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“Get dressed and get into the other bedroom,” he said, his weapon trained on the door. He saw Rachel out of his peripheral vision and swore. She had the sawed-off shotgun in her hands and was crouched low in the bedroom doorway.
“I’m not leaving you here,” she insisted.
“Can’t you ever listen—”
“Rise and shine, sleepyheads,” Jones said, coming through the front door big as life. “We’ve got a plan and a small window of opportunity to take advantage of it.”
Shane let out a breath and rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the warning, Wildcat. You’re lucky you’re not standing there with a bunch of holes in you.”
“Nah, bullets don’t scare me. You should know by now I’m as good as Superman.” Jones flipped on some lights. “God Almighty, boy. Go put some clothes on. I’m too young to go blind.”
“Don’t hurry on my account,” Carrie called out, causing Rachel to snicker.
Shane blushed and hurried past Rachel to get his clothes, mumbling things best left unsaid under his breath.
“Sorry,” Rachel said, lips still quivering with laughter. “We weren’t expecting anyone this late. It’s the middle of the night. I think.”
“That’s the point,” Carrie said, coming in and making herself at home. “Though it wouldn’t have hurt for Jones to give you a bit of a heads-up.”
“What fun would that be?” Jones countered.
Rachel went into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Shane practically lived on caffeine, and she poured him a cup just as he came back into the room, fully clothed. She grabbed a bottle of water for herself and the others.
“So what’s this about a plan?” Shane asked.
“We’ve got the bank president locked up in a safe house, and I’ve got men watching Angelo,” Jones said. “The bank president didn’t really want to help us out, claiming something about normal banking hours and customer privacy, but he was real helpful once I showed him a few photos of what Angelo is capable of. He’s a real prissy little fellow. Won’t let anyone call him anything but Mr. Norman, and he insisted we let him dress in his normal suit and tie before taking him. All we need now is Rachel and we’ll swing by and pick up Mr. Norman. Then we’ll go together to get the list.”
“I hope you’ve got someone you can trust guarding Mr. Norman,” Shane said. “I’d hate to get there only to find he’s had his throat slashed.”
“I think Cutter and Jax would take offense to that,” Jones said.
“Cutter and Jax?” Shane asked, surprised. “You called them in to help with this?” A smile split his face before he could help it. If Wildcat had called in his old squadron then things were dire. It meant Jones didn’t trust anyone in the FBI.
“Yeah, you could say they owe me a few favors,” Jones said. “The whole team came running as soon as I called. Well, almost the whole team. It took everyone a couple of days to rearrange their schedules and get here, but they were more than glad to help out. Civilian life gets boring after a while. Cutter and Jax are keeping a close eye on Mr. Norman, and Merlin and Dixon are keeping an eye on Angelo’s activities. I couldn’t get ahold of Doc. He’s out of the country on assignment.”
“He’ll be pissed he missed the fun,” Shane said.
“There’s no rest for the wicked,” Jones said. “You guys pack up your stuff and let’s get out of here. It’s crunch time.”
“Already done,” Rachel said, holding up the black bag of weapons they had stashed. “I haven’t breathed fresh air in almost a week, and I’m itching to do something besides sitting here waiting.”
“Put on a sweatshirt,” Carrie said from her lounged position on the couch. “It’s gotten cold over the last few days, and we’re supposed to have rain coming soon.”
“Thanks,” Rachel said, noticing for the first time that Carrie and Jones were both wearing jackets over their shoulder holsters. Rachel grabbed a dark sweatshirt from the drawer and another for Shane before rejoining the conversation.
“What do you have in mind once Rachel gets the papers from the vault?” Shane asked. “She’s still not safe until they’re in the right hands.”
Jones laced his fingers across his abdomen and propped one boot up on the coffee table before he answered. “Dominic Valentine’s attorney has been in protective custody since Dom went missing with the first set of papers and Agent Culver washed up on shore eight months ago. I’ll have Cutter and Jax go pick him up just as soon as we relieve them of their babysitting duties over Mr. Norman. I also have a federal judge lined up to sign search warrants for Angelo’s home and businesses.”
“What about the other people on the list?” Shane asked. “They’re going to be out for blood once the documents are turned over.”
Jones sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Unfortunately, that’s something we have less control over. Until the list Dominic put together has been checked out and confirmed, there’s nothing we can do. Rachel will need to go into protective custody until everything is sorted out.”
“And how long will that take?” Rachel asked.
“Optimistically, it could be as short as a few weeks. Realistically, it’s more likely to be a year,” Jones answered.
“No way,” Rachel said. “I did just fine for the eight months I was on my own without the FBI’s help. There’s no way I’m going to be trapped in another place like this one for a whole year. I know how to disappear.”
