Game of Fear (21 page)

Shrapnel flew toward them. Deb hit the ground as the fiery wood and metal sliced through the air. She lifted her head cautiously. Secondary explosions tore through both the front and back of Sammy’s Bar. The back of the building was engulfed.

She ran around front, her feet slipping on ice and chunked piles of snow. She fought for balance and moved on. Smoke and flames billowed out some of the windows. Patrons, some burned and bleeding, staggered out the doors or used chairs to break through the windows to escape.

“We’ve got to get everyone out,” Gabe yelled. He looked around. “Zach and Hawk are still in there!”

God.

She skidded to a halt. The main explosion had centered in the rear kitchen, but the front had suffered substantial damage as well. Cops and patrons helped drag the injured through the smoke, coughing and choking. A few people had collapsed on the ground.

A man with blood streaming down his face was kneeling on the asphalt, calling 9-1-1. Deb recognized him. He usually sat at the bar. She knelt beside him, amid the debris and broken glass. “Are there others left inside?”

The guy’s eyes had glazed over in shock, but he nodded. He keeled over and Deb caught him and laid him down, shoving some chunks of debris under his legs to elevate them.

Gabe, his brothers, and a few cops started back inside, though. Fire engine sirens screamed in the distance, but with all the alcohol inside, the place could light up any second.

They had to get everyone out. Fast.

Deb ran in the bar. Soot burned her eyes as she peered into the roiling clouds of smoke. A fire blazed hot in the corner, near the kitchen door. Hawk and Gabe held fire extinguishers dousing the flames. Nick and Luke were dragging wounded people out the door.

Zach Montgomery—she recognized him from movies and late-night television—carried a female deputy out the door.

Deb searched the rubble for signs of the injured.

She caught a glimpse of a polished black shoe. She shoved aside a fallen table. Hidden behind it, a cop lay flat, facedown. She knelt beside him, then turned him over. A huge gash marred the side of his head, blood covered his face.

His chest didn’t move. He wasn’t breathing.

She felt for his pulse. No heartbeat, either.

No time for CPR here. Flames were licking closer to this section. Quickly, Deb shoved aside another table so she could grab him under the shoulders and pull him out.

Gabe passed the extinguisher to Nick and ran to help her.

“We’ve got to get him out of here,” she wheezed, the smoke already affecting her lungs. “He’s not breathing.”

Gabe picked up the cop’s feet, and they raced out of the building.

She knelt beside him, placed her hands on his chest, and started CPR. “Gabe, get an ambulance here! Fast.”

He called a number. “They’re already on the way. You need help with him?”

“No, I got this,” she said, meeting his gaze. “Go save your bar.”

“A life is more important.”

“Then see if anyone else is in there.” She tilted the victim’s head back. “This is what I do. Go.”

She focused on reviving the cop. When her arms had nearly given out, the paramedics arrived and whisked him off in an ambulance. She hoped he’d make it.

Deb sat back on her heels, then stood, her knees a bit wobbly. She scanned the horrific scene, too much like the aftermath of an insurgent attack. Cops and ambulances everywhere. Burned and bloody people being shoved onto gurneys and into squad cars for trips to the hospital. She wiped the perspiration from her brow. The front of the bar smoldered now, the smoke no longer hellish black.

Gabe came over and stood beside her, his stance stiff and unyielding.

“Are your brother and Hawk okay?”

“Yeah. A little singed, but fine.”

“What happened?”

“Gas explosion in the kitchen. Both the cooks and several patrons are dead. A lot more are injured, everything from broken bones and third-degree burns to shrapnel and glass lacerations. Some of them aren’t going to make it.”

He rubbed his face with his hands. “God, I never meant for this to happen.”

“Was it an accident?”

His regret-filled gaze rose to meet hers. “No, I really pissed somebody off.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

T
HE BREAKFAST SMELLS
of the cafeteria
didn’t make Ashley’s mouth water. They just made her sick. She shuffled through the double doors to the lunchroom. With every step, pain pierced her side. She couldn’t see the wound or get to it. The Warden had cut her just far enough back to be out of reach.

She wanted to dig the chip out, but she’d been warned. They’d know if she tampered with it. She was tethered to this place now.

In fighting, she’d created a prison with another set of bars.

The doors swished behind her, but instead of low conversations of kids pretending to be normal, she entered into an eerie silence.

The lunchroom was quiet except for the sound of spoons and the occasional plastic cup on the hard plastic tables.

No one had forks or knives.

Ashley slowly made her way across the room. She could feel the tension rise. Several teens glared at her. This place was bad enough. Ashley’s troublemaking had brought the full fury of the Warden down on them.

Any whispers.
Punishment
.

Any note-passing.
Punishment
.

A failure on a level.
Punishment
.

And Ashley had somehow become the leader of the troublemakers.

By the time she reached Justin’s table, she thought she might pass out. She sat across from him. He lowered his gaze, then made a quick scissor motion with his fingers.

She nodded. Yeah, they’d cut her.

The muscles in his jaw pulsed. His gaze narrowed on the guards, skewering them with hatred. They both knew she couldn’t leave with them as planned. The chip set off the sensors and then acted as a tracking device.

He frowned, then sat back, sadness lining his face. He didn’t want to leave without her. She placed her hand on the table, inches away from his, for just a moment.

She needed him to leave. Needed him to get to Deb.

They’d never touched or kissed since they’d been here, but he still made her feel things she’d never felt before.

She just wished he could hold her, make her feel safe for a second. None of them were safe, though.

She flicked her gaze to Dave, snagging his attention, then back at Justin. Shielding her hand from view, she briefly made a walking motion on the table, then rested her hand on the table and gave a quick thumbs-up. They would leave through the C2 exit tonight.

As long as she did her part.

She’d already programmed the C grid to shut off. The timing had to be perfect. This was their one chance.

The redheaded guard slammed his hand down on the table between them. Then he grinned and gripped his baton. He slapped the wood against his palm and gave them all knowing glances.

He didn’t have to say a word. He’d love to beat the crap out of them.

Everyone lowered their gazes.

The spoons stilled. The room had gone silent, the tension unbearable.

After several minutes, he walked back to his post. Utensils scraped against the plates again.

The moment the guy turned his back, Floyd, sitting at the table opposite Ashley, winked.

She had to wonder if, after his brother’s murder, he’d gone a little crazy. Or if he just didn’t care anymore.

Floyd had been here longer than almost anyone. He knew this place. He was the one who had warned her that the Warden had cops and FBI on the payroll, that once they got out, they had to find someone they trusted.

Justin had promised her he would find Deb—and no one else.

Ashley shifted in her chair. The movement pulled at her side and she winced. Floyd gave a slight cough. She looked at him, eyes wide. What was he doing?

He lowered his head and she followed the movement to his hands.

His finger barely stirred, but he tapped out a message in Morse code.
Mail sent yesterday.

The package to her sister.

He knew? If Floyd knew, who else?

Panic made her cheeks flush.

OK
, he tapped out.

But would her sister understand the message? Ashley could only pray. If Justin and Dave didn’t make it . . . that package might be their only hope.

A few familiar guards entered the room, this time bearing automatic weapons.

The room went silent again.

Whispers had circulated since she’d arrived that something huge was going down. Guards with guns. It didn’t look like it was going to be a lot of fun.

Ashley swallowed hard.

If the Warden was turning this place into an armed camp, maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe it would be better if her sister stayed away.

T
he charred shell of Sammy’s Bar looked even worse in the light of day. The stench of soaking, burned debris filling the parking lot made Deb’s stomach roil. This was Denver, Colorado, not a war zone, and yet, it looked like a drone had hit the place.

A shiver skittered down her back just before a warm hand touched her shoulder. “It’s a mess, isn’t it?” Gabe’s warm breath teased her ear.

“You can rebuild,” she said.

“Maybe.”

She looked over her shoulder at him, at his fatigue-filled eyes, at the hurt just beneath the surface. She saw depths in Gabe that she hadn’t expected. Especially after last night.

She faced him. “How are you doing?”

“No one ever asks me that.” He touched her cheek. “Not bad, except I wish we hadn’t fallen asleep in that hotel room. Not how I’d planned to spend our first night in the same bed.”

She stared at the collar peeking over the neck of his sweater. “Me, either, but it was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time.”

Gabe leaned close, his presence seducing her in the middle of disaster. “Too bad it took a fire and a break-in to force us into what we both want. Want to try again? Soon? Like tonight?”

God, he was charming. They hadn’t spent the night in that hotel for a quick—or long—night of hot, wet, slow kisses. They went there because his place reeked of smoke; hers was a disaster, but more importantly, too many people knew where they lived.

He wouldn’t take a chance with her safety. He’d been betrayed, but he still fought . . . for her sister and for his family. She knew if she needed this man he would be there. She couldn’t say that about everyone.

Certainly not her father.

She couldn’t even say that about herself. Not after what had happened in Afghanistan.

A comforting warmth emanated from him. Just a few more inches and he would kiss her. She placed her hand just over his heart. She wet her lips and a small groan purred in his chest.

“Am I interrupting?” Neil Wexler asked.

Deb started and sprang back.

“Great timing, Detective,” Gabe muttered.

A small smile crossed the detective’s exhausted face. Neil shook his head. “Just couldn’t resist. Sorry.”

He nodded at the arson investigator who knelt beside the gas line leading to the kitchen. “The fire department called it a very efficient attack. The perp used acid to eat through the gas lines, here and inside. As soon as the gas hit the air near the grill, the place went up. Simple, but effective.”

“They knew exactly what they were doing,” Deb said quietly. Gabe was in his own small war, and right now, the bad guys were winning.

“The explosion was definitely intentional,” Neil said, thumbing through his notepad, “though it could have been chalked up to a gas leak if the section of pipe out back hadn’t remained relatively intact. The regularity of the acid damage on the copper negates that.” With a speculative look, Neil studied Gabe. “Exactly how many enemies do you have?”

Gabe let out a long, slow breath. “All former cops have enemies. Nature of the job, right?”

“You seem to have more than your share of people who want to kill you. Two incidents an hour apart. These are serious warnings, Gabe. We might want to put you into protective—”

“No way.” Gabe ignored Neil and looked at Deb. “I’m not disappearing.”

“Maybe you should . . .” Deb’s voice trailed off when a car screeched into the parking lot. She tensed until John Garrison stepped out of the vehicle.

Anna Montgomery followed quickly. The wind whipped her coat open. She didn’t seem to care, she just jumped out of the car and ran to Gabe.

She clasped him close, clinging to him, her arms firm and tight. Gabe hugged her back and closed his eyes for a moment.

Unconditional love. Deb could barely remember the feeling.

“I wanted to come last night, but John made me wait.” She glared at the man to her side, then stepped back, looked Gabe over, then hugged him again. “I swear, the stress of mothering you boys is going to be the death of me. Can’t you all settle down and be accountants or something? Work behind a desk and give me grandchildren to deal with instead of fear for your lives?”

Without hesitation she pulled Deb into a fierce hug. “You were wonderful last night, young lady. Saving that man who stopped breathing. Did you know he has two kids and a pregnant wife? She’d have been lost without him. You did a very good thing. You should be proud.”

Anna touched Deb’s face gently. “You’re a hero.”

Deb’s heart constricted. Not having a mother much of her teen years, this kind of tenderness stunned her. This woman barely knew her and she’d just opened her heart.

A few blinks and Deb cleared her throat. “I’m glad he’s all right. I wasn’t sure when the ambulance took him away what would happen. It was relief when I called last night that he was being released today.”

“You called.” Anna grabbed her hands and squeezed them. “Do you know how rare that kind of caring is? Well I do.”

She looked over at Gabe. “She’s a keeper, Gabriel.”

Anna threaded her arm through Deb’s. “I was a law enforcement officer’s wife for a long time, and now the new man in my life—not to mention my sons—risk their lives every day. That man’s wife lived in dread of the phone call she received yesterday. You made sure she didn’t have to accept that folded flag. That means a great deal to me. I won’t forget it.”

“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”

“Which makes me like you all the more.” Anna grabbed one of Gabe’s hands and squeezed. “This one can’t seem to stay out of trouble. I’m glad you’ve been around to help. You know, I’ve never officially thanked you for getting Gabe to the hospital that night.” A dark cloud fell across Anna’s expression. “We almost lost him that day. Thank you for being there.”

Anna hugged Deb again, and a lonely place inside her cracked open. Her defenses were almost gone. Gabe’s mother had torn them apart and shredded them piece by piece.

Deb had missed this kind of caring since her mother died. She’d had to do the nurturing. For her little sister, and her brothers.

Her father had turned her away.

No one had ever just hugged her like Anna Montgomery.

Deb hardly knew what to say.

“Thank you,” she whispered, just letting Anna hold her, the wall around her heart crumbling to rubble.

Ashley sat in front of the computer monitor, staring at several all-too-familiar algorithms. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

The worst mist
ake she’d ever made, and she was seeing its results. She and Justin hadn’t really been black hats, hacking into computers for crime and profit. They’d been more gray hats. Not quite altruistic in their breach of the NSA’s database, but they hadn’t exactly wanted to bring down the free world, either.

She recognized these algorithms. She knew the back doors and the traps, even though these were a bit more intricate. Cybergeeks had their own signature. She had hers; the NSA security team had theirs.

P.O.E. was the means for the Warden and his cronies to break into the NSA computer system. God knew what else.

It had just become even more important than ever for Justin and Dave to escape. She just prayed they were both on track.

Hoping Niko didn’t notice, she leaned forward and peered down the row of gamers until she saw Justin.

He sat at his station, twisting and turning the game controller in his hands, playing the newest version of P.O.E.

Version
VIII
was a huge leap. Graphics, story, challenges. And now, Ashley knew, once a player reached Level 88, the downloaded bonus game would provide a way for black hats to root through national security systems. All on the skills of those who had a gift for numbers and encryption.