Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Kyle grabbed the mic. “Jack, you there?” He pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator.
“Ten-four, I’m here.”
“We picked up a tail.”
Cursing crackled on the speaker. “How did that happen?”
“No idea.” That was a question that had to be answered, one that would have to wait for another time.
This was exactly why he hadn’t wanted Victoria anywhere near this trial.
The idea of her getting hurt was painful enough to give him an instantaneous ulcer.
“We’re on the Turnpike a few minutes south of the Pulaski Skyway.
Get with the state troopers and get them to pull the vehicle over. Deke, can you describe it?”
“Dark sedan is all I can tell you,” Deke said. “Maybe a Caddy.”
“You got it,” Jack said.
“There might be another vehicle,” Kyle added. Because that’s what he’d do if he wanted to lay a trap and take out a witness. He’d have another car stationed somewhere along the assumed route they’d take to get back into the city.
"You called it,” Tommy Gifford, the U.S. Marshal riding shotgun, said, unholstering his sidearm. “There’s a car in the middle lane zigzagging like a lunatic. Looks like he’s trying to catch up to us.”
Up ahead, brake lights came on. Cars were bunching up tighter the closer they got to the Skyway exit. Even if he hit the lights and sirens now, it would take time for all those vehicles to clear the lane.
When Tommy started rolling down the window, Kyle pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator.
In the rearview, he caught the look of abject fear in Alyona’s face.
Victoria had draped her arm over the woman’s shoulder.
Victoria’s face was tense, her worried eyes meeting his.
Alyona was a wreck, but Victoria was holding up like a trained Navy SEAL.
He’d thought about her all weekend, cursing himself for ever agreeing to her demands, and now this. If only he’d—
A pop came from outside, followed by a metallic clunk on the front passenger door.
Tommy grunted. “I’ve been hit!”
Gripping the wheel with one hand, Kyle grabbed the mic with his other. “Deke!”
The rear windshield shattered.
Alyona screamed.
“Everyone, get down!” He jerked the wheel to the left, gunning the Explorer onto the shoulder and passing the car in the left lane.
The sign for the Pulaski Skyway loomed ahead.
He couldn’t exactly stop on the side of the highway with a protected witness and shoot it out.
The troopers would never get here in time.
He clicked the mic. “Jack, we’re taking gunfire. Tommy’s been hit.”
Tommy gripped his thigh, leaning down below the level of the window as much as possible. “I’m okay,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t worry about me.”
A quick glance in the rearview told him Deke was tight behind him. Manny Vazquez, the other Marshal with Deke, had rolled down his window. He could see Vazquez’s sidearm aimed at the Caddy behind them. A loud pop came as Vazquez fired. The Caddy swerved but stayed with them.
“How you doing, Tommy?” He glanced at the deputy, who’d wrapped both hands around his bleeding thigh. “Can you make it to the courthouse?”
“Yeah.” He hissed in a breath. “Stings, but I’m good.”
“Here!” Victoria leaned between the front seats to hand something to Tommy.
“Get down!” Kyle snapped over his shoulder. “What part about doing what I tell you to did you not understand?”
Ignoring him, she continued waving something—her scarf?—at Tommy. “Tie this around your leg to stem the bleeding.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tommy took the scarf and quickly wrapped it around his thigh.
Kyle flicked his gaze alternately from the road to the rearview until he was satisfied Victoria’s head no longer presented a target.
In that moment, he was torn between admiring her quick thinking and coming to someone’s aid in the middle of a dangerous crisis, and wanting to throttle her for doing it.
He clicked the mic. “Change of plans. Call ahead to the Port Authority PD at the Holland Tunnel. Tell them to shut down the tunnel and clear us a lane. We’re coming in hot!”
“Copy that,” Jack said. “I’ll have medics here for Tommy.”
Kyle flipped the switches to activate the red-and-blue strobes and siren. Behind him, Deke did the same. “Everyone okay back there?” For a moment, no one answered. Kyle’s next breath froze in his throat. If Victoria had been hit…
“We’re fine,” she called out. She’d taken his directive to heart. He couldn’t see hers or Alyona’s heads above the level of the front seats.
He blew out a breath. Victoria had experienced so much violence in her life. This was the last thing she needed. His brothers had accused him of having a death wish. Death wish aside, he’d gladly take a bullet for Victoria and Alyona Kolbayev, if that’s what it took to keep them safe.
The black Honda had managed to maneuver beside them again.
Three men inside. The vehicle’s rear window rolled down.
Kyle braced for another round of gunfire when he heard a loud crash.
The Honda leaped forward, its front bumper hitting the pavement and the rear end practically going vertical.
If the situation weren’t so dire, Kyle would have laughed outright.
Deke had slammed his Explorer into the Honda from behind, lifting the rear of the other vehicle completely off the ground. Little brother was earning his salary today, that was for sure. He couldn’t tell if Deke’s vehicle was incapacitated.
Fifty feet behind them, more red-and-blue lights lit the darkness. God bless the New Jersey State Troopers.
“Deke, you still with me?” Kyle said into the mic as he punched it up the ramp for the Skyway.
“We’re with you.”
Kyle sped east on the Skyway. The closer they got to the tunnel, the more traffic slowed. He hit the air horn, clearing the left lane. Shutting down the tunnel would only exacerbate the jam-up, but it was the safest course of action. He couldn’t take a chance getting stuck in the tunnel merge.
If the PD didn’t come through in time and there were more armed men lying in wait along their route, they’d all get blasted to kingdom come.
He prayed he’d made the right call on this one.
There’d been another time in his life when he’d made a bad call—the worst decision of his life.
Because of it, his wife had died. No matter how this ended, he’d protect Victoria and Alyona with his last breath.
Using the air horn, he kept clearing the lane in front of him, but it was slow going. He glimpsed Victoria in the rearview. He didn’t think he could survive losing another important person in his life. Since the day they’d met, that’s what she’d been to him. Important.
Up ahead, the leftmost lane heading downhill to the tunnel had been cleared. Port Authority PD cars had blocked off all the intersections. Uniformed officers holding bright flashlights waved them through. Kyle repeatedly hit the air horn, warning drivers not to jump out in front of them.
The one lane the Port Authority had cleared led directly to the tunnel. They were twenty feet from the entrance when a silver Porsche began edging into the open lane. He really didn’t have time for this. Rather than slow down, Kyle hit the gas, catching the Porsche on the front left side.
Alyona screamed again.
The blow hit the Porsche hard enough to shove the sports car back into the lane it had been in. Along with a crushed side panel. Served the driver right for disobeying the PD.
Being the only two vehicles in the citybound tube of the Holland Tunnel, Kyle punched it up to seventy. Lights on the tunnel walls blurred into a straight line.
He flicked his eyes to the rearview, verifying no one was behind them except for Deke.
He could just make out Victoria’s face in the mirror.
Her lips were compressed, her arm still wrapped securely around Alyona’s shoulder.
Aly’s body shook with sobs, and tears streamed down her face.
He suspected Victoria was the only thing keeping his star witness from completely losing it.
Kyle blasted from the tunnel, slowing as he entered the traffic circle and took the downtown exit.
He grabbed the mic. “Jack, we’re five minutes out.
” He wove his way onto Varick then Worth Street, hitting the air horn as they blew through several red lights.
A minute later, they passed 26 Federal Plaza and the many city and state buildings in the Foley Square part of downtown.
“One minute out,” he said into the mic.
“We’re ready for you,” Jack said. “The gate’s up.”
The Daniel Patrick Moynihan Courthouse in all its gray twenty-seven-story granite glory loomed ahead.
With its thick concrete pylons, heavy chains, and metal barricades, the sidewalk in front of the famous gold entry doors looked more like a militarized zone.
Uniformed federal police and U.S. Marshals carrying long guns completed the war-like picture.
For a high-threat witness like Alyona Kolbayev, Kyle had prearranged for a secure, non-public access to the courthouse.
After he passed the gold doors, he hung a hard right into a short driveway that led to the courthouse’s underground parking levels.
As promised, the double set of red-and-white metal barricades were already lifted, the rolling metal door to the garage in the upright position.
Jack and two armed deputy marshals stood by the door, waving them in.
The second Deke’s vehicle entered the garage, the rolling metal door clanged shut behind them. An NYFD ambulance waited just inside, paramedics ready to get to work on Tommy Gifford.
Kyle braked to a stop. “Stay inside.”
Victoria gave him a quick nod.
The passenger door was already open, and Jack helped paramedics transfer Tommy to a gurney.
“Go!” Tommy said, lifting his head from the pillow. “I’m good.”
Kyle lowered his window. “Manny, stay with Tommy.”
“Will do,” Manny called out.