Chapter Ten
Cole adjusted the hard-plated, reinforced vest that included ballistic shoulder and side protection. The policeman from one of the tactical hostage rescue units gave him a combat helmet too. What in the world did he get himself into? He was an attorney who sat at a desk for most of his waking hours. Yes, he worked out, but there was a hell of a difference. The punching bag never hit back and the exercise equipment damn sure didn’t try to murder him.
Captain Lewinski jostled his right arm. “I don’t like you being here, but you’ve got friends in higher places than I do. Don’t get in our way or God forbid killed. The paperwork would be horrendous.”
“I’ll try my best.” Cole’s middle finger itched to raise Lewinski’s rank from Captain to a full bird colonel, but instead he repositioned the cumbersome covering.
“The infrared heat signatures suggest he’s in that building. When I give the signal, follow Porter.” The commander indicated one of the three men leaning against a concrete wall. Lewinski crouched low and dashed to a van disguised as the local utility company’s repair truck.
Pungent odors wafted past Cole’s nose and the stench didn’t come from the dumpster he peered around to scan the bricked street. The run-down warehouse district in Courtney, Colorado housed transients, druggies and prostitutes, and the majority of buildings had broken glass panes. According to the intel, at this very moment, most of the structures were vacant except for the one adjacent to him.
Vadoma gave Hendricks’ whereabouts, but not the exact location, and cautioned that he might have another captive, possibly more. The old woman had been unsure because there were two trustworthy souls that comingled with hers, a motherly spirit and a child.
A youngster in the hands of Hendricks pissed Cole off. Captain Lewinski was correct. He had made several telephone calls and used every marker to force his way into this rescue operation. The men didn’t like the idea of a greenhorn in their midst, because he was a liability. But Cole had been adamant to catch the son of a bitch who caused so much pain and torment to Peyton and other women.
Porter whistled. After his fingers walked, he aimed his thumb over his shoulder indicating the entrance Lewinski spoke about earlier.
Cole dipped his chin to acknowledge the man, but something didn’t feel right. Even though, the captain had state of the art equipment, Cole would defy the commander’s orders and follow his gut instinct. He waited until the squad infiltrated the site where the heat signature traced a human figure then darted to another.
This particular building called to him. He couldn’t describe the sensation zinging through him, but he recognized a consciousness begging for help and a heart that cried for healing. Is this what his sisters felt?
Jillian had been open and discussed her gift. She told him he had it also, but he never believed her, until now. Maybe these manifestations originated from their mother leaving, and as children they wanted the relief of the ache that burdened them. “No way.” Although after what he had seen the past couple of months, there could be some truth to the subject.
Cole shook his head and stared at a dilapidated entry. He grabbed the handle, twisted, and shoved. The rickety door fell off the hinges and crashed to the cement floor, launching a cloud of dust. “Damn.” The booming echoes faded while dirt floated in the air. As gravity took over, the rays of sunlight coming through the window’s openings highlighted their fall.
He withdrew his firearm and sneaked down the hallway. The crunch of glass under his steel-toed boots sounded like the explosions from IED’s. Every little noise seemed to amplify ten times its true decibel level. He hesitated and angled his head around the first threshold on the right. He peered inside a chamber. Nothing. He eyed another exposed area several feet to his left and carefully headed toward it.
Within his soul, pain and anguish burned. How did he know that Hendricks was close? He swallowed hard, readied his handgun, and burst into the room.
A bound and very pregnant woman screamed around the gag. Tears flowed down both of her cheeks and dropped to her bloodied shirt.
“Shut up, bitch.” Hendricks placed a knife to her protruding abdomen. The edge of the blade indented her stomach.
Wow, Vadoma was correct. There were two. And Cole not only heard the mom, but the baby’s distress too.
“Drop your weapon.” Cole raised the bead on the end of the barrel until it centered on Hendricks’ forehead.
“Not a chance. I’ll slice her open before you squeeze the trigger, and she’ll bleed to death.”
“You ready to test your theory? I am.” Cole hoped his bluff worked.
Hendricks’ wild eyes flitted from side to side like a feral animal caught in a poacher’s cage. Seconds later, his demeanor changed, and his gaze transformed into defiance. “By the way, how’s Peyton doing?”
“You son-of-a-bitch.” Cole’s hatred emerged, and he wanted to kill the sorry excuse for a man. That’s what Hendricks’ wants. He remembered what Jillian had said and exhaled through his nose, erased any negative emotions, and stepped closer to his target.
“Did you honestly think that old Romanian woman would be able to stop me?” Hendricks’ sneered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Cole shuffled toward the killer.
“Stop.” Hendricks doubled over and dropped his knife. “Ahh, the bitch is back.”
Cole kicked the blade out of the way and quickly brought his weapon back to Hendricks’ head.
Hendricks snatched a shard of jagged glass and lunged toward the woman.
Cole dived for Hendricks and stretched. Time rippled into an eternity. Would he make it in time to save the hostage or would he fail and watch her die? Death had a unique odor. After a case led him to Iraq and Afghanistan, he never wanted to smell the casualties of war again.
Cole snagged Hendricks’ forearm and tackled him to the floor. He shot a quick glimpse to the woman. “Run. There are police officers outside.” Out of the corner of his eye, Cole glanced at Hendricks’ captive struggling to move within the confines of her bound ankles. While hobbling across the room, she whimpered and disappeared through the door. Relieved she made it out, Cole relaxed.
Hendricks rolled, taking Cole with him.
“Enough of this shit.” Cole wrestled Hendricks until he was on top of the maniac. He pounded his fist into the psycho’s face. Hendricks’ body went limp. Cole scrutinized the serial killer. Hendricks wasn’t the bad ass anymore, and he’d personally see to it that this guy would never harm another woman again.
“We’ll take it from here.” Captain Lewinski holstered his gun.
Cole rose. “I expected more resistance.”
“I’ve seen many reactions, but you never can guess which ones you’ll come across.” The commander loosened his helmet strap.
“Well, I’m not through with him.” Cole reared his foot back and rammed the tip of the steel-toes into Hendricks’ ribs. “That’s for Peyton.” He launched another kick. “And that’s for all the women who died by your filthy hands.” Cole dispensed one more. “That’s from me, you slimy bastard.” Hendricks’ bones crackled, and he groaned.
“Damn it.” Lewinski seized Cole by the shoulder. “Get out of here.” The commander’s head tilted toward the entrance.
Porter rushed into the room. “Captain, do you need help?”
“We’ll need an ambulance.” He cleared this throat. “Hendricks fell.”
Porter perused the area. “From what?”
“Not from, to. I’ve never seen anyone more inept at balance in all my life.”
“Yeah, right. What am I to put in my report?” Porter questioned the commander.
“Exactly what you saw. I’ll detail the rest prior to you coming in.”
Cole regarded Lewinski and nodded once. “If you need anything at all, Captain, you know where to find me.”