But what about Pop? Admittedly, she wouldn’t see him again today if he didn’t want her to. She allowed Sanders to escort her back around the corner, and they walked toward their vehicles. She glanced over her shoulder. If Pop wanted to talk to her, he’d just have to find her again.
As for Cole...
“What if he doesn’t make it?” There. She said out loud what they both feared.
Sanders wrapped the blanket around her again and pulled her under an awning and out of the rain. “You can’t think like that.”
“Then where is he?”
“He’s tracking down your attacker. Hunting him.”
“Along with the entire Seattle PD? Someone would have found one of them by now.” Tears spilled over her cheeks. She was simply too exhausted, and the cold was eating away at her composure.
Sanders pursed his lips into a grim frown. Yeah. He was thinking the same thing as Jo. Cole hadn’t made it. She pressed her hands against her eyes.
Oh,Lord,please,please help him. Let him be alive out there somewhere. I can’ttake this anymore.
“Okay. We’re done standing out in the cold. The best thing we can do for Cole is get you back to safety.” He urged her out into the weather again and to his county vehicle—a Ford Interceptor.
“What about my Land Rover?”
“Let’s leave it for him. He’ll find his way back.”
I need to believe that.
But Detective Sanders sounded as if he was trying to convince himself.
36
Shivering, breathless, Cole crawled up onto the banks of the river. His limbs were almost worthless.
This might have been a huge mistake, except he was far too close to capturing Merrick to just let him go. He couldn’t run away or swim away. Cole was on him.
Can’tlose you now.
He scrambled to his knees and then got on his feet. Sluggishly, he tromped forward to the old abandoned industrial warehouse.
Before crawling from the water, Cole had seen Merrick slip inside.
Ihaveso gotyou now.
Once this guy was incarcerated ... no more bombs. No more attacks. No more ... anything. He’d learned vital information. The only person from Jo’s photograph who was still alive, other than Driscoll—Jo’s father—was Troy Martin, founder and president of Resonant. After selling that company to Gemini, he’d earned millions before moving to be installed as CEO for another aerospace contractor.
And this guy, Merrick, was connected to Martin.
Cole hoped the water would adequately drain from his gun before he had to use it. He gulped in air and moved his body to get the blood flowing and warm up his core. He cautiously approached the old aluminum structure and, standing against the wall, listened. But the rain pounded. The wind still blew.
He heard nothing to indicate that Merrick moved around inside the warehouse. Merrick had been limping when he came out of the water, so Cole assumed he was injured. Merrick also had at least fifteen years on Cole. Still, he wouldn’t underestimate this man’s abilities. They’d both been trained by the most elite training force in the world—the US Armed Forces. Cole would use every advantage he could get.
Would Merrick expect Cole to go through the front door or a side entrance? Didn’t matter. Cole wasn’t going in the front, so he’d better find another door, or a window, into the structure that appeared ready to collapse. The posted signs said it had been condemned.
He found a side door cracked open and he quietly slipped in. Once inside the dark building, he waited until his eyes adjusted to the limited light filtering through the windows. Cole’s limbs were still a little numb, and he was moving slower than he would have liked under the circumstances. So he waited in the dark, in the quiet, for Merrick to make his move.
Was he even still inside? Or had he run out the back door? The hair and skin on his arms rippled, and he ducked, saving his head from a blow. Cole dropped to his back and aimed his gun.
Merrick lunged at him with a knife.
Cole fired.
