Caught in the Act (27 page)

Adam touched his shoulder. “Yeah.”

“The M-VACIS has located a gray panel truck with heavy fluorescing. Looks like the load you were after.”

“Which lane?”

“The driver is at inspection booth twelve. We are ready to pursue.”

Adam straightened, glancing toward the group of vehicles ICE had gathered for the mission. Normally he
didn’t assist in arrests outside the port of entry, but today Adam was acting as a liaison between CBP and ICE. He couldn’t stay at San Ysidro and console Kari, or even give his supervisor a quick rundown of the situation.

When the smoke cleared, he might lose his job … and her.

“Fuck,” he said, leaving the secondary inspection crew to process the scene. Hopefully Kari wouldn’t be arrested for murder before he returned.

Adam climbed into the backseat of a black-on-black squad car just as the truck from lane twelve passed through inspection. Two unmarked vehicles led the pursuit. The driver of the car Adam was in, an ICE agent, followed at a short distance.

“We know where he’s headed?” the agent asked.

“No,” Adam replied, putting another call in to Ian. His friend didn’t pick up. “It’s a basic stop-and-go.”

A stop-and-go operation was typical in drug enforcement. Agents followed the vehicle to the drop-off location and arrested all involved parties on the spot. Adam didn’t think they were going to nab Chuy Pena, but it would be a major bust regardless. If nothing else, they were taking a large shipment of narcotics off the street.

While they were en route, Adam sent his brother a text message, telling him to abort. He suspected that Gabe had been struggling with PTSD since his last tour. Adam hoped he wasn’t having flashbacks of Iraq.

The panel truck cruised through a business district in downtown San Diego, pulling into an open garage at an auto parts warehouse. And just like that, it was go time.
The lead vehicles jerked to a stop behind the truck, blocking it in, and several patrol cars weaved through the midday traffic, sirens blaring.

Adam wanted to get in on the action, but this phase of the operation was out of his hands. The supervisor directed them to circle around the block, securing the perimeter. As soon as they rounded the corner, a trio of men in dark clothing walked away from the back door of the warehouse, heading toward a silver Mercedes.

One of the suspects stood out from the others. He was tall and lean, a baseball cap covering his hair. After tracking this man’s movements for two years, Adam recognized his gait, his bone structure, his … aura.

“That’s Carlos Moreno,” he said, stunned.

The driver notified his superior of this unexpected development and stepped on the gas, racing down the street. Unfortunately, Moreno spotted the black-on-black squad car just before he climbed into the Mercedes. His eyes darted to the crowded intersection at the end of the block. Perhaps he decided that leaving by automobile wasn’t the best choice, because he turned around and fled the scene on foot.

The instant the squad car pulled up to the Mercedes, Adam was out on the street, his weapon drawn.

While his fellow officers dealt with the other two men, Adam took off after Moreno, running hard. The cartel leader was surprisingly fast. They raced down two blocks at full speed, dodging cars and street signs. Moreno pushed a trash can over, littering the sidewalk with debris. Adam leapt over the mess, clearing the trash barrel. Moreno lost a few seconds to the failed maneuver. When Adam started to gain on him, Moreno went
into overdrive. In a burst of energy, he darted between two buildings, his legs pumping.

Adam couldn’t believe he was running down Carlos Moreno. He hadn’t expected to see him at all today. Moreno rarely got his hands dirty with drug shipments—it was too risky. Maybe the screwup with Chuy Pena had forced him to take over the delivery.

It was an incredible stroke of luck for law enforcement.

Adam followed Moreno into the narrow alleyway, where he caught another break. It was a dead end. Moreno slowed to a stop at the brick wall, his posture bowed with defeat, chest heaving from exertion.

“Put your hands up,” Adam shouted, pointing his gun at the back of Moreno’s head.

Moreno lifted his arms, surrendering easily. He also glanced over his shoulder, giving Adam a quick perusal.

“Face forward,” Adam ordered, moving closer.

“I thought you looked familiar,” Moreno said.

Adam came to a halt a few feet away. “Brace your hands against the wall and shut the fuck up.”

“I know you, Cortez.”

“You don’t know me.”

Although Moreno’s head was turned, Adam could see the edge of his smirking profile. “Yeah, I do. You’re the cop boyfriend of Penelope Mendes.”

Shock and fury washed over him. The barrel of his gun wavered, the trigger slick against his fingertip.

“You thought I didn’t know you were stalking me? How … cute.”

“Fuck you,” Adam said, rage narrowing his vision.

Moreno looked back again, his expression almost
pitying. “You should have kept her out of trouble,
hermano
. A woman like that belongs in a man’s bed, not on the streets of Tijuana, asking dangerous questions.”

Adam decided he could shoot Moreno right now and get away with it. His fellow officers would never know the drug lord hadn’t resisted arrest or reached for a weapon. There were no witnesses.

It was just him and Adam.

For several long, drawn-out seconds he wanted to do it. The bloodlust Adam thought had receded over the past six months pumped fresh and new, reaching a powerful crescendo. The urge to pull the trigger was almost overwhelming. With relish, he pictured Moreno’s head exploding.

He knew Penelope wouldn’t have approved of his vigilantism, but that mental argument had always failed to sway him. It wasn’t what stilled his hand now. He didn’t picture a ghostly, dark-haired angel frowning down on him from heaven. Instead he conjured a very real Kari, staring at him like he’d killed her heart.

If he went through with this, he’d never be able to look her in the eye again. He wouldn’t deserve a chance to make it up to her. If he murdered someone in cold blood, he couldn’t live with himself.

His soul would die.

“Put your hands behind your head and interlock your fingers,” he said, reaching for his cuffs. Just as he touched the metal, a shot rang out behind him. Not the heavy blast of a handgun but a hissing round from a high-powered rifle.

Apparently Moreno had a sharpshooter on his team as well.

Adam felt the bullet rip into his left side, penetrating his uniform and slamming against one of the armor plates in his ballistics vest. CBP officers were required to wear a Level IV vest, the maximum protection. The body armor was a weighty nuisance, damned near unbearable on hot days—and he’d never been so glad for the burden.

Even with the vest on, getting shot hurt like a bitch. The impact reverberated through the protective plate, rattling his teeth. He stumbled sideways, barely maintaining a grip on his weapon. His handcuffs clattered to the sidewalk.

“Motherfucker,” he muttered, whirling into a defensive stance. He searched for the shooter on the rooftop, locating him immediately. Heart racing with fear, he wrapped his left hand around his right wrist, needing both arms to hold his revolver steady. Although he managed to squeeze off a shot, his Beretta was outmatched. The rifleman fired again, hitting Adam in the upper part of his chest.

And that was all she wrote.

He fell back against the building, stunned into utter uselessness. His right arm felt like a slab of meat. He couldn’t draw breath. Adam wasn’t completely sure that his gear had held up. Contrary to popular belief, bulletproof vests couldn’t stop every type of ammunition.

Then his lungs expanded, sucking in oxygen, and he knew the bullet hadn’t penetrated his chest cavity.

But the point was moot. Because Moreno had turned and drawn on him.

Adam tried to bring his gun arm up to protect himself, and failed. A deep ache radiated from his collarbone
to his fingertips, making him nauseous. The first hit hadn’t incapacitated him, perhaps because his lateral muscle had absorbed more of the impact. The flesh on his upper chest wasn’t as meaty.

Moreno stepped closer, looking down at Adam with cautious curiosity. How easily their roles had reversed. Adam could almost read Moreno’s thought processes as he contemplated pulling the trigger. His indecisiveness surprised Adam. He hadn’t expected the drug lord to have a conscience, let alone struggle with it.

They stared at each other like equals.

“I didn’t kill your girlfriend,” Moreno said finally.

Adam drew in another sharp breath, his chest burning with two kinds of pain. “Did you kill yours?”

Moreno’s face revealed an emotion Adam recognized well: anguish. He holstered his weapon in an angry motion, jerking his chin toward the sharpshooter above. “My associate will shoot you in the head if you make a move.”

Adam could only lie there, watching his nemesis walk away.

Kari’s knee was bleeding again.

She couldn’t believe Adam had set her up. When they dragged her away in handcuffs, he’d looked right through her. He hadn’t appeared sad, or conflicted, or coldly satisfied. His face was a mask. He didn’t even acknowledge her.

Bastard.

She was sick with worry for Sasha, shaking uncontrollably. The detainment area was made up of four
walls, a locked door, and a concrete bench. With her wrists locked behind her back, she couldn’t do anything about her knee. The bandages had been knocked askew when she’d been forced to the ground. Beneath the fabric of her jeans, blood oozed from the wound, dripping down her shin in an agonizingly slow crawl.

The only thing that sustained her was anger. She felt like a wild animal, ready to pounce. If Adam was in front of her right now and her hands were free, she’d rip his face off.

Her fear was too sharp, too painful. So she focused on the rage instead.

He’d lied to her. Over and over again. And she’d bought it because she was a lonely, pathetic fool. Her hungry heart had eaten up every word, every gesture, every pseudo-sincere expression.

She must have had
sucker
written on her forehead. Right next to
fuck me
.

Why had she believed him? Because he was handsome and exciting and fantastic in bed? He’d said he cared about her, that she was special to him, and he didn’t love Penelope anymore. What bullshit!

She understood that he was a lying son of a bitch, but she didn’t know what had gone wrong with the plan. Why would they arrest her and give up the chance to take down Moreno’s crew members? More important, what would happen to Sasha? If her sister had been harmed because of Adam’s deception, she’d never forgive him.

Kari was still shivering, and seething, when a female CBP officer came into the detainment room. She had short, dark hair and a midnight-blue uniform. “Ms. Strauss? I’m Officer Li.”

Kari just stared at her, teeth chattering. She couldn’t extend her hand, and she sure as hell wasn’t pleased to meet her.

“Come with me.”

She stood, allowing Officer Li to guide her out the door. There was a small room nearby with a table and three chairs. When the woman removed her handcuffs, Kari massaged her aching wrists. Her arms felt like rubber.

“Have a seat,” Li said.

There was a bottle of water on the table. Kari unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. “Can I use the restroom?”

“Sure.” Li pointed to the nearest door.

After Kari used the facilities, she bent over the sink, washing her hands and face. Her mouth tasted like blood. Pulling up her pant leg, she cleaned her knee as well as she could, blotting the scrape with a paper towel. Under the fluorescent lighting, her skin looked ghostly, the shadows beneath her eyes like purple bruises.

She left the bathroom, taking a seat across from Officer Li. Although she knew that asking for a lawyer was in her best interests, Kari was more concerned about Sasha’s well-being than her own. She also didn’t give a damn if Adam got in trouble.

“Do you know why you’re here?” Li asked.

“I assume there were drugs in my cargo space.”

“You’re not sure?”

After a brief hesitation, she explained that she’d made a deal to smuggle some packages across the border in exchange for her sister’s debt.

“It didn’t occur to you to call the police?”

“I was afraid for my sister’s life. That’s why I approached Officer Cortez.”

“Officer Cortez,” she repeated, arching a brow.

Kari nodded. “We met at my store and … hit it off. He agreed to help me. Obviously he didn’t follow through.”

“What is your relationship with him?”

Kari knew she could cause Adam a lot of grief by telling the truth, but she was too proud to admit she’d been screwed by him in more ways than one. “There is no relationship,” she said, lifting her chin. “Can I call my sister?”

Officer Li’s expression revealed an emotion that Kari didn’t want to recognize. It was part revulsion, part pity.

“Is Adam available?” Kari asked, tamping down her anxiety.

“Officer Cortez is not on site.”

Tears of anger and frustration filled Kari’s eyes. Wasn’t that just like a man? He’d used her and ditched her.

“I have some bad news for you,” Li said.

Kari’s heart dropped. “No.”

“Your sister was found in the cargo space of your vehicle.”

“Is she okay?”

“No, ma’am. She’s deceased.”

Kari stared at Officer Li, her lips trembling. Tears poured down her cheeks, unchecked. “No. Please, no. It’s not true.”

“I’m afraid it is. Would you like to identify the body?”

After taking a moment to let the finality sink in, she rose to her feet, swaying a little. “Yes. Let me see her.”

Officer Li led her out to the secondary inspection
area, guiding Kari by one arm as if she were an invalid. When the crime scene investigator unzipped the body bag, revealing Sasha’s frozen face, Kari was glad for the support.

She collapsed on the blacktop, devastated.

19

Maria screamed, trying to yank her arm from Chuy’s grip.