Read Online Deadly Alliance by Kathleen Rowland - Free Book Online
Authors: Kathleen Rowland
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CIA.”
Takbir! Finn gritted his teeth. Takbir funded extremists who attacked innocents in Paris. Their network shot women and children, downed a Russian passenger plane, targeted civilians in Beirut. They revived public square crucifixions and then gloated about it with tweets. Now on US soil, they gained more young recruits. A flock of 20,000 fought for the radical Sunni group.
Today at the Harp, their beheading attempt failed.
Eavesdropping on the sidelines pained him, but learning how the FBI planned to proceed meant he’d dove-tail without being asked. It’d been awhile since he’d dealt with terrorists. In spite of catching a blade across his face, he had the ability to defend himself against swordfighters.
Finn eyed water bottles near the coffee pot. Thirst drove him to stand up fast. Amy came into his mind, and his chair tipped back. He forced himself to gulp water, but swallowed it down his lungs and coughed back the menace closing in on her and others.
Amy’s safety wasn’t the agency’s primary concern, and his heart pinched at her bravery. Dropping her at the office wasn’t his best idea. Two gangs. The Waterfront Roaches against the Takbir-Mexican faction. Double the danger. His brain was a buzz of white noise looking for answers. The more he overheard through the open door, the more protection of her took root.
Next door, photo comparisons between the bureau’s archives and images captured on Amy’s cell caused Guhleman’s voice to reach an excitable level. He sent all her photos to the FBI, DEA, and Interpol.
McGill made a comment about alerts.
Finn caught the gist of the hotel altercation and supplied the rest from his intuition. As he stared at the wall without seeing it, his mind filled with the painful scene Amy recounted. Seated at a round table, four Waterfront Roaches were held captive.
“Bingo, here they are. On the Most Wanted,” Guhleman said.
Finn wasn’t surprised. The Roaches ruled enough of Southern California to come up on the FBI database. His mother married Aidan Rourke, their highest-ranking figure, who took a bullet clean through his shoulder. Heritage ruled when a boss was out of commission. The next in line, a Rourke son or nephew, would take over drug trafficking, endless murders, and racketeering with little competition. Recently, Takbir struck a gold mine.
Every now and then, from somewhere on the desk, the sheriff’s cellphone pinged with a message. It wasn’t his to answer.
Finn’s thoughts went to his step-siblings’ limitations within their Mafia family. He’d never met any of them, but knew their names. Aidan Rourke contributed hundreds of thousands to his company’s trust accounts for Daniel, Connor, Sean, and Vivienne. Aidan’s brother had trusts for his children, Thomas and Victoria.
At the scuffling of feet, Finn jerked. .
McGill sauntered in and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m leaving Guhleman to his thinking. If you ask me, he’s outside the box.”
“That’s his job.” Finn sensed McGill’s tense irritation, but for this reason, he liked the agent.
McGill rummaged around his desktop for his noisy cellphone. “My job is responding to my wife’s texts.” He chuckled, and without reading her message, he hit a speed-dial button. “Honey. What’s up?” After a few minutes he finished the call.
“Is everything okay?” Finn asked because of Amy’s friendship with McGill’s wife. His brain winced with innate wariness toward things that hadn’t begun.
“All is well. Just a schedule change.” McGill paused. “Bayliss feels it’s less intrusive to text. It’s the opposite. I like hearing her voice.” He slipped his cell into his breast pocket and gave it a pat.
“You two are joined at the hip.”
McGill cranked open a window. “Coffee, Finn? My wife would love it if I stopped with the donuts. Want one?”
“Water is more than enough.” No news about Amy eased his anxiety. “What did Agent Guhleman have to
Takbir! Finn gritted his teeth. Takbir funded extremists who attacked innocents in Paris. Their network shot women and children, downed a Russian passenger plane, targeted civilians in Beirut. They revived public square crucifixions and then gloated about it with tweets. Now on US soil, they gained more young recruits. A flock of 20,000 fought for the radical Sunni group.
Today at the Harp, their beheading attempt failed.
Eavesdropping on the sidelines pained him, but learning how the FBI planned to proceed meant he’d dove-tail without being asked. It’d been awhile since he’d dealt with terrorists. In spite of catching a blade across his face, he had the ability to defend himself against swordfighters.
Finn eyed water bottles near the coffee pot. Thirst drove him to stand up fast. Amy came into his mind, and his chair tipped back. He forced himself to gulp water, but swallowed it down his lungs and coughed back the menace closing in on her and others.
Amy’s safety wasn’t the agency’s primary concern, and his heart pinched at her bravery. Dropping her at the office wasn’t his best idea. Two gangs. The Waterfront Roaches against the Takbir-Mexican faction. Double the danger. His brain was a buzz of white noise looking for answers. The more he overheard through the open door, the more protection of her took root.
Next door, photo comparisons between the bureau’s archives and images captured on Amy’s cell caused Guhleman’s voice to reach an excitable level. He sent all her photos to the FBI, DEA, and Interpol.
McGill made a comment about alerts.
Finn caught the gist of the hotel altercation and supplied the rest from his intuition. As he stared at the wall without seeing it, his mind filled with the painful scene Amy recounted. Seated at a round table, four Waterfront Roaches were held captive.
“Bingo, here they are. On the Most Wanted,” Guhleman said.
Finn wasn’t surprised. The Roaches ruled enough of Southern California to come up on the FBI database. His mother married Aidan Rourke, their highest-ranking figure, who took a bullet clean through his shoulder. Heritage ruled when a boss was out of commission. The next in line, a Rourke son or nephew, would take over drug trafficking, endless murders, and racketeering with little competition. Recently, Takbir struck a gold mine.
Every now and then, from somewhere on the desk, the sheriff’s cellphone pinged with a message. It wasn’t his to answer.
Finn’s thoughts went to his step-siblings’ limitations within their Mafia family. He’d never met any of them, but knew their names. Aidan Rourke contributed hundreds of thousands to his company’s trust accounts for Daniel, Connor, Sean, and Vivienne. Aidan’s brother had trusts for his children, Thomas and Victoria.
At the scuffling of feet, Finn jerked. .
McGill sauntered in and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m leaving Guhleman to his thinking. If you ask me, he’s outside the box.”
“That’s his job.” Finn sensed McGill’s tense irritation, but for this reason, he liked the agent.
McGill rummaged around his desktop for his noisy cellphone. “My job is responding to my wife’s texts.” He chuckled, and without reading her message, he hit a speed-dial button. “Honey. What’s up?” After a few minutes he finished the call.
“Is everything okay?” Finn asked because of Amy’s friendship with McGill’s wife. His brain winced with innate wariness toward things that hadn’t begun.
“All is well. Just a schedule change.” McGill paused. “Bayliss feels it’s less intrusive to text. It’s the opposite. I like hearing her voice.” He slipped his cell into his breast pocket and gave it a pat.
“You two are joined at the hip.”
McGill cranked open a window. “Coffee, Finn? My wife would love it if I stopped with the donuts. Want one?”
“Water is more than enough.” No news about Amy eased his anxiety. “What did Agent Guhleman have to
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