Holding his Hostage - Amy Gamet Page 0,41
a seated position on the bed. “Put your head between your knees. Take slow, even breaths.” She did as he said.
“Gavin and Asher are in a chopper on their way here,” said Mac, typing into his phone. “I’ll reroute them to Wiseman’s cabin to protect your family.”
As much as Sloan wanted them protected, he was keenly aware they had limited resources and the need for men here. “We’re going to need them. Get Evelyn and the kids to a safe location—without any of their damn devices—then I want Gavin and Asher back.”
If there was one thing he hated, it was not knowing what he was up against. That could easily lead to the team being overpowered and a terrible outcome for April. He could hardly stand to think about it. He looked pointedly at Mac. “Who else can you spare?”
“Chop and Razorback.”
Sloan cursed under his breath. It wasn’t enough. “We have to win this one, Mac.”
“I know.” The older man nodded sagely, as if he could see how important this mission was to him personally. “I’ll call Trace and Moto back from Wyoming. They should be able to make it in time.”
Joanne slowly sat up, her hand clutching his arm. She looked utterly shaken. “What if McKenzie won’t give us the money?”
“Then we fake it,” said Mac. “Use dummy bills, make the drop, and get your daughter back. We’ve done it before. Just don’t tell the US Marshals office.”
Sloan nodded. “It won’t fool them for long, but it could buy us crucial minutes to get April and get the hell out of there.” He touched her back lightly. “Are you able to walk? We need to get to the warehouse and find McKenzie.”
“Yes.” She stood, her legs visibly trembling. “Just let me grab my phone.”
Sloan crossed to Mac, lowering his voice. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this McKenzie character. She’s Joanne’s dead husband’s lover.”
Mac nodded. “Champ and I will stay on your six.”
They drove to the warehouse in the HERO Force SUV, arriving just after noon. In the light of day, the river gleamed a foreboding gray, whitecaps on the surface from the heavy wind. The building itself was made of brick, a faded sign painted across the windowless facade reading POUGHKEEPSIE PLUMBING SUPPLY.
Sloan convinced Joanne to wait in the car while he, Mac, and Champion headed for the office they’d investigated last night. This time he carried pepper spray, a weapon for an animal that might or might not appear, and wore the same pack on his back that he had last night.
He knew something was wrong as soon as he saw the office door standing slightly ajar. He drew his weapon, the other men doing the same. When he reached the entrance, he stood to the side before kicking it open with one leg and moving into the doorframe.
Everything was gone. Every paper, everything that had been on the desks and shelves except the plumbing parts on the tables. He carefully moved inside, clearing the room as he went, and opened the filing cabinet where they’d hit pay dirt last night. It, too, was empty. “Son of a bitch.” He ran a hand through his hair. McKenzie had gotten wind of their visit last night and was gone.
“This was all full of paperwork. Records, that sort of thing.” He sighed heavily. “Let’s check the warehouse. We never made it in there last night.”
He drew his weapon, again holding it at the ready. There were two weathered metal doors that seemed to lead to that area. It was dark inside and the glass dirty, making it impossible to see into the warehouse without going in.
The door squeaked loudly as he pulled it open, the combination of mold and rust assaulting his nose. It was dark, dank, and very cold, making him wonder if the heat was turned on at all. He pulled a flashlight from his pack as Mac and Champion did the same.
Row upon row of tall industrial racks filled the space, boxes on more than half of them. Near the ceiling, a catwalk encircled the entire warehouse, a long walkway bisecting the space to connect the two sides. The sound of running water came from deeper in the building, and Sloan followed it, looking for the source.
Halfway down an exterior wall, a series of old metal pipes ran from the ceiling to the floor, an ice sculpture forming where one of them had burst. He followed the flow of water to an open grate, a throwback