The FBI split the list of names Lucy gave them. She didn’t tell anyone where she got them, and hoped she didn’t have to. One of the names was of the man who was currently in surgery, the man Kane had shot in the kitchen. The other five all lived in San Antonio.
They didn’t have the time or manpower to coordinate a simultaneous raid on each of the five unless they spread their people too thin, so each team of four took two names, and Lucy took three that were clustered together.
She had Leo, one of Leo’s best men, Rod Rodriguez, and Jason Lopez, who had been the first to respond to the situation when she called it in. She appreciated his show of support. Jack was with them as well but he was a civilian and not at full strength.
The first house was empty. The other two men lived in the same apartment building a mile from the house. While Jason and Rod watched the front, Lucy and Leo went to the first apartment, under the name Bruce Anders. Bruce’s girlfriend answered, insisted he no longer lived there, told them to go to hell and if they didn’t have a warrant they could go fuck themselves.
Lucy looked around the filthy place. “You know, your boyfriend makes a cool thousand a week, but it doesn’t look like he’s sharing any of it with you.”
“Fuck off, bitch.”
She didn’t believe her. Lucy didn’t care, because she didn’t get the sense that the guy was around. The woman slammed the door in her face.
They headed back downstairs. Through the com she heard Rod say, “Thompson is running!”
“Don’t let him get away!” Lucy called and took the stairs double time, running out to the front and following Rodriguez.
Billy Thompson was a younger kid, in his early twenties, who lived in the same large apartment complex as Bruce Anders. He was fast and agile, but he still had to traverse a winding path through the buildings and leap over hedges.
Jason said in her ear, “I’ll cut him off through the back.”
Lucy could run well, but wearing Kevlar slowed her down. She kept up with Rod, though, and they burst out together into the back parking lot just in time to see Jason tackle the kid, slamming his body against a parked car.
“Let me go!” Thompson shouted. “Police brutality!”
“Shut the fuck up,” Jason mumbled, rubbing his jaw from where Thompson nailed him as he flailed about. He rolled him over and handcuffed him, then sat him back up.
Lucy shined her flashlight in his face. “Where did Vasquez take the hostages?”
“Who?”
“I’m not in the mood, Billy.”
“I don’t know whatcha talking about, ma’am.”
“Fuck this,” Lucy said. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through the security feeds at her house. She found one of the vans out front, and there was Billy Thompson leaning out of the driver’s seat. She shoved the phone in his face. “The men who broke into the house to kidnap a man, woman, and child had masks. The drivers did not. You have the right to remain silent, but I swear, if you don’t tell me what the fuck I want to know, I will forget where I put you for the next ten years.”
No one said anything. Were they surprised by her outburst? She wasn’t. All her rage had been pent up for so long that it was ready to explode.
“I-I-I d-don’t know,” he stuttered. “I-I don’t. I swear. I didn’t drive the van with the cargo.”
That might help. They had tracked the vans to a point after the fact, but lost them. If they could focus resources on one trail, they might find Sean sooner.
“Which van did you drive.”
“Um, it was white.”
Lucy wanted to hit him. She refrained. “They were identical white vans. You left the neighborhood. Were you the van that went north on I-Thirty-Five, south on I-Thirty-Five past I-Ten, or south on I-Thirty-Five then east on I-Ten.”
He looked confused. “I-I don’t know.”
“No one is this stupid, Billy. Which way did you go?”
“S-south. South all the way to the bar on Guadalupe, where we were to meet and get paid.”
“And did you meet and get paid?”
“Y-yes.”
“Which van had the cargo?”
“Am I in trouble?”
“What do you think?”
“I was just a driver!”
“Tell it to your priest. Where was the cargo heading?”
“I don’t know. But they went east on I-Ten. I don’t know where, I swear, they never told any of us, only the driver of that van. And he didn’t meet with us at the bar, he works directly for Mr. Vasquez.”
“What is his name.”
“Then I can go?”
“Sure.”
“Bubba Dobbins.”
“His real name.”
“That is his real name. His mother named him Bubba after her brother. I swear. Now can I go?”
“Absolutely. You can go straight to central booking.”
“But-but-but you said—”
Lucy was already walking away while Jason and Rod read Billy his rights. Leo said, “How did you know you had a photo of him?”
“I didn’t remember the face. But that isn’t a kid who can go into a house in full tactical gear and do what he’s supposed to do, so I made a guess that he was a driver and lucked out.” She looked around. “Where’s Jack?”
“He was in the tactical truck.”
She walked briskly back to the main parking lot. Jack wasn’t there. He was coming down the stairs from the first suspect’s apartment. “Don’t do that,” she told him.
He simply looked at her. He handed her a piece of paper. “That’s the list of all the places her low-life boyfriend Bruce Anders who gives her nothing but shit hangs out.” He smiled. “More flies with honey, little sister.”
* * *
Nate found Bandit over near Dafoste Park, miles from Sean’s house, limping and panting. He immediately stopped his truck and called the dog. Bandit came to him, and Nate hugged him, then gave him water. He drank all of it. Nate dug around for another bottle and Bandit drank all of that, too.
“Good boy. Get in.”
Bandit didn’t budge.
“You’re looking for Sean. So am I. You need to get into my truck, Bandit.”
Bandit whined.
They were in a residential neighborhood. Vasquez wouldn’t be holding Sean and the others here. But not far off was an industrial area, and that was the direction Bandit was heading.
How did Nate explain to the dog that he wanted to find Sean, too?
He sat down on the ground. Bandit whimpered and looked down the road.
“Okay,” Nate said. “We’ll do it your way.” He was about to lock up his truck and walk with Bandit when Bandit jumped into the passenger seat.
Nate shut the door and ran around to the driver’s seat. He rolled down the window so Bandit could smell. Maybe it was something about the exhaust, or he’d seen the van in the area, or what, Nate didn’t know. But Bandit had been going through search-and-rescue training, and maybe something in his dog brain told him they were going in the right direction.
Nate drove slow and Bandit had his head out the window. When Nate got to an intersection, Bandit barked. Nate had no idea what that meant. He went straight. Bandit barked again. Nate backed up—thankful there was no traffic after midnight—and turned right. Bandit seemed happy.
Nate couldn’t believe he was letting the dog navigate, but he didn’t have any other ideas, and Lucy would call if she needed him.
He continued east.
* * *
Sean wished he had his watch so he knew how much time had passed. He suspected a couple of hours. No one had come in to talk to them or give them food or water.
“Dad.”
Jesse was sitting with his mom.
Sean walked over. He was getting his strength back but still had a bitch of a headache.
“Something’s wrong with my mom,” Jesse said.
Sean feared the worst. But he hadn’t known what to do for her. He walked over, knelt on the hard floor. Found Madison’s cool hand.
Too cool.
He felt for her pulse.
He felt nothing. When he let her hand go, her arm fell heavily.
He put his hand on her chest.
Nothing. No rise and fall. No heartbeat.
Tears burned.
“Dad?” Jesse’s voice was full of fear. He knew. Instinctively, Jesse knew his mother was dead.
Sean was certain she’d slipped away sometime in the last thirty minutes, after he’d last checked on her. But he didn’t know what to do! He had nothing here, no equipment, no skills. He wasn’t even an EMT who might have known what was wrong with her. All he knew was that they had been drugged … and she never woke up.
“Dad.” Jesse wrapped his arms around Sean’s neck, his body shaking with silent sobs.
Sean clutched him tightly. “I’m so sorry.” His voice cracked.
He, too, had lost his mother when he was a young teenager. He had seen her dead and broken body after the plane crash and the rage and pain that fueled him had stuck with him for many years.
He felt it again. It was hot, burning, powerful, and he didn’t know how to contain it.
Except that he had someone—more than one someone—to live for. And Jesse was counting on him to find a way out of here.
Sean would not let his son down.
And when he could, he would make everyone pay for the fact that Jesse was forced to sit with his mother as she died, trapped in a dark room with her lifeless body.
* * *
Sometimes, old-fashioned police work worked best.
Lucy had a team behind her, and realized that a team that she trusted was the single greatest asset she could have as a law enforcement officer. They were all of one mind, they all knew what to do, and they all worked and gave above and beyond to track down where Vasquez was keeping Sean, Madison, and Jesse.
The information obtained from Thompson and Anders’s girlfriend led them to a bar—not on Guadalupe, but on the southeast side, where the two a.m. curfew didn’t mean much of anything and several dive bars clustered together in a two-block radius. The truck that had run Lucy and Jesse off the road was in the parking lot, clear because of the dent in the front passenger side and the scrapes off the paint. A good forensics tech would be able to match the paint with that on her car. She ran the plates.
Bubba Dobbins. It was nice that they had him now on two charges.
They raided the place, and ended up with half of Vasquez’s team in custody. Lucy and Leo pulled Bubba Dobbins aside while the rest of his gang were being cuffed and read their rights.
“You have one minute to make a deal,” Leo said. “Where did you take the hostages?”
“What hostages? You’re crazy, cop.”
“We already flipped one of your guys, we know you drove the cargo. We know you took them somewhere east, and if you don’t tell us, you’ll be an accessory to special circumstances kidnapping—drugging and transporting a minor under the age of fourteen.”
“What? That’s a law?” Dobbins looked closely at Lucy. “I know you.”
“You ran me off the road. That’s attempted murder of a federal officer.”
“Murder? Hell, it wasn’t murder. We was just supposed to grab you and the kid, not hurt anyone. But we was told to back off, the cops were nearly there and you had a gun and—oh.”
Not the sharpest tack in the box.
“Where are they, Bubba?”
He rubbed the back of his head. “What do I get out of it?”
“I don’t tell Bart Vasquez that you turned on him.”
“What? I mean, jail. I don’t go to jail, right?”
“You ran a federal agent off the road and kidnapped three people, I don’t think you’re going to avoid jail time. But,” Lucy said, “if you tell me right now, no more fucking around, I’ll say something nice about you to the prosecutor.”
“You’d do that for me? After I, like, totaled your car?”
“Yes. Now.”
“It’s an abandoned junkyard over off East Houston. Don’t have the address, but you can’t miss it. It takes up the entire block.”
“Where in the junkyard?”
“There’s just one building in the middle. Crap all around, rusting and shit.”
Lucy and Leo passed Bubba off to an SAPD officer, and Lucy called Nate.
“Nate, I know you’re looking for Bandit, but I need you.”
“I found him. He’s okay. His paws are a mess, but he’s going to be okay.”
Lucy was relieved.
“We’re heading out to a junkyard on East Houston. One of Vasquez’s men gave it up.”
“I know exactly where it is. In fact, I’m almost there.”
“How?”
“Bandit. He was tracking the van. I don’t know how, but he did, and we’re just around the corner from that place.”
“Wait for us, Nate. We’re ten minutes out.”
* * *
Sean went over the plan with Jesse for the third time. Jesse didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to leave his dad. He glanced over to where his mother was on a cot, dead. She was dead. He felt numb. He didn’t know what to do, what to think. He wanted everything back the way it was.
“But I don’t want to leave you,” he said. He sounded like a little kid, but he didn’t care. He was scared and if he ran he didn’t know what would happen.
“Jesse, listen to me, please,” Sean said. “This is the only way it works. I’m the distraction. You slip out. Run, don’t look back. Get out of the building. Hide if you have to, then at the first opportunity to get help, do it.”
“But what if they hurt you? What if—what if they—I can’t lose you, too, Dad.”
“I know you’re scared. I’m just as scared.”
“You’re scared? Then why can’t we just wait? Wait for Lucy and Nate to find us?”
“Because we don’t know exactly what’s going on, if they have a good lead, if they even know where to start looking. They have to process clues and evidence and that takes time. Sometimes we have to save ourselves. I will be okay. I promise.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Jesse, the only thing that matters is that you’re safe, do you understand?”
“No. You need to be okay. You need to come with me. I’m not going by myself.” He was crying and he didn’t care.
“You have to. I know this is hard, Jess, but you need to be brave and step up, right now. If we sit here we’re only going to get more tired, more dehydrated, and I’ll never be able to fight them off. But I can buy you time, okay?”
Jesse hugged him tight. He didn’t know what to do, but he trusted his dad. “Okay.”
Sean took a deep breath. “Showtime, Jess.”
He pounded on the door. “Someone! Help! Madison isn’t breathing! For shitsake! We need help in here!” He pounded again. Waited. Pounded. “We need a doctor! No one’s going to pay ransom if she’s dead! We need fucking help! Now, you bastards!”
Someone hit the door. “Back off, Rogan. All the way to the wall or I’ll shoot you. I get paid either way.”
“I’m backing off. Please, just get Madison to a doctor.”
Sean turned to Jesse. “Be ready.” Jesse was flat against the wall next to the door. Sean was standing next to Madison’s body.
The door opened. There were lights outside, and for a second Sean couldn’t see anything except a big hulking shadow. Then two shadows.
“Got out of your ties, I see. Turn around, Rogan, and we’ll secure you.”
“She’s not breathing!” Sean picked up Madison’s arm. “She’s dying. Don’t you get it? She’s in serious trouble.”
“Back away from her.”
Sean took two steps back.
One of the men walked in. The other blocked the doorway.
The second man said, “Where’s the kid?”
“Sleeping,” Sean said. “By the lockers.”
Both men looked. Sean took that moment to throw bleach cleaner into the face of the man closest to him. He grabbed the mop handle and jabbed him hard in the stomach.
The second man ran in and Jesse ran out behind him. Thank God he obeyed.
The first man couldn’t speak. He was down on his knees.
“She’s dead, you fucking bastards. You killed her.” Sean took the mop handle and swung it at the second thug. He fought with Sean over it and Sean let go. The guy stumbled backward.
“Victor! We need help in here!” the second guy shouted.
Sean pushed him and the brute got a punch square in Sean’s jaw. Shit, that hurt! But he needed to buy Jesse time to get out.
He collapsed to his knees by the door. Pulled the hooks out of his pockets. The first guy was still out of commission, and Sean could hear shouts of the other men outside the room. The brute pulled Sean and was about to slam him against the wall when Sean took the hook and aimed for his face.
He must have been right on target because the thug screamed and his grip on Sean loosened. Sean kicked his feet out from under him and turned to run, right into a guy much larger than him. Victor.
And Victor had a gun.
“You’ll watch your girlfriend and the brat die before I put a bullet in your head.”
One of the thugs said, “The kid. Isn’t. Here.”
A gunshot far in the distance, in the junkyard, had Sean enraged.
“If you hurt my son, I will tear you apart!” The rage made him blind. He had to be smart.
The second man stumbled out of the locker room, bleeding from his eye. He tried to hit Sean, but his aim was off and Sean used his momentum against him and shoved him toward Victor, then he ran. He wanted to kill them both, but self-preservation and the overwhelming need to find Jesse and make sure he was safe filled him.
He heard the gun at the same time he felt the burning in the back of his left arm. Thank God the guy was a bad shot—six inches or so to the right and it would have gone through his heart.
Sean ran.
* * *
Jesse ran as his dad had instructed.
Run and don’t look back.
He had no idea where he was going. There was a lot of junk in the building, but it was mostly pushed to the side, and he ran down a wide hall, away from where he heard shouts. He could probably hide in here somewhere, but Sean said to get out, get out of the building.
A door was directly in front of him. He pushed at it. It was stuck. He pushed harder.
“That’s the kid!” he heard far behind him.
The door had one of those sliding bolts on the top, and Jesse stood on his toes to push it up and out of the lock. The door opened and he stumbled out.
“Stop, kid! Stop or I’ll shoot!”
“Don’t kill him! We need him for the money. Shit, Conrad, you’re an idiot.”
Jesse missed the rest of the conversation because he was in the yard.
It was dark. He could see some lights far off, but everywhere around him were towering piles of rusting metal, broken cars, old pipes. He hesitated just a second, then turned to the right because that looked like it had the widest path.
Behind him he heard the door slam open again. “Go right, I’ll go left.”
Maybe Jesse could find a place to hide. But wouldn’t they find him? The path was getting narrower. He turned and came right up against a fence. He was trapped.
A dog barked. Were there dogs patrolling? Was he going to be attacked by an animal? Could he climb one of the car piles? Hide above everything?
Then he saw a golden retriever. He barked again.
“Bandit?”
“Down!” he heard, though he couldn’t see where the voice came from. Bandit dropped to the ground, and so did Jesse. He heard a gunshot, and then a guy grunted and fell into a pile of metal.
“Jess, it’s Nate.”
“Nate?”
This all felt unreal.
Bandit ran over and licked Jesse’s face. Jesse hugged him tightly.
The sound of a gunshot from inside the building behind them made Jesse jump.
“Dad—Nate, you have to save my dad!”
Nate was talking to someone else.
“I have Jesse. He’s safe, I’m taking him out.”
“No, no, my dad is in there. He’s your best friend. Don’t leave him, you have to save him!”
There was another gunshot and Jesse screamed in frustration.
Nate grabbed him by the arm. “There’s a team going in to save Sean and Madison right this minute. They know you’re safe, and my job is to get you out of here.”
“My mom is dead. She never woke up. I can’t lose my dad, too. I can’t. Please, Nate.”
Nate put his arm protectively around Jesse. “I’m so sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry.” He relayed the information over the com and brought Jesse out the way he and Bandit came in, through a hole in the fence that he had cut himself.
* * *
The first gunshot came from deep in the junkyard, and Leo told his SWAT team to be ready on his order.
The men were in formation.
When Lucy heard the second gunshot, much closer, she knew that someone was in trouble.
She turned to Leo. He was fully decked out in SWAT gear and had his men ready. She had to go in behind them. She wasn’t SWAT.
Leo was listening to his com. “Nate has Jesse. Delta team, meet Agent Dunning and one hostage at the south fence, stat. Beta team, go go go! Alpha team, go go go!”
Leo led the Alpha team from here; Beta team was set up at the other entrance. Lucy stood at the entrance with Jason Lopez, in protective gear but not part of the team.
Through the coms she heard orders as SWAT commanded everyone they encountered to get down, hands up.
She heard clear, clear, clear. Four hostiles were being escorted out.
“We have a body. Female. Medic, stat.”
Two medics ran in. They were agents, but not SWAT. Once SWAT cleared the situation, the paramedics could go in.
Suddenly she heard Leo command everyone to stop.
“Put the gun down, young man,” Leo said over the com.
Lucy went in.
“Don’t, Lucy,” Jason said.
She ignored him.
Lucy followed the path SWAT took and stood immediately behind Rod Rodriguez, who was holding position outside a room. His gun was trained on a large man who held a gun to Sean’s head. Sean’s arm was bleeding.
Leo was in front of his men. He was trying to talk the man down. “Everyone else surrendered. You’re the only one holding out. Is Vasquez worth that? Is he worth your life? Because I guarantee that you will die if you pull that trigger.”
“This prick will die, too.”
“Don’t be so sure of that,” Leo said. “I’ve seen Rogan here get out of trickier situations. Like the time that lovestruck psycho held a kid and a DEA agent at gunpoint. Right, Sean?”
That wasn’t Sean, that was her, Lucy realized. But Sean knew exactly what Leo wanted him to do—a command to go right. At the time, Lucy knew that there had been a sniper set up to take a shot, but she had to maneuver the shooter into his line of sight. This time, all Sean had to do was move so he wouldn’t be in the line of fire.
Sean immediately understood, leaning to the right and dropping to the ground so quickly she almost didn’t see him act. Lucy couldn’t see who took the shot, but it took the left side of the gunman’s skull clear off as soon as Sean had moved. The man went down without firing a shot.
Sean stumbled away.
“Medic!” Lucy called as she ran over to Sean.
“Jess—”
“Nate has him.”
“I thought I sent him to his death. I thought my plan wasn’t going to work. I was so scared.”
“You’ve been shot.”
“I’m okay.” Sean grabbed her and held on. “Madison is dead. I couldn’t protect them, Luce. I promised they would be safe, and they weren’t. I couldn’t protect anyone.”
“You did, Sean. Jesse is safe.”
But he wasn’t listening to her. He just held her tight, his entire body shaking uncontrollably as he silently sobbed.