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“Yeah, I’ll explain later,” he replied, hitting the icon. “Go ahead. What happened?”
“David Clark showed up about five minutes ago, then the cops arrived. I know you can see all this with your camera feed, but when I saw David go into the bathroom I thought I’d better warn you in case you missed him.”
“Thanks. What’s happening now?”
“The police want to take Dan to the station. It’s about the complaint you filed, breaking into your boat and harassing you. They’re leaving with him right now.”
“I’m glad you called,” Scott said gratefully. “You were right. It’s entirely possible I might not have seen David Clark.”
“I’m so relieved you got there safely.”
“I told you it was no big deal.”
“It looks like a big deal from where I’m standing, and it’s getting worse.”
“Don’t worry about me, just keep watching.”
“Okay. Good luck.”
“You like her,” Jack remarked with a grin as Scott ended the call. “You like her a lot.”
Scott rolled his eyes.
“Hey, I think it’s great,” Jack continued. “It’s about time you—”
“Jack, look,” Scott interrupted, spotting the two officers leaving the hotel with Dan between them.
“Shit. Are we screwed? Who’s David Clark? Do we know anything about him? Can we use him instead?”
“I haven’t had a chance to tell you,” Scott replied. “Elizabeth recognized him. He was one of the guys who searched my yacht, but he worked for the DEA under the same guy she did. He must have flipped to the dark side, so yeah, the plan is still doable.”
“Damn. How many of these crooked bastards are there?”
“Too many, are you ready?”
“You bet. Let’s roll.”
As the police car left the parking lot, Jack drove to the back of the hotel and stopped next to an outside stairwell. With the wind and rain whipping around them, they trotted up the emergency stairs to the second floor, pushed open the steel door, and moved swiftly down the passage to Dan’s room. With Jack keeping his eyes peeled, Scott tested the door.
Unlocked.
Luck was on their side.
Pulling out his phone, he checked the camera feed.
A stocky man was bent over a dresser rifling through the drawers.
After quickly showing the image to Jack, they donned balaclavas, drew their weapons, and crept inside. While Jack softly closed the door, Scott stole forward.
David’s body jerked.
With lightning speed Scott flew across the room, yanked David’s arm up behind him and slammed him against the wall.
“You’d better back off,” David snarled. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
“Wrong,” Scott growled, pressing his forearm against the back of David’s neck. “You’re David Clark, a DEA agent now working for Sonny Conchello.”
“Stop! You’re breaking my fucking spine,” David croaked. “What do you want? Who are you?”
