Silenced (36 page)

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Authors: Allison Brennan

Tags: #Thrillers, #Fiction

BOOK: Silenced
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Even though Ivy looked her in the eye, Lucy knew she was lying. It was the calm certainty while highly agitated that gave Lucy the clue.

She was protecting someone. Why?

“That person could be responsible for all this.”

“He’s not. I would recognize him if I saw him, and he’s neither Dumb nor Dumber.”

Kate jumped back in the car. “I told Slater we have a valid entry point via the southwest corner, kitty-corner to the church. We can get to the roof without being seen. But we need floor plans.”

“I know the place,” Ivy said.

“You’re staying here.”

“They want
me
.”

Kate handed her a notepad and pencil. “Draw what you know.”

Ivy’s cell phone rang.

Kate said, “Tell him you’re almost here. Five minutes.”

“He won’t wait any longer!”

“Give him a location five or six blocks away. Indicate you’re on foot. Lucy, listen in.”

Ivy answered; Lucy put her ear to the phone and Ivy held it so they could both hear. “I’m on my way!”

“It’s been twelve minutes. By now, I should have killed two of the kids.”

“Don’t! I’m coming as fast as I can. I want to talk to Mina.”

Kate nodded her approval.

“I already let you talk to her.”

“How do I know you didn’t shoot her after you hung up?”

“You don’t. Start running. I’m giving you two more minutes. That’s it. Come through the chain gate; I left it propped open for you.”

He hung up.

Ivy screamed out her frustration.

Kate said over her headset, “Slater?”

“I heard. Get me some intel I can use. Do you think he’ll really start shooting? What do you know about this guy?”

Kate looked at Lucy, and Lucy said, “He’s smart, but impulsive. His entire mission—and he considers it a mission—is to kill Ivy. If she walks in, he’ll shoot her immediately. He doesn’t want to hear excuses or explanations. I don’t know if he’ll kill anyone else, but he’s capable. He will not hesitate. He’s already made the decision.”

Ivy tried to open the door, but it was locked. She hit the handle. “I don’t want anyone else to die because of me.”

“No one’s going to die,” Kate said, but Lucy saw concern in her rigid expression.

Slater and his SWAT team drove up. Slater gave them orders, and a pair went into the building Kate had identified as having visual of the church grounds.

He approached Kate’s car. “Armstrong’s ETA is four minutes,” he said.

“We don’t have time to wait,” Kate said.

Slater looked at Lucy. “We need to buy time.”

“How?”

Slater glanced at Lucy. “Kincaid, you and Ivy are roughly the same height and build. You don’t have to do this, but—”

“Yes,” she said before he finished.

“Luce—” Kate stopped. “Shit, shit, shit. Okay, you two go to the van and swap clothes. You’re wearing a vest, Lucy. Don’t argue. Hat, glasses, don’t go in. This is for
show,
to expose the shooter.”

“There’s no time,” Ivy said. “He’s calling again.”

Lucy grabbed the phone from Ivy as she started taking off her clothes, motioning for Ivy to do the same.

“I’m here,” she said, panting to mask the difference in their voices. “I’m coming. Around the corner. I ran. Whole way. Please, please. Let me talk to Mina.”

“Finally, some fear. It’s about fucking time, Poison Ivy. Mina, say hi to your girlfriend.”

“Ivy, don’t, he’ll kill—”

The suspect came back on the line. “But you already knew that, right?”

“I’m not coming in until Mina is safe.”

He laughed. “You’re in no position to negotiate. Tick, tock. I don’t see you.”

Slater helped Lucy with the bulletproof vest. It wouldn’t stop a headshot, and they both knew it. But unless the guy was a trained sniper, he would most likely go for the widest target, her chest.

“I want to see Mina before I come in.”

“She’ll come to the fence. That’s it. You come in, then we’ll talk. Ten. Nine. Eight.” He hung up.

Lucy pulled on a torn, greasy sweatshirt to hide the vest. The SWAT guys had been using it as a rag and it reeked of oil. She messed up her hair, then put it in a loose ponytail and grabbed a baseball cap that Slater had in the back. He hooked up her earpiece.

“Count to ten,” Slater said. “My men aren’t in place yet.”

“What’s the plan?” she said.

“First clear shot.”

Noah drove up as Lucy was finished. He ran over to Slater and Kate. “I told you not to put her in!”

“I outrank you, Armstrong,” Slater said. “There are children inside. We have two men on that roof,” he pointed, “and two more in position across the street.”

Lucy squeezed Noah’s hand. “I’m going to be fine.”

She crossed the street so she’d be opposite the church. It would buy her both time and cover since the east side of the street was shaded in the morning.

She looked all around the small church. She couldn’t see the snipers, but she didn’t expect to—they were good. She trusted Slater and the SWAT team.

No one was coming out of the church. Something looked off. The windows. They were clouded.

She ran across the street, but stayed as best she could behind a tree to avoid the line of fire.

Slater said in her earpiece, “We have full coverage once he steps out of the building, either entrance.”

She nodded, not wanting to talk.

The gate leading into the courtyard and play area had been propped open with a rake.

“Mina!” she called, then said quietly for Slater, “Something’s wrong.”

She stepped away from the tree and toward the gate. “Mina!”

“Get back,” Slater said in her earpiece.

“Dammit, you promised to let her go, you fucking bastard!” Lucy shouted. The heat of the morning plus her adrenaline had her sweating and red-faced, so she really did look like she had been running. She had listened to Ivy long enough to mimic her well.

Then she smelled smoke.

At the same time, Lucy had the overwhelming sensation of being watched. Ever since her attack seven years ago, she was acutely aware of eyes on her. It was mostly a curse, but times like this it was a gift.

“He’s on the street,” she whispered and turned to the right, the tree only half obscuring her.

A dark-haired man had a gun on her. “Hey, Poison Ivy—You really are stupid.” He frowned. “Who the fuck are you?“

He made a move for her, and over the bullhorn came, “FBI! Put down your weapon and put your hands on the back of your head.”

The man looked around, then made a move to grab Lucy. She sidestepped him. He crumpled to the sidewalk at the same time Lucy heard the report of a high-powered rifle.

She went over and kicked his gun away, then ran into the courtyard. “Fire in the church!” she shouted.

Smoke was billowing out from cracks in the windows and doors. She ran to the main entrance and pulled; the doors were locked. She ran through the security gate and tried the side door; locked. She pounded on it. “Open the door!”

Noah was at her side a moment later. “The fire department is already on their way.”

“There are kids in there!” she shouted.

Matt Slater came up with a battering ram. He and Noah rammed into the side door, splintering the wood. Smoke poured out; now Lucy could hear the flames.

“Stay low!” Noah ordered.

There was no fire in the church proper, just a lot of smoke. Noah motioned that the school was in the back.

Slater grabbed a fire extinguisher from one of his men and entered the building. Three more of the SWAT team entered, all with guns. They didn’t know if the second man was in the building or not, but assumed there was still a hostage situation.

Lucy followed Noah into the smoke-filled room and stifled a cry.

Six children and two adults had been duct-taped to their chairs.

Noah picked up two kids, with their chairs strapped to them, and carried them out as quickly as he could. Lucy followed his lead, grabbed the closest child, and followed Noah out.

Visibility was nonexistent. Her eyes burned, her throat was raw, she couldn’t stop coughing.

The little boy in her arms was unconscious.

She made it outside, collapsed in the playground, and pulled at the tape.

Each SWAT member ran in and brought out the remaining children and adults, one by one.

Lucy began to give mouth-to-mouth resuscitation to the little boy.

“Come on,” she willed him, listening for breathing, but the sound of the fire drowned it out.

Not these kids. God, please, haven’t enough people died?

She repeated the cycle and waited a beat.

He began to cough.

She cried tearlessly.

Matt Slater ran out the back carrying a teenage girl. “She’s alive, but she’s been shot in the back. We can’t find anyone else in the building. We’re pulling out.” He said into his headset, “Ambulance?”

“Three minutes,” one of his men said. He shook his head and carried her to the street just as the fire trucks pulled up.

“We need a medic STAT!” Slater called. “Female victim, shot twice in the back. Difficulty breathing. In and out of consciousness.”

The scene was organized chaos. Lucy watched as everyone did their job quickly and efficiently. Kate escorted Ivy to see Mina. A SWAT medic was applying pressure to her wounds. Ivy cried and held her hand. Kate stood there, stoic, watching the scene around her, both participant and observer.

Lucy sat with the little boy, who clung to her like a life vest. She hugged him back.

“God saved us,” the four-year-old said.

“Yes He did,” Lucy said. “With a little help from SWAT.”

He looked up at her with his dark face and darker eyes. “I want to be a SWAT.”

She smiled through her tears. “You will be.”

She saw Noah through the crowd. He came to her, knelt in front of her. He was coughing, filthy, and his hands had first-degree burns. He hugged her spontaneously, the child cradled between them.

“You okay?” He inspected her for injury, though Lucy assured him she was fine.

“How did you know where he was? No one had the visual until he approached you,” Noah asked.

“I felt him watching me.”

He hugged her again. “Good job, Lucy.”

A tall black woman was sitting nearby and consoling the children. “Where is he? Did you find him?”

Noah said, “He didn’t survive.”

“What about his partner?”

Noah tensed. “There were two?”

“One inside and one outside.”

Noah got Slater on the phone. “We have another suspect, and he’s on foot.”

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Devon Sullivan didn’t leave until after eight that morning. As soon as her Mercedes drove out of sight, Sean pulled out of the parking lot and turned down the private street.

He monitored the end of every driveway without slowing below twenty-five miles per hour, to avoid drawing attention from residents or any household staff. Not every owner had security along their fence, but the Jager/Sullivan house did. A quick assessment told Sean there were cameras at the end of the driveway and each corner of the property. He recognized the manufacturer and smiled.

“They’re all digital. But the system has a glitch,” Sean explained to Sergio. “It won’t take me more than a minute to freeze all the cameras. If someone is monitoring them, they’ll see a picture, but unless they’re looking carefully—or if someone gets captured on the film and is shown motionless—no one should notice anything different.”

He parked his Mustang in the camera’s blind spot and took out his backup laptop. He opened it up and found the signal from the security feed. “This is even better. I can get into the main system and access every camera in the house to see if there is staff. Once we’re inside we’ll be blind, though—the cameras will be frozen.”

“Won’t they know someone was here?”

“They will if we find the locket. But the security system is designed to photograph as well as provide a video feed. It’s full of problems. What I’m forcing it to do is take a picture throughout the system and freeze—even the security company that installed it will say it’s just a glitch.”

“Why would they put in an inferior system?”

“Ninety percent of security systems can be neutralized in less than three minutes.” Sean grabbed the main feed and scrolled through each camera. “Three here in the front, over each entrance, inside the pool house, seven in the back—they think they’re vulnerable from the rear. Or they don’t trust their neighbors,” Sean joked.

“You enjoy this.”

“I like my job.” He glanced at Sergio. “I don’t like who I’m working for.”

“Jonathon saved my life.”

“Save it. I know the story. And I am sorry about your daughter. Truly. But Paxton thinks he’s God, and he’s playing with the lives of people I care about. And he’s lying to me, I just haven’t figured out what, or why.”

Sergio didn’t say anything, which was good because Sean was growing irritated remembering his conversation with Paxton the night before. Remembering that Paxton had a copy of Lucy’s confidential FBI file. Who had given it to him?

“No internal cameras. I’m searching the grounds and I don’t see vehicles that aren’t registered to the house. Okay, I’m going to freeze the cameras, then I’m going in. Alone. Take my car and go back to where we parked before. I want to know if anyone turns down this street—make and model of their car. If they are feds.
Anything.
Text me. When I’m ready,” he pulled out the satellite map of the property, “go down this parallel street. These horse lovers that the Jagers don’t trust have no security cameras. Park at the end of their driveway.”

He handed Sergio his keys. “And be careful with my car.”

*   *   *

When the ambulance arrived, Lucy handed the little boy off to one of the DC cops who’d arrived on scene. She joined Kate and Ivy, who were with Mina as she was being strapped onto the gurney. Only seven minutes had passed since Slater carried her from the church.

Ivy wiped away her tears. Soot covered her face from the smoke, though the fire was under control.

“You’re going to be okay, Mina,” Ivy said. “I promise. I need you, Mina. I need you just like I need Sara.”

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