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Sean followed him. ‘Who’s the woman in the cage?’

‘Don’t you know?’ Ken asked mockingly. ‘I thought you knew everything by the way you were talking.’

‘You’re going to lure O’Bannion here.’

‘No. I’m not.’

Sean grabbed his arm. ‘Then where? You shot up his office to rile him so that he’d let his guard down when he came after you. You stole his office manager to make sure he came.’

‘Looks like you do know everything.’

‘All alone, Dad? You’re going to take O’Bannion on all by yourself?’

Ken smiled condescendingly. ‘You’re offering to help me? Really?’

Sean’s eyes narrowed. ‘You can’t go alone. That man was an Army Ranger.’

‘So? I shot up his office single-handedly. Took out three guards.’

Sean nodded. ‘But you left five survivors, not including the woman in the cage. Stone O’Bannion didn’t die.’

Ken shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter. I covered my face. Now if you don’t mind, I have a meeting to prepare for.’ He went into the garage to load his luggage in his car, but Sean followed.

‘Where’s the cash, Ken?’

Ken lost his temper. ‘I don’t know. Now shut up and get out. I don’t answer to you, Sean.’ He turned his back to load his luggage and realized his mistake too late when the barrel of a gun dug into his kidneys.

‘Now you do, Dad.’

Cincinnati, Ohio

Wednesday 5 August, 10.15 P.M.

‘No,’ Isenberg said flatly. She’d arrived at the hospital a short while before to help them develop the plan. Which basically meant that she wanted to tell Marcus what he could and could not do. ‘We do not condone the use of civilians as bait in hostage negotiations.’

Scarlett, her father and Deacon’s boss Zimmerman had asked Isenberg to join them in their little war room – set up in the same place where Scarlett had interviewed the Ledger team the night before – and Marcus had agreed out of respect.

But it didn’t mean that he had to agree with Isenberg’s opinion.

Marcus shrugged his shoulders and settled his body in the chair he’d deliberately chosen – the chair in which Stone had sat last night. It made him feel a little closer to his brother and at the same time reminded him what was at stake. As if he really needed reminding.

‘With all due respect, Lieutenant,’ he said, ‘it doesn’t matter. It’s my choice.’

‘You’re choosing to get killed, then?’ Isenberg asked sarcastically, but there was a flicker in her eyes that was genuine concern. The sight helped Marcus get his temper in check. Mostly.

‘No, ma’am. But this man has to be stopped. He shot my brother and left him for dead.’ Marcus’s gaze shifted to the empty chair between Isenberg and Zimmerman, and his hands began to tremble. It was the chair where Cal had been sitting the night before. ‘Sweeney killed a man who’d been like family to me for most of my life. Gunned him and too many others down in cold blood. Like they were nothing. He sells people – families with children – like they’re animals.’ He thought of Gayle, how terrified she had to be, and his fury flared. ‘He’s holding the woman who is a mother to me, and he’s got her in a fucking cage . . .’ His voice faltered and he cleared his throat roughly. ‘So forgive me if I don’t care what you do or don’t condone. This is my family, so it’s my business.’

Isenberg bristled. ‘It becomes my business when you include my people.’

Marcus stiffened. He hadn’t asked for help from anyone but Scarlett. It had been Isenberg, Zimmerman and Jonas Bishop who’d started throwing additional law enforcement bodies into the mix. ‘Sweeney needs to be stopped. He needs to pay. Right now he’s fixated on me, so right now I’m the highest-value chip on the table.’

Isenberg narrowed her eyes, but Zimmerman spoke before she could. ‘He killed one of my men today too,’ he said quietly. ‘I want him to pay as much as you do, Mr O’Bannion. I want him stopped. But I want this done right. I want to be smart.’

Marcus started to open his mouth to tell Isenberg and Zimmerman that they could take their people and shove them, but Scarlett shook her head gently, stopping him from messing the whole thing up.

‘What would you recommend instead?’ she asked, meeting Isenberg’s eyes first, then Zimmerman’s, then, last, her father’s. ‘We’re putting snipers in the trees around the meeting place – here and here.’ She pointed to the map of the park that they’d spread over the table. ‘Kate Coppola is an expert marksman and Adam can certainly hold his own.’

They’d tagged Deacon’s cousin, Detective Adam Kimble, for the op, and he had agreed right away. Which was nice of the man, because Marcus didn’t know Adam from . . . well, from Adam. Marcus understood that Kimble hadn’t done it for him. The detective had agreed for Scarlett’s sake, as they’d worked together for years, and for Deacon’s sake. Faith was about to become Adam’s cousin by marriage and since she and Marcus were already cousins, that apparently made Marcus family.

‘We’ve got air support with night IR goggles, plus search-and-rescue dogs on standby,’ Scarlett continued levelly. ‘We’ve got an FBI SWAT team gathering on the ground, ready to back us up. Marcus will wear full body armor rather than the Kevlar that Stone was wearing this afternoon.’

Because bullets fired from an assault rifle went through Kevlar like a knife through hot butter. Stone was lucky to be alive. The fifteen bullets hadn’t hit anything major. At least that was what they’d been told by the surgeon when he’d come out to speak with them mid-way through the surgery. He’d been “hopeful” that Stone would make it.

Marcus still couldn’t let himself relax. Not until he saw Stone and heard his voice.

‘What would you recommend instead?’ Scarlett asked again.

Zimmerman shook his head. ‘Nothing at the moment.’

‘I don’t know,’ Isenberg admitted. ‘This feels wrong.’

Scarlett’s smile was tight. She was scared too. Marcus could see it in her expression, could feel it in the way she gripped his hand under the table, so hard that his tendons crackled.

‘Of course it feels wrong, Lieutenant,’ she said. ‘It is wrong. Sweeney’s picked the venue and the time. This could be – and probably is – a trap. If I can find out where he’s holding Gayle in the next thirty minutes, we’ll punt to our “storm the castle” plan and stage a rescue. Otherwise, Marcus pretends to do a switch, just until we have Gayle in our hands. Then Adam and Kate incapacitate Sweeney and we go in for the arrest. Unless you can think of anything better, this is the plan.’

Isenberg turned on Jonas Bishop, her equal in the CPD hierarchy. ‘Did you talk to her?’

Jonas nodded. ‘I did. She’s prepared to turn in her badge if you press her. So, please, think carefully before you press her.’

Isenberg visibly flinched. ‘What?’

Marcus’s eyes widened as he turned to Scarlett with a combination of shock and dismay. ‘You’re what?’ he demanded. ‘No. You are not turning in your badge. Not because of me.’

Scarlett shrugged. ‘It’s my badge. I can do what I want.’

Marcus met Isenberg’s eyes. ‘I feel a little sorry for you, Lieutenant.’

Isenberg stared at him for a moment, then shocked him by chuckling. ‘Good. You should.’ She turned to Scarlett. ‘All right, Detective. I can approve your plan without liking it.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Scarlett said mildly.

‘And do not think about turning in your badge. It would never have come to that. I would have transferred you first.’

‘That’s good to know,’ Scarlett murmured. ‘I believed you were worried for my own good. It’s nice to know that for sure.’ She checked her phone. ‘We should be leaving soon. I don’t want to text Deacon again about Diesel and the safe.’

‘They’ll text us every thirty minutes with progress,’ Marcus said. ‘Deacon’s been good about that.’ Deacon was testy because Scarlett kept bugging him between updates.