Striking Distance

Javier took advantage of the increased noise level to click off the safety on the AR-15 and move, positioning himself against the wooden wall near what would have been a doorway. His response times were slower than they should be, and he knew he must be hypothermic. He’d have to plan for that.

“The whole country is going to care about him when the truth comes out. How do you sleep at night? Do you see the faces of the people you’ve murdered?” She was trying to keep him off guard, trying to keep him talking.

“You think you’re so brave, but I know you’re not. I’m going to prove it to you. See what I brought?” The bastard laughed. “I knew you’d appreciate it. You’re afraid now, aren’t you?”

“Y-yes, I’m afraid. I’m afraid you’ve made a very big mistake.”

“The only reason you’re still alive is that I can’t decide how I want to kill you. Once you’re actually dead, I won’t get the chance to do this again. I want to do it right, to enjoy it. I can either listen to you scream while you burn to death, or I can watch your face as I cut off your head. But I can’t do both.”

“How frustrating that must be for you.”

Javier closed his mind to what he was hearing and crept into position, peering around the corner, taking in the scene at a glance.

Kimball stood with his back toward Javier, a large serrated bread knife in his hand. Laura was bound by duct tape to a chair in front of him. A half dozen gas canisters were placed strategically around the room, two of them flanking Laura.

Did they contain fuel or ANFO? Were they rigged to blow?

Javier had no idea. He drew back, working the plan through in his mind, visualizing each step of it, taking his own sluggishness into account.

“I know you were terrified by the thought of Al-Nassar cutting your head off like this. But isn’t it better to die this way than to burn to death? What do you think?”

“I-I think . . . you should run . . . while you can.”

Listen to her,

pendejo

.

Javier made his decision, his muscles tensing.

It was time to bring the pain.

* * *

LAURA COULDN’T STOP herself from shaking, fear stealing her breath, making her pulse race. She’d run out of time, and she knew it.

They weren’t going to find her. Javier probably knew she was missing by now. One way or another he would find her car—either by tracing her cell phone or by getting the address from Joaquin. He’d call Zach, Marc, Julian—but they would be too late. They would only learn what had happened to her after firefighters reported discovering a charred body in the ashes of this house and the ME identified her remains.

A wave of despair washed through her, the hope that had held her together unraveling thread by thread.

Kimball moved to stand behind her. He fisted his hands in her hair and forced her head back, pressing the rough edge of the blade against her trachea and carotid artery. “If I cut your throat here, you’ll suffocate, bleed out, die fast. But if I start here,” he said, tilting her head to the side, moving the blade to press against the muscles at the back of her neck, “you might last a little longer.”

Laura’s mind raced as Kimball tormented her with his words, thoughts chasing one another through her mind.

An image of her mother’s and grandmother’s faces. They would never recover from this. Losing her the first time had devastated them.

I’m sorry, Mom. I’m so sorry.

She hoped her mother would keep up the fight to reclaim Klara.

Forgive me, Klara. I wish I’d at least gotten to see you, to hold you.

And Javier . . .

They hadn’t been together long enough, not nearly long enough, but she was grateful for every moment she’d had with him. He’d brought her back to herself, made her feel alive again. Because of him, she wouldn’t die the broken woman Al-Nassar had left behind. She would die as herself.

Somehow, that mattered so much in this moment.

I love you, Javi. Be happy. Be safe.

As hard as she fought to hide her fear, a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.

Kimball noticed, wiped it roughly away with his thumb. “You’re not so tough after all, are you?”

And then she saw him.

Javier!

Wet and covered with mud, he appeared out of nowhere, rifle aimed at Kimball. “Hey,

pendejo

, who’s afraid now?”

Kimball jumped, the knife blade falling to the floor. “What—”

Click.

The rifle didn’t fire.

“Carajo!”

Javier quickly sidestepped, cleared the misfire, and aimed again.

“Put the weapon down, or I’ll blow this place to pieces!”

Laura looked over her shoulder and saw Kimball backing slowly away, something clutched in his hand.

The detonator.

“I said put it down, or she’s dead!” Kimball’s voice was slick with fear.

Barely able to breathe, Laura looked up at Javier, whose gaze was fixed on Kimball, pure loathing on his face, his dark eyes cold.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Javier fired quick three shots, making Laura gasp.

“No, motherfucker,

you’re

dead.” Javier walked over to where Kimball lay still and bleeding on the floor, pried the detonator from his hand, and set it aside.

And then he was there, kneeling beside her and peeling off the duct tape that bound her to the chair.

Relief soared through her, leaving her light-headed. “I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe you found me. How—”

“Let’s get you out of here in case this place really is set to blow.” He tore off the tape that bound her ankles, scooped her into his arms, and carried her away from Kimball’s body and out what would have been the back door.

Laura wrapped her arms around him and tucked her face against his neck, some part of her still struggling to comprehend that it was over, that she was safe.

He carried her past one partially built house and another, finally stopping when they reached a concrete foundation a few houses down. He set her down and knelt beside her, his hands searching her body for injuries. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine now.” In truth, she was still shaking like a leaf.

He caught her face between his cold palms and traced his thumb over her bruised cheek, his gaze going soft when it met hers. “God,

bella

, I was afraid I’d lost you.”

“I was afraid I’d lost me, too.” She reached up and ran her fingertips over his jaw.

In the next heartbeat, they were kissing, the rushing of her pulse all but drowning out the approaching sound of police sirens. Or was that helicopters?

Laura didn’t know, didn’t care. All that mattered to her in that moment was the man in her arms, the man who’d just saved her life, the man she loved.

They were still kissing when an unmarked SUV, a big SWAT van, and two Adams County sheriff’s vehicles pulled up beside them, sirens blaring.

Laura heard Zach’s voice.

He stood off to the side. “I want two ambulances—one for whatever is left of Kimball and one for those two.”

Javier ended the kiss. “Kimball is three houses down. Be careful. He had a detonator, and there are fuel cans all over the place.”

“I sure am glad to see you in one piece, Laura.” Zach got on his radio and called for an EOD unit. He took a good look at Javier. “You’re hypothermic.”