Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2) (2 page)

BOOK: Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2)
3.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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If anything happened to him, she’d die too.

She hugged him fiercely, then sank to her haunches and made him follow her as she crawled to the register. She slid one cupboard door quietly open. It was full of supplies. Staplers, receipt rolls, plastic bags. She shoved it all to one end of the cupboard and urged him inside. He lay there, curled up, shaking, eyes wide and frightened.

“You have to stay here and not make a sound.” She laughed a little hysterically at that. “Don’t thump your head or hands and feet against the sides, or else they’ll hear you, understand?”

He nodded but grabbed her hand in a desperate plea.

“I’m going to run to those two shops over there.” He rapidly shook his head. He’d seen what had happened to the others who’d tried to run. “I’ll wait for the bad men to look the other way before I go. I’m a fast runner.” She slipped off her heels, squeezed his fingers. “I swear I will come back for you, but whatever happens you have to promise not to move from here. Not to make a sound. Promise?” She held him so tight he winced, but he nodded even as tears started to roll. She held his fingers to her lips and then kissed his warm cheek. “I’ll be back, Michael. I won’t let them hurt you. You trust me, right?”

He nodded.

“And I trust you because I
know
how smart you are.” Tears blurred her vision but she blinked them away and a solid wave of determination moved through her. She kissed him again. “No moving from here until I come get you. No matter how long it takes.” She held his gaze. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I promise.”

 

***

 

FBI Special Agent Jed Brennan did not spend a lot of time hanging around malls—especially not during the run up to Christmas. He’d rather have a root canal.

Officially he was off duty from the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit-4, taking some long-overdue vacation days. Unofficially things were a little more complicated.

His boss had insisted he take some time after using excessive force on a suspect. That’s what you got for punching a wealthy serial killer in the face when you arrested the fucker. No matter Miles Brandon had smacked him so hard his skull still buzzed, or that the guy had tried to slip a slender blade between his ribs. Let alone what he’d done to his unsuspecting pick-ups from DC gay bars. Didn’t matter. Breaking the asshole’s nose was against the rules.

It was a fine line he’d crossed and he doubted ASAC Lincoln Frazer—newly promoted after the old unit leader had unexpectedly retired last week—would have done things different.

Thankfully, he and Frazer were old friends, going back more than a decade to when Jed had been stationed at the Kandahar Air Force Base and had called in the FBI to investigate a suspected serial murderer. The young solider, together with the inexperienced FBI Special Agent, had caught the killer, but Jed had been too late to save Mia, the woman he loved. The case had made Frazer a media superstar, but the guy was a solid investigator who’d devoted his entire life to the BAU.

Friend or no friend, Frazer had the power to not only bench him, but to put him out of the game permanently if he wanted.

There were plenty other federal agents eager to fill Jed’s size eleven boots. So, he’d wait his boss out.

He had cases to work on his own time. He’d make the most of his enforced vacation and visit his family during the festive season. The holidays made humanity’s general bat-shit craziness worse so it was usually hard to take a break then. The world was full of whackos and sadists with nothing better to do than figure out new ways to hurt people. It was his job to keep a lid on the insanity although some days he thought his own head would burst from the horror of it all.

Hell, maybe his boss was right. Maybe he could use some downtime in one of the quietest, most peaceful places on earth—the Northwoods of Wisconsin. The fact he’d have to visit Bobby’s widow and young son was beside the point. He should have done it months ago.

Last night he’d visited an old Army buddy he hadn’t seen in a couple of years—Jack Donovan—who was a homicide detective with Minneapolis PD. Today he was hitting the road for the much shorter drive to America’s Dairyland. It was close enough to Christmas he could nail all his family holiday obligations in one relatively painless swoop. Hence, the mall.

Root canal. Maybe even a flesh wound.

The woman with the bright red hair and intriguing eyes was an unexpected bonus. The asshole who’d knocked her over was oblivious to the damage he’d left in his wake. Jed had been torn between going after him and helping the woman up off the floor. The protective streak he and his brothers had inherited from their father was too ingrained to just abandon her.

He’d been knocked off balance, too, by her beauty. Plus, she had that innate poise and confidence that totally did it for him. He shrugged off a moment of regret that he’d never see her again. He loved women. It was relationships he avoided at all costs. His job wasn’t exactly nine-to-five, and since losing Mia in Afghanistan all those years ago he’d put a firm guard around his heart. Which was exactly how he liked it.

Still, it didn’t hurt to look.

A hunting store caught his eye. Thousands of knives of every size and color.
Oh, yeah
. He went inside and started looking for new knives for his dad and two brothers and a pocket knife with lots of handy gadgets for his mom. Two shops and he’d be done.

Happy Christmas.

BOOM
!

An explosion reverberated from the amusement park rides.
What the…?
Then the sound of shots being fired.
Terrorists or heist? Jed reached for his gun, swore when he realized he wasn’t wearing it. He’d left the SIG locked in the car because he’d wanted to take a whirl on the roller coaster for old times’ sake—something him and Bobby and Liam had always done as teenagers. He hadn’t wanted to be armed with a deadly weapon while experiencing g-force.

He flashed his shield at the store’s security guy. “Call 911 and mall security. Any way out back there?” He pointed to the hidden door at the rear of the shop.

The guy nodded even as he held his cell to his ear. They made their way toward the back of the store. A woman in a black suit, probably the manager, put a key in the lock.

“Hang on. Got any hunting knives behind the counter?” Who knew what lay behind that door? He wanted a weapon. Jed’s car was in the parking lot on the opposite side of the mall, otherwise he’d have gone for his SIG. He eyed the glass cases on the walls. He could smash one open but didn’t want to draw that much attention to himself or the other people hiding here.

The security guy looked at him uncertainly.

Jed thrust his badge closer to the guy’s face. “Off duty FBI Agent. Get me a damn knife…now!” A blade wasn’t much against a sub-machine-gun but it beat the hell out of the plastic toy he currently held. He placed the box on the floor. He’d pick it up later. Hopefully.

Bullets sprayed along the corridor outside, and more sounded from levels above them. People crouched in terrified silence. Piercing screams told him civilians were dying and he was ill-prepared to save any of them until he could get a gun. The security guard hustled behind the desk and handed Jed a knife with a six-inch blade.
Better
.

“What do you want me to do?” the guy asked.

“The mall has its own security, correct?”

The guy nodded but looked uncertain. “Security Center is on this floor. Over near where that first explosion came from. No one answered when I tried to call them.”

Crap
. If these guys took out the security nerve center before they attacked they were highly organized and deadly serious about doing as much damage as possible. Or stealing a massive amount of money with total disregard for public safety.

Jed ran his eyes over the ten or so people milling around uncertainly. “Get them out of here and tell the cops outside what you know. Which other stores along this block have rear exits?”

“Just us and the restaurant at the end of the row. Once you’re in the corridor, there are exits to the parking garages and the loading bays used for deliveries.”

Jed nodded. “Leave the premises ASAP but watch for shooters on the outside. Tell cops there’s an—” he tested the point of the knife with his thumb “—almost unarmed FBI agent inside.”

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the local FBI office. Busy signal. He texted his boss instead and shoved the cell back in his pocket. So much for R&R.

They cautiously unlocked the door at the back of the shop and checked the corridor—clear. The security guard took the lead. Civilians started to pour out, hopefully on their way to safety.

A black shadow passed the front of the store and Jed held his breath. It was the asshole who’d knocked over the pretty redhead. Everyone in the shop froze and then started hustling faster as the guy slowly turned toward them, shouldering an assault rifle and aiming it right between Jed’s eyes. Jed had no choice. He threw himself through the door after the others. He slammed it shut as bullets tore through the walls beside him.

“Run.” He waved the others frantically in the opposite direction. Held his position as he listened closely for footsteps. He’d switched into attack mode and he’d done this sort of drill a million times over. He’d just never done it armed with nothing except a blade, and surrounded by potentially thousands of innocent civilians who could get caught in the crossfire.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

V
ivi quietly closed the sliding door of the cupboard, leaving it slightly ajar so Michael wouldn’t be in complete darkness. Satisfied no one would see him unless they actually opened the cupboard door, she peered up over the service desk.

The mall had gone eerily quiet as if everyone was holding their breath, hiding. No sign of the shooters. She had a horrible vision of the gunmen lying in wait for the unsuspecting shoppers trying to escape. The rides still flashed with bright lights and garish displays, but they’d all stopped moving. Her eyes rose to the roller coaster in the distance. If they’d been on that ride there was a good chance they’d already be dead. Her legs trembled at the awfulness of this moment. She’d seen this stuff on the news, but had never expected to get caught up in it herself. Especially not with her child in tow.

Small pockets of people crouched and hid around the store. She met the terrified eyes of a middle-aged man who clutched a little girl to his side. His eyes seemed to beg her for help but what was she supposed to do? She had no training, no weapons. She nodded to him anyway. She’d do whatever she could to get them out.

At the back door of the shop she used the reflection in some of the windows opposite to look for the bad guys. She stilled when she saw the shooter prowling some distance away down the corridor. The toddler on the floor in front of her started writhing and trying to get free of his mother’s unresponsive arm. Vivi’s eyes flashed back to the shooter. He went into one of the shops and she braced herself to move. Gunshots rang out from inside the store he’d entered.
Don’t think about it.
She ran across to the little boy, dragged him from beneath his mother and picked him up. But a glance in the stroller showed the baby, all pretty in a pink bonnet, eyes wide open, and smiling.

Oh, hell.
She couldn’t leave a baby.

Vivi placed the kid on the floor and he grabbed onto her leg. She pulled away the blankets to undo the straps on the baby harness. Her fingers shook and couldn’t manipulate the hard plastic snaps. She kept looking at the shop where the bad guy had disappeared. More shots. Her blood pounded through her ears so loudly she was deafened to everything but her own erratic heartbeat. Finally she got the catch free and eased the baby onto her shoulder. Then she took the toddler’s hand and urged him to run to the clothes shop immediately in front of them.

She quickly scanned the interior of the store. It was empty of people which gave her hope for escape. She headed through to the changing rooms at the back. The door to the storeroom was firmly locked. She knocked gently and whispered, “Is anyone in there? I have a baby out here. Can you let me in?”

No sound came from behind the door, but the weight of fear hit her in a wave.
Dammit
. She couldn’t blame people for not putting themselves at risk but…

The baby snuggled against her shoulder and started gurgling. Her heart twisted with grief for the mother and for the others who’d already died, for the cruel needless waste of human life. Who were these monsters? What did they want?

She was torn about her decision to leave Michael. So torn she could barely function, but she had to. He was hidden and hopefully safe until she found a way out of here. Being in small compressed spaces comforted him, the tighter the better. But what if something happened to him? Or to her? Doubt and uncertainty whirled inside her brain until her heart raced as if she was about to have a heart attack. She forced herself to calm down. Yoga breaths.
Don’t let these bastards scare you to death.

She opened every unlocked door in the store, but found only small storage spaces. No escape. She went back into the main entrance, crouched low behind the clothes rails. The little tyke held onto her leg in an unbreakable grip and moved like a third leg. She stroked a hand over his curly hair. He was going to be traumatized for life.

Using the reflections in the glass, she once again scanned the corridor. No one was visible. She ran into a restaurant next door and ducked inside. It was dimly lit with lots of alcoves. Probably a good spot to hide, but she didn’t see anyone, which gave her more hope that there was a back way out of this hellhole. If there was, she’d run to get Michael.

She cradled the baby carefully against her shoulder, darting looks around every corner before rushing forward. She reached the kitchen and was hit by a weird combination of smells. Food cooking on the gas burners, mixed with the stench of violent death.

BOOK: Cold Pursuit (Cold Justice) (Volume 2)
3.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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