Chapter Eleven
The moment Lula opened the door she knew something was very wrong. Naomie's face told her that. Added weight came from the fact that Russell Walker and his son Riggs were with her, as was Mathias Gray Horse.
"Lincoln!" She yelled then held open the door. "Come in."
"Sorry," Naomie apologized.
"This looks like trouble," Lincoln commented when he entered the room.
"Afraid so," Mathias said.
"Everyone please, sit," Lula encouraged.
Once everyone was seated, Russell spoke up. "As Lula can attest, drawing on technology developed for intelligence agencies, my brother and I equip all security personnel with tracking devices. Their phones, luggage and personal identifications such as driver’s licenses have implanted micro-chips. Luggage and id sensors require a certain set of parameters to be met for activation.
"Today, the tracking device in Josie Harper's luggage was activated. We've pinpointed its location."
"So, you're saying that someone has Josie?" Lula asked.
"They have her and my son. A member of his protection detail, posing as a neighbor across the street was shot. He's in surgery but was able to give the make and model of two vehicles leaving Dillon's house."
"And?" Lincoln asked as he shared a look with Mathias.
Mathias looked at Riggs who spoke up. "An hour ago, my uncle received this." He pulled out his phone, pulled up something on the screen and handed it to Lincoln.
Lula looked at the screen as Lincoln hit the play button. Fear for Josie and Dillon swelled rapidly. The video showed them, each tied to a metal chair in front of a blank wall. Dillon looked at something off to one side then at something slightly below the camera lens.
"This message is for Senator Richard Walker. It's time to stand down. You have twelve hours to call a press conference. You will announce your retirement from the Senate and tell America that you have no intention of running for public office again. Should you elect not to take advantage of this opportunity, in thirteen hours you will receive another video, and you may rest assured that your next viewing will be far different. You'll bear witness to the torture of your nephew and the execution of his bodyguard. The clock starts now."
The screen went blank. Lula looked at Lincoln whose face wore an expression that scared her as much as what she'd seen on the video. He looked at the other men. "How long will it take for us to reach the location where they're being held?"
"Five and a half hours if we leave now," Riggs answered.
Lincoln nodded. "Less if we go by air. I need to call Wiley."
Everyone looked at Russell. "Do it," he agreed.
It took less than five minutes, and when Lincoln finished his phone call he addressed everyone in the room. "Wiley and I need an hour to assemble what we need. We'll meet at the private airfield outside of Rockridge in two hours."
He then looked at Lula. "With your permission?"
"You know you don't have to ask. Go save them."
Lincoln nodded. "Gentlemen, gear up. It's wheels up in two hours."
Riggs and Mathias nodded, and Riggs addressed his father. "We'll bring him home, Dad."
"In one piece, son. I want him in one piece."
"Yes, sir."
"Gentlemen, I can't, in good conscience, ask you to you this," Russell said to the other men. "However, know that if you choose to help our family, we will be in your debt and there will never be a favor too large you can ask of us."
"We'll bring him home, sir," Mathias said.
"Thank you." Russell stood and shook hands with Mathias and Lincoln. "Thank you."
"Thank us with a beer when we bring your boy home," Lincoln said and then smiled at Lula. "Keep the home fires burning, babe."
"You know it."
Once the men were gone, leaving Lula, Naomie and Russell sitting in the quiet, Lula looked at Russell. "I'm guessing you'd rather go with them."
"I would, but I trust them to do the job. And I have other irons in this fire I need to manage." He looked at Naomie. "I'll be in the car for a bit. I need to make some calls."
"Do what you need to do," she said and in a rare display of affection, reached to take his hand. "They'll get him, Mr. Walker. They'll bring Dillon home."
"I hope you're right." He squeezed her hand, then nodded at Lula. "Excuse me."
Lula and Naomie looked at one another. "You look like I feel," Lula said.
"Meaning?"
"Frustrated and useless and annoyed that we got left behind."
"Because you think we could ride in and save the day?"
"I think we'd both sure as hell rather be trying than sitting here waiting."
"Amen to that, but what do we know about rescue operations like this?"
Lula huffed out a breath. "Did anyone ever mention that you can be annoyingly right at times?"
Naomie smiled. "It might have been mentioned a time or two." She then sobered. "I know they'll do everything they can, but what about Josie? What do you think she'll do between now and the time they show up?"
"That's what scares me," Lula admitted. If she were in Josie's place, she'd know that she had twelve hours to either find a way to escape or at the least, try and get Dillon out. Because in twelve hours, if they were still prisoners, Josie was going to die.
*****
Josie had scoured every inch of the room. It had an old and scarred concrete floor, block walls, a huge roll down metal door, and an old-fashioned drop ceiling that was too high for her to reach, even standing on Dillon's shoulders. Based upon the size, shape, and stains on the floor, she guessed it to be an RV garage.
Little good that knowledge did her. She'd not found a way out other than trying to overpower whoever opened the door next and considering that six armed men stood outside the door last time as it rose, she doubted she'd get far with that idea.
No, she had to trust that at least one of her devices had registered a location and a security detail was en route.
"How long do you think it's been?" Dillon asked.
She turned to look at him. He was slumped against the wall, legs outstretched, and shoulders hunched. "A couple of hours."
"Do you believe them?" She knew he'd eventually ask and had dreaded it. Now the time had come.
"Yes."
"So you think they'll... you know."
"Kill me and torture you? Yes."
"Then how the hell can you be so calm?"
Josie sat beside him and took his hand. "I guess it's the training. Or faith."
"Faith? In what?"
She put a finger to her lips. Even though she'd checked and rechecked every inch of their cell and could find no signs of a camera or microphone, there could well be one mounted too high for her to recognize or see. "Hug me."
Dillon pulled her onto his lap and buried his face in the crook of her neck. She whispered to him. "I'm hoping that our belongings were taken with us. There are tracking devices in my belongings, so if they brought my stuff, your uncle's security will have already pinpointed our location."
"And you think the people who took us wouldn't have thought of that?"
She had given that thought. "I think they'd expect me to ditch such things so that we couldn't be found. They could always get to our location by hacking from the other side, you know."
"I didn't think of that."
"Well, now you need to have some faith, QB. Faith that others will do what they're supposed to and faith that maybe we do have someone watching over us."
He drew back to look at her then clutched her to him again. "Why did you call me that now?"
"Because you need to be ready, Dillon. The next time that door opens, it will be for one of two things. Either our people will be here to get us out, or our captors will be coming to fulfill their threats. If it's the latter, I'm going to do everything I can to get my hands on one of those automatics the men carry, and I'll take out as many as I can. But you need to be prepared to run and fight if necessary, but primarily to run. You hear me?"
"I can't leave you to die, Josie."
"You have to."
"No, I don't. I can fight with you."
"Please don't say that. It's my—"
"Don't you say that one more time." His arms tightened around her. "I mean it. I know you'll go down fighting and I know you'd die to save me, but I don't want that. I want—I want..."
"What?" she asked when he remained silent.
"I want you."
The tone of his whisper had her pulling back to look into his eyes. "I know we're supposed to be playing a game, Josie and for a while it was. But now-now I realize it's not a game. I didn't want to fall for you, that's for damn sure. But I did. I'm crazy about you, and I want us to have a chance to see if maybe this thing we have can be something permanent and for that to happen, you have to stay alive."
Josie blinked back tears. "I love you, too."
"And?"
"And we'll survive. Help will come. I believe that."
"Or you want me to believe it will happen."
"Both. But right now, we need to rest, so I'll take first watch." She moved off his lap and patted her legs. "Put your head down and try to sleep. I'll wake you in a few hours."
"How will you know it's been a few hours?"
"I'll count."
"Yeah right."
"Lay down, Dillon."
He finally did, and she leaned her head back against the wall. Wouldn't you know? She mentally talked to herself. You finally find someone to make you feel again and it has the chance to last another ten hours. Josie, you're about the most unlucky person I know.
Her husband's face flashed in her mind, and she could almost hear his voice. "No retreat and no surrender, Josie. Remember, if you do go down, then go down fighting. Don't give a fucking inch."
I won't. No matter what, she'd never stop, never give up. And if they did make it out of this, she'd ask to make this assignment permanent because foolish or not, she was in love with Dillon Walker.