Cut and Run (29 page)

Noooo!

But her scream never left her throat.

22

Scott looked at the IEDs that lay on the dining room table. “That went a lot quicker than I’d hoped. Thanks for the help.”

Ethan smirked. “Anything for a good cause.”

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

Scott was reaching for one of the homemade explosive devices when Ethan’s phone rang.

Ethan pulled it from his pocket and looked at the display. Frowning, he answered it. “Tori? Something wrong?”

Immediately, Scott froze and watched as Ethan listened intently.

“Shit!” Ethan cursed and met Scott’s inquisitive gaze.

Unease crept up Scott’s spine. “What?”

Ethan held up his hand, then said to Tori, “Come back immediately. Make sure nobody’s following you.” He hung up.

“What’s going on? Why is she coming back?”

“Tori got to the motel. She found the door to Phoebe’s room open.”

Scott’s heart stopped.

“The room was empty. There was evidence of a struggle. And her handbag was emptied out on the bed.”

An icy hand wrapped around his heart and cut off his air supply. “Shit! He’s got Phoebe. The assassin has got Phoebe.” Scott ran a shaky hand through his hair, his mind working overtime, searching for a solution.

“You can’t know that,” Ethan said, trying to calm him.

Scott glared at him. “But I
do
know! I saw it coming. I saw his hands around her neck.”

“Ah, shit! You had a premonition? Then why did you leave her alone?”

“I left her because I thought she was safe in Memphis. This wasn’t supposed to happen here. That’s why I put out the bait to trap him here. So he’d never have a chance to get to her. I was trying to stop the premonition from coming true.”

“You know where it’s supposed to happen?”

Scott nodded. “He’s taking her to Nashville. And once he realizes I’m not there, and Phoebe won’t tell him where to find me, he’s going to strangle her.” The thought chilled him to the bone. He met Ethan’s eyes. “This is my fault. She’s in danger because of me. I have to get to her before he kills her.”

“Nashville?” Ethan asked.

“Yes, why?”

“Tori pressed the redial button of the phone in Phoebe’s room. It went to the Nashville Police Department.”

“Shit, do you think the assassin was trying to call somebody there?”

Ethan shook his head. “He would have used a burner phone. More likely Phoebe tried to call somebody there. Does she know anybody in Nashville?”

“I don’t know. She never mentioned anything.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make inquiries while we’re on the road. Let’s get going.”

~ ~ ~

By the time Tori returned with the car, Scott and Ethan had packed up all incriminating materials, including the homemade bombs. Moments later, they’d piled in the car and Tori dropped Scott off at the diner where he’d parked his motorcycle. Scott sped off, ignoring all rules of traffic, while Tori and Ethan followed by car.

It was almost midnight when they reached Nashville. At a gas station, Scott pulled over and waited for Tori and Ethan to stop beside him. Tori was driving, and Ethan lowered the window. He balanced a laptop connected to his cell phone on his legs.

“What did you find?” Scott asked, praying that the information he’d given Ethan before they’d left had borne fruit. He’d given him the details of the surroundings he’d glimpsed in his vision so Ethan could find the place where the assassin was holding Phoebe prisoner.

“I scanned Google Maps. I think I found something that matches your description,” he said.

“Show it to me.” Scott leaned his head closer, and Ethan tilted the screen so Scott could see it through the open window.

“Here.” Ethan pointed to a spot on the street view of a Google Map. “You said you saw a tower with AT&T on it. There are numerous angles from which you can see it. It’s downtown. Does this look familiar?”

Scott perused the scene on the monitor. With his finger, he swiped over the touchpad, moving the images so he was able to get a 360 degree view of the area. “He must be somewhere near the Convention Center. Possibly on Broadway or Commerce Street. He was on an upper floor, maybe fourth or fifth. Perhaps a hotel. Anything else about who Phoebe might know in Nashville?”

Ethan nodded. “She grew up here. And guess what? Her father works for the police.”

“He’s a police officer?”

Ethan shook his head. “No, he’s some PR guy the police hired. He works out of the downtown precinct, a station on Broadway. It looks like Phoebe was trying to reach him there.”

“The assassin must think she was trying to reach me.”

“It’s odd, but it’s a possibility. Particularly because it looks like your message to the Deep Web didn’t post in time.”

Scott stared at Ethan in disbelief. “What?”

“Yeah, I checked an hour ago, and it posted at 6pm
Pacific Time
, not Central Time. I think your guy screwed up.”

“Shit, no wonder the assassin didn’t show up at the house.” He cursed. “Let’s go. Can you try to see if you can reach Phoebe’s father?”

“Will do.”

“Just don’t—”

Ethan lifted his hand. “No worries. I know the drill. I’ll make sure he doesn’t suspect anything.”

“Thanks. Follow me.”

Scott turned the handlebar and sped away. He’d been to Nashville once before and knew how to get downtown. The assassin couldn’t have more than an hour head start, if that much. After all, they’d gunned it all the way from Memphis and made it in record time.

~ ~ ~

Phoebe groaned. Her face ached from the blow the assassin had knocked her out with, but otherwise she was unhurt. However, there was no chance of escape. She was still handcuffed. On top of it, she sat in the back of a police car. She had to admit the assassin was clever. Even if she tried to draw attention to herself by gesturing to any passersby as they drove through Nashville, nobody would lift a finger to help her. After all, they probably thought she was a criminal. Why else would she be in the back of a police car?

She remained quiet, contemplating her next course of action, when a cell phone rang. The assassin answered it.

“Yes?”

A short pause, then he replied, “I’ve got the reporter… No, but I’ll have him shortly. He’s in Nashville… Don’t worry, he’ll be dead soon, just like you ordered… Yes, the woman too. No loose ends.”

A chill went through her bones but she pushed it away, knowing she had to stay strong if she wanted to survive.

Her abductor disconnected the call and put his phone back into his jacket pocket. She made a note of it. Maybe later she would have an opportunity to steal it and call for help. Phoebe stared out the window. Downtown was hopping with tourists enjoying the nightlife.

A moment later, her kidnapper turned off busy Broadway and entered a side street. A block farther, he pulled into a parking garage and drove up to the fifth level. He pulled into the first empty parking spot and killed the engine.

He turned around to glance at her before exiting the car. For a moment, she wondered if he was going to leave her locked in the police car, but she wasn’t that lucky. He opened the door and reached for her, pulling her out. Not being able to use her hands for balance, she stumbled over her own feet and fell forward. He grabbed her and jerked her up.

“Let’s go!” he ground out. “One wrong word out of you, and you’re dead. Are we clear on that?”

She could only nod. Judging by the evil glint in his eyes, there was no doubt he would make good on his threat.

“Good.” He turned her around, uncuffing her, only to cuff her hands again, this time in the front. Then he pulled his cell phone from his jacket and shoved it at her. “Call him! Tell him you need to see him!”

Phoebe stared at the phone in her hands, hesitating. She didn’t have Scott’s number. He’d never given it to her. In fact, she’d never seen him use a cell phone.

The assassin brought his face close to hers, glaring at her. “Don’t think I’m stupid! I know he’s somewhere in this town. And you’re going to bring him to me. Now!”

“Where do you want him to go?” she stalled.

He dragged her to the edge of the building, where a light breeze blew past the concrete columns holding up the structure, and pointed down to the street level. “Have him go to the roof bar of Tootsies.”

Phoebe looked to the street corner. The roof of a two-story building was hopping with activity. At least three or four dozen partiers were celebrating. From where she and the assassin stood, they had a clear line of sight to it. Any sharpshooter worth his salt would hit his target at this range.

Trembling, she dialed the number for the Nashville Police Department. Before the call connected, he hit the speaker button, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Nashville Police Department, how may I direct your call?” a woman’s voice answered.

“Officer Thompson, please.” Phoebe crossed her fingers, hoping that Scott’s last name was just common enough for there to be an Officer Thompson in the Nashville Police Department.

“One moment, please.”

The assassin glared at her. “Remember, one false word.” The threat was clear.

Her heart bled; guilt crept up from her gut. She was going to send an innocent man into harm’s way.

“Thompson,” a man answered.

“Scott, listen, it’s me, Phoebe. I need to see you right away.”

“Excuse me? I’m not S—”

“Please don’t say anything; I know you can’t talk freely. Just listen. Come to the rooftop bar of—”

A blow to her face cut off her last word while the line went dead.

“You fucking bitch! That wasn’t Scott! That was an old man.” He glared at her, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head. “I’ll find him myself, you fucking bitch! I won’t need you any longer!”

He slammed her onto the hood of the police car and dove after her.

Fear paralyzed her. She would die here, alone, in a dark parking garage.

~ ~ ~

Scott brought the Ducati to a stop in the middle of the block and looked around. They were near Broadway, and despite the late hour the streets were busy with tourists and locals who hopped from one bar to the next.

The area looked familiar. His eyes drifted up. He scanned one building after another, trying to find what he’d seen in his premonition. Behind him, Tori and Ethan had parked and were waiting for his lead.

Suddenly the side of a building drew his attention.
Tootsies
,
it said there. He lifted his gaze. A roof terrace bar. He’d seen it before. Frantically he shifted on the bike, looking over his shoulder to find the right angle from where he’d seen it. Somewhere from high up.

It was dark back there, but he could make out the top of a building peeking from behind another one. A parking structure. That had to be it.

He turned his bike around, not waiting for Tori to make a U-turn with the car, and sped toward the building. When he spotted the entrance to the parking garage, he drove in and raced from floor to floor.

At each parking level he stopped for a split second, finding the view of the rooftop bar, but all the way up to the forth level another building was blocking the view. He sped up to the fifth level, hoping in his heart that his hunch was right, and that he’d found the correct place.

Silhouetted against the dim light in the garage, a police officer was hunching over the hood of a police car, his torso obstructed by the car itself. Scott skidded to a halt when the man lifted his head and whirled in Scott’s direction.

The moment they met eyes, Scott knew he’d found his man. Though he’d not seen the assassin’s face in his vision, he recognized when somebody was caught in a heinous act. And now, he also saw the legs that kicked out from underneath the policeman. Phoebe! She was struggling to free herself.

“Phoebe!” Scott screamed, but knew his helmet muffled the sound. He revved up the engine and raced toward the police car.

Just short of it, he swerved and made the Ducati slither to the ground while he jumped off. As he rolled between the police car and another parked car, he saw the assassin release his hold on Phoebe and pull his gun from the holster.

A shot echoed in the garage, hitting a car.

Scott’s helmet obstructed his view and hindered his movement, so he jerked it off and let it roll out from his hiding place. The assassin fired another shot, hitting the helmet, making it slide farther.

Scott drew his Glock from the holster he’d put on before heading into Nashville. Tonight it wasn’t about killing silently, but about killing swiftly.

“I have your girlfriend, Thompson!” the assassin warned.

A shriek from Phoebe confirmed the statement.

Scott spied under the car and watched as Phoebe’s feet touched the ground, the assassin’s feet behind her. He was dragging her in front of him, using her as a shield now as he moved toward the lane beyond the parked cars.

“Come out, Thompson, or I’ll kill her.”

“What guarantee do I have that you won’t kill her anyway?”

The assassin chuckled coldly. “None.”

Scott had figured as much.

“Toss your weapon this way.”

No fucking way!

Both he and Phoebe would be as good as dead if he did. Instead, Scott unsheathed his knife and tossed it out, using the couple of seconds it took the assassin’s eyes to spot the item to silently creep toward the hood of the police car which was only about two feet away from the wall of the building.

“Bad move, Thompson!”

There was a click. The assassin had cocked his gun.

Knowing he had only a split second, Scott dove to the other side of the car and aimed. The assassin stood sideways with Phoebe pressed to his front.

Before Scott could fire his weapon, a car sped up to the fifth level and its bright headlights shone right at the assassin. The assassin twisted and tossed Phoebe toward the oncoming car, his gun aimed at her back.

Scott pulled the trigger. His shot hit the assassin in the back. As car tires screeched to a halt, the assassin just stood there. Afraid that he might still manage to fire a shot at Phoebe, Scott aimed higher. Blood splattered as the bullet hit the assassin in the back of the head.