by L. T. Ryan
She did, followed by Vinson and Braden. Sam and I remained behind, watching the television with Darrel. A tense few minutes passed. McCree stood up suddenly. The man opposite him leaned back and raised his arms in the air. I noticed McCree had a gun aimed at the guy. He reached across the table with his free hand, grabbed the bag and began to back away.
“You gotta let her know,” I said to Darrel.
He tapped at the side of his head, then the com box on his waist. “It’s dead.”
I sprinted to the door, pulled it open, then raced down the hall. Only problem was I had no idea where it led to or how to get to the lobby and the entrance to the dining room. I did the only thing one could do in that situation and followed the numbers down. We were on the first floor, so I only needed to find the elevators to lead me to the lobby.
From my position in the hall, I heard a collective scream erupt following a gunshot. Who’d fired the gun, and had anyone been hit? I ran faster. Sam called for me from behind. I glanced over my shoulder and saw him running toward me. I didn’t slow down for him. I reached an intersection in the hallway. I glanced to the left and saw more rooms. When I looked to the right, it was obvious that was the direction I needed to go. A throng of people headed toward me, and another group went in the opposite direction, toward the front doors.
I kept going until I stood in the lobby. The entrance to the hotel’s dining room was to my left. Vinson and Braden stood outside it with their guns drawn. McCree came through the open doorway a few minutes later. He held Bridget hostage, using her as a bullet shield, pressing his gun tight to the side of her head.
It only occurred to me at that moment that Sam and I were unarmed.
Sam cursed under his breath as he came to a stop next to me.
McCree saw us and he smiled. He was missing one of his top front teeth. “Hello, Detectives.”
“Let her go, McCree,” I said. “You don’t want her.”
“I don’t?” he said.
“No, you want me. You know it. Let her go and take me with you.”
“Mitch,” Sam said. “What the hell are you doing?”
I shook my head slightly and took a step forward. “Come on, man, let her go.”
Ben McCree took a few steps backward, dragging Bridget along with him. I mirrored his movements, moving forward at a slightly faster and longer clip. He shook his head and aimed his pistol at me for a second. “Stop right there.”
I lifted my shirt, turned in a circle, then held out my arms. “I’m unarmed.” Two more steps forward. “Just let her go and take me.”
He looked from me to Vinson and Braden. “Place your guns on the ground and then back away.”
They didn’t move.
“Do what he says,” I said.
“No,” Bridget said.
“Let me handle this, Bridget,” I said. I looked at the two agents. “Drop them.” Sam placed his hand on my shoulder. I wriggled free from his grasp and took a few more steps toward McCree.
“Far enough, Detective,” he said. Then he removed his arm from Bridget’s neck. In one fluid motion, he kicked her to the ground and swung his weapon toward me. “Don’t move!”
I didn’t. My gaze shifted from him toward the floor, where it settled in on Bridget. “You okay?”
Before she could respond, McCree fired at her. She screamed and collapsed to the ground while a dark red spot blossomed around her midsection. Vinson and Braden headed toward their guns. McCree shot at the feet of the men and they froze in place.
“Come with me, Detective,” McCree shouted.
I walked toward him as calmly as I could. I had to control the situation. That meant getting McCree out of the hotel and onto the street. He’d be slightly disoriented and that would be my opportunity to take him down. Of course, I realized at that moment that Sam’s training would have made him a better choice for this than me. Hindsight and all that. Nothing I could do.
McCree forced me to turn around. He placed the barrel of his gun against the back of my head. It was hot and singed my hair and my scalp. I clenched my jaw to keep from yelling.
“You best get me out of here before the other agents show up,” I said.
He nudged me in the back and we started toward the doors. The crowd that had dispersed had knocked one of the doors off its hinges. It lay on the ground, shattered. We exited through the doorway. He pulled the gun away from my head and adjusted his grip on my arm. An effort to draw himself closer to me, I presumed. It was time for me to act. I whipped my torso to the right and drew my left arm up. I planned on driving my left elbow into his ribs, as close to his sternum as I could manage. I couldn’t see to aim, but I had a good feel for where he was in relation to me.
“What the hell?” McCree managed to get out as I changed direction and started toward him. Gunfire erupted. My eyelids reflexively clenched shut. I waited for the searing pain, but never felt it. I did feel McCree sliding down my body. I heard him smack against the ground.
“Are you okay, Mitch?” It was Bridget.
I opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder. She stood ten feet away, clutching her pistol and holding herself up by leaning into the wall. In his haste, McCree had failed to disarm her.
“I had him,” I said.
“Yeah,” she said. “So did I until you came along playing hero.”
I looked around at the faces staring back at me. McCree bled out on the ground at my feet. I leaned over him and watched as he drew in his last ragged breath. His skin turned ashen and I knew life had left his body. Bridget came toward me. She pressed against a blood soaked section of her shirt. I rushed toward her and offered her my arms in support.
“Turns out you’re the hero today,” I said.
She smiled. The color in her face started to drain. Her eyelids fluttered.
“Are you okay?”
“Flesh wound,” she said, strained.
Behind her, an ambulance turned onto the street. I adjusted my arms and fully supported her. There was no doubt Bridget was a tough woman. She refused to go to the ground, instead choosing to stand victoriously over her assailant.
The paramedics took her from me and assisted her onto a gurney. She looked over at me and smiled. Before they placed the oxygen mask on her face, she said, “Will you come see me in Denver sometime soon?”
I smiled, nodded and lied. “Maybe, Bridget.”
Chapter 59
Sam and I caught a flight home the following day. By six that evening we were back in Philly. Good thing, too, because the Eagles played that night. We decided to watch the game at my house, figuring it’d help Sam escape the ire of his family, who were pissed off he’d missed the wedding. There was time for him to get to the reception, but after what we’d been through, he had little interest. Besides, we could drink at my place and not be bombarded with the Hokey Pokey.
Ella greeted us on the porch after we pulled up to the house. She had a big smile on her face, oblivious to what her daddy had just gone through. I wanted to keep it that way, too. My mother, on the other hand, looked concerned. She had no trouble expressing it either.
“Saw a report on the TV that the FBI woman on the case was shot down in the Virgin Islands.”
I nodded. Sam did the same.
“You two all right?” Momma asked.
“We’re fine,” I replied.
“All right, then,” she said. “We’ve got some pizza inside.”
“That’s a first,” Sam whispered to me.
Ella turned and ran to her grandmother, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside. She had on the custom jersey I’d purchased for her last Christmas. It had “Ella Kate” written across the top with double zeros for the number. She wore it all the time.
I crossed the porch and stopped at the front door. “Go on inside, Sam. I’ll be right there.”
He nodded as he passed by.
I went back through the screen door and stood in the middle of the driveway for a few minutes. The sun was setting a
nd the sky turned several different shades of red, orange and pink. It felt refreshing and gave me hope that there was a chance for new beginnings, even in an old life.
I pulled out my cell and placed a call down to Savannah. Cassie answered on the second ring.
“I wanted to thank you, Cassie. Your tip paid off. We got the girl, and we caught the bad guys.”
“Always happy to help, Mitch. How’s Bridget?”
I paused for a second. “She’s doing okay. On her way to her next post as far as I know. Anyway, any updates on that other thing?”
“Your missing wife and child?”
That’s what I loved about Cassie. No hesitation. “Yeah, that’d be it.”
“Sorry, Mitch. Nothing. If there ever is, I’ll let you know.”
I said goodbye and hung up. A gentle breeze blew across the porch. One of my neighbors was cooking steaks on their grill. Seemed like a good idea to me.
I walked over to the mailbox and pulled down the plastic door. There were a few bills and a couple coupon mailers. I hated those things. They never had anything I wanted. Buried at the bottom was something I did want, a postcard. My heart skipped a beat at the letter written in pencil. I ran to the porch and flipped on the light.
Hi Daddy! I’m having a great time on this vacation with Mommy. I sure miss you and Ella Kate, though. We’ve been all over, even through Texas. Too many of those blue stars there, though. I’m not allowed to tell you where we are right now, only that we are doing good. Mommy says I’ll get to see you soon. She says that a lot, though. I miss you. Love, Robbie.
Through watery eyes, I searched the postcard for a postmark. It had been sent four days ago from Denver, Colorado. Soon, Robbie, I thought. I’ll find you soon.
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Other Books by L.T. Ryan
Noble Beginnings: A Jack Noble Novel
In March of 2002, while the eyes of the world focused on Afghanistan, Jack Noble finds himself on the outskirts of Baghdad, Iraq. A Marine in name only, Jack is on-loan to the CIA. Normally an integral part of the team, he finds that he is nothing more than a security detail in Iraq.
Jack and his partner Bear have a run-in with four CIA special agents over the treatment of an Iraqi family. Within hours Jack and Bear are detained.
All Jack wanted was to finish his enlistment and move on with his life. All he did was intervene and save a family from unwarranted violence at the hands of four CIA agents. But he soon discovers that he did far more than intervene. He has placed himself dead square in the middle of a conspiracy that reaches the highest levels of the U.S. government.
Visit LTRyan.com for more information.
A Deadly Distance (Jack Noble #2)
Washington, D.C. Midday. A man waits at a bus stop, his intentions unknown. Two government operatives have been stalking him for days, waiting for him to make his move. Unexpectedly, the man takes off running and heads for a deserted warehouse.
Jack Noble and his partner, Frank Skinner, believe the man to be part of a terrorist organization that is involved in smuggling drugs and guns and men into the country. But it turns out their plan involves far more export than import, and hits a lot closer to home.
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Visit LTRyan.com for more information.
Also Available:
Noble Intentions: Season One (Episodes 1-5)
Noble Intentions: Season Two (Episodes 6-10)
Noble Intentions: Season Three (Episodes 11-15)
The Recruit: A Jack Noble Short Story
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Coming Soon:
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No Way Home (Jack Noble #4)
Noble Intentions: Season Four
Untitled (Mitch Tanner #2)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59