Devil's Playground Page 21

  Sweaty palms didn’t make for great gripping and Caitlyn started to panic. What if she slipped? How long could she possibly hold on?

  Suck it up. She was not going to die right here, right now. Gritting her teeth with the effort, Caitlyn reached with her left hand for the second handhold she prayed was there. Her numb fingers brushed over what felt like a handle. She grabbed onto it desperately and used her right hand to find another.

  Yes! Her arms ached with the strain, but she fought on. She worked out, damn it, she could do this. Another six inches and her head disappeared inside the shaft. It was dark and smelled of dust and mold. For a moment she was blinded, but her eyes quickly adjusted to the dim interior and she could see where the shaft bent and went horizontal.

  Horizontal was looking pretty damn good right about now. Every inch was grueling torture as her muscles shook with the effort of climbing higher in the shaft. If she could just get high enough to draw her legs up, she could use them to take some of the pressure off her arms.

  “Just a little higher. I can do this. I will do this.” It was only one body length from the opening to the bend, she could get there.

  The last handhold was inches from the turn in the shaft. One more good heave and she could grab it. From there she could draw her legs up and angle her way inside. She strained for the handle, grunting with the effort. It was within her grasp, just one more millimeter.

  Her hand slipped.

  Caitlyn clutched with her remaining hand and tried to regain her lost inches. Her heart raced in her chest and spots danced before her eyes. Oh yeah, she needed to breathe. She had to reach that handle now. Her muscles spasmed from this unaccustomed exercise.

  She would not give up. What choice did she have? She’d either reach the handle and pull herself up, or she let go and die right there. Her brothers’ faces flashed in front of her eyes. Mac’s sky blue eyes filled her brain, telling her things without words, giving her promises if only she could hold on long enough to hear them.

  Damn it, she would not give up. With every last ounce of stubborn will in her body, Caitlyn reached for the last handle. And got it!

  Her head thumped the top of the duct as she pulled herself higher, but the pain didn’t register. With frantic strength, she pulled her knees to her chest one at a time until she could find purchase on the lip of the shaft. Caitlyn pushed her way onto the length of duct in front of her and collapsed.

  Dust billowed up around her face making her sneeze repeatedly, but she didn’t care. Her fingers were bloody and swollen from her efforts, but by God she was alive. And she meant to stay that way.

  It was tempting, oh so tempting, to just lay in the filthy duct for an hour or so while her body recovered, but she knew she had to cover her tracks. Worming her way further into the shaft, Caitlyn wiggled and squirmed around until she could face the opening again.

  With one hand braced on the handholds she’d just fought her way up, she carefully inched the other hand down until she could reach the grille. Or at least she tried too. She was short by less than an inch.

  There was no way she was pushing out any farther. Her heart lurched at the very thought of falling head first out of the shaft. There had to be a way…

  Her ID badge! What had she done with it? Pushing back up to safety, Caitlyn patted herself down looking for the badge. Unconsciously, she must have clipped it back to its usual place on the edge of her shirt. Thank God for habits!

  Sticking the hard rectangle of plastic in her teeth, she worked her way back down again. With the badge, she was able to snag a bit of the grille enough to reach it with her other hand and pull it mostly closed. Hopefully they wouldn’t look too closely at the ventilation shaft above them when they came looking for her. It would pass a quick inspection. Maybe.

  Scooching back, Caitlyn contemplated her next move. She could explore the rest of the duct and see where it led or she could wait here to see what the thugs were going to do next.

  If she did find a way out, would she have the strength to get out anyway? Her arms were shot, her muscles burned in pain, and even her abdominal muscles ached. She didn’t relish the thought of sliding on her stomach through dust and dirt and heaven only knew what else.

  Of course, if she stayed put, she could easily get caught by an errant sneeze should someone walk into the room. Neither option looked very appealing. Caitlyn wished she could see her watch so she’d know what time it was. Had Mac come for her? Had they already killed him? How long she’d been unconscious, she had no idea. The day was so mixed up in her mind, it seemed like months had passed since she woke Jim up that morning.

  Poor Jim, he’d blame himself for taking her to work. And if he didn’t, Liam or Tom would. Then they’d all blame Mac for getting her involved in the first place.

  Oh Mac. What would this do to him? They wouldn’t let him live if he came for her, but his innate goodness wouldn’t let him stay home. Would Tom be able to convince him not to sacrifice himself?

  Probably not.

  She thought back to the article she’d read about him saving a roomful of newborns from a drug addict. He was a hero. It was a trait that went bone-deep in him. Caitlyn had no doubt he’d blame himself for this mess and try to save her himself.

  “Please God, please, keep him safe. Keep them all safe,” Caitlyn prayed. It was the only thing she could do.

  Chapter Twenty

  The streets leading to the warehouse were eerily deserted. The streetlights—what few remained unbroken—had come on in the gathering dusk. Mac’s neck prickled with danger. This was what he lived for, wasn’t it?

  It was his job to put his life on the line for others, that’s what he did. But it had never meant so much before. One screw up, one little mistiming and Caitlyn would be dead. He no longer gave a shit what happened to the city. The pictures and Miguel’s testimony were enough to bring an investigation into the mayor’s office. It was up to Hartford’s police and fire department to save their city tonight. His focus was Caitlyn and only Caitlyn.

  “You’re sure you’re set with this? It’s not too late to try something else.” Tom looked at Mac through the darkened interior of the car. Liam followed a few miles back in a beat up van that held the tape recorder and GPS—global positioning satellite—equipment. As long as they left Mac his shoes, Liam would be able to track him.

  “Like what? Do you have an army stashed somewhere that you didn’t tell me about?”

  “How can you joke? I have to decide between my sister and my partner. And I’m not even sure either one of you will make it out alive.”

  “It’s not your decision to make, it’s mine.” Mac faced Tom. “Just know I’ll do anything, everything to keep Caitlyn safe.”

  “Even at the risk of your own life?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Tom looked startled and opened his mouth to say something, but never finished as a body went flying across the hood of his car.

  “What the hell?” Tom slammed on the brakes.

  “Get down!” Mac pulled Tom down just as a gun blast shattered the window. Glass exploded over them in a glittering rain. “Drive! Drive!”

  Tom stepped on the gas and floored it, keeping his head as low as possible. “What was that all about? I thought they wanted you?”

  “That’s not Carlos’ man, look, he’s wearing blue. He’s a 525. It’s begun.”

  The farther into the city they got, the more insanity reigned. Store windows were smashed, dumpsters spewed oily, black smoke and flames. Cars were turned over and were being stripped of their parts faster than Mac could imagine. Hell had been let loose on the city.

  And he was on his way to see Satan himself.

  “Let me off here. I’ll be all right.”

  “Are you kidding me? Those aren’t toys those kids are carrying. Those are real guns out there. You’ll be killed before you take two steps.”

  “I’ll be safer on the street than I will a sitting duck in the car. Turn around and tell Liam to
stay back as far as he can. Mobilize as many teams as possible. Have them ready to move in when I give the word and not a moment sooner. I’ll stay in contact through the tap.”

  “Watch your back and don’t take any stupid chances.” Tom rounded a corner into a narrow alley.

  “You too.” Mac reached out and clapped Tom on the shoulder. “I’ll get her back, don’t worry.” Mac rolled out of the car and blended in with the shadows.

  Adrenaline coursed through his veins and every sense was hyper-alert. His ears strained for any signs of company before he slipped off through the night. He was only two blocks from the warehouse, and if Miguel could be believed, he’d be able to get there through a series of back alleys.

  Using all his training in urban warfare, Mac skulked his way over fences and behind run-down houses. He avoided the lights from the fires and kept to the shadows. Most of the people were either in hiding, or moving off to better pickings. This area was poor and had little to loot. If Liam and Jim had things in place, the mob wouldn’t get much farther.

  Mac skirted the flaming wreckage of a car turned upside down and stepped into the shelter of a doorway as a gang of boys hardly into their teens rounded the corner. They ran to the burning car and started throwing garbage and soda cans into the fire. Had this insanity taken over the entire city?

  Just a few more buildings to go. He could see the bulk of the warehouse against the full moon. His gut warned him of someone’s approach right before his arms were grabbed and pulled painfully behind his back.

  “The Man’s been waiting for you. He said we get to kill you when it’s time.” The voice in his ear belonged to one of Carlos’ bodyguards, Rocco. What little brainpower he possessed was wrapped up in a sick desire to kill and maim. Great. If Rocco was around, that meant that Carlos wasn’t far. Another goon stood silently by his side, waiting for Mac to fight for his freedom.

  Now why would Carlos be sticking around when his people were on the streets hauling in as much loot as they could carry? It didn’t make any sense.

  Unless he was after a bigger prize.

  Could Carlos be making a move to be the Man? He’d have to keep his eyes open and see what played out when he got into the warehouse.

  The two thugs dragged an unresisting Mac through the street and into a loading bay of the beat up warehouse. He spotted men with automatic rifles guarding the entrances to the building. Apparently it was okay to destroy everything in sight, as long as it didn’t belong to Carlos.

  “So, Diego, we meet again.” A lighter flickered and Mac smelled the acrid smell of Carlos’ favorite cigar. “Or should I call you Mac?”

  “You can call me whatever you want as long as I get to see Caitlyn O’Toole.” Mac didn’t struggle or try to fight against his captors.

  Carlos nodded and Rocco punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. “You’re in no position to make demands. You’ll see the girl when the Man says you will. And that won’t be until you’ve handed over the evidence. Pat him down,” he ordered the thugs.

  Carlos’ bodyguard ran his hands roughly down Mac’s legs and chest, patting down his arms and checking his groin.

  “He’s clean.”

  “Where’s the evidence, Diego?” Carlos looked nervously over his shoulder towards an office in the back.

  “In a safe place. You didn’t think I was stupid enough to bring it with me now, did you? Come on Carlos, you should know me better than that.” Mac held back the groan of pain from the punch to his gut. Bile rose in his throat, but he kept his face blank.

  “Then the girl is dead.”

  “I don’t think so. If she doesn’t make it to her brother’s house in the next hour, the pictures I took of you and the mayor go directly to the D. A.’s office, the governor, and my boss at the FBI.”

  “Too bad you won’t be alive to appreciate it.” Carlos threw down his cigar. “Eliminate him.”

  “Not so fast, Carlos. I have a few questions for Mr. McDougal. You weren’t thinking of letting him go without giving me a chance to talk to the man who infiltrated your organization so easily now, were you?” Mayor Nadowny walked into the bay like he was entering his throne room. He had a swagger in his step that told Mac he thought he held all the cards.

  Good. Let him keep thinking that. It would give Liam plenty of time to pull his forces together and grab him.

  “Mr. Mayor.” Mac nodded mockingly.

  “I’d like to say it was nice to see you again, but considering the circumstances…” Nadowny trailed off meaningfully.

  “Where’s Caitlyn?”

  “She’s resting after her ordeal. I’ll bring you to her shortly. As soon as you give me the evidence you’ve gathered in your investigation.”

  “As I was telling Carlos, I didn’t bring it with me. Once you let Caitlyn go, I’ll direct you to the film and the disk that has my notes and reports on it.” That was a complete lie. Mac had given all his reports verbally to his boss in order to maintain his cover.

  Nadowny didn’t look surprised at the pronouncement. “I figured you wouldn’t follow the rules, you feds never do.”

  “How did you spot me?” Mac asked, buying time.

  “Easily. Carlos gathers finger prints from all his members and I use the computer right in my office to find out if the member is an agent, such as yourself, or just another punk looking to make a quick buck.”

  Carlos twitched at the condescension in his voice, but didn’t say a word. Mac noticed his hand hovered near the pocket of his jacket though. Did he have a gun in there? Probably.

  “My prints should have come up as Diego Torres.” That still bothered him. Did Nadowny have a mole in the Bureau too?

  “They did, but you forget, I know who Diego Torres really is. When those prints came up I asked for a picture of you, which was easy enough to get with all the camera phones around. Once I made the match, Carlos was supposed to take care of the rest. Pity he didn’t get that done before now, but that’s easily corrected.”

  He sure as hell hoped not.

  “Come, we’ll go find your friend, then you can direct me to the evidence. You’ll understand if I don’t let either of you go until the evidence is found.”

  Mac didn’t even answer. Nadowny was getting too much enjoyment out of all of this.

  “If you’d follow me.” The mayor turned and walked towards a set of metal stairs.

  The two thugs pulled Mac roughly, almost wrenching his arm out of his socket. Carlos remained below. He was definitely up to something. With all the confusion, how hard would it be for the mayor to take a stray bullet? That was more Carlos’ style. He wouldn’t attack openly, he’d wait until Nadowny’s back was turned, then shoot him.

  So why did he want the evidence so badly? To cover his own ass or to use against the mayor? Not that it mattered, the pictures were even now being specially delivered to the FBI and the D.A.’s office. Hey, if they weren’t going to play fair, why should he?

  A narrow row of rooms ran against one wall of the cavernous warehouse. The place looked one stiff breeze away from completely falling apart. Most of the rooms they passed were filled with huge boxes covered in dust. Miguel had said this was where they stored the guns, but all those boxes couldn’t be guns. What else could they be storing in here? Drugs? There’d be enough pharmaceuticals to get every man, woman, and child in the city high as a kite.

  What else was going on here?

  The little procession stopped at a room at the top of the stairs. Nadowny rapped sharply on the door. “Miss O’Toole, I’ve a visitor for you,” he called out in mock cheerfulness as he unlocked the door.

  Nadowny threw it open dramatically. The room was empty.

  “What sort of game are you playing?” Mac asked, fear congealing in his gut. Was this why Carlos wasn’t with them? Had he taken Caitlyn for his own bargaining chip?

  “Carlos!” Nadowny thundered, storming into the room. He kicked at boxes and tipped the desk over.

  “Where
is she?”

  Carlos came running up the stairs, puffing with exertion. “What?”

  “Where’s the girl?”

  “In here.” He looked around as if she’d magically appear somewhere.

  “Obviously, she’s not. What the fuck have your men been doing? Did they let her out?”

  “No way, man. She was knocked out from that punch he gave her.” Carlos nodded his head at the goon on Mac’s right.

  Mac made a mental note to get even for that. If Caitlyn had been hit hard enough to knock her out, her jaw could be broken. His heart ached for the pain she must be going through.

  “Well, she’s not unconscious now. Get your men and search the building from top to bottom. She has to be here somewhere.”

  “I only got a few guys here, the rest are out in the city grabbing anything they can carry and smashing anything they can’t,” Carlos grumbled.

  “Then I guess you’re going to have to get off your ass and help them. She’s a witness, you fool. Her testimony is just as damaging as his.”

  So much for letting her go in exchange.

  Carlos stomped out of the room and called instructions downstairs to his men. Mac was tied roughly to a chair and left by the tumbled desk. The two thugs who’d been holding him moved boxes and searched for Caitlyn.

  When all the boxes were shoved in the center of the room and it was obvious Caitlyn wasn’t hiding behind any of them, Nadowny swore and stalked out of the room. The goons followed, locking Mac in.

  As soon as the door clicked behind them, Mac shuffled his way to the nearest box and rubbed the ropes against a rough edge. This would take forever, but it was better than sitting there and worrying about Caitlyn.

  Where had she gone? And how had she done it? He prayed half forgotten prayers she’d escaped and was even now on her way to Jim’s house.

  A thump came from overhead and a suspiciously feminine sneeze followed. Mac rubbed harder on the bonds that held him. He didn’t know where Caitlyn was hiding, but if she was in one of those boxes stacked up high, she could easily fall down and get crushed. When the thugs had moved them around, it had taken all their strength to shift the stacks. Those boxes could kill her if they landed on her. Not to mention what damage the fall would do.