Kill Zone: A Lucy Guardino FBI Thriller (31 page)

She smiled, forgiving him. Despite the long night, she still looked refreshed, her navy slacks sharply creased, white blouse crisp, navy veil falling in unwrinkled folds to her shoulder. He couldn’t tell her age; he often had that problem with nuns. Why was it priests always looked older than they were but nuns younger?

“I brought you a fresh thermos of coffee and some cinnamon buns straight from the oven.” Hell was breaking loose under their feet and the nuns were baking? No wonder Lucy had lost her faith. Or maybe that was a reason to keep the faith. More paradoxes his mind couldn't hold together.

“Thank you.” His voice had a tremor. Hard to talk when your teeth were clenched. He had a new appreciation for Lucy’s chronic TMJ symptoms. He had a feeling that after tonight he would see a lot of Lucy’s world in a different light. If only, please God, she made it back to him alive. See, there was that Faith again. Only maybe it was more like foxhole religion.

“Is there anything you need before we go out?” Patrice asked.

“No. I’m fine—wait, go where?”

She pointed to the east. “We got word there are families trapped in the Terraces.” The public housing a few blocks over. “Gangstas breaking in, terrorizing them, looking for Rippers and drugs.”

“You can’t go out there,” he protested.

“They don’t have a way out. We’ll pick them up in the van, bring them back here where they’ll be safe.”

“No, Sister. You can’t. You need—” He picked up the gun. It felt very small, no protection against what was going on out there. Better than nothing. “I’ll come along. Guard you.”

She shook her head as if chiding a child who’d gotten his catechism wrong. “No, Nick. You stay here. Bringing a gun will only make things worse.”

“But—no. You don’t understand. The Gangstas will kill you. You need protection.”

Her smile was both patient and forgiving. She said nothing, simply touched the cross around her neck, its plain silver glinting in the faint moonlight.
 

To think he’d once accused Lucy of magical thinking. Sister Patrice vanished down the steps as he stood, holding the gun, torn between racing after her and staying to watch over the people she was leaving behind.
 

Finally he ran after her, the gun clutched tighter than ever in his hand.

<><><> 

No sign of Raziq or Zapata. Andre slowed his steps as they passed the tables. Darius looked back. “Hurry up.”

The two goons stayed at his side. He needed to help Fatima get out of here—but doing that meant sacrificing his chance to be extracted. Once he ditched the watch Lucy and her team would have no idea where he was—or their real targets, Raziq and Zapata.

Was he seriously going to blow the op to save the family of the man who’d massacred his men?

The watch was off his wrist and in his hand before he even had a chance to answer his own question.
 

Sorry guys, it’s the right thing to do,
he thought as he turned one way, startling his guards and diverting their attention, while tossing the watch onto the grass in the other direction.

“Where are we going?” he asked to cover his movement.
 

He wasn’t really expecting an answer, wasn't even sure if it was worth continuing with the act. Darius looked back over his shoulder. “You were Dog Company in the Marines, right? That’s what they called you?”

What the hell did that have to do with anything? “Yeah. So?”

They came to a fork in the path in front of the large glass pyramid that was the Primate Habitat. Darius turned left.
 

“Then I guess you could say you’re going to a family reunion.” The smile he shot Andre revealed both rows of teeth. If you shook hands with a man smiling like that, you’d count all your fingers after. “Only you’re the main course.” Darius laughed. The sound would have been at home among the hyenas except Andre didn’t see any on display. Instead the nearest sign said African Painted Dogs.

"Cut the joking, Darius," Andre protested, staying in character even though he knew it was useless.

"No joke, Andre." Darius strolled down the path as his men prodded Andre with their guns, forcing him to follow.

“Dog meat” had been his drill sergeant’s favorite name for his recruits. Andre could only hope Lucy and her team got here before that became literal.

Chapter 36

Lucy and Nick had taken Megan to a special nighttime event at the zoo when they first moved to Pittsburgh. It’d been a fun way to see the animals—the darkness made walking among the wildlife feel exciting and exotic.
 

When she’d pulled up the map of the attacks on the city earlier, she’d noted the lack of activity surrounding Ruby Avenue but had totally discounted the huge swath of land bordering the Allegheny River where the zoo was located. She had to admit it was a brilliant strategy, using the zoo as a staging area. Low priority as a target of concern to law enforcement, no one would think twice about any activity at night, easy access to the river, major highways, and all parts of the city.

“Andre just drove in through an employee entrance,” Taylor reported. “They have guards on the gate, so I’m going to route you to a spot nearby where you can climb over the wall.”

“We’re not going to end up in the lions’ den, are we?” Jenna quipped, her voice high-strung and nervous. Gearing up for action.

“No. You’ll be between the bears and the gate. So try to stay low and quiet.”

His directions took them off road and out of sight of the guards. Lucy parked the Tahoe alongside the eight-foot high concrete wall.
 

They hopped out, grabbed their weapons. “Raziq was spotted here, in front of the aquarium.” Lucy pointed to a spot on the map displayed on her phone. “Secure him, destroy their operations center, and then once you’re clear, join me. I’ll be following Andre’s signal.”

Haddad said nothing, just nodded. Jenna cleared her throat. “What if the mother and baby aren’t with Raziq? Should we keep looking for them before we take out the command center?”

Lucy had thought about that. No way was she giving up on Fatima and the baby—but she had a responsibility to Andre to keep him safe. And she had to consider the rest of the city. “No. Cutting their communications takes priority. That’s our best hope of stopping any further attacks they have planned. Last thing we need is a three-day siege like in Mumbai.”

Jenna nodded. She and Haddad climbed to the top of the Tahoe and then over the wall. Just as Lucy was getting ready to follow, Taylor broke radio silence.

“Lucy, I just lost Andre’s heart rate monitor,” he said in a breathless whisper. “That’s the panic signal, right?”

“Give me the coordinates.” Lucy hustled up onto the Tahoe and over the wall. If Andre’s watch stopped broadcasting, it meant he'd either found Fatima and the baby and was ready for them to come in… or he was dead.

<><><> 

Jenna lay on her belly in the tall grass at the edge of the wide paved path leading around the zoo. David lay alongside her, scouting the RV with Lucy’s night vision monocular. “No guards on the outside. Lights on inside, but I can’t tell how many people are in there.”

“How do you want to work this?” She slung her AR-15 behind her and drew her SIG. The RV was too small for the rifle to be useful.

“We set up on each side. I throw a flash-bang in through the main door and you go in the driver’s door. Meet in the middle.”

Except in a RV the “middle” was about six feet away. She didn’t like the idea of firing weapons in such close quarters. “Just make sure you don’t shoot me.”

“Make sure you don’t shoot Raziq,” he cautioned her.
 

Shit, that reminded her. “Can we use a flash-bang if the baby’s in there?”

He hesitated, glanced through the monocular one more time, obviously re-thinking his plan. “You’re right. We’ll have to just chance it without. Go in, neutralize any of Zapata’s men, grab the friendlies. Once they’re out, we’ll take care of the communications equipment.”

She nodded. “Signal?”

“I’ll toss a pebble at you when I’m set to go.”

A nicely timed cloud slid over the moon and she used its concealment to sprint across the path to the driver’s side of the RV. The driver’s door was unlocked; she hoped the main door on David's side was as well.

A pebble flew over the RV’s hood and landed at her feet. She yanked the door open and jumped up onto the driver’s seat, weapon raised and aimed towards the men in the rear compartment just as David crashed through the main door.

“Federal agents. Hands where we can see them,” he shouted.

Jenna covered the two men sitting at the table directly behind the driver’s seat. They looked up over the computer equipment filling the space between them, surprised. One made a move for a semi-automatic pistol on the table but Jenna shook her head at him and he raised his hands high instead.

On the far side of the door, Raziq sat on a sofa across the room from David. Beside Raziq was a Hispanic male who had a laptop propped up on a chair in front of him. He looked at Raziq then at David and finally raised his hands.

“Rashid,” David said, relief lowering his voice. “It’s good to see you, old friend. Wait outside and we’ll go find Fatima and the baby.”

Raziq looked shocked. He sat for a moment. Jenna wanted to prod him, they didn’t have a lot of time here. What if one of Zapata’s men stumbled by?

Finally he stood and gave David a smile and a nod. He seemed choked up, as if he didn’t trust his voice. Jenna could understand that. She remembered how overwhelming her emotions had been when she was captured and rescued last month.

Raziq took the three steps needed to reach David at the door. David moved forward to keep his man covered and give Raziq room to go out the door. Raziq stumbled, bumping into David.

The gunshot was so loud in the confined area that Jenna reacted instinctively, aiming her weapon at each of her subjects. Neither had moved. She whirled to take care of the guy on the couch. She fired twice at him, but he was already on the ground. Had David shot him? How did she miss that?

No, David was down, on his knees, and Raziq held his M4.
 

Then Raziq took his other hand from his pocket. Holding a small pistol.

That’s when she saw the blood spraying from David’s mouth as it opened and closed, no sound coming.

As her mind tried to process all the contradictory information, Raziq whirled on her, raising the M4.
 

“Drop it,” she shouted, still not sure who’d shot David. The man on the floor behind Raziq? No, he was climbing to his feet. It couldn’t have been Raziq… but…

She caught movement from the two at the table and spun around. Just in time for the one closest to her to hit her on the side of her head with his pistol butt. The pain was like getting struck by lightning: flashing, blinding, overwhelming.
 

She tried to fight it but the man hit her in the face followed by a sucker punch to the gut. Slumped against the back of the driver’s seat, she felt fingers pry her SIG Sauer from her hand.
 

“Keep her alive for questioning,” she heard Raziq say. Then everything went black.

Chapter 37

Morgan had no idea what kind of bushes these were—evergreen with short, flexible needles, and light colored berries—but they were perfect for her needs. Tall enough to hide her, short enough they wouldn't force MD to go around them, thick enough that they’d obscure MD’s feet as he pushed his way through them.

She grabbed the wire from her bag. Her father had kept it for a variety of uses: garrote, bindings, restraints, leash… tripwire.

As soon as the trap was set, she crouched and waited. It was only a few moments before MD’s clodding footsteps could be heard.

“Here pussy, pussy,” he called in a voice he must have copied from a porn flick. “Come to daddy.”

She rustled the bushes beside her when he began to head in the wrong direction.

“Come out, come out. I won’t hurt ya. I promise. Hand to God. But those other guys, you don’t want to run into them. Stop playing games and come out—”

He tripped and fell onto his face in front of her. Quick burst of the stun gun and she had his wrists in wire, duct tape over his mouth. His legs flailed around as she flipped him over, so she sat on his belly, right over his diaphragm, making it too hard for him to breathe to fight her.
 

He stared up at her, eyes showing white all the way around. Fear fought with fury in his expression. She waved her favorite knife, a wicked eight-inch Spyderco, before his eyes then slid it to press against his throbbing carotid artery. Fury vanquished, only fear remained.

“Whisper quiet now,” she told him. “Don’t want to make Mommy mad, do you, MD?”

Idiot began to shake his head. She held her knife hand steady, letting him nick himself against the finely honed blade. A drop of blood slipped across the steel.