Velocity

85

Outside in the carport, an ambulance sat idling in front of the Terrazza di Sogno—the Terrace of Dreams—an Italian balcony overlooking the Bellagio fountains. Peter Yardley and Thomas Gifford had just arrived from the Green Valley Ranch Resort and were jogging toward them, accompanied by three men in black windbreakers with light gray DEA block letters on the back, chest, and arms. Two men in suits, presumably FBI, took up the rear.

Robby lay on a gurney, his torso elevated and an IV snaking from his arm. Roxxann Dixon and Hector DeSantos stood at his side, shoulder to shoulder with Vail, who had her phone pressed to her ear.

“How’s he doing?” Gifford asked the medic.

“I’m doing fine,” Robby said.

The medic frowned in annoyance. “Vitals are stable. It was a through and through. The constricting effects of the cold water helped. Some blood loss, but I’ve stopped the bleeding. Motor and sensation are intact. We’ll transport and give him a good look-see in the ER.”

“That really necessary?” Robby asked.

Vail, having ended her call with Jonathan—she’d woken him, but needed to hear his voice and couldn’t wait till morning—said, “Yeah, Robby, it’s really necessary. Not up for discussion.”

“For once,” Gifford said, “I agree with you.” He looked at Robby. “Anything we can get you? Something to eat?”

“Someone already brought me a fancy chili burger—”

“Yeah, that’d be me,” Dixon said, playfully raising her hand.

Vail chuckled. “Which he downed in two bites.”

“You earned it,” Gifford said. “That and a whole lot more.” He nodded at DeSantos. “Status.”

“Escobar’s in the wind. BOLO’s been issued and checkpoints have been set up. Lots of places in Vegas to get lost, so I’m not overly confident we’re gonna find him.”

“Villarreal and Guevara are in custody and being treated for GSWs,” Vail added.

A black Chevy SUV pulled up beside them, drawing their attention. Turino stepped out and faced Yardley. “I’ve got something for you, sir.” He pulled open the rear door, where Sebastian sat restrained in silver handcuffs and leg irons.

Sebastian and Robby locked eyes, then Turino slammed the door closed. “Apparently someone placed a tracking device in his phone.”

Yardley grinned. “How rude. I wonder who’d do something like that. And those blanks in his gun. Definitely not standard issue.”

“My pleasure to bring him in, sir,” Turino said.

“I thought you’d appreciate it.” Yardley’s face turned serious. “We’re due for a chat. Half hour, back at the office?”

Turino pulled open his door. “Yes sir. Looking forward to it.”

As Turino drove off, Yardley took a deep, relieved breath, then said, “Fine work, agent.”

“Thank you, sir,” Vail and DeSantos answered in unison.

“No offense.” Yardley motioned to Robby. “I was talking to my agent.”

Vail couldn’t suppress her smile. Robby had earned that. She glanced at Gifford, who seemed to be sporting a proud, though subtle grin.

“Given Agent Turino’s concern over Velocity,” Yardley said, “I thought you’d like to know that DEA moved up its timetable. We figured that with Cortez and Villarreal busy sparring over Robby, the distraction would make our jobs easier. We launched Velocity—” he consulted his watch—“sixty-five minutes ago. Early reports are very encouraging. Arrests in five states. More to come through the night.”

“Cortez?” Robby asked.

“Nothing yet. So far he’s slipped the net. But if not tonight, we’ll get him some other time. Our job’s not done till guys like him are out of business.”

Gifford extended a hand toward DeSantos. “Hector, you’ve been a godsend. Next time I see Detective Bledsoe, I’ll have to thank him for bringing you into the fold.”

“Yeah.” Vail gave DeSantos’s shoulder a playful shove. “Thank you.”

He looked at her a long moment, then said, “This case ended up meaning more to me than you could know. If my wife were here, she’d thank you, too.”

Vail tilted her head in confusion but let it go. DeSantos gave her a quick hug, then motioned to Dixon.

“We’ll let you rest,” Dixon said to Robby. “We’re gonna grab something to eat.”

Gifford caught Vail’s attention with a jerk of his head. “Can I have a word with you?”

“Sure—I just need a moment. Roxx,” she called after Dixon. “Hang on a sec.”

Vail walked with Dixon back toward the Bellagio entrance, away from the knot of personnel.

They stopped beside a large conical planter at the edge of the carport. Vail stood there looking at Dixon, not speaking, unsure of what to say.

Finally Dixon broke the silence. “It’s been incredibly . . . exciting. You make things interesting, Karen.”

Vail hiked her eyebrows. “So I’ve been told. Look, I—I can’t tell you what you’ve meant to me these past couple weeks. It sounds trite, but I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” She leaned forward and gave her partner a warm embrace.

A moment later, they pushed away from each other, both wiping tears from their eyes.

“So let’s not let this be good-bye,” Dixon said. “Okay? Email, phone. Facebook?”

Vail chuckled. “Jonathan’ll have to show me how to set up an account. But, yeah. Of course. And when you make it out to D.C.—”

“Lunch, dinner, whatever. And a tour of the academy.”

Vail’s face broadened into a grin. “It’s a date. And—do me a favor. Thank everyone for me. Brix, Mann, Gordon . . . except, well, Matt Aaron.”

Dixon laughed. “I’m going to miss you, Karen.”

They hugged again, and then Vail walked off to join her boss.

VAIL’S TIRED, SORE LEGS felt heavy as she ascended the gentle incline of the Tarrazza balcony. Gifford was silent until she reached the railing. The police were in the process of clearing the vicinity, though onlookers lined the boulevard along the periphery, outside the barricades.

Gifford leaned both forearms on the concrete balustrade and looked out at the lake. “Karen, nice job with all of this. I—well . . . thank you.”

Vail extended her arms beside him and took in the view of the lake. “Don’t take this the wrong way, sir, but I didn’t do it for you.” She grinned and noticed he had cracked a smile, too.

They stood there another silent moment. Then Gifford said, “You were right. About Robby being my son.”

“I know.”

He turned to Vail. “But I need you to keep that between us.”

Her eyes widened. “Sir, that’s your personal matter. But to ask me to keep it from him, to lie—”

“I’m not asking you to lie. I’m asking you to give me a chance to tell him. I want to do it the right way. It’s not an easy thing to admit to your son you’ve been absent from his life.”

“But you will tell him,” she said.

He looked back out over the water, then nodded. “Yes.”

YARDLEY WAVED A FINGER at Robby’s bandaged shoulder. “When you’re healthy, I’ll make a few calls, get you enrolled at the academy.” He paused, then said, “That is, if you still want to be an elite agent with the Drug Enforcement Administration.”

“I do, sir. Very much.”

Yardley nodded slowly. “Good. We need people like you.” He gave Robby’s uninjured shoulder a pat, then walked off with his entourage.