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“Angelo Valentine is a fool and his men know it,” she said. “It wasn’t hard to buy a few of them for extra insurance. Now I’ve got Rachel and the list, and as soon as I hand her over and the money is transferred my job is done. I’ve been Angelo’s inside source for more than two years. Do you think I’m completely stupid? I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve that Angelo will never see coming.” Carrie backed out of the room so she and Rachel stood at the base of the stairs.
“I’m not letting you leave here with Rachel, Carrie,” Shane said. He started to move forward slowly so he could keep them both in sight.
“Stop right there,” Carrie yelled, her voice breaking. The pressure was starting to get to her and her grip became so smothering that Rachel saw spots in front of her eyes. Carrie moved the gun so it was pointed at Rachel.
“You don’t have a choice in the matter,” Carrie said, calmer now. “Put your gun down before I shoot your girlfriend in the thigh. You can hope she doesn’t bleed to death before I hand her over to Angelo. It doesn’t matter one way or the other to me at this point.”
Shane had lived his life by playing the odds, and he knew if he lowered his weapon then she’d put a bullet into his heart. And he’d be no good to Rachel dead. He kept his gun pointed at Carrie’s head and hoped for a clear shot, but luck wasn’t on his side. “That’s not going to happen,” he said, hoping he’d made the right choice.
“You like to live dangerously,” Carrie said. “I guess she doesn’t mean as much to you as I’d thought.”
Shane didn’t look at Rachel, afraid of what he might see in her expression. He was playing a game with a madwoman, and any distraction or break in his focus would get them all killed. Shane prayed Rachel could forgive him when it was all over.
“You lose, Shane,” Carrie taunted. “I know every trick in the book, and you can’t bluff your way out of this one.” Carrie backed them up the stairs, and Rachel tried to slow her down as much as possible by becoming dead weight in her arms. “Enough!” Carrie said, pressing the gun hard enough to Rachel’s thigh to leave a bruise. “I’ll do it. I swear. If I hit an artery you’ll be dead in a matter of minutes.”
“Do as she says, Rachel,” Shane called out. Rachel immediately stopped her struggles and went with Carrie higher up the stairs.
“Say goodbye to your lover,” Carrie whispered in her ear.
“No!” Rachel screamed, fear gripping her like it never had before at the thought that Shane’s life could be over in a matter of moments. She forgot about the threat of being shot and struggled frantically to try to dislodge Carrie’s grip on her. Carrie took her gun and slammed it across the side of Rachel’s face. Her cheek throbbed and the coppery tang of blood filled her mouth so rapidly she was choking on it. She was momentarily stunned by the blow and went limp in Carrie’s arms.
“It was nice knowing you,” Carrie said to Shane as she pulled something small and round out of her jacket pocket and threw it into the open door of the safety-deposit box room.
Rachel didn’t even have the strength to scream as Carrie pushed her the rest of the way up the stairs and all hell broke loose behind her.
* * *
Shane saw the tiny black object that Carrie threw into the room and only had a moment to react. He kicked the metal table in front of him to its side and ducked behind it, throwing his body over Wildcat’s to protect both of them as much as possible. There was nothing he could do to save Mr. Norman, but there was still life left in Wildcat, no matter how little it was.
The explosion rocketed through the entire room and pieces of metal and concrete flew from every direction. His ears rang from the force of the blast and his body shook from the vibrations. Shane shielded the back of his neck with his hands and hunkered over Wildcat, protecting his friend as best he could while the metal table they were hiding behind buckled and folded around them.
The heat was unimaginable, as the metal and concrete in the room made it feel as if they were trapped in an oven. Shane’s mind was racing and he knew he had to stay in control to find Rachel alive. But the first order of business was making surehestayed alive.
The smoke was thick in the room and it was almost impossible to see, but the debris finally stopped falling. Shane pushed at the heavy pieces of metal and concrete that covered his back and felt the sting of the raw scrapes over his body. The wound in his shoulder had reopened and his arm was slicked with blood, but time was of the essence and the adrenaline coursing through his body masked the pain.
He needed to get Jones out and get him help. It was obvious Jones’s lung had been pierced by the bubbling pink foam around the wound.
“Come on, buddy, don’t give up on me now,” Shane said. The muscle Jones had added over the past couple of years added extra weight to his body, and Shane struggled to lift him into his arms. He picked his way over the debris carefully, trying not to jar his friend too much. By the time Shane reached the top of the stairs, sweat dampened his brow and the scrapes on his back and the wound in his shoulder were screaming with pain.
The cold night air and rain felt like heaven against Shane’s tortured body when he finally made it out the back door of the bank. He laid Jones gently on the pavement and wondered how long it would be until emergency vehicles began to arrive. His friend was fading fast, the wheeze coming from his chest more prominent and the blue tinge around his lips growing darker in hue.
Shane was relieved to see that the SUV they’d arrived in was still in the parking lot, which meant that Carrie had someone waiting for her with another source of transportation. Probably one of Angelo’s men. He opened the door of the SUV and rummaged around inside until he found what he was looking for. A Snickers bar sat in the glove compartment. Shane carefully removed the thin plastic wrapping and opened it so it was completely flat. He tossed away the chocolate and grabbed the wrapper and the phone Jones had plugged into the cigarette lighter.
He ran back to his friend and stripped off the sweatshirt he was wearing, placing it under Wildcat’s head. Wildcat’s eyes were open and dilated and his breathing was shallow and raspy. Shane tore his friend’s shirt down the middle and exposed the tiny wound in his chest. He placed the candy wrapper over the hole and held it in place. The wheeze of air stopped leaking from Wildcat’s lung and his breathing eased.
“Dammit, I don’t have anything to hold this in place,” Shane said. His hands were slicked with blood and he looked around for anything that he could tie around Wildcat’s chest to keep the candy wrapper in place and pressure on the wound.
“In the back of the truck,” Wildcat gasped out.
“Don’t talk,” Shane ordered. He placed Wildcat’s hand against the wound and noticed the thready pulse in his wrist. “Leave your hand here, and press as hard as you can. I’ll be right back.”
Shane went to the back of the SUV and rummaged around until he found a black windbreaker that would fit around Wildcat’s chest. Or at least he hoped it would. Shane ran back to his friend and propped him up so Wildcat was resting against Shane’s knees.
“Here we go,” Shane said, tying the sleeves of the jacket tightly over the wound. It would buy them a little time, but not much if emergency help didn’t arrive soon. “Help is on the way,” he assured Jones. “Just hold on.”
Shane scrolled through the numbers on the phone he’d found in the SUV until he located the one he was looking for. He waited impatiently for someone to pick up on the other line, and when the voice answered he didn’t waste time on small talk.
“This is Jax.”
