Chapter Fifty-Three
As with every meeting that Liam had with Sorenson at her black site, it ended with DHS agents dropping him off at his Explorer. This time Black did the honors.
He handed over Liam’s wallet, keys, and phone. “Good luck, ace. I’m rooting for the both of you.”
“Yeah. Thanks.” If Liam never had a reason to see any of them again, he’d celebrate.
He jumped into his Explorer and scrolled through the slew of notifications on his cell. The phone calls came from unknown phone numbers, so he was unable to dial back. Instead, he called Chelsea—hoping against hope that everything they’d discussed had been wrong.
His heart ached when her voicemail picked up. The disappointment after that half second of certainty that she would answer sliced him into pieces. Liam called Chance then Hagan. Neither answered. “Fucking hell.”
He called Linda.
“Hello?” she answered, and Liam could’ve jumped for the moon.
“Hey, Linda.” He tried to calm his voice. His dry throat and anxiety didn’t help. “I’ll explain everything later, but please listen to me.”
“Oh. Of course.” Though hesitation was evident in her words.
“Grab Frank and leave. Don’t tell me where. Don’t call for reservations. No bags. No Google. Nothing. Just go. Turn your phones off—”
“Liam?”
“Turn your phones off,” he repeated. “Leave with only cash, and you have to clean the dollar bills.” Frank’s career in banking meant he would know what Liam wanted them to do: exchange their currency in cash transactions that couldn’t be traced. “Go now.”
“Liam,” she tried again, more softly. “What’s going on? If this is about the other night—”
“You’re not safe, and I’m going to kill the motherfucker who took Julia.”
That was all the conversation that had to be said. Rattled, Linda hung up quickly after promising to do as he asked.
Why didn’t I make them leave before? Why didn’t I tell them about the danger?
Everything changed when he realized how Sorenson was invested.
Liam had fallen for her bullshit song and dance about coaxing out Pham when all he’d had to do was stand in the middle of a parking lot and scream that there was no one left to hurt. Come and get me.
And hell, even up to the last moment, he’d thought Westin and Black could be trusted. He didn’t know their roles. He had no idea where their loyalties lay. Hell if he didn’t trust anyone now. They left him without resources or intelligence. He didn’t know where to start.
“Do nothing,” Liam muttered and bared his middle fingers against his windshield in case Sorenson was watching him like a hawk. “Not a chance.”
Then turned over the engine. Pham will find me? Yeah, well, he’d find Pham too.
Even if he didn’t know how.
Liam shifted the Explorer into drive and drove toward Chelsea’s condo. That was where he would’ve gone if he hadn’t known about the abduction. It seemed like the best place to start.
He floored the vehicle onto the expressway and bobbed through traffic until he hit the left lane, flying. Anger and worry fueled his speed. Liam would get back what was his. Chelsea and revenge for Julia. Pham would die. He’d help Sorenson’s daughter too.
And as for the senator who chose saving a terrorist before her daughter, she could kiss Liam’s ass if she thought it mattered that he handed over Pham alive.
Traffic on the expressway was light. Liam threaded through the lanes and suddenly heard sirens. He checked his rearview mirror and saw flashing lights. “You gotta be kidding me.”
Adrenaline surged. Could I outrun them? Liam gripped the steering wheel as if he were holding on to the last thread of his sanity. The police sirens pulsed a secondary pull-the-fuck-over warning.
What the hell am I thinking? Liam slapped on his turn signal and jerked onto the shoulder.
The cruiser pulled up close to his rear bumper—too close. It made Liam apprehensive, and despite the dark, he could see that two cops were getting out.
Damn it to hell. He should’ve pulled over that very first second.
Liam rolled his window down. The officer’s dark uniform blended in with the night, but he froze, surprised by who he saw.
Chance leaned in close. “Unlock your doors. Pop the back open.” He didn’t act as though he’d seen Liam a day before in his life. “And to make this look right, hand over your license and registration.”
Liam didn’t move. “What are you doing?”
“Do it,” Chance said. “Locks and paperwork.”
Confused, Liam pressed the hatchback release button and unlocked the doors. The second officer moved into Liam’s peripheral vision as he turned for his license and registration. When he handed them to Chance, Liam checked his rearview mirror. Is that… Hagan?
“Nothing to worry about. Keep lookin’ the part.” Chance tapped the ID against the side of the door and ambled to the police cruiser.
Liam turned. “Hagan?”
Hagan was searching his vehicle and didn’t acknowledge that Liam had even spoken until he said, “Eyes up front,” then shut the doors and trunk.
Officer Chance returned to the driver-side window and handed over the license, registration, and a ticket.
“What the fuck is going on?” Liam demanded.
Chance gave him that look, the one Liam always saw before shit hit the fan and bullets flew. “Take care of yourself, ace.”
The two cops ambled back into the night. Seconds later, their cruiser pulled away. He didn’t get it. What was he missing? Liam rubbed his temple. Chance’s goodbye, on top of this farce, needled under Liam’s skin. He unfolded the ticket. The form was blank, but the scrawled message was clear.
We are a go. Check your gear.
Then the thing he couldn’t place slammed to mind. Ace. Had Chance ever called him that? Never.
His recall hit.
Take care of yourself, ace.
Good luck, ace.
Bravo, ace.
Chance. Black. Westin.
Adrenaline punched in Liam’s chest. He slapped on the overhead lights and turned to his back seat.
A bug-out bag complete with a Beretta M9 pistol, a Benelli M4 shotgun, and an M4A1 carbine rifle with a night scope had been wedged on the floor.All were the things necessary for a search-and-kill mission.
He raced to check the trunk and found a Kevlar vest, a nylon harness, and small explosive charges for locked-door entries. A pencil-length black box and a note card rested on top. He picked up the blank card and flipped it over.
Sorenson’s eyes are only scrambled for five minutes. Dress and drive.
Liam searched the dark sky as highway traffic blasted a swirl of frozen, polluted wind.
In the distance, he made out what might’ve been a drone—or maybe he had lost his mind.
He grabbed what he needed, hauled ass for the driver’s seat then pulled on the Kevlar and checked the carbine and shotgun for loads in the chambers.
He strapped the Beretta pistol to his ankle and secured a knife to his side.
The small box rested in his lap, and he opened it with one hand and glanced down—an ear bud and a comms piece. Liam pulled the equipment free and positioned them but didn’t turn it on yet.
Has it been less than five minutes? Fingers crossed. He slammed the gearshift into drive. His wheels spun gravel, spitting from beneath them, and he merged onto the highway the moment he knew the Explorer could make speed.
Flying, he said a prayer that everything would make sense when he flipped the power on. Then he clicked the tiny switch to turn on his comms.
Dead air clicked over, then he heard the electric buzz of the comm feed in his ear—
“Echo One, this is Zulu Actual,” a man interrupted the white noise.
They were the same radio identifiers he’d used while serving in army recon. Liam knew that whoever was on the other end was a friendly.
“Try your mic,” the man added.
“Black?” Liam muttered.
“Affirmative, Echo One. This is Zulu Actual. I read you five by five.”
Five by five…They heard him loud and clear. Liam swore under his breath. “Who the hell are you… Zulu Actual?”
“Depends on the day of the week,” Black said.
“There’s our guy,” another man said.
“Chance?”
Chance chuckled. “You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
If Liam understood what was happening, he’d have something to say, but the questions piling upon questions left him stupefied—and hopeful. Suddenly, he dared to wonder if a plan existed, even if he was the last to know. “None of this makes sense.”
“I’ll tell you what does,” another man with a deep voice said. That was the same surly grumble he’d heard in the meetings with Sorenson. That had to be Westin.
“What?” Liam asked.
“There are lines that cannot be crossed. Civilian collateral damage for political gain? Not something we could stand by and watch,” Westin said.
“You watched when I dealt with the Nymans,” Liam accused.
“You have no idea how much backup you had, brother.” Westin grumbled as if offended he’d been questioned. “You duct taped your team together, but we came in with reinforcements.”
“And then some,” Chance muttered.
“No one could get near the Nymans’ house without all hell letting loose,” Westin continued. “No matter what Sorenson thought she was doing. That’s why we hauled your ass in earlier today.”
“You knew Chelsea would be abducted?”
“No but learning about Chelsea changed our play. It would’ve been fine, but Pham was too close.”
“Wherever the hell he’s been hiding,” Black muttered, frustrated.
Why hadn’t Liam mentioned Chelsea before? He was ass over boots in love with the woman, and she didn’t even know.
The possibility for regret turned his stomach—but Liam paused. “Hang on.” Apprehension stoked his paranoia. “How’d you know?”
“You’re welcome,” Chance answered for Westin and Black.
“What does that mean?”
“When it took you two an hour to drive five minutes?” Chance snickered. “I realized Boss Man needed to know about your girl.”
The bagel shop? Then Liam paused. Did Chance just say Boss Man? Liam would pull together the connection between Chance and Westin later, and for the moment, he’d accept what they said because he trusted Chance. “What’s the plan?”
He needed to know if they were still following Sorenson’s Pham-will-come-to-you strategy. It was ridiculous. An impossible-to-catch terrorist simply waiting outside Chelsea’s condo? He didn’t like those odds.
“Same plan. Pham will come to you,” Westin said.
“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got?” Liam’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.
“Buy us time to juggle Sorenson, and stay live long enough for us to track your location. The rest will be a piece of cake.”