Chapter Eighteen
Rand hefted himself up the electric pole with nothing more than a thick climber’s sling.
The red light mocked him.
Someone was watching the Collins’ house, and Rand was willing to bet it was the same people who’d stolen Sarah from him.
Cold rage narrowed his field of vision to that last two feet of space.
The sky was light enough that he could see the camera plainly…and the transmitter perched atop the pole.
Bless the Collinses for turning into nosy neighbors. Sarah’s dad had remarked to Matt about so much work being done on the power lines yesterday. It was too coincidental. Sure enough, the cameras in the house and the transmitter posted on the electric pole were dead giveaways.
“You just about got it,” Andy called up to him.
Yeah, fuckface, I can see that.
Rand grunted and hauled himself up a little farther before dragging the sling up the post. Once it was high enough, he allowed his weight to settle in the sling, testing it a bit at a time until it held him firmly in place.
“Got it?” Andy paced back and forth. They’d identified the cameras on first pass. Neither of them could approach the house without being caught onscreen. Even the most distant lines to the house eventually wound up crossing paths with other cameras.
Rand wished they didn’t need to waste time this way, but they had no other leads. There was no way to track Sarah or the people who’d taken her. Right now, their best bet was to take the transmitter and figure out where it was sending to. Hopefully, that would lead them to Sarah.
He shrugged the bag on his back off one shoulder until he could get a hand into it.
Andy was the guy to go to when gadgets were needed, and he’d come through this time, too. If Rand could position the piggybacking transmitter to the one set up on the pole…they could track whoever was watching the Collins’ house and hopefully find Sarah. Alive.
Rand had to tell himself she was still out there. That he’d get the chance to tell her he loved her. That she was the reason he’d taken the job with the company in the first place, that he was fast losing sight of his priorities because of her.
If Sarah was gone… He couldn’t fathom a world without her in it. Without her poking and prodding him, without her smiles or laughter. He had to find her.
That they could still find her floating face down in the ocean, or not at all. Nope. Couldn’t go there.
“Be very, very careful. You have to get the connections just right.”
“Shut up, Andy.”
Did he want to wake up the whole neighborhood?
People would be up and moving any moment. His parents included, and that was not a conversation he wanted to have right now. How the hell was he going to explain being on the same continent, much less on the street outside their house? With any luck, they were still snug in bed like all the rest of the people, save Matt’s family.
Rand shook the cords free of the transmitter and grasped the end.
One wrong move, and he’d knock it off-line, then the Chinese would know they were on to them. This had to be done very carefully, and here he was hanging by a nylon loop. It all came down to being as careful as possible. No mistakes, no slipping, no nudges.
“Come on, man,” Andy said.
Rand pinched the alligator clip open and stared at the transmitter, the exposed wires. It was a hack job, but likely something they’d done as fast as possible. It wasn’t like they’d had any more time to set this up than Rand had to escape them.
He held his breath and eased the clamp around the wires on one side. There. One side done.
The other side was trickier. He needed to lean forward, which would throw off his balance in the sling.
Rand wrapped his arm around and over the pole, squeezing with his knees. The sling went slack, hanging uselessly down around his thighs. He’d have cursed if he had the breath.
He reached around, aware of the hum of the electrical wires. If he touched the wrong thing he’d be a fried turkey.
“Easy, easy, easy,” Andy chanted.
Rand’s muscles screamed. He managed to get a hold of the other clamp. His hands were sweaty, his fingers slipping a bit.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He worked his knees up a little farther to give him more room. His jeans slid across the worn wooden surface, and he slipped down nearly a whole foot before the sling grabbed the pole and he jerked to a stop.
The transmitter, their piggybacking device, and the camera clattered to the street below, smashing into a hundred tiny pieces.
“No,” Andy whisper-wailed.
Rand grasped the electrical pole, staring at the bits spread out on the asphalt. That’d been their only hope. The only way they knew how to track down Sarah.
Rand worked his way down the pole. Now what did they do? Noah was doing what he could. They couldn’t trust their handlers, even Hector. Someone had sold Sarah out from the beginning and he could no longer make allowances for people who might be on the take. Even Noah and Andy were a risk.
By the time Rand reached the ground, his arms and legs were jelly. He sat on the curb behind the car Andy had picked him up in and stared at the bits of the transmitter.
“I knew I should have gone up there.” Andy shook his head.
“Andy, shut the hell up.”
“I’m just saying—”
Rand stood and swung, clocking his friend in the jaw. It felt good to hit something, better that it was Andy’s flapping mouth.
Andy staggered back, one hand cradling his face, fire in his eyes.
Fuck. Rand shouldn’t have done that.
Andy’s gaze flicked over Rand’s shoulder. “Get down.” Andy crouched behind the fender of the car, peering toward the house at the corner of the street diagonal from them.
Rand ducked and turned.
“Movement. Neighbor’s yard.”
“It could be Mr. Neilson, he’s an early riser.”
“Nope. Radio your friend.”
A slim figure dressed in dark colors slid from between the big, well-manicured hedges. Rand, Matt, and Sarah had played in, around, and under them as kids, much to the horror of Mr. Neilson.
He picked up the radio from where he’d left it on the sidewalk and pressed the button. “Matt, you’ve got incoming. North side of the house. Looks like he’s headed for the basement window. Move into position and hold.”
“Copy,” Matt replied.
The radio chirped softly and died. They’d go silent until otherwise noted.
“I’ll go around to the back. You watch the front.” Rand slid his holster back over his shoulders.
Now that the cameras were off-line, he wouldn’t have to worry about staying out of the frame. He waited a second longer than necessary before sprinting for the other side of the house, leaving Andy to watch the street for backup.
How many times had he made this same jog to go see Matt and catch a glimpse of Sarah?
Now, he’d have to hope he could save her life.
Rand skirted the house and let himself into the backyard. Ideally, Matt would hold position on the stairs until Rand flanked their guy and Andy followed the same path as the would-be murderer. It made sense the Chinese would use Sarah’s family against her, and this guy was their go-to.
He cut across the patio and peered around the corner. Andy was at the other end, watching for him. Rand signaled with his free hand.
In unison, they both crept forward.
Shit. Boxes were piled in front of the rear window. Rand moved up behind Andy, who signaled for him to go first.
Figured. That was probably for the punch.
Rand went to a knee. The basement was dark, quiet, but every so often he heard a bit of sound. The guy was a pro, that was for sure. He’d slipped in fast. Rand hoped to be half as quiet, but his size was going to work against him.
He went to a knee, gun aimed to where he saw a flash of light, and dropped his leg down to the work table below. The sturdy old thing didn’t budge or squeak under his weight, but he did grunt a little, fitting through the window casing.
Matt was a darker bit of shadow in the stair alcove, just out of sight.
Rand made it inside, Andy behind him. They moved forward, Matt sticking to the left wall, Andy the right, and Rand coming up between the wine rack and junk shelves.
The same slender man stood with his back toward them, a light aimed at the wall.
“Hands where I can see them,” Rand said, hoping the guy had a decent grasp of English because his Mandarin sucked.
The build was all wrong for Wei, so Rand had to assume this was someone else. Someone expendable.
The man’s hands came up slowly.
What the hell was he doing?
“Rand.” The tone of Matt’s voice, that high pitch at the end, couldn’t be good.
Andy lunged forward, grabbing the guy by the arm and shoving his gun up against his head.
“Shit. Matt, get everyone out.” Rand holstered his weapon.
“I’ve got him,” Andy said.
Matt’s footsteps pounded up the stairs.
The green blinking light on the detonator attached to the gas line wasn’t what Rand wanted to see. The device was already halfway off the line.
Fuck this.
Rand grabbed the explosive and yanked it off, tape ripping. He took three long strides and jerked the detonator free from the C4, throwing it through the open window. In the split second between activation and detonation, he folded his body around the C4 and ducked. The electrical blast was weaker than the backfire of a car.
Someone grunted behind him.
A wine bottle hit the ground and shattered, splashing them all with liquid. He stood and turned, just in time for Andy to stumble into him.
Rand pushed Andy aside and dropped the now dead C4 onto the floor. Without a detonator, it was little more than Play-Doh. He didn’t dare draw his weapon with the children upstairs, no matter that Matt might have gotten them out just fine.
The would-be bomber stood between the wine rack and the shelves, poised for a fight.
Matt grabbed the junk rack and yanked. The thing had always been a little rickety.
The top boxes spilled down, two hitting the man squarely in the head and shoulders.
Rand charged forward, tackled the man to the ground, and pinned him with his greater weight.
“Where’s Sarah?” He wrapped a hand around the man’s throat and squeezed.
“Easy, not all at once. You want him to suffer a little.” Glass scraped across the floor and Andy sighed. “That was a good bottle of wine, too.”
“Where the fuck is Sarah?” Rand asked again.
“He’s not going to tell you shit, man. Look at that face.” Andy crouched next to Rand. “That’s the face of a guy who don’t give a damn. Here. Get his wrists, then I’ll turn out his pockets.”
Rand used the zip ties to bind the man’s wrists and ankles, leaving him hogtied in the mess they’d made. He sat back on his heels while Andy searched his pockets, finding a phone, keys, and a few other odds and ends.
“Jackpot.” Andy wiggled the phone at Rand.
“You think you can find them using that?”
“I know I can.”
Footsteps thumped on the stairs.
“It’s me,” Matt announced. He rounded the corner, hands on his hips. “Emily, the kids, Mom, and Dad are on the road. What’s next?”
“You follow them,” Rand said.
“Oh, no, I’m not leaving.” Her in your hands…
Matt didn’t say it, and there was even a clear period at the end of the sentence, but Rand still heard the words.
“Just a thought,” Andy said. “We need all the warm bodies we can trust holding guns that won’t be pointed our way, so…” He shrugged.
Rand’s new phone vibrated. He’d dumped the last one first thing after the shock of Sarah’s abduction wore off. He could count on one hand the people who had the number.
He recognized Noah’s number on sight. Rand had called Noah for assistance before he could truly think through what was going on.
Noah could still be reporting back to Hector, and they had no idea if he could be trusted.
“Yeah?” Rand pressed the phone to his ear and stood.
“Tell me you’ve got something, man. I’m turning over a lot of rocks with nothing under them.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? Maybe what?”
“We’ve got a lead.”
“Awesome. What can I do?”
“Don’t tell anyone. Hang tight, and wait.”
“Copy that.”
Rand ended the call.
Andy glanced up, his gaze boring into him. “You’ve got to trust someone,” he said.
“Can we trust Noah?”
“I’d pick him over you.”
“Fuck you.” Rand flipped Andy the bird.
“What the hell are we doing?” Matt asked.
“You’re cooling your heels while I figure out where our silent ninja friend here’s been. Someone called the cops yet to come pick him up?” Andy thumbed at the still wordless captive.
“I’ll do it,” Matt said.
“His last address, a commercial port on the east side of D.C.,” Andy announced.
“What?” Rand’s stomach dropped. It’d be a two-plus-hour drive this time of day.
“I’m guessing this guy was waiting pretty close, weren’t you?” Andy patted the bound man’s cheeks.
The way the guy was staring at Andy left no doubt in Rand’s mind that if he were free, Andy would for sure have something to worry about.
“We’ve got to get on the road. Now. Come on. Leave him.” Rand crossed to the stairs.
“Hold up,” Andy said.
“They’re going to know something happened. We’ve got to go.” What would the Chinese do when their cameras were no longer transmitting? When they didn’t get any sort of confirmation from the guy they sent in? Was Sarah dead?
“Noah has a speedboat, dumbass. He’s headed to the marina and will meet us—wherever that place is. Here. You’re local. Where are we going?” Andy thrust the phone at Matt.
“Twenty-minute drive, easy, but we need to go now before the school zones back up.”
“You call the police?”
“Already did.”
“You got more than that little toy gun?” Andy gestured to the Glock holstered at Matt’s hip.
“No, not with the kids around.”
“Well, good thing Noah travels with an arsenal. Only time his neo-Nazi gig has been good for anything.” Andy gestured toward the stairs. “Lead the way.”
Rand hated leaving the guy hogtied on the basement floor, but they had to. He didn’t want to kill someone if he didn’t have to, but letting him live was also a risk. They’d have to send the CIA after him once they had Sarah back. After another quick pat-down to remove anything else from the intruder, they exited the house out the front door.
“Are we doing the right thing?” Rand pitched his voice low, for only Andy’s ears. He was compromised. His priorities were fucked up. The only thing that mattered was Sarah. Not the case, not anyone else—just Sarah.
“What do you propose we do?” Andy shrugged and glanced up and down the street. Lights in houses were on now, people moving about.
“I don’t know, man. I’m just…I’m all screwed up, you know?”
“That’s because you have a case of the feelings. I had those removed a while ago. Did me good. You should look into it. Might be good for you. Caring? That’s nasty business.” Andy shook his head.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“You’re one to talk.” Andy grinned.
“Fuck you.” Rand glanced over his shoulder to Matt.
He hadn’t hesitated or paused once. Matt had just jumped in and started doing things. Rand had momentarily forgotten that Matt didn’t have a freaking hand. For the span of however long it’d taken them to get out, it’d been like old times. And now Matt was following Rand into a death match.
“What’s our priority? If we can’t do both, what should we aim for?”
“Sarah.”
“You sure about that?”
“Positive. She’s not like us.”
“She’s exactly like us, man. That’s the point.” Andy peered across the car at him. “She knew what she was signing up for. If our priority has to be the case, she’ll understand.”
“I won’t.”
Because that was the crux of it all. Somewhere between Seoul and D.C., Sarah had become the most important thing on his mental list. Maybe she’d always been there. Maybe he was just now realizing it. Now the only thing that mattered was getting Sarah back, with or without the briefcase. She just had to hold out a little while longer.
…
“What did you do?” Sarah’s strained voice reverberated off the metal. The last image of her brother pacing the living room was seared into her brain. “You killed them?” She stared at Wang Ping’s slack face.
Whatever happened on the other end of that camera wasn’t supposed to. He turned his back on her and pressed the phone to his ear.
“You killed them. I’m not telling you a goddamn thing.” She yanked against the zip ties holding her to the chair. “Do you hear me? You can burn in hell before I tell you a single fucking thing.”
Matt. Emily. The kids. Mom. Dad. They were dead because of her. Because she’d thought she was doing this great, big thing. And all she was doing was playing in the deep end of a pool she couldn’t swim in. And for what? A paycheck and a pat on the head?
A sob shook her.
Ping’s muttered voice carried through the room. She sucked down a breath and held it to keep from uttering another noise. “Pick up the phone. Where are you?” Ping said.
She twisted to try to see him. Was it Wei? She could only hope that he’d died, too. At least then the world would be a little safer.
God, Jonah was going to be one soon. Or would have been. Now he’d never grow up. Matt wouldn’t get to be the football dad he’d always wanted to be. Jillian would never draw on the walls again, but even that was endearing. She was such a happy, boisterous child, always wanting to make others smile. Just like Emily. They brought life and love everywhere they went.
And now, they were gone. Sarah slumped forward, the grief still too new to sink in.
A pair of black leather boots were there that hadn’t been before. She lifted her gaze, staring up at Wei watching her. She hadn’t even heard him come in.
“Your family is fine. You do your part.” He slid the pen and paper toward her.
Anger slowly began to bubble up inside of her. These people didn’t bat an eyelash at killing something so pure, so good as a child. All they wanted was…what? A few names? Some secrets?
“I can’t really do anything.” She lifted her hands as far as they would go and wiggled her fingers.
“The code?” Wei lifted the pen.
“You know it’s biometric, right? I can give you the codes, but without my cooperation, you can’t access the case.” Of course, they could drug her, knock her out, and then they wouldn’t need her to play nice.
“You can’t fake your thumbprint, but you can key in the wrong code.”
God, she hoped Andy killed the son of a bitch someday. Maybe not now, or tomorrow, but someday she hoped Andy made good on his claim to put Wei down.
“Fine. Ready?” She ran her tongue over her lip. They had no way of knowing if she was telling them the truth. It was a catch-22. They needed her to tell them the real codes, but they had no bargaining power now. Nothing to ensure she was telling them the truth.
Wei picked up the pen.
“T.I.K.C.U.S. Before noon, it’s reversed, so you’ll have to flip it.”
Wei’s brows drew down.
How good was his English?
His head snapped up, and his lip curled.
Yeah, that’s right. Suck it. “I will never tell you the codes.” She glared right back.
Before this moment, she hadn’t had faith that she could withstand their worst, but now she could. The burst of light that’d erupted on one side of the camera before the signal cut out was enough to tell her that the worst had happened. Someone had screwed up. Her family was dead because of her and Ping had no leverage on her. She’d die before she gave them what they wanted.
Wei stalked out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
Her hands shook and the anger left her cold, empty inside. This was all her fault. Because of her, her family had paid the ultimate price. Now, if it was the last thing she did, she wanted to see Ping and Wei pay. She wanted them to go down, no matter what.
She twisted her hands and dragged the zip tie binding her wrists to the front of her chair back and forth. It might take time, but she would break through the thing and then, well, they shouldn’t have left her in the room with the briefcase alone.
She still had Irene’s camera.
The best-case scenario she could see was getting free, snapping the pictures, then destroying the contents.
After that, Rand wouldn’t need to come after her. Everyone that mattered would be safe. They’d have the protocols, the country, and the world could go on in bliss, and she…would likely die. But at this rate, that was what she deserved.
Now she understood Rand’s drive, the push that kept him going because the innocents depended on him. His family and hers survived because he kept his distance.
Had his North Korean assets ever made it out of the country? Were they safe? What about their children?
She hadn’t thought to ask, and now she’d never know.
Footsteps thumped, coming closer.
“Shit,” she muttered. Sarah relaxed her arms and sat back, blowing her hair out of her face.
The door opened and both men returned, this time with a third. They must have had reinforcements somewhere as backup because these were not the bureaucrats she was familiar with. This man, like the others who’d handled her transport, were professionals. It was evident in the way they moved, how they followed orders, even the cool way they stared at her.
“Put her in the cell for now.” Ping’s gaze was cool, detached.
Wei pulled out a knife and stepped toward her. His gaze traveled from head to toe. He seemed to be considering where to put the knife first.
Sarah forced herself to stare back. To show as little fear as she could.
That man would enjoy killing her. There was no doubt in her soul that he took joy in that sort of thing. It was in the depths of his eyes, the way he clenched his fists. When he came for her, it would hurt. A lot. But she’d rather die than tell them the codes now.
He leaned forward and sliced through the tie binding her wrists to the chair. The thicker, plastic restraints were still around her wrists, but she was free of the chair.
Wei grabbed her by the back of her jacket and hauled her to her feet. Her legs were still a touch rubbery. She fell forward, bracing her hands on the table.
The briefcase was so close. She could—
Wei shoved her at the third man. He didn’t speak; he merely grasped her by the shoulders and marched her out of the room. The vibrations of her shoes hitting the metal felt weird against her feet. Her jeans were too abrasive. The sounds echoing in the ship were too loud.
Her family was dead.
It was all too sudden. It hardly felt real. But she’d seen the blast. The flash of light. It wasn’t like the cameras would catch the blaze, the carnage. The signal would go out when the blast happened more than likely.
Someone might have survived.
But the living room, it was right over the place where the camera had been focused on the gas line.
Everyone had been in the living room.
They wouldn’t stand a chance with a blast from below.
The man shoved her through a door. Her foot caught on the lip sticking up from the ground and she pitched forward into the semi-darkness, landing hard on her hands and knees. She briefly considered getting up, but what was the point?
Sarah sat down on her bottom, pulling her knees up to her chest, and looped her arms around them, burying her face.
In the beginning, it’d been so simple. Do a good thing for minimal effort. No danger. No risk. She’d never questioned the self defense classes or the need to learn to shoot. Yeah, she’d gone through minimal training because she was technically a CIA employee, but it didn’t seem to mean much.
They’d said her role wouldn’t pose a danger to her family. That she’d be helping keep them safe.
Now, because of her, they were dead.
Her chest ached, it was hard to draw breath. She choked down air, the sob wracking her body.
All she wanted to do was curl up on her side and cry herself to death. If she died…they couldn’t open the case. The biometric sensor would require her exact heat reading.
By the time they figured out she ran cooler than most people, they’d have likely cooked her entirely.
Sarah laughed at this crazy, weird place she’d wound up. She wasn’t fighting for her life, she was thinking about dying. As if it were a foregone conclusion. The her of twelve hours ago would still be fighting. But that version of herself had basked in her brother’s presence and gotten to laugh with her best friend while the man she loved looked on, part of her life. Now, she didn’t have any of that.
Rand couldn’t come for her. They both couldn’t die.
“Hello?” a rasping, broken voice called out.
Sarah slapped a hand over her mouth, muting her hysterical sobs. She wasn’t alone.
“Is—is someone there?” That voice…it was almost familiar.
“Who are you?” Sarah pushed to her feet. It was well and good to get a kick out of her own fate, but the world didn’t revolve around her. There were still bigger fish to fry, other ways of getting that the Chinese wanted.
She edged deeper into the room.
There were three windows giving some light to the room. It was still mostly shadow and darkness.
She went forward slowly, her danger sense ringing.
Something wasn’t right. Part of her brain knew that voice. It didn’t sound like Rand.
Andy? The other guy, Noah? Hector?Mitch?
She peered around a room divider and gasped.
Sitting hunched in a pool of light was the broken, battered body of a man. Even in the dim light, she could make out darker splotches of color, bruises, wounds. He stared up at her from one eye, the other swollen shut. Parts of his face were recognizable, the others swollen and disfigured.
“Sarah?” He blinked at her.
“Charlie? Oh my God, Charlie!” Sarah went to her knees but stopped short of touching the man. Looking at him hurt. She couldn’t imagine what kind of pain he must be in. “They said you were dead.”
“I wish I was.” He wheezed, though maybe it was supposed to be a laugh.
“What happened? Everyone thinks you died.”
“They jumped me on the way to our meet.” He dropped his head back against the partition, as if his head was too heavy.
“Oh, Charlie, I’m so sorry.”
“Have you told them?”
“Told them what?”
“About the case?”
“They have it.”
“Fuck.” He closed his eyes. “Tell me what happened. From the beginning.”
Sarah recounted her steps from picking up the briefcase to her missed drop in Seoul. She ran through the highlight of the days since then, though they were all blurring together in her head.
“Your handler thinks we have a mole?”
“Yes. I promise you, Charlie, I had no idea.”
“I know you didn’t. You did your job.” He reached out with his hand and patted hers.
“They don’t have you tied up?”
“I’m not in any real shape to go anywhere.” He barked a laugh. It sounded painful, as though things were knocking around inside of him that weren’t supposed to touch.
“What are we going to do?” She chewed her lip. Should she tell him? “Irene said they wouldn’t send a team in after us, that we’re on our own.”
“You think your friend will try?”
“Maybe.” She glanced toward the door. “Is there any chance we could, I don’t know, try to escape?”
“We won’t get far.”
“We don’t have to get away.”
“What are you thinking of doing?” Charlie peered up at her.
“Irene gave me a mini camera. If I could get out of here and back to the briefcase, I could snap pictures of everything, then destroy the protocols.”
“They’d kill us.”
“Aren’t we already dead?”
And shouldn’t their deaths mean something?