the brawl, Danielle had crawled to her sister. Now she clutched at Rebecca's clothes, her eyes wide and fixed on the unfolding drama.
Diego had nothing left to lose. Unlike the old saying, the truth would not set him free. But it would give him great satisfaction to know he had removed the smug look from Cavanaugh's face with surgical precision. He chose his next words carefully.
'My interest in the local police is purely... personal.' He glanced to Rebecca and summoned a painful smile. 'But the FBI is... another matter entirely.'
'What?' Cavanaugh's jaw dropped, the look on his face priceless and worth all the pain Diego had endured. 'You can't be...'
While the man staggered with that bit of news, Diego hit him with a combination punch. 'And Joe Rivera is not just... my employer. He's my father. And I assure you, he would not question my loyalty ... in this lifetime ... or any other.'
'Oh my . . . God.' The old bastard stumbled backward. He glared at Brogan, who only shrugged and stammered, 'I d-didn't know, b-boss. I swear.'
The men holding Diego loosened their grip. He pretended not to notice but tensed his body to move.
'Let me k-kill him for you, b-boss. I can . . .' Brogan hadn't recovered, but his mouth shifted into autopilot.
'Haven't you done enough, Brogan? Give me some time ... to think.' Cavanaugh ran a hand through his hair, his skin taking on the ashen color of his hair. He paced in and out of the light. 'I just have to... '
Diego saw it in the man's face. Cavanaugh knew his scheme had backfired. His only prayer for survival would be if the FBI got to him first. Rivera would not be as generous. Even if Cavanaugh walked out of here alive, he was a dead man.
Suddenly, an explosion ripped through the cavernous space. One . . . two . . . three loud booms. Each blast shredded the stagnant air with a percussive shock wave.
'Mooove . . . move . . . Mooove!' Voices bellowed, a distant assault on a level above. Another one sounded closer. They came from nowhere and everywhere.
At the threshold of the garage tunnel to the right, several metal canisters clattered across the cement floor. Diego saw them, but had no time to react. In seconds, each one detonated. A brilliant flash of light. And a deafening blast buffeted his body with a violent pulse and left him dazed. The roar rang in his ears, leaving him deaf.
'Aaahhh.' Diego covered his face, too late, and toppled to the floor. His head ached from the jarring concussion. Stars pierced the darkness and spun out of control, a blinding assault. Diego couldn't see. His night vision was gone.
Even in his stupor, he knew what had happened. Police tactical teams used a diversionary device called a flashbang. A fuel-air explosive, the device reacts with oxygen to produce an acoustic pulse and a brilliant flash of light. Anyone within range is dazed, seeing stars and unable to hear.
What followed the diversion played out before his eyes like a horror film in silent mode. Shadowy figures seethed through the maze, ghostlike silhouettes. Hard to tell the feds from Brogan's men. Flashlight beams strafed the walls, creating an eerie strobe effect. Bleary-eyed, he could only watch. Both of Brogan's men clung to him. They fired their weapons into the crowd, not taking aim. Maybe they figured to use him as a human shield.
Diego's ears popped from the repercussion of the explosions, in and out. Angry voices were muffled. He couldn't hear the words. Another series of blinding lights tore through the darkness, sudden bursts of white. Diego staggered with the second assault, his equilibrium shaken. He thought the men holding him had gone, but he felt their grip again. Their faces shaken, the men were unsure what to do.
Shots rang out as Brogan's men recovered one by one and scrambled for cover, firing their weapons. In a flash of recognition, Diego spotted Cavanaugh's white hair across a ramp. The man's face was twisted in panic, and Brogan rushed to his side. Cavanaugh yelled something to Brogan, but Diego only heard the incessant ringing in his ears. A steady numbing hum.
'Stay right.. . stay right.. . Move!' A man dressed in tactical gear shouted to his team. Stacked one behind the other, Draper's men moved as one unit, with weapons aimed and ready. They pressed their advantage, superior numbers and better equipment. But Brogan's men opened fire. Mass confusion and the surge of another standoff.
Diego wanted to shout and urge the feds to take down Cavanaugh and Brogan. Without a head, the snake would wither and die. But Brogan's men shoved him against a wall and forced him to move down another ramp, away from the fight. Diego craned his neck, looking for Rebecca on the level he had left behind.
The captive girls screamed and huddled together in the dark, staying low. The last time he had seen Danielle, she was clinging to Rebecca. Her eyes brimmed with tears and insane fear. But now, the girl cowered in a corner, hands over her head. Close to hysteria. The sharp staccato of bullets covered up her screams.
Now or never. His chance to make a move. Diego shoved into one of the men holding him and knocked the man backward. In the dark, he heard the man's head crack on the cement. Turning, he jammed the heel of his hand into the solar plexus of the other, punching the wind from his lungs. The man doubled over, and Diego finished him with an elbow to the back of his skull. He was out for the count.
Finally free, Diego took a gun from the unconscious man sprawled at his feet and checked his ammunition. He had half a clip. The other guy was nearly empty. He grimaced at his luck.
To help Rebecca and Danielle, he had to go back the way he had come. He shrugged out of his suit jacket, yanked off his tie, and tucked the gun at the small of his back. Crouched at the top of the ramp, he retrieved a knife from the sheath strapped to his leg and waited to make his move for Rebecca, to set her free.
'
He forced his legs to work, creeping along the wall, hunkered down low. The smell of cordite hung heavy in the air. Diego felt his way in the dark and almost stumbled over a dead body, one of Brogan's guys. The man's chest was soaked in sticky blood. Diego didn't have to check for a pulse. He wiped his hands on his pants, but the smell lingered. Copper-sweet blood and excrement made for a powerful brew, hard to forget.
More gunfire erupted, a short burst from what remained of Brogan's men. Bullets ricocheted and blasted a hail of cement shards off the walls. He ducked the flying debris. Members of the tactical teams were already herding the girls to safety, one by one, shielding them with their bodies. A slow but effective process. In the dark and under fire, it was difficult to tell friend from foe.
Up ahead, Diego spotted Cavanaugh. Draper's men were gaining an advantage—a fact not missed by the man with ashen hair. He saw it in his eyes and knew Cavanaugh would bail like a rat abandoning a sinking ship. With jaw clenched, Diego fixed his eyes on the man and pulled his gun, ready to close in. But the coldhearted son of a bitch hadn't missed his intentions. Reloading his weapon and pocketing another clip, Cavanaugh yelled to Brogan. The two men split up.
'Damn it!' Diego cursed.
He wanted to follow, but as he looked over his shoulder, Diego stopped cold. On the fringe of light, Rebecca caught his eye and held it. A single tear rolled down her cheek, a contrast to the fragile and brave smile on her face. Vulnerable and yet so very strong.
In that instant, she stole his breath, reminding him of their first kiss. Even amidst the fading clamor of Draper's invasion, he stood spellbound and unable to move. If they lived through this day, Diego knew he'd always remember the significance—the moment he realized he loved Rebecca Montgomery.
'Are you ... okay?' he asked, unsure he had spoken at all. When she nodded, he made himself move.
Diego wedged the gun at his back and headed for her with knife in hand. He cut away the duct tape, and as he freed her arms, Rebecca ran her fingers over his face and down his throat. To make sure he was real. An intimate and endearing touch.
