Cheating Justice (The Justice Team) (33 page)

The DAG turned back to Mitch. “That’s where it got interesting. Tommy sent me an email—
me
—asking me to look into the operation. Then he wouldn’t stop. That prick rattled every cage available. He had to go. Atkinson wasn’t too happy about it, but what choice did he have? He’d already strong-armed the gun shop owners. And his brother was on the hook with us. Hell, he’s the top federal law enforcement officer for New Mexico and he was letting guns walk. Sacrificing the reputation and life of one agent was nothing to those boys.”

The son of a bitch set Tommy up and made it look like he went rogue and was selling ATF confiscated guns.

The DAG’s smile widened. He enjoyed gloating over his success. “Atkinson wasn’t as bright as I’d hoped. He left the gun on Tommy’s body to make it look like the exchange had gone wrong and the gunrunner had offed your friend.” He touched his temple. “I knew when the ballistics came back on the gun, it could be traced to Lando, so I took a precaution and ordered the file sealed.”

Mitch’s guts cramped. “How many other people has Atkinson killed for you?”

“Only Agent Nusco.”

At the look of hatred Mitch gave him, Straling shrugged. “Nusco was going to blow the whole thing. I couldn’t let that happen. Too many people were counting on me.”

“Like the president?”

“The election is only weeks away. We’re going to win it.”

Mitch rolled his head, trying to shake the fog loose. “So President Perkins agreed to your plan because it would help him get reelected.”

Straling moved to the far side of what would have been the living room. A filthy, sheer curtain hung on the window, and a moment later Cobra and Hippy dragged Maria into the kitchen from what must have been the bedroom.

Dirty and bruised, she staggered in, her bottom lip bleeding and swelled. Her eyes were ringed with red from crying. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, looking at Mitch. “I’m so sorry.”

The DAG walked to her and snapped his fingers at Cobra. “Hand me your gun.”

Maria jerked back, her gaze whipping to Straling’s face. Hippy held her in place as Cobra handed over his weapon.

“Wait,” Mitch said, struggling against his ties. “The only way to get Jesse to come in is if she’s still alive.”

Straling gave Mitch a
boy, are you stupid
look. “That may be true, but like I said, Jesse isn’t that bright. He won’t talk, but his sister here? She will. She’s already told you and Agent Foster what she knows.”

“You can’t kill all of us,” Mitch said.

The DAG smiled. “Agent Foster will keep her mouth shut or her dear father will pay the price. You’re wanted for murder, so you’ll be going to prison for a very long time. And if you open your mouth and say one word about this?” He raised the gun and put it to Maria’s temple. “This is what I’ll do to your girlfriend.”

Mitch yelled Maria’s name, but all he heard was the gun going off.

“Gunshot! Go!”

Grey’s voice thundered through the phone and adrenalin poured into Caroline’s brain. She blinked twice, focused on the shot.

Take the shot.

Not ready. Not ready. Caroline drew a breath, letting half of it out and holding the rest as her target turned to a side profile and swung his gun to Mitch. Screaming in her head, relentless and demanding, pounded at her to take the shot because Mitch was about to die and she was in a full blown panic. Her heart slammed—
take the shot—
stealing her breath, trapping all that good, healthy oxygen inside her.
Take the shot
. She blinked.
Not ready
. But Mitch couldn’t die. Not in front of her. Not when she could have stopped it.

But what if she missed?

No missing. When’s the last time she’d missed?

She centered her target’s temple in her crosshairs—
not ready, stay still
. But that gun was pointed straight at Mitch. She squeezed the trigger and…
boom!

Across the street, the window shattered and her target leaped toward the door,

Shit
.

Missed.
Go
. She racked the bolt back, ejected the spent case, shoved it forward and chambered another round. The second target drew a weapon, pointed it at Mitch.

Quick bursts of air shot from her lungs and she concentrated on controlling her breathing. In, out, in, out, in, out. The chaos in her mind tunneled into sharp focus. The window, the distance.

Go.

One. More. Try. She found the spot on her target’s head where, when hit, his reflexes wouldn’t cause his body to flinch and fire the weapon in his grasp.

She squeezed the trigger.

Boom.

The shot connected and the target dropped. “Target two down! First one on the move. Go!”

“On it,” Grey said, his voice calm and controlled.

Caroline sat back, propped herself against the low wall and blocked out the screaming while her tightly wound energy unraveled and spewed inside her.
Breathe
.

From somewhere, a siren sounded. Unrelated maybe. She didn’t know. Didn’t care. In a minute she’d make her way to the street.

In a minute.

Right now, all she knew was she’d just made the shot of her life.

Chapter Twenty-four

Mitch wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. Maria was down, the goon’s body on top of her, and Straling had jumped clear. Someone had fired a shot through the window and glass lay on the floor at Mitch’s feet…and if he took a guess, he’d bet Caroline had something to do with the bullet in Cobra’s brain.

His heart jack-hammered and he tried to stand. His legs were tied to the chair, his hands cuffed behind him, and his balance was totally off. He nearly toppled left, then right and realized he couldn’t feel his feet. His circulation had been cut off for too long and everything below his waist was numb.

Just inside the threshold leading to the hall, Straling, coward that he was, squirmed along on his belly. Another few feet and he’d be out of sight from the window and would bolt.

Numbness in his feet or not, Mitch had to tackle him before he got clear of the doorway.

In the distance, he heard a siren. Reinforcements. Good. Toppling into the counter, he bounced off, and propelled himself into the hallway. He went down hard on his knees, the chair seat cutting sharply into the back of his legs. A grunt left his cracked lips and his center of gravity shifted. Sweat poured down his face as pain knifed at him, plunging deeper and deeper. Three feet away, Straling continued to squirm.

Mitch held his breath, readied his body for the second attack and hurled forward. He ended up on the DAG’s back, the chair with his ass tied to it rising into the air. His forehead smacked into the back of the DAG’s head and his already busted nose sent a fresh, sharp stab of pain into his frontal lobe.

“Well, that’s an interesting interrogation pose,” a voice said as a pair of black leather dress shoes came into Mitch’s view.

He knew that voice. In fact, it might be the best voice he’d heard in the past few hours. “Grey? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Saving your ass.” Grey’s hands wrapped around Mitch and lifted him back into a sitting position. Mitch’s cracked ribs screamed in pain. “Again.”

Grey shoved his hoof into the DAG’s back and put his Glock to the back of the man’s skull. “Move again and I put a bullet in you.”

The DAG stayed put as Grey cuffed him. Grey started on Mitch’s ties, but Mitch shook him off. “Check Maria. She’s under Cobra.”

Grey didn’t question the goon’s nickname. The wrist restraints came free and Grey made quick work of the ankle restraints as well. “Here. Keep an eye on this asshole while I check her.”

Mitch flexed his fingers twice and took over Grey’s sidearm.

Blood and brain matter were splattered on the wall, a chunk of Cobra’s bald head gone. Grey quickly shifted the big man off the smaller body underneath and bent down.

Hard to tell where Cobra’s blood stopped and Maria’s blood began. Grey searched for a pulse on Maria’s neck, and after a second, his head snapped up. “She’s alive. Barely, but still hanging on.”

“Call 9-1-1.”

“Already did.” Grey gently repositioned Maria, then stripped his dress shirt off and used it to staunch Maria’s bleeding. “Caroline’s across the street. She took out your friend here. You two need to bug out and see Connor Lane at Justice. Immediately. I’ve already alerted him that we have a new witness and we’re expediting the meeting. He’s waiting for your call and will meet you at his office. Leave dumbass here and I’ll have the PD hold him until I hear from you.”

Mitch had known Grey for a handful years. Years that had tested both of them to the extreme. They knew each other’s demons, understood what made the other tick. Grey pursued justice above everything else. It’s what drove him to be the man he was.

It took a lot to push Justice Greystone over the edge, but Mitch could see the truth in his friend’s eyes. If he turned Grey loose on Straling, the DAG wouldn’t live to see that day’s sunset.

Caroline and a few others might find it hard to believe, but vigilante justice had never appealed to Mitch. From the time he was a kid, he’d always wanted to work for the FBI. To bring criminals to justice but assure they were tried and sentenced fairly. Yes, he had a problem with authority, and yes, he liked to do things his own way, but when it came to the United States Constitution and the justice system, he still believed that everyone had rights and even the criminals deserved a trial by their peers.

Mitch rubbed his wrists, avoiding the open wounds the plastic cuffs had caused. He tested out his legs. Wobbly, and his feet were asleep, but now that he could stand up straight, his circulation would solve those issues.

“No. I’m not letting the son of a bitch out of my sight. He’s coming with me. Caroline and I will take care of him.” Mitch forced Straling to rise and shoved him toward the stairs. “You make sure our star witness here lives.”

Caroline tore through the back door of the manufacturing plant, gun case slung across her body. Grey had called and said Mitch, along with the handcuffed DAG, would meet her at the car. For extra caution, she weaved through the clump of trees running the length of the block. No sense being seen now. Although, with the bloodbath they’d just created, she wasn’t sure being noticed mattered.

All she could hope was that they were right about this cover-up. At the very least, she’d acted accordingly. She’d witnessed a woman getting shot and Mitch was next. Caroline had to act. Had to.

Still, with the DAG involved, this would be a media feast. They’d pick the meat right off her bones. At the very least, her job was gone.

She could always go back to teaching.

Her ankle caught on a branch and twisted, sending spikes of pain through her foot and up her calf. Damn. She winced, but kept moving.

Get to Mitch
.

That’s all she needed to do. Just get to Mitch.

At the car, she popped the trunk and stowed her gun case.

“Caroline!”

Mitch. And, God, the sound of his voice felt like a warm sun after a hard winter. She slammed the trunk and there he was, walking toward her, his steps faltering on every other one, favoring his one side, but shoving Straling along with him.

Even twenty feet away she saw the blood. Dried and fresh streaming down his cheeks. Reddish-brown streaks covered the front of his T-shirt as if he’d used it to wipe his face clean.

And his nose was bent sideways.

Jesus, God, what they did to him
. Bile backed up in her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut. Getting emotional was the dead last thing she should do. But she loved this man, and seeing him in this condition and not getting emotional would make her the coldest bitch living.

She opened her eyes and ran to him, meeting him near the front bumper of Grey’s car. Up close, the wounds were worse. Open cuts on his left eye and lips and a gash down his right cheek. She lifted her hands to cradle his cheeks, but he blocked her.

“I’m a mess.”

“I’m so sorry. I can’t believe they did this to you.”

“We have to go. Grey said Connor Lane is waiting on us. Straling here is coming.”

He wanted to meet with the head of the Office of Special Counsel at the Justice Department looking like this? “Mitch, you need a hospital. And Straling is
coming
?”

“I’ll live. It’s a busted nose and maybe a couple of ribs. We can deal with it later. Just get our prisoner into the car because until we figure this out, he’s not leaving my sight. Check the child safety locks so he can’t get out. I lifted a couple of pairs of the flexi-cuffs off one of the goons. See what we can cuff him to in the back seat. No chances.”

It took all of three minutes for her to engage the safety locks and truss Straling up like the pig he was. Mitch stood guard making sure Straling didn’t try anything, but really, in his condition, she wasn’t sure how much he’d actually be able to do.

“We’re already behind,” he said. “Can you drive?”

Oddly, that made her laugh. She always wanted to drive. “Of course.”

She walked Mitch around to the passenger side. Getting inside the car turned out to be an effort and he hissed out a breath the minute his butt hit the seat. “Goddammit, I’m busted up.”