JACK GRABBED BREE’S ARM and pulled her behind a large cement block, then glanced around it, trying to determine where the shots were coming from. There was only one response in a situation like this for law enforcement and first responders, and that was to locate and disarm the shooter. But Jack was pinned down and helpless. He watched a speedboat carry the gunman past the dock as he emptied another round of bullets. People screamed as they scrambled for cover. Then a second later, the shots stopped as suddenly as they had started.
Bree scrambled to her feet a split second before him. “They just shot our only lead.”
Jack moved beside her out into the open. The boat had reversed course and was heading back out into deep water. And their prisoner lay motionless on the ground.
Adam was shouting into his radio for an ambulance. Another officer hurried to the fallen man and started assessing him while a pool of blood gathered beneath his head.
Bree ran for the shoreline and the police boat they’d just been in. “We need to go after them.”
There was no time to make a plan. She was already halfway up the boat ramp. Jack followed her, determined she wasn’t going to go after them alone. She was right that they needed to find the men behind this, but they also needed a strategy. He still had his weapon, but she was unarmed, shifting any odds against them. Ten seconds later, he was following her orders and untying the stern and bow lines while she started the engine, thankful someone had already untied the boat they’d been towing.
Adam jumped into the stern of the boat as the engine roared to life. “Go!”
Bree maneuvered away from the dock, then sped across the water in the direction of the shooters.
“What just happened back there?” Adam shouted above the noise of the motor.
“I have no idea, but our suspect got caught in the middle.”
“Or maybe, like you and the senator, he was targeted.”
There was no way to determine the motivation at this point—other than someone had to have wanted to silence the man—but from what Jack had seen, he was pretty sure the perpetrators had swept in and done exactly what they’d planned to do before leaving. And that was to kill their suspect.
Bree gripped the helm. “How fast can this thing go?”
“You should be able to get at least sixty knots out of it. Which is hopefully faster than their boat.”
Jack stood beside her, surprised at the feelings of protection sweeping through him at the sight of her stepping into danger. He didn’t want her out here risking her life, but he knew he was wrong to be worried. Bree wasn’t the teenage best friend he remembered from over a decade ago. She was trained to handle a situation like this and knew exactly what she was doing. He remembered her as being carefree and even a bit impulsive, but her instincts had almost always been dead-on.
But as proficient as she was, he also knew she’d been through a trauma this morning. Not only had she watched someone shoot her father figure right in front of her, she’d been grabbed and kidnapped. What she’d gone through would disturb even a seasoned law enforcement officer. He glanced at her and caught the determination in her face. She’d be okay, but at some point she would have to face what had just happened and the emotional repercussions she wouldn’t be able to ignore.
Adam stood to the side, holding on to one of the grab rails while talking with his supervisor and requesting another boat along with a helicopter for backup. They skimmed across the water with the enemy boat racing ahead of them in the shallow waters. Law enforcement used these sleek boats because of their lightweight design, speed, and maneuverability in both shallow and rough waters, but it was going to take skill to catch up with the other boat and ensure no one was hurt in the process. But if anyone could outmaneuver the enemy, Bree could.
He turned to his brother. “Are they sending backup?”
“There’s a second boat behind us, and the chopper’s five minutes out.”
Jack shook his head. “That won’t be good enough. They’ll be long gone by then if we don’t get them first.”
“Then we better be prepared for a confrontation.”
Adam unlocked one of the storage compartments and pulled out a handgun and two rifles. He shoved the handgun into his back holster and set one of the rifles next to Bree.
“Glad you’re on our team,” he said.
She glanced down at her camo jacket and pants. “I might not be in uniform, but I’m ready for a fight.”
Jack stared out across the water. The other boat had vanished. “Do you see him?”
“He slipped out of view,” she said, “but he should be just beyond that next bend.”
They sped along the water, still with no sign of the other boat. Jack felt his neck muscles tense. There were miles of inlets in this area, and many of them didn’t allow motor-driven boat traffic. Which meant the sound of a motor should stand out.
Jack squeezed her shoulder. “Turn off the motor.”
She nodded, then shut it down and let the boat coast across the water. They listened for the other boat. There were dozens of inlets and coves where a boat could slip in and disappear. The familiar sounds of ducks and other birds played out around them. Finally, he heard the sound of a motor humming ahead of them. Jack signaled toward the east.
“Got ’em.”
Bree maneuvered across the water toward the sound. She’d always been the outdoor type, and clearly that hadn’t changed. She was still just as smart and competent. And just as beautiful.
He thrust aside the thought as she pushed on the throttle and upped their speed. He grabbed the binoculars in front of him, equipped with a digital camera, and turned on the image stabilizer.
“Can you see them?” Adam asked.
He studied the horizon, then zoomed in, looking for any kind of distinguishing marks that might lead to identifying either the boat or its driver.
“We need to get closer, but I’ve got two males in my sites. Both Asian and both armed.”
“Any markings on the boat?” Adam asked.
“Nothing identifiable from the back. It’s an older model . . . a Sanger flat bottom. There’s no way to read the hull identification number at this distance. But wait a minute . . .”
The boat was turning slightly, following the route of the narrow waterway. “There’s a number and name on the side of the boat. Two . . . five . . . seven . . . And the name is White Pearl.”
“Got it.” Adam passed on the information to his captain back on shore, along with an update on their position. “Now we just have to hope the boat’s not stolen.”
Jack stared through the binoculars. The men were shouting at each other, arms flailing, like they were in a heated conversation. One of them stepped to the bow of the boat and pulled out a couple of automatic weapons.
“What have you got?” Adam asked.
“They’ve taken at least two more automatic weapons from their storage hold,” Jack said.
“What do you want me to do?” Bree asked.
She waited as Adam relayed her question to his captain.
“Captain McClure wants us to hold our position. Keep them in our sites but wait for backup before we engage with them.”
“Roger that.”
Jack steadied himself beside her, still keeping tabs on the men through the binoculars. But he was worried about her. There hadn’t been time for her to process anything that had happened this morning. And in reality, she needed to be at the hospital right now, being checked out, not chasing their suspects. He glanced at her and caught her tense expression. She had to be exhausted mentally, but also emotionally.
Jack kept his gaze on the enemy boat but his attention on Bree. “Do you think they made the wrong call?” he asked. “Having us wait for backup?”
She shook her head. “I know they’re right. If we go in now, someone’s going to get hurt. But I just . . . I just can’t stop thinking about Papps. He was losing so much blood. I’m afraid he’s not going to make it.”
“I know. And I’m so sorry.”
As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t promise her Papps would be okay. Or that any of this was going to turn out okay for that matter. There was simply no way to know. What he did know was that she was strong, and as hard as the situation was, she was trained for it—facing the enemy instead of running away.
“But the bottom line is that even if Nico is behind this,” he said, “this is not your fault.”
“I know.” She frowned. “On one level at least. I just can’t stop seeing Papps’s face after he’d been shot, and wondering how he is.”
“We’ll get you there as soon as we can. I promise.”
“Jack . . .” They were still at least a hundred yards behind the second boat. Close enough to monitor them, but far enough away to ensure they were safe until backup came. “What are they doing?”
He held up the binoculars again and studied the boat. One of the men was opening up a storage console in the stern of the boat. He pulled something out, then hoisted the weapon up onto his shoulder before turning around and facing them. Jack’s heart pounded as his mind unscrambled what he was seeing. This wasn’t just another automatic weapon. And they were aiming at the boat.
“Adam . . . Bree . . . they’ve got some kind of grenade launcher.”
“A what?”
“We need to jump—now!”
He heard a whizzing sound streaming toward them. Bree jumped away from the console and into the water. He was right behind her, but a second before he hit the water, the boat exploded into a ball of flames.