Chapter Ten

Chase burst out the rear-stage door.

At first, he saw nothing, no one. Then he heard a groan, and he hurried over to the dumpster.

He found another man down and recognized him as Victor Suarez, again, a man he knew to be a good agent.

His eyes were closed; he didn't appear to be moving. But he'd made a sound, and that meant that he had to be alive. Chase called Wellington as he hunkered down, telling him they needed med techs outside as soon as possible. He checked for the man's pulse; his heart was still beating.

His eyes fluttered.

"Black...black SUV," he muttered. "Plates..."

"Hey, help is coming," Chase told him, searching for the injury that had caused the large stain on his lower right gut. He ripped a piece of his shirt, pressing the wound, knowing that the blood flow had to be stopped. "Can you hold this?" he asked. "Victor, the bleeding..."

Suarez nodded and placed his hand on the pressure dressing Chase had created. He pressed down himself.

"Got...it."

"Can you tell me... You said ‘plates.' What about the plates?" Chase asked.

"O-obscured," the man said. "Muddied. On purpose, I'd bet. He has her...she's..."

"Hurt? Is she hurt?"

The man on the ground moved his mouth. No sound came, but he formed the word no .

Then he winced and managed to open his eyes, looking up at Chase. "Go! You've—you've got help coming. I think... I was a damned idiot, warning him...should have shot him flat out. No, right, we are the law, we don't just commit murder, but..."

Black SUV, plates obscured.

The man's eyes opened again. "Mic and buds...take my mic. Easier..."

"Thanks, thank you!"

Brilliant idea. He reached gently for the little button on the man's collar and even more lightly for the buds in his ears.

"Wellington, have you—"

"Got you loud and clear. And help is there. EMTs are headed out the door right now."

"Thanks. I see them, and I'm heading out after Sky. She may have her phone in her pocket, and he may not have thought of it if she didn't pull it out. Can you—"

"You bet. I'll get a trace on the location."

"Thanks. I'm heading out."

"Listen, I can get a trace on her phone going, but it will take me a few minutes. You can hold position—"

"No. I've got something else I have to do quickly," Chase said suddenly. "Get back to me, please, as soon as possible."

The med techs had arrived, and Chase stood, nodded to them and took off. His car was just a few feet away.

There was only one exit from the passenger lot, but he needed to think.

Where the hell would the man be going?

But first things first: he was going to take a lightning-quick side trip. Sky's place was close.

If it came to a point where he might need help...

There might be no better help than some he had quickly available to him.

He was out and moving in seconds. At Sky's house, he was grateful he knew the code as well as he knew his own.

He was in and out in seconds with Larry at his heels.

"Now, boy, where did he take her? He should be calling, asking for money, demanding clearance to get away...something. Unless..."

The unless was just grim. She might be a human shield for him, insurance, a hostage for bargaining.

Where? Esposito was still somewhere—he hadn't gone to the homes where he had sent his assassins to take care of the families of the men who had failed him.

Would he welcome Kenneth Malcolm, anyway?

As he anxiously asked himself questions, he heard Wellington's voice. "You're right, Chase, she's got her phone on her. He's heading west, out of the city. There's a small airport there... He's no good to his cartel king anymore, but he's got a major payoff on him, and there's a small airport—"

"I know it," Chase told him quickly. "I know exactly where it is."

"Sending backup."

"Fast as you can."

"We've got the control tower. They'll stall on the plane."

"Gotcha. Thanks."

He turned toward the highway, glad he knew the city and the route to take.

Grateful, too, when Wellington's voice came to him again.

"He had one hell of a lead, but you're closing in. The airport is right ahead—"

"Yeah. I know."

"Backup—"

"May be too late. Still no sign of Miguel—"

"No. As I told you, the families are safe. Agents got his assassins, and I think one of them is a major player. That part of the takedown went as planned—even though we were hoping these were hits the man might have wanted to take himself." He was silent just a moment and added, "We should have been on Malcolm," Wellington said.

" I should have been on him," Chase said, furious with himself that he had missed the man. But they hadn't known the scope of what was happening.

Now they did.

"Half a mile. I think they're turning into the airport."

"Yeah."

Chase was on them. They were turning into the small airport. But he knew that if Malcolm saw him, he'd probably shoot Sky on the spot just to kill her, because he wouldn't go down alone.

He drove the car to the side of the road, drew his weapon and warned Larry, "Stay close to me! Duty, Larry. We're on duty."

Larry gave a little sound of agreement. He'd been trained in many disciplines and was still a police dog to the core.

Chase leaped over the small fence, followed by Larry, and they headed along the outer shell of the place, watching as the black SUV came to a halt.

"Stealth mode, Larry," he said.

He hadn't had much of a chance to work with the dog, but he had faith that Sky had been given one of the best, an animal deserving a good life after taking a few shots in the line of duty.

Creeping along the buildings, they came within earshot as Malcolm got out of the car.

Sky apparently had no intention of helping him. He walked around to the passenger's seat, searching the area as he did so, grabbing her arm and dragging her out of the car.

"Now!" he told her harshly.

Larry was tense, letting out a low growl.

"Steady, boy, steady. On my command," Chase told him.

He could hear Sky. She wasn't rolling over—or shaking in fear.

"Why? You said you didn't want to take me to Mexico!" she said harshly.

Malcolm was looking at the plane, frowning. "Where the hell's the damned pilot?" He drew his gun, looking around.

As he asked the question, a man appeared at the top of the short flight of stairs leading to the body of the jet.

It wasn't the pilot.

Chase had never seen him in person before, but he'd seen pictures on the screens at the New Orleans offices.

It was Miguel Esposito, head of the major crime ring behind it all.

"So, here you are!" Esposito said to Malcolm. "And with a hostage. You have the money?"

"Right here," Malcolm told him. "Yeah, I've got a hostage."

"So...who do we have here?"

"Just a disposable, as soon as we get the bird in the air free and clear."

"Ah, but maybe not so quickly!" Esposito said, eyeing Sky with amusement.

"Disposable, trust me. She's trouble," Malcolm said.

"But so are you. You screwed the pooch, Malcolm. We lost major players."

"That wasn't me!" Malcolm told him. "Idiots—"

"Idiots you dragged into the ring, mi amigo ."

"I've got the money. The operation wasn't going to run forever. I did my part."

Malcolm was dragging Sky to the plane, looking back to see if anyone was coming.

"Well, we have a long flight in which to discuss the future," Esposito said. "For now...send up the chica !"

Chase quickly weighed his options—and his chances. Sky was with two men who were hardened killers, both armed. While it would be one hell of a thing to bring down Esposito, Sky was his priority. If he shot, he had to do so damned fast: kill one, the other might instantly aim at her and...

Esposito turned back into the plane. Malcolm was forcing Sky up the small set of stairs.

But Sky was apparently going for broke. Even though Malcolm held his weapon loosely in his hand.

Maybe she knew that Malcolm would eventually have his way. That Esposito might have fun with her for a bit, but eventually...

She wasn't suicidal, Chase knew.

But she was no one's patsy.

She spun suddenly, quicker than lightning, slamming a knee into Malcolm so hard that he teetered on the first step behind her and started to fall. And Sky was ready to pounce, ready to fly for the gun he was holding.

But she might not make it.

Chase wasn't alone: he had Larry.

He fired.

His aim was true. He caught Malcolm dead center in the back of the head, and the man went down.

Esposito reappeared, gun out. He didn't know what had happened, but he was ready to take on the woman who had already leaped down the last steps and ducked behind the ladder in hopes of reaching for Malcolm's weapon which had now flown just steps away...

But Esposito didn't see her right away. Of course, he would have known from the sound of the shot that it had been fired from a distance.

"Now, boy, now!"

Larry went running out for his new mistress, barking and growling furiously.

Esposito was distracted, trying to take aim at a dog that seemed to have the speed of a greyhound.

Chase stepped out where he could be seen.

Esposito whirled around, taking aim at him then.

Not fast enough.

Chase had known exactly where he was aiming, and with Esposito determined to fire, he had no choice.

He fired himself. The king went down. Sky emerged from her ducking stance beneath the steps.

Larry threw himself at her, and she almost fell backward again, taking the giant pup into her arms. She soothed the dog, assuring him she was all right, and stared at Chase incredulously.

He ran toward her, just as an explosion of sirens burst into the air, and the backup he'd been promised came barreling through the gates to the private airfield.

S KY COULDN ' T SPEAK as she held Larry, and Chase came to take them both into his arms. She'd been thinking that she was an idiot—when she'd been thinking at all. Fear had all but paralyzed her when she'd seen that she wasn't up against just one man with a gun but two.

And still...

She wasn't going to be taken. She wasn't going to be tortured before she was killed. There had been no choice. Her plan had been to throw Kenneth Malcolm off so badly that she'd seriously injure him and grab the gun and then duck under the plane until she got a chance to either try to shoot the other man or somehow escape.

She'd thought she had a chance.

Because while she might have been disposable , she was certain that, to the man on the plane, Kenneth Malcolm was equally disposable. And whoever the other man had been, Malcolm had caused him some considerable trouble. Considering the consequences, if Kenneth Malcolm was down, he might have shrugged it off and left without her.

No. Probably not. But there was always hope, even if it hadn't done too much for Malcolm.

She'd prayed that help might be coming...

How, she wasn't sure. But Chris and Brandon had known that Malcolm had her and...

"Oh, my God!" She found speech at last, pulling away from Chase and asking him desperately, "You got Larry. You and Larry—but, oh! Chase! Chris! Chris Wiley. He was shot, and a man in the parking lot—"

"They are being taken care of. I truly believe they're both going to make it," Chase assured her. "Skylar...oh, God, Skylar!"

"You came in time!" she told him. "How...?"

She loved the smile that touched his lips. "Well, Larry and I were pretty good. But you, Skylar Ferguson, gave us what we needed when you fought for yourself!" he whispered. "I don't know if you were entirely foolish or amazingly brave."

Looking into his eyes, she shook her head.

"I couldn't get into that plane. I just knew I couldn't!"

"Well, we can talk more later!" he murmured.

He didn't let her go, but he turned to the first man who came rushing from one of the cars that had burst onto the field, briefing him quickly on what had happened.

The man nodded, wanting to know if there was anyone else anywhere, and Chase told him that they hadn't seen a pilot and didn't know if anyone else was in the plane, but if so, they hadn't appeared.

Other agents were out of their cars, communicating in a way that Sky didn't understand. But two headed up the steps to the plane, one right behind the other, weapons drawn, ready for what they would encounter within.

Another car drove in.

It was Wellington himself who jumped out, rushing over to them. He looked anxiously from Sky to Chase, frowning.

"You got Malcolm—and Miguel Esposito ?" he exclaimed.

"I had some help," Chase said, managing a grin. "A really great dog—and then a true heroine not about to go anywhere quietly."

Wellington frowned, once again looking from Chase to Sky.

"And Larry. Hmm. They may want that dog back," Wellington said.

"They're not getting him!" Sky said, smiling. Her eyes fell on Malcolm and then Esposito, and she shivered and looked away.

She was so grateful to be alive.

And still...she wanted to be away from the blood and the horror and the fear.

"It will all be in my report," Chase said, "but there's something I never knew about Sky. She's got one hell of a kick and a tremendous sense of balance. It helped that Esposito ducked back into the plane at the right moment and Sky had made a dive to safety. But—"

"Sir!"

One of the agents who had gone into the plane reappeared.

"Yes, Cooper. Empty?"

"No, sir. Just a terrified woman who doesn't speak English. My Spanish isn't great, but I think that she was kidnapped and forced to act as a server on the plane and—and I'm not sure what else. She was hiding on the floor in the galley."

Wellington nodded. "We'll get her some help and figure out her situation. Can you talk her down so we can bring her in?"

The agent nodded. The woman emerged, looking at them terrified. Then she saw Esposito's body, fallen to the tarmac.

She let out a cry, but it wasn't a cry of loss or pain.

It was one of relief. Shaking, she turned into the arms of the agent who had to catch her before she, too, became a casualty of the short flight of steps.

"It's okay, you're okay, you're going to be okay!" the agent reassured her.

He helped her down, and as he escorted her to one of the vehicles, she looked over at Chase and Sky and suddenly broke away, running to hug Sky, speaking so quickly.

Sky, knocked a foot away from Chase, thought that the poor woman had been a victim—like so many others. Kidnapped? Maybe members of her family had been threatened, too.

Larry was amazing; he didn't growl. He knew the woman was no threat. The shepherd/Lab mix sensed her fear and trauma and leaned his furry body next to both her and Sky.

Sky wasn't sure what to do, but she hugged the woman back, smoothing her hair and telling her that it was going to be okay.

The woman broke away at last, hugged Chase and then hurried to join the agent.

"We'll find out more about her," Wellington said, looking at Sky and smiling. "Maybe you should be on our payroll."

She smiled and shook her head. "Um... I think I'll stick to teaching kids."

"Far more dangerous!" Wellington said lightly. He hesitated. "We're going to need a debriefing on all this, of course. And Sky, I'm sorry, I hope you're feeling up to—"

"I'm here. I'm alive. And I'm up to anything needed," she said. "But, please, do you know anything more about Chris and the other man?"

"In surgery as we speak, but the prognosis on both is good," Wellington told her. "So I'm afraid that there are a few things that still need attention..."

Chase was smiling at her. "She is the bravest individual I know," he said. "And we'll be fine. Paperwork. It comes with everything."

Medical techs had arrived; gurneys were coming out. Forensic crews were heading onto the plane.

"You are something!" Chase told her very softly. He hesitated. "You are your father's daughter."

"And that," she told him, "is the greatest compliment I could receive. Thank you. And thank you—and Larry. You saved my life."

"You saved your own life. And Larry played his part, distracting Esposito after Malcolm was down."

She hugged the dog again. "And to think I didn't even know I needed a dog! But Larry, I promise you the best treats forever and ever."

She saw Chase smiling slightly and turned to him. "Do I get the best treats forever, too?" he asked.

"Yeah. This time, forever—and ever!" she promised.