Chapter Seven
Ky closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. The dull thud of the headache that had started right before they’d taken off from the private New York air strip had metastasized into a roaring earthquake, pounding and pummeling behind his eyes once they’d landed in DC. Being screeched at by the assistant State’s attorney for the past fifteen minutes hadn’t helped ease the pain one bit.
“What kind of a shit-show are you running, Pappandreos?”
Ky met the ASA’s disgusted glare and counted to five. It wouldn’t do to give into the anger raging within him and flatten the man where he stood.
Davison Barly, all six feet, six inches of him, used his substantial height and width to intimidate and bully all those around him. He ruled his office with a fist encased in iron, brokered no excuses, and was rumored to have lofty political aspirations. All of the people assigned to him came to work daily in a state of nervous tension.
He stood in front of Ky, hands bunched into bowling-ball-sized fists, a look of abject fury on his face.
“I want you removed as lead investigator in this case. My primary witness has been assassinated under your watch, and now four agents are dead, another wounded because of your incompetency.”
“Now hold on a minute, Barly,” Colin Tiege said. “You can’t pin those things on him. It’s obvious there’s a leak somewhere—”
“In your department,” Barly insisted.
“—we need to plug,” Tiege continued, as if the man hadn’t spoken. “The leak can be from anywhere. There are multiple agencies involved in this investigation. Your office is just as much suspect as ours.”
The red in Barly’s face deepened. “My office had no knowledge of where Miss Laine was being kept. Therefore, it’s your own house you should be combing through, your own men you need to look into.” He turned back to Ky, his meaning clear.
“But,” Tiege said, from his seat behind his massive desk, “You were the one who insisted Calafano be kept in a hotel so you’d have easy access to him, and not in a safe house of our choosing. Everyone in your office knew where he was being held.”
Before Barly could respond, Ky jumped in. He’d had enough of the infighting, backbiting, and accusations. He needed to get Gemma somewhere safe and this pissing contest wasn’t speeding up the process.
“Look,” he said, his gaze going from one man to the other. “There’s a crack in security, but right now that’s not my priority. I’ve got four of my best men dead and my partner out of commission and I still need to secure Miss Laine.” He turned to face Barly. “I realize Calafano’s hit has set you back, but you have his testimony on disc. That should count for something in court.”
The man actually snarled at him. “Your lack of knowledge of the judicial system is pathetic. Ritandi’s lawyers have the right to interrogate the witness, which they can’t do if he’s dead, so the taped testimony will most likely never be allowed.”
“What does that do to the indictment, then?” Tiege asked.
“It’ll get tossed since Calafano is our only direct link to Ritandi.”
Tiege picked up a pen from his desk and tapped it between his fingers onto the desktop. “The license plate on the photographs of the getaway van connects the vehicle back to one of Ritandi’s chop shops. That’s a direct link. And a mistake his crew made.”
“But it can’t be tied to Ritandi personally,” Barly said. “His defense can argue just because the van came from a business allegedly owned by him, it doesn’t mean he was the one who ordered the hit. The appearance of involvement is not the same as having actual proof he called for Calafano’s execution.”
Barly turned to Ky. “You need to get me more.”
Ky wasn’t about to remind the man he’d just said he wanted him off the case. Even if he made a formal request, caused a big stink about his participation and got him thrown out as lead, Ky wasn’t about to drop his investigation. He had the funerals of four of his best men to attend because of Ritandi. There was no way that was going to go unpunished.
“What are you going to do about Miss Laine?” Tiege asked him.
“I’m in the process of moving her to another location. Once I know she’s secure,” he turned and addressed Barly directly, “I’m going to find Ritandi.”
“How?”
Ky shook his head. “Let me worry about that. You just be available when I bring the bastard in.”
“Don’t you dare order me around.” Barly stood up to his full height and peered down his substantial nose at Ky. “I’m a federal attorney—”
“Assistant,” Tiege said dryly.
Barly whirled on him. “You son of a bitch!”
“Calm down, Barly. Your face looks like a tomato. I don’t need you to have a stroke in my office.”
Without another word to either man, the ASA stormed from the room, banging the office door against its hinges.
Ky moved and closed the door.
“If I knew it was that easy to get rid of him,” Tiege said with a chuckle, “I’d have insulted him sooner.”
Ky came to stand in front of the desk. “Sir, I need to get Miss Laine secured.”
Tiege nodded. “What do you need from me?”
Fifteen minutes later Ky walked back to the room he’d sequestered Gemma in when they’d arrived at the federal building. With a nod to the agent he’d assigned to make sure no one entered or exited the room, Ky opened the door and walked in.
The room was a windowless cubicle used for interrogations. A single desk and a few metal chairs surrounding it were the only furniture. Gemma sat, an irritated scowl gracing her face, in one of the chairs. She had her camera in front of her and looked as if she were flipping through the photos.
The moment Ky walked in she vaulted up from her seat. “Where have you been? What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry you had to wait so long,” he said. “I had to brief my boss on what’s happened, plus I had a meeting with the State’s attorney in charge of the case.
“Any news on Jon?”
“He’s still in surgery. That’s all I know.”
“Oh.” She glanced down at the camera she held.
“I’ve been making arrangements for you to be moved, as well.”
“What do you mean moved? I thought we came here because you said it was safe. We’re not staying?”
“No. I need to get you out of here and someplace where you can’t be reached until I locate Ritandi.”
“Wait”—she put up a hand—“what do you mean until you locate him? You’re not staying with me?”
Was that regret in her voice? Or was she happy she’d finally be rid of him. Ky couldn’t tell from her tone.
“With Jon out of commission, no one else on my team knows Ritandi as well as I do. I need to coordinate the search for him and I can’t do that and keep watch over you. I’m sorry, but I promise, I’ll make sure you’re safe and secure. I’ve handpicked the agents being assigned to you.”
She didn’t respond at once, but a moment later her shoulders dropped. “So I still can’t go home?”
“Not until the threat against you is eliminated. I’m sorry. I wish there was some other way.”
She nodded.
“I need another few minutes to get everything coordinated and then we’ll leave. Okay?”
When she just nodded again, Ky was struck by how exhausted she looked. And more: worried. She bit down on the corner of her bottom lip and sat back down in her chair, an air of resignation about her that pulled at him.
It killed him to leave her safety up to another agent, but at this point he didn’t think he had any other choice. Ritandi had to be located. It was obvious the security of their investigative team had been compromised. Someone had been able to discover the safe house and get word to the mobster. Ky needed to focus all his attention on apprehending the man. The quicker he did, the quicker he knew Gemma’s nightmare would be over.
* * *
“Stay close to me,” Ky said as he walked her out of the elevator and into the underground garage. He had that familiar grip on her upper arm again—strong, hard, and secure —as he propelled her to a waiting vehicle. The giant black SUV was surrounded on all sides by armed men.
Ky removed his hand once he’d helped her into the SUV, and for some strange reason, she missed the contact. Two agents slid into the front passenger and driver’s seats. Once the doors were closed and locked, Ky handed her the black backpack he’d been holding.
“I thought you’d like to have these back.”
Gemma zipped open one of the pockets and found her laptop and her spare camera .
For the first time in hours she smiled. “Thank you,” she told him. It was a kind gesture, one she appreciated more than she could put into words.
Ky nodded. “They were cleared at the scene, so there was no reason we had to keep them in storage. Just FYI,” he said as they started out from the garage, “the computer techs checked the wireless capability on your computer and the internal tracking system. Both are still disabled. When this is all over, the systems can easily be reactivated. But at least you’ll be able to work where you’re going and I’ll know no one can track your location.”
“Thank you, again.” She tucked the camera she’d brought with her next to the spare and re-zipped the pack.
They moved into the metropolitan DC midafternoon traffic. Not familiar with the area Gemma couldn’t tell in what direction they were heading.
“Where are we going?” Gemma asked.
“Alexandria. I want you out of the city. My men have already arrived and they’re getting the safe house set up for you.”
“How many?”
He cocked his head, regarding her. “Eight.”
Twice as many as last time. Somehow, the knowledge of the increased number didn’t make her feel as secure as it should, knowing that Ky wouldn’t be counted among them.
“They’re all excellent agents,” he told her.
She sighed. “I’m sure they are.”
The groove between his eyes deepened. “I promise, you’ll be safe with them.”
She nodded and turned her head to look out the window again.
They rode in silence for a while.
“Approaching the outbound, Sir,” the driver said after several minutes. “Traffic’s moving well for this time of day.”
The SUV moved into the on-ramp lane and sped up to merge.
Ky turned to her and said, “We should be there in about a half ho—“
A loud blast exploded from the back of the vehicle and Gemma was thrown against Ky when it swerved. Another boom came from the back passenger side.
“We’re under fire!” the agent in the front passenger seat yelled.
“Get down!” Ky shoved Gemma’s head into the space between the seats. He’d drawn his weapon and was frantically turning left and right. “Speed up, Cassidy.”
The van pitched forward with such force Gemma fell forward, banging her head on the seatback in front of her.
“I don’t have a clear shot,” she heard the front agent call to Ky.
She watched in horror as Ky undid his safety belt and knelt up on the seat, facing backward. “Two, maybe three vehicles,” he shouted. “Get in the left lane.”
The driver zipped the SUV toward the left, causing Gemma to flail again. She reached out for the safety strap as an anchor to keep from being pitched around.
“Stay down!” Ky commanded again. He’d slid to her seat and opened the window enough to lean his weapon out. Three rapid pops blared as the sound ricocheted around her.
She heard two return shots pierce the back end of the van. Ky fired again in quick succession. The unmistakable sound of tires squealing filled the air next and then a loud crashing noise.
From her vantage point, Gemma couldn’t see what happened to the chasing car, but a red fire ball reflected off the windshield a moment later.
“Kilburn?”
“One still on us, Sir.” He leaned out the window and sent a barrage of bullets behind them.
Ky pulled back in and reloaded. “Get us out of here, Cassidy.”
“Trying, Sir.”
The SUV pitched forward. For several seconds Gemma felt the force of the vehicle increasing its speed and swerving left then right.
“Get off at the next exit,” Ky told the driver, “but don’t slow down until we’re almost there. I don’t want them to know until it’s too late.”
A series of bullets hit the side panel on the driver side, imploding the window. The van veered sharply to the right then corrected.
“Cassidy?”
“I’m okay, Sir,” the driver said. Gemma thought he sounded anything but. “Exit’s another mile.”
Cassidy kept up the speed as ordered, as another shower of bullets came from behind them.
Gemma felt the car jolt to the right, several horns blasting at them, as Ky and other agent continued firing from the windows.
“Don’t stop for anything,” Ky ordered.
“Copy that, Sir,” Cassidy said.
“He’s gaining,” Ky announced. He slid back over to the passenger side of the vehicle, glanced quickly down at her, and then opened the window, firing behind him.
Bullets rebounded at them, shattering the windows, glass raining down on the seats and floor. Ky had a bloody gash on his hand, another on his jaw.
The fire play continued.
“Cassidy?”
“Almost there, Sir.”
The van continued to move at speeds Gemma knew were beyond dangerous. Car horns blared loudly as she felt the car swerve in and out of lanes.
The van careened to the right suddenly and from her position on the floor, Gemma was bounced and tossed again. From behind she heard the sickening squeal of brakes slamming, then metal crashing against metal.
Horns continued to blast, as Cassidy navigated through what she assumed was now street traffic. He’d lowered their speed and from the movement of the van right and left, she knew he was weaving in and around other cars.
A quick swerve with the tires screeching and Gemma was pitched into semi-darkness as the SUV slammed to a stop.
She counted to ten, the silence in the van overpowering after the cacophony of the fire play.
A whirr of sirens echoed in the distance.
“Are you hurt?” Ky asked her. He helped her from the floor, swiping glass off her shoulders and lap.
“I—I don’t think so.” She sat up, her entire body shaking. White and yellow pops of light flashed in front of her eyes. Her lips felt tingly as did her fingertips. Before she could draw another breath, Ky shoved her head down between her knees.
“Breathe,” he told her, keeping his hand secured to the back of her neck. “Slow, now. Don’t force it.”
Kilburn’s voice was muffled and very far away, but she heard him say, “Cassidy’s hit, Sir. We need to get out of here.”
Gemma tried to sit back up, but Ky’s hand hadn’t moved from her neck.
“I’m okay,” she told him.
He eased back. “Don’t come up fast. Take it easy. Take a breath or two.” His gaze flicked to the back of the driver’s head. “How bad?”
“Left shoulder, Sir,” Cassidy said. “I think it’s a through and through.”
Gemma opened here eyes to find Ky’s gaze narrowed on her. “We need to get out of here,” he said. “Now.”
“You’re bleeding. You’ve got a cut on your jaw as well as your hand.”
Ky looked at his hand then reached into his pocket, extracting a handkerchief. A quick swipe across it and the blood was gone. “It’s just a scratch.”
“Here, let me have it.” She took the handkerchief from him and, angling his chin with her free hand, she pressed the cloth against the gash with shaking hands. Gently, she dabbed at the jagged line, willing her hands to stop trembling.
“Probably from flying glass,” she said, inspecting it. “I don’t see anything in the wound, though, which is good.”
“Okay, leave it.” Ky yanked away from her hold. “We need to get out here.”
He said something under his breath to Kilburn while he helped her from the car. Once out from behind the seat, she got her first view of the van’s exterior.
A ball of bile swelled up from deep within her. She shot her hand over her mouth and turned away. The black SUV was peppered and pierced with bullet holes, the smell of heated metal harsh, filling the air with a rank, coppery odor.
“Let’s go.” Ky pulled her upper arm again. This time his grip was tighter. “Stay next to me, do you understand? Don’t let go of me no matter what.”
She nodded and tossed the backpack over her shoulders. She hadn’t let go of it the entire time they were under attack.
“They’re not coming with us?” she pointed her chin at his men.
“No,” was all he’d tell her.
She finally let herself look around. They were in an alley, the van stopped between two buildings and secreted behind a large industrial garbage container. The acrid smell of urine and rotting food was overpowering, but Gemma didn’t have a chance to notice anything else because Ky was moving so quickly she needed to concentrate on keeping up with his pace.
He was taking them in the opposite direction they’d come from, keeping them close to one building, his gun drawn in his right hand but pointed down, the other holding her arm. The sounds of traffic and voices from the street in front of them grew louder.
“We need to get as far away from this area as possible,” he said.
When they reached the street, Ky shoved his gun into his pocket. She wanted to ask him why he didn’t put it back in his shoulder holster, but she realized it was because it wouldn’t be concealed if he did, but out in the open where anyone could see it. They walked for what seemed like miles, weaving in and out of the sidewalk traffic, keeping close to doorways.
Finally, Ky stopped and glanced up. “In here,” he told her.
He hadn’t removed his hand from her arm the entire time they were moving, so when he let go of it to pull out his cell phone, Gemma felt an unusual emptiness engulf her.
They were standing in a darkened entranceway, a worn and battered staircase just beyond them, behind a locked glass door.
“Where are we?” she asked.
Ky put up his index finger, a signal for her to wait.
“Yeah,” he said into the phone. “Downstairs.”
A buzzer pierced the air and he pushed open the door.
“Up.”
She repeated her question.
“At a friend’s.”
From the top of the stairs a door opened and the dark hallway was bathed in shards of sunlight. A massive silhouette stepped in front of the light, blocking it.
The skin on the back of Gemma’s bare arms chilled. Instinctively, she moved back a step and rammed into Ky. The feel on his hand winding around her waist calmed her immediately. She told herself she’d think about exactly why that was, later. For now, just knowing he literally had her back eased her fear.
The giant said something to Ky in a language she didn’t recognize. She felt his own voice reverberate along the length of her spine when he responded in kind and she realized they were speaking Greek.
The giant stepped back, swiped a hand through the open door and said, “Please come in, Miss Laine. I assure you I don’t bite.”
She stumbled into the room when he added, “Unless I’m asked to, of course.”
* * *
Gemma looked around the room and tried not to gasp. There wasn’t an inch she could see that wasn’t covered with some sort of computer device. Dozens of colored electrical wires dropped from the ceiling, cascading down the center and sides of the room, attached to at least ten computer hard drives that were visible. She counted an equal number of differing sized monitors all in a row, set across two massive tables, each one of them on and processing data across their screens. Two forty-inch flat-screen televisions took up one complete wall. They, too, were turned on, both tuned to opposing financial market stations.
A dull, persistent, mechanical hum permeated in the air.
The windows were covered with clear plastic from pane to pane with what looked like aluminum foil surrounding the borders.
Once the door closed behind them, the giant grabbed Ky into what Gemma truly could call a bear hug, and slapped him on the back several times.
“It’s been too long, brother,” the man said.
“Truth.” Ky turned his attention to her. “This is one of my oldest friends, Theo Kanikaredes. Theo, Gemma Laine.”
She took her first clear look at him. He really did look like a bear; a teddy bear. Yards of unruly, curly black hair covered his head, and an equally messy beard, his face. He was at least half a head taller than Ky and twice as wide, with shoulders as broad as the back of a truck. A faded, elbow-bare MIT sweatshirt covered his torso, the same logo gracing the side of his baggy sweatpants.
Eyes the color of fresh coffee beans crinkled at the corners when his face broke into an open smile.
“Theo and I went from kindergarten to high school, and all through Greek school, together.”
“Xaipete. Welcome,” Theo said, slapping Ky on the back again. “But I don’t think you’re here to talk about old times, eh?”
“We need your help.” Ky quickly filled him in on the reason they’d appeared at his door.
Theo’s gaze shifted several times from his friend’s face to Gemma’s and then back again.
“First things first.” Theo moved to one of several desks in the room, opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle and two shot glasses.
“Theo, I can’t,” Ky said, watching his friend pour. “I’m on duty.”
The giant said something in Greek that Gemma knew was an oath. She’d heard Ky grunt the same thing when they’d been in the hotel room. He downed a shot glass full of the liquid, re-poured, and downed another.
With a full body shake, he put the bottle and glass back into the drawer.
“Now,” he addressed Ky. “Tell me what you need.”
While the two men talked, Gemma sat on the only cushioned chair in the room. The computer monitors scrolled continuously around her, scores of numbered columns flashing against the blackened screens in a continual motion. It looked like a scene out of movie about an underground cyber world.
She scrubbed her hands down her face. Her nerves felt like flayed and exposed electrical wires. There was a fine tremble in her hands that wouldn’t completely quell. She’d never been so scared in her life as when they’d been fired upon. That she might die in the van, never seeing her family again, never taking another picture, ran through her mind in a continual loop while they were under attack.
Anger pushed through the raw, stark fear, the churning bile. The urge to scream at the top of her voice, to hit something hard, to fight against this seemingly endless nightmare, was powerful. She was supposed to be safe now; he’d promised her she would be. No one knew where they were heading, but yet again, they’d been found and ambushed.
It was obvious he couldn’t keep her safe, no matter how hard he tried. And Gemma did believe he had done everything he could. Even through her anger she recognized that. He’d never let go of her hand during their entire trek, never once. He was her protector, her defender, her guard, and he hadn’t shirked his duty for one moment since she’d been placed in his care.
Despite all his efforts, though, she was still in danger.
Leaning back into the cushion, she allowed her eyes to close and tried to calm her mind while the men spoke in Greek.
An idea wormed its way through her exhaustion.
A gentle hand on her shoulder pulled her back to the land of the living.
She startled instantly awake. “Wha—“
“You’re okay.” Ky squeezed her shoulder.
Gemma bolted upright in the cushioned chair to find him and his friend staring down at her.
“I fell asleep?”
“Only for a few minutes, I think,” Theo said. “And totally understandable.”
“We need to get moving,” Ky told her. “I need to get you out of here, out of the city.”
“Where?”
“That’s what we’ve been trying to figure out,” Theo said. “It seems as if no place is out of this wacko’s reach so far.”
Ky shot him a speaking glace, then looked back at Gemma.
Before he could say a word, she swallowed and said, “I have an idea.”