Chapter 21
Lucky
At Callie’s apartment I don’t wait for the FBI’s permission to jump out with them. Whereas they run up to her apartment, I dash to the curb where Suds cups a cell phone to his ear.
His eyes squint down the road, his jaw clenches, and his mouth goes grim. “Goddammit. I sent her right into their trap.”
“Where is she, mate?” My heart pounds in my ears as I squat near the tire tracks in the snow.
Suds drops his hand away from his ear. “Not sure. By the time I got done shooting, she was gone. Dammit, I told her to run. Afraid she’d get hit by a stray bullet.”
“Let me see her security footage.” I hold out my hand for his phone and peer at the small screen.
Five gunmen with automatic weapons storm into Callie’s apartment. Suds fires, overturns Callie’s thick couch, and jumps behind it. Taking one of the intruders down, he shouts for Callie to run. As quickly as they came, the men stop firing and leave.
I point to the lobby of her building and slap him on the back. “C’mon. We need to talk to the Feddies.”
He follows on my heels as I race up the stairs and panting, we pause just outside her apartment.
Suds focuses on the four agents. “How’d they get here so fast?”
“They fookin’ picked me up down the street.” Their motivation suddenly becomes crystal clear.
I am so pissed I clench my fists, step over a dead body and stomp to where the heavyset black dude is talking into his headset.
When I shove him into the wall, I get his attention. “You knew, didn’t you? That’s why you detained me, you bloody bastard.”
He doesn’t even have the decency to appear apologetic. “Our intel said Yuri was going to make a buy. We needed you out of the way so the sale could go down.”
As multiple sirens sound in the distance, I ask the bloomin’ idiot, “Don’t tell me. That fuckwit Chase was your intel?”
He stays silent but I read the answer in his frustrated face.
Bloody hell, I need to find Callie. “Suds? With me. We’re out of here.” I poke a finger at the FBI bloke. “You fookin’ get in my way again and I swear to God...”
Suds grabs my arm. “C’mon, pal. Let’s go.”
“Not without me weapons.”
The black dude dares grab my pal’s arm. “You’re not going anywhere before you answer some questions.”
My mate, sneers, makes a call, and hands his phone to the FBI agent. “Y’all might want to listen to what Grayson Patten has to say. He’s our boss. And by the way? He’s conferenced in your director.”
When he gets off the phone, anger flashes in his eyes as he reaches into his jacket and hands me back my pistol.
“My knives, too, mate.”
“Traitor.”
I pay no attention because I need to get my girl. Halfway down the stairs, my friend stops on a landing.
“This kidnapping was well orchestrated. Four gunmen ambushed me while another four waited outside.”
I clunk the back of my head against the wall and rasp a hand over the growth on my chin. “Bloody hell, something’s not adding up. She’s maintained her work is all about making EMF safer, not a weapon. Why would the Russian think otherwise?”
“Gerard.” It comes out from both of us in unison as we run to the SUV.
It’s so bloody cold, it takes a few tries for the engine to turn over.
