and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes. Am I clear?”
* * * *
Shane watched the dot on the screen start to move again, and his jaw clenched. Trollinger was getting away.
The deputy who had spotted the vehicle ten minutes ago, according to Sheriff Rose, his superior, had yet to radio back in.
Shane suspected the worst. Please let Belle be okay.
Jason had Rose on his cell’s speaker. The sheriff was driving to the spot where Deputy Clarkson had reported pulling Trollinger over. Rose was three miles from the location. Corey kept closing the gap, but they were still at least forty-five minutes away.
Everyone in the van sat in silence, anxious to hear what the sheriff would find.
“I see flashing lights up ahead,” Rose informed. “That’s got to be Clarkson’s car.”
They all held their breaths.
“Oh my God. Clarkson’s on the ground. He’s been shot in the head. My deputy is dead.”
Fuck.
Shane’s blood turned icy in his veins.
“Now, it’s personal.” Rose’s voice shook with rage. “There’s no sign of the vehicle. I’m going to find that bitch.”
Black took the cell and brought it up to his mouth. “Do not go by yourself, Sheriff. Wait for us. She won’t be alone. This is an order.”
“You can’t give me an order, Agent Black. CIA has no jurisdiction on domestic soil. I’m the law in Freemont County.”
“Marshal.” Black held the phone up to Corey.
Shane looked over at his brother, whose face stormed with torment.
“Sheriff, this is U.S. Marshal Corey Blue. I do have jurisdiction. You will wait for our arrival. You will not go alone. Am I clear?” Corey was dying inside, just like Shane.
There was a pause. Finally, Rose said, “Get your asses here fast, Marshal.”
“We will.”
Trollinger was a murderer, just like her motherfucking brother. She had Belle and might be taking her to Lunceford. The bastard had orchestrated everything.
Trollinger showing up at Lucy’s Burgers and feigning to pass out had been the beginning of it all. Why there? A place Belle just happened to be?
Kip had scripted Trollinger’s role, including the part where she feared he was coming for her. But the maniac certainly didn’t believe they would ever fully trust her. The reason for the coordinated attacks.
The explosives in the boat on Lover’s Beach had just been a diversion to spread the team thin.
Blue’s Diner blowing up was just another distraction, which forced him and Corey away from Belle.
Jena had uncovered the identity of the man in black who had showed up at the courthouse, injuring Cooper and killing Jonas. She’d uploaded her findings to all their ROCs. The shooter was a highly paid Russian assassin who specialized in bombs. Clearly, he was the one who had made the footprints in the snow, who had planted all the bombs around town, who had traveled to town by the boat they’d found on Lover’s Beach.
Had Lunceford’s intention been to get his assassin and Cooper and Jonas, two well-trained agents, to collide in a sea of bullets? Probably.
In all the confusion, Cindy had been able to force Juan out back to her car until Belle, who the bitch clearly knew would turn herself over for his release, had appeared.
The last explosion that took out the bridge, the only way in and out of Destiny by car, had been another piece of the puzzle.
From beginning to end, all of it—the bombings, the shootings, the kidnapping of Belle—was part of Lunceford’s diabolical war on Destiny.
One question kept rolling around and around in Shane’s head.
Why Belle? Why does Lunceford want her?
Chapter Sixteen
Belle felt Trollinger’s car come to a stop and her hear skipped several beats.
What is Cindy going to do with me?
She hadn’t been able to stop shaking since seeing the officer being shot in cold blood by the psychopath.
The trunk opened.
“Get out, bitch.” Trollinger seemed to be in some kind of panic.
Why?
Cindy stood next to the car, but her captor wasn’t alone.
Two large, scary-looking men flanked Kip’s sister.
Belle climbed out. Her leg muscles were stiff from being cramped during the long ride.
The land was quite flat. This definitely wasn’t Colorado.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, she could see the area was quite remote.
They were parked in front of a nondescript-looking building.
To her left were a couple of black sedans. To her right was a helicopter.
Is Kip inside?
Trollinger holstered her gun, which surprised Belle though it was clear the woman was still in charge. Cindy had the two men by her side. There were also three heavily armed goons on the rooftop that Belle had noticed. Who knew how many more were in the building?
“Belle, welcome to location zero-zero-seven.”
She didn’t miss the reference to James Bond. More of Lunceford’s arrogance, no doubt.
“Why did you bring me here?”
“For my brother, of course.” Cindy turned to the two thugs. “Get her into the building.” The woman didn’t wait to see if her orders were followed, but instead marched off to the entrance.
The one whose arms were covered in tats glared at her. “You heard the lady, vozlyublennaya.”
Russian mobsters.
Belle was aware of what had happened to Phoebe in Chicago. It was well known that Mitrofanov’s son Anton had betrayed his father. Anton was obviously still working with Lunceford.
Walking between the two men, Belle’s thoughts were of Shane and Corey. In her heart, she had no doubt they—at this very moment—were using every means at their disposal to try to find her. Her guys were not the kind of men who gave up. But even with Black’s help, how could Shane and Corey discover this remote place?
Somehow, she had to find a way to escape this nightmare.
I wish I knew how to fly a helicopter.
Of course, she didn’t.
Her only hope was to get the keys to one of the cars, break free of Cindy and her thugs, and drive like hell out of here.
It was a long shot, but the only one she had left.
The two mobsters walked her down a hallway and through a set of doors. Cindy stood in front of a monitor and keyboard. The room was set up with the latest high-tech medical equipment.
It’s an operating room. Maybe Kip actually did have leukemia. Is that why Cindy brought me here?
“I’m a nurse, but I can’t perform a bone marrow transplant. You need a doctor for that. Someone who specializes in that kind of procedure.”
The lunatic shoved Belle a good ten feet away by the surgical table. “You are not performing the procedure, you idiot. You are the donor.”
Belle couldn’t wrap her head around what she’d just been told. “That’s impossible. I can’t be a match for Lunceford.”
“Yes, it’s possible. By now you realize you cannot escape. I have ten heavily armed men here under my command that will ensure you stay put.” Cindy placed her gun on the counter and began typing furiously on the keyboard, staring up at its monitor.
A man in scrubs walked into the room.
Cindy looked over her shoulder at her, a horrific, twisted grin spreading across her face. “Doctor.” She turned to the two mobsters. “This bitch isn’t going anywhere. Go check with Zakhar. See if he’s heard from Kip. He should’ve been here by now.”
The two men nodded and left.
“This has to be a mistake, Cindy. You’re Lunceford’s sister. The odds are you would be a match. Have you been tested?”
“Of course I was tested, bitch, but Kip and I are only half siblings. I would give my life for him, but it turns out that you will be the one to do that instead of me.”
“Wait. I don’t have to give my life. This is a simple procedure.” Belle still didn’t like the idea of anything from her body saving that monster. “Cindy, donating bone marrow doesn’t end the life of the donor.”
“Shut the fuck up. Of course I know that. But this is a special circumstance, and my brilliant brother doesn’t ever leave loose ends. You are the perfect match, bitch.”
Belle’s head was spinning and her heart was racing. She spotted the table with the surgical implements. They were two steps to her left. The doctor was reading a chart, likely Kips.
I need to keep her talking. If I can just get my hands on one of those scalpels…“Was anything you told us true?”
“Some. Kip is my half brother. He changed my identity after he executed our father and his mother. He’d rescued me from a foster home when I was a teenager. He helped me find my mother. The bitch abandoned me when I was five years old.” Cindy’s voice became lyrical. “She had to die. She was my first.”
Belle gulped, realizing what first must mean.
“Seeing the horror in her eyes when I put the knife to her throat was such a pleasure. Nothing like losing your virginity, is there?”
She’s completely insane. Belle took a deep breath. Insane or not, keep her talking. Sooner or later, they must intend to kill me. “How can you be sure I’m a match?” She started to take a step to the instrument table, but the doctor suddenly glanced up from the chart.
She froze, praying for him to look down again.
“Not that it matters one way or the other whether you know or not, but you certainly must realize my brother is a genius. Kip hacked into the national bone marrow registry and found you and two other matches, but of course he chose you.”
Belle had signed up with the national bone marrow registry when she’d worked in her ex’s practice.
Ninety-three percent of patients were able to find one or two matches from the ten million plus potential registered donors. Kip found three.