Then angry shouts in English, then Russian. Someone lifted her onto the bed next to Darla, who gathered her into her arms.

“Leave her alone,” Darla shouted. “That bastard was choking me.” “Let it go,” Sandy mumbled, still dizzy and sick. “Don’t fight them.”

Darla pressed her face to the top of Sandy’s head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You told me not to go anywhere with anyone. But he said to come with him and I—”

“S’okay. S’okay.”

“We go now,” one of the Russians who had brought them said impatiently. He grabbed them by their arms and yanked them up.

“Now.”

Sandy’s right arm was numb, but her shoulder was in agony, and when he jerked her up, her knees gave way. “Wait. Just a minute.

Please.”

“No,” he said fiercely and dragged her down the hall toward the door.

• 214 •

Justice for All

Her vision swam and she was only dimly aware of the elevator, the bright lights of the lobby, the cold night air. “Darla?”

“I’m here, honey,” Darla whispered.

Baby, Sandy thought as the doors to the Navigator opened and the big man pushed her inside. Dell, baby, I’m so sorry.

• 215 •

• 216 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER TwENTy-ONE

Sloan swirled the melting ice cubes absently in her glass, then swallowed the rest of the vodka while keying in a new diagnostic with one hand. She was close. Very close. There was a ghost in her machine, and she intended to find it and follow it.

“You’re not quite as good as you think, are you,” she murmured.

She thought of the men she’d seen earlier that night with Kratos Zamora. Somehow, none of them struck her as likely candidates to be her hacker, but appearances really meant nothing. Still, they all looked like handlers or enforcers. Maybe Gregor, the brother, was more than just a figurehead. Maybe he was the brains after all.

While the program ran, she wandered back to the small kitchen to replenish her drink. It was almost dawn. She’d told Michael she wouldn’t be long. That was hours ago, and Michael would be asleep, which was what she really needed, not Sloan’s restless anger. Sloan poured an inch into her glass, not bothering with ice, and leaned against the counter as she sipped it. Her nervous system twanged as if a continuous current ran through it, keeping her edgy. The vodka stirred a fire in the pit of her stomach and with her ass pressed into the counter, she thought of Michael kneeling in front of her in the bathroom earlier, taking her into her mouth, soothing her even as she burned away her unrest.

She sighed and put her glass in the sink. When she returned to her desk, code scrolled rapidly down her screen. It might be a while.

She clasped her hands between her knees and fought not to think about the images of Michael and Zamora that had covered her screen earlier.

Mocking her. With an oath, she shot upright and her chair spun away.

She covered the distance to the stairs in a few rapid strides and

• 217 •

RADclY fFe

was in the loft seconds later. She only slowed as she reached the corridor leading to their bedroom. She did not want to frighten Michael.

She undressed in the semidarkness and slid into bed, nude. Carefully, she pressed against Michael’s back, sliding her arm around Michael’s waist.

Michael murmured and rolled over, drawing Sloan’s hand to her breast. “Sloan?”

“It’s me, baby.”

“Is it late?”

“Yes.” Sloan kissed Michael’s forehead. Her skin was smooth, warm, her breasts soft against Sloan’s chest. She rubbed her hand up and down Michael’s back, feeling calmed by the caress.

“Are you all right?” Michael asked.

“I just needed to be with you.”

Michael ran her fingers through Sloan’s hair. “Do you need to make love?”

“No.” Sloan pillowed her head on Michael’s breast, realizing that the beat of Michael’s heart, the scent of her skin, the touch of her hand was enough. For now, in this moment, she had everything she needed.

“I just need this.”

“Go to sleep, darling. Can you do that for me?” Michael murmured.

“Yes.”

“And will you be here when I wake up, so I can have you? I need you.”

“I’ll be here.”

v

Watts pulled open the passenger door and slid into the front seat.

Puffing slightly, he snapped, “Head down to the corner and turn right.

They’re moving and we’ve got trouble.”

“Got it.” Rebecca started the sedan and took off in the direction Watts indicated.

Dell rocketed forward from the backseat. “What’s going on?”

“Three guys just came out a side entrance—right around the corner in that narrow service alley we passed—with Sandy and the black girl.

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Darla.” Watts glanced over his shoulder. “One guy was holding Sandy up. She wasn’t walking any too steady. Drunk maybe. Or high.”

“No,” Dell said instantly. “She wouldn’t be. She doesn’t use, and even if she has to take a hit of something to keep her cover, she’s careful to keep her head on straight.”

“There.” Watts pointed through the windshield. “Four cars up.

The Navigator.”

“I see it,” Rebecca said calmly. “What’s your read, Watts?”

“I couldn’t tell for sure, but if Sandy’s not high, she’s hurt.”

“Fuck,” Dell exclaimed. “Fuck! We have to get her out of there.”

Rebecca dropped back when one of the cars in front of them turned off, leaving them too close to the Navigator. Without another backup car to work with them, they couldn’t leapfrog, making it more likely the driver of the SUV would pick up on their presence. She had to think looking for a tail would be SOP for those guys. “They’re heading for 95.”

“There’s a two-block stretch that’s pretty deserted right before the on-ramp,” Watts commented casually. “We could probably take them there. They’re sure to have firepower. If they use it, it could turn into a clusterfuck to end all clusterfucks.”

Rebecca glanced back at Dell, then at the road. “Detective, you make the call.”

Detective, you make the call. Just like that, everything inside Dell went still. Sandy was in the SUV ahead of them. Maybe seriously hurt.

An innocent civilian was with her. And her partners, her fellow cops, were in this car waiting for her to decide what they would all do next, putting their lives in her hands. What was happening was bigger than her fear, bigger than her anger. If she traded Sandy for any one of the others—the lieutenant, Watts, Sandy’s friend—Sandy would never forgive her, and she would have failed in her duty. She’d been trained to lead soldiers in battle. To make the necessary sacrifices. And to never, ever, leave one of her own behind. She had never feared for her own life, and she had been honored to be responsible for the lives of her fellow soldiers.

“Here’s the plan,” Dell said, her voice steady and strong.

v

• 219 •

RADclY fFe

Sandy bit her lip to keep from crying out every time the heavy vehicle hit a rough spot in the road. Her chest hurt and she couldn’t take a deep breath without causing a sharp pain to shoot down her side. She leaned against Darla, who steadied her with an arm around her waist.

The Russian next to her grunted what sounded like a curse as a flashing red light shot through the back window. Sandy pushed herself upright, despite the pain. The man sitting next to the driver turned around, the craggy black and red shadows shifting across his face making him look like Hellboy. Only not as hot.

“You do not talk,” he said.

The man next to Sandy drew an automatic from under his jacket and placed it on the seat between his leg and Sandy’s, his hand on the grip, his finger on the trigger. She glimpsed movement in the front seat and realized both men had their weapons out. The road was almost deserted, with only an occasional vehicle passing. The night was dark.

Perfect spot for an ambush. Oh my God, Dell, Sandy thought. Don’t be a hero. Please, baby.

“We won’t be starting any conversations,” Sandy snorted. “We don’t want nothing to do with the fucking cops.” Even though every movement felt as if her chest were tearing apart, she shifted closer to the man beside her, ignoring the gun on the seat, and leaned her head against his upper arm. “I’m just sitting back here with my man and my girlfriend. Fuck them if they don’t like it.”

“Good,” the man in the front said, facing forward again as the strobing red light was replaced by a harsh white glare from the cruiser’s spotlight.

Sandy tensed as the driver rolled down his window. God, please don’t let them shoot anyone. Please.

“Good evening, sir,” Sandy heard a man say. Not Dell. Not Dell. It didn’t sound like Watts, either. “You appear to have a short in your right rear taillight. It keeps blinking on and off.”

“I will repair it right away,” the driver said.

“Are you sure your electrical system is okay?”

Sandy saw a shadow cross the driver’s face as the officer outside the vehicle leaned down and looked in the window.

“Looks like you’ve got a full house here,” the state police officer said. “You don’t want to break down out here this time of night. The next service station is a good twenty miles away.” He nodded at Sandy.

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Justice for All

“I don’t imagine the young ladies would enjoy sitting out here in the cold for a few hours.”

“Everything looks fine,” the driver said, his tone friendly. He gestured to the dashboard. “No warning lights. It must be a loose connection. I will have it repaired immediately.”

“All right then. I’ll follow you for a few miles to make sure there’s no problem.” He touched the brim of his hat. “Ladies.”