When Diego saw the switch going down, he pretended it didn't matter. But inside, his brain struggled for another way to alert Draper.
As he slid into the backseat of the Mercedes, with Cavanaugh giving last-minute instructions to one of Brogan's men, Diego had palmed his small cell phone out of his pocket. He shot a quick glance to its display as he held it close to his thigh, away from Cavanaugh's sight. With the cell muted, Diego thumbed 9—1—1 and hit send without a sound. But as the call went through, he slid the phone into the seat pocket next to him. No time for him to pass on a direct message—too dangerous.
A dispatcher would get the call and have to respond, whether he remained on the line or not. And with the GPS feature the FBI had installed on the phone, someone would eventually contact Draper and track his exact location. It wasn't much of a plan, but he had run out of options, especially after one of Cavanaugh's men held him at gunpoint from the front seat at the switch site, demanding his .45-caliber Colt.
Now with no gun, the sheath of knives strapped to his leg was all he had left. Diego stared into the dismal shadows of the garage up ahead. He was about to enter one of Cavanaugh's strongholds.
'You surprise me, Diego.' Cavanaugh's voice caught him off guard. He hadn't spoken since the switch. 'You didn't ask one question about the switch in cars. Why is that?'
Before he answered, Diego remembered another phone call not so long ago. The recollection came to him not out of nostalgia, but from the harsh reality of his present situation. His 'death wish' conversation with Cavanaugh. He didn't really know why he thought of it. Or perhaps he did.
Diego hadn't resisted at the switch site for one reason only. If he had a chance to discover the location of the missing girls, he had to take his shot—despite the odds. He knew he'd be outnumbered. And if this was his day to die, he would refuse to go quietly . . . or alone. He'd have his sights set on the man sitting next to him. Diego stared at Cavanaugh now, anger not part of the equation.
'Weren't we just talking about trust, Hunter?' In a deliberate move, he used the man's first name. After all, death made all men equal. 'It seems one of us was listening . . . and the other scheming.'
'I will miss our little chats, Diego.' Cavanaugh smiled, a genuine show of humor in his eyes.
'So will I,' Diego lied. He felt no such affection for the man.
Yet from here on out, subterfuge would no longer be necessary. Neither man would make the pretense of civility. Every remark would matter ... and every word would be the truth. The warehouse door rumbled closed behind them with such finality, it devoured the moonlight and belched its foul air. But worst of all, it robbed Diego of his life with Rebecca.
'How long are you gonna wait for Cavanaugh? Do the bodies have to pile up outside the door for you to reconsider this so-called strategy of yours?' Lieutenant Santiago had his hands on his hips and glared at Draper. The moon cast its light on half his face, the rest in shadow.
'Look, I've already had a long talk with your chief. He's doesn't like the situation, but. . .' Before Draper finished, his cell phone vibrated. He answered the call. 'Draper. You better have good news.'
Santiago watched his reaction with interest.
'We're outside the Cavanaugh estate. The limousine dropped two men off and split. What now?' The voice of Special Agent Russo.
'Did you get a good look at the men? Was it Hunter Cavanaugh and Diego Galvan?'
'We haven't been able to confirm that, sir.' Embarrassment crept into Russo's tone. 'It might've been them. We couldn't get closer with the security they have on the grounds and at the gate. But with binoculars, we might —'
Draper interrupted him. 'I don't want you to risk getting spotted. Cavanaugh's men are armed, and they'd be within their rights to shoot first and ask questions later if you tried to infiltrate the place.' He shut his eyes tight and heaved a sigh. The look on Santiago's face didn't help. 'Stay at the estate and out of sight. Report any activity. Draper out.'
After he ended the call, Santiago cocked his head to say, 'What? Don't your men have x-ray vision, or was the limo made of lead?'
The lieutenant took his cheap shot, but Draper had it coming. 'You've made your point.'
'Not yet I haven't,' the lieutenant insisted. 'We still gotta figure out a way into that damned warehouse, one that won't get my detective and those girls killed if they're in there.'
'My HRT Unit found a way in the main level, stealth mode, but the stairwells to the garage have been sealed off. A recent addition, by the way,' he offered.
'Sealed off?' Santiago asked. 'What kind of a renovation concept is that for a condemned building? If they've done work like that, it's likely Cavanaugh or Matt Brogan are behind it . . . and hunkered down below ground.'
'That's what I was thinking.' He nodded. 'We'll have to blow the doors to gain access. Maybe first we'll need a little diversion out front to distract the bastards inside.'
Santiago grinned. 'Now you're talking, Draper. I haven't seen a problem yet that couldn't be solved with a little well-placed C-4.'
'Remind me not to go hunting with you.' His cell phone buzzed again. 'Draper.'
He listened to the voice on the other end of the line, his jaw dropped and eyes narrowed. Draper gave his instructions and ended the call.
'You're not gonna believe this.' He fixed his eyes on Santiago. 'Dispatch got a 9-1-1 call coming from a phone I gave Diego Galvan, my inside informant. No one on the line, but it's still open. The cell's got GPS tracking on it.'
Santiago scrunched his face in question, not grasping if this was good news or bad.
'Dispatch tracked the signal to this location.' Draper's heart ramped up a notch. 'Galvan is inside that damned warehouse, sending up GPS flares. And I bet Cavanaugh is standing right next to him. This is going down . . . now.'
CHAPTER17
Only a matter of time. Brogan had a knife at Danielle's throat. Becca's sister strained to avoid the blade, chin high and veins jutting from her neck. The bastard trailed the weapon down her body, hovering over major arteries. One deep slice, and she would bleed out in minutes. And Becca would be forced to watch it happen. He had stripped off most of Dani's clothing, leaving tattered remnants to hang from her limbs.
Now, the tip of his blade creased her sister's breast, so sharp it cut a thin white line that erupted in beads of blood and dribbled down her rib cage. Dani gasped and gritted her teeth against the pain.
Becca rocked and tugged against the duct tape holding her down, not caring if Brogan saw. Her eyes stung with tears, and bile stirred hot in her belly, making her nauseous again. All she wanted was to talk to her sister for the last time. To tell Dani all the things she had dreamt about saying if she had a second chance. But if she did, Brogan would make Danielle's death excruciating. She knew it. And the pain of that knowledge ripped her apart.
Brogan locked eyes on Becca and a slow sneer spread across his face. He was only getting started. She saw it in his eyes as he unzipped his pants.
Killing Danielle wasn't going to be enough.
'Such a despicable animal. I see you are well represented, Hunter. You should be very proud.' A man's voice with a Hispanic accent came from deep in the shadows, accompanied by the heavy echo of footsteps.
Becca peered into the dark, looking for the man who dared to speak against Brogan. Although her face twisted with a rage from deep in her soul, she dared to hope someone would intervene for Dani's sake. Behind Becca and all around, people lurked in the shadows and whispered. She sensed a stirring of urgency. At her back, the weight of their eyes closed in. Even Brogan raised his ugly head and squinted into the murky shadows.
When the man with the mystery voice stepped into the light, a flood of emotion swept over her.
But Diego wasn't alone. Hunter Cavanaugh stepped from the dark and stood at his side. The privileged man
