Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2) (16 page)

His cell rang and he saw it was his boss, ASAC Lincoln Frazer. For a moment he was tempted not to answer but, crap… “Brennan.”

“I just got a call from the head of US Marshal Service in Minnesota. Safe house was attacked,” Frazer said without preamble.

Even as Jed climbed to his feet he saw other agents lunging for flak jackets and running out of HQ. “Any casualties?”

“It looks bad, Jed.”

Jed’s vision tunneled. He couldn’t even force out the words to ask about Vivi and Michael, especially not to a man who kept telling him not to get involved. If anything happened to them, so help him…

They shouldn’t mean so much to him. He shouldn’t have let them. He raced to his car and heard a shout. Patrick Killion ran out beside him. “I just heard. Both marshals are down. So is the shrink. No word on Vivi or Michael.”

“Hinkle was there?” No one had told him the meeting had been arranged already. Jed got in the car, started her up and peeled away from the curb before Killion pulled the door fully closed.

“Yup. I got a call earlier but I was in chatting with our pal Abdullah. He’s in it up to his neck, but he thinks he’s stringing me along like I’m some rookie.” Killion checked the bullets in his SIG. Intelligence officers didn’t usually carry guns but Jed wasn’t surprised to see this one did. “The doctor must have led the bad guys straight to the safe house. Fucking smart to keep tabs on the guy.”

“Or they have an inside man.” Jed didn’t look at the spook but it was obvious what he was thinking.

“Not very smart to accuse the guy riding shotgun of being in league with terrorists,” Killion replied coolly. “Especially when he just checked his weapon.”

Jed tensed.

“Lucky for you I don’t hold grudges and I don’t collude with mad fuckers who stage shootouts in packed malls. I may be an asshole but I’m a patriotic asshole.”

“Good to know.” Not that he necessarily believed the guy but for now he didn’t care. Someone somewhere had leaked information, or these guys had eyes and ears in way more places than they should. That suggested powerful allies and oodles of cash, something these organizations never seemed to lack.

“We didn’t catch them all,” Jed said.

“No fucking kidding.”

“They have more attacks planned,” Jed continued.

“Because otherwise they’d have scattered like roaches and not worried about the boy.”

Exactly
. They were worried Michael had overheard their plans.

The roads were icy. He’d thankfully put on snow tires ahead of his trip to Wisconsin. They still skidded like a hockey player going in for a tackle. Jed was forced to slow down. Just this morning he’d promised on his life Vivi would be safe. What the fuck did his promises mean if terrorists could infiltrate law enforcement enough to figure out the location of a US Marshal Service safe house? Why did they even pretend they could combat this?

He was on the highway, tucked in behind an ambulance, all sirens blazing, forging their way through stacked up traffic on the 77. He didn’t let himself think about Vivi or Michael. It wouldn’t bring them back if they were dead. It wouldn’t track them down if they were missing. He shoved the guilt deeper, along with the rage, and pulled out the cold, hard version of himself that got the job done. He would catch these guys. He would shut them down.

He and Killion didn’t speak for the next five minutes as Jed concentrated on driving at high speed in difficult conditions. A uniform tried to stop him at the end of the drive but Jed showed him his badge and drove on regardless. Two other ambulances were pulled up in front of the house, but the medics weren’t treating anyone. Fuck. Squad cars, sheriff’s deputies, city cops were everywhere. Law enforcement swirled around trying to figure out who was in charge and who had jurisdiction. With two marshals dead and a safe house compromised it was going to be between Marshals, DOJ, the FBI and the task force. Jed pulled up around the side of the house, in front of the garage, out of the way of any emergency vehicles. Killion jumped out but waited for him. Jed was probably the most senior FBI agent on the scene right now, that’s why the guy stuck close. It wasn’t for his winning personality or fragrant cologne.

The front door stood wide open. Wood splintered, glass broken. One marshal lay in the hallway covered in blood. An unfamiliar male, clasping an AK-47, lay on his back at the bottom of the steps. He had three holes in his chest.

They stepped inside, avoiding blood spatter. Hinkle was in a heap on the kitchen floor, brains blown out. Another terrorist lay beside him with a hole in his back. Jed would bet money the marshal had taken him down, even as he’d lain dying.

Good for them.
Good for fucking them. He shoved down the heartache for his fellow law enforcement officers and concentrated on his job.

Find Vivi and Michael.

“How many tangos?” Jed asked, taking the stairs two at a time.

“One marshal reported four armed gunmen.”

“They have search parties in place?”

“McKenzie instigated roadblocks and put the city back on high alert.”

Jed skidded into Vivi’s room, bracing himself for what he was about to find. One of the marshals lay on the floor in a pool of blood. A medic stepped away and shook his head. Another tango lay dead with a hole in his face.
Ugh
. The saliva in Jed’s mouth dried up. The marshal had defended mother and child to the death. The wardrobe doors were all ajar as if someone had been searching for something. Jed checked the bathroom as Killion scoured the other bedrooms.

They met in the hallway.

“No sign?” Jed asked.

“Nothing,” Killion confirmed.

Jed walked back down the stairs. “Find any more bodies on this level?” he asked a deputy.

“No. And there’s no basement. I checked.”

Despair hit him, and he turned to the spook. “Call McKenzie and tell him we think one of the attackers took Vivi and Michael with them. Hey,” he gestured a group of cops toward him. “I want you to search the woods toward the river. Parallel with any tracks—mark them and photograph them to try and preserve evidence. Be careful, there is at least one suspect at large and two witnesses missing. A kid and his mother. Both are redheads.”

The cops nodded and organized the search party, glad of something useful to do.

In the kitchen, Killion crouched and checked the psychiatrist’s neck for a pulse. “He’s still warm. They can’t be far away. We’ll find them.”

Sure they’d find them. Riddled with bullets and dumped on the side of the road.

Jed didn’t want useless words. “Call your people. Find out who is orchestrating this shit.” He frowned at all the shell casings littering the floor. “The task force needs detailed intel so we can stop this—even if it points to someone above your pay grade.”
Syria
. He didn’t say it out loud. He wasn’t going to be the security leak responsible for causing a war. But he would push for answers, regardless of how difficult those answers might be.

He didn’t hold out hope for Vivi or Michael. The most he could ask for was that they died quickly. Grief smashed him in the gut and threatened to bring him to his knees. Despite what his boss thought, Jed had learned to compartmentalize his feelings, to shove the humanity of the victims into a box where they wouldn’t invade his dreams. Hell, he dealt with nightmare scenarios on an almost-daily basis so he had to be able to detach to get the job done. He’d tried to stuff Vivi and Michael into one of those boxes. Failed.

This was personal.

He cared about the Vincents.

So maybe his boss was right. Maybe Jed wasn’t cut out for this job after all. Maybe some ice cold schmuck would be a better agent than he’d ever be.

Something suspiciously like tears burned the back of his eyes. No way was he breaking down in front of the others. He strode away, going through the back door and standing hands in pockets, inhaling large gulps of frigid air. Footprints led around to the front of the house, and off down toward the woods. Jed drew in a tight breath. Christ, the air was so cold it hurt to breathe, but he didn’t care. He felt numb.

He’d been attracted to Vivi, her beauty, her vivid hair, her take-no-bullshit attitude. He’d seen the stark vulnerability she tried so hard to hide. And he really liked her kid. The boy was brave and sweet.

He pressed his lips together, fighting emotions.
Get a hold, Brennan. Do your fucking job
. He’d lost people before—Bobby, Mia. She’d died on base and the Army had been willing to sweep her murder under the carpet until he’d contacted Quantico and persuaded them a serial killer was at work. He hadn’t let go of the case until Lincoln Frazer had actually arrested the guy. His tenacity made him a good agent, but his need for results meant he could never let
anything
go—hence his never-ending workload and barren personal life.

He went back inside, glanced into the garage and did a quick walk through. There were two cars parked. An SUV and a sedan. He walked around both vehicles. There were no bullet holes in here. Didn’t look like the bad guys had made it inside this area. Pulling on a latex glove he touched the garage door opener and the door rattled open. He checked the snow on the driveway. Although it had been shoveled earlier, a tiny sprinkling of fresh snow was enough to tell him no one had entered or left this way. He went back inside and closed the massive double garage door. He flicked off the light.

A muffled thump made him pause.

Had that come from upstairs?

He shook his head, deciding it was his imagination. Then he heard it again and froze. The noise was coming from the trunk of the silver sedan. He drew his weapon and slipped off his shoes so he could move silently over concrete that was fuck-me freezing.

He stood off to one side, touched the trunk’s latch and squeezed, keeping his gun trained on the center of the space, finger on the trigger.

A pale face dominated by massive blue eyes met his. Big ass Beretta clasped in her shaking hand pointed in his direction.
Vivi
. And behind her a lump of blanket squirmed.
Michael
. They were safe. They were alive.

She lowered the gun. “I think they found us, Jed.”

CHAPTER TEN

P
utting his weapon back in his holster, he leaned inside, cradled her head in his hands and kissed her full on the mouth. Her lips were icy cold, and tasted of sweet coffee and tears. She clung to him, obviously terrified from her ordeal. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds, just long enough for him to remember she was a witness and this was unprofessional, but she tasted so damn good it was a shame he’d never be able to do it again. He pulled away. Then hugged her, squeezing tight. “Jesus Christ, you scared me.”

She shook so violently her bones rattled inside his embrace.

It took a full thirty seconds for him to let go.

“Are the marshals…?” Her voice trembled. The question was left unfinished, her glance cut toward Michael.

Dead
?

He nodded.

“How did they find us?”

That question brought Jed up short. How
had
they found them? Had they followed the doctor? Maybe. Or was there a leak inside one of the many law enforcement departments involved in this whole terrorist investigation?

“I don’t know.” They were both whispering. He heard people talking inside the house and made a quick decision. One that would probably get him fired from a job he loved. Hell, it might get him arrested, but he didn’t see any alternative that would keep Vivi and Michael safe. “I’m going to open the garage door. My car is parked right there. I’m going to leave the rear door open to help block you from sight. You guys throw yourself on the floor of the back seat and keep covered with this blanket. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Vivi’s eyes had dark smudges beneath them. Her forehead furrowed.

“Can you manage him?” Jed pointed to Michael.

“Of course.” Like she’d ever admit anything else.

He closed the door into the house, flipped the lock, and slipped his shoes back on. Then he jogged back and helped her climb out of the trunk. It wasn’t as easy as it looked and he lifted her carefully, placing her gently onto the floor while she found her feet. She only came up to his chin, her frame as fragile as spun glass beneath his palms. “I’d give you my shoes if it wouldn’t raise suspicion.”

Her lips formed a heart-breaking smile. She and her son had been through hell the last few days, cold feet were the least of her problems.

“You’ve done enough.”

Hardly
. So far he’d failed in his promise and almost gotten her killed.

He tugged Michael out of the trunk and wrapped him up in the blanket, then handed him over to his mom. “Stay in the corner over there while I check that it’s clear outside. If anyone’s outside I’ll try and redirect them. Bottom line is I don’t want anyone knowing you guys are alive. Not yet.”

She didn’t ask why. Maybe she’d already figured it out. He raised the door again, then made a show of getting something out of the rear seat of his SUV, before heading back into the garage and leaving the car door wide open. Vivi hopped quickly into the SUV and disappeared. He came back and slammed the door shut, obliterating her footprints as he went. He headed back inside, closed the garage door and unlatched the door into the house to allay any suspicion. Then he put his cell to his ear and made it sound like he was being ordered back to headquarters. Killion was thankfully upstairs taking photographs.

Jed went out the front door. A team of marshals was unloading from a work van. Keene and Townsend—the marshals from last night—climbed out, both looking shaken and pissed. If the attack had occurred earlier it could have been them cooling on the safe house floor. That knowledge combined with the loss of friends and colleagues was bound to haunt them, not to mention the US Marshal Service hated to lose witnesses. If they found out he’d whisked Michael and Vivi away without telling them they’d lynch him.