Before Steck could reply, the side doors opened. Steck instinctively pulled out his firearm and ducked. The driver reached for something behind his back. Steck had a clear shot, but he hesitated, afraid this was all a mistake and that he was reading too much into the situation. Farrell didn’t hesitate, though. She sidestepped him to the left and fired at the driver while yelling, “Police!”
The driver, hit twice above his left nipple, crumpled to the ground. Then everything happened at once. A man dressed in black combat gear and armed with what looked like an MP5 exited the van in front of Steck and opened fire on full automatic. The first bullet ripped Steck’s pistol from his hand, and then several caught him on his left side and lower abdomen. It felt like a series of sharp, stinging punches. Steck heard Farrell scream as bullets slammed into her, making her dance. More bullets slapped through the windshield of his police cruiser, right where Eiderzen was seated. Steck fell to one knee and managed to retrieve his pistol. He tried to return fire, but his hands were shaking so much he couldn’t pull the trigger. Steck looked down and noticed blood oozing out of his shirt and pants.
Christ! What have I done? I led my team right into a slaughter.
When he looked up again, the man in black had his eyes fixed on him. Is he smiling? Then the man fired.
Hector advanced, swinging his MP5 left and right and looking for additional threats he might have missed. Nothing. His side of the van was clear. The spotlight had been shattered and so had the front windshield of the first police car.
A few cars sped by, but none stopped.
“Back in the van!” Hector yelled.
“Man down!” one of his men yelled back.
Fuck! He hurried to the other side of the van, where his driver lay on his back next to the front left tire. Hector knelt next to him. He cursed all the gods he knew. The driver’s heart, at least for the few beats it had left, was pumping blood through two holes, circular and neat, where the bullets had struck him. Hector took his man’s hand in his own. He wished he could do something for him, but the man was too far gone. Hector knew he wouldn’t want pity, so he simply said, “You did well, my friend.”
A moment later, the driver’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, and Hector heard the death rattle as his man breathed out for the last time.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Hallandale Beach, Florida
While Egan called Daniel McMaster to explain the situation and to beg for his help in temporarily relocating Katherine, Hunt searched the room at the end of the hallway. It was the only room left in the basement he hadn’t gone through. What he found took his breath away.
Dear God, they recorded everything.
On a large curved desk, two computer screens linked to the video cameras inside the bedrooms displayed live feeds of the surveillance footage. Opposite the screens was a twin bed, unmade, with clothes strewn all over it. None of the clothes belonged to Leila, which was a relief. Hunt sat behind the desk and pulled the keyboard tray toward him. On it was a wireless keyboard and a wireless mouse. Maybe he could see what had happened in the bedrooms. It took a minute to figure out how the system worked, but it was pretty simple. With a click of the mouse, he rewound the digital recording until he saw Leila.
Hunt couldn’t catch a breath, his throat locking the moment he caught sight of his Leila. His heart pounded in his chest. Even though Egan had told him so, it was a relief to confirm he was only an hour or so behind the animals who had stolen his daughter from him.
Hunt remained motionless as he watched Leila fight one of her captors, a tall and muscular man four times her size. His face grew hot as he witnessed Leila being flung across the bedroom. Hunt almost threw the computer screen against the opposite wall when he recognized the brute. Hector Mieles.
How could a man do that to a fifteen-year-old girl? Tightness swelled in his chest. I’m gonna fucking kill you. Hunt couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. Unconsciously, he clenched and unclenched his fists as Hector Mieles approached his daughter, who seemed to have lost consciousness after rolling on her side a few times. Hunt stared at Mieles, a man he could and should have killed the day before, with the hypnotic fascination of a predator looking at its prey.
Suddenly Mieles jerked back, and Leila spat the piece of flesh Hunt had discovered in the bedroom. Despite everything he’d just seen, a grin pulled at his mouth.
Leila was alive and still in the fight.