Rising Hope by Edie James
44
The doorto the cargo area slid open. The dark steel of a handgun muzzle appeared in the opening, then a head and shoulders. Blond hair, slim build. Halliburton.
“Freeze,” the man ordered.
Enzo threw his hands in the air. He wasn’t sure what shocked him more, the agent showing up, or the fact that he ignored Enzo, leveling his weapon at Paulson. Maybe it was the makeshift bandage wrapped around the man’s left bicep. Blood oozed from a sizeable wound.
If Enzo was shocked, Paulson looked completely floored.
His CO laughed, going for a hearty chuckle, Enzo was certain, but the sound came out more like a dry cough. “Special Agent. About time you showed up.”
Paulson’s finger caressed the trigger of his Glock, an infinitesimal movement, but it told Enzo everything. These two might have started out together, but now it was every man for himself.
Attention never wavering from the commander, Halliburton grinned meanly. “Yeah. Not dead. Turns out, you’re no marksman.”
Paulson grimaced. Mouth still gaping, he threw Enzo a look and swallowed hard. “He’s lying. I didn’t shoot him. I didn’t—”
The gun in Paulson’s hand twitched, but Halliburton fired first.
Again, the sound of a blast ripped through the fuselage.
The older man’s body jerked backwards and slumped to the floor atop the dead agent’s legs, his face contorted into a mask of disbelief. Bright, arterial blood bloomed across the front of his flight suit.
Enzo fumbled with his seatbelt, finally unclasping it. By the time he clambered out of the pilot’s seat, Halliburton had climbed into the aircraft.
Halliburton lowered his own weapon, his movements slow, as if he were in a trance. “He was going for his gun.”
Enzo could barely make out the words over the ringing in his ears, and the fading jet noise.
Wounded arm dangling at his side, the agent knelt next to Paulson, set down his weapon, and pressed two fingers to the side of the commander’s neck. He turned to Enzo and shook his head.
Not knowing what else to do, Enzo lifted a quick prayer for the misguided man. He prayed for himself, too. And for Sarah and the team. If Paulson had been telling the truth, they’d arrive soon.
Keeping them safe was now his only goal.
“Sarah didn’t take off with the drugs,” he assured Halliburton.
The agent rose stiffly to his feet. “I know. We got Panetta, and we found Munson. Panetta’s going away for a long time.”
“What about Sarah’s friend, Grayson? Was he involved?”
“Nope. Guy is totally clean.” Halliburton sighed. “I feel bad about that.”
But did he? Enzo groaned inwardly. This mission was messing with his head. He’d never been so suspicious of people before. Would it fade? He prayed so.
Muted voices came over the commlink in the dash. He reached for the knob to turn the volume up and listened. The tower, conversing with an outbound jet.
The team would be arriving any minute. He needed to clue them in that Halliburton was with him, threat assessment, unknown.
“It’s okay,” the agent said. “You can let them know I’m here. Safer that way. I don’t want to get shot by some over-eager Special Forces retiree.”
Alarm bells rang through Enzo’s head. How did Halliburton know about the Knight Tactical team?
“I called to warn them about Paulson,” Halliburton said. “Obviously I reached them too late. Sorry about that.”
Enzo studied the man’s face, searching for some kind of tell, but all he picked up was pain. Physical discomfort from the wound, for sure, and maybe psychological distress, too. Killing a man, especially one he knew, couldn’t be easy.
Or maybe that was just what Enzo wanted to see reflected in Halliburton’s eyes.
Taking a life, no matter the reason, should hurt.
He activated the mic. “Yo, inbound Eurocopter, this is Coast Guard Dolphin N 1245. I have Special Agent Halliburton aboard. Repeat. Special Agent Halliburton is onboard.”
After a brief pause the radio crackled to life, filling the cabin with Jack Reese’s steady voice. “Roger that, Coast Guard Dolphin. We’ll be wheels down in five.”
“Tell them the targets have been neutralized,” Halliburton ordered.
Enzo stared the agent in the face. “Have they?”
Halliburton gestured at the bodies. “Doesn’t look like they’re gonna pose a threat, does it?”
He let the man’s sarcasm roll off him. “You know what I mean. You’re still on our list of suspects.”
Halliburton did a credible job of looking stunned. Weapon still dangling at his side, he shifted from foot to foot, before heaving a sigh. “Yeah. Okay. From your point of view, there’s no reason I couldn’t have been in on this.” He pressed the hand with the gun to his bad arm, wincing hard. “What else can I do to convince you, besides getting shot?”
“Hand over your weapon.”
“My...what?” Halliburton looked about how Enzo figured he would if someone made the same request. “I don’t think so.”
Enzo shrugged. “If we’re all on the same side, it shouldn’t be an issue.”
The man backed farther out of reach. “Right back atcha, Lieutenant.”
Enzo looked past the man, scanning the inside of the aircraft. If he could get out of the cockpit, he’d have access to any number of hard, heavy objects. Maybe he’d have a chance to turn this into less of an unfair fight.
He unstrapped his helmet and started to ease it off.
“Okay.” Halliburton raised the gun, aiming at the ceiling before setting it slowly at his own feet. “All right. I’ll take the chance. Tell your crew I’m unarmed and I’m on your side.”
Relief flooded him, untensing his muscles and making him feel curiously light on his feet. He activated the mic again. “Attention inbound Eurocopter, Agent Halliburton is onboard. He is a friendly. Repeat Halliburton is friendly.”
Using his good arm, Halliburton clapped him on the shoulder. “You did good, especially for a Coastie. We’re looking for more agents. You might consider a change of posting. The hours are awful, but the pay’s way better.”
Enzo looked out the side window, avoiding the sight of the bodies sprawled in the back of the aircraft. No way. Not happening. As of today there’d be no more undercover work. No more lies.
And no more Sarah.
That last fact hurt his heart, but as much as he was drawn to her, she’d given not the slightest hint that The Cove would fit in her new, post-DEA life—or that a boy scout might be worth getting to know.
Halliburton grabbed the edge of the cargo bay door with his good hand and winced. “Did I read you two wrong? I thought there was a spark there. Walker felt one, at least. I’ve never seen her so chatty.” He swung himself out of the helo. “I’ve known Sarah for a long time. You’re just her type.”
Another commercial jet streaked down the runway, making the ground tremble.
Enzo refused to take the bait. Good guy or not, he didn’t much care for Special Agent Halliburton. Neither did Sarah, obviously. And he had good reason to trust her judgement. He slipped out the cargo door and sucked in a huge breath, happy to swap the stench of death for jet exhaust.
Halliburton ran a hand through his hair. “Probably a good thing you’re not interested in her. You dodged a bullet there, my friend. Trust me.” He rubbed the ridge of his nose. “I thought we were going to be an item, too. Then she broke my nose. You don’t want her kind of trouble.”
The Knight Tactical helo came into view, saving Enzo from having to respond. Not that he had any desire to swap relationship talk with a man who’d driven Sarah to sock him in the face.
Halliburton backed toward him, hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he watched the pretty machine approach. His good shoulder brushed Enzo’s “You think they’ve got the stash onboard?”
A weird question, but then it was ten million dollars’ worth of illegal drugs. The task force would want it back as quickly as possible.
“No idea.”
“Not what I want to hear. You best hope they brought my jewels,” the agent said, just before lightning hit Enzo in the chest.
Every muscle cramped, jamming his teeth together and squeezing his bones.
Lights exploded behind his eyes, sending pain shooting through every cell, lighting every nerve ending on fire.
His last thought was of Sarah, his last sensation, the heat of rotor wash across his face.
Lord, help us.