Tactical Force

Jack took the phone from her and read through the messages, his face growing tighter, a muscle ticking in his jaw by the time he finished. “I take it you didn’t read the last two messages.”

Anne frowned. “I had other things on my mind, and I’d hoped by ignoring the texts, whoever had sent them would just go away.” She snorted. “Obviously, that didn’t happen.”

“Read them.” Jack pushed the cell phone beneath her nose.

Anne focused on the words.

Destroy your phone.

They will track you with it.

“If whoever did this to your apartment can track you using your phone, you need to ditch that phone. The sooner the better.” Jack pulled his own cell phone from his back pocket and snapped pictures of the messages on Anne’s cell phone. He glanced up at her. “Sorry, but it must be done.” He dismantled the phone, pulled the SIM card from it, dropped the card into the kitchen’s garbage disposal and ground it into oblivion. Then he placed the phone on the floor and stomped his heel into the screen.

“I need to get pictures of the message on the wall. Wait here,” he said and disappeared into her bedroom. When he returned to the living room, he sent the pictures to someone and placed a call.

“We’re headed your way. We could be bringing a tail… Good. See you in a few.”

“What was that all about?” Anne asked.

“I sent the images to my boss. We’ve got a couple of computer wizzes who can do some poking around to see what they can find.” He took the gym bag from her hand and led the way down the stairs toward the parking lot. He made her wait in the stairwell until he was certain the parking lot was safe.

Jack strapped the bag onto the back of the bike and went back to collect Anne. Slipping an arm around her, he shielded her body with his and walked her to the motorcycle.

Once they’d both mounted the bike, Anne leaned over Jack’s shoulder. “Are you taking me to a hotel? I have nowhere else to go,” she said, her heart flipping in her chest and the tears rushing to fill her eyes. She couldn’t go to a friend’s house. Not with Trinity looking for her.

Jack shook his head. “We’re going to Charlie’s.”

Anne wondered whether everything would have gone on as usual if she’d ignored the first text message. Had she set the course of events by responding? And now that her phone was destroyed, the mysterious texter wouldn’t have a way to contact her. Somehow, that didn’t give her any sense of relief. Quite the opposite.

JACK DROVE OUT the other end of the apartment complex, choosing a circuitous route to Charlie’s estate.

He kept an eye on the small rearview mirror mounted on his handlebar, searching for headlights and praying he didn’t find any.

Avoiding the main roads, he wove his way through suburbs and backroads until he finally found himself on the road to the Halverson estate.

If anything was going to happen, it would happen here. It stood to reason that if they had hacked into her phone and knew she’d received messages from someone trying to stop Trinity, they would know she’d place a call to Charlie Halverson.

Since a prior attempt to break into the estate, Charlie had beefed up security and built a stronger wall to keep people out and protect those on the inside. That would be the best place to take Anne.

Getting there unscathed was the plan.

Someone else had other plans for them.

Jack turned onto the quiet country highway leading to the Halverson estate. With eight miles of curvy roads ahead, he couldn’t let his guard down for a moment.

As he rounded a sharp bend in the road, a delivery truck darted out of a side road and stopped in the middle of the road, effectively blocking both lanes of traffic.

Warning bells went off in Jack’s head. “Hang on,” he called out.

Instead of slowing, Jack sped up, aiming straight for the truck.

As he neared, he noted men climbing out of the cab, AR-15s in their hands.

Damn. They’d brought serious weapons to the party.

He swerved at the last moment, taking the motorcycle off the road and down into the shallow ditch, praying Anne could hold on long enough to make it out on the other side.

Her arms tightened around him as they bumped over the rough terrain. At one point he thought the bike might turn over, and then it would be all over for them. Somehow, he managed to right the front tire, gunned the accelerator and sent them popping up over the shoulder and back onto the road. A couple sets of headlights headed toward him, but there was no going back.

Jack powered forward, ready to take to the ditches again if necessary.

The trucks remained on the correct side of the road. As they approached, they slowed.

Jack’s hand squeezed tighter on the throttle, preparing to twist it to make the bike go faster.

Then he saw that the lead truck was Declan’s black four-wheel drive and the one following belonged to Mack Balkman. Declan passed him and turned his truck sideways, blocking one lane of the rural road, using the big vehicle as a shield to protect the two people on the motorcycle.

Mack did the same, blocking the other lane.

Jack noted there was a passenger in each vehicle. Probably Gus Walsh and Frank “Mustang” Ford. Cole was probably helping Charlie’s computer guy, Jonah Spradlin, look into the texts from Anne’s phone history.

A guard stood at the electric gate to the Halverson estate, armed with his own AR-15 rifle and a powerful spotlight.

When Jack rode up to the closed gate, the guard shined the light into his face.

“It’s me,” Jack said. “Jack Snow. And I have Anne Bellamy with me.”

The guard shifted the light to the woman on the back of the motorcycle. A moment later, the gate opened and Jack drove through.

He’d never been quite so content to drive the winding road to the sprawling house at the end, knowing his team had his back, and the fence, gate and guards would see to their safety.

As he pulled up to a stop in front of the massive entrance, the door opened and Cole McCastlain emerged. Charlie Halverson stepped out behind him, followed by her assistant, Grace Lawrence, and her butler, Roger Arnold.

“I understand you’ve had a little excitement tonight.” Cole grinned and held out a hand to help Anne from the back of the motorcycle.

She nodded and half fell against Cole. “Sorry, I’m a little wobbly after going cross-country on the back of Mr. Snow’s motorcycle.”

Cole chuckled. “I don’t blame you. I’m always a little wobbly after riding a motorcycle. You have to ride often to build up the muscles needed to be comfortable on one.”

“Good to know,” Anne said. “Not that I plan on riding one ever again, if I can help it.”

“Oh, honey,” Grace said, moving forward with a smile. “We never say never around here.” She held out her hand. “I’m Grace Lawrence, Charlie’s assistant.” She turned to the older woman. “This is Charlie Halverson. John Halverson’s widow.”

“Mrs. Halverson, words are not enough to thank you for coming to my rescue. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t.”

“Please, call me Charlie. Mrs. Halverson was my husband’s mother.” She smiled and took both of Anne’s hands in hers. “I’m glad Jack could help. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re safe now. Please, come inside.”

Anne glanced back at Jack. “Thank you.”