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“Possibly,” Ethan answered. “I’ve got a weak heat signal dead center of the lot, and four guards are surrounding the area. Her heat signal isn’t good, Ghost. She’s either hurt really bad or she’s locked inside one of the train cars and it’s messing with my equipment.”
“Help Logan and Jack,” Gabe ordered. “Be their eyes. I’m going offline.”
“But—”
Gabe flicked the button on his watch and welcomed the silence. He’d slowed to a walk as he crossed each platform, his backpack slung over his shoulder, and his breathing was even, though his heart was racing in his chest. He saw Kimball in the distance but didn’t hurry to catch up to him. The only way this would work was if he timed everything just right. He’d have to trust Jack and Logan to take care of Kimball’s men on the ground.
“So you’re the infamous Gabe Brennan,” Kimball said, looking him over slowly from head to toe. “You look different than the last time we met.”
“As I recall,” Gabe said. “You were going by the name of Kenrick the last time you did a job for Tussad.”
“You’ve a good memory. It’s been two years since I used that name. I believe your daughter was the last job I did for my good friend Tussad. I had to go underground for a while after her death. You were very angry, and you must have used every resource you had to track me down. But I was always a step ahead of you.”
Gabe didn’t allow any emotion to show at Kimball’s words. That’s exactly what the man wanted, and control was important right now. But he now knew with certainty that he was looking into the eyes of his daughter’s murderer. Something in Gabe’s expression must have given him away because Kimball’s smile faded, and he put his hand in the pocket of his windbreaker where his gun was.
“You know, you’re something of a bogeyman in agency circles,” Kimball said.
“I’m just a man, Kimball. Like anyone else.”
“I doubt that,” he said. “Do you have my painting?”
“It’s close by. Do you have Grace?”
Gabe watched in satisfaction as Kimball’s jaw clenched in frustration. He was surprised Kimball had lasted as long as he had in the CIA, showing as much emotion as he was. An emotional agent was a dead agent.
“What do you mean, ‘It’s close by’?” he asked. “You were supposed to bring it here.”
“Where’s Grace?” Gabe asked again.
Kimball smiled and took a step closer, and Gabe watched the hand in Kimball’s pocket, not moving at his enemy’s obvious threat.
“She’s in one of the railcars, surrounded by enough explosives to level this entire place to dust. And you’ve wasted precious time by not bringing the painting with you. You’ll never find her in the next ten minutes because I’m not letting you go until I have that painting in my hands.”
A train whistle blew in the distance, and the sound of gunshots echoed around them, Jack and Logan giving him the distraction he needed.
“Take your hand out of your pocket, Kimball. If you kill me, you’ll never get the painting.”
Kimball shrugged and did as he asked. “It doesn’t matter. My men are busy taking out your team, and you’ve only got eight minutes left to get me the painting and find your wife before she’s nothing more than dust. It’s over and you know it. There’s no way out of this.”
“You underestimate my team.”
The train grew closer, and Gabe shifted his body weight ever so slightly. “Here’s what we’re going to do, Kimball,” Gabe called out loud enough so he could be heard over the approaching train.
The wooden platform rumbled beneath his feet, and rocks bounced along the tracks. The train wasn’t moving fast, but it was moving fast enough.
“You and I are both going to walk away from here today with exactly what we want. There are other days for me to kill you. It’ll be the last reprieve you ever get from me.”
Kimball’s eyes widened in understanding as the train came by, and Gabe tossed the backpack he was carrying into an open railcar. Fury and panic raced across Kimball’s face as he began running so he could grab hold of the train before it left him.
“She’s dead, Brennan. This game is over,” Kimball yelled back as he disappeared down the tracks.
Gabe pulled his weapon from the small of his back and flipped on his com link as he began running.
“Where is she, Ethan?” Gabe yelled into the link. Long-forgotten prayers circled through his mind as he took out one of Kimball’s men with a single shot to the head. Ethan had seen her heat signature. She wasn’t dead yet. She couldn’t be.
“Veer right,” Ethan said. “You’ve got a man gaining behind you, and you’re about to intercept another coming around one of the railcars.”
Gabe slid feetfirst to his left and twisted so he had the man behind him in his sights. It only took one shot to bring him down. The man coming from around the corner had to spend precious seconds searching for him, even though he’d heard how close the shots had been fired. Gabe hit his target before the man could even glance down in his direction. He rolled from beneath the railcar and kept running.
