The clover romance colle.., p.54
The Clover Romance Collection, page 54
“Who are you?” he asks, standing and resting his hand over the weapon on his hip.
“My name is Click, I’m Jordan Garcia’s boyfriend, well fiancé, sort of. Was she here this morning?”
“Don’t answer that, Cynthia. If you don’t know this guy then we don’t know who he’s working for,” the man with the badge commands.
As the man starts toward me I hear the clattering of more people behind me. Security has arrived to escort us out. “Wait,” I say, raising my hands, trying to look like less of a threat and speaking to who I hope is the most level-headed person in this room. The only one who doesn’t get paid to kick people out or keep order.
“Cynthia, please, Jordan is in trouble. Wherever she went when she left here, something went wrong. She needs our help but I can’t find her without getting more information from you. Please,” I beg.
Cynthia looks at each man in the room and raises her hand for everyone to wait a moment. “Tell me something about Jordan that lets me know you are really her boyfriend.”
“She’s a pain in the ass,” I blurt out. “She is stubborn and at first glance you’d think she was not at all worth the trouble, but once you get to know her and you see her heart the way I did when I met her in Clover, you know she’s worth every bit of trouble.”
Cynthia’s nervous face settles into a small smile as she waves off security and invites Jonah and me to join her. “This is Deputy Director Bill Gully from the ATF. I was just briefing him on the information Jordan provided me this morning. Now tell me what’s going on with Jordan.”
“She called and used the hostage word we’d discussed. I believe whoever she met with after you may not have liked the information she had, could possibly even be involved, and is keeping her against her will.”
“That’s why they moved the meeting,” Bill says, leaning in toward Cynthia and keeping his voice low.
“It’s at an industrial area now, right?” I interject and step into the office even farther. “I think it’s a setup. They are likely trying to silence this and will be fully able to if they can get everyone who’s involved in one secluded place at the same time.”
“Wait, what are you suggesting?” Cynthia asks, her nostrils flaring. “You think they want to kill us?”
“Yes,” I say flatly, not wanting to soften the news.
Cynthia’s eyes fix back on Bill’s as she trembles slightly. “Don’t worry, Cynthia, I’ll take care of it. You won’t have to come within ten miles of that meeting,” Bill assures as he pulls out his phone and gets ready to dial.
“I think I know where she was going when she left here. Who might have been her next contact,” Cynthia squeaks out, still looking scared. “It was an ex of hers. Someone she dated. I don’t know his name but I know someone who might; hang on.” Cynthia picks up her phone and makes a call to someone and speaks frantically but quietly. When she hangs up, she looks up at us. “That was a mutual friend of ours. She remembers her dating someone in that office named Wes, but she doesn’t know his last name.”
“That’s great, Cynthia,” Bill assures, reaching over and patting her arm. “That’ll help tremendously.”
“What’s your plan?” I cut in before Bill can try again to queue up a number on his phone. I don’t let the new information that this person holding Jordan might be an ex-boyfriend of hers bother me. It changes nothing. Danger is danger.
“I’m going to get the closest tactical team briefed and set up at the location. I’ll get as much information on Wes as possible and try to have someone get eyes on him now. If that doesn’t resolve the situation and the meeting has to take place I’ll have an agent pose as Cynthia. I’m guessing this guy is the contact they’re trying to get their hands on?” Bill asks, gesturing at Jonah who’s been silent until this point.
“Yes sir,” he says, nodding his head.
“I’ll stand in as him. I want to be there,” I demand and ready myself to have to fight for that.
“And who exactly are you?”
“I’m a Marine, former Special Forces. I’ve been involved in numerous hostage situations including extractions from hostile zones. I’m combat trained and I can be an asset. I’ve given six years of my life to this country and all I’m asking is for a chance to use what I’ve learned to save someone I love.”
“You have absolutely no authority or jurisdiction in the matter. Not to mention you’ve got skin in the game. She’s your girlfriend. I don’t need that kind of emotion clouding things up,” Bill fires back.
“I can assure you emotion will play no part in my ability to assist. You need me.”
Bill lets out a dismissive laugh, “And why is that?”
“Hostage situations turn out significantly better if the person being held can remain calm. If Jordan sees me she’ll be calmer than if she sees strangers. Plus you have under two hours to get a tactical team in place and briefed. Getting an agent up to speed on the situation and the nuances of the background here will take time you don’t have. No one is closer to this scenario than I am.”
The arrogance fades from Bill’s face and he clears his throat, giving my words some thought. “You can ride with me and discuss your previous experience and how ready you really are for this. I’m going to have your records pulled and see if everything checks out. If I hear what I need to I’ll let you stand in. But there will be a Tac Ops leader there, and you will take all your orders from him. This is not a one-man mission.”
“I know how to take orders, sir. I’ve been doing it for the last six years. You have my word.”
“Wait,” Cynthia calls out as we stand and head for the door.
“Oh, Cynthia, I almost forgot. I’ll have agents here within the next few minutes and they’ll stay with you until this is over. You’ll be safe. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you,” Bill assures, and in an instant I realize why he’s so motivated to help. He’s jumped into action quicker than I expected and, while I’m grateful for it, I was skeptical. Now I see he, too, has some skin in the game.
“Thank you, but that’s not why I stopped you. Click, I’ve been working in the same circles as Jordan for almost a decade. We started out around the same time. I just wanted you to know that she told me today she’s never been happier. I’ve never heard her talk about anyone or any part of her life like that. She loves you very much and she called herself your fiancée. I just wanted you to know.”
“Thank you,” I say in just above a whisper as I avert my eyes and move Jonah, who seems slightly in shock, so we can head for the door.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Click
Bill is still on the phone ordering everyone around and getting things set up. He’s curt but effective and I’m glad he’s at the helm of this. Jonah and I are in the back seat of his car as he speeds through the intersections, sending us sliding back and forth.
“We need to swap clothes,” I instruct Jonah as I start pulling my T-shirt over my head. Bill tosses a bulletproof vest over the seat at me and I start strapping it on.
“Why are we changing clothes?” Jonah asks skeptically.
“Because I need to look more,” I wave my hand at him, “boring I guess.”
“This is a nice shirt. Bianca got this for me for Christmas.” He looks down at the blue and gray striped collared shirt and then his khakis. “Fine,” he says, seeming to reluctantly agree that his clothes are different enough from mine to make a difference in this.
As we swap the rest of our clothes, I pull the letter from my bag. I look down at it and hesitate before handing it over. “I wrote this when I was deployed. It’s had your name on it a long time. It’s part of the reason Bianca decided not to kill you. I showed it to her when we were driving over to my parents’ house to send them off to Florida.”
“What’s it say?” He looks nervous as he hesitantly takes it from my hand.
“It’s just something to hold onto if anything should happen to me. I thought once I was home I wouldn’t need it anymore, but who am I kidding? I wouldn’t be happy unless I was in some kind of danger.” I try to lighten the moment, but Jonah ignores my humor. He tucks the letter into his pocket.
“I’ll be giving that back to you today,” he assures me as he laces up the boots I just shoved over to him. “How do you wear these things? They are so damn heavy.”
“I was just going to ask how you wear these sneakers. They’re so damn ugly.”
He laughs but it’s cut short as Bill starts shouting loudly into his phone. Jonah leans over toward me. “You sure you can do this? With the flashbacks and stuff, do you think you are okay for this? You told me what happened after your car accident. What if something like that happens today?”
“I’m fine.” I throw him a sideways look that tells him to drop it, and he does. “I can handle this.”
“Son,” Bill says, and his round black eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror. “Tell me how you think this is going to play out. You know the players to some extent, and you know what’s at stake. How do you see this going?”
I can tell by the penetrating look he’s giving me this is a loaded question. My answer will likely decide my readiness for this operation. Sure, he’s already tossed me a bulletproof vest, but that doesn’t mean he’s given me the green light yet.
“Best case scenario is they don’t know we’ve been tipped off. They’ll be expecting an unarmed EPA agent and a civilian. Our best hope is they are arrogantly underprepared.”
“And the hostage, Jordan?” Bill asks in a leading tone.
I turn my head so I’m looking directly into Bill’s eyes and Jonah is outside of my peripheral vision. I don’t want to see even the flinch in his reaction. “She’s probably not going to be there. She’s likely dead already.”
“Click!” Jonah’s voice is sharp and high, but I still don’t turn toward him. “Don’t think that,” he insists.
“If these people are plotting to kill anyone involved in this in order to keep it quiet, they wouldn’t bother keeping her alive. By setting up the meeting and getting everyone else with knowledge in one secluded place, she’d have done all they required of her. She doesn’t serve any other purpose to them,” I say flatly, trying not to let an ounce of emotion show through.
“That’s true,” Bill agrees. “But there is a small chance if they are worried about the other two people due at the meeting spooking they’ll bring her along. If they are desperate to end this tonight they’ll want to make sure everyone who should be there shows up, and having Jordan alive and present could help with that. But I agree, the odds of that are low. I was just wondering if you’d considered that.”
“I’ve considered everything, sir. If Jordan isn’t on the scene, or even alive anymore, the best chance at bringing those involved to justice will be at that meeting today.”
“Are we clear on what the word justice means, Marine?” Bill asks with a cocked eyebrow and a stern glare.
“I’m no vigilante. Trust me. If I were going to take the law into my own hands I’ve had dozens of opportunities before this. I know my place today.” The words I’m saying are true but my conviction behind them feels hollow. While it’s true I’ve never crossed that line before, I feel less confident I won’t today. If I find they’ve hurt or killed Jordan, I won’t let a single one of them survive. And there won’t be anyone in the world capable of stopping me.
“This is where you two part ways then. ATF agent Maggie Dorado is about to step into the car and you, Jonah, are about to step out. Maggie will be posing as Cynthia at the meeting. Jonah, another officer will escort you somewhere safe and you’ll be kept apprised as things unfold.
“Thank you, sir,” Jonah says, reaching up to the front seat and shaking his hand. “Keep my brother safe please.” He nods his head toward me and then opens his door to step out.
Bill looks over at Jonah, and though it seems against his better judgment, he says, “You’ll be with Cynthia. I . . .” He looks away awkwardly. “I’ve always kind of had a thing for her and intend to ask her out on a proper date when this is over.”
“I’ll keep her safe,” Jonah assures but he is cut off abruptly by Bill’s husky laugh.
“That’s not what I was saying. She’ll have plenty of agents there to do that for both of you. I’m just letting you know to keep your hands off. She’s mine.”
Before Jonah can explain he’s a married man, Bill is speeding away and I have to lunge across the back seat to grab the door Jonah didn’t have time to shut. As we fly around a corner, the door I just slammed closed is quickly pulled back open. Hopping into the seat is a woman in her late twenties with raven-colored hair that is pulled back in the same fashion Cynthia’s was. She’s wearing a similar style suit. I watch as she slips out of her flat shoes and into a pair of high heels.
“This is my least favorite part of today so far,” she huffs. “How the hell am I supposed to do my job on these stilts?”
“You’ll be fine. You have your vest on?” Bill asks as he speeds around another corner.
“Of course.”
“Good, now you two get yourselves calibrated on the assignment. You’ll be out there on your own for the most part. I’ll have agents with eyes on you from various locations, ready to act if needed. But ultimately it will be on you two.”
“Yes sir,” Maggie and I both say in unison. As I start to brief her on who I am, and what else I know about the situation, I push out all the thoughts I have on Jordan and what must be going through her mind right now, if she’s alive. None of that will help me save her, so I lock it away.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jordan
I should be terrified, but all I can muster right now is anger. I’m pissed, mostly at myself for the poor judgment in coming to Wes and how that might impact everyone else involved. While I’m confident my message was received by Jonah and Click, I don’t know what they’ll be able to do to protect themselves and Cynthia at this meeting.
There are now four thugs in the SUV I’ve been thrown into, and I mean that quite literally. I’ve got the ache in my ribs where I collided with the console as proof of how little they care what happens to me. The man driving is of some Russian descent and he’s the angriest looking of all of them. I’m alone in the third-row seat, my hands restrained with duct tape. They pull the truck into a gas station and I hear them arguing about who was supposed to fill it up before they left. The driver gets out and I pull my body up slightly to see the gas station is lively and full of people. If I were going to make a move and have any chance at escape it would have to be now.
I’m the only bargaining chip they have. If I can get away there will be no need for the meeting. We can expose the information we have and take them all down. This is what is making me so pissed right now. I’m the only one who has put all of us in jeopardy.
The other men all step out of the car. Two go into the gas station and one walks off to light a cigarette. I can see the SUV doors are unlocked. They’ve given me no credit since the moment they captured me and maybe they are right not to, but I’m still going to try. I heave my body over the seat and back myself up to the door away from the man pumping the gas. I position my hands around the handle and pull it open. I tumble backward onto the hard cement but my adrenaline is pumping too hard for the pain to slow me down. I roll to my side and get awkwardly to my feet. I consider screaming, but as I look around I see a woman pushing a stroller and I’m too afraid these men will indiscriminately fire just to kill me. I couldn’t live with myself if anyone was killed in the crossfire. Instead I kick off my sky-high heels and take off running, charging as fast as my legs will take me away from the gas station.
My eyes are locked on the small strip mall across the street and I keep telling myself if I can get there I’ll be fine. There will be endless places to hide. I just have to get there. As I dart across the street, cars squealing their brakes to avoid me, I see him. Wes jumps out of his sleek black Mercedes and he’s at my side before I can outrun him. His hand is tight on my arms, still secured by tape, and with no other choice now, I start screaming. Though every eye is on me, no one is making a move to free me from Wes’s tight grip as he drags me back toward his car. Although I kick and swing my head wildly, trying to get away, he proves too strong for me. Pushing me through the driver’s side door, he shoves my body until I’m in the passenger seat.
“You always have to put up a fight don’t you, Jordan?” he accuses as he wipes the blood from a scratch I’ve left on his cheek just below his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you but you’re giving me no choice.”
“You don’t want to hurt me, but you’re going to kill me,” I spit back as I try to unlock the door and get out. I’m not sure why I didn’t expect it since Wes seems to be in a position where he will stop at nothing, but when he throws the first punch at me I’m still shocked. It lands off target, striking my shoulder but it’s so powerful I can’t breathe for a moment. I duck my head the best I can, but without the use of my hands and arms, I am unable to shield my face from his repeated blows. As he slams the car into drive I get a small reprieve from his pummeling, but it isn’t until I slouch over, my body limp as I give up, that he finally stops.
My ears are ringing, and I know the skin above my eye is cut. The partially healed cut on my forehead from the accident feels like it may have opened back up. I can taste my own blood from my split lip. I close my eyes and lean my head against the window, feeling my head slip a little as my blood makes the glass slick.
Wes has his phone to his ear, and though I’m dazed, I try as hard as I can to tune into his words. “You fucking idiots. You are so lucky I was behind you and saw her get out of the car. I gave you one job and between the four of you she still got away.” He pauses while they try to explain but quickly cuts back in. “Yeah, trust me she’s under control now. She won’t be getting away again. I pay you so I don’t have to do this kind of stuff. You know I don’t want to get my hands dirty in all this. Beating the shit out of girls is not my thing. Just get your asses to the meeting place. I want you to be there early. You need to get the jump on them. Now I’m wondering if you guys can even get this done. Can you kill these people or what? I’ll be close by watching.” He pauses again, listening to the person on the other end of the phone. “I don’t care if you said I should have already killed her and this wouldn’t have happened. It’s my call when we get rid of her. I’m not done with her yet.” He hangs up the phone and tosses it heavily into the cup holder. I feel his hand slap down on my thigh and part my legs but I’m too overcome with pain to stop him. “I’m not done with you yet. You and I have some unfinished business. I invested a couple months and some expensive dates on you and I want what I paid for,” he hisses as he slams my leg closed and puts his hand back on the steering wheel.
