Extract
Two months ago, Denver, Colorado
Dreary November clouds hung low and menacing, blocking out the clear blue of the Denver sky. Small pricks of ice laced the air, but Rafe Vargas didn’t feel the cold, even as a puff of visible breath escaped his lips. His focus lasered on the door of the warehouse.
Most of the block was deserted, but orange caution tape and cones peppered the streets. Not surprising. Rafe didn’t have to walk inside the building to know dynamite and detonator cords crisscrossed the location. This entire block of downtown had been scheduled to be dust in a matter of minutes. Covert Technology Confidential’s resident geek, Zane Westin, better be right about the target’s coordinates.
Rafe tugged the stocking cap around his ears to camouflage his identity, bowing his head to avoid providing the surveillance camera a clear image of the patch covering his left eye. That psycho serial killer Archimedes needed to believe the man currently sneaking into the building was Rafe’s best friend and fellow CTC operative, Noah Bradford, otherwise two women might die: the woman Noah guarded and had fallen in love with, and the one Rafe had flown across the country to rescue, Noah’s sister, Sierra.
Archimedes was attempting to use her as leverage to stop Noah’s investigation. Rafe wasn’t about to let that happen, but if he had a prayer of getting her out alive, he had to locate her first.
Then again, if he found Sierra in time to save her life, he might have to kill her. Or kiss her until neither one of them could breathe—the way he’d wanted to from the day they’d met.
Either choice made his gut ache. Best friends’ sisters were off-limits for one. Secondly, and more immediately, Archimedes liked to play deadly games, and he didn’t give a rip about collateral damage. He might just murder Sierra for the satisfaction of proving he could.
Rafe palmed his Kimber 1911 and slipped through the warehouse door. He eyed a camera and ducked behind a large concrete support in a visual dead zone. That ominous and all-too-familiar tingle skittered down Rafe’s spine. He had no doubt Archimedes was watching. The man was a sick voyeur, and the moment Rafe showed himself, the serial killer would know.
“We’re clear,” a worker in a yellow hard hat called across the room to the blaster.
“Then let’s get out of here. This sucker’s going to collapse like a pancake.”
The men hurried out, slamming a metal door behind them. The clang echoed through the empty building.
Rafe checked his GPS and surveyed the open area. Yep. Drilled holes stuffed with dynamite dotted columns throughout the place. No one knew the order was on hold.
They had to keep it that way. Until he found Sierra.
He followed the trail from one of the dynamite cluster’s detonation cables until a second set of wiring caught his attention.
Well, damn and double damn.
Archimedes had been here.
Military grade dets, not used for civilian demolition. No wonder the serial killer had oozed that smug, I-know-more-than-I’m-telling arrogance during their last communication. He’d rigged the existing wire to give him complete control. Even if the demolition expert didn’t set off the charge, Archimedes could. And would.
Sierra.
Rafe’s heart thudded hard against his chest. He glanced at his watch. Hell, no. Five minutes.
If he shot out the cameras, Archimedes might detonate early. Rafe tapped his earpiece. “Zane, you’re sure about those coordinates?”
“Unless Archimedes spoofed them. And he could have. I’d give it fifty-fifty.”
“Not good enough.” CTC’s surveillance expert was the best Rafe had ever worked with. There had to be a way. “If the place doesn’t blow, Archimedes is going to set off the dynamite. Can you jam the detonation signal?”
“I don’t have the time to crack his encryption.” A curse erupted from Zane. “He’s one step ahead of us. Again.”
“What about the cameras?”
“If I disrupt them, he’ll know.” A drumming sounded through the phone. “Maybe...okay, it’ll just be a minute, but I have an idea.”
“You don’t have a minute,” Rafe snapped.
A blur of tapping sounded through the phone. “If I loop the camera feed—”
“He won’t know I’m here. Very Hollywood thriller of you.”
“I try. It’s not going to be pretty, though. If he’s watching closely enough, he’ll be able to tell.”
“Do it.”
“I already started,” Zane said. “A half minute more.”
The seconds ticked by. Rafe studied the path to Sierra’s coordinates, timing it in his head.
“That’s as good as it’ll get,” Zane said. “Go.”
Rafe catapulted from his hiding place and raced across the large concrete building. He skidded to a halt in front of a closed metal door and turned the knob. Locked. “Sierra. I’m coming for you,” he shouted.
He backed up and slammed his foot against the barrier with all his weight behind him. The door bent, but didn’t open. Another kick. A third. A fourth. It wouldn’t give way.
A loud ticking echoed in his head, his internal clock counting down the seconds. This wasn’t working, and Archimedes could discover the deception at any moment.
A large spread of debris littered the floor nearby. A piece of rusted rebar stuck out from one heap. Rafe clutched it in his hand and wedged the end in a small crack created by his assault. With a loud groan he pried the door open.
“Sierra?”
He peered through the opening.
Empty. A mound of wiring and debris filled the small room.
What the hell?
“She’s not here, Zane. Am I even in the right warehouse?”
“According to my data, she has to be within a few feet,” he said.
Ninety seconds.
Normally Rafe’s body grew ultracalm the more perilous the operation, but this was Sierra. His palms grew damp, a bead of sweat trailed down his temple. Where the hell was she?
He rounded a corner and on the opposite wall facing the room he’d just entered, he found another door. The
