Flint’s Battle (Team KOA Bravo #3)

Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

“You know, if you keep pouting like that, your face will get stuck, and then even Flint won’t want to kiss you.”

Emery eyed her brother as she sat in his office, willing the damn phone to ring. “Flint would kiss me no matter what.”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know, sis. Even a guy like Flint has his limits and you’re approaching creepy doll sour.”

Emery laughed. “Shut up. I don’t look like a creepy doll, you ass.”

Jack grinned. “Much better.” He ambled over, resting his hip on his desk. “They’re going to be okay.”

“I know.” Though, saying it didn’t stop the traitorous roil of her stomach. Or the shivers that raced down her spine. “It’s just nearly one, and they haven’t called.”

“Dealers rarely keep bankers’ hours.”

“Still.” She sucked at her bottom lip. She hated waiting. Knowing that if any of the men got hurt, it was on her.

Jack sighed, moving over to sit beside her on the small sofa. “You know Flint’s faced far worse than this in the service, right?”

“Of course, I do but we all know any bullet can kill you. And there’s going to be a lot of them flying around, tonight. No way any of those guys are going down without a fight.”

Jack eyed her. “Wow. This isn’t just a promising relationship, is it? You really love the guy. Like, soul mate kind of love.”

“Soul mate kinda love? Seriously?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. I knew the moment I met Leia she was different. Hell, I would have asked her to marry me a month later if I hadn’t been worried everyone would think I’d gone mad. That’s what this is with Flint.”

“Relax. It’s not like we’re picking out china patterns.”

“But you would.”

Emery couldn’t stop from smiling. “Who needs china these days?”

“I honestly wasn’t sure you’d ever find a man who could take the punishment of living with you for the next fifty years.” Jack nudged her. “Flint might be the only guy on the planet who’s tough enough to go the distance. So, stop worrying. If he can handle you, he can handle a few mafia assholes.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“He’s a good man, Em. And I’m pretty damn sure he’s stupid in love with you, too, so he’s not going to let some gang banger cap his ass. Have some faith.”

“I have all the faith in Flint and his team. It’s everyone else I’m doubting.”

Jack pressed a hand to his chest. “Ouch. A fatal blow.”

“Seriously. You’re an ass.” She jumped when the alarm sounded through the station, shouts arising from outside Jack’s door. “Shit. You should go.”

Jack stood, smoothing his hands down his shirt. “I’m not on duty tonight. And I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Then, at least go and help get everyone out the door. I’ll stand at the back and be in sight the entire time.” Emery scoffed. “You’re the captain, which I still can’t believe. That they actually put you in charge. That’s just wild. Does the chief have a drug problem by chance? Alcohol, maybe?”

“And you being a detective is any more believable? Milligan lets you walk around armed.”

“You’re armed, too, jerk.”

“But I’m responsible. You’re liable to shoot some guy in the ass if he looks at you funny.”

Emery smiled at him. “I don’t have to do that, anymore. I’ve got Flint now.”

Jack chuckled, cursing when someone pounded on his door then ran off. “Swear you’ll stay in sight at all times, and you won’t try to ditch me.”

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.”

He went to his door, clearing the area before waving her through, then heading for the main bay. Men were bustling around, putting on gear as others loaded extra supplies into the trucks.

Jack joined in the fray, directing the men as he checked some equipment, then helped move one of the smaller trucks out of the way. All the while with half his focus on her. And Emery had to admit, her big brother was impressive. Calm. Assertive. With a sense of humor that put the other men at ease. It was obvious everyone respected him.

She nodded at him when he jumped out of the truck. “If you need to go, I can lock my own ass up in your office, you know. Not exactly helpless.”

“Generally, that’s true. But you’re barely staying on your feet.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’ll be fine in a few weeks, if you actually let your body heal before you try to kick another mafia guy’s ass.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice.”

His smile fell. “I know. And I couldn’t be prouder. Now, let’s get you back in the office where I know it’s safe.”

“Can’t we go get a latte?”

“You have a problem, you know that right?”

“Yeah. You.”

He placed his palm on the small of her back when someone yelled his name. Emery turned, inhaling when she saw a blond-haired man standing on the other side of the bay. The same asshole she’d chased across the beach that night.

Jack turned, frowning. “Morgan why the hell aren’t you on the damn truck?—”

“Jack, get down.”

She tried to shove Jack out of the way when his body jerked, slamming him back a few feet into the wall. He hit hard, dropping to the floor a moment later, a smear of blood along the beige paint.

Emery reached for her weapon, when a gun cocked next to her head. She froze, shifting her gaze to the officer standing beside her. The kid who’d been guarding her room at the hospital. Bates, she thought.

The blond-haired guy — Morgan, her brother had said — tsked. “I wouldn’t do that, detective, unless you want me to finish Jack off with a head shot?” He sneered at Jack. “I never did like you, captain.”

She stepped on front of Jack, one hand raised. “Let’s all just take a breath.”

“Don’t fucking patronize me, bitch. I’m totally relaxed.” He inched closer. “Now, you can either get your ass in big brother’s SUV nice and quietly, or you can fight, and I’ll blow Jack’s head off. Your choice.”

Jack mumbled something behind her, his voice hoarse. Barely more than a whisper. Emery chanced a quick glance, holding in the scream clawing at her throat at the sheer amount of blood pooling on the ground. What would likely kill him if he didn’t get help soon.

She forced herself to swallow. “I’ll go. No need for more violence.”

“I thought you might see it my way. Bates, get the keys. It’s time we took a drive.”

“Come on, Jack, pick up your damn phone.”

Flint slammed his hand down on his thigh, resisting the urge to throw the cell out the window as Bowie headed for the station. Flint had been calling Jack for nearly five minutes, but the man hadn’t answered. Which had gotten that voice inside Flint’s head screaming at him. Replaying what Lewis had said on the beach. How it was already too late. That someone else had gone after Emery.

Bowie elbowed him. “Breathe, buddy. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. They probably just got a call, and he can’t hear his phone over the alarm.”

“Or maybe Lewis wasn’t lying, and they sent a team to the station.”

“Jack’s pretty capable. And he’ll guard Emery with his life.”

“I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Bowie sighed. “About a minute out.”

Which was sixty second too long in Flint’s book and could easily be the difference between life and death. How he’d felt trapped on the bottom of the ocean, waiting for the wave to let him up with Emery dead in his arms.

Kian had brought her back. But what if he couldn’t this time? Flint had called. Woken the poor guy up. Though his friend hadn’t complained, telling Flint he’d meet him at the station. That he’d see if Blake was up to grabbing her chopper and heading over…

Just in case.

God, Flint hated thinking this might be another epic mistake.

“Stop.”

Flint jerked out of his thoughts, glancing at Bowie. “Stop, what?”

“Replaying everything in your head. Running through all the what-ifs. Blaming yourself. We all made the best decisions we could at the time with the intel we had. If shit’s gone sideways, we’ll assess the situation and react accordingly. Period.”

“And if I’m the reason she’s dead?”

“She’s not. You heard Lewis. If the bastard’s telling the truth, and that’s a fucking huge if, then Emery’s their insurance policy. Which means they need her alive. But regardless, we’ll see they get it all back ten-fold.”

Bowie turned into the station lot, then squealed to a stop. “Shit.”

But Flint was already out and hoofing it for the main bay doors. Catching Jack as the man stumbled through, shirt soaked with blood. His skin so white it was tinged blue. Flint managed not to drop the guy, easing him onto the pavement just inside the opening. Keeping him out of the rain and the fog. What was shaping up to be a monstrous storm.

Jack fisted Flint’s shirt, trying to shove him off. “I’ll… be fine. Go…” He coughed — spit out some blood — then collapsed, his hand falling to his chest.

Flint ripped the man’s shirt open, taking the packet of Quick Clot Carter handed him. At least they had a nicely stocked first aid kit. What might be enough to keep Jack alive until Kian arrived.

Quinn moved in beside him. “I called nine-one-one. They’ll be here within five.”

Flint scoffed, kneeling on the wound in order to stop the bleeding. “He doesn’t have another five minutes.”

“Christ…” Jack coughed, again, finally looking up at Flint. “Talk about… dramatic.” He groaned when Flint put more pressure on his shoulder. “I’m not… not dead… yet.”

“And if you want to keep it that way, you’ll shut up and let me try to stop the bleeding. Even a guy as stubborn as you will run out, eventually.”

Jack snorted, but it was weak. As if speaking those few words had taken half the strength out of him. “Go. Em.”

“If they took Emery, then she’s alive and has a few minutes to spare. You on the other hand, don’t.” Flint kept up the pressure when a truck skidded into the lot, the headlights cutting a path through the fog.

Quinn looked up and over his shoulder. “Kian’s here.”

Flint nodded, sending up a silent prayer when Kian took Quinn’s place and laid a mammoth bag on the ground beside him. He didn’t talk, just went to work. Less than a minute and he had an IV set up — was packing Jack’ shoulder then wrapping it tight. Bowie must have updated Kian once they’d arrived, or the guy just knew things would go for shit, because Raider showed up a minute later with a few pints of blood. Flint wasn’t sure where they’d gotten it. If Kian kept a personal stash someplace or Raider had robbed a blood blank on the way over. Regardless, it might be the only reason Jack didn’t die in the next two minutes.

Jack grabbed Flint’s wrist, glaring at Kian when the man tried to get him to relax. “Bates…”

Flint frowned. “Bates? As in the officer from the hospital?”

Jack nodded, nearly passed out, but managed to blink — look up at Flint. “Took her. Morgan…”

“Bates is the asshole who took her? With some guy named Morgan? Did they say where they were going?”

Jack shook his head. Not much, but Flint got the message.

He leaned over. “Did you see which way they went?”

Another shake but he did his best to tug Flint closer. “My… vehicle.”

“You want me to take your SUV?”

“No.” He growled, eyes rolling as he shook his head, again. “Em…”

Bowie shouldered in. “Those assholes took Emery in your work vehicle?”

A nod.

Kian huffed. “I realize this is important, but you’re gonna undo all my work if you don’t stay still, Jack.”

Jack coughed, then grimaced, all but ignoring Kian as he wet his lips. “Roof.”

Bowie looked at Flint but he wasn’t sure what Jack was trying to say, either. “The roof?”

“SUV.”

Kian glanced over at them. “I think he’s trying to tell you that his vehicle has aerial roof markings.” Kian leaned over Jack. “Are they thermal?”

Another nod. Or maybe it was just Jack’s head bowing toward his chest as he passed out. Kian cursed, looking back when sirens wailed in the distance, an ambulance pulling into the station a minute later, lights flashing. Two attendants jumping out of the machine.

They raced over, chatting with Kian for all of thirty seconds before rolling Jack onto a gurney then wheeling him away.

Raider leaned in. “I’ll go with Jack in case you’re needed for Emery. I promise, I won’t leave his side.”

“Thanks. And Raider.” Flint nodded toward Jack. “If he regains consciousness before you get to the hospital, tell him I’ll get Emery back.”

Raider took off, climbing in behind the medics. The ambulance took off, lighting up the fog before it disappeared.

Bowie gave Flint a light tap. “I called Hawk. He’s got Waylen hacking his way into the station computers. He’ll try to locate the GPS unit on Jack’s vehicle. But if both these guys are first responders, they’ll know about it and most likely disconnect it. Waylen’s also checking any kind of camera along the major roads out of here. Speed traps. Banks and ATMs. If there’s an image of that SUV, Waylen’ll find it.”

“While that’s all great, we can’t just sit here and hope some ATM unit was being used at the exact moment that vehicle drove past. We need to head out before any information will be useless because we’ll be too far away. And my gut’s saying, they’re heading for a boat.”

Kian snagged his arm. “Blake’s on her way. Two minutes.”

“Blake’s flying in this? How they hell can she even see?”

“Beats the hell out of me. Sometimes, I think she’s half magician. But she’s your best shot at finding Emery.”

“Yeah, if she doesn’t fly us into a volcano. I can’t ask her to do that. She’s pregnant for god’s sake. If anything happened to her or the baby…”

Flint wouldn’t be able to look in the mirror.

Kian simply smiled. “Blake will push the limits more than anyone I’ve ever met. But she wouldn’t put us or the baby in jeopardy. If she says she can fly, she’s good.”

They all turned at the echo of the chopper a moment later, the fog making it seem as if it was coming from every direction. It wasn’t until it was only a few hundred feet away that Flint was able to distinguish it from the surrounding cloud bank, the rain blending everything together.

Blake landed several seconds later, eddies of fog twirling around the blades. She spooled down the engines then waved them over, holding everything steady until Kian had closed the rear door then hopped in the front.

A tap to her shoulder and they were off, climbing just over tree height before banking north. An eerie gray surrounded the machine, all that fog swallowing the whop of the rotors. Leaving just the steady patter of rain echoing through the cabin.

Blake keyed up her mic, gaze focused on the dash. “Waylen’s already got a hit off a traffic camera. They’re heading north. He thinks they’re probably going to a private marina on the other side of the island. Which makes sense, especially if we’re still missing someone from the Coast Guard who’s been helping them out. It’s where a lot of officers dock their own boats.”

Flint nodded, cursing when the chopper dropped twenty feet when they obviously hit a down draft, that rain kicking up even more. “Are you sure you’re okay to fly in this? I can’t see shit.”

Emery glanced back at him. “Honestly? I’ve flown in worse. But that was over the ocean, and I wasn’t worried about hills and trees and towers. And based on the weather report, it’s only a matter of time before lightning enters the mix, so…”

She rolled her shoulders, tapping something on one of the panels. “Buckle up, gentlemen. This might get epic.”