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Chapter Thirteen
Mason
Darkness surrounded my vision. The man who had dragged me out of the hotel and into the back of a dark van shoved a hood over my head and bound my arms behind my back with zip ties.
He said nothing. Was he concerned if he spoke again that I would recognize his voice? He knew who I worked for, which meant he knew me.
The door slammed shut. I listened and waited for another door to slam. It didn’t happen. The engine didn’t hum to life either.
A click from across the parking lot. Was it a door shutting? Had the offender gone back into the building?
I’d been alone in the white unmarked van that had been parked near the side exit of the resort. I needed to remove the binds from my wrists, and then I’d deal with the bastards who had taken over Blue Sky Resort.
What were they after, money? The hotel probably didn’t have much cash on hand, booking a hotel room always required using a credit card, but it was possible cash was exchanged for ski and snowboard rental equipment.
I’d seen eight men in masks, all in dark clothes and black pants with matching black shoes. They didn’t want anyone to recognize them, but they knew me. Which meant I knew them. Whoever they were, they were amateurs.
I bent forward and used my body to create as much space as possible. I’d trained for this, and while I could have done the motion while in the hotel, I was outmanned and outgunned. I slammed down my arms, breaking the zip ties.
I yanked the hood off my head and tossed it to the floor before I opened the door of the truck and stepped out. That was too easy.
Sirens wailed in the distance, coming closer. A fire engine and police car pulled into the parking lot. An ambulance trailed in the distance.
The sheriff stopped in front of the building and stepped out. His lights left on but the siren silent. “I didn’t expect to see you twice in one day, Reid. Can you tell me what’s going on? The fire alarm went off, but no one is outside.”
Even he recognized the huge red flag. “Hostage situation, eight offenders with semi-automatics. They’re hauled up in the lobby with hostages.” I reached for my phone in my pocket to discover it wasn’t there. I left it on the table upstairs. Shit. I needed to contact the team.
“Did they tell you what they wanted? Any demands?” Sheriff Nelson asked.
“Nothing. He knew I was with Eagle Tactical. One of them coldcocked me with his gun, stole my weapon, and dragged my ass outside. He threw me in the back of the van. Lucky for me, he only had zip ties and not handcuffs.” Handcuffs were a hell of a lot harder to break free from.
“Locals. Did you recognize any of their voices?” Sheriff Nelson asked.
“No.” I wished I could have been of more help.
“Do you have any guys inside?”
“Two, but they’re not my brothers. The new girl we hired and a client. Neither have special forces training like my buddies.” I wanted it clear that they were not in a position to stop what happened on the inside.
Sheriff Nelson called for backup and then contacted Eagle Tactical for their expertise. This is what we trained for, and while we weren’t always the ones charging into danger, with our combined years of experience, we were always available for consultations in the field.
Emma stepped outside the side door, a box of cigarette’s in-hand.
“Stop right there! Hands up!” Sheriff Nelson blasted into the loudspeaker attached to his squad car.
She dropped her lighter and box of cigarettes to the ground. Eyes wide, she held up her hands and took a slow step back, reached for the door, and flung herself back inside the building. The door slammed shut behind her.
“Call Declan,” I said. “Tell him to run everything he can on Emma Foster.”
“Wait, you know her?” Sheriff Nelson asked. “Is she your client? The one who’s inside with your new girl?”
“No. Emma recently moved to Breckenridge. We ran her background when she was hired by the resort as part of their hiring practice. She came up clean.”
Why did she come back to Breckenridge? It was clear she was helping the men who had taken over the building. And the fact she’d been hanging out with the off-gridders and living with them, what the hell were they after?
Sheriff Nelson tossed me his cell phone. I called Declan at the office, relayed the information about Emma to him. As I hung up the phone, Jaxson and Aiden pulled into the parking lot.
“Looks like the rest of your team is here,” the sheriff said.
