Chapter Seventeen #2
He’d debated long and quietly about this next, but it had to be stated.
“We are not releasing this for public help for all these reasons. Keep engaged and make sure everyone who is searching understands. When in doubt, take him out. Report to the operational HQ with any sightings or negative updates. We want it all. Any questions?”
“Why are you handling this? Why not regular law enforcement channels?” The U.S. Marshall looked to Ryker.
Mackey answered for the lead groups. “Because we have the resources, and we’ve been in this from the initial assassination attempt. With the help of Sergeant Walker, we’ve been tearing apart this city. We only catch him by working together.”
Frank shifted from where he was standing against the wall. “We’ve started a new grid search downtown where we believe he’s frequently been. Let’s not overlap. Let’s talk about search areas.”
Some of the men were eyeing Hunt next to Frank, but Mackey had no intention of explaining the depth of interest involved. Let them assume Hunt worked for Frank. He, Quaid, and Harrison alone knew how good Hunt was at analyzing, gathering, and well, hunting.
Frank led the next part of the discussion. Mackey shifted to Hunt’s side. “Explain something to me.”
Hunt raised a brow. “That’s not how this works.”
Mackey stifled a swear word. “Don’t tell me the Navy doesn’t want him.”
“They do. I do. Rules?”
“We’re going to make our own.”
“This trap? Not real keen on putting Alanna and Quaid in the midst of this mess.”
“They’re already there. The man is actively trying to kill Alanna.”
“He’s missing a lot for somebody trying to hit a target.”
Mackey conceded the point without answering. ‘I’m the first to admit, even listening to the depth of what we’ve uncovered, we still don’t have everything. But if we wait for more pieces, we screw the pooch.”
Hunt tipped his head, his eyes scoping the room. “What’s next?”
“I’m putting you with Quaid and Alanna.”
“Protection?”
“Backup. I’m tired of them being fucking alone every time he hits, and you are a face he won’t recognize. What’s your command directive?”
“No weapons.”
Mackey looked him up and down. “Friend, your whole body is a weapon.”
“Can’t use it either. NCIS Agent Borell is here with Ryker. But believe me when I say, I will step in and damn the consequences.”
“The Navy isn’t going to make any fuss if he ends up dead.”
Harrison joined them, having caught the end of the conversation. “Gregg will cover you however is needed, and so will we.”
“You don’t have to…”
Mackey slapped his arm. “Sorry, my friend. Not your decision.”
He moved off. Harrison and Hunt shifted to the corner of the room and went silent.
Quaid worked his way around the room. Alanna was talking to the Highway Patrol. Time to pull them and work out the bait – the when, the where, and the what would draw Mercer best. He went to Remy.
“Get with Tinkerton and do a review of our weapons. Make sure we have everything prepped we’re going to need.”
Remy widened his eyes. “And that would be the bazooka, the drone, and the deadly viruses.” The man grinned, his sense of humor complimenting his innocent expression.
Mackey smirked. “If we have any of those, you’re fired.”
Remy pushed out of his chair. “Bet you. The bazooka is a probable. The drone a maybe. You do not understand Tinkerton’s hobbies.” His deep laugh had others looking as he walked out of the room.
Quaid left his conversation with the U.S. Marshall and joined him. “A bazooka?”
“Never know what we’re going to need. Mercer did blow Alanna through a plate glass window.”
“True. My office. Planning?”
“You sure you want to let her be bait?”
“Let her? Oh, that won’t be something I’m saying to her. If her boss okays it, she’ll do it. I better be her ride or die.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.” He walked away.
Mackey made sure Quaid didn’t see him smile.
&&&&&&&&&&
QM International Communication Check: 00:00:12 PST 12/25 – San Diego HQ. Security Level reduced to 4. HQ Secure. Manhunt remains active. Per usual holiday instructions: Be merry. Be safe. ?
Quaid made his way to the back stairs of his house with no hall lights and silently cursed the woman who woke in the middle of the night and wandered.
Eleven days into this relationship and it felt like ten years – like he knew her every thought process and every conclusion.
And when he woke and she wasn’t beside him, protector Quaid came out, swinging into the room bearing arms.
Planning hadn’t gone a direction he liked.
Not sure what direction would have been satisfactory, he kept his mouth shut.
He was trying to use tactical Quaid, not-the-man-you-sleep-with brain.
They’d hashed the whole operation at QM, and everybody had an opinion until Alanna finally called it.
She had a combative spark in her eyes. In the short time he’d worked with her, that look signaled no good results if they kept pushing.
In the kitchen, he paused by the empty chairs and clean counters.
Not here. So far, she hadn’t been one who made herself comfortable anywhere in his house except his bedroom.
He wasn’t complaining, but his room was the only place he could coax her to unwind.
They had to work on the belonging concept.
He proceeded to the dining room on silent feet.
Cool tile, chilled air from the air conditioning, and humming from the security office seemed normal enough.
The lights on the Christmas tree in the living room twinkled softly, and they’d kept the holiday low-key.
No gifts, good food, a quiet swim at dusk.
No security alerts, so the crew wasn’t worried.
There she was, seated at the War Table, sticky notes spread out in front of her in a colorful planning pattern, and her head cradled on her arms.
Asleep?
He couldn’t tell. The chandelier was off, but the side lights accenting the art on the walls was on low.
The dining room faced the back terrace which was hidden in dark shadows.
No one had turned on the illuminating lights for the patio and pool.
Or somebody had turned them off. A problem for later.
He walked with care to the table, not wanting to startle her, but she didn’t move. Asleep confirmed. He touched her hair, then wrapped the rich brunette strand around his finger.
Yes, he had a long repertoire with women. He could pull off touching and massages, kisses and necking, sex as hot as the night was, but he’d stopped those random encounters because he didn’t like who he was when he had a different woman on his arm every night. Playboy Quaid was a paper tiger.
In some circles, warrior Quaid wasn’t acceptable, but he’d proved to himself and others long ago that he was.
With Alanna, he was going forward without any reticence, jumping all in.
He might believe he understood her, but how to respond was always a dilemma.
He loved the challenge, and every time he had to take a new path to meet her, he had to shed more of the artificial Quaid.
“You’re thinking too hard.” Her raspy whisper set relief in motion right to his gut where worry agitated. He released her hair and pulled out a chair, then sat as close to her as he could. “Honey, I need to teach you bed etiquette.”
She lifted her head and squinted at him. “What?”
“Wake me.”
“Why? You were sleeping soundly. I wasn’t.”
“And yet I woke and couldn’t find you.” He slid an arm around her back. To her credit she didn’t yelp when he yanked her to his lap. She wrapped her arm around his neck and molded her body to his.
“We can count this relationship in days, but I need you to listen to me. My home is yours, my bed is yours, everything I have is yours. Whatever you need.”
“How can you be ready for that?”
She didn’t trust him yet, and he wanted to force it.
But that wasn’t the way it worked. She deserved his attention until he earned her belief in him, and they deserved time.
Together. “When this case is over…” He kissed her pouty lips.
He went for tender, but need roared, and he slanted his mouth to hers for a deep taste of her soft lushness.
She broke away and her hand stroked his cheek. “When this case is over?”
“Pick a hotel, a national park, a god damn cruise, anywhere, I don’t care. We’re going. Alone. No friends. No family. No security. Just us.”
She laid her head on his shoulder. “Okay,” she whispered. “Just us.”
Tension drained away replaced by relief. She closed her eyes, and he traced the path of sticky notes to follow her thought process. “What is this?”
She straightened and stared at her work. “A plan with only my gut for guidance. Trying to let my subconscious cull through all the research I have on this monster to find the right path to him.”
Quaid lifted the first sticky note from the table. “The hook. Explain it to me.”
“He’s watching. We know that. He wants me. We know that, too. He calls his victims sweet honey, but he let one get away. Me.”
“So, what? You’re going to taunt him with the words. How?”
“Note. In the alley. In the neighborhood with some of the businesses, at the church. He frequents this area. I’ll do that alone.”
“Challenge him?”
“Yes. He’ll come.”
“Where? We’d talked the Coronado Patton.” He paused for minute and glanced at the other notes. “He won’t go there.”
“No, he won’t. What about the empty building next to QM? He used our terrain for the first assault, and he forced us to retreat there. Elizabeth said the sale was final on the building.”
“It is, but it’s a mess. It’s going to need full…” His voice trailed off. “Obstacles, hiding places, like a controlled close quarters training site, only we’re funneling him through it.”
“I haven’t been over there, but yes. He’ll come alone, thinking he can control, be brutal, and very personal.”