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  Hanna couldn’t keep her eyes from drifting down to the knife Billy had set on the table. Suddenly, she felt like she had no control over her own actions. There was no conscious thought as she moved.

  She reached down and grabbed the open folding knife on the table. The blade looked nasty, all sharp angles and gleaming steel. She brought the blade up and swung it at Billy’s face as fast as she could.

  The muscular Russian was quick. He jerked his head back, and the blade missed him by an inch.

  Hanna swung at him again, but the result was the same. A smile spread across his face. That stupid, infuriating smile.

  Hanna couldn’t stop herself—she drove the sharp blade into the top of his left hand. She felt the steel pass through his flesh and tendons and then stick firm in the wooden table. Blood spurted up from the wound like a tiny oil-well gusher.

  Billy’s eyes bulged and he let out a wail. It hurt Hanna’s ears, but it was satisfying to know she had hurt him so deliberately.

  The two men closest to Billy rushed to his aid.

  Hanna shouted in Dutch, “Run, Josie! Run!”

  Her daughter didn’t need to be told twice. She jumped off the bench and turned to run.

  One of the dark-haired young men moved from Billy and grabbed Josie. She didn’t make it three steps.

  That’s when Hanna heard the first gunshots.

  Chapter 100

  THIS WAS LIKE a lot of operations I’d run in my career. We were making the most of our limited resources and I was working with the local police without telling my supervisor. Everything was going about like I’d expected it to.

  Rolling down Ocean Drive in my Explorer, I strained to see where Hanna had gone with the backpack. That was what the Russians wanted, or at least the diamonds inside it. That’s what I was looking for. That’s where I’d find the Russians.

  The last I heard, Hanna’s brother was still sitting in the rental car somewhere near the Clevelander Hotel. I could hear bits and pieces of music from the band around the Clevelander pool. Everything in South Beach picked up near dark.

  Marie pointed to the road and shouted, “There!”

  I saw him. Running across the street was Albert Greete with a pistol in his hand that he was aiming toward the beach. I heard gunshots. Holy shit. This crazy Dutchman was running through traffic shooting at someone.

  I mashed the brakes and felt the car behind me crash into my bumper. That was the least of my problems. I popped on the blue lights and bailed out of the car.

  Marie came out of the car with me but had the sense to wait by the vehicle.

  Just as I pulled my service weapon, panic set in among the pedestrians. It started as a low rumble, then progressed to screams. Vehicles screeched to a halt and I heard the unmistakable thuds of cars smashing into other cars. A BMW swerved into a light pole.

  A family with two little kids coming off the beach stepped right into the line of fire. My heart stopped when I saw the little girl’s face. The beefy father grabbed the kids and fell to the ground, covering the children. That was some good tactical sense. He had to be a Miami native.

  People on the beach were running as well, topless women and buff men who had no idea where they were going. It looked like a disaster movie, but only I knew all the terrible things that could really happen in this story.

  When I got closer to the beach, I saw Albert exchanging fire with big men dressed in suits—Russians, I assumed. I couldn’t see Hanna, but I knew where I was headed.

  I dodged a Land Rover as I came off the street and cut across the sidewalk. I intended to intercept Albert.

  It was showtime.

  Chapter 101

  HANNA DIDN’T CARE what happened to her; she just wanted to buy enough time to get her daughter away. The sound of gunfire had frozen everyone in place momentarily. Even the man who grabbed Josie had stopped midstride to look over his shoulder.

  Billy had quit wailing and was now staring at the knife sticking through his left hand. Blood was still pouring out of the wound, but it wasn’t shooting up in the air like it had been a moment before.

  The young man just to the side of Billy, dressed in a slick gray pin-striped suit, started to pull the knife out of Billy’s hand.

  That’s when the man’s head exploded. Like a bomb. Blood spattered over everything near him. Billy was suddenly covered in brains and blood. The combination of the knife stuck through his hand and the blood everywhere briefly stunned him.

  Somehow, he managed to grab the knife in his mutilated hand with his uninjured hand. It took three good tugs before the knife came free of the table and released him.

  Billy reached across the table for the backpack.

  Hanna snatched it away. Why not? Things couldn’t go any worse for this deal. She spun away from the picnic table holding the bag. Albert was only about twenty feet ahead, just crossing the sidewalk.

  He fired almost point-blank into a big Russian thug in a blue suit. Even five quick shots to the stomach didn’t stop the man; he took another step and grabbed Albert by the neck.

  Albert struggled with him for a moment, then broke free, took a step back, and fired a bullet into each of the man’s knees. Finally the man dropped to the ground. So much blood was coming out of the wounds that the sand couldn’t absorb it all, and it spread around his body.

  Hanna needed to get Albert, grab Josie, and disappear with them. There wasn’t much else to do at this point.

  As she started to run to her brother, Hanna heard someone shout, “Police, don’t move!” She looked toward the street and saw the big Miami cop, Tom Moon, rushing down the slope toward the picnic table. She hoped Billy would be the first person he grabbed. She looked over her shoulder for the bloodied Russian but didn’t see him.

  She turned back to Albert, who was aiming his gun at another Russian. Then she saw a blur as someone came from the side and knocked into her brother.

  It was Billy.

  Albert rolled and came up on his feet to face Billy. That’s when the Russian brought the knife in a wide arc right across Albert’s throat.

  Albert stood there for a moment, motionless. Then the gash on his throat opened wide, and he reached for it with his left hand. A moment later, he toppled into the sand.

  The gun he’d bought here in Miami was still in his right hand.

  Billy held the bloody knife and turned toward Hanna. He didn’t ask for the backpack.

  She knew exactly what he intended to do.

  Chapter 102

  I TRIED TO control my breathing while scanning for the closest threat. Tourists and partyers from the Clevelander were scampering in every direction. I’d managed to block out the clamor of screams, car horns, and approaching sirens. My hand holding the Glock in front of me was steady.

  I rushed toward the last place I’d seen Hanna. I knew that anyone in a suit was a threat. One man was already down by the picnic table with the majority of his head missing. Blood and brain matter covered the table and one of the benches.

  There were two other Russians near the beach, but I saw Steph Hall and Chill rushing toward them shouting, “Police, don’t move!”

  I trusted them to handle the two Russians. I turned to the next target. Even though it was hard to see his face because of the blood streaked across it, I knew it was Billy. His build and stupid blue goatee gave him away.

  The body next to him wasn’t dressed in a suit. I saw it was Hanna’s brother, Albert.

  In almost the same instant, I realized Billy had a knife in his hand and intended to use it on Hanna.

  I didn’t have a clear shot at Billy, not with Hanna between us. She was dodging back and forth. I raised my pistol, then lowered it, looking for the right angle. Finally, I realized there was only one way to do this.

  I lowered my head and charged forward, hoping my size and the element of surprise would win the day.

  I took one step to the right to avoid Hanna, then crashed into Billy like a pickup truck. My left hand reached out
to hold his right wrist and keep the knife away from me.

  The sound he made when I careened into him told me I’d knocked the breath out of him. We tumbled into the sand and I managed to lose my pistol. This close together, it didn’t matter. I held on to his right hand with all of my strength. I grabbed his left hand; it felt odd and slick. Then I realized it was covered in blood, and more blood was pumping out of a wound in the middle of his hand.

  He rolled and slipped away from me. We both jumped into a crouch and faced each other. The look in his eyes told me he was scared. He’d lost some blood and had seen his deal go to hell, and now he was probably thinking about what he’d have to tell Roman Rostoff.

  I might be able to use that fear.

  I scanned the beach around me, searching for my pistol. As I glanced to my left, I took a hard punch to the right side of my face. It made me stagger. Blood started pouring from my nose.

  Before I had my full senses back, Billy kicked me hard in the stomach. Now we were both short of breath. I stumbled back and caught a glimpse of Billy running straight at me. With his goatee, the blood on his face, and his eyes open wide, he looked like some kind of demon.

  Just as he hit me, I fell backward on purpose and rolled with it. It was the first time in my whole life that that little move worked. He ended up rolling right over the top of me and landed with a hard thump on some sea oats in the sand.

  I sprang to my feet, and when Billy got up on his knees, I pretended his head was a football and punted him as hard as I could. The top of my foot connected with his blue goatee. His head snapped up hard. A tooth flew up in the air and disappeared into the sea oats.

  Billy grunted as he flopped over onto his back. All the fight had gone out of him. Quickly, I fell on top of him and patted him down for more weapons. He didn’t even carry a gun. I guess that’s how he’d gotten the nickname Billy the Blade.

  It took me only a few seconds to handcuff him and retrieve my pistol.

  Chill and Steph were holding their prisoners on the sidewalk about fifty feet from me. I shot Steph a quick thumbs-up to let her know I was okay.

  Hanna was sitting next to her dead brother, weeping.

  I pulled Billy to his feet so he was standing right next to me, a shell of the well-dressed confident jerk I had dealt with before. His face and suit were covered with blood. His hair was no longer neatly slicked back but stuck up in every direction, revealing his scalp. His face was caked with blood and sand, and his left hand needed immediate medical attention.

  I said, “You’re done. Kidnapping, murder, human trafficking—your days of living near the beach are over. I might die poor, but I guarantee you’ll die in prison.”

  Billy said, “Wait, can’t we work this out?” He spit blood and fragments of teeth into the sand.

  “Billy, are you trying to bribe me? I don’t mind being poor.”

  I thought the muscular Russian was going to cry. It was oddly satisfying.

  Chapter 103

  I HELD A shaken Billy upright. His whole world had just collapsed. I needed to give him time to understand that. I needed him. He could sink the entire Rostoff organization. I felt the tremor of fear as I held his arm.

  Billy said, “I can’t go to prison. That’s why I fled Russia. I’m sure we can work something out.”

  I had him. “The only way we can work anything out is if you give up your boss. You make a statement right now to me about Roman Rostoff and maybe I can help you.”

  “I can transfer any amount of money into any account. Immediately,” Billy said.

  I snorted. “This isn’t the movies. It’s not Russia either. That shit doesn’t usually work here. That’s why I didn’t say you could walk, only that I might be able to help you.”

  Billy considered it and finally said, “How can you help me?”

  “Tell us all about the Rostoff organization. I know I can get a prosecutor to work with us. You’ll do time, but it’ll be in some country-club federal lockup, not a hellhole state prison like Raiford.”

  Billy stared at me with an unreadable expression. Blood seeped from a dozen places on his face. He was a beaten, broken man. Finally, he mumbled, “Mr. Rostoff will kill me.”

  I had to think fast. “Unless we arrest him first. We have ways to protect you.”

  Billy looked down at the ground. I wondered how many people he had killed to protect his boss. This wasn’t an easy decision for him, but it was the best time to hit him with the proposal.

  I just stood there in silence, letting him consider his options. It took longer than I’d thought it would. He started to speak a couple of times, then stopped. At last he nodded and said, “Okay.”

  I felt like I had just found a hoard of gold. I finally had a chance to land the big fish: Rostoff.

  I heard Steph Hall shout, shaking me out of my daydream. I turned my attention away from Billy. Steph aimed her pistol at someone coming from the beach.

  It was another Russian asshole in a black suit. He must’ve heard Billy and me speaking from the other side of the sea oats. My right hand moved quickly while I held on to Billy’s arm with my left hand. He raised a pistol and at the same time I drew my Glock; we were like gunfighters in the Old West.

  The man in the black suit got off three rounds before Steph opened fire on him. I popped off two more rounds. Between the two of us, we caught him in the center mass of the chest, and he went down onto the sand in a heap.

  I felt Billy pull away from me, and for a moment I thought he was trying to escape. Then I realized the man’s shots hadn’t been directed at me—Billy had three holes in his chest. He sank onto the beach.

  My best shot at taking down Roman Rostoff was gone.

  Chapter 104

  AFTER THE INCIDENT on the beach, it was a crazy few days. I was suspended while the FBI investigated the shooting. All the Russians had been armed, and the media painted law enforcement in the best possible light for a change.

  I remember the relief I felt when Alvin Teague walked back to the scene with Hanna’s daughter, Josie. Marie was with them. She had been instrumental in protecting Josie and calming her down. Once she’d spoken Dutch to the girl, Josie realized she was safe.

  Teague had managed to cover the surveillance, help save the girl, and make it sound like a normal day at the Miami PD. Like I said, Smooth Jazz might’ve been a pompous ass, but he was a hell of a cop.

  I attended Hanna Greete’s first court appearance. I was still suspended, but there was no law that said I couldn’t follow the proceedings closely as a civilian. The judge was a former federal prosecutor named Alice Jackson, someone I had dealt with a few times. She gave me a quick smile when I stepped into the back of the courtroom.

  Hanna looked much different in the simple tan correctional scrubs she wore to face the judge. Her public defender, Chad Laine, asked for bail. I thought Judge Jackson might laugh out loud.

  The judge looked over some paperwork and finally said, “Based on the crimes you’re charged with, your lack of residency, and your lack of ties to the community, there will be no bail at this time.”

  Laine, a tall charmer in a cheap suit with a Florida Gator pin on his lapel, stood and said, “If I personally vouched for my client, would that influence the court?”

  Judge Jackson smiled and said, “Yes, it would. It would make me think you were a good attorney who really cared about his client.”

  “What about in regard to bond for Ms. Greete?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s a citizen of the Netherlands who appears to have entered this country only for a criminal endeavor. In addition, the indictment details the deaths of four people smuggled into the port of Miami.”

  The attorney hung his head.

  Judge Jackson said, “Good effort, Counselor. I’d like to help out a fellow Gator, but I have no choice in this matter.”

  Josie had been allowed to return to Amsterdam in the custody of her babysitter, Tasi.

  When the hearing was over, I stood at
the rail between the public seats and the prosecutor’s table. I said hello to the prosecutor and thanked her for her hard work.

  The deputy U.S. marshals started to lead Hanna back to the holding cell. As they passed me, she looked up and said, “Thank you for letting us save my daughter.”

  That’s not what I’d expected after such a demanding investigation. Now I felt like the Amsterdam connection on this case was closed. That didn’t mean we were done. Though it did mean that Marie Meijer would be going back to Amsterdam, accompanying Magda so she could be reunited with her brother, Joseph.

  Three days later, I found myself at the Miami International Airport with Steph Hall saying goodbye to Marie.

  Marie had been chatty on the way to the airport, updating me about what she’d been hearing from the kids. Even the children still at the facility in Amsterdam seemed to be adapting well, though Marie said they all asked about me.

  We were quiet a moment. I said, “Did this investigation work out the way you’d hoped?”

  “We broke up Hanna’s smuggling group. That’s all I wanted. I’m sure I’ll get onto the scent of another group soon.” She looked at me closely. “What about you? Did the case work out for you?”

  I smiled. “We saved some kids. That’s all I ever want to think about.”

  Marie and I stood close together near the gate while Steph spoke with Magda a dozen feet away. Marie surprised me when she hooked her finger around mine and leaned in closer. “I hope this isn’t a permanent goodbye,” she said.

  I smiled. “No way.”

  “Are they letting you stay on the task force?”

  “Looks like it. It’s tough to discipline someone who the Miami Herald calls a ‘hero cop.’”

  “Why do you say it like that? You are a hero.”

  “I’m lucky, that’s all. So many things could’ve gone wrong. Or, I should say, even more wrong. But the FBI liked the press, so I’m still on the task force.”