Chapter 16
Derek came up behind him as he was about to move forward and put a hand on his arm.
“Stop—we need to let them take her.”
Dane turned to the man and spoke through gritted teeth, with his mic on so everyone could hear.
“They have a bomb.”
In the next moment, while a white-faced Smith stood alongside him, he heard several things simultaneously.
The one sound that stood out most and stretched Dane’s nerves was the scream.
It was Shana playing Lara. There was a chorus of epithets from the various agents inside, and some in Russian from Viktor and Pavel, accompanying the sounds of people scrambling.
A split second later there was gunfire and the front door of the church banged open.
Dane and Smith reflexively fell back against the side of the church out of sight but only for a moment. Dane watched for her and she appeared with two men dragging her and half carrying her with her feet above the ground and her white dress torn and billowing around her.
“You have a bomb expert on site?”
Derek shook his head.
“Cap?” Dane needed to hear what was going on inside.
“I got it. I’m approaching it now. There are two men inside. They’ve grabbed Max and Sal and they’re headed for the back.”
“Defuse the bomb. We’re following Shana.”
“Croft, you follow.”
“I damn well know what to do, Smith.” Croft sounded out of breath, like he’d just come up for air. Dane would bet his left thumb the man had never seen action before.
Dane had been watching as the four men dragged Shana toward the white van. When they got there two men shoved her inside and the other two turned with their guns raised to cover their flank.
“We’re spotted,” Derek said. Dane had his gun raised at the same time as one of the men standing outside the van. As the man in the SWAT gear took aim, Derek took a shot at him. The shot hit him in the chest, knocking him back a step but his gear was too impenetrable for the shot to put him down.
But it slowed him a beat so that Dane could take aim.
Thank you, Derek. As the man took aim again in Dane’s direction, Dane pulled took his shot and watched as the round put a neat hole in his head, dropping him.
The second shooter had been covering the other side of the church, but once he heard the shots he scrambled back and was headed to the car with his gun raised.
The man’s gun was not aimed at Dane and Derek.
It was aimed at the front door of the church.
Dane looked in time to see Toly running down the steps followed closely by Viktor and Pavel, all with their guns raised.
The shooter jumped into the van, shooting while he did. Dane and Derek went to the ground.
Dane hoped to hell the shooter’s aim was off as the van sped away. But when he looked back he saw Toly on the ground and his body guards leaning over him.
“Damn.” Dane moved to go to him. Smith grabbed his arm.
“Never mind him.”
Dane pulled away and ran over there to have a look.
“Where’d they get him?” he asked as he knelt. Toly was awake and looked in pain.
“It’s just my arm—I’ll be fine. You go.”
Dane stood. “I’m gone.”
He ran after Smith to the FBI man’s car and caught him as he turned on the ignition.
“We’ll have to use the tracker on Shana to find them,” Smith said.
He pulled out of the church parking lot and headed in the direction the van had taken.
As they pulled away, Dane looked back at the church to see special agents spilling from the building.
Dane figured about two minutes had elapsed since the men with the bomb showed up.
He hoped to hell Cap had gotten to it. If not, he fully expected to hear the explosion any second.
“Cap?” He spoke into his earbud but he got no response.
“Damn.” Smith muttered.
“What?
“We lost the tracker.”
“This crew is smarter than your average Joe thug. They swiped her. As soon as they saw us with guns they knew they were not a surprise and they had a plan B.”
“Great. So now we’ve lost the damn—”
“I know where they’re going.” Dane was betting Shana’s life that he knew. “Take this left. Smith swerved the car to make the turn. He wasn’t a bad wheelman as FBI men went.
“Where the hell are you taking us and what the hell makes you so sure you know—”
“They’re heading to the heliport at the house Max has rented.”
Smith gave him a look then he turned on his mic and spoke.
“Tavares—you have Xavier and Cannelloni secured?”
There was a tense pause as they waited for the answer.
It would make their job easier, but knowing the feds, they wanted to give Max and Sal more rope to hang themselves good and tight.
Dane only wanted to get Shana back in one piece.
It wouldn’t be long before they discovered she wasn’t Lara Bennett.
If they hadn’t already figured it out. The secret part of their operation was blown.
Now they needed to make the connection between Max and Sal and the kidnappers absolutely foolproof or they’d have no leverage to get Max and Sal to lead them to the terrorist cell they were working with. At least that’s how the feds were thinking.
Dane was thinking he could give two shits about Max and Sal. Their whole operation could go to hell. “Take this right.”
He kept his breathing even and his pulse rate calm. He wanted one thing. To get to Shana before anything bad happened to her.
“How much further? They have a big lead on us. If they take off in a helicopter—”
Dane couldn’t think about what would happen if they took Shana away in a helicopter to parts unknown. He kept his focus. He had to.
“We’re taking a short-cut.”
The calm, detached professionalism of the man holding his gun on her as she lay on the floor of the van unnerved Shana more than his gun did.
She hoped to hell when they stopped and inevitably dragged her from the van that they didn’t pull her by the hair.
Her wig would come off and they’d know she was the wrong girl.
Then all bets would be off as to her dispensability.
She ran through the drill in her head as she forced herself to wear a terrified expression, forced tears to fall to play her part. She would cooperate and give them her arms so that they would have no need to grab the wig off her head.
But as the van screeched to a stop, the frisson of terror that ran through her was no act. She closed her eyes and willed Dane to get there. Now.
“Slow down,” Dane said as they approached the house. He had a glimpse of the white van pulling into a gated drive.
“Some rental. The security is over the top,” Smith said. He parked the car in the driveway of the house next door. Dane approved of the decision. He knew the property and it was currently empty.
“We need to get inside,” Smith said. “Any ideas?”
“We’re ahead of the posse but we need to hurry.
The men who have Shana are professionals so we can’t go in with guns blazing.
My bet is they’ll head straight for the copter.
” Dane opened his door and headed for the back of the property.
He’d studied it on a Google map and knew there was a low fence in the back near the helipad. He hoped it was unmanned.
“Where the hell are you taking us?” Smith scrambled after him as Dane trotted along the perimeter with his gun low.
He put a finger to his lips. He stopped before the gate and the open fencing along the back of the property. The area was heavily wooded. Dane motioned for Smith to take cover. Dane moved forward and took a peek around the wall.
There was no one guarding the property, but it was likely wired.
They could sound all the alarms they wanted, Dane didn’t care as long as it wasn’t hotwired.
He picked up a stick and touched the gate.
Nothing. He motioned for Smith to follow and climbed over the fence in a move he hadn’t made since training exercises in his Chicago SWAT team days.
Smith followed and fired up his mic to call for back up. He gave Tavares the address. “Come in quiet. And fast.”
Once they cleared a stand of trees, Dane saw the helicopter on the landing pad. The white van was parked nearby. The driver was still inside.
“Careful,” Derek said. “We don’t want Shana getting caught in crossfire.”
Dane heard cars coming from the direction of the front gate. They had no time.
The van door slid open then and two men in full gear pulled Shana out. She was still standing and she still wore the wig. They dragged her toward the copter.
“Time to make our move. I get the two men and you take the pilot,” Dane said. “We go in as if we own the place. We have surprise on our side.”
Dane stood and, with Smith at his side, walked toward the helicopter. They approached from the men’s blindside angle. They’d been in a hurry or lost their cautious discipline or were sloppy or felt a false sense of safety, but they hadn’t been watching their backs.
Dane and Smith were within ten feet when Dane raised his weapon and as the man shoved Shana into the helicopter, he fired, hitting the man in the neck. The second man swung around and before he got a shot off, Dane fired, hitting him in the arm and he dropped his weapon.
The van driver opened his window as he pulled away and began shooting. Dane took cover. Smith got off a few shots and the van skewed to the side and stopped.
Dane scrambled to the helicopter and jumped in. Smith had his gun aimed at the pilot’s head. Shana lay across one of the seats in the back.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded. “Get these ties off me.”
“Done. But I have a plan. You’ll need to act like you’re still tied.” He said this as he slipped the ever-present knife from his pocket and cut the ties from her wrists.
Smith looked at him. “We need Xavier and Cannelloni.”
“I’m betting they’re planning to accompany Lara Bennett on this ride,” Dane said. “I heard some cars pulling in the drive so we’ll have to act fast. I’m taking over as pilot.”
Smith hit the pilot across his temple with his gun and they dragged him to the back of the copter.
Then Dane and Smith jumped out of the copter to drag the two bodies to the van.
Tossing the men inside unceremoniously, Dane heard some men coming from the back of the house.
It was a good three hundred yards away. They might still have enough time.
Smith grabbed the outer gear of the dead man and slung it on as they moved fast back to the helicopter.
Dane took the pilot’s place and put on a cap and dark glasses he found in the visor.
“We need to get them in the air,” Smith said. “I’ll be the copilot.”
Dane looked back at Shana and then outside to where Max and Sal trotted toward the copter trailed by three more men dressed to kill.
“We’re not leaving Shana back there alone with these guys. She’ll end up their hostage. You hide in the back behind the seats.”
Smith nodded and moved. Dane hoped to hell Max and Sal weren’t paying too close attention to the body count. He heard gunfire.
“That sounds like it’s coming from the front of the house,” Shana said.
“Good that’ll keep them distracted.”
When Max and Sal got within a few yards, Dane said, “Action everyone.”
Men were running from the back of the house now and Max and Sal’s hired guns were dropping for cover or turning to shoot back.
Dane fired up the rotors as Max and Sal approached the door. Their eyes were on Shana as they scrambled to get inside. The noise prevented conversation, but Max gave the sign for liftoff before he was inside.
Dane gave Shana the nod.
Before Sal closed the door, as Max tried to take his seat, with a magician’s quickness, Shana drew a gun from her ankle holster and whipped Sal across the temple with it.
Smith jumped from the back to grab Sal and haul him to the floor.
Max fell back into his seat and drew his gun, about to aim it at Shana.
Dane saw it all in slow motion inside his head and he coolly assessed the situation as if he were playing a video game and he could freeze each frame for analysis.
He needed to stop Max from effectively taking Shana hostage, but he couldn’t kill him.
The confines of the helicopter made taking a shot too unsafe.
Dane whipped the knife out, the same one he’d used to cut Shana’s ties, and sliced the hand Max used to hold the gun.
Max’s scream split the air and blood spurted as he dropped his gun.
Smith hit Max on the head to quiet him. Apparently that was Smith’s specialty.
Shana ripped a swath off her wedding dress to tie up the gash in Max’s hand.
“It’s not lethal,” she said above the rotor noise.
In the next second a bullet pinged off the rear end of the copter. The gunfight between the feds and the hired SWAT thugs was getting close.
“Let’s get out of here,” Smith yelled as he pulled the door closed.
But Dane had already started throwing switches and pulling the copter off the ground.
Dane wasn’t sure who the hell was taking shots at them—the feds might have assumed they were Max’s men—so he took the copter as high as he could as quickly as he could to avoid bullet damage.
He put on his headset and tossed another back to Smith. As soon as the man put it on he spoke.
“Call your feds off us—they think we’re the bad guys.”
“Already on it.”
Dane pulled away from the house but they were no longer taking fire.
He took a breath and began calming the rush of adrenaline that had saturated his body. He thought of Cap and the others in the church.
“Looks like Cap defused the bomb,” he said into his headset.
Shana leaned forward and hit him on the shoulder.
The feel of her hand, of her presence, sent a shot of warmth through him.
And pride. His girl was alive and she’d been a superstar.
Now she made some hand motions that Dane supposed meant she was looking for another headset so she could be in on the conversation.
He pointed to a compartment and she found it.
“Either that or the church was blown to bits but our people escaped,” Smith said. He’d waited until Shana had her set on before he answered.
Dane said, “Where do you want me to land this bird?”