Cathy smiled tightly and motioned for Donovan to join them. “Now, what happened with Neville?”
Donovan explained what they’d found—and not found—at Neville’s estate.
“Which leaves us no closer to finding Cody Sanders.” She sighed, her frustration showing.
“There’s Digger,” Donovan said. “And there’s Neville’s morbid mansion.”
“And we can’t touch it,” Cathy said, eyeing him closely.
Erin met Donovan’s gaze, realizing that for once they agreed on a course of action. One way or another, Middleburg held the answers. All they needed was one small push, just one shred of hope that the key to finding Cody Sanders was inside.
Again, Donovan’s phone rang, and Erin held her breath, hoping it was the call they’d been waiting for.
Donovan answered, listened, then nodded to Erin that they’d finally gotten a break. “Wait,” he said as the caller disconnected. A couple of seconds later, Donovan did the same.”That was Digger,” he said. “He told us where to find the boy.”
Erin expected it was too much to hope that the boy who was waiting for them was Cody Sanders. Just as it was too much to believe that the Magician was really dead. It was more likely they’d find the second boy Digger had mentioned, the one he’d referred to as his son.
Or an ambush, courtesy of the General.
“The boy needs help,” Digger had said, without identifying himself or which boy he meant. Then he’d instructed Donovan to follow a small, rural route off one of the smaller back highways, giving the distances in kilometers.
“Look to the left,” he’d said, just before ending the abbreviated, one-sided conversation. “Behind the trees.”
It wasn’t until they’d reached the location that they’d seen the dilapidated barn, sitting well back from the road, almost hidden from sight. Donovan turned onto an overgrown road and parked behind the shabby building.
For a moment neither he nor Erin spoke.
The place looked like it had been deserted for years. Broken glass etched the dark windows. Long grasses grew up to the foundation, and kudzu marched up the walls. Yet it was impossible to tell whether the actual structure was sound or not.
Erin pulled out the Glock Cathy had lent her and checked the clip.
Alec reached across her to the glove compartment and grabbed a flashlight. “Here,” he said, handing it to her. “I have another in the trunk.”
Quickly, he’d retrieved a second flashlight and they moved quietly toward the barn. At the rear wall, they split up, each taking a different side, working toward the front, ducking beneath the glassless windows, listening for some sound from inside, and finally meeting up again at the entrance.
Stopping. Erin braced herself, watching Donovan do the same.
Going through the door was the dangerous part. If this was an ambush, here was where it would hit them.
“Wait here,” Alec mouthed, and went in first, slipping into the dark interior, leading with his gun.
Erin waited. Ten seconds. Twenty.
She was just about to follow him, despite his instructions, when he cracked the door and motioned her inside.
Silence. And a heavy darkness, ripe with the smell of rotting hay.
Alec pointed toward the first stall, and they split up again. She took the right side, he the left, cautiously working their way down toward the back, flashlights level with their weapons, sweeping each stall in turn.
Erin found him.
The boy. Cowering in the last stall, wrapped in a heavy plaid blanket. Her flashlight played over his face, and she saw his fear. And the bruises. Not Cody.
Lowering the Beretta, she held up a hand. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“Donovan, over here,” she said.
She slipped the gun into the waistband of her jeans and edged into the stall. The boy, though obviously frightened, didn’t back away. She approached slowly, and as she got closer, she realized he was older than she’d first thought. Probably in his early teens.
“My name’s Erin,” she said.
The boy looked behind her, and she glanced back to see Donovan standing just outside the stall door.
“That’s Agent Donovan,” she said. “He’s not coming in here, but he’s with the FBI, and he’s here to help you.”
“What about you? Are you with the FBI, too?”
Reaching his side, Erin dropped to her knees. “No, I’m just helping out. What’s your name?”
A brief hesitation, then, “Ryan.”
Digger’s son. She reached up to brush the hair from his forehead and got a better look at his injuries. “How did you get here, Ryan?”
“Did he send you?”
Erin again glanced back at Donovan, who nodded. “We don’t know his name. We just got a call that you needed help.”
“Big man, heavy accent,” Donovan said, keeping his distance so as not to startle the boy.
“Yes, Herrick, that’s him,” the boy supplied, a ghost of a smile teasing his mouth. Or maybe just relief. “He got me out and brought me here.”
“Is he your father?” Erin asked.
Ryan brow furrowed. “No, he works for the General.”
“The General?” Though she knew whom Ryan meant, she didn’t want to put a name in his mouth.
“General Neville.”
Erin sighed. Maybe not Cody, but another boy caught beneath Neville’s thumb. “Okay, Ryan, let’s get you out of here.” She reached out to touch him. He winced, and she noticed the dressing on his arm. “What happened?”
“I was trying to run, and one of the dogs caught me.”
“And your face?”
He shuddered. “No, that was Trader.”
Erin understood his fear and held the flashlight beneath her face so he could see. “I think I met him as well. Come on, we’ll get you to a hospital.”
Behind her, she could hear Donovan talking into his cell phone, calling for backup and an ambulance.
“Wait,” Ryan said. “Cody needs your help more than me.”
Erin went very still.
“Cody?” Donovan stepped into the stall.
Ryan focused on Donovan. “Trader is coming for him tonight, and they’re going to send him away. Out of the country. You’ve got to help him.”
“Where is he?” Donovan asked, crouching down beside Erin.
“In the mansion.”
“Do you know where?”
Ryan hesitated. “I think so. But after we tried to run—” He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
“Cody tried to run, too?” Erin said.
“Yes, but the dogs caught us. Then the guards locked me in the cellar, but they probably just put Cody back in his room.”
“Was he hurt?”
“I don’t think so. But you’ve got to get him out.” He looked from one to the other of them. “Herrick said he couldn’t do anything, but you could. He said to tell you he’d take care of the cameras.”
Erin looked to Donovan and saw the resignation and determination in his eyes. They were going in, and to hell with the consequences. This was all the push, all the incentive, they needed.
XXX
ALEC WOULDN’T TRADE one child’s life for another.
So he and Erin waited for the ambulance, despite Ryan’s insistence that they didn’t have time. Once the paramedics had arrived, along with a couple of local police cars, he knew the boy was in good hands, and it was time.
Alec and Erin headed toward Neville’s estate.
As they drove, they went over their plan, what there was of it. Basically, they were counting on Herrick shutting down the cameras long enough for them to get in, grab the boy, and get out before anyone noticed.
Of course, Alec knew it wouldn’t go that smoothly and expected Erin understood this as well. But they had no other choice. They were mounting a raid on a foreign diplomat’s property, breaking enough laws to put them both away for a
very long time. They couldn’t call for backup or ask for help. Nor could they afford the time to go through the proper channels. Even if that worked, which Alec doubted, Cody Sanders would be long gone by then.
So they were going to do this. Legal or not. Good idea or not. Alone.
As they’d agreed, he pulled off to the side of the road, just out of sight of the guardhouse. Quickly, they checked their cache of weapons, stashing extra clips in their pockets. He had a SIG and a backup Glock 19 on his ankle. Erin had Cathy’s Glock and her own Ruger.
“Ready?” she asked.
He took a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be.”
She smiled tightly and opened the door.
“Erin,” he said, and she looked back at him. “Be careful.”
She grinned. “Always.” Then closed the door and faded into the trees.
He counted to a hundred, slowly, then started up again, driving toward the estate entrance and turning in. Neville’s guard flagged him down, walking to the side of his car as he rolled down his window, his FBI identification ready.
“Special Agent Donovan, FBI, here to see General Neville.”
The guard shook his head. “No. Not here.”
“What do you mean, he’s not here? I have an appointment.”
“Not here.”
Alec spotted movement behind the man. “You better check with your supervisor, Buddy, because—”
With a grunt, the man slid to the ground, the butt of Erin’s Ruger rendering him unconscious.
Alec jumped out of the car. “I’ll take care of him. You get the gate.”
He grabbed the man’s arms, dragging him toward the woods, as Erin scaled the iron railing. Quiet. Nimble. Perfectly at home stealing onto foreign territory in the dead of night. Alec found it a bit unsettling.
By the time he’d tied up the man and gotten back to the car, the heavy gate was open and Erin was behind the wheel. Alec didn’t argue with her.
Climbing into the passenger seat, he said, “Let’s hope Herrick wasn’t lying about those cameras. Otherwise, this is going to get rough real fast.”
“Hey, I like it rough,” Erin countered, and drove through the gates.
“Oh, yeah? Well, we’ll have to talk about that if we make it through the next hour alive.”
She laughed, in her element in a way that unnerved and surprised him. He’d seen the fighter in her, the warrior, and had thought it was merely a way to disguise her vulnerability. Now he saw that it was more than that. She thrived on the danger, the challenge of it, and that made him nervous.
She navigated the winding road without lights, until just before leaving the shelter of the trees. Then she turned off the engine and let the car glide soundlessly down the hill to the mansion.
When they came to a stop, Alec slipped out, keeping low and leaving the door ajar. Erin shimmied across the front seat to join him, crouching beside the passenger side of the vehicle.
So far, so good. No signs that anyone knew they were here.
“Cover me,” he whispered, and darted for the front door, where he pressed his back against the wood within the shadows.
Erin, a two-fisted grip on her gun, took up a position by the car’s fender.
Alec picked the lock, then signaled to her.
After another quick glance around, she darted to his side. Together, they slipped into the mansion’s main foyer, closing the door soundlessly behind them.
Empty. Quiet.
It should have been a relief. Instead, it felt suddenly all wrong.
“I don’t like this,” Erin said, voicing his thoughts as she scanned the room. “It just doesn’t feel right.”
“Yeah. Let’s find the boy and get out.”
She nodded, nervous, and followed him as he took the wide front steps two at a time. Three quarters of the way up, the staircase forked. He veered left, as Ryan had instructed, and met a locked door sealing off the entrance to the east wing.
Again, Alec pulled out his pick to attack the locks.
Suddenly, from below them, came approaching voices, harsh and urgent.
Erin dove to the floor, taking aim through the balustrade. “Get the boy, I’ll cover you.”
Alec worked the lock, and just as it clicked open, a shout went out, the voices below rising to shouts as the men spotted the intruders.
Erin dropped the first man, while the second fell back, returning fire.
“Hurry,” she said. “Neville’s entire army’s going to be breathing down our necks any minute.”
Alec slipped into the corridor, his SIG pointed toward the ceiling as he counted doors. “The seventh room on the left,” Ryan had said. “If they haven’t moved him.” Alec was on five when a big man bolted from a room two doors away.
Herrick.
“Go back,” he called. “It’s a trap.”
Behind him, a second man burst into the hallway, shooting, his expression shocked when he spotted Alec.
Herrick stumbled, then staggered forward, as a bullet caught him in the back.
Alec fired, dropping the attacker in the doorway, then went to Herrick and pulled him to the side.
“The boy? Cody?” Alec asked. “Where is he?”
“Gone. Out the back. A few minutes ago. I tried to stop them.”
“Where are they taking him?”
Herrick shook his head, licked his lips. “Airport, I think.”
“Which airport?”
“Ryan?” Herrick gripped Alec’s hand, his eyes losing focus. “Is he—”
“He’s safe. Which airport, Herrick?”
But the man had uttered his last words.
Another burst of gunfire came from the foyer, snapping Alec back to awareness of his own precarious position.
“What’s the holdup?” Erin called.
Alec raced out to take a position beside her. “I think we’re in trouble.”
“Herrick?” she asked.
“Dead.”
“What about Cody?”
“Gone. They took him out a back way.”
“Come on, then,” she said. “We need to get out of here.”
She was truly crazy, he decided, though he followed her as she inched along the railing toward the steps.
“Do you have a death wish or something?” he asked.
“There’s only a few of them left, about three or four.” She shot him a grin. “We can take them. Besides, how long before they come at us from one of these upper hallways, and we’re pinned down from both sides?”
“You have a point.”
“On the count of three.” She had the Glock in one hand and the Ruger in the other. “You take the left. I’ll take the right.”
Alec grabbed his backup weapon from his ankle. “Okay, let’s go.”
They stood together, firing, scrambling toward the steps and down.
He spotted two men in the left, first-floor corridor, one behind the other, using a massive pillar for coverage. He was just past the fork in the stairway when one swung out while the other covered him with a spray of bullets. Alec dropped to his side, sliding, and put a bullet in the exposed man. The other fell back along the wall and out of sight.
“Shit.” Alec was going to pay for that maneuver. If they lived that long. He rolled, at the bottom now, as Erin’s Ruger chased her men into hiding as well.
Silence again. And empty, save the half-dozen bodies littering the foyer and side corridors.
“Man,” he said. “You’ve been a busy girl.”
“There wasn’t much else to do,” she said as they sprinted across the foyer. “You were off playing with the boys.”
They flanked the double front doors, the car and relative safety on the other side, only yards away. Yet it might as well have been a mile.
“How many do you think are out there?” she asked.
Alec shook his head. “Haven’t a clue.”
“Me, neither, but we can’t stay here.”
For once he agreed with her. The retrea
ting guards would return, with reinforcements. And soon. “We’ll have to make a dash for it. Can you cover me?”
“I’m going first this time.” Before he could protest, she was out the door, zigzagging.
Gunfire came from around the corner of the mansion, chasing her across the wide porch. Alec swung out, firing both weapons at the hidden shooter. Erin leapt from the porch, tucking and rolling as she hit the ground. She came up unhurt against the rear fender and ducked behind it as she assumed a shooter’s stance.
Alec took a deep breath, then raced across the slick concrete. A bullet grazed his sleeve, sending a sliver of sweat down his spine, and he slid in beside her. “Damn, that was close.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah, but I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“Easier said than done.”
From the garage, farther down the hill, came the roar of an engine. Alec squinted into the approaching lights, then flattened against the sedan’s fender as a black Lincoln Town Car raced past, splattering muddy water as it headed for the gate.
“Cody’s in the car,” he said. “We have to—”
A fresh burst of gunfire erupted. Two men, dark shadows in the moonless night, automatics blazing, started up the hill toward him and Erin. They brought out the other two guards as well, the ones who’d been using the side of the mansion for cover.
Alec dropped, returning fire. “It’s now or never. If we don’t get out of here before the others reach the front door, we’ll be sitting ducks.”
“Who’s driving?”
“Me.” He scrambled, crablike, toward the driver’s door and pulled it open.
Erin clambered into the passenger seat, leaning half in, half out, as she fired through the crack in the open door. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on,” he said, and threw the car in gear.
Erin slammed her door, and Alec switched on the brights.
A guard, close, reflexively tossed up his hands to shield his eyes. Alec floored the accelerator and yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, forcing the vehicle into a sharp U-turn. The guard dove sideways, but not before the sedan clipped his leg, sending him flying.
Heading back in the right direction, Alec gunned it, and the car leapt forward.
Out of Reach: A Novel Page 24