Everyone around the podium looked stunned. I was supposed to give updates to the public and make another plea for tips. My first press conference, I was introduced as a “close loved one who would be the spokesperson for the family.” For the last two days, my scripts clearly haven’t been working.
And before the cameras stopped rolling, I looked to the special agent in charge standing to my left and said, “My advice is we discontinue these operations. He’s not a threat, and it’s a waste of our resources when we have bigger fish to fry.”
Someone behind me cursed, because I changed the narrative without consulting anyone.
I walked off camera. That was three hours ago.
“We need to consider packing it up, Jess.” I see the hotel parking lot ahead. I chose to stay at one away from the bustle of downtown.
“And so we head back to Pittsburgh?” she asks.
“I could stay here in Miami with you,” I say, pulling into the lot and choosing a spot not too close to the building. “But that would be so risky. I’d like you to come back to Pittsburgh where we can at least have Jameson’s help, but I know that’s uprooting you and Thea. Your mom, too, of course.”
“I don’t want to be away from you, so whatever you think is best,” she says. “They probably know who you are, so Pittsburgh might be safer.”
“Kynan would let me work out of the Vegas office,” I offer. We talked about it at lunch today because he was also getting the sense that Borovsky was going to lie way too low for us to nab him. “We could get new identities. Wait it out until he’s captured.”
“I like that idea. Let’s do it. Let’s leave tomorrow and go.”
I smile, turning off my car. “I can start things rolling. Why don’t you call your mom and talk to her about it? She gets a say since we’re all in this together.”
“God, I love you.” I can hear the quaver in her voice. “You’re just making it so easy.”
Movement across the shadowy parking lot catches my attention. The regularly spaced lampposts don’t provide continual light but rather patches. I squint, and two rows over, I see a car where all four doors open at once.
Four men step out, and they’re staring at my car. I don’t see Borovsky with them, but I have no doubt who they are.
My heart jackhammers.
This is it.
I don’t want to worry Jess. I’ll have to leave it up to Kynan to let her know what happened.
“I’m at the hotel,” I say, watching the men walk my way. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay,” she replies, her voice easy and relaxed. I think the prospect of this all being over soon—at least to her—has put her mind at ease. I hate that she’s got no clue what’s about to go down, and I can only hope my Jameson mates are in position to follow.
“I love you, JJ.”
“Love you too,” she chirps. “Call me once you’re settled.”
“Will do.” It’s hard to choke out the lie, but I do and disconnect the call.
I quickly shoot a text to Kynan: They’re here.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I open the car door. By the time I unfold my body, the men have reached me. I don’t even pretend to be shocked they’re here. I recognize one of the men who approached me and Jess that day at her house—the one I didn’t shoot.
“You need to come with us,” he says, holding a hand at the edge of his jacket, a silent indication he has a gun. “You can do it the easy way, or the hard way.”
“Gonna have to be the hard way,” I say, knowing that every minute I can buy is going to give the team time to assimilate. I don’t wait for them to make the move, doing my father’s patented bulldozer move. Lowering my shoulder, I plow into the nearest man. He grunts as I catch him off guard just below his sternum. He flies to the pavement.
I turn to face the next attacker, but four on one are not good fighting odds. I might be built like a tank, have a good year of training in martial arts, and one of the bad guys is on the ground, but I can’t fend off the other three who jump me all at once. I catch a fist to my jaw, my head ringing. Two of the men grab my arms and then there’s another fist to my gut. I tighten my abs, but it still knocks the breath clean out of me.
I struggle to throw them off, but it’s useless. The Russian I’d sent to the pavement stands up, and he’s seriously pissed. I pay for what I did to him with an elbow to the side of my head, and my vision goes fuzzy.