Chapter 12
Lucky, a few minutes ago…
“She saw me. We’re good to go.” Suds removes his hardhat and slaps me on the back. “Hang in there, pal. She’s as good as free.”
One Feddie leads us downstairs and another says in my comm unit, “They’ve stopped in the control room.”
“Copy that. Ready.” The FBI team leader turns over his shoulder and glares my way.
Yeah, yeah. He took a chance letting me come along but he has to know I won’t fuck up this mission. My wife’s life is at stake.
Seconds tick by, each like a millennium as we hide one door down from the control room,
“She’s entered the password. We’re shutting everything down.” Slate’s calm voice sounds in my comm unit followed by The FBI’s acknowledgement.
“Copy that.”
Fans, engines, air conditioning… everything stops leaving only a buzz from the emergency lights. Even the chatter in my headset halts.
A woman mutters from behind the control room door then rushes out into the hall followed by two goons. As planned, they walk right by us in the dark.
Suddenly, my headset explodes with directives. The B team will follow the terrorists. I hold back until I know they’re out of earshot. Then, disobeying all orders, I rush into the control room.
My wife is alive and so fucking beautiful, for a moment, I’m blinded with tears.
When I loosen her gag, she shouts. “C-4! On the shelving.”
Standing nearest, the FBI lead sounds the alarm which echoes in my comm unit. “Clear the building. Get the bomb squad stat. C-4 with a phone detonator in the control room.”
“Fook, me.” Closest to the device, I examine the brown clay sitting on a metal shelf, about eye level.
For the first time in a couple hours, Jason speaks, and I breathe a little easier. “I have disabled cell service in the area but you must move closer, Mr. James.”
I lean in, my helmet camera almost touching the bomb. “Good enough?”
“Yes. Pull the red wire.” The fucking avatar wants me to disarm a bomb?
What if it’s wrong? Me, my wife, my kid, and a roomful of agents will die.
“Do what he says Lochlan! Now, now, now!” Instinctively, I respond to Dr. Jones’ terror, and yank the cable.
Suspended in time, the whole room holds their breath, waiting as the front panel of the cell phone fades to black.
“Unfucking believable.” I wipe the sweat from my brow, pull my knife from my boot, and cut my wife’s hand ties.
Then, I pull her into my thumping heart while she sobs.
Jason is the first to speak. “Well done, Mr. James. Now, I understand why they call you Lucky.”
I wipe a sleeve across my face. “Is that supposed to be funny, mate?”
Dr. Jones chuckles in my headset. “I think it was an honest observation.”
Male laughs follow. Then, Callie reaches her hands behind my head, drags my mouth to hers, and kisses me until I forget everything and everyone else.
When we come up for air, I check the top of her head and run my hands up and down her body. I gaze into the unending sea of her blue eyes, willing the truth from her.
“Are you hurt, luv?”
