“Fuck the ATF,” said Dax, taking a long swig of his beer and drinking nearly a third of it down. “Let’s get that girl home where she belongs. It’s done, right?”
Lydia looked at him. It was done. They’d come looking for Lily and they’d found her. She told them what had happened to her and now she was safe. The ATF and supposedly the FBI got what they wanted, the scene that allowed them to go into The New Day and the publicity that would follow would take care of the rest of the organization. This cult that had been stealing people’s will and all their money was finished… or at least mortally wounded. But it didn’t feel finished, not to Lydia. There were giant holes, myriad unanswered questions. She could sense them, even if she couldn’t exactly verbalize what was bothering her.
“Dax, how did you find us? How did you get us out of there?”
“Someone wanted us out of the way,” said Jeffrey. “Hence the fall down the hole and waking up in a cell.”
“Same thing happened to me. Only when I woke up, the door was open and I was still armed.”
“So what happened?” said Jeffrey, leaning forward in his chair.
“I left the cell and went looking for the caves Grimm mentioned. I found them, saw the weapons stored there. I mean, we’re talking like an arsenal that would make the U.S. Army proud. Unreal.
“I heard an explosion then, some gunfire. I came to the surface and the Feds were running all over the place, buildings were burning. I figured that there had been some kind of screw-up and I was out of luck. I came to get the two of you.”
Lydia shook her head. “That doesn’t make any sense. I thought the whole point was that the FBI couldn’t go in after Rhames. That’s why they secretly supported Lily; that’s why they came to see us. Why was the ATF able to go in? Why didn’t Grimm just piggyback on their investigation? According to Hunt, they had the compound under surveillance in preparation for the raid.”
“Maybe Grimm didn’t know. Government agencies are notorious for not communicating with each other,” said Dax, reaching for the last Corona from the six-pack by Jeffrey’s feet.
“Right,” said Jeff slowly. “But it makes more sense if Grimm doesn’t actually work for the FBI, that he works for someone else with their own agenda for getting to Rhames.”
Lydia thought about it for a second, looked at Dax.
“So we got duped?” she said.
“We were going in anyway,” answered Jeffrey.
“What difference does it make?” asked Dax. “We got your girl. We’re all alive and kicking. Let’s go.”
“I still don’t understand how you found us and how you got us out.”
“Not your problem. Just be glad I did.”
Not my problem, thought Lydia. She looked at Dax but his face was blank. She took another sip of her warm beer and wondered if she’d ever know the whole story behind what happened to them tonight-or if she was going to have to add that to the list of unanswered questions in her life. She glanced behind her at the sleeping form on the hotel-room bed. Lily was the whole reason they’d come and she was safe now. It was over.
Twenty-Eight
She fired blind through the blizzard of glass and missed the guy completely. He kept coming. A shot fired from his weapon whipped past her so close and so fast that she thought it drew blood without touching her, blowing a cannon-sized hole in the windshield, then in the seat beside her. She looked down at Matt; he was pale and out cold but she could see his shallow breathing. But her mind was clear; panic had left her. As their assailant ratcheted the gun, bringing more ammunition to the chamber, she scrambled from the car and went around the hood. Inside the vehicle, she knew, she was a sitting duck. From outside, she could protect them both better.
“Put your gun on the ground and your hands in the air,” she yelled ridiculously. “I’m a police officer and the sirens you hear are coming this way.”
He answered her by putting another round into the car. The Explorer jerked with the impact and she held on tight to her Glock. She’d fired four rounds already, which meant she had thirteen left. She lay on the ground and saw his feet beside the Explorer, right beside the back driver’s side where Mount lay wounded and helpless.
Then, “Stand where I can see you and I won’t kill your partner,” he said, his voice calm, hard and rough as the engine of a semi. “I’m standing over him with the barrel of my gun to his head.”
Every nerve ending in her body felt like it had been electrified and all she could hear was the sound of her heart hammering in her ears.
“Okay,” she said, her breathing so labored she was having trouble speaking. She fought to keep the fear out of her voice. “Put your gun on the ground and I’ll move where you can see me.”
“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “That’s gonna happen.”
She heard him ratchet the gun again as she moved onto her belly and held her Glock in front of her. She heard the sirens growing louder; they were still too far to help her. She was on her own. She fired at his ankles, a nearly impossible shot. But he had a big ankle and she had good aim and the night filled with the sound of him screaming, high pitched and girlish, frantic with agony. She fired again, clipping his other leg for good measure. She heard the gun go off as he fell and then landed on the concrete. She was on her feet before he hit the dirt and then she heard the sirens louder and closer. She felt something like relief pulse through her.
“Mount,” she yelled as she came around behind him, her gun trained in front of her. The guy didn’t look as big or as tough lying on the ground writhing in pain. She held the Glock in his direction as she came around his side and kicked his gun away. It slid across the gravel of the shoulder, out of his reach.
She made a mistake then. She looked away from the road and from the man lying there and into the window where Mount lay very still, too still. She yelled his name again and reached a hand in to feel his pulse.
She never even saw the other van come up from the other direction until shots fractured the night with sound and light. She felt an impossible impact and then a terrible burning in her shoulder, her leg, her arm. She opened fire with her own gun, putting holes in the side of the van. The man on the road reached for his gun and she put a round in his chest. He fell flat and motionless, eyes staring.
Then she was falling. The van was speeding off and the sirens were loud; she could see their red and blue glow. Before the van was out of sight, she saw a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair at the wheel. And beside her was a young man. It was a face she recognized but could not place. Then there was black.
Part Three Found
Stones and flowers on the ground,
We are lost and we are found,
But love is gonna save us…
– BEN BENASSI AND THE BIZ
Twenty-Nine
The box sat waiting for her when they returned home from bringing Lily back to her mother. Dax drove the Land Rover back to New York. Lydia, Jeffrey, and Lily had boarded a plane in Tampa in the interest of getting Lily back to her mother as quickly as possible. It was midmorning by the time they stepped from the elevator onto the bleached wood floor of their loft.
They’d been up all night. But Lydia didn’t even take her coat off; she went straight to the kitchen for a box cutter, then strode over to the box and slashed at its taped center. Her eyes were heavy and her body ached with fatigue and from the fall she’d taken. She would have liked to climb into bed but now was the time; if she didn’t look inside the box this morning, she never would. She had a gift for avoidance but she didn’t want to do that this time. To turn her back on what could be inside those cardboard walls would be like turning her back on a part of herself.