Hunt Them Down

Should he call Anna back? What guarantee did he have that she wouldn’t try to kill him for what he’d done to her? And what about her brother, Tony? He wasn’t the forgiving type, and, with the warrant, Hunt certainly didn’t need any more trouble at this point.

Hunt sensed a presence behind him, the same way a blind man might sense the position of the sun from its warmth. He didn’t have to turn around to guess who it was. If McMaster’s contact at the Miami-Dade Police Department knew about the warrant, so did Detective Milburne.

“Do you have the dashcam video of my daughter’s kidnapping, Detective?” Hunt asked, keeping his back to the detective and turning off his phone.

“I’m afraid the camera disappeared from the evidence locker, Mr. Hunt,” Milburne replied. “I’m sure someone misplaced it—that’s all.”

Hunt cursed. Like things aren’t bad enough already.

“There’s another delicate matter we need to discuss, Mr. Hunt,” Milburne said, his voice strained. Hunt noticed the detective had used the word mister, not agent.

Yes, I know. My arrest, Hunt thought.

Hunt turned to face him. The detective was standing a safe distance away, his right hand on the butt of his pistol. No doubt Milburne had called for backup. The idyllic island of La Gorce would soon be cordoned off.

“What is it?” Hunt said, letting things play out. He hoped to learn who had authorized the arrest warrant and why.

“I know this isn’t a good time, and I’m sure this will be cleared the moment you speak with the FBI, but they’ve issued a warrant for your arrest.”

Hunt made an effort to appear surprised and docile. “Really? On what grounds?”

“I don’t know,” Milburne replied, but Hunt sensed the detective was lying.

“Stop the bullshit, and tell me what’s really going on.”

“Aggravated battery.”

Hunt frowned. “What are you taking about?”

“One of your rounds hit a bystander,” Milburne said, his voice sincere and apologetic. “I’m truly sorry.”

Hunt’s right knee buckled, and he had to hold on to the wall to remain standing. Could it be true? Harming an innocent bystander was a law enforcement officer’s worst nightmare.

“Is the person okay?” Hunt managed to mumble.

“I’m told he’s in surgery. The bullet missed his shinbone by a fraction of an inch and tore through his calf,” Milburne explained, using his fingers to show by how much the round had missed the bone.

Hunt breathed a sigh of relief, but the respite was short-lived.

“You’ll have to come with me,” Milburne said, pulling out his handcuffs. “I’m sorry, but I have no choice. Someone caught the whole scene from an adjacent building. The person you shot is pressing charges.”

Hunt grunted. He felt terrible for the bystander, and his sense of duty told him to follow the detective. But now that his daughter had been taken, he couldn’t.

“Can I send a quick message?” he asked the detective.

“More cars are headed here,” Milburne warned, “so make it quick.”

“I need your lighter.”

Milburne gave him a quizzical look but lobbed it to him anyway.

Hunt caught it with his left hand and typed a quick message to his friend Simon Carter—who was now leading the rapid response team since the events in Chicago. He attached the fingerprints he had lifted from the assaulters to his email before sending it. Carter was someone he trusted. He’d know what to do with those.

Hunt powered down his phone and quickly removed its back cover. He took out the SIM card and held it in the flame of Milburne’s cigarette lighter until it had melted beyond salvage. He threw the lighter back to Milburne. For a second, Milburne took his eyes off Hunt to search for his lighter. Hunt made his move and closed the gap. With a powerful sweep of his right leg, he kicked the detective’s feet from under him, and Milburne crashed down hard on his side in the hallway. Hunt grabbed his arm and flipped him over onto his stomach. Hunt used Milburne’s own handcuffs to secure his hands behind his back. Milburne didn’t resist or fight back. It was as if he understood perfectly what Hunt was doing and why. Was that why he had told him more cars were on the way?

Jasmine and Moon suddenly appeared around the corner from the living room, and if they were surprised or shocked by what they saw, they didn’t show it. Jasmine asked, “What will you do?”

“I’m gonna get our daughter back.”

She nodded to Chris in an I told you so manner.

“If you need money, anything, please let me know,” Moon offered.

Hunt straightened. “As a matter of fact, can I borrow your new Blackwater?”





CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Miami, Florida

Simon Gervais's books