Too Far Gone Page 27

  “They’re moving out,” Sean warned, tensing in anticipation of leaping off the wall to give chase.

  “Vinny, state your location,” Solomon requested.

  Sean could tell Vinny was running. Yet somewhere out near the street, he heard an engine turn over. Surely Vinny hadn’t reached the car that quickly.

  “Coming up to the car now,” Vinny huffed, confirming Sean’s guess.

  “We’ll meet you at the head of the driveway,” advised Solomon.

  A terrible suspicion skewered Sean as he slid down the wall and dropped into the grass. If that wasn’t their engine turning over, whose was it? As he raced along one side of the driveway, chasing the van’s taillights, he could see Ophelia’s rental car through his NGVs, creeping out from behind a screen of trees with its lights extinguished.

  Ellie, no!

  As the van turned left out of the driveway, Ophelia and Reggie jumped to their feet in their ghillie suits and raced to intercept their car, looking for all the world like Bigfoot and his mate.

  “Damn,” Sean muttered, realizing the reporting team was leading the way in chasing the van. The fact that Ellie was driving worried him even more. Presuming she’d watched her boys get into the van, the only thing on her mind right now would be getting them back.

  She’d risk her life to do it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As the front tires of the Chevy Caprice bumped onto the pavement, Ellie accelerated, only to brake abruptly so that Reggie and Ophelia could leap into the car in their wild ponchos.

  “Hurry!” cried Ophelia, sprawling into the passenger seat as Reggie dove into the rear. “Before they get away!”

  Ellie peeled out, filling the car with the smell of burnt rubber as she shot forward, chasing the van’s twin taillights, now some distance ahead of her. The worst-case scenario was happening right before her eyes—Dulay was relocating her boys, snatching them away again before she got the chance to see them rescued.

  With her headlights off, she drove blind, scarcely able to make out the road ahead of her. Live oaks, palm trees, and vines flashed by on either side, creating a deadly barrier that hemmed her in.

  “Careful,” Ophelia warned. “Just stay far enough back that they don’t see us.” She was breathing hard, fumbling for her seat belt. In the backseat, Reggie shook off his ghillie suit and clung to his equipment.

  “What about Sean and the others?” Ellie asked, her voice high and thin.

  “They’re right behind us,” Ophelia reported.

  They are? A glance in the mirror confirmed the woman’s observation. The black sedan was creeping up behind them; its lights were also off, and it was trying to pass them on this straightaway.

  Fearful of colliding, Ellie clutched the steering wheel harder. As the dark sedan overtook them, she glanced over just long enough to see Sean’s camouflaged face at the window, but he was gone before she could read his thoughts.

  Somewhere in the car, a cell phone vibrated. Ophelia pulled it out from under her ghillie suit and answered it. A muted but clearly angry voice barked orders on the other end. Ophelia listened for a moment before quietly hanging up. “They want us to fall back and turn our lights on,” she translated, putting the phone away.

  Ellie was certain Vinny had said more than that, and she could also appreciate the reason for his upset. They were speeding along a rural, tree-lined road at sixty miles an hour in nearly total darkness.

  And as with the time she’d driven Sean’s GTO over the bridge into Savannah, panic held Ellie in thrall. She could no more reduce her speed than she could slow her wildly beating heart. She kept the rental car right on the tail of the black sedan, peering through its windshield to the van far ahead of them.

  I’m coming, boys! I’m coming. She willed them to feel her presence, wanting desperately to reassure them that they would soon be safe. She could not, would not, let them get away from her again.

  “They’re pulling into the gas station,” Sean observed as the van swerved without warning into a Texaco, the only structure for miles in any direction, lit up by a Texaco star.

  Solomon took his foot off the accelerator. They’d chased the van twenty miles out of town, first onto a quadruple-lane expressway where they’d been surrounded by other cars, then down this two-lane rural road with nothing around them but marshland, shanties, and this lonely Texaco station. So far, the kidnappers didn’t appear to realize they were being followed. “What do you think?” he asked the others. “Should we take them now?”

  Solomon and Vinny assessed the situation. No other motorists were pumping gas. A single clerk manned the counter inside. The odds looked good, but the potential for bullets being fired in such a volatile environment gave all three SEALs serious pause. “Let’s do it,” said Vinny, who tended to be impulsive.

  “It’s risky,” Solomon pointed out. “We don’t know if they’re armed and stupid enough to start firing. Plus, the clerk inside is a wild card.”

  “So we catch them off guard,” Sean suggested, eager to abate Ellie’s panic. The Caprice had kept constant pace with them, falling back just far enough to turn on its lights. “We subdue them, flexicuff them, and lock them all back in the van,” he argued. “Where are the cuffs?”

  “Right here,” said Vinny, doling them out from among the supplies he’d borrowed from Spec Ops.

  Solomon put on his blinker to signal his entrance into the gas station. He’d made up his mind to do this. Sean glanced in the side mirror to find Ellie practically on their bumper. “Damn it, Ellie. Fall back,” he muttered.

  Solomon pulled the black sedan along the opposite side of the pumps. With the wide pump between them, the pock-faced kidnapper, who’d stepped out to pump gas, couldn’t immediately see who’d pulled up next to him.

  “Vinny, you grab the driver. I’ll get this big guy. Sean, take the back. Jump out on three. One. Two. Three. Out!”

  All three SEALs ejected at the same time with their weapons drawn. Solomon descended on the pock-faced thug, spinning him away from the pump before he could reach for the nozzle and spill gas all over the ground. Together they barreled into the side of the van, setting it rocking, alerting the occupants to trouble.

  Hastening to the back of the van, Sean wrenched the handles, only to find the doors locked. He yanked harder, but the locks held fast.

  Vinny, who’d rounded the van to drag out the driver, ran into worse trouble. As he dragged Little Hitler from his seat, the man snatched up a semiautomatic rifle, firing it pell-mell. Bullets spewed in all directions, ricocheting off the concrete, hitting the Plexiglas canopy overhead. It splintered, raining down fragments of plastic.

  Sean hit the ground, his adrenaline spiking. If a single bullet punctured a gas line, they would all go up in an explosive ball of fire. With Solomon grappling to overcome the bigger man, it was up to Sean to neutralize the situation. Taking a bead on Little Hitler’s shifting feet, visible to him under the belly of the van, he fired his borrowed weapon, hitting the perp directly in his right Achilles tendon.

  “Aaaagh!” With a scream, the man dropped the AK-47, which Vinny promptly kicked out of reach before tackling the man to the ground.

  Sean still had to get to Grimes, who was inside with the kids. He leapt to his feet, easing along the side of the van, fixing a wary eye on the mirror for any hint of defensive maneuvering. The second set of doors on the van’s side were as tightly secured as the first.

  Damn! A glance over his shoulder revealed that Ellie had parked a safe distance away, but she was out of the car, standing there with her hand over her heart. He waved her back into her vehicle. Ophelia and her cameraman had scurried behind a tree and were filming the takedown. And all this time, Grimes was inside coming up with a plan. Double damn.

  With Vinny grinding Little Hitler’s face into the oil-stained concrete, Sean climbed cautiously into the driver’s seat, his gun at the ready. He’d hoped to find a third point of entry into the back of the van. There it was, a flim
sy metal door between the seats. He wasn’t surprised to find it bolted, but three swift, mighty kicks ripped it right off its hinges.

  It clattered inward. The young woman screamed. Pulling his feet back, Sean dared a peek inside, sucking in a sharp breath at what the dome light revealed.

  Grimes had a pale-faced Christopher locked in front of him and was holding a blade across his neck. “Get out!” he called up at Sean. “Get out or I’ll slit his fuckin’ throat.”

  Peering in again, Sean assessed the sea of faces staring back at him—Chris, who appeared to be in shock; Carl, who looked like he’d been caught with his pants down; the whimpering teenaged girl; Colton with his thumb stuck in his mouth; and a tense, watchful Caleb. “Hey, fellas,” he said to the boys, realizing they had yet to recognize him.

  “Mr. Sean!” Caleb forgot his brother was a hostage. He launched himself off the bench seat and hurled himself at Sean, forcing Sean to swing his weapon away from him. Jesus. He could feel Caleb’s heart pounding against his own. A fierce protective feeling overcame him as he pulled Caleb safely into the cab with him.

  “I knew you’d come. I knew it!” Caleb grinned, clinging to him tightly.

  “Get out!” thundered Grimes in the rear. “You got one kid. That’s all you’ll get. Now get out or I’ll cut him. I swear it!”

  “And then what?” Sean called back. “Both of your buddies are in our custody.” Looking out the windshield, he could see Solomon and Vinny’s heads bobbing as they flexicuffed the other kidnappers. “You don’t have any van keys,” he added, wrenching them out of the ignition and tossing them out the open door. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?” he taunted.

  In the lengthy silence that followed, Sean whispered to Caleb, “Run to your mama.” He helped him out of the driver’s side door, giving him a gentle push in Ellie’s direction.

  She was out of her car again. As Caleb sprinted in her direction, Sean watched her sink to her knees, opening her arms wide to him, her tears streaming down her cheeks. One down, he thought as Caleb rushed into her embrace. Two to go.

  “Time’s up, Grimes,” he called, swiveling to deal with the situation in the van’s rear. “Let Chris go,” he added persuasively. “You know you’re not going to slit his throat. I don’t think Mr. Dulay’d be too happy about that, do you?”

  The silence that followed prompted Sean to take another peek inside. Grimes’s facial muscles had gone slack. His deep-set eyes were glazed with defeat. “Give me the boy,” Sean urged, stretching out a hand to take him. “Come on. That way, no one gets hurt.”

  With a sudden shove, Grimes sent Chris flying into Sean’s path. Sean caught him as he stumbled and swiftly traded places with him, putting him in the driver’s seat. “Hey, big guy. You okay?” He tilted his chin up, noting Chris’s slightly expanded pupils. His neck had been nicked, but he wasn’t bleeding.

  “I’m okay,” Chris whispered.

  Sean nodded. “Let me get Colton.” Keeping a wary eye on Grimes, who still clung to his knife, looking cornered and unpredictable, he motioned to the young girl. “Miss, hand me the baby,” he ordered calmly.

  Blubbering and trembling, she barely had the strength to hold Colton in the air. Sean edged cautiously into the cargo area to take him. Colton pulled his thumb out of his mouth and kicked with sudden delight. “Dadda!”

  Sean glanced at him in surprise, but with no time to savor the moment, he squatted down to pass Colton to Chris. “Go to your mother,” he ordered firmly. “Quickly.”

  Sean listened as Chris slipped out of the van. He waited for the sound of his running feet to grow inaudible and envisioned Ellie’s joy as she beheld her oldest and youngest heading toward her. “You, too, miss,” he urged the girl gruffly. “Go inside the store and wait.”

  As she scrambled past him, frantic to escape, Sean planted himself in front of Grimes. “Surrender your weapon,” he commanded.

  The man slanted a dark, defiant look at him and clung stubbornly to his knife.

  Without warning, Sean seized the rail overhead and delivered a swift, hard kick to the man’s head. “That’s for hitting me with a two-by-four,” he explained, snatching the knife away as the man swayed to one side, then doubled over, grunting in pain.

  “As for you,” Sean added, leveling Carl with an icy glare. “I hope some murdering convict makes you his little bitch while you’re in prison. You deserve no less for what you’ve done to Ellie and her boys.”

  “It wasn’t my idea,” Carl piped up suddenly. Up till then, he’d watched the proceedings passively. “Owen Dulay kidnapped my kids. I swear, I had nothin’ to do with it.”

  “Shut up!” Grimes snarled, snatching his head up to send Carl a murderous glare.

  “Put your hands on your head!” Sean barked at him, sensing sudden volatility in the air.

  “Come on, man,” Carl pleaded with Sean. “I never wanted those brats in the first place. It was all Mr. Dulay’s idea. These guys are the ones who took ’em. I swear, I didn’t even know about it.”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Grimes seethed, scarcely following Sean’s orders to keep his hands up.

  “I’ll testify against them,” Carl offered suddenly, mistaking Sean for a cop. “I’m innocent. I swear to you—”

  With a move that Sean had predicted but hadn’t had time to prevent, Grimes lunged at Carl, seized him in a headlock, and with a single, vicious jerk, snapped Carl’s neck. Dropping his victim, he lunged toward the rear doors. In less than a second, he was shouldering his way out the back, moving with remarkable speed for such a heavyset man. He had jumped from the van before Carl’s limp body even slipped to the grooved floor.

  Sean stumbled over it as he gave pursuit. Grimes was halfway across the parking lot, thundering straight toward Ellie, who’d gotten her boys into the backseat and, seeing the kidnapper’s approach, jumped behind the wheel with a look of horror. To Sean’s amazement, she slammed the car into reverse and careened backward, driving like a demolition derby driver.

  Grimes stood no chance of pulling Ellie out of another car and driving away. But in order to fire at him, Sean would have to shoot straight in Ellie’s and the boys’ direction. The thought of his bullet hitting any of them made his blood run cold, but he couldn’t let the bastard get away. Aiming his weapon, he steadied his trembling hand and fired at the man’s buttocks—a reassuringly ample target.

  Crack! The bullet sent Grimes sprawling face-first onto the pavement. He rose up again, staggered, then fell, groaning in agony.

  Sean leapt from the van and hastened over to him. “That was for Ellie,” he muttered, dropping a knee to Grimes’s spine in order to flexicuff him.

  Seeing the kidnapper subdued, Ellie pulled the car closer. When Sean looked up at her, she was staring with relief into the open doors of the van at Carl’s prostrate body, fully illumined by the dome light. He doubted she could tell whether Carl was dead or alive. Belated horror shuddered through him when he considered just how violent Grimes was—just how badly this rescue could’ve gone down.

  Pulling the flexicuffs extra-tight on Grimes’s fat wrists, Sean left him immobilized and jogged the short distance to where Ellie waited with her boys. At his approach, she pushed out of the car and launched herself into his arms, hugging him with ferocious gratitude. “Thank you!” she cried, too overwrought with joy to say more.

  Emotion put a stranglehold on his vocal cords as he held her tight and gazed into the backseat at three little boys, all buckled in and holding each other in unity, their eyes enormous. A sense of belonging coiled around him, making him want to jump into the car and stay with them—forever.

  But the wail of a siren made that fantasy impossible. “Go on, Ellie,” he urged. “Take ’em back to the inn and wait for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Go,” he repeated, helping her back into the car, reaching through the window to strap her seat belt for her. With a wink at the boys in the backseat, he stepped back and thumped the roof of the car. “Go,” he urged
again.

  With a brave, grateful smile, and reaching out to touch him one more time, she pulled away.

  The sirens were still about three miles out but were closing in. Ellie would have to drive right past them, but hopefully they’d ignore her vehicle—as long as she kept her speed down. Feeling as if she were carrying off his heart, he watched her drive away.

  The sirens grew louder. Dragging in a deep breath, Sean turned to deal with Grimes. Grabbing the man’s bound wrists, he dragged him back to the van, where Solomon and Vinny were hoisting the other two inside, alongside Carl’s body.

  “I guess Carl won’t be testifying to anything,” Solomon observed, flicking Sean a look. “What happened?”

  “Carl started blaming Dulay, and Grimes went ballistic,” Sean retorted shortly. “Help me out, will you? This guy weighs like three hundred pounds.”

  It took all three men to lift a groaning Grimes into the rear of the van with the others.

  “Clerk must’ve called nine-one-one,” Vinny observed. “Let’s get outta here.”

  Solomon handed him the keys to the motor-pool sedan. “Follow us with the news crew,” he commanded. “I’ve got the key to the van.”

  As Sean and Solomon jumped into the van, Vinny waved Ophelia and Reggie out of hiding. Together, the two vehicles spun out of the gas station, bouncing through potholes and heading in the direction opposite that of the approaching police.

  Over the muttered curses of the men in back, Sean listened to the sound of sirens fading. As the danger of being intercepted by Dulay’s law enforcers dwindled, he pulled out his cell phone to notify Hannah of the recent chain of events.

  “Special Agent Lindstrom,” she rapped, clearly occupied with pressing matters.

  “Ma’am, the boys have been reunited with their mother. We have the kidnappers and the body of Carl Stuart in our possession.”

  “Hold on, Sean. Say again?”

  He repeated himself more slowly.

  “That was fast,” she drawled. “Change of plans, gentlemen,” she called, clearly addressing others on her end. “The kids aren’t coming after all.”