“Or be pushed by running attorneys.”
“I was wondering how you got down there.” Still holding her back to his chest, he touched his forehead to her shoulder. “We’re going to make a break for it.”
“Liar. You want me to leave so you can shoot it out with Pike’s murderers.”
He smiled. “Can’t blame a guy for trying to save his gal.”
She gave him a quick kiss. “Once a day is more than enough. Thank you very much.”
“Keep the gun and hand over the knife.”
She did as instructed. “What’s the plan?”
“Not certain what they’re going to do, but it’ll happen fast. They’ve had a lot of time to regroup. Stay close.” He cupped her shoulders. “We go together, partner.”
“Looks like your Fed buddies forgot about you, Rhodes,” Thrumburt yelled from below the catwalk.
“I want to be clear,” he said.
“Yeah?” she asked.
“Might as well give up, Rhodes. You won’t get out of here alive,” Knighton shouted from their left.
“We’re getting out. We’re only three blocks from major traffic,” she said.
He shook his head. “Wishful thinking, Darby.”
“Or we can wait it out upstairs in one of the offices.” His formidable look confirmed their situation was more dire than she wanted to admit. “Then what do we do?”
“The truth?” He still held her by her shoulders. “Shoot to kill, Darby. Don’t be soft with these guys. Their only intention is to kill you.”
The last moments in the car replayed in her mind—Thrumburt raising the gun and shooting Campbell in the head. Erren was right. Until all the witnesses were dead, these men would be a danger to her, her family and Erren.
“They’re trying to kill us. It’s not the time to debate obtaining witnesses,” she said. “I’ve got your back.”
“I know.” Erren squeezed her shoulders and stepped around the surprise of his life. Should he tell her? Did she already know? He loved looking into her emerald eyes. Even in the low light of the warehouse he could see the green sparks, the life, the fun.
They’d need lots of luck to walk away from this mess he’d gotten them into.
Time to go.
“Thrumburt’s on our right,” he explained. “Knighton’s to the left, the other two cops are probably placed to catch us in a cross fire. Can you take out the light?” She nodded. “This is going to happen fast so stay low and run like the place is on fire until you’re out of the building. And Darby?”
“Yes?”
“Stay alive for me, will ya?”
“Right back atcha, cowboy.”
No weapon—except for the knife—meant there was no way to cover Darby as he waited for her to swing around the door, shoot out the light and run. Which she did to perfection. Two shots hit their mark and shoved the warehouse into complete darkness. Cracks of light broke through every twenty or so feet. He couldn’t see much, but that meant Thrumburt and his men couldn’t see anything either.
Erren tapped Darby’s shoulder, causing her to halt. He’d said to run, but they couldn’t. They needed to determine where Limpy and Second Cop were. They could be waiting for them just outside. The results wouldn’t be nice.
He took the lead along the wall, waiting to hear any movement. Nothing. Just the rusty swinging of that hanging light Darby had hit.
His partner backed into him. They’d learned to work well together. He could trust her—something he hadn’t done in a long time.
It was an old trick, but he picked up a small cylinder from the floor, motioned to Darby what he was going to do, and threw it to the opposite side of the room. They ducked to their knees, hearing and seeing where two of the men were located as they fired at the sound.
Whether officer or daughter of an U.S. Army sergeant major, Darby responded by returning rapid fire in the direction of the first shooter. He heard the sound of a body crumbling onto the debris and quickly joined Darby on the floor, rolling away from her to avoid someone taking them out the same way.
He’d been right to assume she’d be a good shot and had a feeling her father had a hand in that accomplishment.
Then all hell broke loose. He rolled directly into Knighton, who was much closer than he’d considered. The tall man fell and they struggled. Erren lost his grip on the knife. Knighton landed a strong punch to Erren’s wounded side.
“You’re…done…man,” he said, trying to let Darby know his position.
Knighton turned the weapon into Erren’s chest. Erren grabbed and shoved back. And just like in any good movie, the gun went off. Knighton collapsed on Erren’s chest.
In his split-second acknowledgment that Knighton had shot himself, Erren heard a struggle back toward the area where Darby had hung from the catwalk. “Darby? Answer me!”
Something crashed. Erren ran toward the sound.
“The little bastard…is stronger,” she yelled, “than he looks.”
They rolled into the moonlight. Before he could reach them, Thrumburt landed a punch to the side of Darby’s head. Erren’s mind turned into a mad, bizarre place of protectiveness he’d never experienced. He threw himself at Thrumburt, shoving him off Darby and landing in the dark. Thrumburt might have been a match for his partner, but the ADA didn’t stand a chance against Erren’s wrath.
He had Thrumburt pinned to the ground and could feel Brian’s flesh giving way with each pounding of his fist before Darby stopped his arm.
“He’s out cold, Erren.”
He caught his breath and looked her over from head to toe. “You’re okay?”
“I’ll probably have a headache for three days, but I’m fine.”
He heard the distinct noise of a hammer being pulled back. “Watch out!”
Leaning into Darby’s legs, he pulled her to the ground and caught her on his chest just as a lone shot was fired.
It hit Thrumburt instead. Darby turned and fired toward the catwalk. They heard a body drop to the metal, then thud to the floor somewhere in front of them, a .38-caliber revolver in the hand of Second Cop.
“You are really good with that thing,” Erren said.
“I had three brothers for competition. Where’s the other guy who wrecked my house?”
They listened for any movement, heard the van’s engine start up and heard sirens getting closer.
“Doesn’t sound like Limpy’s around any longer. Almost over,” he told her. “You’re safe.”
“So are you,” she said with a saucy tone, as if she’d done her fair share of the work. She was right. She’d saved him in more ways than one.
THE FBI AGENT ERREN HAD called to clean up this cross-agency betrayal stood at the door of the warehouse—staying out of the “cleanup.” Erren had risked everything to turn the evidence over to the FBI. It was one long shot he’d played and actually won. Agent Steve Woods gestured for Erren to join him. A single head nod meant it was time to leave.
But once Erren left, he wasn’t certain when he’d get back to Darby. She didn’t know he had to leave and she’d be madder than a hornet when he couldn’t be reached.
But that’s what happened. There couldn’t be a record of his involvement. He’d give a statement. He’d testify if necessary. But he couldn’t be seen by the numerous officers filling the warehouse. He couldn’t be photographed by the media, who would soon be on the scene after discovering an ADA and a police officer had been killed. He had to disappear.
Officer O’Malley would be the hero of the day. Spitting mad, but a hero. The glory of bringing down a major crime ring would be forced upon her to face alone—at least until her brother woke up from his coma.
She was phenomenal. If things had been different they might have gotten together. He shook the impossible
