Page 23 of Blind Side (FBI Thriller 8)
Prison was a place he could shelter under the illusion that he’d taken a fall for the syndicate. He’d do his time. The syndicate wouldn’t hurt him. Tonight’s arrest would be his last grasp at freedom before he eventually moved on with his life.
Only one flaw impinged on that plan. That the syndicate would forgive Mark’s failure to take revenge on Dean, Emilia, Chip, and all of Harlow.
A sick, skittery feeling burrowed deep within his gut. Like agitated bugs crawling through his insides. The revenge piece of this puzzle perhaps wasn’t missing after all.
“You’re too late.”
Ramos pressed his foot harder to the accelerator, his nerves stripped raw from the hope he wasn’t too late for anything. But as the car climbed the hill, opaque smoke from several fires devoured the spaces in and around Harlow.
Mark hadn’t lied. Adrian was too late.
The roadblock ahead forced him to stop, the cars seeking entry into town backed up in front of him. A ragged female scream pulled at him from about six cars ahead. He rolled his window down, craning his neck for a better view.
There she stood, Laila, struggling against three officers. His heart sank at the grief written all over her face and fraught actions. He’d always thought himself a confident guy. Someone exceptionally good at what he did. But he’d fucked this up royally. Even if he’d had no idea of Mark’s plans. Even if he couldn’t be in two places at once. He’d played a role and would never forgive himself for the tragedy so quickly unfolding before him.
He launched out of his car and ran to help her, scrambling to make things right, shouting at the officers to let her go.
By now they had her pinned to her car and his shouts mingled with her wild cries. She twisted in the officer’s hold, her cheeks red and wet, and her eyes wide but swollen, as her gaze caught on his.
“Help! Help me!” Her voice tore from her on a raw scream, somehow both a demand and a plea. “They won’t let me get to Whitney!”
“Sir, step back. We have orders to stop anyone entering the valley.” An officer held his hand up, creating a barrier between Ramos and her. A barrier he refused to accept.
“Officer, the fire below is likely the work of the syndicate.” Though his warring emotions were anything but reasonable, he didn’t draw closer and kept his tone even and firm. “My name is Adrian Ramos. You can call Sheriff Marlin and verify that I am part of the investigation into the syndicate. I intend to get into that valley, and I will be taking this woman with me.”
Though the officer glared at him, not totally convinced or happy with Ramos pulling rank, all Ramos could think of was Mark’s warning. That he was too late. But even as Harlow burned, with every fiber of his being, he didn’t want to be too late. If anything happened to Whitney. All because he’d fallen into Mark’s trap.
His attention fell to Laila again, her eyes glistening, while tears streaked her face and she muttered, “She’s in there. She’s in there.”
And she was right. Whitney was in Harlow, and he didn’t have time to waste. So, he stared down the officer ahead of him, uncertain what this man would say, only that, some way, somehow, he would get past this roadblock. “I assure you, Officer. I’ll take all responsibility for what happens next.”
The officer’s expression hardened into an analytical scowl, like he didn’t want to believe Ramos or do as asked. But something in the way Ramos spoke seemed to convey the fact that he could not be stopped. That for once, following orders and taking all precautions wouldn’t apply.
The officer grumbled something under his breath and stepped back, ordering the others to do the same. Adrian jumped into Laila’s car and drove it out of the way and into an embankment. Before too long, she sat beside him in his car, and they embarked on the mad dash toward the raging fire.
Adrian’s car roared down the road and Laila’s chest heaved with a new wave of choking sobs. The air outside already thickened with smoke, mingling with the dust the car’s tires churned through the rearview mirror. Meanwhile, an eerie silence hung between them, adding to the weight of panic pressing on her chest.
Ramos also kept casting sideways glances her way. Though she appreciated him helping her get past the roadblock, she could feel him analyzing her vulnerability through every stare. She didn’t want his concern. All she wanted was to find her daughter.
Knuckles sore, she broke her tight hold on the armrest and leaned closer to the window. Deeper in the woods, plumes of curling smoke snaked through the trees, while her distorted image on the glass reflected back her tear-stained and bedraggled face.
“We’ll get to her in time.” Adrian’s voice sent cold shock through her, as did the warmth of his hand as it came to rest on hers. That touch nearly burned her skin in contrast with where her mind went.
All the things that she could have done differently.
All the things that could still go wrong.
Feeling undeserving of any comfort, she snatched her hand back. “You don’t know that for sure.”
She didn’t want any words of hollow hope.
This could get worse. This could get so, so much worse.
I could lose my daughter. Could lose Whitney.
His hand returned to the steering wheel in an act of seeming resignation, the shuttered look on his face mirroring her assessment of what went on in his head. “No, I don’t. But I promised you we'd try out darndest, remember?”
She scoffed in a broken laugh and jutted her chin to the road, new tears spilling free. “That’s my daughter down there. She dies, Ramos, then I... Failure isn’t an option.”