Chapter 15

ADDY DIDN’T WANT TO BREAK MACK’S HEART and hoped to talk more, but with the exit doors right in front of her, she had to think about her safety and not leave it all up to Mack. The automatic doors split wide, the cold, damp air washing over her face helping her to remain alert.

Mack took her arm. She was glad for his touch. It gave her more confidence and a sense of well-being. Kiley stood by the van’s sliding side door. She nodded at Mack. He urged Addy forward. She was aware of his head turning. Turning and watching. She followed suit, the misty rain coating her body as she stepped quickly toward the vehicle.

Mack suddenly stiffened. “Sniper!”

Addy gasped, drew her sidearm, and searched the area. Time seemed to slow. Like in the hypnosis. Each sight. Each sound. Intensified. Her feet still moving but barely.

Kiley, weapon out, spun.

Mack shoved Addy forward, pushing her into the vehicle, then hurling his body on top of her. She heard the crack of the gun. A loud boom. Rifle. Mack jerked and sucked in a quick breath.

“Go!” he yelled as Kiley slid into the vehicle.

Sean floored the gas, and the van jerked forward. The side door hadn’t closed, and she knew Mack hadn’t made it all the way inside. She felt his leg move, and he shoved his body farther in, remaining on top of her like a large burlap bag of potatoes, heavy and solid. The vehicle raced around a corner, and he held fast, his body rigid and braced.

Sean suddenly slammed on the brakes. “Pedestrian! Move. Move. Move.”

The van soon roared forward, and they were off again.

Another shot rang out, the bullet hitting the door above her head with a sharp ting, piercing the van and exiting through the other side. Had to be a powerful caliber to rip holes in steel like that.

“He’s got to be using .50s,” Mack said. “Get this vehicle out of here!”

“Doing my best.” Sean sounded calm amidst the chaos.

“Reporting the shooter’s location to locals at the hospital door,” Kiley announced.

Addy had no idea how Kiley knew the shooter’s location, but Addy wouldn’t ask now and disturb Kiley’s focus.

“It’s gonna take time to get to him,” Mack said, his breath warm on her neck. “God willing, we’ll be out of range before then. Hopefully they’ll still be on time to bring this guy in.”

All conversation stopped, the van silent and bursting with heavy tension. Addy listened to the wheels spinning over the wet pavement. Mack’s heart thundered against her back. She heard and felt the rapid beating—was aware of every touchpoint of his body, but she didn’t ask him to move. She was afraid if he did, he would fall out of the vehicle.

Time slipped by. Miles with it. She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything.

Mack cleared his throat. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

He shifted. “I know I’m heavy, and I’ll get off as soon as we’re out of range.”

“We’re a few miles out and no tail,” Sean called out.

“Which means we can pull over to regroup,” Kiley said.

The vehicle slowed and stopped. Mack pushed off Addy, and she heard him grunt. Not the sound of exertion, but a grunt of pain.

“Are you hit?” She came to a sitting position to make room for him and searched his body.

“Maybe,” he said.

“Your pants are soaked in blood!” she cried.

“Yeah.” He scrambled into a sitting position. “Let’s get this door closed and get moving.”

Her heart racing, she eyed him. “We have to go to the ER. You need to have that looked at.”

He waved a hand. “It’s just a scratch.”

“How do you know? You haven’t even looked at it.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“Because you’ve been shot before, right? I mean, I don’t remember it, but you have.”

“Enough times to know this will be fine.” He slid the door closed. “Get us moving, Sean.”

Sean didn’t question but started the van forward again.

Addy glanced into the back of the vehicle. “There’s a first-aid kit back here. At least let me look at it and stop any bleeding.”

“Sure.” His reluctant expression belied his agreement.

She didn’t care what he thought. She was going to tend to his wound. Thankful they were in a medical transport vehicle that was equipped with a kit, she climbed over the seat and grabbed it. Once settled back in her seat, she put on her seat belt and looked at Mack. His face was flushed, and he was sweating. He was in more pain than he was letting on.

She would be as gentle as she could be. “Put your foot on my lap.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, drawing out his accent and ending with a cute smile.

Here he was bleeding and in pain, and he was trying to make her feel better with his Southern charm. She loved his kindness, but she wasn’t going to let it interfere with her concentration. She got out the scissors to cut his pant leg.

“Oh no, you don’t. Not my favorite jeans.” He tugged the pant leg up to his knee.

Just above his boot, blood oozed and ran down. She felt queasy and had to work hard to dredge up a smile of her own as she shifted his leg for a better look. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m doing my best not to hurt you.”

“No worries.” A broad smile crossed his face, but he was still perspiring.

“You thinking it was Razo?” Sean asked.

Addy didn’t want to talk about Razo, yet she knew it would help keep Mack’s mind off the injury.

Mack nodded. “One of the stories in Addy’s files was about Barrett sniper rifles. They’re .50 cal weapons, so yeah. I figure he or one of his minions took the shot.”

“Razo was selling them too,” Addy said as she remembered intel she’d received. “My source says he bought broken and discarded guns for a song and had a gunsmith fix them up for him.”

Kiley looked over the seat. “Sounds like you remember the investigation.”

Addy nodded and started to remove Mack’s boot.

“Be careful with that,” he warned. “Don’t want my boot damaged.”

“You and your precious boots.” Addy rolled her eyes but knew deep inside how much he loved his boots.

“You remember more than the investigation?” Kiley asked.

Addy shook her head. “It’s just another one of those feelings.”

“Not hard to remember that,” Sean said sarcastically. “The man would rather die than lose those boots.”

“Hey.” Mack grinned. “You should know to never get between a cowboy and his boots.”

Despite the blood. Despite the danger. The adrenaline. The near loss of her life. Addy had to chuckle. Probably Mack and Sean’s intent.

She studied Mack’s wound. A three-inch gash ran across the outside of his leg, the skin splayed open, revealing the muscle below. She gasped.

“Hey,” Mack said. “It’s just a flesh wound. Not even bleeding anymore.”

She stared at him. “I can see the muscle. A doctor needs to make sure there’s no muscle damage, and it’s going to need stitches.”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll get it looked at after you’re back at the safe house. But FYI, docs don’t stitch up minor gunshot wounds. Bullets leave a lot of debris in the wound, so too big of a risk for infection.”

She couldn’t imagine leaving the gaping wound open, but at least it would be bandaged. While she wanted him to head to an ER right now, she knew no matter what she said he wouldn’t budge.

Kiley looked over the seat. “You got lucky, man.”

Addy shot Kiley a look. “You call this lucky?”

“If the shooter really was pumping off .50s, a fraction of an inch closer and Mack wouldn’t have a leg at all.”

Addy knew .50 caliber bullets did serious damage, but she’d never witnessed the destruction, and she shuddered at the thought. Not only at Mack losing his leg, but one of them could have lost their lives. She swallowed away the horrific thought and got out gauze pads. She gently laid them over the wound. He winced and gritted his teeth.

“Sorry,” she said.

“No worries.” He smiled again, but now it was tight, and his eyes narrowed. “It’s got to be done, so go for it.”

She wrapped gauze around his leg to secure the pads and finished it all off with tape.

“Done,” she said. “I wish I could do more.”

“You could kiss his boo-boo and make the pain go away,” Sean joked.

Mack laughed, a deep belly chuckle, and that lightened her heart.

“Or just kiss him,” Kiley added, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

Mack’s laughter fell off, and he looked at Addy, his expression telling her he wouldn’t mind that at all. They sat there, locked in each other’s gaze as the miles passed under them.

At some point Kiley turned back in her seat, but when they pulled into the safe house driveway, she shook her head. “You two need to get over whatever’s keeping you apart, because it’s clear you need to be together.”

“It’s not at all clear to me.” Addy closed the first-aid kit with a snap.

Mack pulled his leg down. He jerked on his boot and took a gulp of air. He panted and looked up at the ceiling, pressing his hand on his knee as if he was trying to stop the pain from racing up his leg. She reopened the kit and grabbed some Tylenol.

He reached for her hand to help her out of the vehicle, but she held out the tablets. “Take these. It’ll help with the pain.”

He tossed them in his mouth. She watched his bronzed neck as he swallowed, and the need to touch him again was almost overwhelming. She’d become so acutely aware of his physical presence since the hypnosis. Could the memories she recounted to the doctor have opened the pathway to remembering Mack and all they’d once had together?

He offered his hand again, but she couldn’t touch him and keep her focus, so she scooted out on her own. He gave her a pointed look.

“I don’t want to risk hurting you.” She made a beeline for the front door before he asked if that was her real reason. She didn’t want to hurt him. Never. She was telling the truth, but . . .

Inside the house, she went straight to the basement and hoped Mack was able to navigate the steps. She soon saw his boots clomp down the open stairwell.

“Everything go okay?” Cam asked.

“No.” Addy sat by Cam and Bear and shared the incident with him, ending with Mack taking a bullet.

“Whoa.” Cam’s eyes widened.

Mack waved a hand, dismissing the shocked response.

“Hey,” Cam said, a grin forming. “It’s no biggie, right? Your boot’s still intact.”

Mack laughed with Cam as Sean and Kiley joined them.

Kiley started moving furniture around. She was stressed. What was she so worried about? Sure, the shooting had everyone off-kilter, but Kiley seemed to be focused on something in particular.

Addy thought back to the shooting. The memories playing like a video in her mind. The terror coming back, inching up her back. Addy had focused on Mack’s injury and hadn’t really thought about the fact that she could’ve been shot too. She was standing very close to the first bullet’s landing spot.

“I’m going to call our local contact to see if they arrested the shooter.” Mack stepped to the side of the room holding the piano and gingerly lowered himself onto the bench. Bear trotted across the room and looked up at Mack. The poor dog knew something was up, and he whined under his breath until Mack gave him a reassuring pat.

“One question, Kiley.” Addy looked at Kiley, who’d paused, chair in hand. “How did you know where the shooter was located?”

“Oh that.” She set the chair down, dropped onto it, and used the tips of her toes to push a glass bowl in a kaleidoscope of colors to the center of the coffee table. “We’re testing a military program—Tactical Communication and Protective Systems. TCAPS has microphones on our comms unit that record two acoustic waves from bullets fired at supersonic speeds. It does a lot of things I won’t go into, but basically it gives the direction of arrival of those waves, and that provides the location of the shooter’s hideout.”

Addy was confused. “But how do you get the info?”

“It’s sent via Bluetooth or USB to our smartphones, which use a data-fusion algorithm to calculate the shooter’s position. Takes only about half a second to receive the information. The military hopes to be deploying it any day now.”

“It’s some sweet program,” Cam said. “Wish I’d thought of it.”

Mack got up and limped over to them, his eyes darkening. “Locals are still looking for Zamora, but we can’t rely on them anymore. We need to come up with a plan to track him down.”

“I can help with that,” Addy said.

Mack flashed her a look. “How?”

“I told you, I remember the investigation and the accident.”

“Yeah, so?”

“The day of the crash, I was coming back from seeing Rob just like we thought. But I had one more stop to make.”

“Where?” Mack jumped up and limped across the room.

“In my research, I found a local guy, a Vadim Yahontov, who did time for, get this—” she paused and looked Mack square in the eyes—“tampering with internet cables on the ocean floor.”

Addy couldn’t believe Mack actually let her join the team in questioning Yahontov. She’d had to plead, but after she pointed out that this guy’s rap sheet was all about internet crimes and with no hint of violence, plus pointing out that she knew the investigation best, Mack agreed.

She’d also made sure he gave in to her demands to stop at the ER, where his wound was examined—no muscle damage, thank goodness—cleaned and bandaged, and he was sent on his way with a prescription for painkillers. Which he refused, saying he would never take them while responsible for her protection, and he would manage the pain. She planned to keep an eye on him. If she saw him suffering, she would talk to him about it.

They rolled up on the apartment complex in Milwaukie, a suburb of Portland. The two-story building was old but in good condition with fresh blue paint. Sean parked the SUV, and they all got out. They’d taken the precaution of dressing in body armor but wouldn’t carry assault rifles for a knock-and-talk.

Addy was starting up the sidewalk when Mack held out a hand, stopping her and allowing Sean to take the lead, Kiley behind him.

“We stack in this order so if there’s a problem, we’ll be ready,” Mack said.

She glanced up at him. “And you have me safely at the back of the group.”

“That too, but honestly I’m more concerned with maintaining our routines.”

“Where did I used to fall in the stacking order?”

“You had Kiley’s slot, and she took up the rear.”

Was there was any real significance to this order? She would ask, but they reached Yahontov’s door before she could get the question out.

Sean used the side of his hand to pound on the door. “Police! We need to talk to you, Yahontov.”

“Movement inside,” Sean said, his focus pinned to the door, his hand on his sidearm.

Addy clasped the butt of her gun, ready to draw if necessary.

“I need to see some ID.” Yahontov’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“I got it.” Kiley stepped forward and held her credentials up to the peephole. “FBI Special Agent Kiley Dawson.”

The dead bolt clicked, and the door opened.

“You Vadim Yahontov?” Sean asked.

“I am.” He lifted a bushy black eyebrow. “What’s this about?”

Sean eyed the guy. “We’d like to come in and talk about that.”

Yahontov shifted his focus to the group. “And it takes four people to talk?”

“We can have a conversation here or we can escort you to our office.” Sean’s tone left no room for the guy to argue.

Yahontov stepped back, his eyes narrowed. They marched past him, and Addy took in his sloppy jeans and baggy T-shirt with an anti-government slogan. He had a slight body, scraggly hair, and his face was unshaven, the dark whiskers making him look dangerous.

His apartment held very little other than a giant leather couch, big-screen TV, and a wall of computer equipment. Much like Addy would expect in the apartment of a computer geek who lived alone. Yahontov dropped onto the sofa next to a pricey laptop, the team remaining on their feet. Wouldn’t do to let their guard down, not when they knew so little about this guy.

Kiley stepped over to the computer wall and took a long look at the equipment. “Sweet setup. What do you do for a living?”

Yahontov hesitated for a moment. “IT consulting.”

“Specifically what kind of consulting?” she asked.

He waved a hand. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Addy watched Kiley intently, waiting for her to respond with a smart-aleck comment. She locked gazes with him. “Trust me, with a master’s in IT, I would.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his scrawny neck. “You know. A little bit of everything, but mostly PHP and SQL stuff.”

Kiley shared a skeptical look with Sean. They clearly recognized that the guy was being evasive, as he was making it pretty obvious.

“Do you know a man named Bruno Razo?” Mack asked.

Addy knew he was hoping the name would spark a response. And it did. The guy paled, which told them far more than words ever would.

Yahontov recovered and lifted his chin. “Nah. Should I?”

“We think you’re consulting for him,” Sean said.

Yahontov shook his head, then clasped his hands in his lap and chewed on his lip.

Kiley tapped his computer. “If we were to look at your hard drives, we wouldn’t find any information on Razo, would we? Nothing about cutting internet cables in the ocean?”

Yahontov gulped. “No.”

Mack, his expression tight and deadly, moved closer to Yahontov. “If you lie to us, and we find out, we’ll not only charge you with anything illegal you’re doing for Razo but add a charge for obstructing our investigation.”

“Fine,” he said, running his palms over his legs. “So I helped him find a few cables. If they were cut, it was all him.”

“And which cables might those be?” Addy held her breath for the answer, as it could lead them straight to Razo.

Yahontov blinked a few times. Ran his gaze over the group. Shook his head. “I can’t say. He’ll kill me if I do.”

“Might as well speak.” Mack moved even closer to Yahontov. “We’ll be taking you in and getting a warrant to search this place and review your computers. Means we’re bound to find the information anyway. Why not make it easier for yourself?”

“I . . .” He sighed. “I can’t talk. Just can’t. So I guess that’s what you’ll have to do.”

Sean took out his cuffs. “Stand up.”

Instead of standing, Yahontov shoved his hand into his pocket and rolled off the sofa.

Addy drew her gun, as did the others. But he shot forward, reaching out to the computers, a large red key, not a gun, in his hand. He shoved the key into the USB port on the main computer.

“He’s trying to erase data.” Kiley jerked him away, put a knee in his back, and yanked out the key.

“Let me take a look.” Sean rushed over to the computer and woke it up. “You caught it in time.”

Mack cuffed Yahontov and hauled him to his feet. “Thanks for letting us know which machine to look at first. I personally would’ve started with the laptop.”

Yahontov glared at Mack. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with here. He’s going to kill me just for talking to you. Putting me in jail guarantees that.”

“A risk we’re willing to take.” Mack dragged Yahontov toward the door. “And if you’re going to die anyway, you might consider telling us exactly what Razo is up to.”