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After taking a seat on the couch, she said quietly, “Get some sleep tonight. I’ll talk to you in the morning. I figure we’ll wait on WITSEC together.”
He nodded. “See you in the morning, then.”
After he’d gone, she leaned her head back. The silent house was calming. After the rush to finish and send her report, she needed this. Cal had left the back porch light on. She got up and took a look out the sliding doors. Nothing moved. She twitched the curtains back in the dining room, checking out front. Same there. For some reason, she was feeling a little jumpy herself.
Maybe it was just her frayed nerves from the long day at her laptop. She was glad that she’d left it behind. She didn’t need to be tempted to get on it again tonight. Her shoulders needed a good rest. She hadn’t brought her muscle relaxers on this trip, thinking that she’d only be gone for one night, two at the most.
She was too edgy to watch TV. What she needed to do was relax.
At 3:30 a.m., she headed for the bathroom. All was quiet, but she still felt a bit on edge. She wouldn’t fully relax until Hector was in the hands of the U. S. Marshals and the WITSEC program.
She went inside and locked the door. Couldn’t be too careful with a criminal in the house. A moment later, she’d just pulled up her jeans when she heard abang!She recognized the sound as a door flying backwards and hitting the wall.
She grabbed her phone and called Cal. “We’ve been breached! I’m in the bathroom. Call for help.” Disconnecting, she stuck the phone inside the back waistband of her jeans. Pulling her gun, she put her ear to the door and listened. The house wasn’t carpeted. It had tile and hardwood floors, and she could hear multiple footsteps, some of them coming down the hallway.
She threw open the door and took one step out, aiming at the intruders. Two strode toward her, guns raised, faces shocked at her sudden appearance. She popped off two quick shots, striking one in the chest and the other in the abdomen. They crashed to the floor. A man suddenly appeared at the end of the hallway, and she took another shot, striking him in the head. As he dropped, two more stepped into view and started firing, so she ducked back into the bathroom. Hector had to be terrified.
Seconds later, a shotgun blasted a hole the size of a bowling ball where the door handle had been, and the door flew open. Vic knew when she was outgunned. Raising her arms, she looked the tattooed man in the eyes.
“Put your gun down,” he told her in heavily accented English.
She did as she was told, glancing behind him for the other guy. He must have gone looking for Hector. She hadn’t heard gunfire, so maybe Escareno was still alive.
The tattooed man backed out the door and motioned her to follow. She headed toward the living room, stepping around the bodies, her hands in the air. Where the hell was backup? Hadn’t there been any police nearby?
She heard footsteps behind her and then a grunt of pain. She turned and saw Hector wincing, a gun at his head. The other guy was following him.
Her captor jabbed the shotgun into her back. “Hurry up. Go out the front.” Then he rammed her with it again. Afraid it might go off, she picked up the pace to the door.
In the glow from a streetlight, she saw a black Suburban at the curb, doors open. She headed for it. Thank God she hadn’t brought her computer. And she still heard no sirens. But time slowed for her during moments like this. It had probably only been a few minutes.
It was a good thing she usually wore her shirts baggy. Her phone would be well hidden tucked into her waistband. And she always kept it on silent when she was working. Another plus in her favor.
At the curb, her captor checked her legs and found her backup gun. It sucked, but he’d have been stupid not to. She held her breath, hoping that the search would end there.
Her captor shoved her into the Suburban, and she breathed a sigh of relief. With her phone on, she could be tracked. What her captors wanted from her, she didn’t yet know. Was it just torture for revenge, or something more? And why were they keeping Hector alive? But the huge question was, how in the hell had they found a DEA safe house?
A moment later, the Suburban sped off.Cal, find me, or this won’t have a good outcome. We both know that. Please find me.
