Crossfire Page 17

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  EPILOGUE (#1)

  The black Suburban pulled to a stop outside the steps of Hyatt’s office building. Jericho was behind the wheel, his elbow casually resting on the edge of the door. Beside him, Collins was slouched in his seat, one foot resting up on the dash. His arm was in a sling. The bandage covering his shoulder was obscured by his jacket.

  In the back, Julie sat half-turned in her seat, so she could see Jericho and Hyatt. He was sitting next to her, nervously drumming his fingers on the briefcase resting on his lap.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” she asked Hyatt.

  He took a long, deep breath, his shoulders rising with the intake and slumping as he exhaled. After a moment, he nodded and turned to her.

  “Yes, I am. I need to carry on. Business as usual and all that. It’s over now, so the best thing I can do is put it all behind me.” He paused, narrowing his eyes. “It… is over now, isn’t it?”

  Julie smiled. “It is. And all things considered, you did pretty well, Mr. Hyatt.”

  He smiled back. “Thank you. What… ah… what’s happened to Mr. Silva’s shipment?”

  Julie glanced forward, catching Jericho’s gaze in the rearview. He nodded almost imperceptibly to her. She turned her attention back to Hyatt.

  “It’s been confiscated by GlobaTech,” she said. “There’s a unit guarding it at the port right now. We will work with the RCMP to investigate both Silva and Patricia Velasquez, as well as the foreman at the docks who was arranging for the shipment to be transported to the Caymans.”

  Hyatt sighed. “So, are you and Jericho heading back to the States now?”

  “We’re flying back later today, yes. Our boss has secured the private jet for us. Commercial planes don’t agree with my colleague.”

  In the front, Jericho sighed. “They’re too small. I hate sitting uncomfortably for so long. It makes me cranky.”

  Julie rolled her eyes at Hyatt and smiled. “See?”

  Collins twisted in his seat. “Hey, hey, cut the man a little slack, would ya? I mean, look at the size of him! They should have special seats or something. Hardly fair, if ya ask me.”

  Jericho nodded. “You’re right. Thanks, man.”

  They bumped fists.

  Julie groaned. “Oh, for the love of… you two are as bad as each other.” She looked at Hyatt. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your office.”

  He looked surprised. “Oh, I thought your job was finished now? You don’t have to—”

  “No, it’s fine. I want to. Just a couple of loose ends to tie up before we head back.” She leaned forward and patted Jericho’s shoulder. “I’ll be five minutes.”

  “Take your time,” he said, smiling.

  Hyatt and Julie got out of the car and headed for the office.

  “What’s she doing?” asked Collins, gesturing with his head to the pair of them as they climbed the steps. “And why are ya smiling?”

  Jericho glanced at him, still grinning. “I’ve a pretty good idea what her loose ends are.”

  After passing through the security checkpoint in the lobby, Hyatt and Julie had called the elevator and were riding it up to the fourteenth floor.

  Hyatt shifted his weight back and forth and constantly ran a hand over his beard and hair, appearing restless.

  “Is everything okay?” asked Julie.

  He nodded. “Yes…” He shook his head. “No. No, it isn’t. With that Velasquez woman in custody, I’m worried my name will be mentioned and then my career will be over. I trusted Darius, but her…”

  Julie held up her hand. “Mr. Hyatt, relax. Take a breath. You’ll be fine. Velasquez won’t say or do anything for two reasons. One, anything she admits to knowing about what was happening at the port immediately incriminates her, which she’ll want to avoid. And two, if she even looks at Montreal on a map, she fully understands what I’ll do to her. Now just remember, if anyone asks where you’ve been, say you had a family emergency. Okay?”

  Hyatt let slip a small smile. “Yes. Thank you.” He sighed again. “Then there’s the matter of my secretary. Velasquez said she was paying Sophie to spy on me. I have to fire her, but I need a valid reason. Otherwise, I’ll have Human Resources and lawyers and God knows who else crawling up my ass. Except I can’t cite the real reason because the company doesn’t know about my other portfolio of clients, so again…”

  Julie placed a hand on his arm, hoping it would offer some comfort.

  “Well, maybe I can help with that situation too.”

  The elevator pinged as the doors slid open. They stepped out into the reception area side by side and headed left, along the corridor toward Hyatt’s office. His secretary’s desk was on the right-hand side, not quite facing the elevators.

  Sophie spotted them as they exited the lift and quickly buried her head in her keyboard. Julie noticed and smiled to herself.

  Nowhere to hide now, bitch.

  As they drew level with the desk, Julie took a small step toward it, away from Hyatt. In a lightning-fast movement, she grabbed a hold of the monitor and ripped it away from the desk, tossing it away to her right. Sophie bolted upright in her seat, her eyes and mouth wide open in shock. Hyatt jumped with fright at the sudden noise, dropping his briefcase.

  Without pausing, Julie leaned over and grabbed Sophie by her hair, then slammed her face into the desk. She lifted her up again and twisted her grip, forcing Sophie to look up and turn her head to alleviate some of the pressure.

  Julie stared at her. She wasn’t angry. She wasn’t disappointed. She wasn’t… anything. She felt nothing for the woman sitting before her. She examined Sophie’s face. Her eyes were half-open and glazed. Her nose was busted open and bleeding. Her mouth hung loose, gasping for air.

  “We both know why I did that,” said Julie. “So, let’s dispense with the formalities. In the next ten minutes, you will personally hand Mr. Hyatt a letter of resignation, which will include a sincere and detailed apology for your part in what’s happened over the last seventy-two hours. Then you’ll take your broken face and your wannabe beach bunny ass and walk out of here without looking back. Are we clear?”

  Sophie nodded as much as she could under the circumstances.

  Julie smiled. “Good.”

  She let go of her hair, and Sophie fell forward, slumping over her keyboard.

  Julie turned to Hyatt. “You take care of yourself, okay? The second I get back to California, I will personally arrange a flight for your daughter to come out to you, escorted by someone I handpick for the assignment.”

  Hyatt stared in shock at his now-former secretary for a moment, unable to speak. Finally, he swallowed hard and turned to Julie, nodding.

  “Th-thank you,” he said. “Thank you!”

  Julie smiled and walked back to the elevator. Two minutes later, she slid into the Suburban behind Jericho.

  He glanced over his shoulder as he started the engine. “Are we done?”

  She took a long, refreshing breath and leaned back in her seat. “We’re done. Let’s go home, boys. Drinks are on you two.”

  Jericho and Collins exchanged a quick glance, then all three began laughing as they eased out into the morning traffic, heading for their ride home.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for downloading my book. I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did, it would mean a lot to me if you could spare thirty seconds to leave an honest review on the site/store you bought it from. For independent authors like me, one review makes the world of difference!

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  Until next time…

  James P. Sumner

>   ALSO BY THE SAME AUTHOR

  You can visit my website to find out more about my other books, including the overall chronology of the novels, as well as links to download them.

  THE ADRIAN HELL SERIES

  (listed chronologically by storyline)

  A Hero of War – A Novella

  True Conviction

  Hunter’s Games

  One Last Bullet

  Deadly Intent

  A Necessary Kill

  Good Intentions

  Thicker Than Blood

  THE GLOBATECH SERIES

  D.E.A.D. Till I Die – A Prequel

  Crossfire

  EPILOGUE (#2)

  The only sound was of the ocean’s lazy tide lapping against the sides of the dock. A large cargo ship stood alone and still and deserted, its huge shape casting many shadows that stretched out across the port.

  Moonlight shone through the window of the foreman’s office, illuminating the dead bodies with its eerie, pale glow. There were six in total, all stacked neatly in one corner. The GlobaTech logos had been ripped from their clothes. Each one had a matching bullet hole in the center of the forehead.

  Four men moved quickly and efficiently in a tight, diamond formation, their fingers hovering over the triggers of their submachine guns. They were dressed in black from head to toe, their faces obscured by half-masks painted with skulls. Their steps were light. They moved like ghosts, silent and deadly, despite knowing with complete certainty there was no one around to spot them.

  They navigated the maze-like layout of the storage yard, taking the rehearsed route of lefts and rights until they reached their destination.

  Container PHDS16CI.

  The man at the front of the diamond held up a fist, signaling for his team to stop and hold steady. He glanced over his shoulder.

  “This is it,” he said. “Let’s move. Sixty seconds.”

  One of the men behind him stepped forward and produced a key taken from the foreman’s office. He removed the padlock and lifted the bolts, then stepped aside as he pulled open the large container doors. The remaining two men moved in, stepping around three large, black, sports bags placed neatly in the middle of the huge space. The man from the front stepped inside and crouched next to one of the bags. He unzipped it and pulled it open. Inside, stored in neat, even piles, were blocks of hundred-dollar bills. He quickly closed it again and stepped outside, nodding to the man with the keys.

  “Let’s go. Thirty seconds.”

  The man nodded back, stepped inside, and picked up one of the bags. The other two men did the same.

  “Twenty seconds,” said the man in front. “Time to go.”

  Back in formation, they ran back through the maze of containers and across the dockyard, toward a black van waiting near the gates covering the entrance.

  The bags were placed carefully in the back and then all four men climbed inside. The engine started up, and the van drove through the open gates, passing the two dead security guards in the hut to the side of them before disappearing into the light traffic of the evening.

  The man from the front took out a cell phone and dialed a number from memory. When it was answered, he simply said, “We have the package.”

  Without waiting for a response, he terminated the call and tossed the phone out of the window. They turned onto the freeway, accelerating away from the ocean, disappearing into the night like ghosts.

  Jericho Stone, Julie Fisher, and Ray Collins will return.