She gives us a sharp nod and then does as he asks.
Ronan sees the score and exits the car. We exchange a few quick signs, sync’d up with what needs to happen. I’d rather have more of our teammates here, but Edison is a solid guy, Ronan knows what the hell he’s doing, and this is happening now, regardless of my wishes.
Blake gets out of his truck, weapon drawn. Ro’s moving stealthily in his direction, hidden by the other cars in the small parking lot. In the meantime, I draw myself to my full height and broaden my shoulders, keeping his focus directly on me. Edison moves to flank him on the other side. Blake pulls his weapon up, but Ro fires off a perfect shot, center mass.
Fuck you, asshole.
The guy hits the ground as a black SUV pulls into the parking lot, screeching to a halt in front of the center. Everett, Rafi, and Abigail hop out, ready for action.
“Omar and the twins are three minutes out.”
“We’ve got the perp,” I say, tossing Abigail the keys, and Rafi follows her into the building.
“Guys,” Ronan says, gun still drawn. “He’s still mov—”
Ronan’s legs are swept out from under him, and he lands hard, his head making contact with the pavement.
“Ro!” I shout, racing toward him.
The parked cars give Blake the advantage as he lays down cover fire, easily pulling my much smaller, unconscious boyfriend into the truck with him. Our options are limited, not wanting to injure Ronan, but we return fire as best we can. Blake’s engine roars to life and he peels out of the parking lot. We race to our vehicles, prepared to run them down.
The chase, however, is over as soon as it’s begun. He wasn’t laying down cover fire; he was taking out our tires. His truck is already beyond the next turn in the road, and Ro’s comms are eerily silent, save for distant cursing and faint road noise.
DB’s voice comes in. “What the hell is happening? We need a sitrep.”
I swallow the bile rising in the back of my throat. “He took him."
"Who took who?"
“Blake took Ronan in his truck,” I say, rattling off the vehicle’s details: color, make, model, and license plate number. “Odd? Where are you?”
Odd’s comms fire up. “We’re thirty seconds out, what instructions do you have?”
"He's heading away from you, so pass the center and keep going. He's driving fast and Ronan is in the vehicle, likely unrestrained."
"I hear you. Omar's driving. We’ll get your man."
I bring my hands to my head, watching helplessly as Omar and the twins speed by. I look back at Everett, whose expression spares me nothing. We both know it’s unlikely that the heavier SUV, even with all of its helpful extras, can catch up to Blake’s truck.
DB comes back on the line. "Okay, pulling in Jake."
"Jake here."
“What are our options, do you have any cameras that you can follow?"
"I do, but we’re limited. Odd?"
“I’m here."
"We could probably use some help from Wimberley on this one. Satellites, if they’ve got ‘em.”
“I can’t make any promises. They may not be inclined to break the law for this.”
I’m sure my pragmatic friend is just trying to manage my expectations, but fuck that shit. "You tell those assholes that they will fucking break the law. I don't give a shit. Get whatever satellites you have on him." I demand, my voice shaking.
Edison sidles up next to me, his deep rumble somehow soothing. “We remember what Ronan did to help us with the East Texas situation. Hedy will be on board with providing satellite support, you can bet that. But she's not the one who has the power to clear it. That approval goes to the big guy, and there's no getting around it."
I’m not quite sure who the big guy is, and honestly, I don’t give a fuck. Grabbing Edison’s arm, I plead with him. "Anything. I will doanything. They can bring me in on an op, I can get every last person in Wimberley in the best shape of their lives, I don't give a shit. You can take everything in my bank account, I don't care."
