It’s essential I get there as fast as possible because I know, without a doubt, Borovsky is headed to Miami.
He’s going after Jessica, and he’s going to make her pay.
CHAPTER 2
Dozer
“Hi, it’s Jessica. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you. Better yet… text.”
I growl as I disconnect the call. It does no good to leave another voicemail on Jessica’s phone. My first one was short, to the point, and hopefully not overly panicked sounding. I basically told her Borovsky had escaped, that we needed to get her moved somewhere safe, and that I was heading to Miami.
I’m assuming the reason she hasn’t heard my voicemail is because she’s sound asleep and her ringer is muted after ten p.m. It’s nearly one a.m. now, and I didn’t really have hopes that she’d be awake and would see my call. She has no landline, so this is the only way to get in touch with her.
I consider calling her mother Claire. She lives twenty minutes from Jessica, and I could ask her to go over and get her out of the house. I choose not to do that mainly because I can’t put her mother in danger. I also consider calling the police and having them put an officer outside her house, but I don’t because I can’t explain how I have such expeditious information regarding Borovsky’s escape without getting Bebe into trouble for hacking into the prison system.
Speaking of which, I glance at my watch and curse as I pace my living room. “Goddamn it… where’s Bebe?”
“She’ll be here any minute,” Barrett reassures me. Cruce put her in charge of managing me since I’ve been a bit of a basket case. Since the minute I saw that alert on Borovsky, I’ve been a mass of jumbled nerves. I explained the situation to Cruce and Barrett as they drove me home, and by the time we’d arrived, Cruce was in full battle-planning mode. I’d called Bebe, and without giving details, asked her to go to Jameson headquarters to pick up some equipment I’d need and meet me at my house, since I live closer to the airport. Cruce had gotten on the phone with Kynan and made arrangements to ready the Jameson plane. Luckily, there’s always a pilot on call for unexpected and emergency trips such as this.
If I can just get on the plane, I can be in Miami in three hours. If I hustle, I can be at Jessica’s house by daybreak and get her the hell out of there and to safety until Borovsky’s captured. I just need Bebe to hurry up and get here with my shit.
“You have to relax, Dozer,” Cruce says in an effort to calm me down. “Even if Borovsky heads straight to Miami, it’s going to take him several hours, probably a few days, to make it there without getting caught.”
I nod in agreement but grimace. “Unless the family is in on this escape—which they probably are, given their resources—and they have a private plane to smuggle him on.” Cruce issues a low curse in recognition of this possibility. “More likely, I have to worry about the family moving on Jessica on behalf of Ivan. His need for revenge will be backed by them without question.”
“Then Bebe better hurry up,” Cruce murmurs.
To distract myself, I bend over my packed duffel bag that sits next to a suitcase filled with clothes. I have no clue if what I threw in there even matches, but that’s not as important as what’s in the duffel. I unzip it and stare at the weapons inside: three different handguns, an AR-15, brass knuckles, a tactical baton, and boxes of ammo. The handguns are a necessity—the AR-15, probably not, but I feel better having it. The brass knuckles for if I’m lucky enough to get my hands on Borovsky, and the tactical baton is something I’ve trained with the past year in hand-to-hand combat.
I smile grimly as I zip the duffel back up. I came into Jameson a year ago, hired for my brain, and ninety-nine percent of my job is putting that brain to use down in the R&D lab at headquarters. But I’ve also spent a lot of time training with Kynan and the other agents. I’ve become proficient in all weapons, and I’m a dead shot at the range. I’ve been practicing mixed martial arts, which I have an affinity for because I’m inherently athletic and I took karate when I was a kid. I’m a big guy, in the best shape of my life because while my brain is my real strength, I’ve always been serious about keeping my body healthy. I get that from my dad.
Kynan has even let me participate in some of the advanced training the other agents do, such as high-speed driving, as well as evasion and torture exercises. I’m not saying I’ll ever want to be a field agent, but I’m not afraid of anything that might come my way.