Countdown Read online

  She raised her eyebrows and looked at him. Confusion lined her forehead. James shook his own seat belt as he clicked it into place with his left hand.

  “Oh.” She followed his example as he turned the key in the ignition with his right hand. The door to the house burst open.

  “Stop,” a man in a black suit hollered. He whipped a gun out from the holster underneath his suit jacket and aimed the weapon at the windshield.

  FIVE

  Rachel’s heart went into overdrive at the sight of the weapon. Her body stiffened and her fingernails dug deep into the sides of the leather seat. The man kept the gun level at the driver’s side of the windshield.

  “Shift to Reverse.” James spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “While he’s focused on me.”

  He had to be joking. Rachel stared at the gun. One move of the trigger finger and James would be shot. The man took one step down the garage steps, but his weapon remained on target.

  The man narrowed his eyes and yelled, “Hands up.”

  James slowly began to lift his hands. “Rachel.” His voice sounded like a plea.

  “He’s a bad man, Daddy!” one of the boys cried.

  The little voice was her undoing. So much could go wrong, but the alternative meant being in the gunman’s control. She’d had more than her share of interactions with arrogant, adrenaline-filled crooks with guns. It never ended well.

  Rachel slipped her left hand to the gearshift and shoved it down into Reverse.

  The car shot backward. Her head bounced off the headrest as the car smashed against the garage door. The screech of aluminum filled the air as the garage door buckled. James must have floored it.

  His hands snatched the steering wheel as the car shot into the street. He swung the car around, and her hands hit the dashboard as he shifted into Drive.

  Shards of the left mirror exploded and bounced off the driver’s-side window. It mimicked the sound of hail during a thunderstorm. An involuntary scream tore out of her mouth as the wheels squealed and the car sped down the street.

  The boys’ screeches overpowered hers. “Were you hit?” She turned to find the boys petrified in their booster seats. Little teardrops rolled down their cheeks, but they fell silent. No sign of blood or injury.

  James said nothing, but his face paled.

  Rachel peeked in the right-side mirror. Were they still shooting? Two men in suits were running to the black sedan in the cul-de-sac.

  She flung her gaze back to James. “Call the police. Have you called the police?”

  “I wish we could, but we can’t.” James zigzagged through the roads out of the subdivision. “Did you hear them? They have fake badges. They shot at us.”

  She unzipped her purse, hunting for her phone in the unorganized mess. “All the more reason to call.” If he wasn’t going to do it, she would.

  “No. Rachel, we’re dealing with people who are trying to launch a weapon in the sky.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “Imagine what kind of resources they have at their disposal. I won’t trust anyone with the safety of my sons until I hear from Derrick.” He lowered his voice so softly she almost didn’t hear him continue. “I’d die before I let one of those goons close enough to touch them.”

  Her fingertips found her phone at the bottom of the bag, but she hesitated to dial. She’d seen firsthand how much he loved his sons and his words only confirmed it. Her finger hovered over the screen. Her heart beat so loudly in her ears she struggled to think straight. “Is Derrick the contact you mentioned? The one from the NSA?”

  “Hold on.” He took a turn at a diagonal. “Yes. I need to speak with him, and I need to focus now. I’m driving straight to the police station to drop you off, but I’m begging you... Do not bring us into this. Please.”

  Rachel dropped the phone in her lap. She grabbed the handle on the ceiling and pressed her back into the seat. She needed her bearings. He took another curve. Ah, she knew where they were now. She pointed to her right. “Turn here.”

  “That’ll take me away from the main road.”

  She looked in the side mirror. So far she didn’t see the black sedan in view. That didn’t mean much, though. They could be only half a block away. “You want me to wait to call the police? Fine. But we need to do the unexpected. Trust me.”

  James glanced at her before he turned the wheel at the last second. Rachel’s head slammed into his strong shoulder from the momentum.

  “Sorry.”

  She strained to sit upright. “Drive through the community area.”

  He released an exasperated groan. “There’s no road.”

  Her hands itched to take the wheel herself, to be back in control. “I know. Drive through it. I’ve sat on that bench and watched teens do it. I called the police, but the point is it can be done.” She shoved a hand past his face, pointing. “Dart through there and you can get to a different exit out of the subdivision. They won’t see where we went. They won’t be able to follow us.” She spoke so rapidly she wasn’t sure if James caught it all.

  James shook his head. “Who’s ready for a roller coaster?” he asked drily.

  The car dove down the sudden decline and past the basketball court to the left. The whimpers in the back seat morphed into a strange mixture of crying and giggling, as if they didn’t know which emotion was called for at the moment.

  He didn’t decrease the acceleration as they went back up the hill and out onto a new street.

  “Take a right,” she said. She turned around to get a better view. No sedan in sight. Rachel turned back around. Her stomach roiled as she fought back a sudden rush of motion sickness. “I don’t think they saw us.”

  “Because they don’t believe I’m insane.”

  “Oh, but backing up through a garage door at gunpoint is perfectly reasonable?” Snarky comebacks came naturally, but she’d grown good at holding her tongue...until now. “Sorry. In times like these, instinct is your ally.” If only she didn’t know it to be true.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

  “Another time.” She exhaled, not willing to expound. They reached the main road, and he took a right, barely squeezing between two cars. The final signs of daylight disappeared as streetlights began to glow. Only the remaining light pink hue hung on the western horizon. “Do you know where we’re going?”

  “Whichever way is fastest to blend into traffic. After that, I’ll take you wherever you want.”

  “Wherever I want?” Rachel couldn’t believe he said it with all the nonchalance of a cab driver. “You just told me that those men—possibly part of a terrorist plot—are out to get me, and you’re glad to take me wherever I want?”

  He darted a glance to the back seat. Rachel cringed. She didn’t want to scare the boys but hopefully they didn’t know what the word “terrorist” meant.

  “I thought that’s what you wanted. The police station—”

  “I’m sorry. I took it the wrong way. I’m just stressed out. If you think Derrick is the key to safety, I’ll wait until you call him.”

  James shoulders sagged. “I can’t apologize enough for getting you involved in this.” He turned onto a main drag and headed for the freeway. He merged into the fastest lane and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.

  “Call Derrick,” he muttered into the phone’s speaker. The phone’s rings switched to the car speakers. “Would you mind handing me my Bluetooth in the console? I think it’s best this conversation not have an audience.” His eyes moved to the rearview mirror to check on the boys.

  Rachel found the accessory on top of a small storage container. James hit the turn signal to merge onto the freeway.

  “Keep your hands on the wheel,” she said. She leaned over and slipped the earpiece over his ear. Her fingertips b
rushed against light stubble and electricity shot up her arm. She jerked her hands back.

  “James?” A deep voice came through the speaker.

  James, seemingly unaware of Rachel’s response to touching him, reached up and pressed a button on the earpiece. The static sound disappeared from the car speakers. “Derrick,” he said. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”

  Rachel stared at the earpiece, wishing she could hear the other side of the conversation.

  “Daddy, can I have a snack?” Ethan asked. Caleb echoed his brother.

  Rachel put a finger over her mouth as James tried to catch Derrick up to speed. She remembered the lollipops she kept in her purse for after-lunch treats. Admitting she had an addiction to sugar was something she’d yet to do, but she’d found that indulging in one sweet thing after lunch kept her from snacking the rest of the day until dinner.

  Normally she’d seek their dad’s permission as it was probably past their normal dinnertime, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If James didn’t want them to hear Derrick’s side of the conversation, he probably didn’t want them to focus on the heated words on his end, either.

  Their eyes widened and focused on the candy she passed back. “Don’t let it spoil your supper, okay?”

  They grinned at each other and settled back into their seats to enjoy. Children are resilient. She’d heard that so much. But she hated the sentiment. They shouldn’t have to be. It was yet another reason she could never be a mother. She didn’t ever want children to have to be resilient because of her mistakes, which she felt certain she would make.

  How could someone who grew up with such a horrible upbringing ever be a good mother? They couldn’t, she told herself for the millionth time. She’d seen plenty of examples, and she refused to become another case study of evidence.

  * * *

  James finished explaining what had happened in the past few hours.

  Derrick was silent for a moment. “No, you’re right. I don’t think this was random.”

  “I agreed to help, Derrick, under the assumption we’d be taken care of. Now my family and my neighbor are in a...compromising position.” His jaw clenched. They weren’t the words he’d normally choose, but he floundered to find something suitable, with the boys as an audience, instead of words like kidnap, danger, guns and kill. “What do we do now?”

  Derrick’s sigh on the other side of the line sounded more like a muzzled growl. “You know this wasn’t part of the plan, James. I either have a mole inside the agency or someone impersonating an agent. Either way, we need to find out who is calling the shots.”

  James glanced in the rearview mirror. His gut lurched. A black sedan three cars back changed lanes. Another one six cars back stayed in his lane.

  He hadn’t taken the time to figure out what the model was when he’d looked out his home window, especially since it had been growing dark. The Charger’s automatic headlights flipped on as if in reply. “Derrick, straight up, I’m not interested in how you handle the case on your end. I’m calling because I want to know my neighbor and my kids are going to sleep safe and sound tonight. Is it safe for me to take Rachel to a friend’s house? I can get the boys to my brother’s tonight. Once I know they’re away from any threat, I’ll come back and do whatever you need.”

  “Which brother?”

  “The one in Oregon. You remember David and Aria.” James flinched at the memory. Right after Nikki’s funeral, David had come to stay with James for what he’d called “the transition.” Derrick and his wife, Cynthia, had arrived with dinner just as James lashed out at David for calling it such a thing. How could you ever transition from being with the woman you loved to living life with her gone...forever?

  “Hold off on that,” Derrick said, snapping him back to the present. “The reason I told you how I’m handling the case is in hopes you’d understand I can’t offer you protection at the drop of a hat. I need to pinpoint those I can trust and discover how far this goes. Offering you security in Oregon would take some time. And as far as your neighbor, I can’t guarantee they won’t continue to target her until I gather more intel. For now, I need you to stick together.”

  James glanced at Rachel. She watched him, her eyes moist with emotion. Knots ached behind his shoulder blades. How could he tell her they had nowhere to go?

  He checked the mirrors and switched lanes to take the next exit. Logically, he needed to identify if he did have a tail while Derrick was on the line. “What do you suggest I do, Derrick?” Everything had spun out of his control. Nothing but dead air answered for a full half minute. “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, I needed a moment to think,” Derrick finally said. “I need an hour to get a safe house and protection set up. Can you stay low while I do that?”

  He took the exit to the right. “An hour?” He pulled up to the stoplight, switched the turn clicker to the left. One black sedan sat two cars back, but no signal blinked on either side. There wasn’t an option to go straight. Was one or both of them tailing him?

  Rachel’s chin jutted forward, her eyes wide. “An hour?” Her whisper sounded incredulous.

  “I can’t stay put,” James continued. “I’m driving on the freeway hoping to blend into traffic.” And stay away from black sedans.

  “I understand, but I’m doing the best I can with limited resources. I need to do this right, James. For your own sake and those boys of yours. Surely you can see that.”

  James did, but he wasn’t satisfied with the answer.

  “Listen,” Derrick continued, “find someplace where you feel safe and sit tight for an hour. You still know how to check for a tail, I assume. I’ll contact you in sixty minutes, hopefully with some good news.”

  “I don’t know where—”

  “I’m sure you can think of somewhere. Choose somewhere unexpected where your boys feel safe. Gotta go.”

  “Derr—” A dial tone met his objection. He glanced to the side at Rachel, who stared at him with eager eyes. “Okay, I agree. Sounds good. See you in sixty minutes,” he said for her benefit then clicked off the button on his ear.

  “He hung up on you, huh?”

  If the situation weren’t slightly embarrassing, James might’ve laughed. He found it amusing that Rachel occasionally made statements that sounded like questions in the same way his sons did. She even nodded along like they did. It seemed like a handler’s technique to get you to agree. “Well, if you heard, you know what he said.”

  “Only the last bit.” Her eyes narrowed. “You know how to check for a tail?”

  James sighed. Thanks, Derrick. You’d think a NSA agent would learn to lower his voice over cell phones. “Thanks to television, doesn’t everyone?” It served as the most evasive answer he’d given in the past three years, ever since he had left the NSA. “You were right, though. They were looking for someone to use as leverage.”

  The light turned green. He swung the Charger around the bend and moved immediately to the left-turning lane to get back on the freeway. Horns honked behind him. Rachel leaned over to look out the side mirrors. “Black sedan,” she muttered. “Two of them.”

  James gunned it through a yellow turn light and merged back onto the freeway. “Make sure their seat belts are on correctly.”

  Rachel gulped. “They are,” she whispered.

  He checked his mirror. The traffic wasn’t as thick heading west, but it wasn’t light, either. It’d been years since he trained in driving techniques and even then it was a mere overview. No one at the NSA had expected him to be anywhere but a computer. He shifted the car and passed the registered speed limit. The sedans merged in the lanes behind him.

  Semitrucks dominated the lanes ahead of him. He stepped on the speed. The moment he passed one truck, he changed lanes until he was right in front of it and behind another. He flicked
his gaze to each mirror. The black sedans were approaching fast on either side. Up ahead to the right was another semitruck.

  “They’re gaining on us,” Rachel said.

  James didn’t respond. If he lost his concentration, he feared he’d make a costly mistake. The truck behind him turned on the right-turn signal, forcing his hand. Being sandwiched in between two big rigs made it hard to see the traffic signs, but to the right he caught a glimpse. The second street exit was in half a mile. His mind ran through math calculations in a half second. At seventy miles an hour it’d take him four-tenths of a minute to get there.

  “Hang on,” he mumbled. James pulled up to the bumper of the semitruck in front of him. He crossed into the left lane, zoomed past the semi and glided back into the lane at such a small margin the semi behind him laid on the horn, but James had already crossed into the next lane, sandwiched between two other semitrucks. They were passing the exit. He cranked the wheel. The tires against the ridges in the asphalt made a horrible noise, as he was on the outer edge of the road.

  Rachel gasped. Horns honked, but there wasn’t the telltale sound of steel crunching. No accidents, but the sedans hadn’t been able to follow them. They’d missed the exit. “You did it.” Rachel shook her head. “No way you learned to drive like that from TV.”

  “We’re not out of the woods yet.” James took a left then three right turns to make sure no one else was following him.

  “Do you know where we’ll go?” Rachel asked.

  “I don’t know about you, but the boys and I are going to start eating these seat cushions if we don’t get some food soon. I’ve got some dried fruit in a snack container in the console to hold us until we get some dinner.” Speaking of the boys...they were quiet. They hadn’t even commented or acted scared during his crazy driving. Something was up. In the dim twilight, he squinted to make out the boys eagerly sucking on white sticks.

  He groaned. He took back the thought of something finally going right. “Oh, Rachel. What have you done?”