Wind Storm (The Gathering Storm Book 3)

by Marlow Kelly

  Finn got a call. He glanced at the door closing behind Milo and then turned his back and started talking.

  Michael grabbed his computer and hit a few buttons, pulling up an image of the Sun Down Hotel. It was a large brick building. He clicked on an arrow so the picture rotated, giving him a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. There were a few powerlines but none of them looked to be too close. Then he changed to an aerial view. Now he could recognize the location, even from above.

  He stomped to the door.

  “Where are you going?” Finn, who’d just hung up, stopped him as Michael reached for the door handle.

  “The little boys room.” He rubbed his stomach. “I feel sick.” He hated lying, but Finn needed to play by the book, and as far as Michael was concerned, they needed to throw the book away. He would do what had to be done to get his family back.

  ****

  Kennedy stood in front of Finn, her hands on her hips. Finn didn’t need to look at her face to know she was pissed, but he met her gaze anyway.

  “You shouldn’t have let him go.” Her facial muscles were pinched and tense. She was mad.

  He raised an eyebrow, hoping he managed to look surprised. “To the washroom?”

  She curled her lip. “You don’t believe that, and neither do I. He’s going to do something stupid.”

  Finn met her in the middle of the room. “Maybe. But you’re the lead agent. Why didn’t you stop him?”

  She slapped her forehead with her palm. “I’m not used to being the boss, and he’s your friend. What if he gets in the way of the police and gets shot? Or worse, prevents us from doing our job?”

  “He won’t be a problem. First, he’s an ex-federal agent.”

  “And second?”

  “The HRT team is two hours out. They’ll never make it here in time to stop him being assassinated in the square, and we both know that’s the plan.”

  “Of course it is, but he can’t go off—” Her head tilted to one side. “Did he share his strategy?”

  He almost laughed. “No. Michael got fired for going undercover without permission. He doesn’t share what he’s thinking unless he needs you to know. But I think in this case, he might be protecting us.”

  “Might be?”

  Finn shrugged. “It’s hard to tell when he’s under so much emotional stress, but it’s obvious what he’s going to do.”

  “It is?” She was staring at him as if he’d gone insane.

  “Milo, his stepdad, left suddenly. Why would he leave? We’re trying to save his wife and daughter, and he has something better to do?”

  “You don’t think he’s involved somehow?” Her hand covered her mouth.

  “No, not at all. Milo was an Air Force helicopter pilot. His mom and sister are being held on the top floor. I would bet good money they’re going to land on the roof and go in.”

  She stepped back, her eyes wide. “Shit.” Then she put her hands on his chest and shoved hard. “You should’ve stopped them.”

  He allowed her to move him back an inch. “Apart from the legality of a helicopter flying low within the city limits, it’s not a bad plan. We could go in through the main entrance and create a distraction. That’ll be less men with guns they have to deal with. It’ll give them a better chance of success.”

  “But it’s not coordinated. How will we know they’re ready? And we don’t have a warrant.”

  “We don’t need a warrant. These are exigent circumstances.” A clause in the fourth amendment allowed them to enter a building without a warrant if someone was in danger. And as far as Finn was concerned, kidnapping three women and selling them meant they were in danger and this was an emergency.

  She slapped her head again. “Of course.”

  “But you’re right about the coordination. We’ll have to be in position. As soon as we see them, we’ll go in.”

  She tapped a finger against her lip as she thought about the problem. “I wish there was some way we could talk to them.”

  “You know if we sanction this, there’s a good chance we can kiss our careers goodbye.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re over anyway, and I suspect Deluca’s is, too. We know about the Syndicate. They’re not going to let us keep investigating.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand, waving away her observation. “We’ll talk about this later. Let’s save these women first.”

  Finn glanced at the couch. Michael had left his laptop open. Finn snatched up the device. “It isn’t locked. And yes. He’s going to land on the roof.”

  “What?” She stood beside him.

  “He probably has it set to lock after a few minutes of inactivity but forgot to shut it down.” Finn moved the cursor to prevent the computer from timing out. He stared at an aerial view of the Sun Down Hotel. Then he placed the device back on the couch.

  “Do you think Michael left his computer open because he wanted you to know what he was doing, or is he just upset and distracted?” she asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. We need to keep our focus on getting Sinclair and the others back.” He tried to swallow the sour taste in his mouth. He had no idea if a rescue was possible or if Michael’s unspoken plan would work.

  “What resources does Michael have?”

  Kennedy’s question forced him to consider Michael’s options. “If I wanted a helicopter and firepower, I’d call David Quinn and Tim Morgan.”

  “I thought Quinn didn’t carry weapons.”

  “His wife’s rich, so he’ll be able to get the helicopter, and Tim has the guns.”

  He fished his smartphone from his pocket and dialed David’s number. When he answered, Finn didn’t mess around with small talk. “I need you to give Michael a message.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Tell him to call me before he lands on the roof. We will go in the main entrance and create a distraction.”

  David hesitated.

  “You got that?” Finn pressed.

  “I got it. I’ll pass on the message.”

  Finn disconnected, not giving David a chance to explain. “There, it’s done.”

  A minute later, his phone rang. He recognized the number and glanced at Kennedy. “It’s Ramirez.” He pressed a button to put the call on speaker. “Detective, do you have any information for me?”

  “I checked out the Sun Down. The place is crawling with guards, and not regular uniformed security either. I talked to Vice. They suspect the place is a brothel. Word is their customers are driven there in fancy cars. Even the neighborhood gangs don’t mess with them. I didn’t enter. I wasn’t sure what the play was. Captain Tate has SWAT on standby.”

  Because of the small size of Granite City-Elkhead County Police department, members of the tactical unit worked as regular officers and volunteered for the specialized unit.

  Finn smiled. “Tate’s good people.”

  “Don’t tell him that. He thinks he’s a hard ass.”

  Kennedy grabbed her raid jacket. Their bulletproof vests were in the SUV.

  Finn had a feeling that before the day was over, they would need both.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Michael climbed out of the taxi at Granite City Helicopters, which was nothing more than a hanger and an airstrip west of town. Milo, David, and Tim were waiting for him on the tarmac.

  “Did you have any trouble renting a helicopter?” He shook David’s hand.

  “There she is.” David pointed to a small aircraft. “It was the biggest one they had, but you’ll still be full coming back.”

  “You might lose money on this rental.” Milo started his inspection.

  What he was checking, Michael couldn’t say and didn’t care. As long as it got them to the roof and back, it didn’t matter.

  “Don’t worry about it.” David ran a jerky hand through his hair, his concern palpable. “Do you know how Sinclair was taken?”

  Michael shook his head.

  He frowned. “Do you know if she’s at this hotel?�
��

  Michael, once again, shook his head. All he knew was that she’d been dragged into a hotel room. He couldn’t be sure it was the Sun Down. “Ethan Moore said—”

  “The freak with the knife.” Tim stared at him, his eyes wide. “We’re trusting that psycho?”

  “No, before he gave us this info, Sinclair zeroed in on the Sun Down. She said there was something hinky about it, and I trust her.”

  David and Tim shared a look.

  Michael didn’t know what that was about, and he didn’t care. He needed to act soon. “I’m going whether you think it’s a good idea or not.”

  “You know, if it wasn’t for the lack of room in the helo, we’d be coming with you,” David said.

  “I need to go.” He was done chatting.

  Tim thrust a large gray tote into his hand. “There’s a rifle and two handguns. They’re all loaded and ready.”

  He took the bag but didn’t open it. “Thanks.”

  “Call Finn.” David pressed his cell phone into his free hand.

  Michael grimaced. “I don’t think—”

  “He’s planning to go in the main entrance and draw the guards away from you.”

  He nodded but didn’t reply. His throat felt thick. His friends had come through. Even Finn, who obviously wasn’t as by-the-book as he seemed.

  “Call Tim’s cell if you need backup,” David added. “We’ll come running.”

  Michael nodded, a gesture that covered both goodbye and thank you, and then climbed into the helicopter.

  Milo pushed some controls, and the blades rotated, slicing through the air. He signaled for Michael to put on his headphones, and then they took off.

  He unzipped the bag and checked the weapons, a habit born out of years of practice, first in the US Army and then as a federal agent.

  He was prepared and ready. He just hoped their intelligence was correct.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Sinclair woke to find herself lying on a hard linoleum floor. An iridescent lamp over the sink caused a knifing pain to slice into her brain. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to block out the light.

  Her tongue smacked against the roof of her mouth. It tasted as though she’d eaten a cardboard box. Her stomach rolled, making her wonder if she’d washed the box down with acid.

  What the hell had happened? She remembered being in the coffee shop with Jake and then…then… Her eyes flew open. The bastard had spiked her coffee. She winced, fighting the pain as she forced herself to her feet. Her knees were still weak, but they held.

  She scanned her room. Like most hotel bathrooms, there were no windows, assuming this was a hotel. Only a brown and orange tile floor with a beige bathtub, sink, and toilet. The towel rack had been torn out of the wall. As had the fixtures for the tub and sink.

  Killing would be too kind for the likes of Jake. A wave of dizziness overtook her, and she grabbed the scuffed countertop for support.

  The sound of cheering and the roar of a crowd rang through the air. Whoever was in the next room was watching sports. Which was good because, in her experience, that meant the volume would remain at an ear-splitting level. If her captors didn’t know she was awake, she would have time to plan her escape.

  She needed to shake off the effects of the drug and get her act together because they, whoever they were, weren’t going to stay on the other side of the door forever. If she had to speculate, she would guess her location to be the Sun Down Hotel.

  She checked her clothing. All the buttons and zips were exactly as they should be, and she wasn’t sticky anywhere, so she didn’t believe she’d been molested. Why had Jake turned on her? When she shook her head, she instantly regretted it as another wave of dizziness and nausea overwhelmed her. She would deal with him after she got away.

  They, the sports watchers in the other room, had left the light on, which helped because it would’ve been much harder to familiarize herself with her surroundings in the dark.

  Her brother had always told her that, in a fight, she should use whatever was at hand—anything could become a weapon.

  The dingy countertop had been cleared. There wasn’t even a glass to crack over someone’s head. They’d also taken the mirror off the wall, which wasn’t surprising. A mirror was just a huge piece of glass, and she would’ve been able to do a lot of damage with that. They had left the top of the toilet tank but that was too heavy. It would be hard to wield, and judging by the voices in the next room, there were at least two men.

  When fighting in hand-to-hand combat, she often punched or used a baton. She rarely gouged because the idea of gouging someone’s eyes out made her gag. It was the same with stabbing. A piercing wound usually meant a lot of blood, and she didn’t want to go there. Avoiding either of those two options hadn’t been a problem in the past because she had never planned an attack. Before, she’d only reacted to assaults. Her mission had always been to get herself and her charges to safety. Which was pretty much what she was doing here, except she was the one who needed saving and she had time to prepare.

  She opened the cupboard under the sink. It was empty. The handle was nothing more than a cheap plastic knob, no help there. But the hinges that held the doors to the vanity were flat and about three inches wide. David had told her that a roll of quarters would improve the impact of her punch. She didn’t have a roll of quarters, but she could use the hardware to make her hits more effective. With the edge of her thumbnail she set to work unscrewing them, hoping she could get them loose before the men in the other room came for her.

  She should never have gone to the coffee shop, especially without telling someone where she was going. She could only imagine what Michael was going through right now. He might be mad at her, but he would also be concerned. He was already suffering the effects of guilt over Nadie and Ava, and now she had added to it. Not just because she’d been captured herself, but she wasn’t there to help him save his family.

  She managed to get one off. If she held it in her fist, with the flat edge pointing toward her assailant, it would work as an enhanced knuckleduster.

  Worse than all the recriminations was the idea that she might never see him again. When she’d decided to meet Jake, it had been in the hopes of saving Michael.

  By the time she’d worked the first one free, the fingernails on her right hand were chipped and broken, which meant she couldn’t get them in the grooves of the screw to work off the second piece. She twisted, trying to get her left hand into the corner.

  The TV went silent.

  She stood. One hinge would have to do, but would it be enough for her to overcome two men? She needed a distraction, something to keep them off-guard. She undid some shirt buttons, revealing her bra. It was a plain white practical piece of underwear, nothing sexy, but it was all she had to work with.

  The door handle rattled. She hid her right hand behind her back with her makeshift weapon pressed firmly in her fist.

  The first man through the door was cheap suit guy from the alley.

  Oh, shit.

  He wasn’t wearing a jacket and she could plainly see he had a handgun secured in his shoulder holster. It was a Glock, which meant there was no safety. “Sleeping Beauty is finally awake.”

  She gave them a sheepish grin. Using her free hand, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and did her best impression of a flirty teenage girl. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  The big guy with the bent nose followed in behind him. He wore a weapon, too. Luckily, in the small confines of the bathroom, they couldn’t surround her. They were forced to stand in line, which meant she could deal with them one at a time.

  Cheap Suit eyed her suspiciously and then glanced at her breasts. “I’m not into anything kinky, but Kemp here”—using his thumb, he pointed to the big man behind him—“likes it rough.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I think I might be able to accommodate him.”

  “We didn’t think you’d be willing,” Kemp said as he
unbuttoned his shirt.

  She suppressed her revulsion and fingered her open top, knowing the movement would draw their gaze to her breasts. “I know a joke. Do you want to hear it?”

  Cheap Suit smiled. “Sure.” The more sidetracked he was, the better. She’d deal with him first and then tackle Kemp.

  She chuckled, playing her part. Not that she had any experience at seduction or being coy. The drug had worn off somewhat, but she definitely wasn’t playing her A-game. “What did the wind say to the warrior?”

  Cheat Suit grinned, still staring at her chest. “I don’t know, what did the wind say to the warrior?”

  “You cannot withstand the storm. And do you know what the warrior said?” She ran a finger down the side of his face.

  Cheap Suit shook his head, smiling. “No.”

  “I am the storm.” She grabbed his ear so he couldn’t move and thrust the latch into his throat. He made a gurgling sound and stumbled forward so his head rested on her shoulder. She grabbed his weapon from his holster and fired two shots, aiming for Kemp, hitting him in the chest. He went down hard.

  She stepped back, allowing Cheap Suit to slump to the ground.

  She checked both men to see if they were breathing. If they weren’t dead, she’d have to tie them because she couldn’t afford to have them sneak up behind her. Neither of them had a pulse. She blocked the sight and smell of blood and buried her distaste for her own actions. She had to move. They probably had friends who would have heard the shots and would come to their aid. She grabbed Kemp’s weapon and checked the magazine. Full.

  With a pistol in each hand, she moved to the door of the bathroom. The main room held nothing but a bed and a TV. Once she was convinced there was no one else there, she made her way to the window, hoping she was on the ground floor. No such luck, she was on the top floor. A large street sign declared it to be the Sun Down Hotel. Having her hunch proven right didn’t give her any satisfaction at all.

  She tucked one of the weapons into her gun belt. Holding both wasn’t practical. She needed a hand free to open the doors. Plus, she couldn’t see in two directions at once.