Kill Zone: A Lucy Guardino FBI Thriller (28 page)

Haddad turned to the Doc. “Maybe he’s lying. Maybe he’s holding out on us.”

Lucy was silent, staring at Andre, waiting for his answer. He raised his left hand, glanced at his watch. She gave him a half-smile and a nod.

“I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” Haddad asked.

Callahan figured it out first. “No. Andre—”

“Too late, Doc. I said I’ll do it.”
 

“How closely can you track a GPS watch?” Lucy asked the guy on her radio.

“Five foot radius in the open air. Inside a building, I can give you horizontal position but won’t be able to give you a vertical one.”
 

“And you’ll give us live time video via the drone?”

“Yep. Colonel Adamson cleared it. I’m afraid there’s not much more in the way of backup available. If you can give me time once we have the location I can try to pull a few bodies.”

“I thought you said things were quieting down out there,” Haddad said.
 

The guy on the radio grew sober. “We lost Zone Five. SWAT teams were storming the sniper positions and they,” he swallowed hard enough that it echoed through the radio, “the Rippers took them out. Rocket-propelled grenades.”

Silence. Andre and Haddad exchanged glances. Firepower like that, they were going to lose a lot more men tonight if they couldn’t find Zapata and stop this.

“Any luck tracing their command center?” Lucy asked.

“No. Closest I’ve been able to narrow it is somewhere in Homewood, Highland Park, East Liberty, or Larimar. Wherever it is, they have it on the move.”

Probably in a van or RV. Something that wouldn’t be noticed—maybe a tractor trailer. That’s what Andre would use.
 

Lucy frowned. The Doc stepped over to her, didn’t touch her, just stood closer. She gave him a grim smile. “Any more bad news?”
 

“The riots and looting have spread. Not to mention the Gangstas seemed to have figured out that this would be a good night to eliminate the competition. There’s a whole gaggle of them headed your way.”
 

“Taylor, as always, you’re the sunshine of my life.”

“Sorry, Boss.”

She turned to the men before her. “Gentlemen, it looks like we have our work cut out for us. And time is growing short.”

Andre began taking his mask off. He remembered Mad Dog’s look of revulsion mixed with fear and pity when he’d seen Andre without it before. He could use that now.

The Doc turned to his wife. “Lucy, there has to be another way.”

She unfolded her legs and jumped to her feet. “Is there any medical reason why he can’t do it?”

“Besides the fact that they’ll kill him?”

Andre stood tall, his mask off, and faced the Doc. “You said I needed to take control of my life. This is me, doing what I want, when I want, how I want.” Callahan opened his mouth to protest. Andre kept going before he could say anything. “My last mission didn’t end up so good. I need a chance to make it up to my men.”

He knew Callahan didn’t agree, he could see it in the Doc’s eyes. But still, he nodded his understanding.
 

Andre turned to Lucy. “Just let me say goodbye to my grams first.”

She nodded. “Of course. We’ll need a few minutes to set up a jailbreak. And I want to talk to the other Rippers, just in case they know something.” Her tone made it clear she wasn’t counting on it.

“Doc, you’ll see that Grams is taken care of, if—” No need to say what the "if" was.

Callahan nodded. “Yes, of course. But Andre, don’t think that way. You’re coming back.”

Andre shrugged. Callahan walked with Andre out the door and up the steps.
 

“I’m serious,” the Doc continued. “If they wanted you dead, they would have killed you already. And Lucy, she’s the best. I’m not just saying that, honest. She won’t stop until she has you and Raziq’s family safe. You actually remind me a little of her.”

“Pig-headed,” Andre quipped, gesturing with the mask still in his hand.

The Doc’s chuckle was a second late in coming. “Yeah. Something like that. Anyway, all you need to do is buy her time.”

“It’s okay, Doc. Really. This is what I’m the best at. I’m just a grunt from Dog Company, but I’m the best goddamn boots on the ground grunt you’ll ever meet. Now, let’s go find my Grams.”

“She’s going to be pissed as hell.”

Andre’s one regret. “Yeah. I know. That’s why I’m bringing you along.”

Chapter 32

Jenna decided that Saint Lucy had officially gone off her rocker when she heard the plan. David was okay with it, as long as it meant he got Raziq and his family back safe and sound. Jenna had no idea what Andre Stone thought—although it would be his ass on the line.

She and David ferried the three Rippers down to the rectory’s basement, keeping the two kids in one room and isolating Mad Dog in the other. She left David interviewing the kids while she went to get Stone. Lord only knew what Lucy was doing, she was holed up in the Tahoe now parked out of sight behind the convent, working with Taylor.

Jenna crossed the small courtyard that separated the church from the convent. The clouds had cleared, the stars were out, a brisk breeze gave the air a pleasant crispness. The scent of smoke only added to the homey atmosphere. No Morgan, not since Jenna had hung up on her earlier, no drunken revelry that she’d regret in the morning, no need to constantly look over her shoulder… why couldn’t it always be like this?

Because Saint Lucy had another windmill to tilt at and Jenna couldn’t let her and David go in alone. Despite his guilt-ridden fixation on Raziq, David was a good guy. She wasn’t about to let Lucy get him killed. And she still needed Lucy alive if she was ever going to get her hands on Morgan. Although somehow that fantasy just didn’t have the power it once had.

She was tired, so tired. Of playing games with Morgan. Of never measuring up to Saint Lucy’s standards. Of feeling so goddamned all alone no matter how many men she fucked.

Jenna sighed, her breath steaming the air in little wisps that blew away like birthday wishes. She entered the convent where one of the nuns pointed her to a small sitting room where Stone sat with a little old lady. He had his mask off and for the first time Jenna saw the extent of his injuries. Jesus. No wonder the guy was off his rocker. To live through that only to find out your men had all died? And then return home and look in the mirror at the evidence of your failure every day?

It was a lot like the way she felt knowing she’d let Morgan get away, free to torture and kill and do whatever she damned well pleased. Jenna couldn’t let the bitch get Lucy because that meant Morgan won. It meant Jenna was a failure.
 

God, life would be so much easier if Lucy had just let her pull that damned trigger last month.
 

Nick stood in the corner of the room watching Stone with the same fatherly look he often gave Jenna. Like he was watching a kid ride his bike down a steep hill for the first time without training wheels. Funny, she’d never thought about him actually caring about other patients the way he cared about her. It made her feel not so special.

“We have to go,” she said brusquely, interrupting Stone’s little goodbye party. Petty, she knew, but they really did need to get started.

Stone leaned forward and whispered a few words into the old lady’s ear, then kissed her on the head as if she was a child. She gripped his arm, finally released him.

“Come home to me, child,” she called as they left the room. “I love you.”

Nick stayed behind, taking Stone’s place, patting the old lady’s arm.
 

“That’s your grandmother?” Jenna made conversation as she led him back outside. “She going to be okay?”

“She’s tougher than most Marines I know, so yeah.” He glanced over his shoulder one last time as the door shut behind them. “You the one I’ll be wrestling the shotgun from?”

“Yeah. Lucy thought it might look more realistic if you tackled me instead of Haddad.” They walked around behind the convent to where Lucy had parked the Tahoe. She held a finger up for them to wait, finished talking with Taylor, and joined them.

“Andre, Taylor has the software for your watch loaded onto all of our cell phones and he’ll be tracking you as well, so we’ll all know where you are at any moment. If you get into trouble and need us to come in heavy, just take the watch off. We’ll know as soon as we lose the signal,” Lucy said.

“What if they take the watch from me?” he asked.

“They’d only do that if they suspect something, which would mean you need us to get you out.” Lucy opened the Tahoe’s hatch and grabbed the only weapon left inside: a shotgun loaded with nonlethal beanbag rounds. “Be sure you’re the one who grabs the shotgun from Jenna and fires at her. If you can, miss in a way that Mad Dog can’t see where the shot went. If you can’t, hit her in her vest.”

He turned to Jenna. “You okay with that? These things pack a punch.”

Nice of someone to ask. Jenna rapped her knuckles against the ceramic plates of her ballistic vest. “I’m tougher than I look.”

He returned her smile. In the dim light, even with his smile twisted and crooked, something about his eyes gave her a glimpse of the man he was before. She thought she would have liked to have met that man.

Lucy double-checked that the load was non-lethal. She practically vibrated with adrenalin. Jenna was surprised her hair didn’t stand on end from all the energy spilling out from her. Now wouldn’t that be a sight?
 

Lucy gave Jenna the shotgun and continued her briefing, barely taking a breath between sentences. “Either way, Jenna will fall so Mad Dog won’t be able to see the wound or the lack of blood. Then you guys run. I left the van out front—”

“No way he’ll want to take that piece of crap,” Stone said. “Too easy to follow.”

“Exactly. So you’ll go through the pedestrian gate and head out on foot. My hope is that he’ll grab the Escalade we left at Kujo’s. If not, take any vehicle. I don’t care as long as he’s convinced that he needs to take you to Darius before we catch you.”

“Don’t worry. I can make it happen.”

From where she stood behind Lucy, Jenna gave a small shake of her head. She couldn’t believe the guy was going along with this crazy, jacked up plan. It was suicide.

But then again, she couldn’t believe she was either. Lucy was going to owe her big time after this.

<><><> 

As Jenna shoved Andre down the stairs beneath the rectory, Andre could hear Lucy and Haddad arguing inside the classroom. They’d put the two kids in the bathroom and barricaded them inside, leaving Mad Dog in a second, smaller classroom behind the first. Where hopefully he heard everything.

“I have him dead to rights on threatening a federal agent, terroristic activities, kidnapping, and felony assault,” Lucy yelled. “He’s mine.”

“No way. I’m the one he threatened, it’s my call,” Haddad returned. “We let the locals pick him up for murder. I’m not letting those two little girls’ deaths go unpunished while he serves time in the federal system. Pennsylvania has the death penalty, I say we let them use it.”

“C’mon, you really think he’ll last a week in prison? Looking like that?”

“I want him going down for murder.”

Andre stumbled. Haddad’s voice dripped with ice. Guy was telling the truth—he really, really wanted whoever killed those girls punished. If it went down the way Lucy had said, Andre couldn’t blame him.

Jenna shoved him past the door to the first classroom where Lucy and Haddad continued their argument.
 

“Make it look good,” she whispered. She reached to open the door. He could have taken her then, but the timing didn’t feel right. He needed Mad Dog prepped first. She pushed him inside the room, slammed the door behind him, and locked the door.

The room was set up for younger kids. No desks, just tiny chairs on a foam rug covered with cartoon characters. Walls lined with plastic bins of coloring supplies, finger paint. And Mad Dog. Sitting on a desk shoved into the corner, hands restrained behind him, yet somehow he looked as cocky as he did when he’d grabbed Andre off the street earlier.

“They got a hard-on for you, dawg,” Mad Dog drawled.
 

Andre looked over his shoulder at the closed door. Lucy and Haddad could still be heard shouting at each other, now arguing about who out-ranked who.

“Sonsofbitches setting me up for murder,” Andre said. It wasn’t hard letting traces of both fear and venom leak into his voice. The emotions were honest. “Say I killed a couple of girls. Tried to blow up some DEA agent. They’re talking the fuckin’ death penalty, man.”

“Too bad we can’t do something about that.”

Andre slumped against the wall. Conscious of Mad Dog watching him, he raised his ziptied wrists to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

“What happened to your mask?” Mad Dog asked.

“Bitch took it. Said I’d best get used to showing my face cuz they won’t let me have it in prison.” Andre looked over his shoulder at the door, letting a touch of fear show.