Page 53 of Waiting for Him
Still no answer. He raised his voice. “Kat? You up here?”
A quick check of the rest of the rooms told Jake she wasn’t on this floor. He hurried back down the stairs and into the war-room again to scan the live camera feeds and figure out where she was. As he’d headed to the bathroom earlier, Colleen had been collecting her purse to leave for class.
Now, on one monitor, he could see her car was gone, and Tanner was on the north side of the property, walking the perimeter behind the buildings. His gaze shifted to the other feeds, looking for Kat. His blood ran cold at the view of the front gate. A black SUV idled at the entrance, Murray was on the ground, three men were holding weapons with one pointed at Colleen’s head, and Kat was opening the gate.
“Fuck!” Pressing the button for the frequency Tanner and Murray’s headsets were on, Jake barked into the microphone, “Tangos front gate, man down, man down!”
Seeing on the monitor that Tanner had heard him and was sprinting from the far end of the property toward the gate, Jake unholstered his Sig Sauer P226 and took off like the hounds of Hell were on his heels. He hit the front door, running as Tanner rounded the building at full speed.
Tearing across the compound, they heard Kat scream the German command for Beau to attack one of the men before Murray retrieved his weapon and fired a shot. The driver was dead by the time he hit the ground. But the gorilla on the other side of the SUV aimed his gun at Murray, and Jake brought his own sidearm up, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Drop your weapon!”
He was still too far away to make an accurate shot, and he couldn’t risk hitting either woman or Murray. Thankfully, his command had startled the bastard, making him miss his kill shot, but unfortunately, he dove through the passenger door and threw the car in reverse. Beau took off after the retreating vehicle, barking ferociously.
“Fucking-A! Get your truck, Tuff!”
As the operative reversed directions, Jake ran to the gate where Colleen was ripping open Murray’s shirt to expose his wound. The guard groaned and swiveled his head toward Jake, a combination of rage and pain evident in his expression. “They’ve got Kat. Two tangos left. Both with 9mms—didn’t see any other weapons.”
Hearing Tanner revving his Ford F-150’s engine, Jake glanced at Murray’s shoulder wound, which was now visible. “How bad? Can you get to the war-room? I need someone on the radio.”
“Yeah, it’s a through and through. I’ll live. Help me up.”
The phone in the guard shack rang, but everyone ignored it. With Jake’s and Colleen’s assistance, Murray stood, letting out a roar of agony. “Fuck, that fucking hurts. ´Scuse my language, Colleen.”
Holding his good arm, the still-pale secretary rallied and took charge of the situation, aiming the big man toward the Trident building. If the situation weren’t so serious, Jake would’ve smiled at how far the once timid secretary had come out of her shell these last few weeks. Her training on how to respond to different emergency scenarios was paying off. “Like I haven’t heard Ian curse fifty times a day. Let’s get you inside. Jake, I’ll call 9-1-1, but what else do you need?”
Tanner screeched to a halt beside them, and Jake opened the passenger door. He jumped in and said, “Murray knows the tracking system. Bring up Kat’s GPS location and give it to us on the compound’s frequency. Then get on the team’s frequency and let them know what’s going down.”
He slammed the door, confident the secretary and guard, a retired Army sergeant, would do what needed to be done. Tanner floored the accelerator and swerved around the dead body outside the gate.
As they approached the intersection of the highway, Tanner demanded, “Which way?”
The vehicle slowed, and Jake frantically searched in both directions. “Left! Holy shit, I owe that fucking dog a steak. Slow down so I can grab him.”
Beau was about fifty yards north of the intersection, running on the shoulder of the road, still trying to chase after the long-gone vehicle, but at least he pointed them in the right direction. As Tanner slowed the truck, Jake opened his door. “Beau! Hier!”
The lab-mix ran back to the truck and took a flying leap onto Jake’s lap. He pushed the dog into the back seat and slammed the door. Punching the accelerator again as soon as Beau cleared the doorway, Tanner was already speeding back up. Jake reached up to tap his headset before remembering he never had one on—he’d been listening in through the speakers in the war-room.
“Let me have your headset.” The operative ripped the device off and tossed it to Jake, who hooked it onto his own ear. “Murray, you there?”
Static came over the earpiece and then the guard’s pain-filled voice. “Yeah, I’m here. Bringing up the GPS. Give me a sec. Colleen’s on the phone with 9-1-1. What direction are you heading?”
“North. Beau was heading that way, but we haven’t caught up to them yet. Have you gotten a hold of Ian yet?”
“I will as soon as I get Kat’s location for you. Here it is. Looks like they’re still on the highway in front of you. I’m bringing up the GPS in your phone . . . they’re about a mile ahead of you. I’ll let you know if they change direction.”
Motioning with his hand, Jake confirmed they were heading in the right direction, and Tanner sped up even more as they both scanned the vehicles in front of them. “Good enough. I’ll try to get a plate for you as soon as we spot them. Black Escalade, right?”
“Affirm.”
Tanner glanced at Jake. “What do you want to do? Follow to see where they’re going until we get some backup and a roadblock?”
Lifting his hand to adjust his eye patch, Jake had to agree. They couldn’t risk Kat’s life by running them off the road. “Yeah. Get them in sight and hold back.”
Just as they spotted the Cadillac up ahead, Murray’s voice came over the headset. “Hey, Jake? I’ve got Ian on the other channel. Get this. They’re boarding a state police chopper en route back to the compound. And they have FBI SWAT responding here. They figured out it was a ruse to get most of them away from here.”
“A little late to the party, but better than nothing. The team is still too far out.” He pulled his cell phone from the side pocket of his cargo pants. “Get me a phone number for someone on SWAT instead of playing telephone tag with you.”
“Stand by.”
