Page 65 of Gabe

The term sounded so juvenile and shallow.

“I’m just surprised,” I said as I led our little group into the parking deck and up the long staircase to the top floor. “They’ve got such a big operation. I assumed they were smarter. Any idiot could tell you that trying to make me their mole in the FBI isn’t going to work after you tried to frame me for the Director’s death. Even if I’m cleared of the charge, I’ll probably be fired anyway.”

We’d reached the top floor of the parking deck, which was open to the dreary spring sky.

As soon as my feet touched the asphalt, I turned around to face the armed men following us.

“What happened? Did killing the FBI Director not work out like you thought it would? I heard there’s been some difficulty choosing a new Director. Was the person you had set up to take the Director’s spot not the shoo-in replacement you thought they’d be?”

None of the other men said anything, but I didn’t expect them to. These were just goons. They may not even know what I was talking about. However, their master, Senator McLeod, might be listening to the conversation. If I pissed the man off enough, he might order the goons to do something reckless.

Tansie tugged on my arm. “Don’t. Please. Just, take us to Sebastian Roth so we can get this over with.”

I sighed, but I couldn’t blame the woman for wanting to just go along with her orders. Her son’s life was on the line, after all.

As I’d hoped, the top floor of the parking deck was mostly empty. No one wanted to leave their car exposed to the elements if they didn’t have to.

I led our group to the far corner of the deck and looked around at the empty spots in confusion.

“I left him in the RV right here. He must have moved.”

Several of the armed goons seemed to have enough of my acting and drew their weapons. “Enough,” one of the goons said as he pulled out a revolver and pointed it at me. “Take us to Sebastian Roth now.”

I held out my hands even as I eyed the gun. A revolver was an interesting choice. It was light weight, easily concealed, and didn’t leave shell casings behind, but it also had a limited capacity and was harder to aim accurately due to the short distance between the front and rear sights. To choose such a weapon meant the goon had confidence in their ability to shoot accurately and not require many bullets to get a job done.

Not someone I wanted to get into a shootout with. I would have to wait until I was certain I could take this man out quickly.

“I can’t take you to someone if I don’t know where they are.”

Tansie reached out like she wanted to tug on my arm again, but didn’t want to get close enough to put herself in front of the gun.

“Can you call him?”

I did, and wasn’t surprised when the phone continued to ring without being picked up. Frankie and Newt weren’t the only ones wearing a GPS camera pin. I was as well, which means Sebastian would know I’d been taken hostage.

“No luck,” I said when the call went to voicemail.

The nearest goon cocked back the hammer on his revolver.

“You’d better figure something out.”

We were at an impasse. I couldn’t give them what they wanted, supposedly, and they hadn’t been given the order to kill me yet.

The nearest goon suddenly doubled over, clutching a gaping wound in the center of his chest. He’d been shot, and based on the angle the bullet must have come from, I knew who’d pulled the trigger.

Unfortunately, the goon wasn’t dead. It would likely be a fatal wound, but he still had enough strength to raise his gun.

I removed the weapon from his hand before he had a chance to shoot. Revolvers weren’t my favorite weapon, but I knew how to use them just fine, and didn’t hesitate to immediately put another bullet between the goon’s eyes. The first man hadn’t even hit the ground yet when I turned to the second goon.

The fight was quick. I had the advantage of surprise on my side, plus another ally covering me from a distance. It wasn’t long before all of the goons lay either dead or unconscious on the floor.

“What did you do?” Tansie shrieked, panicking as she stared wide-eyed at the bodies bleeding at her feet.

“I’m not sure yet.” I turned to face the direction the first bullet came from. “I’m assuming you have a plan, correct?”

Sebastian appeared from behind one of the few cars parked on the upper level of the deck. “Of course. I’m not an idiot.” He hobbled toward us with a single crutch tucked under his arm. His right leg barely moved, and couldn’t even hold his weight for long. Ideally, he needed a pair of crutches, but that would make wielding a gun nearly impossible. So, he’d found a way to make do with only one.

It took away any hope Sebastian had of looking like an actual threat, but I was just happy to see him up on his feet. These were the first steps he’d taken without clinging to the support bar during Frankie’s therapy. Sure, he was now clinging to a crutch, but it was a definite improvement.

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