Page 45 of Booker's Mission

“I think you know we…” She paused, staring at Higgins for a moment before shaking her head. “Couldn’t, sir.”

“Stubborn, as usual.” He tapped the file on top of the table. “I’d like to go through everything one more time before we head back and make an official statement. Ensure I didn’t miss anything. But, as I said in San Juan, it looks pretty cut and dry. If our IT guys can clean up the phone recording — maybe retrieve some audio from those wire taps — we should be able to keep Rogers in Leavenworth for the rest of his life. Which means, I owe you an apology, Callie. You were right. There was another mole.”

She nodded, looking oddly uneasy. “I’m just glad he’ll pay for what he did. That’s all that matters.”

“Agreed.” Higgins nodded toward the hallway. “Why don’t you two get some coffee and let me go through these files one more time? I won’t be able to have it all wrapped up tonight, but I can quash any doubts that we’ve got a strong case — didn’t leave anything important back in Puerto Rico. And you can work on your report so you can enjoy a couple of days off before you decide where you’d like to go next. Assuming this is as high profile as I expect it to be, you’ll have your pick of assignments.”

“I really just want to get some sleep. Spend a day without having to look over my shoulder.”

Higgins chuckled. “Well, with any luck, you shouldn’t have any drug cartel waiting for you in the parking lot, tonight.”

“That would be a nice change.”

“One last thing.” He tapped the folder, again. “You’re sure you’ve given me everything. Neither you nor Booker are holding out on me, are you? Made copies I’m unaware of? Because we need the rest of this to be by-the-book after the way it went down.”

Booker met her gaze, wondering if she’d tell her boss he’d sent Wyatt a copy of what he’d recorded on his phone along with all the photos they’d taken. Not that Booker was trying to break protocol, but after everything Callie had been through, he wasn’t taking any chances all her evidence might be conveniently misplaced.

Calliope simply shook her head. “There wasn’t time, so, you’ve got everything, sir.”

Higgins looked at both of them, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll text you as soon as I’m done.” He snorted as they headed for the door. “You’re just lucky Keith didn’t know you’d come all the way to Montana to grab Booker, or he might have had someone cap you both outside that bar instead of waiting for you to get to Puerto Rico.”

Callie nodded, then stopped, looking up at Booker before frowning. She twisted slightly, eyes narrowed. Mouth pinched tight. “How did you know about the bar… Shit!”

Booker inhaled, grabbing Callie and shoving her through the doorway as the men beside Higgins drew their weapons — unloaded half a dozen rounds their way. They ricocheted off the frame, whizzing past them as Booker broke into a full sprint, pulling Callie with him.

She kept pace, rounding the corner then following him down the next corridor. Nearly crashing into Wyatt when the man came charging out of his computer lab. Gun drawn. Muscles primed for a fight.

He looked as if he might fire, then motioned for them to get behind him as he darted to the corner — peering out then firing a couple of cover rounds. “What the actual fuck, Booker?”

Booker shook his head, trying to catch his breath against the burning in his side. “No time for details, but Higgins is in on it, along with those assholes he brought with him. We need to disappear. Now.”

Wyatt nodded, fired a few more shots, then he was up and running. Racing down the corridor — heading for the set of stairs at the end of the hallway. They got within a few feet of it when the lights blinked out. Brightly lit hallway one moment, nothing but eerie darkness the next.

Wyatt stopped, scanning the hallway. “Well, shit. The only way to take the power and backup systems completely offline is to hit the main control panel with an EM pulse device. And Higgins is definitely in the position to acquire one.”

Wyatt motioned them to wait as he slipped through the emergency door, only to pop back out. “Half a dozen tangoes on the stairs. Run.”

Booker turned, then took off. Down one of the shorter corridors then through a set of doors. What doubled as a suite if needed. He waited until Wyatt was through then twisted the dead bolt. Not that it would hold anyone off for long with the magnetic seal no longer working, but every second counted.

Callie was already trying the windows, nodding when she reached the last one. “What’s that structure?”

Wyatt moved in beside her, half his focus still on the door. Gun at his side, but ready. “Hanger roof.”

“It’s not that far. I say we break the window then jump. Make more shit up as we go…” She looked back at him squinting before pointing at the floor. “Is that blood?”

She inhaled. “Christ, Booker, you’re hit!”

“You’re what?” Wyatt stepped toward him, but Booker waved them both off, pointing to the window.

“Shoot the damn window out. Worry about me, later. Or it won’t matter because we’ll all be dead.”

Booker grunted when Callie knocked his hands away, then lifted his shirt. “It’s not that bad. Let’s just get on with this before those assholes bust down the door. Lock’s not gonna hold them for long once they figure out where we went. And with me leaving a trail of blood down the damn hallway...”

“Not bad, my ass.” She glared at him. “Half your shirt is soaked. Shit.”

He took her hand. Smiled. “I’m fine. Been hurt worse. Ask Wyatt. He hasn’t even had to carry my ass, yet. Now, are you shooting out the window, or am I?”

“You’ll probably pass out if you tried to lift your damn arm that high. And put some pressure on that wound until we can get some help.” She stepped back — fired. The glass cracked then shattered, spilling onto the floor in a sea of tiny squares.

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