Chapter 61
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
C as crouched behind a white panel van that was covered with a blue tarp and watched Pedro raise his head and look toward the open hangar doors at the exact moment Delilah checked inside.
His heart stopped in his chest as Pedro started walking toward her, firing in quick succession before she even had time to raise her weapon.
Sonofabitch.
Cas squeezed off two shots, hitting center mass and ran forward as the man fell, ballerina-like, to the concrete floor. His gun fell from his hand and Cas kicked it away as he pulled a zip tie from his pocket, rolled the guy onto his front to secure his wrists together behind his back. Then he rolled him so he could see his face.
“Delilah!” Was she injured?
He heard footsteps as she ran across the open space, and he released a sigh of relief.
The man who’d been held at gunpoint came toward them. “He wanted me to fly him somewhere, and he was in a hell of a rush to get going. I didn’t have anything to do with this. He shot Malcolm up in the control tower and grabbed me when I said I was a pilot.” The guy looked terrified. “I think he’s dead. Malcolm. Helluva nice guy. Shot for no good reason except that asshole over there wanted to kill someone.”
And didn’t want any witnesses to tell the tale. Cas called 911 and requested ambulances on site.
“I appreciate that, sir,” Delilah spoke quietly but firmly. She didn’t lower her weapon. “We’re with the FBI. Right now, I need you to lie face down on the floor and I will secure you for your own safety until we can verify your story. Was there anyone else with this man?”
“I only saw him.”
Cas saw disappointment cross her features.
He held up another zip tie, and Delilah took it and went over to secure the confused-looking guy who was staring up at them both with huge, fearful eyes.
It was always best to contain witnesses because sometimes they turned out to be bad guys pretending to be witnesses. Cas was pretty sure after what he’d seen that this guy was genuine, but why take a risk?
Pedro wheezed, struggling for breath. His black eyes slitted then opened wide. “Ricky.” He sounded happy to see him. “Long time no see, compadre . This is a surprise, no?”
Cas shook his head. “Why the fuck didn’t you get out while you had the chance?”
Pedro’s lips twisted. “Get out? How the hell would I get out? Where would I go? I went home to my family, and Felipe figured the cartel could use a man who was already dead. So they did.”
“How did you survive?” All the culpability Cas had felt over the death of this man rose up in his mind. Years of guilt and self-recrimination.
“Ha. I didn’t. The cops shot us without warning. We never had a chance. A little like you just did to me.” Pedro looked down at the holes in his chest.
“You opened fire first.”
Cas looked up at Delilah. Blood streaked one side of her head and ran down her neck. The realization that she’d come so close to death made him want to throw up.
“You survived.”
“ La poli believed I was dead.” He coughed violently. “Took me to the morgue without even making sure. So many of us piled up on gurneys like trash.” He laughed and blood bubbled between his lips. “It was funny—except for the fact all my friends were dead. When the workers left that night, I slipped out from the sheet they’d covered me with and stood there like a ghoul all covered in blood. I shook everyone to try to wake them up, but”—he pulled a face suppressing pain and emotion—“I was the only one alive. All the others were dead. I was really happy you weren’t there too until I realized you were the one who betrayed us.”
Pedro’s black eyes burned with hatred. “I washed up, grabbed a lab coat, and walked out like I belonged.”
He coughed and then let out another groan of pain.
“Your sister.” The woman whose eyes had tugged on his memory. “She visited Scanlon in prison.” She must have used a false identity.
Pedro’s eyes turned hard. “Don’t go blaming my sister for anything. She was told to pass messages, that’s all.”
“For you?”
“No one else cared about what you did. Only me. And the Cajun.”
“So it’s gonna be your fault when she goes to prison.” Cas wasn’t feeling very forgiving. Not with Delilah’s blood dripping on to the concrete floor.
“Cas,” Delilah interrupted and jerked her head toward the white Honda. “I’m going to open the trunk.”
Pedro smiled. “Great to see you and Lacey back together. Ricky and Lacey. True love never dies.”
Delilah started walking toward the Honda.
Pedro’s smile grew wider. “I didn’t hurt them. I was raised to respect my elders. They’re fine. ”
Cas glanced toward the white panel van hidden under the tarp and a prickle of apprehension ran down his spine.
“Delilah. Stop.”
Her fingers were on the catch.
“Goddammit, I said stop!”
She jerked back in surprise. “My parents might be in there.”
Cas ran toward her and then carefully placed his ear to the cold metal of the Honda. “I think that’s the van from the bombing the other day.” He pointed to the corner of the hangar. “We need the bomb squad before we can open the trunk. I’m sorry.”
Her whole face fell in denial, and she looked like she wanted to open it anyway.
The sound of sirens filled the air.
Pedro started laughing. “Too late. I’m so happy we’re all together at the end.”
Cas glanced at Pedro and then back at the rental car.
Shit.
“Run!” He yelled at Delilah and then grabbed the pilot off the floor and helped him stagger to the open door of the hangar. For the second time that week, the blast wave blew him off his feet.
As Delilah threw herself around the corner of the hangar door, the heat of the blast flashed across her, searing exposed skin.
She lay on the ground, winded and destroyed.
“No. No.” The thought of her parents dying in such a horrific fashion… Her father, who’d served his country with long years of dedication, had deserved to be cared for in his hour of need. And her mom, her beautiful mom, who’d spent a lifetime arranging her life to the beat of his career. Who’d adored her role as wife and mother but had deserved so much more.
Delilah rolled onto her back and found Cas lying beside her. She shook him violently, terrified he was seriously injured before she remembered herself. She staggered to her knees and touched him gently.
The pilot sat up, dazed on the tarmac.
Cas shook himself and groaned as he reared up on his hands and knees. The flames had died down almost immediately, but thick smoke clogged the air. “That’s getting old fast. Stay here.”
“Careful,” the pilot warned. “It’s a miracle the av-gas didn’t go up already.”
The truck came careening around the corner. Yael screeched to a halt in front of them and lowered the window. “Are you okay?”
Delilah staggered to her feet. “I have to go see if my parents survived.”
Cas’s expression was incredulous. “Dammit, Delilah.”
“I have to know.”
She took a step toward the hangar, but he jerked her back.
“This is my op, remember. I call the shots, and you are not having that image in your head. Not ever.” He ran to the side of the truck and thumped on the window to get Yael to unlock the door. He dragged out a bag and unzipped it and was suddenly climbing into a fire-retardant suit complete with a respirator.
Cop patrol vehicles were fast approaching.
“Talk to the cops and the fire department. Tell them this is an FBI-controlled scene. I’ll be in and out in under a minute.”
Before Delilah could argue, he was gone. All she could think was she didn’t want to lose him too.
Cas ran into the smoke-filled hangar grateful to see that the explosion had been so fierce it had almost put itself out. But flames lingered around the building. Pedro was on fire, and Cas looked away from the gruesome sight of the obviously dead man. He tried to shut off his emotions as he braved the heat, grateful for the suit, forcing himself toward the open trunk of the still burning white Honda .
He got close enough to look inside, sweat running down his forehead and dripping into his eyes.
It was empty.
Relief hit him, followed by despair. Had Pedro killed them and dumped them already? Were they on the plane which was now starting to smolder?
He started that way when a weird banging vibration penetrated his pummelled eardrums and the respirator he wore.
He paused and looked around in confusion.
Shit.
He felt it again.
Where was it coming from?
The small plane was starting to burn, and Cas didn’t like the proximity to the gas tank that sat in the far corner of the hangar.
Bang, bang, bang.
He whirled around. Worked his way to the white van. Touched the sides which vibrated as someone pounded on the inside.
He ripped away the flaming tarp. He didn’t have a lot of time because the fire was heading inexorably toward the flammable fuel, so he ran around to the passenger side door and tried the handle. It was unlocked so he eased it open a quarter of an inch to peer inside, looking for wires of yet another bomb. He couldn’t see anything and decided to risk it, saying a little prayer as he opened the door wide and checked inside.
Keys were in the ignition.
Delilah’s parents lay trussed up in the back of the van like a couple of Sunday roasts. He climbed over the seat and ripped the duct tape off their mouths not that it would help much given the noxious fumes filling the air, but they both took deep breaths as if to draw in enough oxygen.
He spoke over their words of gratitude. “Do you know if there was a bomb planted in this vehicle?” He scanned the area for out of place wires or something that could hide explosives.
“I didn’t see him plant a bomb, but he could have done something before he moved us out of the trunk,” Esme told him worriedly. “He was a creepy little man who grabbed us.” Her brows met. “He told us he had Delilah and he was taking us to her. Then he knocked poor Stephen out when he tried to jump him.”
The former Assistant Director began, “I’ll see you in prison for this?—”
“Quiet, Stephen,” Esme scolded the man who looked almost comically surprised. But it wasn’t funny.
“He took a black sports bag out of here which he was very careful with,” she said thoughtfully. “We were here for long enough that Stephen fell asleep—until the gunshots woke him. Is Delilah okay?”
Cas nodded but there was no time to chat. “Hold on tight if you can. We have to get out of here.” The fire had grown and was now licking the tank of highly flammable aviation fuel. Shit . He climbed in the front seat and turned the key, praying it wasn’t rigged. The engine rolled over.
It was impossible to leave the same way he’d come in because the small plane was now fully engulfed in flames and blocked the way. He reversed to give himself as big a run as possible. Cas built the revs, then aimed for a spot along the back wall and gunned it, just as the fuel ignited.