Fingers wet with blood, Rigel clawed at his throat. As Jordan walked toward him she pulled a second knife from its sheath, looked down on the gunman, drove her foot into his chest and pushed him onto his back.
Hanover staggered out of the bathroom and into the hallway, weapon drawn, expecting a gunfight. Instead, he saw Jordan atop the intruder, pinning him to the ground, a knife lodged in the man’s throat, a second blade pressed against his neck.
“Put it down, Jordan,” Chris said.
“He tried to kill us, Chris,” Jordan replied. “He came into this house. He wanted to kill my family, my children.”
“But he didn’t,” Chris reminded her. “You stopped him.”
“Not good enough.”
Chris stood beside her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “We have him, Jordan. It’s over.”
Jordan stared into Rigel’s eyes. “It’ll never be over. I have to live with this for the rest of my life.”
“I promise you you’ll get the answers you need.”
With her free hand, Jordan grabbed the handle of the knife embedded in the man’s throat. Rigel gurgled.
Chris warned her. “Right now, it’s one-hundred percent self-defence, Jordan. I’ll swear to that in court. But the second you turn that blade everything changes.”
Jordan’s hand trembled on the handle. She wanted to drive the blade in deep, twist it, finish him.
“Think about Emma and Aiden,” Chris said.
The faces of her children flashed through her mind.
She had already endured enough tragedy.
No more.
She let go of the knives, threw her hands aside.
Chris helped her to her feet. Rigel stared up at her from the floor. His eyes were vacant, his breathing labored, unsteady. He coughed up blood.
“No matter,” Jordan said. “The blade nicked his carotid. He’s done.” She picked up the Tec-9, slung it over her shoulder, and turned to Chris. “We need to get to the vault and let the others know we’re safe.”
The artwork on the hallway wall trembled, the floor vibrated. They heard the drone of a helicopter rotor. The craft was hovering above the house.
“Hostage Rescue Team,” Chris said. “They’ll be inside any second.”
Jordan looked down at Rigel. His good hand, fingers intact, lay across his chest. “What about him?”
“He’s not going anywhere,” Chris said. “Let HRT take out the trash. Let’s go.”
Jordan and Chris walked down the hallway. “How’s the shoulder,” she asked.
“Hurts like a sonofabitch.”
“You pushed me out of the way back there,” Jordan said.
“I know.”
“You saved my life.”
“I was just doing my --”
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The gunshots came from behind. Two of the bullets glanced off the wall. The third narrowly missed Chris’ head. Jordan spun around. The attacker lay on his side, a pistol in his outstretched hand. He was firing wildly. Jordan leveled the Tec-9 at the man she mistakenly thought she’d mortally wounded with the knife, pulled the trigger, and held it down as she walked towards him, watching his body dance on the floor as round after round tore through his head, torso, arms, and legs. Jordan didn’t stop firing until every round in the machine pistol was spent. Gray smoke poured out of the muzzle.
Chris pried the Glock out of the dead man’s hand. “He must have had it hidden in his vest,” he said. “My focus was on the Tec. I never thought to clear him. Jesus, Jordan. I’m sorry.”
Jordan pulled the knife out of Rigel’s throat, wiped the blade clean on his slug-riddled body armor, then returned the weapon to its sheath.
“I’m not,” she replied. “Not one damn bit.”
CHAPTER 57
“FOLLOW MY LEAD,” Chris told Jordan. They stood in the front entrance of the grand home, watching the agents deploy from the FBI Black Hawk helicopter as it set down on the front lawn of Farrow Estate. “Let’s go inside. HRT will secure the scene. Which means they’re going to treat you as a hostile until they know what’s going on. Drop your weapons on the floor and stand beside me.”
The Hostage Rescue Team stormed the home. Chris displayed his Bureau credentials, identified himself first. “This is Jordan Quest,” he told the tactical force Commander. “This is her family’s home. We have two down; one in the east wing, the other the west. Director Dunn and Special Agent Grant Carnevale are guarding the family in a locked room on the premises. There are two agents outside. Both may be down. Tell your men to sweep the grounds.”
“Copy that,” the Commander said. He motioned to his men. The agents dispersed. “You two okay?”
“Never better,” Jordan replied.
Jordan called to her godfather from outside the vault. “Uncle Grant, it’s me. I’m unlocking the door. Agent Hanover is with me.”
Jordan entered the code. The heavy metal door to the Collectables vault clicked open. The two agents stood in the middle of the room, weapons trained on the door as it swung open.
“Step inside, slowly,” Director Dunn said.
“What’s going on?” Jordan asked.
“It’s all right, Jordan,” Chris said. “Just do as he says.”
The two entered the room.
“Walk past us,” Carnevale said.
Chris and Jordan complied.
Dunn and Carnevale advanced past them, cleared the hallway, re-entered the room and holstered their weapons. “Sorry,” the Director said. “We needed to be sure you weren’t being forced to open the door at gunpoint.”
“I understand,” Jordan said.
The family emerged from behind a large wooden shipping crate in the corner of the room. Emma and Aiden heard their mothers voice and ran to her. “Mom!”
Jordan dropped to her knees, capturing the children in her arms. “Hi babies,” she said. “Are you guys all right?”
“Yeah,” Aiden replied. He pointed to the remains of a shattered ceramic bowl on the floor. “Emma broke one of Grandpa’s antiques.”
“Me?” Emma exclaimed. “You’re the one who took it out of the box.”
“You’re the one who dropped it!”
“Which wouldn’t have happened if you’d left it on the shelf where it belonged!”
Aiden raised his hand, dismissed his sister. “Whatever,” he replied. “No big deal. There’s a whole pile of them in the box. No one’s going to miss one stupid bowl.”
Chris leaned over and whispered in Jordan’s ear. “That wasn’t just any old bowl, was it?”
Jordan shook her head. “It was an Asian Ding bowl from the Chinese Northern Song Dynasty.”
“Expensive?”
“It was valued at four-hundred thousand dollars.”
Chris gasped. “Four-hundred grand? For a bowl?”
“It wasn’t just any bowl. It was a piece of history.”
Chris shook his head, blown away by the value of the insignificant looking piece. “No problem,” he said. “I’ll replace it for you.”
Jordan chuckled. “You will, huh?”
“Piece of cake.”
“And exactly how do you plan to do that?”
Chris smiled. “Give me a lump of modeling clay and a little water. I’ll whip you off a new one in no time. Shouldn’t cost more than five bucks.”
Jordan laughed. “Remind me to never let you near this room again.”
Hearing voices in the vault, the Hostage Rescue Team rounded the corner and entered the room. Dunn and Carnevale identified themselves. Dunn instructed the team to lower their weapons and stand down.
“Are the premises secure?” Dunn asked.
“Yes, sir,” the Commander replied.
“Fatalities?”
“Four. Two of ours, two of theirs.”
Dunn nodded. “Have your men escort the family out of here. Take a route around the deceased. I don’t want the children seeing the bodies.”
“Copy that.”
<
br /> On the grounds of the estate the night was alive with the flashing lights of Emergency Medical Service units and FBI sedans. The ambulance attendants provided blankets to the family and assessed them carefully. Other than the emotional trauma of the ordeal all were reported to be in good health.
Hanover sat in the back of an ambulance. A paramedic gingerly removed his jacket, opened his shirt and inspected the bullet wound. After checking on her family, Jordan stepped into the back of the ambulance and sat beside him. She looked at the wound. “Ouch,” she said. “That looks nasty.”
“It’s not so bad.” He turned, showed Jordan his back. “Bullet came out the other side. Give me a week and I’ll be as good as new.”
“A week?”
“Okay, maybe a month. Give me a break. I’ve never been shot before. Can’t say I’m liking it very much either.”
“How’s the neck?”
“It only hurts when I talk.”
“Too bad. Audrey will be disappointed when she finds out you’ll be out of commission for a while.”
“Audrey?”
“Nurse Lane?” Jordan reminded him. “Angel of Mercy Hospital? My nurse? The one with the hots for you?”
Chris smiled. “Oh, that Audrey. It’s my shoulder that needs rest. The rest of me works just fine.”
Jordan laughed. “I’m sure it does.” She watched as law enforcement personnel came and went from the mansion. A coroner’s van pulled up to the front entrance. Two attendants exited the vehicle. Taking their instructions from the HRT Commander, the men opened the rear doors of the van and removed two steel gurneys. The bodies of Carter and Lehman, the agents tasked with protecting the grounds, were placed in the van. Moments later a second van pulled in behind the first. The black-bagged bodies of James Rigel and Harrison Tasker were removed from the home. Jordan stepped out of the ambulance and watched the vehicles drive down the winding driveway and leave the property.
Chris eased into his shirt and jacket and stood beside her. “Don’t focus on them, Jordan,” he said. “Focus on your family.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
“I know.”
“I need answers, Chris. I need to know why this happened.”
“You’ll get them.”
“This was a professional assassination attempt. Someone ordered this.”
“We’ll find them, Jordan. Count on it.”
“What if you don’t? What if this isn’t over?”
“Your family will be under FBI protection for as long as it takes, until we make an arrest.”
Jordan’s voice broke. “I’m scared, Chris. Not for me but for my kids.”
Hanover couldn’t think of an appropriate response. Instead, he put his good arm around her and provided her with what she needed the most in that moment: compassion.
Jordan leaned into him. For the first time since being told by Dr. Tremaine that Keith had passed away, she cried.
Andrew Dunn and Grant Carnevale walked to the ambulance.
“You okay, honey?” Carnevale asked.
Jordan wiped away her tears. “I’ll be fine, Uncle Grant.”
“Yes, you will,” her godfather replied. “And we’ll be here with you all the way. But right now, we need a favor.”
“Of course,” Jordan replied. “Anything.”
“Director Dunn’s daughters have been taken to a hospital north of Los Angeles, in Ridgecrest. HRT needs to return to base. Any chance we can borrow a Farrow Industries chopper?”
Jordan opened her phone and called the heliport. “Consider it on the way.”
CHAPTER 58
WITHIN HALF an hour of receiving Jordan’s call the Farrow Industries Eurocopter EC155 touched down on the front lawn of the estate. Andrew Dunn ran to the chopper and took his place in the passenger seat.
“One hell of a night, huh?” Sam Cooper said, referring to the inclement weather. The pilot waited for the Director to buckle up before handing him an in-flight communications headset.
“You have no idea,” Dunn replied over the rising whine of the twin Turbomeca engines. The helicopter lifted off, banked hard to the left, then sped up, following a north-by-northeast heading to Ridgecrest. “What’s our ETA?”
The pilot referred to the route information displayed on the digital flight control. “Forty-five minutes,” he replied. “Fair warning, though. Final approach could get a little rough. Ridgecrest’s got the Sierra Nevada’s to the west, Cosos on the north, Argus Range on the east, and El Pasos on the south. When you factor in updrafts, downdrafts and crosswinds from those surrounding mountain ranges, plus rain, thunder and lightning, well… let’s say this promises to be an interesting flight.”
“Fine by me,” Dunn replied. “Just as long as you get us there in one piece.”
Cooper smiled. “Haven’t lost a passenger yet.”
Dunn smiled. “Try not to break that streak tonight.”
“I heard about the crash,” Cooper said. “Still can’t believe it. How’s Jordan holding up?”
Rain lashed across the cockpit window. Thousands of feet below the city of Los Angeles stood its ground against the raging storm.
“She’s keeping it together,” Dunn replied. “Which is the most anyone could expect of her right now.”
“Any idea how it happened?”
“We’ll know soon enough.”
“You want my two cents?”
“Sure.”
Cooper was emphatic. “There’s no way in hell that jet just fell out of the air,” he said. “All Farrow Industries aircraft, including this one, are serviced by corporately employed aircraft mechanics. If she crashed it’s because someone outside the company tampered with her, end of story.”
“Anyone come to mind who might be motivated to do that?” Dunn asked.
“Nobody I can think of. Michael and Mary were good people, you know? Considerate and generous to a fault. The kind who wouldn’t hurt a soul.”
“Someone out there doesn’t share that sentiment.”
Cooper shrugged. “Maybe not. But I’ll tell you this. None of our guys were responsible for the crash. Not a chance.”
“Let’s hope you’re right,” Dunn replied.
Forty-six minutes after leaving the Farrow estate, the extra minute lost to rough weather, the corporate chopper set down on the helipad at China Lake Regional Hospital in Ridgecrest.
“Bird’s at your disposal for as long as you need it,” Cooper called out as Dunn opened the cockpit door. “I have to clear the helipad. Hospital rules. Call for pick up when you’re ready to leave.”
“Thanks, Coop,” Dunn said.
“You got it.”
Dunn ran across the tarmac, entered the facility, presented his credentials at Patient Registration and was directed to the second floor. His daughters room wasn’t hard to find. A member of the FBI’s HRT tactical team stood guard outside the door. He recognized the FBI Director and stepped forward to greet him.
The agent introduced himself. “Special Agent Thomas Ford, sir. HRT, Los Angeles. Your daughters are inside.”
“Thank you, Agent Ford,” Dunn replied.
Safe and sound. Thank God.
Dunn entered the room. Zoe was sitting up, her bandaged shoulder in a sling. Shannon sat in a guest chair beside her. Lily sat on the end of the bed, legs curled under her.
“Director Dad!” Zoe exclaimed as her stepfather entered the room. “It’s about damn time you got here.”
Shannon stood and gave her father a big hug. Dunn kissed his daughters.
“I leave you two alone for a week and this happens,” Dunn teased. “You guys okay?”
Zoe raised her wounded shoulder. “Other than receiving this little souvenir and being detained on suspicion of murder, I’d say we’re good.”
“About that,” Dunn said. “I was briefed on the situation. You’re both lawyers, so you tell me. Were you defending yourself?”
“This was non-criminal homicide to the letter,” Zoe sa
id. “I was facing an imminent threat to my life under existing and extenuating circumstances, the result of which would have resulted in the commission of a murder; mine, to be exact. Had I not taken the action I did we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“Good enough,” Dunn said. “Consider the matter closed.”
“Happy to,” Zoe said. Lily was holding her hand. “Dad, Shannon and I have someone special we’d like you to meet. This is Lily. She saved our lives. Lily, meet our father, Andrew Dunn.”
Lily stood. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
“Not half as much as I to meet you, Lily,” Dunn said.
Shannon said, “Without Lily’s help we would never have made it out of there alive.”
“I don’t know what to say, Lily, other than thank you,” Dunn said. He gave the girl a hug.
“By the way,” Zoe told her father, “Lily’s a genius.”
“Smart, huh?” Dunn replied.
“No, really,” Shannon added. “Lily’s a real genius. A one-hundred percent certified smarty-pants. Even has the creds to prove it.”
Lily blushed. “Had the creds, you mean.”
Shannon replied, “We go back to the fallout shelter and get them.”
“Fallout shelter?” Dunn said.
“Yeah,” Zoe added. “They’re on the wall. Beside the periscope.”
“Periscope…”
“It’s a long story, sir,” Lily said.
Dunn laughed. “It certainly sounds like one.”
Lily lowered her head and stared at the floor. Dunn sensed the girl’s sadness. “How did you come to find yourself in the company of my daughters, Lily? Where are your parents?”
Shannon put her arm around her. “They’re gone, Dad. We’ll fill you in on the details later. Now’s not the time.”
The severity of the matter was obvious. Dunn asked, “Who’s taking care of you, Lily?”
Lily shook her head. “Just me.”
“You don’t have a family member you can stay with?”
Lily didn’t answer. Dunn saw the girl was on the verge of tears. “Then it’s settled,” he said. “Until this whole matter is rectified, you’ll stay with us.” He winked at Lily. “That is unless you’ve already had as much of these two troublemakers as you can take.”
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