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“I need to speak to the police, please.” She winced as the paramedic dabbed some antibiotic ointment over her wound, then taped on some gauze pads. “Are they outside?”
“Yep. Waiting to speak to you, actually.” The guy added a few more strips of tape to hold her bandages securely in place, then straightened. “You can have one of our T-shirts, if you want, since your clothes are pretty well shot.” He cringed. “Sorry. Bad pun.”
“The worst.” She grinned and took the shirt he handed her. “Thanks for this.”
“No problem.”
She discarded what was left of her blood-stained top and tugged the black T-shirt over her head, then tied it in a knot around her waist, since it was at least three sizes too large. Wincing, she hopped out of the back of the ambulance and scanned the crowd of law enforcement for whoever might be in charge. A large, burly guy with salt-and-pepper hair and a Columbo-style trench coat stood directly in front of her. Perfect.
Hayley addressed him, shoulders squared. “Agent Stevens, FBI. I need to talk to someone about getting over to James Creek.”
“I know who you are,” the man said. “I need to talk to you. Mind telling me why the feds were down here shooting the place up?”
Good question.She squinted at the badge pinned to the lapel of his coat. “Your guess is as good as mine, Detective Murphy. But there will be more shootings soon if we don’t get over to the marina right away.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” He yelled some orders to the crime scene techs, then focused his attention back on her. “Listen. I need to question you about what happened.”
“I’m happy to cooperate, Detective. But first I need to save my friends. Can you spare one of these squad cars?”
He snorted. “The only ride I’m giving you, lady, is straight to headquarters.”
So much for interagency teamwork.
Scotty needed her, and there was no way in hell she’d let some DC detective stop her from saving the life of the man she loved.
Considering what had happened today, her career at the FBI was probably long gone anyway. She drew herself up to her full height and poked her index finger into his chest for good measure. “Listen, buddy. My boss just went postal on a bunch of military heroes, and I’ll be damned if I stand around and let her kill them. Now, are you going to help me or not?”
Detective Murphy scowled. “Your boss did this?”
“Did I stutter?” On a roll now, she kept going. “Four decorated war heroes tried to stop her, but they were severely outnumbered and outgunned. Now, I’m determined to put an end to whatever the hell she has planned, but a few extra cops by my side wouldn’t be unwelcome. And don’t think for one second I can’t pull rank on you and make sure you spend the rest of your natural-born days sweating it out in the evidence room. So are you in or not?”
Jaw clenched, he stared at her for several seconds before exhaling and tossing her a set of keys. “You might catch more flies with honey, Agent Stevens, but I suppose I started the pissing contest. Fine. Take that one there. I’ll radio in for more officers for you. James Creek, you said?”
Hayley nodded and started toward the vehicle, only to be stopped by the sound of Detective Murphy’s voice behind her. “You will still need to come in for questioning as soon as possible.”
“I will.” She turned to face him and backed toward the nearest squad car. “And Detective, can you take Natalie Matthews into custody at the hospital? Once I get this situation under control, I’ll meet you there, and I’ll bring the warrant. Thanks. I owe you one.”
“Yes, you do.” Detective Murphy shook his head.
Hayley stopped to grab an abandoned gun and extra clip of ammo lying on the ground, most likely from one of the wounded agents, then climbed behind the wheel of the car and took off, lights and sirens blazing.
I’m coming, Scotty. Just hang on. I’m coming.
16
“Line them up,” Michelle ordered.
Scotty squinted into the afternoon sunshine, the smell of algae and fish thick in his nose. The marina was quiet, as would be expected on a weekday afternoon, and small waves lapped the side of the wooden dock beneath his knees. They’d arrived maybe five minutes prior and trundled out of the van, which sat parked and running near the shore.
The agent who’d been guarding him the whole time moved in and placed his gun against Scotty’s temple once more. The cuffs around his wrists were cutting into his skin, and the minute Kyle gave the signal, he planned to beat the crap out of this pompous dickhead.
He glanced at Gage and Spence on either side of him. Both wore identical expressions of contained fury. Yeah. Taking a SEAL team hostage wasn’t the most brilliant idea ever. Especially now that both he and Gage had someone special to fight to get back to.
If he closed his eyes, Scotty could see Hayley lying on the ground, bloody and helpless. His heart ached with guilt over leaving her there, but at least she was alive, as was Natalie, and the first responders had surely seen to both of them by now. He just hoped Hayley wasn’t planning to do something reckless to try and rescue him. He and his team could get out of this themselves.
Hell, they’d done it more times than he could count already. But Hayley… If anything happened to her, he didn’t know what he’d do.
“Right, let’s do this.” Michelle’s voice held a hint of hesitation, and Kyle seemed to pick up on it, because he shifted forward on his knees—as much as his position and the restraining agent behind him would allow, anyway.
