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Nothing Left to Lose by Kirsty Moseley (47)

Chapter Forty-Seven

 

 

~ Ashton ~

 

 

Exhaustion didn’t quite cover what I felt as I sat on the edge of my bed. I’d just been to work for sixteen hours straight, and my body was hurting like hell. I flopped onto my back and glanced over at the clock; it was only eight in the evening. Unable to resist, I picked up my cell phone and texted Anna, the same as I did every day.

 

I had a hard day at work today. I really would love to talk to you. Please call me. I love you, always x’

 

I sent it and closed my eyes, not even bothering to get undressed, and fell to sleep immediately.

I woke just after nine in the morning to my cell phone ringing on the bed next to me. I grabbed it quick and answered it, hoping it was Anna. “Agent Taylor,” I croaked, my voice thick with sleep.

“Ashton, it’s Officer Weston.”

I frowned. “Yes, sir?” I replied, sitting up quickly. He never called me; I wasn’t assigned to him anymore.

“Ashton, I’ve just heard something, and I thought you should know,” he sounded remarkably stressed and I felt my body tense up. “Miss Spencer’s been taken, her guards are dead. They think it’s Carter Thomas.”

My tired brain immediately registered what he’d said. Anna. Anna was in trouble. “WHAT? WHEN?” I cried, jumping out of the bed, stripping out of my uniform and grabbing the first clean clothes that I saw, throwing them on.

“Just a couple of hours ago. One of the agents managed to call through to the White House for backup, but by the time they got extra staff there, everyone was dead and she was gone,” he said sadly.

Anger made my teeth ache as I clenched my jaw. I was angry at Carter, angry at myself for not being there, and I was also angry at Anna for sending me away in the first place. I should have been there, I could have stopped this. Out of frustration, I kicked my chest of drawers, taking my anger out on that. When that didn’t help, I grabbed it and pulled it over, spilling everything over to the floor, making a loud crash as the mirror broke and my possessions scattered all over my floor.

“Do they know where she is?” I asked.

He sighed. “No, they have no idea. They don’t think she got on a plane, they’ve been monitoring the airports, but she could be anywhere by now,” he replied.

My heart was in my throat, my hands shaking with rage. If he touched one hair on her beautiful head, I would rip him to pieces! “I need to go, sir,” I stated, not even waiting for an answer.

I disconnected the call and dialled Anna’s number. It answered immediately. “Who’s this?” a man’s voice asked.

I felt the snarl try to rip itself out of my mouth. “Who the fuck is this and what are you doing with Anna’s phone?” I growled as I threw a change of clothes into a bag along with my guns, ammo, knives and my other tactical gear.

“This is Agent Richards,” the voice replied hesitantly.

“This is Agent Taylor. Why do you have Anna’s phone?” I asked, trying to control my breathing; all I wanted to do was smash everything, and that wouldn’t help at all.

“Miss Spencer didn’t take her cell phone; it’s here in the apartment.”

I closed my eyes and groaned. They couldn’t even track her through her cell signal. Why hadn’t I ever thought about getting a tracking device on her body or something? I could have suggested it to her dad, I’m sure he could have commissioned something small enough to attach to the back of an earring or necklace.

I ended the call, pressing the phone to my forehead, thinking. Officer Weston was right, they could be anywhere by now, with Carter’s money and contacts they could be on a boat, helicopter or private plane, on their way to goodness knows where. He even suggested in one of his letters that they go somewhere else for a fresh start when he got out of jail. How was I going to find her if I had no idea where to look?

I groaned and threw my bag onto the bed angrily. I felt useless; there was nothing I could do from here on my own. I would just have to fly to Arizona and wait in her apartment with the other agents; I would make her dad reinstate me as her guard so I could devote my time to finding her. I wouldn’t give up, not even if I had to look for a lifetime.

If only I could find someone who knew Carter’s whereabouts, or at the very least, someone who worked for him so that I could force them to tell me where she was. An idea suddenly hit me, I wasn’t sure if it would work, but it was sure as hell worth a try. I held my breath as I dialled the one person who I knew would have a chance at finding her. He was a lying, cheating scumbag, and I hadn’t seen him for five years. I’d met him when I was going through a bad stage in my teens and had fallen in with the wrong crowd. He was a low level criminal, but he had a lot of contacts. He used to make it his business to know everything about everyone. I’d looked up to him for a time when I was a young and impressionable seventeen year old, until I realised that wasn’t the person that I wanted to be. That was when I decided to get my life on track and make something of myself, before it was too late. He was one of the reasons that I decided to train to be a police officer. If anyone would have an idea of how to get to Carter Thomas, it would be Julian Simms.

It rang for a long time. I was just about to give up hope when he answered. “This had better be fucking important! Do you know what time it is?” he growled sleepily. Julian didn’t run the same type of schedule that normal people did; this was probably middle of the night for him.

“Julian, I’m sorry to call you so early. It’s Ashton Taylor,” I said, letting it sink in.

There was silence on the line, obviously he was trying to place the name; it had been a long time. “Ashton? Shit, man, I haven’t heard from you in years! I heard you went over to the dark side,” he joked.

I smiled weakly. “Sorry, but I haven’t got time for pleasantries. I need you to do something for me, it’s important. You owe me, remember? Well, I need to collect the favour,” I said sternly.

He coughed a barking, hacking cough that was caused by too many cigarettes and too many drugs. “Yeah, what do you need?” he asked.

I need to you help me save my girl from a sick son of a bitch. “I need you to find someone for me. Or, at the very least, someone who works for someone,” I answered, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

“Who?”

“Carter Thomas.”

He gasped. “I can’t help you, I’m sorry.” His voice was gruff, he actually sounded a little scared.

“Julian, you fucking owe me, you know you do! I saved your life. Just get me anyone, anyone that works for him so I can get the information myself if you can’t find Thomas,” I growled, the frustration leaking into my voice now. I grabbed my bag and headed out of my apartment and downstairs, immediately hailing a cab heading to the airport.

“You don’t want to find him, Ashton. Seriously, whatever you want him for, it’s not important enough to find him for it,” he replied, sounding terrified.

I snorted at that comment. “It’s important enough, trust me. Find him and call me back. I’m serious; I’m calling in my favour.” I hung up and closed my eyes as the cab sped me to the airport. I called ahead and booked the first flight they had, but I still had to wait almost two hours. At least I would be there with the other agents, so if they got any leads I would be able to go with them, if Julian came up with nothing.

I couldn’t settle down. I was pacing back and forth, trying to think of any other way I could find her before he hurt her. I’d promised her that he’d never hurt her again – but what if he already had? Had I already broken my promise to her? The pain of thinking about it was torture. My whole body was tight with stress. The helpless, useless feeling was killing me slowly. My Baby Girl was in danger and there was nothing I could do about it.

Just as I was about to board my plane, my phone rang. It was Julian. “Tell me good news, man,” I begged as I answered it.

“Ashton, are you sure you want to do this?” he checked.

“Just give me the fucking information, I’m about to board a plane,” I snapped angrily.

He sighed. “Okay, well, I couldn’t find out much about his whereabouts, but a friend of a friend has just been hired by him. He was bragging in a bar the other day that he’d been hired by Carter Thomas to retrieve something important. Apparently they’ve been hauled up in Arizona for the last few weeks, looking for something, but they couldn’t find it. Apparently they were stationed in some abandoned factory on Western Ambrose,” he said.

Arizona. Looking for something. Holy shit, this is it! Western Ambrose, I repeated it over and over in my head, committing it to memory. “Okay, what’s the guy’s name?” I asked curiously. I needed to find this guy, talk to him, find out anything and see if this ‘thing’ they were looking for was Anna. If it was, then maybe I could find out where they were planning on taking her. I just prayed that he would still be at this factory. I just needed to find the guy, get the information, and then I could pass it on to the relevant people.

“Justin Morrison. Asshole apparently, real nasty piece of work. He told the whole bar about him and Carter Thomas being like best pals apparently. Maybe you could get Carter’s location from him,” Julian suggested hesitantly.

“Thanks. I gotta go get my plane. If I need anything else I’ll call you, okay,” I muttered, disconnecting the call, not giving him the chance to say no.

I didn’t call the White House; they wouldn’t exactly approve of the way I was going to get Carter Thomas’s whereabouts out of this guy who worked for him, breach of human rights and all that shit. Once I had more information, I would call them so we could move on Carter and get my girl back.

I called my new captain and told him I wasn’t coming in for the next few days, and that I had an emergency I needed to get sorted out. As I expected, he was less than happy about it, but there wasn’t much else I could do, and I didn’t care anyway. Nothing else was important apart from Anna.

 

By the time the plane landed, I felt sick. It was almost three in the afternoon, so she’d been missing for hours now. He could have done anything to her. I got the first cab I could to Western Ambrose and had the cabbie drive me the length of the street.

“Do you know of an old abandoned factory along this road?” I asked the driver, holding him out an extra twenty.

He pocketed it and smiled gratefully. “Well, there are two; one’s an office building really, the other one used to be a sewing factory years ago,” he replied, raising his eyebrows curiously. I made him drive back down the road and point them out to me before I got out and headed across the street to get a better vantage point. I needed to make the sweep as quick as possible.

I quickly called Julian again. “Hey, man, did you say it was definitely an abandoned factory and not an abandoned office building?” I asked curiously. I didn’t want to go into the wrong building and scare off this Justin Morrison guy. I needed him alive so I could beat the information out of him as to where Anna might be.

“Yeah, that’s what my friend said,” he confirmed. “Ashton, do you need some help?” he asked, sounding like he was hoping I would say no. I didn’t think he would want to go against Carter Thomas at all, but I knew he would if I asked him to. A favour was classed as a debt to people like Julian; he would repay it to the best of his ability. I’d saved his life once when we were younger; he still owed me for that.

“Not at the moment, but thanks. I gotta go.” I disconnected the call and pushed my cell back into my pocket before checking my ankle holster and pushing my other gun down the back of my jeans, covering it with my T-shirt. Next, I slipped my knife into my belt and pushed four extra clips into my pocket before casually walking over to the building, pretending to walk past.

I stopped to tie my shoe outside the door, sitting on the steps and looked around; no one was there so I slipped in. The fact that the door was unlocked made my heart leap, I was sure I was in the right place. This guy Morrison had to be here somewhere, I just prayed he knew where she was.

As soon as I was off the street, I pulled my gun from the waistband of my jeans and slipped an extra clip there instead in case I needed to reload quickly. I made my way through the building, keeping my back to the wall, checking each room for signs of him.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of a walkie-talkie up ahead, so I froze. My eyes narrowed. Why the hell would someone have a walkie-talkie? Without hesitation, I slipped round the corner and put my gun to the back of the guy’s head.

“What’s your name?” I asked angrily.

He stood there, shocked. “Elliot.”

Elliot? I frowned. So where was this Justin Morrison guy then? Maybe there was more than one of them assigned here to find this ‘something important’. “Turn around,” I ordered, pushing the gun harder into the back of his head as a warning. As he slowly turned to face me, I eyed the rest of the room. He was alone. “Where is Carter Thomas?” I asked, watching his face for signs that would give him away.

“Who the hell are you?” His voice was tight. He knew him.

“Where is Annabelle Spencer?” I asked, pressing the gun to his forehead. He flinched. He definitely knew.

He didn’t answer, but his eyes flicked over my shoulder. I spun around to see a guy with a gun advancing on me from behind. I dropped to my knees and shot the guy coming in behind me just as he shot where my chest was a second ago.

I pulled my knife from the waistband of my jeans and grabbed the guy named Elliot, slamming him against the wall, pressing my knife against his throat. “Where is she?” I growled angrily.

He didn’t answer, but his walkie-talkie started going crazy.

“Elliot? Tannor? What the hell’s going on? Were those gunshots?” the walkie-talkie crackled.

“I don’t know, secure her upstairs, I’ll go check it out,” another guy answered on the line.

Secure her upstairs. Holy shit, she’s here? Anna’s here in this building? Happiness tried to bubble up inside, but I pushed it down. I still had a long way to go and I needed to focus.

“Where is she? Which room?” I asked, grabbing his walkie-talkie from his belt and clipping it on mine instead.

“Fuck you!” he spat.

I pushed the blade of my knife harder against his throat, watching as a thin line of red appeared. “No, fuck you! You’re going to tell me, or you’re going to bleed to death,” I growled angrily.

He sneered at me; he wasn’t going to tell me. I pulled away slightly; I would just knock him out for now, just to take him out of the equation, I didn’t want to waste time tying him up or anything. If Anna was in this building, then I needed to hurry. Obviously they knew I was here because they’d heard the gunshots, so I had no time to waste. When I moved, Elliot went for his gun. Before he could grab it, I reacted instinctively, slashing the blade across his throat, cutting deep. He clutched at his throat as he slumped to the floor, gasping for breath as he bled out. I didn’t bother to wait until he was dead; I turned and made my way out of the room. She was upstairs somewhere, but this freaking place was enormous.

I knew I should call for backup, but I didn’t have time. If they knew I was here then they could move her and then I’d lose her again. I couldn’t take that chance.

I walked up a flight of stairs slowly, keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any signs of life. I saw movement ahead and spotted a guy crouched at the top of the stairs. He hadn’t seen me yet, so I moved across the hall, hiding against a doorway to gain a better angle. I closed one eye and shot him straight in the head, suddenly wishing I had a silencer on my gun so that they wouldn’t hear where I was.

Shifting my bag over my shoulder, I made my way quickly up to the next flight of stairs. If there were guys here then I needed to follow them to lead me to Anna. Another guy turned and leant out of the doorway, firing off a few rounds at me.

I pressed back around the corner, letting him shoot off a couple of shots as I grabbed my extra clip from my pocket. When his shots paused, I leant around the corner, shooting off a couple of rounds before changing my clip quickly but dropping the dead one on the floor on purpose. “Shit,” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear. My plan worked. He stepped out of his little hiding place, obviously thinking I was having trouble reloading and that he could take advantage of it. As soon as he stepped out of this cover, I shot him twice, going for the kill shot. I didn’t care about any of these guys; they were a threat to Anna so they needed to die.

Okay, Taylor, keep going. Four down, probably loads more to go!

As I pressed on up the hallway, Elliot’s walkie-talkie crackled to life on my belt. “I don’t know where they are, there must be more than one guy. Elliot and Tanner are dead, and I’ve heard a lot more shots since then.”

I smiled; I could definitely use that to my advantage if they thought there was more than one of me.

I stopped when I heard whispering around the corner. Pressing myself against the wall, I reached into my shoulder bag and pulled out the little mirror I’d brought from my SWAT kit. I positioned it so I could look around the corner to see who was there. There were two guys talking in whispers, looking around desperately; one of them was running his hand through his hair nervously. Both were armed, but from the way their guns were hanging loosely at their sides, I knew that they had no idea how close to me they were. I shifted and dropped to one knee as I rounded the corner, shooting them both dead instantly.

I was on the move again. Further up the hall there was a large, expansive room. My eyes widened as I peeked around the corner, checking it was empty. Shit, this isn’t going to be an easy room to cross! There were desks everywhere, giving so many places for people to hide. I frowned and looked at the door on the opposite side, knowing I needed to get to the stairs on the other side. This side of the building was now clear, so she had to be somewhere over there. How the hell am I going to cross this room on my own? There was no possible way I could cover all of my hotspots and my back would be exposed. But there was no other choice.

I reloaded my gun and stepped tentatively into the room. Silently, I berated myself for not calling for backup. I knew I didn’t have time to wait for them, but I should have at least sent someone a message to let them know where I was. I still would have had to move in on my own, but at least they would be aware of her whereabouts if I’d sent that message. If I died right now, they would have no idea. Clearly I had let my emotions get the better of me. I made a mental note to send a message to one of the agents as soon as I made it across the room.

There was a rustle of movement to my right. I flicked around too late, and a guy smashed my gun out of my hand, breaking one of my fingers at the same time. Before I knew it, there was movement from all sides; I knew I needed to move quickly.

I lunged forward and punched one of them in the throat; I gripped his hair and smashed his face into my knee, knocking him unconscious. Before he even hit the floor, another guy stepped out, pointing a gun at me. I grabbed my knife from my waistband and threw it into his chest. I turned to my right, readying myself as another one stepped forward. I knew that move would leave my back exposed, but I had no choice. I punched him in the face, gripped the back of his head and crashed it against one of the desks, just as another guy came from behind and hit me on the back of the head with something hard, knocking me out cold. I didn’t even have time to feel it before I was unconscious.

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