Page 83 of Sweet Betrayal

“Take care of him,” spat one of the men before climbing into the passenger seat.

The SUV sped off, while Tom yelled in frustration.

CHAPTER 33

“Drop the weapon!”

Tom was beyond reason. He’d had to watch, powerless, as these thugs took his Hannah away. “Make me,” he spat.

The officer’s orders were to kill him and dump his body.

But that was never going to happen. He needed to know where they were taking Hannah.

The officer’s eye’s glinted and Tom knew he was going to shoot. He ducked and rolled towards the man, taking him by surprise. The gun discharged harmlessly, while Tom tackled the shooter to the ground. He beat his hand into the concrete until he released the weapon.

Tom turned it on him. “Where are they taking her?”

The man stared at him, eyes wide. “I don’t know.” His English was passable, thank God.

“Tell me, or I’ll shoot you in the leg.” He didn’t have time to play games.

The man shook his head.

Tom pulled the trigger, shooting the man in the thigh. He made sure he missed the femoral artery, but it would still hurt like hell.

The officer screamed and clutched his bleeding leg.

“Tell me!” demanded Tom, aiming his gun at the other leg.

The man said something, but Tom couldn’t make it out. “What?”

“The warehouse.”

“Which warehouse? Where?”

The man shook his head, clutching his bleeding thigh.

“Show me.” He pulled the thug to his feet. The man yelped in agony. They limped through the diner. The manager stared at them, wide-eyed.

It wasn’t often a stranger got the better of the secret police.

“Your car,” Tom said to the manager. “Give me the keys.”

The man reached into his pocket and put a set of keys on the counter.

“Take them.” Tom dug the butt of his gun into the officer’s back. A short time later, the injured man was driving the manager’s van in the direction that the SUV had gone.

The warehouse was a good ten minutes out of town, in a semi-industrial area. There was a distinct tang of fish in the air.

“Is that it?” he asked, as the police officer pointed to a flat, sprawling building surrounded by a razor wire fence. There were several vehicles parked outside, including the black SUV.

His heart leaped.

Bingo.

He ordered the policeman to pull over and turn off the engine. They were far enough away from the warehouse so as not to draw attention to themselves. The road was deserted, the only other traffic a stationary container truck several blocks ahead.

“Get out of the car,” Tom said.

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