Chapter Nine

“I’m going to the Gulf tomorrow,” Mae said simply as she finished clearing off her desk for Donna to move into it tomorrow. Today was her last day on the floor, and she’d spent most of it moving her stuff to a new office upstairs.

“What?” Jason straightened from the desk he was leaning on. Thoughts about the USB drive came screaming into his head at a riotous pace. He still hadn’t figured out what the bad guys wanted with a clone of their servers—most likely documents—but he couldn’t help but think about the digital calendars and travel itineraries on it.

“Mrs. French said to do it. I’m going with the law team and Karen, the account rep who’s in charge of Chase Oil, one of the major players in this fracking stuff. I’m to help take depositions and visit with the CEO, who’s being uncooperative, hence meeting with him on the oil rig and not any of our offices. Basically, I’m following Karen around and learning some of the ropes.” She shrugged, even though he could see nerves lying under the nonchalant surface. He didn’t like how it was sprung on her, and he knew with a new promotion and her people-pleasing attitude, she wouldn’t want to say no.

“Why so last-minute?” Jason’s eyes were edged with alarm, his hands fisted at his sides.

Mae shrugged again. “Karen is the account rep I’m training under, and she is of the opinion I should do this. I’m worried it will be a wasted trip, though, because the man we’re supposed to be meeting is being very specific and it seems like a blow-off of some sort. He keeps talking about his busy schedule, and the only time we can do this is when he’s on his rig filming some sort of propaganda thing about how safe and happy everybody is, how amazing the off-shore oil industry is, stuff like that.”

“So you’re doing this because the boss said so.” Jason knew he was being overprotective, but he couldn’t help it. The douchebag inside of him spoke up. “I don’t like it. I’ll talk to him. There should be safety measures in place.”

Mae laughed at his seriousness. “Like what? The law department and account execs aren’t heads of state, Jason. Are you going to go as our bodyguard?”

Between clenched teeth, he answered, “I might.” It would make him feel better, at any rate.

**

The helicopter ride to the oil rig had been uneventful yet nerve-wracking. Mae had never flown in anything before, and after a plane ride to Houston, a short drive to Galveston, and a helicopter ride from there, she was frazzled. In her mind, humans weren’t meant to fly, and probably just … shouldn’t. But watching the aqua-blue of the water as it stretched around her for miles was soothing, as long as she kept her thoughts away from plunging to a fiery death only to be extinguished by the expanse of salty water filling her lungs.

The PR lady for the oil company, Noël, prattled on throughout most of the ride about the helicopter, the rig specifications, and all the safety features, until Mae finally just tuned her out. She didn’t really feel any safer knowing she flew in a Dolphin, a refurbished Coast Guard helicopter made by Eurocopter, with the guns taken out to make room for more people. It was still a noisy tin can. Her nerves were shot from the loud noises and lack of anything in the empty air between her and miles and miles of water.

The only thing making her feel the least bit calm was Jason’s reassuring presence next to her, as he held her hand in his. Mae had no idea how he had wrangled a ride with them but was thankful for it nonetheless.

When the helicopter dropped them off, the other one with the rest of the team landing next to them, she was no less surprised and a bit overwhelmed by the sheer foreignness of the industrial rig. It was like an alien spacecraft or something, with all the pipes leading to nowhere all over the place.

Noël seemed to sense her discomfort and promptly led them on a tour of the facilities, taking them inside, where things seemed more like a dormitory than anything else. With a massive kitchen featuring hotel-quality dining, a theater room for the rig workers to relax in, and a gym, the entire facility smelled like a locker room. Mae couldn’t have expected anything different with a hundred or more men living in such close quarters.

But the fact there were no windows where she was lent a measure of comfort, and she found herself calmed somewhat, especially when Jason slipped his hand in hers.

The deposition team had already disappeared to go do their thing, and Mae, Jason, and Karen were stuck following Noël around. Finally, Karen interrupted.

“We came to speak with Mr. Michaels. Is he available?”

“He’s on the top deck filming right now.” She smiled at them, a forced grin that made her face look weird. “Mr. Michaels told me to keep you guys entertained until he’s finished.” She looked at her watch. “Which should be about thirty minutes or so. You want to see what the cook has lying around?”

Helplessly, they followed her back to the dining hall, where there was a variety of snacks laid out: fruit, muffins wrapped in cellophane, and bags of chips, among other assorted items.

Mae sank into a chair to wait. She was feeling out of sorts. This whole trip had been sprung on her at the last minute, and here she was, waiting.

She was trying to be upbeat since it was a new experience for her. The idea of traveling for her new job had been exciting, but the shine on the experience was dulled by the undoubtable brush-off by the CEO who was too busy with his promo video to meet with them.

He was the one being sued. They were working for his lawyers to try to collect the documentation necessary to get him off the hotplate. Their office had already been targeted, presumably because of him. Shouldn’t he be more accommodating?

Meanwhile, Jason sat next to her, drumming his hand on his thigh while his foot bounced. He seemed on edge, too.

When a low, thumping noise like a helicopter landing sounded, Mae’s skin prickled. When it was followed by what could be mistaken for gunshots, goose bumps erupted. When the yelling began, she gripped Jason’s arm.

“What’s going on?” she asked the PR lady, who looked confused.

“I’m not sure.”

They listened to the chaos outside for a few minutes, when Noël said, “You wait here, I’ll go see what’s happening.” Her voice didn’t sound nearly as confident as her words, but Jason, Mae, and the senior account rep, Karen, nodded.

Noël had gotten halfway to the doorway when she froze before her body dropped to the floor. Mae was coated in a fine spray of red before she registered what had happened. That was about the time Karen screamed as a masked man entered the room

“Are any of you Jason Everly and Mae Torma?” His voice was heavily accented, but Mae had no idea where he was from.

Jason froze next to her, tugging her behind him, but she must have made some sign or gesture of affirmation because the next thing she knew, Karen’s head disappeared in a blur of red and Mae buried her face in Jason’s back.

“Follow me. The boss wants to meet you.” His gun looked more than menacing as it was trained on them, and Mae knew it was loaded and lethal. She had a mist of warm blood across her arm, but she couldn’t look at it. Choking back horror, she clutched Jason’s shirt as she followed him.

Down a narrow corridor and up some stairs, Jason reached back and clutched Mae’s hand in his reassuring grip. She tried to find comfort in it, but it was hard with the noises of gunshots and yelling everywhere. She passed a room with about twenty men in it, hands raised, eyes on five gunmen with their weapons trained on them.

No one spoke as they passed evidence of a serious hostage situation, in which they were totally embroiled. Men were everywhere, subdued on their knees, while gunmen kept wicked-looking firearms aimed at them. Mae was trying to wrap her head around it, but it insisted on going back to that night under her desk, where she’d been alone watching the orange tennis shoe guy.

Her heart in her throat, she clenched her eyes shut, swallowing hard as she blindly followed Jason to a plush room with a sofa, flat screen TV, and a full bar.

The CEO was there, spluttering something about all this nonsense, with a camera man, makeup artist, and another dead lady in the corner. More men in black had guns pointed in his direction.

When Jason and Mae entered the room, one of the men smiled at them.

It was such a juxtaposition in the situation.

While everyone else wore grim expressions, or held faces of fear, this silver-headed man with a neat goatee actually smiled at them like they were old friends.

“Ah … Jason, son, and your lady friend … Come in. Come in.” It was like he’d invited them for tea or something. So fucking weird.

He motioned for them to sit, and they did, awkwardly, since neither of them were letting go of the other.

“We were just about to make a video.” The man turned back to the CEO, who was a barrel-chested man with blond and silver streaked hair and too much pancake makeup. “Go ahead. Read into the camera what I gave you.”

The CEO swallowed, then began, staring into the camera with wide eyes.

“Hello, I’m Jim Chase, CEO of Chase Oil, on Trinity rig in the Gulf of Mexico. I, along with one hundred and twenty people, am being held hostage by an unknown terrorist. There is a bomb on board the rig, and one man has the chance to disarm it. If he succeeds, I will come back with demands. If he fails, we all blow up.”

He gave one last meaningful look to the camera, and the cameraman switched it off, swinging the piece from his shoulder before they all turned to the silver-headed maniac.

“You put a bomb on this rig?” Mae could feel the tension radiating off Jason, even as she looked over his shoulder at the man. “Who are you?”

A bright smile totally incongruous to the situation flashed at Jason, and Mae’s stomach dropped.

“My dear boy … I’m your father.”