Seized (Hostage Rescue Team Series, #7) (6 page)

The chances of that meth-head doing him serious damage was unlikely, given Sawyer’s training, but he didn’t say it aloud. She was shaken, no matter how well she was holding it together.

He wanted to put his arm around her and draw her close to comfort her but didn’t dare. Things were too fragile between them now. He had to be careful in how he handled this.

“Because I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he answered.

Her eyes flashed up to his again. “What?”

He drew in a breath, seeking patience. “If he got past me, he could have hurt you. That wasn’t happening.”

Something softened in her gaze. She shook her head and turned her attention back to slowing the bleeding. “Sometimes I think you forget the neighborhood I grew up in. I was ready to kick him in the balls if he came close enough, but thank you. And I’m mad at you for getting sliced up to protect me.”

He hid a smile. Annoyed and talking to him was a million times better than hurt and silent. “How mad? Madder than you already were before the whole parking garage thing?” At least she still wore his necklace. She didn’t hate him so much that she’d gotten rid of it.

“Different kind of mad,” she answered, and he respected that she didn’t dance around it or try to deny that she had a problem with him.

“So I’m really in the doghouse then, huh?” he said after a moment. The hotel was only a few blocks away now.

One side of her mouth quirked up. “Yeah. And you’re making it worse every time you move and bleed more.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and made an effort to stay still for her. Neither of them said anything more for a few minutes. Hell, he couldn’t stand knowing he’d hurt her. He might as well just clear the air once and for all, start a meaningful dialogue between them. “Look, about what happened at the hospital—”

She made a negative sound and shook her head. “Can we not do this right now? You’re bleeding all over the seat and it’s pretty much all I can think about at the moment. Give me at least until after Schroder fixes you up and we talk to the police before you go there.”

Much as he’d rather avoid this conversation altogether, his instinct was not to let this go yet. But she seemed pretty upset about him getting sliced and he didn’t want to make it worse for her. “Okay.”

As long as he knew he had a shot at resolving this mess before the night was over, he could wait a little while longer.

––––––––

C
ops and forensics people were crowded around the damaged SUV in the underground parking lot of their hotel. A flash strobed as someone took a series of pictures of the damage.

Special Agent Adam Blackwell let out a low whistle when he finally saw the mark where the bullet had impacted the rear window of their Bureau-issued SUV. Dead center on the driver’s side. Large caliber, for a pistol. Looked like it might be from a .45. “Holy shit.”

When Vance had told him and Evers that someone had taken a potshot at them at the parking garage downtown, Adam hadn’t expected this. If not for the bullet-resistant glass, Vance might have suffered something far more serious than the gash he was currently having sutured upstairs, which was bad enough.

“Whoa.” Evers stepped closer to get a glimpse of the damage, then circled the back of the vehicle, looking for other marks while staying out of the cops’ way. Adam hadn’t noticed any other bullet holes but he hadn’t given the SUV a thorough once-over because of the officers busy cataloguing the damage and taking samples and pictures as evidence for their investigation. “That’s not what I was picturing when Vance said they’d had a run-in with someone.”

Yeah, me neither.

When one of the forensics guys moved aside for a moment, Adam peered into the open driver’s side door and immediately saw the drying blood streaks on the seat. More blood stained the floor mat in the foot well. Ethan’s sister had told him the worst of the blood was on Vance, but the interior was going to need a deep clean once they took it in.

He stepped back, moving out of the way and pulled out his ID to show the cop coming toward him. Someone else had already checked their ID when they’d come out of the stairwell. The officer checked it again now, looked at him to verify, and nodded. “You guys taking her back to the Bureau when we’re done?” He indicated the SUV with a nod.

“That’s the plan.”

“Almost done here. Shouldn’t be too much longer, just a few minutes.”

“No worries.” Adam looked at Evers. “Wanna grab a coffee or something while we wait?” There was a café around the corner. They could grab something and be back within ten minutes, tops.

“Sure.”

They were partway up the ramp to the exit when a large SUV pulled up at the curb just outside the underground parking.

The Suburban came through the gate, slowed to a stop, then the back door opened. Supervisory Special Agent Matt DeLuca stepped out. He’d no doubt heard about the situation from Vance by now. Adam and Evers stopped and waited for him.

DeLuca walked toward them as two other men Adam didn’t recognize slid out of the vehicle and headed for the stairwell entrance. “What’s up, boys?” he said to him and Evers.

His smile surprised Adam, given that Vance had been sliced up. “Just waiting to run the SUV back,” Adam said.

DeLuca looked confused. “Back? Back where?”

Adam frowned. “To the Seattle office.”

DeLuca frowned too and continued past them, following the other two men up the ramp toward the stairwell entrance. “Meeting tomorrow at oh-seven-hundred. Tell the guys to—” He stopped suddenly, his gaze zeroing in on the crowd of cops surrounding their SUV, now visible from his position on the ramp.

Before Adam could think of what to say, DeLuca swung around and divided a hard look between him and Evers. “What the hell’s this?”

Uh...
Adam scratched his nose. “Guess you didn’t hear about Vance yet then?”

“No.” He started back toward them. “Dammit, he called me during the meeting and I didn’t get around to calling him back yet. What happened?”

“He had a little run-in with some drug dealers earlier tonight after he left the place where we ate,” he said. “And Cruzie’s sister was there too,” he added.

Something was brewing between those two. Adam didn’t know how serious it was, but he knew Vance well enough to know that he wouldn’t fuck around with Cruzie’s sister unless she meant something to him. So if anything romantic or hormonal was going on with them, he doubted it was casual. As far as he knew Vance didn’t have a death wish and had to know Cruzie would kill him if Vance messed around with Carmela just for kicks.

DeLuca was already pulling out his cell. He put the phone to his ear, listened a moment, then his lips thinned and he ended the call. “Voicemail. So is Vance okay?”

“Got his shoulder sliced open.”

DeLuca’s jaw clenched, his gaze turning flat. “Shit. He’s talked to the cops?” He nodded at the vehicle still surrounded by a swarm of cops.

Adam nodded. “A couple of cops were up in our room talking to him when we left.”

He set his hands on his hips. “Where’s Cruzie? He know about it?”

“Yes. He’s at Marisol’s hotel, a couple blocks away.”

“Vance still in the room?” DeLuca demanded impatiently.

“Think so.”

“How bad a slice is it? Did he get checked out?”

“Doc’s treating him right now,” Evers said. “Vance said he didn’t want to waste time sitting in the ER.”

DeLuca swung his gaze on him now, his face darkening like a thundercloud. “For Christ’s sake,” he muttered, jaw tight, then leveled that green gaze on Adam. “How
bad
?” he repeated.

It was like being hit with high-powered lasers. Adam understood why DeLuca was so concerned. Yeah, he was worried about one of his agents being injured, but he also had to be worried it would sideline Vance and they could be called out at any time to go on another mission.

“Nothing too serious,” Adam said quickly, which was technically true. Vance could still use his arm and everything. Couldn’t be too bad. “You can go see them if you want to...” He trailed off, not knowing how to finish.

“Oh, I want to.
Dammit
.” DeLuca muttered and stalked past them toward the stairwell. He took two steps then stopped to look at them over his shoulder. “Tell the SAC at the field office I’ll be in touch shortly. And bring me back a copy of all the paperwork so I can clear up everything with headquarters,” he ordered.

“Roger that.” Once the stairwell door clanged shut, Adam exchanged a loaded look with Evers. “Wouldn’t want to be Vance right now.”

“Nope,” Evers agreed with a grin, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Let’s just hope he’s not benched because of this. We need him.”

It was true. Vance was a great operator, but more than that, he was an integral member of their team. The reason why they were so good at what they did was because of the guys and the countless hours they put into training and keeping their skills sharp as possible. They knew each other inside and out, could read each other and anticipate each other’s moves on an op. Losing Vance now would be a big blow to the team.

“Should we warn him?” He reached into his jeans pocket for his cell.

Evers waved away his concern. “Nah, him and Doc’ll probably both have their hands too full to answer anyway.”

“I feel bad for the guy.” DeLuca was a fair boss, but he bore the responsibility of making the tough calls. If he thought Vance wasn’t physically able to perform his duties, he’d pull him without hesitation. Vance would hate that. Hell, any of them would.

“Agent Blackwell?”

Adam turned at the male voice behind him. The lead investigator was walking down the ramp toward them, stripping off his gloves as he approached. “We’re all done here. We’ll send a copy of our report to local headquarters, and one to Agent Vance as well.”

“Sounds good, thanks.”

The cop handed Adam the keys. “She’s all yours. You guys have a good night.”

“You too,” Adam replied, and walked back up the ramp to the SUV.

Agents at the Seattle office would issue them a new ride and start the process of their own report, then get the damaged SUV fixed and cleaned. The paperwork for the new vehicle was already in the works. But he sure as hell wasn’t sitting on that seat without putting something down first.

He fished through the glove compartment and came up with a folded map. After spreading it across the seat he started to slide his phone into the cup holder, but it rang in his hand. The name on the display froze him for a moment. Dread and hope twined inside him, a squeezing pressure he’d become all too familiar with over the past few months.

He glanced at Evers, careful to keep his expression neutral. “I should probably take this.”

“Yeah, sure, go ahead.”

Adam climbed out of the SUV and went into the privacy of the stairwell DeLuca had just gone up before answering, trying to ignore the way his heart thumped against his sternum. This could be good news or it could be the news he’d been dreading for a while now. “Hey.”

“Hi.” His wife’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No, it’s fine.” He shifted the phone to his other hand, his wedding band glinting in the bright halogen lighting overhead. Every time he looked at it he felt a kind of numbness. And there was no avoiding the truth anymore.

His marriage was on life support, being kept alive with a metaphorical ventilator. Had been for a while now, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He’d even agreed to try counseling in a last ditch effort to salvage everything, but the results had been lukewarm at best and they’d both been relieved when they’d stopped going two months ago.

Summer was so distant now, pretty much a stranger to him at this point. As he was to her. The distance between them had expanded to the point where neither of them had the first freaking clue how to bridge the gap anymore. “Are you back on the East Coast?”

“Flew in from Karachi earlier tonight.”

He frowned. She’d be exhausted after that long flight, and yet here she was calling him in the middle of the night. “It’s one in the morning there. Everything okay?” His hand tightened around the phone as he braced himself for the words he’d been preparing himself for.

It’s over, Adam. I’m sorry.

“Yeah, everything’s good. I was just... I was in meetings and briefings all day about the situation out there on the West Coast. You’ve been on my mind all day and I wanted to check and make sure you were all right.”

Surprise and relief crashed through him. So she wasn’t leaving him then. Wasn’t filing for separation. Even more astounding, she’d reached out because she’d been worried about him.

It had to mean something. Had to.

Adam closed his eyes, his chest expanding on a painful breath. He’d never known hope could be so painful until his marriage had begun to unravel.

In spite of everything, he knew she still loved him. That was the hell of it. They both still loved each other. Maybe they weren’t
in love
anymore, but somehow that critical foundation, no matter how rocky and unstable it had become, was still holding.

He just didn’t know if that was enough to save their marriage.

Adam considered his words before answering. As a veteran Defense Intelligence Agency officer, Summer knew exactly how severe the looming terror threat was that they were trying to thwart. “I’m okay, doll.”

A beat of silence passed and he could tell he’d surprised her by using the endearment. But fuck it. She’d extended the olive branch by making this call. He was sick of this. Done with always holding himself in check around her, afraid of being hurt or rejected. Tired of the walls they’d built between them, fed up with the emotional divide that kept them apart.

He was a fighter by nature. He was good at it too, good enough that he’d even made a career out of it. And in a fight he never quit.

In that moment he came to a decision. He couldn’t speak for Summer, but he wasn’t giving up on them without a fight. As soon as he got home after this situation on the coast was over with, he was taking one last shot at saving their marriage.