Hunt Them Down(64)

A look of disbelief appeared on Hunt’s face.

Egan took a couple of deep breaths, which wasn’t easy, as Hunt had all his weight on his chest, and said, “If you think I’m against you, or lying to you, pull the damn trigger and be done with it. But if you believe me, help me up, and let’s get your daughter back.”

Hunt’s stare didn’t vacillate. Egan’s words hadn’t gotten through his friend’s defenses. In fact, Egan saw Hunt’s finger slowly getting tighter around the trigger.

“I want to be a father, Pierce,” Egan pleaded.



Hunt relaxed his finger. He believed Egan. It all made sense now. McMaster had unwittingly found himself trapped in the Black Tosca’s web. He was a victim too.

“Can you really help me?” Hunt asked Egan, lowering his weapon.

“Yes, but I need to call McMaster first. I need him to relocate Katherine. If the Black Tosca learns I’ve double-crossed her, she’ll kill Katherine.”

“McMaster won’t be happy, but he’ll do it,” Hunt said.

“Once he learns who I really am, he’ll ask Katherine never to see me again.”

“What have you got yourself into?”

Egan averted his eyes. Hunt could tell the question made Egan uncomfortable. Whatever shit Egan had gotten himself into, he was in neck-deep. Too deep, maybe? Am I being played?

Egan had told the truth about not being armed. He was a skilled operator—one of the best Hunt had worked with—and Hunt had only heard him at the last moment. If Egan had come in with a weapon in hand, there was a good chance Hunt would have a hole or two in him.

“I fucked up, Pierce. I really did,” Egan said with a sigh. “The only thing that counts now is protecting Katherine. The only way to do that is to take down the Black Tosca. I’m tired of being her puppet. So please, let me help you. Maybe it will be my redemption. Sort of, anyway.”

Hunt holstered his gun and extended his hand. Egan, still on the ground, took it. “Really?” Egan asked.

“Yeah, really.”





CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

South of Hypoluxo, Florida

Hector hung up. He had just spoken to the chief pilot. His instructions had been short and to the point. The plane needed to be ready to depart in twenty minutes with a flight plan to Nassau, Bahamas.

“What should I do?” his driver asked.

The three police cruisers were right on the van’s tail, their emergency lights blitzing in a synchronized pattern of red and blue. Hector had no choice but to order his driver to stop. Now wasn’t the time to be angry or to start questioning how they had ended up being pulled over. Now was the time to react and to adapt to the current situation.

“Change of plan, gentlemen,” Hector said, loud enough for all his men to hear. “Once we’re done here, we’ll head directly to the airport. We’ll figure out what to do once we’re in the air. Understood?”

His men nodded. They were ready for action. They were outnumbered six to four, but there was no way the police officers were prepared for the tremendous amount of firepower his men were about to lay down upon them. And even if the officers were prepared, his men were much better trained than the highway cops.

“Pull the van over at the next off-ramp,” Hector said to the driver. “Let’s go to work.”



The Ford panel van’s driver tapped the brakes numerous times to indicate he was about to pull over—at least, that was Steck’s interpretation. The driver then activated his right turn signal. Steck followed the van as it pulled onto the shoulder of the off-ramp. The panel van stopped four hundred feet later at the end of the ramp. Steck stopped his cruiser about three or four car lengths behind it. Trooper Eiderzen turned on the cruiser’s powerful spotlight and shined it on the van.

“You see anything?” Steck asked.

The panel van’s windows were heavily tinted, and there were no windows in the back. It was hard to tell how many occupants were inside the vehicle save for the driver and at least one passenger. The driver’s door opened, and a man climbed out. He wore a pair of black jeans and a dark-colored T-shirt and appeared to be holding a cigarette in his right hand. The man waved at the police car before shielding his eyes. With the beam of the spotlight shining in his eyes, there was no way he could see Steck or the rest of his team. A small burning circle of tobacco glowed orange as the driver drew on his cigarette. Steck looked away from the driver, his eyes searching for anything suspicious. The shocks on the van were somewhat compressed, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe they were carrying a heavy load? But Steck had to put everything in perspective. There were almost no vehicles on the road. It was late at night—or very early in the morning. The panel van was owned by a holding company belonging to a notorious attorney. One of the properties within the same holding company had been the scene of a crime that same night. These were all things that Steck kept in mind as he disembarked from his vehicle.

“Call it in,” he instructed Eiderzen, placing his hand over his holster. “And please, Erica, keep the spotlight’s beam on the van.”

Eiderzen nodded.

Steck keyed his radio and said to his team, “Linda, get behind me. Jack and Ricardo, take the passenger side, and watch out for oncoming traffic.”

He got a series of acknowledgments. He then added, “Erica will operate the spotlight, and Carrie will stay in reserve and keep an eye on the back of the panel van.”