Elizabeth Lowell - The Wrong Hostage

Her heart soared when she saw Lane’s head.

And sank when she realized that he was cuffed to Hector.

I’ll have to get close to shoot. Very close .

Six inches.

She doubted Hector was that foolish.

Hector crowded out of the hole behind Lane so quickly that the boy tripped. Using the handcuffs and a casual strength that shocked Grace, Hector levered Lane right into the line of fire from her pistol.

“Mom!”

Using the cuffed hand, Hector backhanded Lane. “Shut up.”

Forcing herself to keep the pistol steady, she spoke urgently to Lane. “Do as he says. It’s almost over. Soon you’ll be free.”

It cost every bit of Grace’s strength, but she kept the pistol steady.

Trip again, Lane. Go down hard and fast. Stay down .

Please, God .

Joe, where are you?

Are you even alive?

Hector laughed at Grace as he strode away from the bathroom, closing the distance between them. “Now you take my orders, yes?”

She drew a hidden breath and sighted past her own son’s head, letting Hector see the deadly black eye of her gun.

He slowed, then stopped ten feet from her.

“Unlock Lane,” she said.

“Give me Franklin.”

“Not until Lane is free.”

“How I know Franklin is here?” Hector said.

“Speak up, Ted.”

Silence.

She glanced in the direction of Franklin’s hiding place. He had a look of terror on his face.

“Say something,” she snarled, “or I’ll shoot you myself.”

“Dad?” Lane asked, not able to stop himself. “Did you really come for me?”

The sound Franklin made wasn’t a word.

Hector pointed his pistol in the direction of Franklin’s voice. The bloodred laser beam probed the shadows.

Franklin saw the light, made another throttled sound, and shrank from the beam.

Grace sensed as much as saw a movement in the bathroom. Silently, slowly, like a bloody ghost, Faroe rose up out of the hole in the floor. His right arm was covered with blood. There was a gun in his left hand.

The wrong hand .

Dear God .

Grace’s eyes locked with Faroe’s. He jerked his head to one side, warning her not to give him away. Instantly she shifted her glance.

Dragging Lane, Hector was walking toward Franklin’s hiding place, getting farther away from her and Faroe with every step.

“Stop!” Grace shouted.

She took several steps toward Hector, hoping to distract him from Faroe.

Hector swung his pistol. The red dot of death settled between Grace’s eyes.

“Let Lane go,” she said, ignoring the red beam. “Now.”

“No,” Hector said angrily. “Franklin!”

Twenty feet away, Grace kept her pistol aimed at Hector’s face and wished to hell Harley had given her a pistol with a laser sight. Hector was using Lane as a shield.

Six inches .

Maybe even twelve .

How close do you have to be, Joe?

But that was one question she couldn’t ask.

“The instant you get Franklin,” Grace said, “you’ll kill everyone to protect your tunnel. Turn Lane loose. Now!”

One second.

Two.

Three.

Four.

With a sound of terror, Ted Franklin snapped. He broke cover, racing for the door, for freedom.

Hector whipped his pistol toward the sound. He fired once while the laser spot was still moving.

The sound was deafening.

The laser spot settled on Franklin’s fleeing back. Hector fired twice more. Franklin landed facedown and didn’t move.

While the shots echoed Faroe was running, had been running since the instant the red dot left Grace’s forehead.

Now the dot was swinging back toward her.

Knowing he was too far away to be certain of missing Lane, Faroe yelled to distract Hector.

Hector spun toward the unexpected attack. For an instant he was shocked by the sight of a blood-soaked man running toward him, sighting along the pistol he held in his left hand. When Hector recognized Faroe, the Mexican snapped his cuffed arm over his hostage’s head and yanked Lane close. Even as Hector started to point the pistol at Lane’s head, he saw that Faroe was alone.

Eyes wide with horror, Lane saw that the bloody man running toward them was Joe Faroe.

With a flick of his wrist, Hector pointed the laser spot at Faroe’s left side and fired.

Faroe took the shot, spun around, and kept on coming.

The red dot settled on Faroe’s head.

Lane sank his teeth deep into Hector’s arm, lashed out at his gun hand, and threw himself to the floor.

Hector’s shot ricocheted wildly around the hangar.

Grace’s shot didn’t. Hector was dead before he hit the cement.

Faroe smiled even as his world went black.

So long, Hector. See you in hell .

SAN DIEGO

TUESDAY AFTERNOON

IMMEDIATE FAMILY ONLY

NO MORE THAN TWO VISITORS AT A TIME

LANE LOOKED AT THE sign on the heavy wooden door of the intensive care unit, then at his mother.

“Maybe I should wait out here,” he said.

“It doesn’t get any more immediate than you and Joe,” Grace said.

“I’m still having a hard time getting my mind around it.”

“The fact that your biological parents are human, and your legal father is all too human?”

“Uh, yeah.”

She gave Lane a hug even as she regretted the new lines of tension around his eyes. He looked-and was-years older than he had been a month ago.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Most kids don’t have to deal with their parents being people until they’re twice your age. Most adults never have to go through what you did. And in case I haven’t mentioned it, I’m very proud of you.”

“Ambassador Steele said the same thing. So did Cook.”

“So will Joe, if he’s awake.”

So would Ted, if he wasn’t such a jerk .

But he was, and two bullets in the back hadn’t changed that. When she and Lane had gone to see Ted in the next room over, he’d pretended to be asleep.

“I know this isn’t easy,” she said. “There’s a lot to sort out, for all of us. Life has…changed.”

Lane made a sound that could have been a laugh. “Ya think?” Then he hugged her hard. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. You walked away from your career and risked your life for me. I love you, Mom. I just wish I’d known.”

“About Joe?”

“Yeah. I guess. I don’t know.”

She almost smiled. “Sometimes Joe affects me the same way. But you should know that I love him very much.”

“I already figured that out.” When you ran past Dad and cried all over Joe .

Lane still didn’t like to think how he’d done the same thing just as soon as he’d taken the key from Hector’s pocket and unlocked the cuffs.

It’s not that I don’t love Dad .

It’s just that I don’t like him .

“I like Joe,” Lane said. “Hell-heck-I’m not the first kid to have two fathers, right? How does he feel about it?”

“Joe?”

“Yeah.”

“Ask him.”

Grace opened the door, saw that Faroe was sitting up, and went quickly to his side. He was pale and his mouth was tight with pain. The bullet had missed all organs, but it had ripped a hole in the rest. She kissed him gently, then took his left hand and cradled it against her cheek.

“You look like hell,” she said.

“You don’t.” Faroe slid his hand around her neck and urged her down for a better kiss. “You smell like heaven. Want to break me out of this joint?”

Lane cleared his throat.

“He knows,” Grace said as soon as Faroe released her mouth.

“Then he shouldn’t be surprised to see us kissing.” Faroe held his good hand out to Lane. “How about a left-handed shake?”