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She was desperately glad to have something challenging to do. The love of her life was stealing a van with a massive bomb in it, driving it off to who the fuck knew where. Her brother and niece were in the hands of sadistic psychopaths.
It was too much. It was driving her wild. Doing something about it was preferable to thinking about it. Preferably something risky and ill-advised.
They were hoping the security of Braithwaite would not be too high. After all, this site was chosen only for its proximity to the convention center. Those assholes wouldn’t want to leave evidence behind, so they would be packing light. As soon as they executed their plan, they would blast out of there, leaving as little trace as possible. There would be no time to dismantle a complicated security apparatus.
Darius was piloting one of his smaller drones, armed with a soft disc of sticky putty clutched in its tiny mechanical grip. The disc was no bigger than a quarter, but the tiny machine struggled to carry even that much weight to the height of the video camera. They watched the monitor, not breathing as he maneuvered it into place in front of the camera…yes!The disc draped over the security camera’s lens and stuck there, creating a blind spot. They could only hope no one had been watching while the drone did its work. That with things all coming together, their enemies would be too distracted to be watching the monitors.
They moved fast into the blind spot that the Drakes had carefully chosen, the one that had the most cover once they got through the fence. There were various cars and machines and containers to weave around, and dart behind. They hoped the spot was not surveilled by another camera they had not seen.
Hope, hope, hope. That was a crap-ton of hope to rely upon. Hope was a shitty substitute for intel, but they had no choice. Love demanded what it demanded.
Amos worked the bolt cutters on the chain-link, and peeled back a chunk of the fencing. Darius first, then Remy, then her, and Amos taking up the rear.
The Drakes darted ahead of her. She saw a flash of movement to her right, as Darius dragged a man around the corner of a container. A choked grunt as he bashed the guy’s head with a baton, dropped him to the ground, and kept moving. A flurry of movement, to her left. Remy had his arm clamped around a guy’s neck. A squeeze, a jerk, a thud as he hit the ground, and Remy moved smoothly on, like a shadow.
They crept closer, darting around corners, crouching behind barriers. A man turned a corner in front of her, eyes widening in shock. He opened his mouth to yell.
She stabbed her stun baton right into his throat, zapping him.
Down he went, gurgling and twitching. Someone behind her shouted.
Bam.The bullet hit the back of her vest, knocking out her wind.Bam, again, and she stumbled down onto one knee. She spun around, swung up the gun, pulled the trigger.
Bam.The guy running at her went down, clutching his neck, like a tree crashing down. Blood spurted, spattering her face. She struggled out from under his weight, and ran, soaked. Bullets zinged and popped. Men were shouting, cursing—
Boom.
The bomb. Oh, fuck. Jed. Oh, my darling. Please don’t be dead. Please.
Whatever had happened was done, for better or for worse. That knowledge broke something loose in her. She ran full tilt toward the main building, shooting wildly. A harrowing battle shriek tore out of her throat. Bullets whizzed past her ears. Another thumped hard against the Kevlar vest that covered her back, making her stumble forward.Bam, a streak of hot fire sliced across her thigh.
She just kept on running.
CHAPTER45
Kat
Boom.
Whoa. The bomb had gone off…somewhere. Not too near, but not too far, either. The sound had been muffled by all the layers of concrete, but the vibration shook the whole building. I thought of Jed and Mick. Hoped they were okay.
What the hell was happening over at Braithwaite? The webcam had been knocked askew, and all I could see in the video-call was the high metal beams of the room’s ceiling, and a piece of paper that had fallen partway across the camera’s view. I heard noise. Yelling, shouting, men’s and women’s voices. Thuds, crashes, gunshots. Shit was going down, this minute, and I was stuck in this damned hotel, useless to them.
And through it all, I heard Holly’s shrill, constant screaming.
Keep screaming like a teakettle, baby. That way I know you’re still alive.
I had to scream too. I would explode if I didn’t let off some steam. People walking past my van from their car shrank back at my banshee howl, and took off in a nervous, shuffling run to put distance between us. I revved the van and sped past them, tires squealing as I took the turns on my way up to the exit.
When I got there, the bar was down, and the security guy had a look on his face that I recognized instantly. I was busted. He gestured imperiously for me to stop. He’d heard from his boss, or the caterers, or the cops, or maybe all of them. The jig was up.
“Stop!” he yelled. “You’re not supposed to be in that van! That van is stolen, and you are not authorized to be in here! Get out of the vehicle right now!”
Fuck that. I mouthed “sorry” at him as I gunned the engine, and crashed through the bar, crumpling the hood, cracking the windshield. I bounced up and veered out onto the street, taking the turn on two wheels. Cars braked to avoid me, honking furiously.
I floored it, going as fast as I knew how to drive. At this point, the more cops they sent after me, the happier I would be.
We needed all the help we could get.
