Explosive Attraction Page 18

  “What’s the other one?”

  “A cemetery several miles off Palm Valley Road.”

  Rafe swore. “That’s it. An eye for an eye. Give me the address.”

  Buresh gave him the location.

  “Bring the cavalry,” Rafe said. “We’re going to need it.”

  “You got it,” Buresh said. “Where’s Dr. Steele?”

  Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Unfortunately, she’s with me. And I don’t have time to stash her somewhere. There are two lives on the line now, Darby’s and Nick’s.”

  “No,” Darby said. “There are three. He’s after you, too.”

  “She’s right,” Buresh said. “Don’t go running in there like John Wayne. Sonntag wants to kill all three of you. Wait for backup.”

  “I can’t wait, knowing he’s got my brother.” Rafe nodded at Darby to end the call. He spotted the road he was looking for and slowed the car to make the turn.

  The phone rang just as he started down the gravel road. Not his phone.

  The phone that was sitting in the console.

  “What do I do?” Darby asked.

  The phone rang again.

  Rafe’s eyes widened and he slammed the brakes, skidding to a halt. “Come on,” he yelled. “Get out. Now, now, now.” He unclicked his seat belt and unclicked Darby’s. He grabbed her in his arms and hauled her with him out the driver’s side.

  He set her on her feet and pulled her with him toward the trees. “Run, Darby! Run!”

  The car exploded behind them, catapulting them both into the air.

  * * *

  “STUPID, STUPID, STUPID,” Rafe groaned. He held his hand to his head, wincing. He’d assumed the bomber wanted to fool him, get him to use the phone from the envelope, maybe to search through called numbers, looking for clues. He should have realized from the beginning the phone was the detonator. The bomber probably rigged a bomb under his car when he took Darby to the station.

  He forced himself into a sitting position and turned toward Darby.

  She wasn’t there.

  The fog in his brain lifted and panic slammed into him. “Darby, where are you?”

  But he already knew the answer.

  Sonntag had her.

  * * *

  RATS SQUEAKED NEXT to Darby. She swatted at one of the furry bodies, and it fell with a sharp cry into the water. A roach fell onto her face and she screamed.

  “Hey, darlin’. Wake up. It’s bad, I know, but I’d rather share the nightmare with you than see you suffer by yourself.”

  Darby opened her eyes. Nick was staring down at her, his brow furrowed with concern. What was Nick doing down in the well with her? She blinked. She wasn’t in a well.

  She was somewhere much, much worse.

  She sat up. Nick sat next to her, his back braced against a marble wall.

  “We’re in a...a—”

  “Mausoleum,” he said. “Or crypt, if you prefer. Kind of a smelly old one at that, but not for long.” He gestured toward the corner a few feet away.

  Three steel pipes sat on the concrete floor with wires running out of them, and a timer sitting on top. Darby’s breath caught in her throat. “I don’t suppose you DEA guys know how to disable a bomb?”

  “Nope, afraid I missed that class. I don’t suppose you’ve taken a first aid class?”

  “First aid? Why—”

  Nick held his shirt open.

  Darby’s hands flew to her throat. The shaft of a knife stuck out from Nick’s abdomen. Blood trickled down from the wound. “Oh, my gosh, Nick. Oh, my gosh.”

  He laughed, then winced. “Not exactly the words I used when it happened.”

  Darby bent down on her hands and knees, studying his wound. “It’s not bleeding much. I don’t think we should pull the knife out, though.”

  “Hurts like hell. I don’t suppose you brought the bomb squad with you, before you were caught?”

  “No, but I did bring your brother. Or rather, he brought me. Our car exploded.”

  Nick turned pale.

  “No, no, Rafe wasn’t in the car. He pulled me out. We both got out. But I don’t know where he is now.” She shoved to her feet and rushed to the bomb to look at the timer.

  They had less than fifteen minutes.

  “I’m sure he got away, and he’s bringing help,” Nick said.

  “Right, I’m sure he is.”

  Darby exchanged a glance with Nick, and realized they were both lying to each other.

  * * *

  THE TRAIL THROUGH the woods was easy for Rafe to follow. Sonntag hadn’t bothered to try to hide his footprints.

  He wanted Rafe to find him.

  Which meant Rafe was walking into a trap. But he didn’t have a choice. He had to find Darby and Nick.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been in a blast-induced stupor. How much of a head start did Sonntag have? A minute? Five? More? Rafe clenched his hand around his pistol.

  Hold on, Darby. Hold on, Nick. I’m coming for you. Hold on.

  * * *

  “IT’S A PIPE BOMB,” Nick offered, his voice weak, barely above a whisper now.

  Darby rolled her eyes. “Even I can figure that much out.” She crouched over the ominous-looking bundle of pipes and wires, looking for...what? A sign that said Pull Here To Disable Bomb?

  “Darby.”

  “Leave me alone, Nick. I’m thinking.”

  “Darby.”

  The urgent, low-pitched tone had her jerking around. Rafe stood at the doorway, separated from her by three feet and a very strong set of iron bars.

  A sob escaped her as she ran to him. “Rafe, thank God you’re okay. We’re trapped. And there’s a bomb. I don’t know what to do. I don’t—”

  “Are you hurt?” He reached a hand through the bars and grasped her hand in his.

  “What? No, no, I’m fine. I guess the haircut wasn’t as much a disguise as we’d hoped, though, huh?” She tried for a smile but failed miserably.

  He looked past her, and his jaw tightened. “Nick.”

  Darby heard the pain in his voice. She turned. Nick’s eyes were closed. She turned back to Rafe. “He’s alive. See his chest rising? But he’s been stabbed. We need to get him to a hospital.”

  Rafe looked over his shoulder. He shoved his gun in his holster and grasped the bars. He strained and pulled, the cords standing out in his neck. He gave up, panting. “It’s no use. Buresh is on the way, with the bomb squad. They’ll have bolt cutters. We’ll get you out of here.”

  “We don’t have much time. The bomb...maybe you can tell me what to do. Do I just pull the wires out?”

  He grabbed her hand when she started to turn away. “Don’t touch it. One spark and it’s over. See the timer?”

  “Yes.”

  “How much time is left?” He half turned, watching the woods behind him.

  Darby looked at the timer, careful not to touch it. Her heart plummeted and she ran back to Rafe. “Seven minutes, give or take. What do we do?”

  His gaze darted back and forth, searching out every corner of the mausoleum. Then his gaze met hers. “There may be a way. But you’ll have to be strong. And you’ll have to work fast.”

  “Anything. What?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. He plopped it in her hand.

  “Do you want me to cut a wire?”

  “No. There’s nothing you can do to stop the bomb.”

  She grabbed the bars in her hands, pulling at them in frustration. “For a bomb tech, you don’t seem to be very good at disabling bombs.”

  His mouth quirked up in a smile. “I promise I’m a lot better with a bomb suit and appropriate tools.” His smile faded. He looked at her with what could only be called pity as he reached out and cupped her face with one hand and pointed behind her with the other. “You’re going to have to remove one of those marble squares on that far wall. There’s a screwdriver on one end of that knife. Use that.”

  “Marble squares?” She l
ooked where he was pointing. Her throat tightened and she could barely breathe. “But...that’s where they put the coffins.”

  “It’s your only chance. You’re strong. You can do this. You have to open up one of those squares and crawl inside.”

  * * *

  DARBY’S FACE WENT PALE and she started shaking. “No, I can’t... I can’t.”

  “You have to. Pick one without a name on the front. That means it’s empty. It won’t be sealed. Just four little screws, one on each corner. Then use the knife to cut the caulking around the square. It should pop right off. Crawl inside. I don’t know if it will totally shield you from the blast, but it’s the only chance you have. Hurry, Darby. It’s the only way.”

  The fear and panic in her eyes was killing him.

  “What about Nick?” she asked. “I can’t just leave him here.”

  Grief nearly buckled his knees. He looked at his brother, so still and quiet, lying on the floor. “There’s nothing you can do for him now.”

  “But...I can’t. Don’t you see? I can’t go in there. And I can’t leave him. I can’t abandon him.”

  He grabbed both her hands and pulled her close against the bars. “Look at me.” He gave her a small shake. “Look. At. Me.”

  Her chest was rising and falling too fast. She was close to hyperventilating. He squeezed her hands and gently shook them again until she met his gaze.

  “You are going to take off one of those marble squares, Darby. You are going to crawl into that dark, tight hole. And do you know why you’re going to do that?”

  Her lower lip trembled. “No, why?”

  “Because you won’t be alone. I won’t abandon you. You’re going to survive. And after...after the explosion, I’ll be here for you. I won’t abandon you. I’ll search for you. And I’ll find you.”

  She blinked several times. “You don’t understand. You don’t know... It’s not that I won’t. It’s that I can’t.” Her voice broke on the last word.

  How much longer did she have? Four minutes? Three? He had to get her in one of those holes in the wall, or she would die. How could he make her do something that terrified her more than the idea of a bomb exploding and ripping her to pieces?

  His gaze shot to Nick. Darby was softhearted. She wanted to save everyone, and above all, she never wanted to abandon someone in need, whether they deserved it or not. He’d thought that was a flaw. Now he knew better. It was her strength. And he’d use that strength to save her life. She wouldn’t go in that dark, tight hole to save herself.

  But she would do it to save someone else.

  “You’re right,” he said, purposely making his voice hard. “You can’t leave Nick to die. But I can’t save him. You have to save him.”

  Her eyes widened. “But, how—”

  “Get the marble square off. Slap Nick. Punch him. Do whatever it takes to wake his lazy ass. Then make him crawl into the hole behind you.” He didn’t think she’d be able to wake Nick. And even if she did, Nick would probably be too weak to move. But at least with the marble square off, her preservation instincts might kick in and she’d dive into the hole before the timer ran out. “Check the timer. How much more time do we have?”

  She ran to the bomb. “Three minutes!”

  “Save my brother, Darby. Please. You’re the only chance he’s got. Go!”

  She ran to the far side of the mausoleum and got down on her knees in front of one of the squares on the bottom row.

  Rafe watched her unscrew one of the corners. “Good, faster, babe. Hurry. Three more.”

  She nodded, her movements jerky as she worked on the second corner. Then the other two corners. She reached out and tried to pry the marble square off the wall. “It won’t move.”

  “Cut the caulking. Run the blade around the edge. Then kick it if you have to.”

  She did as he said, and the square fell onto the concrete floor, cracking in two.

  The hairs stood up on the back of Rafe’s neck. A whisper of sound had him jerking around. He dove to the ground just as Sonntag brought a tire iron down where he’d been standing moments before. The tire iron banged against the bars and fell to the ground.

  Darby screamed from inside the mausoleum.

  “Get in the hole, Darby! Now!” Rafe yelled. He grabbed for his gun, but Sonntag slammed into him. The gun went flying into the trees.

  * * *

  SAVE MY BROTHER.

  Darby didn’t know if she could, but she had to try. Rafe had saved her too many times to count. And he was fighting for his life right now—and hers.

  She had to try.

  She ran to Nick. “Forgive me,” she whispered. She bit her bottom lip, and slapped Nick hard across the face.

  * * *

  RAFE CIRCLED SONNTAG, desperately looking for an opening. Damn it. He didn’t have time for this.

  Darby and Nick didn’t have time for this.

  The welcome sound of sirens screamed up the road toward them.

  Sonntag waved his knife, laughing. “They won’t get here in time. Your brother will die, if he isn’t dead already. And so will the girl.” His lip curled in a sneer. “You’re going to find out what it’s like to lose everything that matters to you.”

  Like hell he would.

  Rafe lunged at him. Sonntag dove out of the way and whirled around, hacking with the deadly blade. Rafe dodged him, but not fast enough. The blade sliced his arm, like an electric shock shooting across his bicep.

  “Don’t worry,” Sonntag said as he stood above him. “I won’t kill you yet. An eye for an eye.” He pulled a phone out of his pocket.

  And then Rafe knew. The timer on the bomb was fake. Sonntag wanted to control when the bomb blew, down to the second, to make Rafe suffer. He was going to use the phone to blow the bomb.

  Rafe aimed a vicious kick at the other man’s knee. A loud crack was followed by a howling scream as Sonntag fell to the ground, holding his leg. The phone and knife went skittering across the grass in different directions.

  Rafe rolled and came up with the knife, but Sonntag grabbed his foot. Rafe twisted around, slashing down with the blade, stabbing the other man’s arm.

  Sonntag’s roar of pain echoed through the trees but he didn’t let go. He wrapped both his hands around Rafe’s leg and yanked him back. Rafe lost his grip on the knife and fell to the side.

  The sirens stopped. Car doors slammed. Voices echoed from the trees.

  “Over here!” Rafe yelled.

  Sonntag tugged the knife out of his arm. He shimmied away from Rafe, army-crawling across the grass.

  Rafe’s right arm hung useless, blood dripping down his fingers. He spotted Sonntag’s goal, the phone, a few feet away.

  “No!” Rafe lunged at Sonntag just as he turned with the knife in one hand, and the phone in the other.

  Rafe ignored the knife, reaching for the phone. Burning, tearing pain sucked the air out of his lungs. He landed with a jarring thud. His teeth cracked together. Sonntag’s skull slammed against the hard ground.

  “Here they are,” someone shouted. Another man cursed. “Medic!”

  Rafe dragged himself into a sitting position. He clutched the phone in his hand, cradling it against his chest with his good arm. Beside him, Sonntag lay unmoving, staring up at the sky, a tiny line of blood running out of his ear and down his cheek. Rafe didn’t know if the man was alive or dead, and he didn’t care.

  All he cared about was reaching Darby and Nick.

  Buresh was suddenly standing over him. “Don’t move. You’re leaking all over the place.”

  An EMT knelt beside Rafe and reached for the phone. “I’ll take that, sir.”

  Rafe twisted away. “Don’t touch it.” He motioned for one of the bomb techs. “Here.” He handed the phone to him. “Be extremely careful with that. It’s the remote detonator to the IED inside the mausoleum.”

  “You got it. We’ll get the robot.”

  “Help me up, Buresh. Darby’s inside with the bomb, and Nick. He�
��s hurt. We need to get the gate open.”

  Buresh hauled him to his feet. The burning pain in Rafe’s chest and arm had him gasping for breath.

  “I don’t suppose I can convince you to wait in the ambulance.” Buresh gestured toward the emergency vehicles lined up on the grass several hundred yards away.

  “Not a chance.” He and Buresh followed the bomb squad to the mausoleum. A quick snip with some bolt cutters and the lock gave way.

  Rafe rushed inside first, shoving past the others.

  Buresh followed behind him, then stopped suddenly, looking around. “I thought Nick and Darby were in here.”

  A ragged line of blood zigzagged across the concrete floor to an opening in the mausoleum wall. “I didn’t think she’d really do it,” Rafe said. “I didn’t think she could do it. I didn’t...” He rushed forward, ignoring the burning pain across his ribs. He squatted in front of the square.

  “What are you talking about?” Buresh knelt beside him.

  Rafe braced himself for what he was about to see. Darby was probably comatose by now, being shoved up in that dark hole. And Nick... Rafe didn’t even want to admit to himself what he knew deep inside. There was so much blood.

  “Give me some light in here,” he rasped, trying to see inside the hole.

  Buresh waved at one of the bomb techs who was examining the pipe bomb. The tech unclipped a flashlight from his utility belt and handed it to Buresh.

  He clicked it on, pointing it into the hole.

  Rafe peered inside. In the cold, dark tomb, two very green eyes blinked back at him. Darby raised her hand to shield her eyes, bumping her elbow in the tight space as she jackknifed around to look at him.

  “Hurry, Rafe,” she ordered. “The knife moved when I pulled Nick in here. I can’t stop the bleeding.”

  He swallowed against the lump rising in his throat. “You crawled in a dark hole. You pulled Nick inside?”

  She grinned. “I did! He helped a little. I slapped him like you told me to.”

  He would have laughed, but his heart was pounding so hard at the thought of how close she’d come to being killed that he couldn’t speak.

  “The bomb didn’t explode,” Darby said. “We didn’t turn into pink clouds.”