The headquarters was a ghost town, with only a few officers roaming the back desks. Cooper banged on the empty reception desk counter to grab their attention. “Hey!”

  The first officer who looked at her went back to the papers on his desk, sifting through them slowly, with no inclination to speed up the process. Cooper banged on the counter again, this time rattling the blank computer screens and causing a pen to roll to the floor. “Hey! I need to speak to whoever’s in charge here, now.”

  “Are you hurt?” the officer asked.

  Cooper scrunched her face in bewilderment. “What? No, I’m not hurt.”

  “Then whatever you want is not an emergency.” The officer went back to his shuffling of papers, and just when Cooper reached for the handle of her pistol tucked under the back of her shirt, another one of the officers came around the corner.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “We’re all a little burnt out.” Dark circles dragged his eyes down, and the stubble across his face made him look older than his hairline suggested. The officer’s uniform was stained around the collar. Cooper couldn’t tell if it was food, sweat, or something more unsettling.

  “I need to make a call,” Cooper said, taking her hand off her pistol. “Do you have any communication lines still open here?”

  The officer nodded. “It was down for a few hours yesterday, but we’ve been able to keep the emergency lines open. But with most of the cell towers still down, we haven’t received many calls. Most of our guys are out on patrol with the rest of the police force downtown. Not much action on the outskirts of the city.”

  Cooper nodded her head passively as she dialed the number, trying to make it look like she was listening. A sudden burst of hope went through her when the line rang. She just hoped that Diaz would pick up.

  “Agent Diaz.”

  Thank God. “It’s Cooper.”

  “Cooper? Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you? Moringer’s been going ballistic since the mission botched. They’ve got Dylan Turk all over the news. Where the hell have you been?”

  “It’s a long story, but since we’re talking about the Dylan, have you heard anything from him yet?”

  “No, it’s been radio silence, but there isn’t a federal employee within the FBI, CIA, or Homeland who isn’t looking for him.”

  “Well, wherever he is, you can bet Perry is doing whatever he can to look for him. Listen, I went over to the ex-wife’s place, where I was ambushed by a cluster of terrorists who managed to kidnap her. My guess is, Perry thinks he can still get the upper hand with Dylan since he now has two members of his family instead of one.”

  “What about the husband and the daughter? Were they there as well?”

  “No, she said the husband took the girl to some cabin in upstate New York. They should be safe and out of reach. Listen, what’s happening with our homeless guy? Have we got him in front of a judge yet?”

  “It hasn’t exactly been easy trying to get a hearing, but we have an appointment tomorrow. The Massachusetts Attorney General will be there too, but what they’ll decide to do is anybody’s guess.”

  Cooper knew Perry would have backups to backups. The only way to surprise him was to get to Dylan before he could. “Listen, tell Moringer that we need to make a deal with the feds and the CIA to get Dylan an offer to make sure that he doesn’t end up in jail.”

  “Well, we’ll have to make it quick,” Diaz replied. “Moringer just told me he got a tip from the FBI that a deal is happening today.”

  “What? Where?”

  “No street name, just coordinates. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up. We’ll go together.”

  Cooper checked the clock on the wall. “You just keep our witness safe and see what Moringer can do about setting up a deal for Dylan. I have a feeling that Dylan really will give up those chips in exchange for his boy. Will DEA have a presence at the exchange?”

  “No, it’s strictly the feds. They’re keeping it small, close knit, and the DEA is on the shit list right now after what happened with the computer chips. The only reason Moringer knew about it was so we have better lines of communication, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

  “Will do.” Once Cooper jotted down the coordinates of the meet, Cooper hung up the phone and then handed it back to the officer. “Do you have a working computer here?”

  “Yeah, it’s running off the emergency networks.” He walked her around to one of the workstations, and Cooper brought up the GPS system used for dispatchers. The location was only a few miles away. It wouldn’t take her longer than half an hour if she could manage a light jog.

  Cooper shook the officer’s hand. “Thanks for your help. I appreciate it.”

  “Hey, wait.” The officer stepped forward awkwardly. “You need a ride somewhere?”

  Cooper turned around at the door with one foot already outside. “Trust me. This isn’t somewhere you’ll want to be.” She broke out into a light jog as her veins pulsed with a sudden burst of adrenaline and energy. Cooper hurried through the streets as fast as her body would take her. She kept to the main roads now that the sun was higher and to make sure she didn’t get lost.

  The heat from the asphalt cooked her feet and legs, and it wasn’t long before the burst of adrenaline had run its course, and Cooper was left with nothing more than the sheer will of her constitution to make it the rest of the way.

  When Cooper finally arrived, her muscles ached, and she unholstered her pistol, searching the area for signs of anyone already there. She slowed her breaths to a more manageable rate. The area was nothing more than abandoned buildings, long ago shut down and boarded up before any of the attacks happened. Only the remnants of what businesses used to be here remained in the forms of rusted signs, broken windows, and fading paint.

  “Cooper?”

  When she turned around and saw Diaz, she couldn’t help but smile. She holstered her gun and jogged over to him. “Damn, it’s good to see you.” She wrapped him in a hug and squeezed tight. “What are you doing here?”

  Diaz pushed her back and took a moment to look her over. “Are you all right? Did you bring any backup with you?”

  “I’m fine, and, no, I didn’t. Where the hell is everyone? You sure this is the place?” Cooper turned and walked around, looking for the best vantage point to view the exchange. “Have you had a chance to scope the place out yet? From here it looks li—”

  Cooper turned back around, and Diaz had his gun out and aimed at her skull and had a phone to his ear. “She’s here. No, she didn’t tell anyone. Understood.” Diaz hung up the phone then pocketed it.

  Cooper felt the cold rush of betrayal form in her stomach then spread like a virus, slowly shutting down the rest of her body. “Whatever you think you’re doing, don’t.”

  “Sorry, partner,” Diaz said, taking a few steps closer. “You should have just stayed out of it. I thought that when Moringer suspended you for the first time, you would have lain low, but you just kept pushing. You dug your own grave on this one.”

  Cooper took a step back, her peripherals scanning for anything she could use or anywhere she could run. “What happened to the witness?”

  “Oh, he’s here,” Diaz answered. “Unfortunately, he was killed by a rogue agent and his body tossed into a trunk just before the highly dangerous, recently suspended agent Cooper killed herself after downing a fifth of whiskey.”

  A piece of glass crunched under Cooper’s boot as she continued her trek backward. “How long, Diaz?”

  “Working for Perry? A couple years. The money was just too good to pass up, and all I had to do was spread some rumors about my partner.”

  Cooper stopped, the wind seemingly knocked out of her. “You? It was you who started those?”

  “It was easy enough with how many times you’ve been undercover and how you rub everyone the wrong way in the department.”

  The weight of Cooper’s pistol sagged in its holster, and she cursed herself for not keeping her guard up. “Perry won’t last forever, Diaz. He’ll be stopped, and when he is, anyone who’s been associated with him will have a cell right next door. You think he’ll give a shit about you once all this is done?”

  “By then, I’ll be on a beach in the Mediterranean, sipping on a cold drink. I’m not sticking around for whatever that psychopath has planned, but you can bet your ass it won’t be good. I’ve got enough money to go anywhere and do anything I want.” Diaz pulled the hammer back on the pistol and placed his finger on the trigger. “Turn around, Cooper.”

  “What? Can’t do it while you look me in the face?” Cooper felt her heel step into a patch of dirt. Less than ten feet away was a cracked door to one of the buildings. All she needed was two seconds. “At least have the balls for that, Diaz.”

  “And you wonder why nobody ever liked you.” Diaz took a step forward, and Cooper kicked up the dirt, flinging it into Diaz’s eyes. He fired blindly, and the shot grazed her arm, but she managed to make it to the door regardless.

  “You bitch!” Diaz fired wildly into the building, the bullets easily penetrating the old wood.

  Inside, splinters and dust erupted from each shot as Cooper sprinted through the building, ducking low and using one hand to clutch her shoulder while the other held her pistol. She felt the warm, sticky blood between her fingers and didn’t stop running until she made it to the opposite end of the building, where she took a moment to examine her arm.

  The gash ran at least an inch and a half across her biceps, but the bullet had only grazed her, never actually going through the muscle. For that she was thankful. She ripped off a piece of her shirt then wrapped the cloth around the wound tightly.

  “Cooper!” Diaz’s voice echoed through the building, along with his slow, methodical footsteps. “Don’t drag this out.”

  Cooper peeked around the corner, listening to where his voice was coming from. The echo was so bad in the building that he sounded like he was coming from everywhere. She dashed across one of the hallways and into another room, which boasted a dirty window that looked out onto the rest of the building’s surrounding floor.

  “You can’t win, Coop. Give it up.”

  Diaz finally appeared around the corner of the hallway, and she crouched low, half hidden behind the wall and the smudges of the window. She crept over to the door, listening to the footsteps thump closer, waiting for her move. Then, with the backs of Diaz’s legs and feet in sight, she jumped from the door and placed the gun to the back of Diaz’s head. “Don’t move.”

  Diaz held up his hands, along with the gun, and Cooper snatched it from him and tucked it into her belt at the back of her pants. “Think about this, Cooper. Perry already knows who you are. You won’t be able to stop him, and neither will your boat captain. But it’s not too late for you to come aboard. We could use you. Pin everything on Moringer. We could do it.”

  “Shut up.” Cooper kept the gun to the back of Diaz’s skull and patted him down. She finally found a phone and flipped it open. It had a signal, and she searched through the recent numbers. There weren’t any she recognized.

  Diaz tried to turn around, but Cooper forced him to keep his eyes in front of him and his hands in the air. “You move, and I kill you.”

  “What about shooting me when you’re looking at me, huh?” Diaz asked. “What happened to that, Coop?”

  Cooper spun him around, the lines on her face twisted with the dirt and grime that she’d collected over the past few days. “I don’t have any qualms about shooting a corrupt agent.” She kept the pistol aimed at his forehead. “Where’s the real exchange happening?”

  Diaz remained silent, but then Cooper increased the pressure on Diaz’s forehead with the end of the pistol. “The old boat dock where the captain arrived when we got that call. That’s where they’re meeting.”

  The phone rang, and Cooper’s eyes flitted to it long enough for Diaz to make a grab for the pistol, twisting her arm as she fired randomly into the wall. Diaz shook the pistol loose then jammed his elbow into her face, causing her to stumble backward.

  Cooper reached around for the pistol on her back, but Diaz was already on her, knocking it down before she had a chance to aim. He then lunged for the pistol on the floor, but she quickly followed, landing on top of him, and spun him around, bringing her fist into the bridge of his nose, which sounded with a loud crack upon contact. Blood gushed from Diaz’s nostrils and flowed down his lips and chin. He blocked the next blow Cooper tried to land then twisted her off, and the two rolled over one another.

  Elbows, knees, shoulders, and heads banged against the hard concrete as Cooper and Diaz fought. The fatigue was wearing Cooper down, and she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to keep it up. The burn in her muscles reached a fever pitch, and Diaz got the upper hand with a quick strike to her throat, which choked the air out of her.

  Diaz had his hand on the gun, and before he turned, Cooper reached for the pistol that she’d dropped earlier. By the time he turned around, she’d fired off five rounds into his chest. He collapsed on his side, blood pouring from the five holes in his shirt as his grip on the pistol loosened.

  Cooper dropped the gun. She was hyperventilating. She clutched the wall, the ground, tried to push herself up, but couldn’t get the jelly out of her legs. “Christ.” She shut her eyes hard, gathering her thoughts and what strength she had left.

  If Dylan was going into the exchange alone, then he wouldn’t stand a chance, and with a dead agent on her hands, as well as the one witness who had actually seen Perry himself gone, Cooper’s only hope was to get to Dylan. And she had to hurry.

  ***

  Dylan checked his watch incessantly, but each time he did, time seemed to crawl to a halt. He pulled the pair of binoculars to his eyes once more and scanned the marina. The docks were completely empty, and the parking lot was in the same shape. The police tape was still up from the investigation.

  Mark kept a steady hand on the ship’s wheel, while Dylan was preoccupied. “He’ll show up, Dylan. Remember, he wants this just as bad as you do.” The old man’s words attempted to be reassuring, but Dylan found little solace in them.

  “Keep us close to the peninsula. It’ll give us a good barrier if things turn south.” Dylan checked his binoculars one more time then watched a car pull into the parking lot, then a second. Dylan gripped the binoculars tighter, the plastic casing creaking from the increased pressure. He waited for someone to get out of the vehicle, but once the cars were parked, no one moved. They were going to wait until he showed.

  Dylan tossed the binoculars aside and descended into the cabin. He gathered up the nuclear computer chips but left the one item that Perry had asked him to collect personally below deck. He loaded the revolver along with some extra rounds and tucked it into the back of his pants. He caught his hand shaking when he flung the strap of his pack over his shoulder. He squeezed it a few times, trying to calm the nerves wreaking havoc on his body.

  Don’t give him what he wants until Sean is safe. Dylan repeated that to himself over and over like a mantra until the tremor in his hand stopped. When he came out of the cabin and stepped onto the deck, Mark already had the small raft waiting for him.

  “Water and rations are in the cooler.” Mark gestured toward the back, his voice rough and throaty. It got that way whenever the old man tried to hide his emotions. “Wasn’t sure really how much to give, but you’ve got at least two days’ worth. Just in case it gets bad.”

  Dylan wrapped the old man in a hug, being mindful of the stitches around Mark’s stomach. “Thank you. For everything.”

  Mark clapped Dylan on the back and nodded. “If you’re not at the spot by nightfall, I’ll head to the police like you said. I’ve got everything written down in the statement verbatim.”

  Dylan lowered himself into the rickety canoe, and it wobbled back and forth. He grabbed the oar and started paddling, cutting through the light chop on the bay. Dylan figured Perry would assume he would arrive by sea, so he kept a watchful eye for any ships in the distance. So far, the coast was clear.

  It took nearly an hour to make it to the south of the marina. Dylan tucked the canoe under the cover of bushes and left it. He kept his feet as light as he could on the way to the docks, still being mindful of whoever could be close by. Perry wouldn’t take this meeting without taking precautions, and Dylan kept a lookout for any men he may have stationed along the shoreline to watch for him.

  Dylan emerged from the brush next to the marina and stepped out onto the parking lot. The moment his foot hit the pavement, the men in the two sedans opened their car doors. Perry was among them, getting out of the back seat, and Dylan froze near the edge of the lot, waiting for his son to show. “Where’s Sean?”

  Perry nodded to one of his men, who then pulled Sean out of the car. His mouth was taped shut, and he had restraints around his wrists. “Your son is here, alive, and in one piece. Now, where are my computer chips?”

  Dylan peeled the bag off his back and lifted it into the air. “This is half. You’ll get the other half when both my son and I are safe, far from here. I’ll send you the coordinates where you can pick them up.”

  Perry smiled and walked past his guards, closer to where Dylan stood. “But what about the rest of your family? I think you would want to trade for them as well.”

  A cold shiver rippled through Dylan’s body, and his stomach felt like it dropped to his feet. His mouth went dry, and his face turned a pale white. Perry couldn’t have the rest of his family. Evelyn had left, along with Mary and Peter. He was bluffing.

  Perry gave another nod to one of his men, and when Evelyn was pulled from the second car, the bag in Dylan’s hand dropped to the pavement. Dylan stumbled forward then reached for the revolver around his back, cocked the hammer back, and aimed it right at Perry.

  The terrorists immediately drew their weapons, but Perry quickly held up his hand, stopping them from firing. “You’re playing a game you were never equipped to handle, Captain. You’ve had your moment, but now it’s time for you to end this nonsense.”