Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
COLE
Simona’s shoulders are tight. She leans back from the laptop she has perched on the hotel room desk. “You are going to want to sit down to watch this.”
“No.”
The last thing I want to do is sit down. I’m tight as a banjo string.
All this waiting is ripping me to shreds. Sierra’s been gone for hours, and we’re sitting around waiting.
I lean over her shoulder. She huffs at me. Points at the chair, and in her Czech accent, she says, “Sit down, Cole. Daylight is burning.”
I growl and pull the chair out next to her.
She presses the play button. The knot in my gut turns to a mass of broken glass. Two shadowy figures, dressed in black, enter the front of Sierra’s building at 4:16 am.
Both are big men, broad shouldered, lean hips, strong thighs. They walk casually, but like lethal animals on the hunt. I know men like this.
Trained killers.
I rasp out, “Jesus. Who are those bastards?”
“We’re working on that.”
My fists clench until my knuckles ache. “I’m going to throw up if I have to watch them drag Sierra out of that building.”
With her eyes fixed on the screen, Simona reaches out and pats my arm. “Take a breath. They don’t. Watch carefully.”
She taps her finger on the right side of the screen. “Watch here. See that shadow. I think that’s your girl climbing down the lattice-work on the side of the entrance.”
Heaven help me. I need a defibrillator. My heart’s spasming so wildly in my chest.
Sierra had to climb down from the roof to get away from the two men who broke into her apartment during the night.
Rage and terror war inside of me. For several minutes, there’s nothing else on the cam.
Then, I see the shadow.
My throat aches. “Holy hell. It could be her.”
At 4:34, car alarms sound in the background. At 4:36, the two men emerge, talking and looking like they are just going out to catch a beer together.
“Is that it?”
“Nope. Hold tight, cowboy.”
I can’t hold tight. I’ve just watched two men walk out of the apartment of the woman I love and they might have done something horrible to her.
The clock on the video reads 5:03 when Sierra’s unmistakable figure appears on the camera running from the parking lot toward her apartment.
I growl. “Goddamn, what’s she doing?”
Her petite body’s covered in a t-shirt and calf-length tights and her feet are bare. Without stopping, she runs through the front door and up the stairs and disappears from the camera’s view.
I’m officially snorting like an angry bull. “Oh god. What the hell? She did not go back in there.”
Simona raises her brows. “She did. I know. I was terrified for her while I watched this, but they didn’t come back. Keep watching.”
One hundred and twenty seconds later, Sierra bursts out the front door of the building. Her backpack is over her shoulder. She glances at the camera. Her face is pale. The fear in her body is palpable.
Simona cuts the video off. “That’s it.” She grabs onto my forearm with surprising strength. “She got away.”
I exhale a huge breath. “Jesus. Watching that was pure torture. She got away, but where the hell is she?”
The former spy grins. “There’s more. We have a tag from the truck those guys were in.”
I’m too stunned to speak for a second. “There’s a parking lot feed?”
Simona nods as she cues up another video that shows the men walking toward a truck. “And that’s not all. Apparently, the bigger guy, he’s friends with the cop who responded to the call about the car alarms.” With a muttered curse, she starts the video. “That gives me a bad vibe.”
The second video is short.
I jump up from the chair and shove my pistol into the holster under my arm. “Who is this son of a bitch and what is his address?”
She holds up her hand. “Uh, yeah. That’s what we need to approach carefully… he lives right next to the military base in a neighborhood that’s 99.99 percent military. None of us can get in there during the day. And his name is Alan Hilton. A Sergeant Major, Army Ranger.”
My hand stops as I reach for my jacket. “He’s still active duty?”
“Both of them are. The other guy is in the same unit.”
Fuck. Dirty soldiers. Just like Marshall thought. “Is it the same unit that Bryan got discharged from?”
Her eyes swing to mine. “One and the same.”
All the pieces fall into place. “Where are Roark and Marshall?”
“Doing their thing on the street, looking for leads on Sierra after she left, and anything they can dig up on her brother.”
“Anything else?”
Simona’s eyes light up. “Bryan’s girlfriend’s address. But I haven’t given it to Roark and Marshall yet. You came in just as I was about to tell them. ”
I shove my arms into the jacket I use to cover my gun. “Let’s go.”
She hops up from the desk, her small body bristling with her own weapons. “Have I told you I like the way you think?”
Simona calls Marshall while I smash every driving law that exists. She cuts her eyes at me and says lightly to Marshall, “Shit, we might not make it there if Evel Knievel here takes another exit ramp like he just did.”
She straightens the laptop sitting on her legs and continues on with a SITREP. “We’re going to Evelyn’s address now.” A pause. “Yes.” Another pause. “Hold on, boss, I’m putting you on speaker now.”
Marshall voice booms. “Okay, guys, we got some intel about the day of the boating accident. Apparently, three military looking guys were seen motoring out into the bay about an hour before the call came in to 911 about floating debris from an accident.”
My hands clench the wheel so hard, the damn thing might just deform. “Now we know who it might have been.”
“Exactly,” he says, “Luckily, a salty old dude at the Marina knows where that boat is parked when it’s not in use.
It’s an industrial park. A mixed use complex not far from the launch.
He said that the boat sits next to an old dilapidated brick building, and that he’s seen guys going in and out of there a lot in the last couple of months. ”
Simona narrows her eyes. “But at the moment, we don’t know that Sierra is with them—”
Marshall interrupts her. “Hang on, hold on. Call coming in. I’m patching Roark in with us.”
A few seconds later, Roark joins. “Got some details.”
“Oh shit!” Simona squeaks as she grabs for the handle over the door. “Cole. You nearly rolled this thing.”
I gun the rented SUV as we hit the intersection just a mile from Evelyn Morales’ house. “Not even close.”
Simona glares at me as she talks into the phone’s speaker. “Better hurry with the info. We’re closing in on Bryan’s girlfriend’s house.”
Roark jumps in. “Sierra was seen walking into a neighborhood a little after zero six hundred this morning. Presumably, she went there on foot after she left her apartment. A short time later, a small purple Mazda was visible leaving the property on the security camera at the gate. A woman fitting her description was behind the wheel.”
I exhale. “Thank fuck.”
Then I wonder, how the hell does Roark know this? I guess the man is also an enigma. Jamming on the brakes, I take the turn onto Warner Street and start scanning for the numbers on the houses.
Simona sits up, suddenly and leans really close to the windshield. “Oh, guys? There’s a purple Mazda up ahead. This isn’t a coincidence, as there are no coincidences. I think this is about to get real. Texting you both the address now.”
Marshall pierces the tense silence in the truck. “Watch your sixes. If these guys are around, things could get bad fast.”
Simona’s eyes light up. She grins. “I’m ready, don’t you worry. Adios, fellas. We’ll report in, ASAP.”
She disconnects and shoves the phone in her shirt. The next instant, she’s got a 9mm pistol in her hands, checking the rounds.
“Did you just put your phone in your bra?”
“Sure. What of it? It’s nice and safe there. And I can get to it fast if I need to.”
I shake my head as I pull to a stop at the curb a block away from the Mazda. “Are you ready? I need to know you’re—.”
She glares at me. “You’re worried because I’m a woman?”
“Not at all. I’m just fucking worried.”
She hops out of the truck. “Let’s go.”
There’s no sign of movement as we approach the house. The curtains are closed. A flyer is stuck in the door, limp from being rained on. Simona follows me. She’s closer. Her pistol is drawn, but held low so the neighbors don’t freak the fuck out.
I tilt my head. “Going around back.”
Simona takes the lead. I cover her. The hairs on my arms stand up. The silence surrounding the house is heavy. Eerie as fuck.
A pair of thick shrubs blocks the back door from the neighbor's line of view. Very convenient for what I’m about to do. Simona presses herself to the right side of the door so she can back me up when I enter.
I raise my foot and kick the fuck out of the old bungalow’s back door. The wood explodes around the lock. Adrenaline jacks my body and slows time to a crawl as I step inside.
My eyes take in everything.
Running forward, crouched low, gripping my pistol at the ready, I clear all the rooms in the little house.
Not a single sign of life.
The ground glass in my gut shreds me up inside even more.
“Dammit!” I roar as my fist crashes into the bedroom door.
Simona kneels to the floor over two discarded zip ties, the kind used for cuffs. Her eyes scan over the toppled chairs lying on the kitchen floor. “I think they have her...”
“I know. I know.” I choke as I try to swallow.
My heart tries to erupt from my chest as I lean down over a discarded tennis shoe, the blue one that Sierra had on when she left the apartment building on the video.
My voice comes out gutted. “This is Sierra’s.”
Simona stands and lifts her chin. “We’ll get her back.”
I storm out, heading for the car parked at the curb.
Come on, Universe. Cut the shit show and help me out here.
I just need one break. One fucking break and I’ll never let Sierra out of my sight again.
Under my breath, I growl, “I’m coming for you, babe. Just hang on.”