“So let them. You just got back.” Ashford jabbed a thumb into his chest. “I just got you back.”
She held his hand in both of hers and opened her mouth to speak; however, no words escaped. She clamped shut her jaw.
Ashford gaped into her pleading eyes, eyes he wanted to get lost in before she fell asleep in his arms. “But that’s not in you, though, is it?”
She gave him a fading smile.
His chest swelled. Exhaling a loud rush of air, he jutted out his chin toward the door. “Go.”
She kissed him before whispering in his ear. “I’ll be careful.” After acknowledging Hardy and Cruz, “Thank you both again,” she headed for the stairs.
Ashford watched her descend the staircase. “You better be careful, woman. You promised me that skimpy, red, push-up number.”
Cruz arched her brows.
Hardy grinned at the big man.
Ashford glimpsed the couple, but stopped short of cranking his head around to see his within earshot father-in-law. He faced Devlin.
Bounding down the steps, seeing his cheeks reddening, she smiled at him.
‘S’ ‘H’ India Tango, he winced, I said that out loud.
She blew him a kiss and hurried out of the house.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 30
High Crimes
Running down the driveway, Devlin spied Randall leaning against the front bumper of Thorn’s car. “Let’s go. There’s a team ready to take down Crane. They’re waiting on us.”
Randall opened her door, rushed around the car, and climbed behind the wheel.
She jumped into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and affixed her seat belt. “We’re a half hour away. Can you shave some time off that?”
He brought the sedan’s engine to life, yanked the gearshift down, and made a ‘U-turn’ before stomping on the gas pedal. “We’ll be there in twenty.” Tires squawked, and the lightweight car accelerated.
Once they were on the highway, he gave her a look. “I’m sorry I didn’t come inside back there.”
She confronted him. “What do you mean?”
“I figured you could use some alone time with your family.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I didn’t want to add one more person—a stranger at that—to the situation.”
She faced forward. “Well, when this is finally over, I should introduce you to my family.”
He nodded. “I’d like that.” The sedan overtook another car. “So where are we going?”
*******
twenty minutes later
4:35 a.m.
germantown, maryland
The quiet subdivision on the north end of the city looked like any other: similar-in-style, two-story homes with small lots jammed together to make the real estate developer the most money. The dwellings were dark at this hour, except for a few outdoor security lights, most likely activated by a nocturnal creature.
As Randall took the turn into the subdivision, Devlin touched her cell to her cheek. “We’re coming up on the scene.”
Thorn: “I can’t wait any longer, Jessica. I just got word. Crane is leaving the house with a security detail. I’m giving the order for the assault team to move in.”
Devlin glimpsed the driver. “Punch it. Crane’s on the move. Go, go go.”
Randall’s foot went to the floorboard.
She tossed the mobile and unhooked her seat belt.
A quarter-mile later, Devlin spotted a black SUV, its headlights on, filling with passengers. Doors shut and the government ride sped down the slanted driveway.
Devlin looked left.
Parked across from the target home, two black SUV’s spewed eight tactical operators. The black-clad men, rifles at the ready, darted toward the escaping deputy director’s vehicle.
Estimating the distance between the opposing forces, They’re too far away...he’ll get away, she chopped the air in front of her. “Keep going. Keep going. Cut off the SUV.”
Randall swerved around a parked car, jerked the wheel back, and accelerated. A second later, his foot transitioned to the brake pedal and he spun the wheel to the left. The car’s front end dipped and veered before coming to rest in front of the advancing tactical team.
Its front tires bouncing off the pavement where the driveway and the roadway met at sharp angles, the fleeing SUV screeched to a halt.
Yanking on the handle, while drawing her 1911, Devlin kicked open the door and peeled out of the car.
With weapon in hand, Randall was a couple seconds behind her.
Her Colt pointed at the SUV’s left-front window, she shot glances at the armed men pouring around both sides of Thorn’s sedan; a few had their rifles aimed at her and her teammate. She held up the badge around her neck, “United States Deputy Marshal Jessica Devlin,” hoping the S.O.G. teams had been given her name.
The rifles swung back toward the SUV.
She let go of the badge and resumed a two-hand hold on her weapon. “Michael Crane, you’re under arrest. Step out of the vehicle with your hands up.”
Two men exited the SUV, both aiming pistols at Devlin, Randall, and the assaulters.
Eight men shouted. “Drop your weapons. Drop your weapons now.”
Recognizing the men, fellow deputy marshals she had crossed paths with, Devlin closed the distance. “Tim...Harlan, don’t be stupid.”
A flash of familiarity washed over the deputy marshals’ faces.
“We have a warrant for Crane’s arrest.” She entered the tactical team’s line of fire.
Randall noticed the firing angles. She’s in the crossfire. “What are you doing?” He hurried toward her. “Get back here, Devlin.”
Creeping forward, she stared at the two men, their guns pointed at her. “Stand down, gentlemen. You don’t want to go to jail for him...or worse.”
After a few sideways glances, Crane’s detail lowered their guns.
The left-rear door opened, and the deputy director emerged.
His security detail holstered their Glocks and shuffled to the opposite side of the SUV, away from the men with rifles.
His gun pointing at the concrete, Randall noted the muzzles of the men on either side of him. Their guns were aimed at Devlin’s back. She’s going to get herself killed.
Devlin moved forward. “Michael Crane, you’re under arrest for high crimes against your country.”
The man’s right hand disappeared behind his back.
Heavily armed men: “Hands! Show me your hands.”
Five feet behind her, entering the crossfire himself, Randall sidestepped left and raised his Glock toward Crane. “Damn it, Devlin. You’re going
