Sheba's Gambit

by Kristine Frost

  Tony looked from Maitland to Wyatt. “I’m not working for Breckenridge.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. We can’t have you working against us.” He looked at the Marine who was holding Tony’s arm. “Put him in detention.”

  As the Marine reached his other arm, Tony pivoted, flipping the Marine over his head. Then he took a running leap, curled into a ball and flew through the window, glass shattering around him.

  As the car door slammed shut, Braden began to kick, claw, bite and scratch. When Braden’s fingers found the man’s eye, the man reared back, his fist high behind his head. Braden knew that the man was going to kill him, he was so angry.

  But just as the man’s fist moved forward, someone caught his wrist. “Cool it, Jake. Our orders are to keep the kid safe.”

  “Yeah, you can talk. You’re not back here with him. He just about put out my eye.”

  “We’re just about to the change point. He can’t get out so all you have to do is keep him in his seat.”

  Braden recognized the man who had attacked them at Universal Studios. “I know you.” He said. “You hurt my aunt in Florida.”

  “Do you want to keep your aunt safe, now?” Slater asked quietly, keeping his eyes on the road.

  “I don’t want you to hurt her.”

  “My orders are to keep both of you safe. I won’t hurt you if calm down.” He slowed down as the speed limit changed. Then he signaled for a right turn.

  “We’re near the drop point,” he said to the man in the back seat. “Follow the plan.”

  “Okay,” Jake said sullenly. “I drive and you deal with the kid, right?”

  Slater pulled in to a parking lot near Royal Mint Street. He parked next to a white van that said Royal Mint Florists. Reaching under the seat, he pulled out a bottle of bleach. “I’ll take the kid. You spray down the car. We don’t want the bobbies finding our DNA.”

  Slater pulled Braden out of the car. Casually, he walked him to the other van. Opening the side door, he said, “Do I tie and gag you or will you behave yourself”

  “I’ll be good.” Braden said slowly. He was deathly afraid of Michael Slater, his squeenchy eyes and bald head.

  “Smart move. I figured from watching you and your aunt that you both had brains. I’m going to cuff your leg to the seat, just in case, you change your mind, but you can sit on the seat and look out if you don’t wave. If you do, I’ll wrap you with duct tape, wind you in the sheet and throw you in the back like a sack of dirty laundry.” He fastened Braden’s seat belt.

  “Yes, sir,” Braden said trying to hide his fear.

  Without looking at the other car or Jake, he climbed in the van. He was turning on to the A100 when the van they had been riding in burst into a fiery ball.

  “What happened,” Braden asked, his face even whiter than it had been.

  Slater shrugged. “Jake must have done something stupid. He probably didn’t open the windows before he sprayed the car. Bleach is highly explosive.”

  Braden frowned, but didn’t say anything. I didn’t know bleach was explosive. I thought you used it for cleaning toilets.

  As they crossed the Thames on Tower Bridge, Braden said, “Mr. Slater, have you been on that huge Ferris wheel by the Thames?”

  “The Ferris wheel they call “The Eye”? I have. It’s cool. Have you been on it?”

  “No. My Mom gets super sick on carnival rides. Aunt Sheba was going to take me, but I probably won’t ever get to go now.”

  “Sure you will, kid. I told you that you’ll be safe as long as you behave yourself. I won’t hurt a kid. My sister would kill me.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “Yeah. You rescued her. You remember Helen, the blind lady in Orlando.” He turned on to the A200.

  Braden nodded. “Where are we?”

  “We’re in South London, Surrey County.”

  “Oh,” Braden said again. “Where are we going?”

  “Mr. Breckenridge lives in Kent at Wrotham.”

  An hour later, Slater turned into a private road. He stopped at the gates, pressing a button on a panel. Two men dressed in black came out of the huge pillars that held up the gates. They were carrying AK47’s. They opened the doors to the van. After they had examined the interior of the van, one of the men stepped back, shut the doors, and said, “He’s waiting for you.”

  The other man slid into the back seat. As the driveway turned, Braden could see a huge manor house.

  “Wow,” he said. “That house must have a zillion rooms.”

  When the van stopped, the man in black got out and opened the door nearest Braden. Slater threw him the key to the cuff that had chained him to the seat of the van. He motioned for Braden to stand. Slater waited until Braden had jumped down from the van, then he grabbed his shoulder steering him toward a shaded terrace.

  There was a big man sitting on a large chair in front of table loaded with good things to eat. He looked from Braden to Slater. “You didn’t get the girl.”

  “No.” Jake grabbed for her, but that stupid Bond pulled her away from us. Jake grabbed the kid instead. He figured you could trade him for her.”

  “Jake’s a fool. He’s better off dead.” He looked at Braden who was looking at all the food. “Did he give you any trouble?”

  “No. He’s a pretty smart kid.”

  “Is he?” He looked at Braden. “It’s too bad that your aunt destroyed those papers on Sheba. She could have signed her death warrant.”

  Braden said, “She read them before she burned them.”

  Breckenridge leaned forward. “She burned them?”

  “Why?”

  “So you’d leave us alone. She was worried about me.”

  “She was right to worry about you. Now I have you.” Breckenridge gloated.

  “If you hurt me, you’ll blow your chance to find Sheba. If you hurt me, my aunt won’t tell you a thing. She’d rather die than give you what you want.” Braden said firmly.

  “And if I don’t hurt you, she’ll tell me what I want to know.”

  “To save me, she’d help you find Sheba. You won’t find it unless she does help you.”

  “She knows that much?”

  “Yup,” he said confidently. “She knows that much and she is really, really super smart.” He paused, “She read that Aschler guy’s papers. He sent her a whole box of them. I opened the box for her with a black bar.” He looked at Slater. “She has a phontic memory.”

  Breckenridge frowned.

  Slater said, “He means a photographic memory. She remembers what she reads, right?”

  Braden nodded.

  “It sounds like we have our bargaining chip. Get him ready to go.” Breckenridge said

  “We’d better feed him. He’ll be more cooperative.” Slater said.

  Breckenridge thought about it for a moment. “All right. Feed him and take him to the water closet. But don’t let him dawdle. I don’t want him here when they raid the place. Understand?”

  Slater nodded as he pulled out a chair for Braden. Then he sat down next to him. “What do you want to eat, kid?” He asked.

  --------

  Sheba looked at Marshall. “I need to get back to the embassy. If Breckenridge is going to call, that’s where he’ll call. He won’t look for me here.”

  Marshall said, “I’ve got a borrowed car outside. I’ll take you.”

  “Miss Bentley,” Maitland said, “I think you should wait until we formulate a plan of attack.”

  “I don’t work for you anymore.”

  “Yes, you do. The President never accepted your resignation. You’re too valuable to lose. All of us know it.”

  “If that’s the case,” Sheba said, “You’d better come to the embassy because that’s where I’m going even if I have to walk.” She took a step toward the door and groaned. “Or limp as the case may be.”

  Marshall hurried to open the door for her. The others trailed along behind them like a comet’s tale. When they got outside, Sheba s
topped abruptly. A Humvee painted in camouflage grey was sitting in front of the door. She smiled, “You said borrowed. You just didn’t say from whom you borrowed it.”

  He grinned as he opened the door. “I have a friend in supply here. He was more than willing to let me sign it out.”

  “This is the second time in a week that I’ve gotten to ride in a real Humvee. It’s sad that Braden isn’t here. He’d love to ride in it.”

  Marshall looked at her. “We’ll find him,” he said. “I’ve sent word to my recon team. They will be here in thirty minutes. When we find out where he is, we’ll go after him.”

  “Thanks, Marshall.”

  As he put the Humvee in gear, he said, “I have a bad feeling about this whole situation. Breckenridge is tricky and Tony is sneaky. The two together could really cause you grief.”

  Sheba took a deep breath. “I know. I need to find Braden.”

  Marshall said, “Do what you need to do. I’ll do my best to make sure that both of you are protected. I’m afraid we won’t have time to get you ready with a tracking device.”

  “What do you suggest? I’d love to be wired but he’ll suspect that.”

  “I know. I have a suggestion, but it is experimental. It will hurt to install it, but I don’t think that Breckenridge or his goons would be able to find it.”

  “If it is experimental, will it die at the wrong time?”

  “We’ve tested the prototype and it worked great. However, this is an advanced model so it has features that the other one didn’t have.”

  “Okay, so how do you install it?”

  “It’s injected into your nose.”

  “What,” she squealed. “That sounds painful.”

  “He will deaden your nose before they inject it.”

  “He? Marshall, I can’t stop anywhere. I’m sure we’re being followed. They’ll know what we’ve done. Braden will die.”

  “Sheba, don’t worry. I brought the technician with me. That’s why I brought the Humvee. He’s one of my team. He can inject the device, then track you. He can do it before we get to the embassy. What do you say?”

  Sheba bit her lip. “Do you really think he’ll push to get me tonight?”

  “I would, if it were me. He knows about wires so he’ll expect that.”

  She swallowed. “Oh Marshall, this is really testing my resolve, but what if they use an X-ray.”

  A voice from the back of the Humvee said, “It’s completely untraceable. It won’t show up on an x-ray. The only problem is that it will eventually dissolve so we need to finish this operation before it does. The makers say that it will be good for about six months. Can we finish in that time period?”

  “It we haven’t found him by then, he’ll be dead.” Sighing she said, “Let’s do it. But you’d better not lose me.”

  “Okay. Keep looking ahead. Don’t look at me.” A man crawled up behind Sheba. “Hi, I’m Fred Williams. Since you think you’re being followed we’re going to have to do this the difficult way.”

  “So what else is new?” Sheba said.

  He laughed. “Well, we know when we’re called in, it’s going to get ugly so we just get used to it. Now, I want you to turn toward me, but act like you are pointing at a car that just went by.”

  She tapped Marshall on the shoulder then pointed behind him. Fred tipped her head a little more toward him. He sprayed a solution up her right nostril.

  She gasped, then grabbed her nose. “That hurt.”

  “It’s worse if we don’t deaden your nostril. You will probably feel the need to sneeze so I’d get a couple of tissues.”

  She grabbed a couple of tissues from a container on the dash. She began to sneeze. When she was finished, Fred said, “How does that feel?”

  “Like I’m going to have a cavity filled.”

  “Good. That’s the feeling we want.”

  Marshall said, “We’re only about three blocks from the embassy.”

  “That’s not enough time.” Fred said. “You’re going to have to stall.”

  “How?”

  “Use your imagination. Drive around the block. You could jerk the vehicle to the right or left a couple of times, then get out and check the tires. Get down and look underneath like something is wrong. I’ll tell you when I’m ready to do the injection.”

  Two minutes later, Fred said, “Now, Marshall.”

  Suddenly the Humvee jerked to the side. Marshall corrected, then it jerked to the side again. He pulled into a parking lot. Opening the door, he called to Sheba. “I hope it isn’t the struts again. If it is, I’ll have Lt. Walter’s head.”

  “Hurry,” she yelled back.

  “They should be watching him now, but if they aren’t, look down, then drop to your knees, facing me.”

  Suddenly, she locked her door. Then she dropped to her knees, following his instructions exactly.

  He took her chin in his hands, positioning her head carefully in the dim light. She felt the needle slide through her nostril then up into the nasal cavity. Fred tightened his hold on her chin, pushed the needle against the nasal lining and pulled the trigger.

  She gasped as she felt a small projectile enter her face. “Oh-h-h” she groaned, tears running down her cheeks. “If you think that hurts a little, I’d hate to feel what you think hurts a lot.”

  “Sorry. Each person’s pain threshold is different.” He handed her another tissue. “You need to wipe your eyes, then hold the bridge of your nose. The pain will go away soon, but Marshall has been out there too long. You’d better see what’s going on. Just hold the tissue to your nose. It’s bleeding so you can tell him that why you’re checking on him.”

  “How long will it bleed?”

  “Only a few minutes. I know it felt like the projective was huge, but it was only a millimeter wide and a couple of millimeters long.”

  Sheba opened her door. By the time she had her crutches in position, Fred had ducked into the back of the Hummer behind a pile of blankets.

  “Marshall, is there something wrong?” She hobbled around the back. Marshall was lying on the ground. She hurried over to him, but before she could get to her knees, someone grabbed her arm, swinging her around to face him.

  “You!” She snapped. It was the squeenchy eyed man. “What have you done to Marshall?”

  He sneered. “You should be asking me what I’ve done with your nephew.”

  “You won’t have hurt him.” She said defiantly. “Because you know that you won’t get anything out of me.” She looked up at him. “I believe your name is Michael Slater, correct.”

  “My name doesn’t matter.” He grabbed her crutches, then lifted her off her feet.

  She started to struggle. “I’m not going with you unless you let me talk to Braden. I want to know he’s all right.”

  He drew back his fist and popped her hard on the jaw. She slumped to her knees, her nose gushing blood.

  He shoved her in the car, pushing the crutches in after her. Before she came to, he started the car and gunning the motor he squealed out of the parking lot. Once he’d put a few blocks between them and Marshall’s body, he slowed to the speed limit.

  When he stopped for a red light, he noticed that her nose was still bleeding. Twisting a piece of tissue to a point, he shoved it into her nostril.

  At the next light, he pulled handcuffs from his pocket and cuffed her hands together. Then he arranged her body so the back of her head was resting against the window.

  Almost an hour later, she opened her eyes, but she didn’t seem to see anything. Aimlessly, she reached for the plug in her nose. Slater grabbed her hand and shoved it down.

  “Don’t touch your nose. I just got the bleeding to stop.”

  “Where am I?” Her words were slurred.

  “On your way to Breckenridge Manor. Mr. Breckenridge wants to talk to you.”

  She closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes again, he said, “How are you feeling?”

  She turned her face away to hid
e her tears.

  Not looking at her he said, “I didn’t hit you that hard.”

  “You idiot, my heart hurts, not my body.” She was quiet for a few minutes, watching the lights in the distance. She could feel her mind floating, like she had been drugged. Braden, are you alright? It was her last thought for a long time.

  She woke when they stopped at the big rot-iron gates to Breckenridge Manor.

  A man stepped from one of the thick posts. Slater opened the window. “Open up.” He said impatiently. “I’ve got the girl.”

  “Good because Mr. Breckenridge is real angry. Someone is going to get hurt.”

  Chapter 17

  As soon as Slater’s car had disappeared down the street, Fred jumped out of the car. As he hurried to him, Marshall put his hand to his head, groaning.”

  “Don’t sit up,” Fred said. “Someone hit you over the head really hard.”

  “Sheba?”

  “He got her. I didn’t dare make myself known or her cover would be blown.”

  “Did you get that thing installed?”

  “Yes. I need to get you to the hospital.” Fred said.

  “No. Get me back to NSA headquarters. We’ve got to start tracking her.”

  Fred hoisted Marshall to his feet. “I don’t think I can get you into the front seat. I’ll put you on the floor in the back.

  Marshall just groaned.

  A few minutes later, Fred pulled up in front of the NSA gates which were closed and barred. Two Marines in combat gear stepped out of the gate house. The first one brought his M-16 up to cover the Humvee. Staying out of the first Marine’s line of fire, the second Marine motioned for Fred to roll down his window. “Papers.” He snarled. The polite, helpful Marines were gone. These men meant business and they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot to kill.

  Pulling out his ID, Fred said, “Marshall’s in a bad way. He was hit over the head when they grabbed the girl. I think he was hit with a pipe or a metal wrench.”

  The Marine pulled the radio away from his collar. He reached in the gatehouse and pulled a lever to open the gate. “Park around the back. The Paramedics will meet you there.”