Page 39 of Fear for Her Life

“That’s not gonna happen.” The bald man shook his head. “The boss doesn’t want anyone to know the location of his hideout, so you’ll be blindfolded. If you don’t give up your weapon, the deal’s off. You don’t figure Souza is stupid enough to allow anyone inside his hideout carrying, do you?”

Kane looked away and chuckled. “Doesn’t he trust you to watch his back?”

“He trusts us.” The bald man sneered at him. “This is a onetime deal to set the terms. From tonight, you’ll be doing business with the local boss. His name is Alan Turner. That’s not his real name but it doesn’t attract attention, does it? It sounds like every other cowboy in town, right?”

Giving him a stare to freeze Black Rock Falls, Kane lowered his voice. “Names mean nothing to me. They all die the same.”

“Tough guy, huh? We’ll see.” He smiled, showing a gold tooth. “If you’re lucky, you’ll get to see what happens to traitors. It’s always a good incentive for new dealers to see what happens when you screw up.”

Not intimidated by the men, Kane shrugged. “Money is the only incentive I need.”

Kane picked up a jacket from the bed and shrugged into it. He pushed his keys into his pocket, along with a stick of gum, a pack of cigarettes, and a Zippo he’d left on the bedside table. The small pack of Semtex, a plastic explosive, disguised as gum; the detonators inside the cigarettes; and the Zippo had often come in useful during missions and passed unnoticed. He pulled on thin leather gloves and looked at the men. “What are we waiting for?”

“Why are you wearing gloves?” The Neanderthal man raised both eyebrows, making his broad head wrinkle. “You should be accustomed to our weather if you live around these parts.”

Towering over the men, Kane opened the door. “I don’t like getting blood under my nails.” He waited for a reaction but both men just gave him blank looks, no witty comebacks, nothing. “Can we get out of here?”

They weren’t taking any chances with him. Pressed between two men in the back of an SUV he allowed the hood to be placed on his head and had no choice but to relinquish his weapon. It made no real difference to the outcome. In seconds, he had formed a plan to take out and disarm the four men surrounding him if necessary. He didn’t need to worry about being taken into oblivion. With the tracker chip under his skin, Wolfe could track him anywhere. He would be aware of what was happening as he had been listening to everything that was said.

His mind went to China. Working alongside Jenna had given him a deep compassion for women and children in danger. He understood the situations women became entangled in to save their families. China’s eyes had been so imploring. Had she been telling the truth or was it just a ploy to get his sympathy? He’d need to know before this finished tonight, although taking her with him and rescuing her sister would add more time and be a mission that hadn’t been sanctioned. Could he spend another day away from Jenna? He’d left her to deal with three serial killers alone and needed to return home. Maybe he could turn China over to the US Marshals? They’d be able to get her into witness protection.

They drove for approximately half an hour and then bumped over uneven ground for maybe ten minutes or so before the vehicle came to a halt and the door swung open. The men got out, pushing him in front of them. Kane straightened, spreading his feet. His hands hadn’t been tied and he dragged the hood from his head before they had a chance to stop him. He spun and glared at the men. “No one puts their hands on me. This is your first and only warning.”

“We’ll put our hands anywhere we choose.” Neanderthal man grabbed him by the front of his shirt. His stinking breath oozed out between a smile.

One upward palm strike to Neanderthal man’s fat bulbous nose sent bone straight into the brain. He fell backward, and his legs kicked for a few moments before he went still. Kane swung his gaze to the other men. The bald one held his gun in two hands, aiming it at him. He smiled and as the gun lowered, spun and kicked it from his hand and then followed with a stiff uppercut, knocking him flat on his back. Before the other two had a chance to react, Kane attacked, and in five seconds they lay in crumpled heaps on the ground. He bent over the bald guy and retrieved his M18 pistol from his pocket and slid it back into its holster. He grabbed the man by the throat and hauled him to his feet. He eyeballed him with his nose an inch away from his face. “Don’t point a gun at me unless you intend to fire it. Just know, before you get time to pull the trigger, I’ll have it stuffed halfway down your throat. Now take me to Souza, I’m over playing games with you.” He spun a suppressor on his weapon and pushed it into the man’s ribs. “Get them to open the door. Tell them you’ll be standing guard. I can take it from here.”

“They won’t do it.” The bald man’s eyes flashed with defiance, but he took out a communication device. “My orders were to take you to Souza.”

Moving behind him, Kane pressed the gun into the back of the man’s head. “Then I guess you’ll need to be real convincing.”

FORTY-SEVEN

BLACK ROCK FALLS

A single streetlight cast an eerie glow over the line of deserted redbrick industrial buildings as Carter scanned the shadows, pausing at each alleyway to shine his flashlight. The old dumpsters, rusty after decades of neglect, cast shadows stretching like fat fingers across the narrow alleyways. The only sound came from Rio’s boots as he searched the opposite side of the road. As Zorro wandered into an alleyway, a stray cat arched its back and spat, mouth open and ears flat against its head, with a tail fluffed out to twice its size. Carter snapped his fingers and Zorro looked up at him as if waiting for an explanation. His relationship with Jenna’s cat, Pumpkin, was solid, and he even allowed the black silken arrogance to share his basket and knead his cheeks. He smiled to himself. Man might own a dog and they would obey commands, but a cat, well, they owned their humans, and Pumpkin, all big copper eyes and black silk, ruled Jenna’s ranch. He’d seen her refuse to allow the dogs to share the basket and neither of them would dare to eat her food. He rubbed Zorro’s head. “It’s probably got kittens close by.” As if he understood the explanation, the dog sneezed and then continued ahead as directed.

They hadn’t seen anyone in this area since arriving. Suddenly Zorro froze mid-stride and a low growl rumbled from his chest. Carter hit his com. “Zorro has something. Stand by.”

Pulling his weapon, he eased to the corner of the chipped and moss-covered redbrick building to peer into the alleyway as the clunk and slide of a fire escape slid into place. He aimed his flashlight at the man fleeing up the ladder. The man turned to look at him, screwing up his eyes against the light. Carter recognized him as Callahan. “FBI, come down nice and quiet. You know we have the town surrounded with Department of Correction officers everywhere. No one needs to die today.”

Ignoring him, Callahan kept climbing the ladder with remarkable speed. He reached the first story and continued up the steps. Carter had no option but to follow him. He pressed his com. “I’ve spotted Callahan. He is heading for the roof. Follow on street level. He’ll need to come down sometime. Don’t mess around with this guy. If he draws down on you, take him out.”

“Copy, What about Zorro?”

Keeping his attention on the escaping prisoner, Carter turned into the alleyway. “Don’t worry about him. He will follow me along the sidewalk. Don’t try and touch him and he will ignore you. Try and get ahead of the prisoner. He could come down anywhere. I’m heading onto the roof now.”

After scaling the steps, Carter’s attention locked on Callahan as he sprinted away, his silhouette a blur against the night sky. Breathing heavily, he took chase, keeping the rusty water tanks and chimneys between them. He must assume Callahan was armed but had no idea if he would stand his ground and shoot it out. The man had spent many years in prison and had an impressive physique and moved with remarkable speed. Increasing his stride, Carter followed. Obstacles covered the roof of the industrial buildings, along with years of slippery detritus. The next moment, the figure in front of him stopped abruptly, took a few paces backward, and then sprinted toward the edge of the building. He leaped over the gap between buildings, landing with a roll and quickly regaining his footing. Holstering his weapon, Carter followed in his path, leaping the distance with ease and landing on his feet in a run.

Ahead, Callahan moved with great speed, darting across the top of the building as if wearing night-vision goggles. Heart pounding in his chest, Carter pushed harder to keep up as Callahan leapt across the next gap. The dark alleyway approached, and Carter had only a few seconds to increase his speed to negotiate the wider gap. In a rush of adrenaline he cleared it. Landing hard and stumbling forward, he rolled and leapt to his feet. Carter’s mind raced, calculating every move, every jump, every step. He chased him across two more buildings and ahead was the end of the block. He drew his weapon. He couldn’t let Callahan escape.

Ahead, Callahan reached the edge of the building and skidded to a halt, Carter peered over the edge. Below and all around was a sheer drop, the blacktop below a dark abyss. There was nowhere left to run. He aimed at Callahan and walked slowly toward him. If he had a gun, he’d have drawn it by now. “It’s over, Callahan. There’s no way out.”

“You figure you’ve won, Agent? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.” Callahan’s lips curled into a twisted smile and a knife glinted in his hand.

Raising his weapon, Carter fixed his gaze on Callahan. “Yeah, I do. Drop the knife and you’ll be tucked in bed in a nice warm cell before you know it.”

“In your dreams.” Callahan lunged at him, knife raised.

---