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in a deep breath, then sprinted for the truck, her head swinging from side to side as she ran.

Movement!

She pulled up short, aiming her weapon at the two men who raced toward her from the front side of the shipping container she’d just left.

“FBI! Stop right there!”

The men halted, their chests heaving. She instantly recognized them as the two men who’d been with Coffeeshop Man, the ones who’d gone the other direction. Coffeeshop Man must have been texting them earlier.

A large handgun, maybe a Desert Eagle, hung from the hand of the man on the right.

“Drop the weapon.”

Neither man moved.

“Drop. The. Weapon.” She racked the slide. “I won’t ask again.”

Desert Eagle Man waited only a second longer before crouching and setting it on the ground.

Sweat tickled between her shoulder blades.

Now what? She could hardly arrest them and cover them with a weapon at the same time.

Plus, what grounds did she have to arrest them? Unless they didn’t have a permit for that weapon, she didn’t have probable cause to arrest either of them. They technically hadn’t done anything wrong.

Yet.

Something told her that they would, if she gave them the chance.

She needed to get out of here. Before they could do something arrest-worthy.

Scooting over to the semitruck, she angled her body so the truck was at her back. At least no one could sneak up behind her now.

If she could distract these two for a minute, maybe she could buy enough time to get away.

She pulled out her handcuffs and tossed them toward the men.

“Pick them up. Slowly.”

Desert Eagle Man didn’t move, but the other man complied.

“You’re going to walk to that shipping container, thread the cuffs around one of those metal bars at the end, and cuff yourselves together. If you stop, I will shoot you.” Her tone left no room for argument and conveyed none of the fear churning her stomach. “Go.”

Neither man moved.

Fire rocketed through her left foot and a small cry bubbled out.

She looked down.

A knife stuck through her tennis shoe. Blood darkened the top of the shoe.

A hand briefly appeared, jerked out the knife, then vanished underneath the truck.

Something crashed into her. She caught a glimpse of Desert Eagle Man’s face as she flew through the air and slammed into the ground.

An explosion of agony traveled up her body. Her head cracked against the asphalt.

Lights flashed in her vision before fading into darkness.

Eighteen

Tio crawled out from beneath the semitruck, brushing the gravel and debris from his shirt and jeans.

He should have shot her.

Would have too, if not for Mitch.

Once he’d suspected someone was following him, he’d texted Zane.

Hadn’t caught a glimpse of her until he saw her facing off with his men, but he’d instantly recognized her.

Killing her would kill his leverage with Mitch. Might even drive Mitch straight to the Feds.

No. He didn’t know what he was going to do with her, but he couldn’t kill her.

At least not yet.

What a mess! First Lorelei, and now this.

With an FBI agent missing, the heat would really be on.

He’d have to relocate. Maybe leave the city.

Zane approached, the unconscious woman slung over his shoulder. “Taking her inside?”

“Yes.” For now. “Put her in one of the operating rooms. And ditch her phone far away from here.”

It would only buy them a little time, but he’d take whatever time he could get. Moving the business would require a lot of work. He’d have to reschedule the upcoming surgeries, load the cargo containers, and line up a freighter to move everything.

Then they could disappear.

And Agent Taylor would disappear with them.

₪   ₪   ₪

Confirm status.

Dak stared at the text he’d sent Kevyn two minutes ago. Why hadn’t she responded?

He had a bad feeling about this.

As much as he wanted to, he didn’t dare call her. If she was following someone and had failed to put her phone on silent, he’d alert them to her position.

While her phone probably was on silent, he couldn’t take that chance.

He started his car and called Sid on his hands-free device.

“Hey. I’m almost back to the docks.” Sid’s casual tone contrasted sharply with the tension coiled in Dak’s muscles.

The dock.

He turned his Jeep toward the waterfront. “I got a weird text from Kevyn and she’s not responding.”

“What?” Alarm carried into his ear. “Her car’s still here. I’m turning into the lot now.”

“I’m not far from the waterfront. Wait for me.” After obtaining the address from Sid, Dak hung up and stomped on the accelerator.

Please, God. Let me be imagining trouble. Protect her.

Somehow, he didn’t think he was imaging anything.

Frankly, she needed protection. All the time. She had a habit of jumping into things without thinking.

What part of “no lone wolf” had she not understood? How could she go barreling into this – whatever this was – alone?

The light turned red ahead of him and he slowed, drumming his fingers violently against the steering wheel as he waited for the oh-so-slow light to change.

At least she’d sent him a picture.

That would help identify the man. Maybe.

The back view wasn’t terribly identifiable.

The man’s surroundings, however, were. He should be able to find the man’s route, at least part of it, based upon the surroundings in the photograph.

He pulled into the lot, spotting the Bureau-issued vehicle before Sid opened the door and stepped out. Parking two spaces away, he checked his phone. Still no response from Kevyn and it’d been ten minutes.

He sent another text, then exited the vehicle.

He fell into step beside Sid as Sid led the way toward the docks. “Fill me in. Condensed version.”

It all sounded fine, even Kevyn remaining behind

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