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“Copy that and the name’s Patch. The entire crew hasyour six, bro. Every available personis offering to help.” There’s no one better at manning the desk than Hands and I wish like hell he was here.
“Thanks.” Despite the situation, knowing my Patten family is with me gives me hope. “Listen, can you send me the URL of Sam’s uploaded video. I want to watchwhat happened myself.”
After the link arrives in my messages, I click and press play. In the grainy image, an armed man in a ski mask keeps his head lowered as he slinks toward the daycare room. A few minutes later, he carriesmy wildcat son under his arm. A sense of pride fills my chest even as anger surges. Mikey is doing everything possible to slow the bastard down.
“Shit. Don’t look now, but we’re being followed.” Glancing in the rear-view mirror, Slate interrupts my thoughts.
As I twist in my seat, I memorize the plates of the black sedan closing in on us. When a familiar face pokes out a back window and frantically waves us toward the curb, I glance across the cup holder and curse.
“The FBI wants us to pull over, but don’t you do it, brother.”
“Good copy.” My Patten boss speeds up, and as the dark car falls back, a shot ricochets off our hatch window.
“What the fuck. Mind telling me why they’re firing at us?” To avoid getting killed, Slate swerves into the left lane and narrowly misses an Elder-Care van.
“Hell if I know.” One hand braced against the dash, I point out the next exit. “Take it.”
“Shit.” My buddywhips the wheel to the right and the SUV fishtails.
After bouncing off the guardrail, we spin out of control, and by the time we stop, we’re facing oncoming traffic. Slate turns our car around, but we’ve lost precious time and the Feds are almost upon us.
Patch, who’s been silent up to now, sounds in my earpiece. “I’m connecting you to Detective O’Brien. Stand by.”
“Sutcliff? What’s going on?” A friend, a member of NYPD’s Joint Task force, and married to Jason’s creator, I trust Colin’s intel almost more than anyone.
“Griner. Clean or dirty?” While I wait for his answer, we’re bashed from behind, and our vehicle lurches forward.
“Under internal investigation, why?” His honest response is all the permission I need.
My window down, I lean over, and blow out Griner’s front tire. His vehicle hits the curb and balances precariously on two wheels. After it tips over, Slate screeches to a halt, shifts into reverse, and races backwards to the upside-down car.
Grabbing his weapon, he runs forward. On my side, a door flies open. With an armed man threatening my friend, I release two rounds into the assailant’s body armor. The would-be shooter moans and crumples to the ground,
“Don’t fire.” The other occupant crawls out on hands and knees.
As Slate squats and zip ties his wrists together, Griner whines, “You got no idea how bad you screwed up.”
Frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck.Right now, my son needs me. I need to go before the police lockme up for hours. No time for niceties, I punch the Russian unconscious and drag him by his feet to the SUV. There, I pop the hatch and hogtie him with zip ties.
After I slam the door,Slate frowns. “Leave. The cops are on their way.”
“Not until I question FBI-guy. See you on the other side.” Gun to Griner’s head, I walk him between two buildings.
Because I don’t want Patten Securities involved in what some may consider an illegal move, I text Joey my address.
After he agrees to pick me up, I call Sam. “Any sign of Mikey?”
“Not yet. Where are you? We expected you an hour ago.” I blame the man beside me for worrying my wife which is yet another reason to take him down several pegs.
“Griner ran us off the road. He’s messing with the wrong man. This dickhead is either going to start talkin’ or start bleedin’.”
There’s a long silence while she digests the new data. “Copy that, tough guy. Do whatever you need to save our son, and I’ll reach out to my contacts to see what else shakes loose.”
A quick goodbye later, I send Joey my coordinates, and walk my prisoner south, away from the cops.
Soon, Vinny’s black Towne Car arrives, Sam’s cousin helps me toss the FBI agent in the trunk, and I jump in the passenger seat. “Did you secure someplace close by where we can question him?”
Joey raises his brows and smirks. “Is the pope Catholic?”
