Fatal Frost Read online

“He died a hero. You’re living as a coward.”

  Angel strode up to Mercy and raised his hand, his face tight with anger. Tally struggled to get up so he could protect her. However, instead of striking her, Angel slowly dropped his arm. “You said you wanted to check on Tally,” he said, his voice low. “You’ve done that. Now I need you to go back to the living room before my uncle comes looking for us.”

  He pointed to a kid sitting in a nearby chair. Tally hadn’t noticed him before. Dressed in typical gang clothes, the kid held a gun that was pointed right at him. Under normal circumstances, Tally could easily take him out, but at the moment he felt defenseless. He needed to get his strength back, and he didn’t have a lot of time to do it.

  Angel pointed his gun at Mercy. She leaned over and kissed Tally lightly on the cheek before turning and leaving the room. Now it was just Tally and the kid.

  “I want to get dressed,” Tally told him. He pointed to his suitcase sitting on the dresser. “Please. I won’t try anything.”

  The boy nodded. “Just don’t make any fast moves. I’ll have to shoot you.”

  Tally could see the trepidation in his eyes. Vargas had probably threatened to kill him if he allowed Tally to escape. Fear was a great motivator, but it was also very dangerous. Reason flew out the window in its presence. Tally would have to be extra careful.

  He rose slowly from the bed, gripping the edge of the nightstand to maintain his balance. Once he felt in control, he walked over to the suitcase and flipped it open. After removing clean underwear, jeans, socks, and a shirt, he quickly changed clothes. Almost immediately he felt more like his old self. He’d checked his suitcase for something he could use as a weapon, but there wasn’t anything there that could help him. He thought about pocketing his razor or toothbrush, except such things were useless against guns. He pulled out a pair of sneakers he’d tucked into the suitcase’s side pocket and sat down on the bed. As he tied the laces, he assessed his situation. He had to get close enough to the kid to overpower him and take his gun. But how? The first thing was to get the boy to trust him. When he finished with his shoes, he leaned back against the headboard and studied the young man. Vargas must not have considered Tally to be dangerous if he put this kid in charge of watching him.

  “How many men does Vargas have?” he asked. “He can’t have much help if he put you in here with me.”

  “Mark shot one of his guys. Now there are just seven of them including me.”

  “How many other gangbangers like you?”

  “One. The guy Mark shot was Deeray. He was in the Rollin’ 60s.”

  Tally was surprised the kid was so forthcoming with him. And something else. He’d called Mark by his name. What was up with that?

  “You know he won’t keep you and your friend around, right? Once he gets his hands on the flash drive, you’re both dead.”

  “No. He knows my father—he won’t let anything happen to me.”

  “Who’s your father?”

  The kid shook his head. “I can’t tell you.”

  Tally shrugged. Probably some dope dealer the cartel dealt with. “Vargas isn’t too good about keeping promises. He promised to protect Darius Johnson, and he’s dead.”

  “Darius was stupid.”

  “You’re right. Because he trusted Vargas.”

  “There’s nothing I can do.” The kid gulped and lowered his voice. “I tried to help Mark, but Vargas got him anyway.”

  Tally struggled to keep the surprise from his expression. What was he talking about? “How did you try to help Mark?”

  The kid’s lips thinned as if he regretted what he’d just said.

  “Look . . . What’s your name?”

  “Troy. Troy Thomas.”

  Interesting. No gang moniker. The kid gave his real name.

  “Okay, Troy. Tell me how you tried to help Mark.” Tally’s patience was wearing thin, but he worked to keep his voice steady. He needed to gain Troy’s confidence, and time was running out.

  Troy glanced toward the door. He got up and opened it a few inches, peering through the crack to make sure it was safe to talk.

  Tally could hardly believe his good fortune. A gang member who wanted to help the cops? Except for drug-addicted CIs who needed a break to stay out of jail, this was a first.

  “I told him there was someone in his office who’s hooked up with Vargas.”

  “And who is that?”

  “I can’t tell you,” he said again.

  “You realize our lives are at stake, right?”

  Troy stared at him for several seconds. Tally stared back at him until finally Troy looked away. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “I think you do. I can only see one chance here. If you give me the gun, I promise to keep you safe.”

  To Tally’s surprise, tears slipped down Troy’s face.

  “Hey,” Tally said, “I see you’re not a punk. Let me help you.”

  “I . . . I don’t want to die. And I don’t want my father to die.”

  “Why would your father die? Does he work for Vargas?”

  Troy shook his head. “No. Vargas makes him do things . . . because of me.”

  Tally frowned at the kid. “I’m sorry, Troy. I don’t understand.”

  Troy wiped the tears from his face with his free hand, the one not holding the gun. “He uses people. Threatens their families. It’s not right.”

  “So Vargas has threatened your dad?”

  Troy nodded.

  Tally took a deep breath. “Troy, the only way I can help you and your dad is if you give me that gun. My friends and I can take control of this situation so we can all get out of here. There’s no other way. Unless we do that, we’re all going to die. I’m sure of it.”

  “Will you keep my dad safe too?”

  Tally nodded. “Sure. I’ll do my best. What’s his name?”

  “You might know him,” Troy said softly.

  “Really?”

  “He’s a deputy U.S. Marshal. His name is Al Thomas.”

  Even though Tally had prepared himself to stay calm, he was left shocked. Al Thomas? He didn’t know him personally, but he certainly knew who he was. So this was the mole? He had to let Mark and Mercy know as soon as possible. If Batterson had sent people on a rescue mission, Al would know about it. He was one of Batterson’s top agents.

  Troy’s expression mirrored the panic he obviously felt. “My dad did everything he could to keep me safe, but I got involved in a gang anyway. Darius made me feel ashamed of my father. Said he hurt people for no reason. I know now he was lying. Vargas wanted my father to do stuff for him. He told my father I’d get hurt unless he did everything he told him.” Troy shook his head slowly. “I don’t want something to happen to me or my dad before I tell him I’m sorry. I’m not ashamed of him. I’m proud of my dad, and I want him to know I love him. I just want another chance. For both of us.”

  Tally was moved by Troy’s words. He could see his own son’s fear in the boy’s eyes, and he hated it. Hated that Josh worried every time he left the house, worried that he might not come back. Being in law enforcement wasn’t a solo gig. Everyone who loved you was involved—even if they didn’t want to be.

  “I know who your dad is, Troy, and I’ll do everything in my power to help him. Now you’ve got to give me the gun, okay? We’re running out of time.”

  “He isn’t going to be giving you no gun.”

  Tally looked over at the door. One of Vargas’s men stood there, holding a weapon. Before Tally could respond, Troy pointed his gun at the man and fired.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Two

  When they heard the shot, Mercy reacted first, leaping up from the love seat and slamming her body into one of Vargas’s henchmen. Mark dropped and rolled on the floor, grasping for the gun that flew out of the man’s hand. As soon as he had it, he flipped over on his back. Vargas’s thug charged him. Mark fired, and the guy fell like a sack of potatoes. Then Mark jumped to his feet and trained his g
un on Vargas.

  “Drop it, Mark!” Angel yelled. Angel’s gun was aimed at Mark’s head.

  “You know I can’t do that,” Mark said. “But if you put your gun down, I won’t kill your uncle. It’s your choice.”

  Angel swung his gun around until it was pointed at Mercy. “If you put your gun down, I won’t shoot Mercy.”

  Mark checked out the one remaining thug Vargas had—and Ace. Neither one of them was armed. Mark had tossed out most of their weapons, so they were limited. But Mercy’s gun lay on the coffee table, only a couple of feet away from Vargas’s enforcer. If he moved quickly enough . . .

  “Put the gun down, Angel.”

  Mark looked to his left, relieved to see Tally, his weapon pointed at the younger Vargas.

  “I’ll only ask once.”

  Angel slowly lowered his weapon.

  “Hand it to Mercy.”

  Mercy went over to where Angel stood. She took the gun from his hand and then pointed it at his face. “You would have shot me?” she asked quietly.

  Angel didn’t answer, just looked away from her.

  “All of you on the couch,” Mark said. “I want you where I can keep an eye on you.”

  Ace and the remaining Vargas thug they’d called Manuel joined Angel and Elias on the couch.

  Mercy ran over to Tally and hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  Tally hugged her back, still keeping his gun aimed at Vargas. “How are you doing?” he asked her.

  “A little better now, but I don’t trust myself completely. You and Mark need to keep an eye on me. I still drift in and out.”

  “Who was shot?” Mark asked. “Is Troy all right?”

  Tally shrugged. “He’s alive, but he shot one of Vargas’s men. Pretty tough thing for a kid to handle. I moved the body to another room and told Troy to stay in the bedroom for now. Until we’re sure it’s safe for him to come out.”

  “Good.” Mark couldn’t believe Troy had shot someone, but he couldn’t deal with that now. He had to focus on the immediate threat.

  “Mark, we need to talk,” Tally said, his tone low and serious.

  Mark nodded. “Mercy, can you hold them for just a minute?”

  “Yeah. Just don’t take too long.”

  “Don’t worry,” Mark said. “I’ll stay where I can see you.”

  He and Tally walked a few feet away. Not far enough to lose sight of their enemies, but far enough that they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “I know who the mole is,” Tally said softly when Mark indicated it was okay to speak.

  “I do too. I talked to Batterson earlier. They’re on their way here.”

  “How will they reach us?”

  “I have no idea,” Mark said, “but Batterson will figure it out. We just need to control these guys until he finds us.”

  “Where’s the flash drive?”

  Mark shook his head. “I honestly don’t know. And I don’t want to know. Mercy hid it somewhere. Better if we don’t have information Vargas and his men want.”

  Tally sighed deeply. Mark could tell he was relieved. So long as they held off Vargas and his thugs, they would make it out of this alive.

  “I never would have suspected Carol as the mole,” Mark said.

  Tally’s expression changed. “Carol? Carol Marchand? You think she’s the mole?”

  “Yes. That came from Batterson himself. We got through to him on the landline and called for help.”

  Tally frowned at him. “That kid, Troy? He said he tried to help you.”

  “That’s right. He got caught up in this, but I think he’s a good kid. I’m hoping we can do something to help him and his dad.”

  Tally was silent for a moment. Finally he said, “Mark, do you know who Troy’s dad is?”

  “No. Who?”

  “Troy is Al Thomas’s son. His father has been working for Vargas. Under duress, but we can’t trust him.”

  Mark couldn’t believe his ears. He knew Al Thomas. A good man. A good Marshal. How could he be involved with Vargas? As soon as he asked himself the question, he knew the answer. The same way men like Vargas accomplished anything—through intimidation. He probably threatened him. Threatened Troy. Mark doubted money would have swayed Al, though Batterson had alluded to it being the reason for Carol’s betrayal. Mark still had a hard time believing Carol had turned her back on Batterson. Now he had to face the fact that Vargas had turned a good Marshal. The knowledge made him feel sick to his stomach.

  “We’ve got to let Batterson know. He might be bringing Al with him.” Mark pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and checked it again. Still no signal.

  “You said the landline is working?”

  Mark nodded. “I’ll try Batterson’s cell again. If I can’t get ahold of him, I’m not sure what to do next.”

  “Listen, Mark, just because Al can’t be trusted doesn’t mean the rest of the people who work in your office are traitors.”

  “I know that, but so far two of them have completely fooled me. I would have bet my life on Carol or Al. At this moment I’m not sure who I can count on.”

  “Then let me call my chief. He can get word to Batterson. He’s smart, and he’ll do it right.”

  Mark considered this. The St. Louis police chief was a man well-respected by those in law enforcement. If anyone could handle this situation besides Batterson, it was Chief Kennedy.

  “Sounds like a good idea. Go ahead and call him.”

  Mark and Tally walked back over to where Vargas and his men waited. Mark sat down next to Mercy. “How are you feeling now?” he asked her.

  “Better. Still tired and a little fuzzy, but I’ll make it. Sorry I let you down earlier.”

  “Forget it. The important thing is that we’re in control now and we have the guns. If we can just hold out long enough, we have a chance of going home alive.”

  “Mark.”

  Mark turned to see Tally standing at the edge of the kitchen. His expression made it clear something was wrong.

  “What is it?” Mark asked.

  “The phone. Looks like no one will be calling anyone on it.”

  Still keeping his gun pointed at the men, Mark hurried over to check the phone. It lay in pieces on the kitchen counter. He walked into the living room and glared at Elias. “What did you do?”

  Elias shrugged and tossed Mark a self-righteous grin. “I contacted my people—who know where we are, by the way—and asked them to pull us out of here before your friends arrive. I’m sorry to tell you that you and your team will not be left alive. The phone was insurance against a situation . . . just like this one. You are certainly not the last honest law-enforcement officer in the world, but after today the number will decrease.”

  “I thought you wanted that flash drive.”

  “I know the flash drive is here somewhere,” Elias said. “Even if Mercy Brennan dies, we will still find it.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “That is not my problem. Your deaths are now more important to me than that video.”

  Mark was almost certain Vargas was lying, yet it was clear he intended to kill all of them. Whether it was right away or after he tortured them for information was the only question remaining. Their only hope was that Batterson would find and rescue them in time.

  Mark turned to catch Tally’s eye. His expression was grim. It was now a race. Who would get here first? Who would be left standing at the end of the day?

  Batterson’s frustration level rose with each sweep of the area. Where was his team?

  “What do you want to do?” Sergeant Davis Bullock turned his head to stare at Batterson.

  Not wanting to yell over the noise of the engine and the blades overhead, Batterson made a circular motion with his hand, meaning go around again.

  While the sergeant didn’t argue, Batterson could tell he was ready to quit. They’d flown over the same area four times and hadn’t found anything that looked like the property Mark had described. H
e’d tried to call Mark back, but the phone number he had wasn’t working. Neither was Mark’s cellphone. In fact, he couldn’t get through to anyone. A check with their phone carrier revealed that the ice storm had knocked out all the cell towers in the area. It would be a day or two at least before they were up and running again.

  Out of irritation Batterson leaned forward and tapped the sergeant on the shoulder. “Add another mile to the search area. We’ve got to find them.”

  The sergeant nodded as he moved the cyclic stick, causing the helicopter to head out of the pattern they’d been in.

  As Batterson and his team searched the land below, Bullock’s partner manned the searchlight. They’d only been looking about fifteen minutes when Shauna yelled out. Batterson looked to find her pointing at something on the other side of the helicopter. Batterson tapped Bullock once again and gestured to the spot Shauna indicated. Bullock banked the helicopter and circled the area. The searchlight picked up a large house with a barn. The helicopter dropped lower, and Batterson spotted two all-terrain vehicles parked outside the house. This had to be the right place. He was getting ready to tell Bullock to find somewhere to land when the sergeant pointed at something to their right.

  Batterson noticed another helicopter headed their way. Before he could tell Bullock to start evasive maneuvers, something struck the outside of their helicopter. They swayed violently in the air. Another blast punctured the window next to Bullock, and they began spinning wildly in a circle. Batterson could see that Bullock had been hit.

  As the helicopter nose-dived toward the ground, Richard Batterson prayed for the second time that day.

  Chapter

  Thirty-Three

  Mercy saw the flash of light outside before the loud blast that followed it. She grabbed her gun and ran to the front door.

  “Keep your eye on them,” she called to Mark and Tally. If Vargas and his people believed they were on the verge of rescue, it might give them the confidence to try something foolhardy and dangerous. At that moment, Mercy didn’t trust herself or her reflexes.

  She turned off the front porch light and stepped outside. In the distance she could see two helicopters. One was obviously in trouble. It turned in circles, getting closer and closer to the ground. It rose then, and the two copters seemed to confront each other. As they moved past the tree line across the road, Mercy could barely make them out. She heard another explosion, and one of the copters swung back and forth in a crazy arc before disappearing from sight. As she peered into the blackness, all of a sudden the ground shook and a huge ball of fire lit up the sky. It was obvious one of the copters had crashed.