Covert Pursuit, page 13
She went limp, hoping she’d slip out of her attacker’s grasp. Didn’t work. Using her heel, she stomped down hard on her attacker’s instep. He grunted, but didn’t loosen his hold. She used her nails to peel at the man’s arm, but her strength was rapidly depleting as her oxygen-deprived brain started shutting down. She wished she’d fired off that shot because not only was Decker escaping, but she was probably going to be fish food.
As the world dimmed and darkness rushed in, her heart pleaded with God to watch over Jason.
“What do you mean she gave you the slip?” Jason roared at the agent who’d been assigned to make sure Angie stayed safe.
Seavers grimaced, his voice echoed with panic. “She needed to use the facilities. She never came back.”
Could she have been taken by one of Picard’s minions? Someone from the police department? “Did you see anyone? Hear anything?”
“No. She walked toward the restrooms and that was the last I saw her.”
Narrowing his gaze, Jason said, “You didn’t actually see her go into the facilities, did you?”
Seavers opened his mouth, halted and then shook his head. “No, sir. I guess I didn’t.”
“She could have walked right past them.” Jason wanted to hit something. But mostly he wanted to find Angie and shake some sense into her. Or kiss her, he couldn’t decide which.
How could he protect her if she wouldn’t let him? How could she do this? Leave, to who knew where, to do who knew what? Rash, impulsive, reckless…so many adjectives came to mind, but the very real fear that something bad had or would happen to her pushed the anger away. Everything inside clenched with dread. He had to find her.
“Have all agents check in. If they see Detective Carlucci, have them detain her,” Jason barked to the communications agent. The guy nodded and did as instructed.
An agitated Joe Carlucci rushed to Jason’s side. “We have to find her. Where could she have gone? Is there another place on the island that the Corrindas use? Would she have gone to the police station thinking the police chief would be there?”
Jason realized he probably looked just as frantic as Angie’s brother. He forced himself to take a deep breath. He held up a hand. “Whoa, dude. We’ll find her.”
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to put himself into Angie’s shoes. She’d been upset to have been left behind, but she’d seemed to understand. But knowing her, even for a short time, he knew she wasn’t one to sit idle while there were bad guys to catch.
He glanced down the road toward the public restrooms and the path beyond. Of course. He knew where she’d gone. Apprehension chomped through him. Why hadn’t she returned yet? Retrieving his duffel wouldn’t take very long.
“Come on. I think I know where she went.” Jason grabbed Joe’s arm and pulled.
“I’m gonna kill my little sis,” Joe muttered as he ran alongside Jason. Agent Seavers and another agent followed closely behind.
Flipping on his high-beam flashlight, Jason led the way through the dark past the restrooms to the path that led to the beach. Once there, he swung the beam of light to and fro. The dock was empty, as was the stretch of beach.
He directed the light on the hill but the beam didn’t reach far enough. “This way,” he shouted and ran toward the hill to get a better look.
“Wait!” Joe yelled, pointing to the ground. “Look.”
There were two pairs of boot prints indented in the sand.
But it was the deep grooves following the prints, like someone had been dragged along the beach all the way to the dock, that made Jason’s blood run cold.
Had Angie come down to the beach and was now someone’s, namely Picard’s, prisoner? Fear and panic threatened to consume Jason. His breathing roughened and his chest constricted.
Forcing his thoughts to come to order, he issued commands. “Joe, we need a boat.”
“On it,” Joe said and pulled out his cell. “No service. I’ll be back.” He took off at a sprint toward the road.
“Seavers, you and Agent Foster head up that hill. Somewhere up there is a duffel bag with a camera that has evidence against Picard.” His gut clenched. Unless Angie had taken it. Or someone else found it and then found her… He forced the terrorizing thought away.
“Yes, sir.” The agents hustled up the hill.
Jason followed the grooves in the sand to the dock. A rope lay haphazardly on the wooden planks as if it had hastily been thrown off. Dread splintered through Jason. A horrible certainty filled his belly. Angie had been taken away in a boat by the man responsible for so many deaths already. Jason sent up a prayer that Angie’s death wouldn’t be added to Picard’s long list.
Joe raced back and skidded to a halt on the dock. “Lambert is sending one of the boats over from the cove. They should be here any second.” He faced the endless expanse of ocean visible beneath the glow of the moon. “But how do we find Angie out there?”
An image of Angie flashed through his mind. So brave and stubborn and rash. All professional in her pantsuit, her curly mane of hair restrained in a band, her big, rich dark eyes so full of trust and affection when he’d kissed her. And she’d kissed him back, making him yearn for more of her.
More of what could never be.
His heart twisted with love. But loving her wasn’t smart. Loving her wasn’t realistic. They lived in separate worlds that had somehow collided. He’d done a poor job of staying emotionally detached and now she was paying the price. If he’d only forced her to leave the island, she’d be back home in Boston, safe and doing her job. He’d just have to content himself with loving her from afar.
A thought blistered through him. He hit his forehead with his palm. “The tracking device.”
“What?”
“I put a tracking device in her shoe. We can pinpoint her location.” He started running from the dock toward the path. “I need to get the GPS receiver from my condo.”
There still might be a chance he could save Angie. Please, Lord, don’t let me be too late.
Sensory consciousness happened rapidly for Angie. Keeping her eyes closed, she allowed her other senses to assess the situation. The smell of musty disuse and decaying brine filled her nostrils. The humid air held no breeze. Some kind of closed room. She was able to distinguish men’s voices above the roar of the surf. Her hands were tied behind her back in a now-familiar position. So not a good thing.
Her feet also were bound by a thin nylon rope. Thankfully, there wasn’t a gag in her mouth. Obviously, she was somewhere remote enough that Picard didn’t worry about her screaming to attract attention. A stab of fear made her stomach muscles clench.
She’d put herself in this precarious position by not doing as Jason asked. If only she’d stayed put. But then Picard would have escaped. It was up to her to stop him. For Jason, for her brother. And for justice.
She cracked her eyelids open to get a partial visual, enough to ascertain the safety of opening her eyes fully. Daylight filtered in through the dirty windows. She’d been out for a long time. Her stomach cramped with hunger, her head throbbed. Tight muscles screamed in agony.
She concentrated on her surroundings. She was in the dining area of a small house. The hardwood floor beneath her was scarred and badly in need of some care. As were the furnishings. Rotted wooden chairs, a table that looked ready to keel over and cobwebs hanging from the low ceiling. What was this place?
She experimented with her bonds. Tight, but at least she wasn’t secured to a beam. Cautiously, she turned her head to the right, searching for an escape as well as ascertaining where her captors were. Through the dust-covered window she could see Picard and his cohort—the one whose nose Jason had busted—were outside the house, standing on the porch and blocking the only exit she could see.
She looked around for anything sharp with which to cut her ties. From her vantage point on the floor, she couldn’t see the tabletop. She tried to get her feet under her to stand. And fell sideways for her effort.
She tried using her elbow to push herself upright but failed. Frustrated with herself and the situation, she flopped onto her back and stretched out her legs. She stayed prone for a moment, letting her muscles relax and her anxiety lessen, before she bent her knees and rolled up into a sitting position.
Back to where she started. Well, if she couldn’t cut her ties, then she could at least hear what Picard and his man were discussing. She scooted her way toward the door. If she stretched, she could just see over the edge of the window sill.
“It’s been an hour! Where’s the boat?”
There was no mistaking that voice. Decker. Or Picard or whatever his real name was, sounded agitated, and his fierce scowl confirmed it. As he should be. He should be very worried. He’d kidnapped a law-enforcement officer. For the second time. Only this go around, there was backup. Kind of.
If only there were some way to let Jason know her whereabouts.
“Ramirez said he’d be here. He may have had trouble avoiding the authorities,” Picard’s cohort replied.
“I’ve got to get off this island.”
“What do we do with the cop?”
Angie’s breath stalled.
“We’ll kill her when she’s no longer needed and dump her body in the ocean or leave it here. I don’t care. All I care about are these beauties.” He held a small pouch and jingled it. “And of course, getting off this miserable rock.”
A tremor of apprehension and dread rocked through Angie. Her fate was out of her control. Only God’s mercy and grace would see her through this. “Please, Lord, lead Jason to me.”
She prayed for the impossible.
As the telltale signs of dawn streaked the horizon, Jason concentrated on the GPS tracking receiver in his hand, watching the little dot. He didn’t want to think about the possibilities that crept in to torment his mind. He could only pray that Picard was holed up somewhere with Angie waiting for an opportunity to escape the island. He had to believe she was alive and that there was still a chance to rescue her. Anything else…well, he just couldn’t think about that.
He stood on the deck of a fast-moving shallow-bottom ocean skiff provided by ATF. Beside him, Joe gripped the railing, his tortured and anxious expression echoing the emotions bouncing around inside Jason’s heart and mind. A southeasterly wind had whipped up. Water sprayed as the slick vessel sliced through the choppy waves. The dot on the receiver began to flash, indicating they were closing in on Angie’s position.
They rounded the southernmost tip of the island. Not much development on this end; only the lone lighthouse with its outbuilding stood ready to warn seafaring vessels of the island’s existence. The place looked abandoned and forlorn against the emerging daylight. A perfect place to hide.
Going with his gut instincts, Jason instructed the man at the helm to go farther down the coastline before stopping, for fear of alerting Picard to their presence. When the boat set anchor as close to shore as it could, Jason and Joe jumped out. The water came up to their knees.
“Call in our location,” Jason instructed the boat captain, who nodded and pulled out a radio transmitter.
Once they reached the shore, Joe asked, “Which way?”
Consulting the receiver in his hand, Jason pointed to the tall, metal tower with a strong beam of light emitting from the glass-enclosed, circular room at the top. The lighthouse was a good two hundred yards away and sat just inland from the beach surrounded by high, spikey blades of grass and the groundcover of inkberry plants. “He’s holding her in that building or the lighthouse.”
“Let’s do this.” Joe ran down the beach toward the lighthouse.
Jason followed. His heart beat wildly as he kept his senses on high alert. A man appeared around the corner of the building. Both Jason and Joe dropped flat, hoping the bushes would provide cover. Jason recognized the bandages strapped across the man’s nose. Picard was definitely here. Jason’s instincts had been correct.
Picard’s henchman appeared to be watching the water as if expecting company. Probably their getaway transport.
They waited until the sentry retraced his steps. Then, in a crouch, they ran to the building, weapons drawn. With Jason in the lead, they inched their way around the back. Jason looked in the first grime-covered window he reached. It looked into a small room that probably had once been the lighthouse keeper’s quarters but now housed electrical equipment and other paraphernalia for the updated automated lighthouse. No kerosene lantern, no need for a keeper.
The next window gave them a clear view into the main portion of the building. Angie sat on the floor with her feet and hands bound. She seemed to be talking to someone.
Relief made Jason sag for a moment as he sent up a quick prayer of thanks to God. Now, they had to figure out how to get her out alive. He surprised himself by not really caring about what happened to Picard in the process.
“I’ll take out the sentry, you get my sister,” Joe instructed.
Not one to argue with a good plan, Jason nodded his agreement. Joe crept along the side of the house and disappeared around the front. Jason went back to the storage room window, pried the screen off with a utility knife, slid the window open and soundlessly climbed inside.
A conversation floated to him from the room next door.
“You’ll never be free. The authorities will hunt you down for all the days of your life,” Angie said, her tone amazingly calm.
“I’ve done just fine avoiding the law for nearly thirty years. I have no intention of being taken in now.”
Picard’s answering voice sent rage pounding inside Jason’s head. Not only was this man responsible for his friend’s death but he obviously intended to harm Angie. Over Jason’s dead body.
“Jason will find me.”
Her confidence in him bolstered his determination.
With his weapon at the ready, he tested each step so as not to make a noise as he made his way to the door and cracked it open.
A short hall led to the central room where Angie waited. He crept forward, then peered around the corner and quickly ducked back out of sight as Picard paced, his heavy boots leaving a trail in the dust covering the floor.
Hoping that Joe had managed to disarm and subdue the outside guard, Jason took a steadying breath before charging into the room, his weapon aimed at Picard’s head. “Federal agent. Stop where you are. Hands in the air.”
Picard whirled around, his eyes widening. “You! I knew you were some kind of cop.”
“Hands in the air,” Jason repeated.
“I told you,” Angie addressed Picard smugly.
Picard raised his hands.
Keeping his gun aimed at Picard, Jason bent beside Angie. “You okay?”
“Yeah. How did you find me?”
“The tracker in your shoe.” With one hand, he used the knife to hack away at the rope binding her wrists.
“Track…?” Her eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh, yeah.”
The ropes fell away. She rubbed her wrists for a moment before tackling the tie around her ankles.
Jason rose and faced Picard. “You’re done, Picard. And I can’t wait to see you behind bars.”
Picard snorted. “We’ll see.”
“Let’s go.” Jason pushed Picard toward the door. The hinges squeaked as the door opened. They stepped out onto the porch.
“Joe!” Angie exclaimed. She started to rush down the stairs but Jason snagged her arm.
Her brother lay unconscious on the ground at the bottom of the stairs. Standing over him was Ramirez. Several other armed goons aimed their weapons at them.
Picard ripped the gun out of Jason’s hand. “Well, well, well. Seems the tide has turned.”
Jason’s stomach dropped as the gravity of the situation hit him full force. Once again they were outmanned and outgunned. He tugged Angie behind him, offering her the only protection he could. They’d have to kill him first before he’d let them hurt her.
He could only pray reinforcements arrived soon.
ELEVEN
Terror for her brother lanced Angie’s already frayed nerves. He was lying so still facedown in the sand. Was he even alive? Tears threatened the backs of her eyes but she refused to give in. Emotions right now would only hinder any chance they had of surviving this ordeal.
She tried to step out from behind Jason, but his strong arm held her firmly in place behind his right shoulder. She appreciated his need to protect her. And when this was over she’d thank him. After she’d broken Ramirez’s knee.
“Should we duck for cover?” she said beneath her breath so that only he would hear.
“Not yet,” he answered her. To Picard, he said, “So take your men and go.”
Picard’s feral smile sent shivers of dread running over Angie’s flesh. The maniacal gleam in his gray eyes didn’t bode well.
“And leave witnesses behind who can identify me?” He shook his head. “I think not.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture and spoke to Ramirez. “Dispose of them.”
“With pleasure,” Ramirez answered. “Get them all back in the house. We’ll torch the place with them inside.”
Ramirez’s henchmen rushed to do their master’s bidding. Two men grabbed Joe and dragged him toward the stairs, while another vaulted onto the porch and gestured toward the door with the business end of his AK-47. Angie clutched Jason’s arm as they slowly backed up, her mind rapidly evaluating their options. She didn’t think they could take out the five men without her, Joe or Jason getting hurt.
Shouts filled the air.
Suddenly three armed agents came charging from around the corner of the house. Jason took the opportunity to disarm the surprised gunman by kicking the assault weapon from his hands. Angie rushed to Joe, who’d been dropped halfway up the stairs. Seizing the fallen weapon, Jason leaped from the porch and ran across the dry sand to the beach after Picard, who was lumbering toward the awaiting boat. The other agents worked to subdue and contain the men Picard left behind.
