Page 97 of Hours to Kill
“They’re hunkered down in a room. We’ve got eyes on them now, but this is a big hotel and there are plenty of opportunities for one or more of them to ditch our guys. I hope it doesn’t happen, but you should know it could.”
Mack let out that breath and had to work to take another.
“Any word on Addy?” Eisenhower asked.
“Nothing.”
“Call me the minute you know anything, and I’ll keep you updated on the suspects.”
Mack ended the call before he became emotional and Eisenhower pulled him from the investigation. Not like Mack would quit. Not without someone physically restraining him. No way he’d ignore Addy being held against her will, or the potential for his fellow Feds to lose their lives.
Mack paced the sidewalk, dodging forensic staff hunting for even a speck of evidence to find Addy. He held the phone and willed it to ring with the team calling to tell him they’d arrived.
Mack had requisitioned security feeds from each store in the mall and reviewed them until he found one that captured Addy being dragged to a white pickup truck. He’d scanned the video for plates, but the truck didn’t have any. Likely removed for this kidnapping.
Kidnapping.Addy had been kidnapped. Right on Mack’s watch. Unthinkable. Unfathomable. How had he let that happen? He’d let his guard down, that was how. Just for that moment. He knew better. How he knew better. Thought he’d learned his lesson. But no. He’d failed again. Not with just any person, but the most important person in his life.
He lifted his hand to slam it against his forehead and stopped. The pain cutting his head in two was already too intense. No way he’d make it worse and risk incapacitating himself.
He viewed the video over and over again but couldn’t make out the features of the driver and the guy who was manhandling Addy. When Mack got his hands on that guy...
He growled and stared at the phone. “Come on, Cam. Call.”
Mack had sent the video to Cam to improve the quality and run facial recognition. They had to get an ID. They just had to. They had nothing else to go on. Only other lead Mackhad was a printout of malls in the senator’s holding company that Mack had found in Addy’s rental vehicle. Mack doubted it meant anything, yet he’d pocketed it for Cam to review the new properties listed to see if it gave them a lead.
The phone rang, and Mack nearly jumped out of his skin. “Please tell me you’re on the ground.”
“We are,” Sean said, sounding far too calm for Mack’s liking. “Just down the street.”
A wave of relief washed over Mack. “Any ID on our guys?”
“Not yet. Cam couldn’t enhance the video enough. He sent it off to D.C., and they’re working on it.”
Mack’s heart fell. “So why the call?”
“Zamora finally talked. At least somewhat. He’s still not giving up the name of his boss, but he mentioned an apartment he has down here. Said his boss—who we know is Razo—uses it sometimes.”
Hope took purchase in Mack’s heart. “Tell me Zamora gave up the address.”
“He did, and we know you’ll want to be in on that raid.”
Chapter 25
MACK, SEAN, AND KILEY CREPT UPon the apartment located in a far nicer area of town than the seedy neighborhood where Zamora and Razo did their dirty work. Newer model cars filled the lot, and a cheery yellow color highlighted by the full moon covered the walls. Mack wouldn’t hesitate to live in the upscale neighborhood, and it was going to shock the neighbors when they learned they shared walls with a drug lord and gunrunner, and even worse, a child trafficker.
Mack glanced back at the SUV, where Cam sat in the front seat, with Bear lying in the back. The dog had whined to join in, but Mack couldn’t allow that. It would mess with their team’s rhythm. Cam couldn’t participate in the raid either, so he was babysitting Bear and reviewing the new mall information Addy had obtained from the senator.
Mack made eye contact with Sean and Kiley and questioned their readiness with a sharp look.
They each nodded.
Mack lifted the battering ram and slammed it into the door, fracturing the framing. The door swung in and clapped back at him. He dropped the ram and lifted his gun.
“Police!” he shouted before entering the dim room.
He swung the light on his gun over the living area holding leather furniture and piles of personal belongings. It adjoined a small kitchen. No sign of movement.
“Clear,” Mack said.
