No Strings Attached: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Eight (13 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Agent Clark brought me her phone about fifteen minutes later. I immediately downloaded the materials from Kip onto my laptop.

Agents Knott and Clark, as well as Slash, watched as I pulled up the kid’s student ID and studied it.

“I’m 99.9 percent certain this is him,” I said after magnifying the picture.

“99.9 percent?” Agent Knott said. “How can you be so sure?”

I tapped on the right corner of Lin Yee’s lip. “See that scar here? The same kid who met me in the bar had that same scar in the same position just above his lip. You can corroborate this with Kip and the composite we created. I would say I’m one hundred percent certain, but there is a 1 in 945,700 chance another man this exact age with the identical facial characteristics could have this exact scar in the same place. But, obviously, it’s not likely.”

I looked up and saw Agents Knott and Clark staring at me in a weird way. “What’s wrong? Do I have something in my teeth?” I picked at the front of them.

“No, you’re fine.” Agent Clark exchanged a glance with Knott. “How about the voice imprint? Can you give us your opinion on that?”

I pressed the play button and listened to a part of a conversation he was having with what sounded like a friend. Lin’s phone had been tapped. They were talking about a class and, not surprisingly, some girl. But I recognized the voice, inflection and even the tone.

“It’s him. The kid who passed me the money and the hack. One hundred percent certainty on this one.”

Agent Knott opened his mouth to say something, but instead shut it. He walked out of the room, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, presumably to alert the FBI of my findings.

Agent Clark thanked me and gave me a smile before she left. I was starting to like her. She and I seemed to have a lot in common—two women working in male-dominated fields and somehow holding our own.

Slash had continued to work on his laptop while I’d interacted with the agents. He’d apparently had a breakthrough because his eyes got this weird feverish look that hackers get when they are on to something exciting. That was definitely a positive development.

“Agent Knott thinks I’m a freak,” I commented.

“He doesn’t understand how our minds work.” He kept typing. “Sometimes different can be scary or difficult to understand.”

“I know that.” Still, I liked how he implied
we
when referring to our minds. It was important to be included among my peers, even if we were misunderstood.

We worked for several more hours before calling it a night. When we finally crawled into bed it was one forty-seven in the morning. It was early by hacker standards, but we hadn’t been sleeping much lately. We mutually decided to stop now and start fresh in the morning.

I dreamed I was in a giant fishbowl being chased around by a school of ferocious piranhas when one latched on to my arm. I tried to brush it off when I realized it wasn’t a fish.

“Wake up.” Slash had his hand on my upper arm.

I rolled over to my side, rested my head on my palm. “What’s wrong?”

He held up a hand, motioning for me to be silent. A dog barked outside in the distance. Slash sat up. “Something’s not right.”

“How can you extrapolate that from a dog barking?”

He didn’t answer, but slid out of bed and pulled on his jeans. “Let me check in with the agents in the living room.”

He picked up his gun from the nightstand. “I know it’s an odd request, but get dressed, okay? Keep it dark in here. I’ll be right back.”

He left the door ajar and I heard the murmur of voices from the living room. Light spilled in through the door. I had no idea what was going through his head, but I quickly pulled on my jeans, T-shirt and a sweatshirt. I was just tying the laces on my tennis shoes when Slash appeared in the doorway. He’d moved so silently, I jumped when I saw him.

“Jeez.” I pressed my hand to my heart. “You almost gave me a heart attack. What’s going on?”

“We’re about to have company. The FBI agents outside aren’t responding. We have to assume they’ve been neutralized.” He now had a gun in each hand.

“Neutralized?”

“The police are on the way. But they aren’t going to make it in time.”

“In time for what?”

“In time to stop this.” He cupped my cheek with his hand. He was still naked from the waist up, but he didn’t seem cold. I could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Hide in the closet.” He pressed a gun in my hand. My fingers closed around it without thinking. It was cold and heavy.

“Why can’t I stay with you?”

“I’m going to draw their fire and I don’t want you anywhere near that. Crouch in the back and make yourself as small a target as possible. You can shoot through the closet door as needed, but it may affect your aim, so keep that in mind. Remember how we practiced using the gun? Hold it steady and aim straight. No hesitation. Listen to me,
cara
, shoot to kill, okay? This isn’t practice anymore.”

I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with my boyfriend. Most couples talked about the weather, who got to hold the remote and whether the vegetable lasagna was better than the meat-stuffed ravioli. But no, my boyfriend and I had discussions about the best way to kill intruders while in hiding in an FBI safe house. Still, he needed to focus and I didn’t want him distracted or worried about me, so I sucked it up and nodded.

“Okay. What exactly are you going to do?”

He pointed to the far corner in the room. “I’m going to be over there so I can watch both the door and the windows.” He flicked off the light in the hall and we plunged into darkness. It was silent from the living room and I had to assume the agents were taking their positions, as well. I had to trust they could do their job.

It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. A little moonlight shone through the part in the curtain. Slash grabbed his shirt off the back of the chair and pulled it over his head, then shoved his bare feet into his boots.

There was a loud popping noise and a shout from the living room. Slash glanced at me. “Go. Now.”

My heart thudding, I stepped into the empty closet and closed the door. I pressed my back against the wall. I could see through the slits in the upper half of the closet door. My hands were shaking so badly I hoped I wouldn’t shoot myself by accident and save whoever was coming the trouble.

There was shouting and more shots. My heart thundered.

They were coming for us.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

A barrage of shots came from the living room.
Holy war zone!

I inched sideways so I had a partial view of the doorway through the door slits. A figure appeared there with a gun out. I stopped breathing. He was headed directly for the closet, as if he knew I was in there. I lifted the gun, but I was shaking so badly I couldn’t keep a steady aim.

He had his hand on the closet handle when Slash shot him. The man dropped, rolled toward the bed and continued to shoot at Slash’s position. Realizing Slash was trapped between the wall and the bed, I opened the closet door and fired at the guy’s back.

Unfortunately, nerves, bad lighting and not enough practice in stressful situations, caused me to completely miss him. Instead I shattered a wall sconce beside him, startling him as glass rained down. As he pivoted to shoot me, Slash shot him in the back.

“Down,” Slash yelled at me.

I dropped prone to the floor, the gun bouncing out of my hand just as another guy entered the room, shooting. His focus was on Slash, so he took one step and tripped over me. Terrified, I grappled with him, trying to keep the gun pointed away from me. Slash almost immediately fell on top of us, not daring to shoot. I got clocked in the left ear before the men rolled off me, grunting, punching and basically trying to kill each other.

I scrambled to all fours, panting. No idea what to do. There was no sound from the living room, so I had to believe the FBI agents were either down or killed. I had to do something to help Slash.

I spotted the gun that had belonged to the guy Slash had shot first. I grabbed it, rolling to my feet like an actor in a bad action movie. Unfortunately, the gun was completely unfamiliar. It was a big rifle-style thingy with a shoulder strap. I didn’t have time to slip the strap over my shoulder so I braced it against my hip and hoped for the best.

Just as I lifted it, a third guy skidded down the hall and into the doorway, scaring the bejesus out of me. It wasn’t an FBI agent. The ski mask and gun pointed at me gave him away.

Shoot to kill.
No hesitation
.

Before he even slid to a stop, I squeezed the trigger.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat.
Rat-a-tat-tat.

Holy machine gun!

The recoil knocked me backward into the closet door. Bullets sprayed across the doorway and up onto the ceiling. A huge chunk of the ceiling fell down, taking out the guy in the hallway. I continued to whirl around in a crazy dance with the gun. Slash and the bad guy he was grappling with took one look at me and both rolled for cover in separate directions.

I staggered around, spraying every freaking thing in the room. I tried to keep it away from Slash’s direction as much as I could, but I wasn’t entirely sure I succeeded. I shot the mirror, the dresser, two lamps, the remaining wall sconce, and made a circular mosaic on the wall before exploding both windows and sending glass flying everywhere.

Mother of God
,
would this thing ever stop?

Finally the gun fell silent and slid from my hands.

A single shot split the air. I staggered backward, touching my abdomen. No blood, no pain. No nothing.

Was I dying?

“Slash?” I whispered, my voice wavering. “Are you okay?”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The wail of a police siren sounded. It seemed as if hours had passed, but I figured the whole thing had had taken less than two minutes.

A dark shape lifted off the floor. “Slash?” I whispered louder.

Broken glass crunched and I heard a thud. “
Cara
, are you okay? Are you shot?”

“No, I’m fine, I think.” I wiggled my legs and arms. Everything seemed attached and healthy except for the spots that danced in front of my eyes. My ears were ringing from the shooting and the hit to the head. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. Keep your voice down. You’re shouting.”

I was surprised by how calm he seemed in spite of the sheer number of bullets that had just been fired in one small room.

I blinked and saw the dark shape of him kneeling next to the man in the doorway.

“Did I...kill him?”

Slash stood. “No. He’s still alive, but unconscious.”

That was a relief even though the guy had been trying to kill me. “What about the guy you were just rolling around on the floor with?”

“He’s dead. The guy I shot first is dead, too.”

There was no remorse, no relief, no nothing in his voice. Just cold, hard facts.

I heard a snapping noise and realized Slash was cuffing the guy in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“This one will talk.”

He suddenly materialized beside me. “What in the hell were you doing jumping out of the closet like that?”

My mind was still trying to process what had just happened. I couldn’t believe I was still alive. “Well, you were trapped between the bed and the wall. I figured I could serve as a distraction so you could shoot him.”

He pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss against my forehead. “Don’t you
ever
do that again.
Ever
. You will never risk your life for mine. Understood?”

“I can honestly say I hope I never have to do that again.”

He pressed my head to his chest, holding me close. “But you did good. Cool under pressure, picking up that gun.”

“I lost mine, so I picked his up. But that gun had a mind of its own. Are you sure I didn’t hit you?”

“I’m sure. But you hit just about everything else.” Despite what we’d just been through, there was a trace of amusement in his voice. “We need to spend some more time on perfecting your aim.

“I couldn’t stop it.”

“I know.” He brushed his fingers across my cheek. Leaning over, he picked up the gun. “It’s an Uzi. No wonder you had a tough time. Still, we’re both still alive and unharmed, so that makes it a very good day.”

If
that
was a good day, I’d hate to see his bad ones.

He handed me his gun and took the Uzi. “Stay here. I’ve got to make sure the rest of the house is clear.” I heard a snap and realized he was reloading. “It’s quiet now, but I have to check on the agents.”

I stayed where I was. Although I strained to listen, I didn’t hear him. He moved like a ninja. All I could hear was the fading ring in my ears, the rapid beat of my heart and the wail of multiple sirens, all of which were getting louder.

“Let’s go,” Slash said next to me. I jumped. I hadn’t heard him enter the room again, let alone approach me. “The house is clear, but all the agents inside are down.”

“Down as in dead?”

“No. It’s a miracle, but they’re all alive. Agent Knott is the most gravely injured, but there’s nothing I can do for him at this point. The police and ambulance will be here shortly.” He slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. “We’ve got to get out of here. Now.”

I looked at him, stunned. “Whoa. Wait. Leave? Are you nuts? The police are coming.”

“Exactly. We have to go. Now.”

I dug in my heels, resisting his pull on my arm. “Slash, people are
injured
. People are
dead
. We’re the only witnesses left who can tell them what happened. Not to mention, it’s illegal to leave the scene of a crime.”

“I assure you, we’ll tell them what happened, but after we are safe. The police and FBI have a leak. That leak was high enough to tip someone off to our location. That means whoever is hunting us has a reach that extends way beyond the police department to the highest echelons of the FBI. Trust me, we are safer alone than in protective custody of the feds at this point.”

I believed him, but I was pretty sure his bosses wouldn’t see it that way. “The FBI isn’t going to like this. The NSA won’t either.”

“No, they won’t. But we’re still going to do it.”

Seeing as how I couldn’t deter him from this course of action, I snatched my purse and laptop. Since I’d left my computer on the floor next to the bed, it had miraculously escaped being shot to pieces. Slash grabbed our jackets, tossing me mine. I put it on as we headed out the back door.

Slash led me across the backyard, his gun still drawn. I heard the screech of tires out front as we slipped into the neighbor’s backyard and down the street. A dog barked and Slash took my hand, squeezing it.

“Where are we going?” I whispered, stumbling behind him in the dark.

“A couple of streets over. I’m going to hot-wire a car.”

“Hot-wire, as in steal? Do I want to know
why
or
how
you can hot-wire a car?”

We passed under a spotlight and he glanced at me over his shoulder. “No.”

Dogs were barking madly now, but we moved quickly. We tried four cars before we found one that was unlocked. It was a beat-up white, two-door Chevy truck that no one in their right mind would steal...except for us. Which was probably why they left it unlocked.

Slash pulled the passenger door open wider, motioning for me to get in. He wasn’t kidding. We were stealing a car. I felt really bad about taking it, but hopefully, since we were doing it in the name of national security, the owner would be properly compensated.

Slash hopped in on the other side and reached under the steering wheel.

“Can you open your phone and aim it my way?” he asked.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my burner phone, shining it toward him. He pulled on some wires and pressed them together until the car started.

“Wow,” I said impressed. “That was fast. Will you teach me that someday?”

“If you promise to use the skill only in the name of national security.” He pulled away from the curb.

The comment brought a weak smile to my lips. I put my laptop and purse on the floor between my legs and fastened the seat belt. Leaning back in the seat, I tried to pretend I wasn’t unnerved to have been stalked by armed intruders, stolen a car, and left the scene of a crime where people were killed and seriously injured.

Jeez.

My knees were shaking.

Slash noticed and put a hand on my knee, calming it. “
Cara
, look at me.”

I turned my head and he took his eyes off the road for a moment. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I mean it.”

“I know. I believe you.” I did. I trusted Slash with my life. But I had to admit it was a little disconcerting to see him in action. His focus in that room, and right now, was singularly dangerous and...violent. It was almost as if another version of Slash had taken over at the safe house and he was staying for the time being.

Slash drove down several small side streets and made a couple of U-turns until he was satisfied we weren’t being followed. He kept a laser-focus on the rearview mirror and any headlights that appeared behind us.

“Where are we going?” I asked after the zillionth U-turn.

“Somewhere safe. But first I need supplies.”