Chapter 43
Lillian
The thump of helicopter blades grows from barely audible to earsplitting in seconds. As dust swirls and floodlights turn the parking lot into midday, a god-like voice booms over the noise. “FBI. Freeze.”
Sirens blaring, lights flashing, a SWAT team surrounds us. From the middle of the melee, someone says, “Drop your weapons. Now.”
The first officer on scene levels a gun at my head. Not wanting to catch friendly fire, I flick the safety on, then place the automatic on the pavement.
“I’m Dante’s man.” Sean lowers his knife. “This unconscious man is Liam Boyle. He’s on the FBI’s most wanted list. You’re gonna want to watch him closely.”
“Let him down.” Service weapon steady, the G-man watches while Sean lowers my father to the ground.
“Is he dead?” I ask. God, I hope so.
“On your knees.” Not sure who said it or to whom, I err on the side of caution.
As we’re being searched, Dante emerges from the crowd, walking beside a six-foot woman in her fifties wearing a blue jacket emblazoned with bright yellow letters of the FBI.
“Stand down.” She taps the agent aiming his firearm at Sean’s head. “He’s one of ours.”
Dante’s piercing blue eyes miss nothing as he points at me. “Her, too.”
Under the watchful eyes of the cavalry, Sean and I rise, leaving our weapons behind. Then the four of us cross the lot to an unmarked truck, the kind used for local deliveries.
The woman raps on the back. “It’s Schlagle.”
After a latch clicks, metal doors swing free, my nose scrunches at the thick scent of sweat and socks. Dante leads the way up the foldaway stairs. Me, Sean, and our new best friend follow.
The agent who let us in sits down in his seat in front of stacks of monitors. To his left? A humming computer rack that includes a coffee machine. To his right? Mace and Daed.
Rushing over, I hug them both, only moving aside so the bros can share manly backslaps.
As they download, I stare at the screens. One shows SWAT continuing to disarm the mercenaries. Another picks up my father being loaded into an ambulance. A third shows Feds in orange hazmat suits entering the warehouse.
“You okay, babe?” Having finished talking with his teammates, Sean squeezes my hand.
“Yeah, fine.” Not really. If I were being totally truthful, I’m dying to open my father’s laptop.
As I’m about to ask who has it, Schlagle picks up her ringing cell phone. Listening, she holds it to her ear, face draining of color. “Say again?”
She repeats what was said for our ears. “Toy drones are swarming across the US?”
While she speaks, the old phone I stole from my father’s safe vibrates in my pocket.
UNKNOWN: Drones Activated. STOP2END.
Can it be that simple? Without thinking, I thumb in the message, then hit send. After a couple of gut-wrenching seconds, another text appears.
UNKNOWN: Drones Deactivated.
I hand the device to Sean, who reads it before passing it on to Schlagle. Nodding, she shares it with Dante, who makes sure the team sees it, too. By the time the hot potato returns to me, the Fed gasps.
“Yes?” With her phone back at her ear, the tension drains from her upper body. “They’re returning to home base?”
We have no idea what’s in those vials and why is Sean keeping the one he found secret?
“Did any crash?” I ask.
As Dante flicks a worried glance at Mace and Sean, Schlagle frowns.
“We’re assessing the situation.” By her cool tone, we’re supposed to understand our part in this shit show is officially over.
Or not, because the phone from the safe pings again.
UNKNOWN: The cure for my daughter. Many lives for one.
“Holy Mother of God.” Yeah, I’m screeching again. This time at the Fed. “How the hell is my father free?”
While I try to calm the fuck down, a location and a time pop up on the phone.
Schlagle makes a call while Sean plugs in the coordinates. “He wants to do the exchange now. At the River Walk.”
Hanging up, the agent in charge of this clown show rolls her eyes. “Boyle’s ambulance was hijacked on the way to the hospital.”
Of course it was.