Page 95 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

He took a relieved breath then clicked the mic. “We’re secure.”

When his hand fell from her face, she felt the loss of its warmth and so much more. The miles of emotional separation between them were solidly back in place.

He flicked his gaze—now hard as blue ice—to where Pritchard lay prone. “Have all units stand by for more information.”

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit,” Pritchard spat, and when Russo opened his mouth, added, “And don’t you say a fuckin’ word.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” a voice came from the other side of the room—the goon who’d been shot and lived. “I didn’t sign up for this, and I sure as hell won’t go down for it.”

…

As much as Eric wanted to haul Tess into his arms and kiss her like there was no tomorrow, now wasn’t the time. He crossed the room, taking the driver license Matt handed him.

Michael J. Nichols.

“Start talking, Nichols. Where’s the bomb?”

“First, I want a deal.” Nichols grimaced, holding a hand over the wad of paper towels Matt had pressed to the bullet wound in his shoulder.

“That’s not the way this works.” Eric knelt and grabbed the guy’s shirt, leaning in until they were nose-to-nose. “If you don’t tell us what we want to know, people will die and you will go down for it, so start talking or there’ll be no deal.”

Picking up on the tension in the room, Sheba and Saxon growled.

“Okay, okay!” Nichols whimpered, wisely deducing Eric wasn’t about to be bullied into making a deal. Little did the guy know, field agents didn’t make deals. Prosecutors did. For now, he’d keep that to himself.

He eased his grip on the man’s shirt but didn’t release him. “Where’s the bomb?” he asked again.

“It depends.”

“On what?” Again, he got in the guy’s face.

Nichols grimaced. “What time is it?”

“Nine-forty-five,” Nick said.

Nichols shifted position, his face contorting in pain. “Then it’s probably being driven into the hotel as we speak.”

Releasing the guy’s shirt, Eric sat back on his heels. “What hotel?” And why a hotel? Sovereign citizens only targeted government buildings and government employees.

“Gant didn’t say.”

Eric’s mind spun to find logic in Gant’s choice of a hotel over any number of government targets. “Where’s the hotel?”

“Somewhere in the middle of Newark. That’s all I know. One of our people works there. Another is a truck driver.”

“Ruffalo?” Dayne suggested. “He has a commercial driver license.”

Eric shot to his feet as more pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. “It’s the Excelsior Hotel. Fenway works there as an assistant manager.”

“Who’s Fenway?” Kade asked, making him realize that not all his friends were privy to the intel Millie had culled from various databases.

Oh, shit.

His heart began racing faster as another piece of the puzzle slammed home. “Millie.”

“Millie?” Nick’s piercing gray eyes cut to his. “Care to share?”

“Millie is one of our forensic auditors. All of our auditors are at a conference.”