Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
B rynn rubbed the itchy spot on the back of her neck.
“Quit touching it.”
He gave her the impression that he wanted to rip someone’s head off. She started to scratch again, then dropped her hand to her lap. It was the location where Ace had stuck the small transparent tracking device on her. She was back in her usual work gear—jeans, shirt tucked in, gun and badge.
“I’ll go in and assess the scene—” she thought of the dead young people and it made anger and sorrow cramp her gut “—and parade around enough for Nomad to see me.”
A muscle ticked in Vander’s jaw.
She reached over and gripped his thigh. “Hunt and the cops are in the building. You, Rhys, and Saxon will be just around the corner.”
He lifted his chin.
“It’s going to be fine. On the very slim chance Nomad gets me, I have the tracker.”
“Think I’ll just leave it on you even after this is all over.”
Her heart squeezed. Did he realize he was talking like he wanted something long-term?
He pulled to a stop in front of the apartment building. The area was popular with students at the university. She saw the uniformed cop standing at the front door.
“I’ll be around the corner,” Vander said.
“I know.” She leaned over and kissed him.
She’d been planning to keep it brief, but he gripped her chin and deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging deep.
Need pulsed inside her.
God, would it always be like this? One look, one touch, one taste, and desire would just explode inside her.
But under that desire was a sense of rightness. Like coming home.
She nibbled his lip. “Let’s do this, arrest Nomad, and go home.”
Dark-blue eyes studied her.
“And then I want you to take some time off,” she added. “I want to go back to the cabin and lie by the pond.”
Warmth bloomed in the chill of his eyes. “You do owe me many and varied sexual favors.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Go get your man, Detective.”
“Oh, I’ve already got him.” She cupped Vander’s jaw. “But I’ll go get the bad guy.”
She opened the door and got out. As she walked toward the uniform, the X6 stayed where it was parked. She rolled her eyes again. She knew that Vander wouldn’t move until she was safely inside.
Farther down the sidewalk, she saw a group of young women walking. They cast sad glances at the apartment building.
“Hey, Officer Brown,” Brynn said.
“Detective Sullivan.” The cop nodded at her.
“Is Detective Morgan inside?”
The young man nodded. “He said for you to go straight up.” The officer glanced at the idling SUV. “Hell of a guard dog you’ve got there, Detective.”
She raised a brow. “Be careful, he bites.”
Suddenly, a shot rang out.
Officer Brown jerked, blood spraying.
Shit . She grabbed him and yanked him down.
More bullets hit the building above their heads.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Brynn slapped a hand on the officer’s wound and pulled him toward the front door alcove.
“Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” Brown’s breathing was fast and panicked.
“Hey, stay calm.” She checked his arm. “It doesn’t look too bad.”
His chest was heaving, but he managed a nod.
“Get inside,” she said.
Another hail of gunfire hit. She scanned around the street. Multiple snipers, likely up on a roof somewhere.
She saw the door of the X6 open.
Bullets peppered the SUV. She gasped, her heart leaping into her throat. God . Vander.
She pulled her SIG. She had no target, but she fired in the direction of the rooftop across the street.
More bullets pinged into the X6.
Her gut tied itself into a knot. She knew the X6 had some armor, but it couldn’t handle sustained gun fire.
It wouldn’t protect Vander forever.
There . Movement on the building rooftop across the street. She fired again.
There was another barrage of gunfire aimed in her direction. She slid back into the alcove just as bits of brick flew everywhere.
Then she heard screams.
Dammit, the young women on the sidewalk.
No .
During a pause in the gunfire, Brynn peeked around the corner of her hiding place.
She saw the three women crouched on the ground, huddled together, with their hands clamped on their ears.
Someone was still firing on Vander, keeping him pinned.
Brynn took a deep breath, then she burst out of the doorway and ran toward the women.
“Up! Get off the street!” she yelled.
The women rose, blinking, their faces pale.
Brynn grabbed the arm of one. “Run into the nearest building.”
All of a sudden, the throaty roars of engines echoed down the street. Brynn stiffened.
A pack of motorcycles roared into view, zipping and weaving.
Shit . “Go. Run!”
The women stumbled into a run, racing down the sidewalk. Brynn sprinted after them.
She glanced back and saw more bullets hit the X6. The windshield was a spider web of cracks.
Her chest tightened until it was painful. Please be okay, Vander.
Bullets hit the sidewalk ahead of them, and the women screamed and stopped.
Brynn aimed up at the rooftop. Where the hell are you, asshole?
She saw a flash of movement and fired.
A man slumped over the edge of the roof and she smiled grimly.
Someone heaved him back.
“Move!” she shouted again. “Get inside.”
Two of the women sprinted toward the closest building.
Suddenly, a Harley roared onto the sidewalk. The third woman screamed, frozen to the spot.
More bikes pulled in closer. All the bikers wore bandanas over their faces.
A biker grabbed the third woman. She screamed.
“Let her go!” Brynn fired, just above the biker’s head.
He released the woman, and Brynn yanked her away.
There were more gunshots, Harleys circling them. It was pure chaos.
Shit . She looked around.
“Across the street.” Brynn pulled the woman’s hand and yanked her into the street.
But the bikers were waiting.
As the bikes roared toward them, circling them like sharks, their engines roaring, Brynn’s mouth went dry. She realized the bikers and the gunmen had been herding her right where they wanted her.
Brynn fired and one biker toppled off his bike. Another tried to grab the woman again, but Brynn pulled her away and fired again.
There . A break.
She shoved the woman. “Run. Get inside. As fast as you can!”
The woman took off running, her steps jerky. She almost tripped on the curb, but caught her balance, then sprinted into the closest building.
Brynn turned back and saw cops—led by Hunt—spilling out of the apartment building on the other side of the street.
Thank God.
Vander’s X6 was still being peppered with bullets.
Suddenly, there was a deafening roar of a motorcycle. Brynn was already turning as she was yanked off her feet.
She struggled, and found herself thrown across a biker’s lap. Her gun flew out of her hand.
The bike wheeled around, tires screeching, then sped down the street.
She fought, but he landed a hard punch to the back of her head and she saw stars.
“Hold still, or I’ll enjoy hurting you.”
Her insides froze. The wind rushed at her and she glanced up.
She recognized the voice and the glittering eyes over the red fabric of his bandana.
Nomad.
* * *
Fuck .
Vander gritted his teeth as more bullets hit the windshield and metalwork of the SUV.
A shattered web of cracks filled the windshield. He couldn’t see Brynn anymore. The last he’d seen of her she was trying to save a terrified woman.
He heard the growl of the bikes as they circled.
Fuck . He rammed a hand onto the steering wheel. He was pinned down. Nomad had planned this well. Keep Vander out of the picture, and lure Brynn out, because of course she’d run to save others.
He heard more gunfire and peered through his side window. He saw Hunt and several cops spill out onto the street.
Fuck this. Vander shoved open his door again.
And saw a biker yank Brynn onto his bike.
No . Vander’s jaw locked.
He slammed the door shut and gunned the SUV’s engine. He prayed the light armor built into the body was enough to keep the engine running.
He roared down the street. Bikers scattered, but one was too slow. Vander clipped him and the biker flew into the air, his Harley skidding away.
Vander didn’t stop to watch. He kept his gaze through the cracked windshield, locked on the bike and Brynn.
Damn, he could barely see. As they turned a corner, traffic thickened. As they careened around another corner, he gritted his teeth.
He touched the dash. “Ace!”
“I’m here.”
“Pull up Brynn’s tracker. A biker has her and I’m in pursuit.”
Vander grabbed his Glock, then slammed the butt against the windshield. Then again.
The shattered glass fell out. Air rushed at him, but at least he could see.
There they were.
He spotted the Harley zipping through the cars ahead. He saw the bike take a turn.
Vander jerked the wheel and followed. His heart was pounding, but he tried to stay focused. He had to get Brynn back. That was all he cared about.
Nomad was not fucking getting his hands on her.
Vander saw the bike mount the sidewalk, then turn another corner.
A car blocked Vander’s way and he hit the brakes.
“Come on!” He leaned on the horn.
The car jerked forward, then slowly moved out of his way. He gunned the engine. He raced past, metal screeching as the X6 scraped the side of the other vehicle.
He turned onto the street. There were several cars and a delivery truck, but no bike.
“Ace! I don’t have a visual.”
“The tracker shows her five hundred feet ahead of you. They’re still moving.”
Vander accelerated and scanned. He overtook another car.
“I don’t see a bike.”
“They should be right there,” Ace said.
Dammit . “I don’t see her.” No. Fucking, no.
He kept driving, following the flow of traffic.
“They’ve turned! They’re moving away from you. Southeast toward 101.”
Cursing, Vander yanked the wheel. He sped on, looking for any sign of the Harley.
Nothing.
Trucks, cars, cabs, but no bike.
No Brynn.
“Fuck, Vander,” Ace said. “They’re on the highway. They’re heading south and picking up speed.”
Vander slammed his palm on the wheel. He wouldn’t catch them now.
“Come back to Norcross,” Ace said. “We’ll see where they take her, and plan a rescue op.”
Vander ground his teeth together. Every second that Nomad had her, was a second the asshole could hurt her.
A flashback reared in his head. Two of his team taken hostage by the Taliban.
Neither had made it.
Vander had rescued them, but he’d been too late. All that had been left were lumps of meat.
He kept a tenuous grip on his control as he drove back to the office. Several of his tires were flat, and the engine was whining as it died. He drove into the parking level.
Saxon and Hunt were waiting. They took one look at his face and flinched.
“We’re going to get her back,” Hunt growled.
Vander gave the man a curt nod. “Did you arrest any bikers at the scene?”
“Yes, but no one’s talking.”
“The women on the street?”
“Safe. Shaken, but not hurt. And our officer is fine too.”
They strode upstairs and straight into Ace’s office. Rhys was there, leaning against the wall. He nodded, a promise in his eyes. Vander was unsurprised to see Easton there as well, in an expensive, tailored suit, his face serious. He nodded as well.
His brothers, his men, they would never let him down.
Vander blew out a breath.
“I found out how Nomad evaded us,” Ace said.
On-screen was some CCTV of the streets near where Brynn was snatched.
Vander saw cars driving past, then a blue delivery truck came into view.
As Vander watched, the back of the truck opened downward, forming a ramp.
Then a Harley—ridden by a biker and a struggling woman—rode right up inside the truck.
The ramp closed and the truck picked up speed.
A moment later, Vander’s battered X6 sped past.
His blood boiled. He’d driven straight past the truck. Driven straight past Brynn and he hadn’t even known. Fuck .
Saxon gripped his shoulder. “Lock it down. She needs your head in the game.”
Rhys nodded. “You’re the best fucking commander Ghost Ops ever had. You can plan a rescue op better than any man I know.”
Vander dragged in air, and looked at Ace. “They stopped moving yet?”
“Not yet. But it looks like they’re heading to the port. They’re pulling in at Pier 94. That’s the bulk terminal, where sands and aggregates are unloaded.”
On another screen, Vander saw the delivery truck driving into the port facility. There were several large cranes in the distance, and long piles of gray sand.
Vander frowned. Why the hell was Nomad taking Brynn there? He guessed it was a deserted, out-of-the-way place for torture and murder.
“Maybe Nomad has a warehouse there,” Hunt suggested.
“We need to start planning the rescue,” Saxon said.
As his friends talked, their words turned to a drone. Vander stared at the screen. Was she scared? Was she hurt?
He blew out a breath. No . She’d be fighting. She’d be holding on for him to get there.
Vander prayed he wasn’t too late.
“They’ve stopped,” Ace barked.
Vander looked at the glowing dot on the screen.
“Wait.” Ace tapped. “What the hell?”
Vander watched the dot move…into the water of the Bay.
“They’re on a boat?” Hunt asked.
“To where?” Rhys asked.
“Pull up the satellite image,” Vander ordered.
A satellite image filled the screen, showing the water of the Bay, and several bulk carrier ships docked there.
“They’re heading for a ship,” Hunt breathed.
“I suspect that’s how Nomad’s been getting Stardust into the city,” Vander said.
“ There .” Ace pointed to a ship. “They’ve stopped there.” He tapped the keyboard. “A ship called the Reliance Express . Last port of call—” he looked up “—Port of Lázaro Cárdenas, Mexico.”
Vander stared at the dot. Hold on, Brynn. I’m coming. “All right. We know where she is.” He marched out of the room.
“Where are you going?” Hunt asked.
“To get my gear together so I can get my woman back.”