Relentless Chase 4 (Troubles Brewing)

by Posey Parks

  “God. Ugh,” she groaned.

  “Baby, I need you to focus.”

  “Where are you going?” her voice was laced with anger and concern.

  “Back to Seattle. I think something may have happened to the real Ms. Skover. Listen very carefully. Send the nanny home. Gather whatever you need, but only enough to fit in a duffel bag. Go into the panic room. Walk toward the back of the house. Enter in the code five, seven, one, nine. Once you enter the tunnel turn right. You’ll come to a door at the end of your path. Use the same code to open that door. I’ll text you the other code on this phone.”

  “Where does the tunnel lead?”

  “To your new house. Surprise.” I fake chuckled.

  “What?”

  “The huge house at the end of the cul-de-sac is ours. I know the home isn’t complete, but the bomb shelter is. That was first to be built. You’ll find everything you need. Weapons, food. If you don’t hear from me in two days reach out to Samantha. I didn’t want to bother them on vacation, but we will need help.”

  Sydney was silent.

  “Baby, are you still there?”

  “Yes.” She exhaled. “I’m calling Samantha the second I make it to my destination. Sebastian, I love you. Please be careful.”

  “I love you, too. Bye.”

  Gripping the cell in my hand, I kicked the wall. “Shit!”

  No time to ponder on how I got here. Stepping out of my office I informed my secretary I’d be a way on business for a couple of days.

  Swiftly walking toward my car in the parking garage, I grabbed a high-tech bomb detector from the duffel. My car was clean.

  Once on the jet, I relaxed into my leather seat. I only had two hours to figure out Ms. Skover’s life. There wasn’t one photo of Ms. Sandy Skover anywhere on the web. Someone covered their tracks well. Meant I was dealing with another hacker. No one else had that ability to wipe someone clean undetected. I performed all my back door tricks, and I came up empty. I was virtually walking into this situation blind. Before exiting my jet, I climbed into all black combat gear. I loaded my rugged iPad in the duffel equipped with everything I’d need on a mission.

  Parked up the street from Ms. Skover’s home, I peered through the thermo binoculars. A couple strolled down the dark street, pushing a stroller. A man jogged past my dark rental car. Apparently, the residents felt safe in their tree-lined suburban neighborhood.

  Reclined in my seat, I turned my attention back to Ms. Skover’s house. A bright light illuminated the living room window. Movement drifted past multiple times. Someone possibly pacing. Shit, I needed to get a closer look. Sliding on black leather gloves, then the gadget glasses, I tapped the right handle. “Record.”

  After powering up the glasses, I lowered my dark cap, and tucked two Glocks against the small of my back within my waistband. Slowly, I closed the car door. Scanning the street as I crossed, I halted for a split second at the strip of grass separating the two houses. I pulled open the fence, then dipped into the backyard.

  Framing my hands around my face, I peeked through the back window. This is risky, Caden. My heart lurched in my chest as I crouched, picking the back-door lock. Pushing the door open, I slipped inside, closing the door behind me. Glocks drawn; I slid my back along the wall as I crept down the hall. A big burly guy paced the living room floor. My jaw slacked. No. The person I saw before the window had a smaller build. What was happening here? Rotting flesh hit my nostrils as I approached the living room. Bile rose in my throat and my stomach twisted. Peeking in the living room, I pointed my Glock around the room.

  A faceless woman was hunched over in a chair. Must’ve been Ms. Skover. But why? I kept my back against the wall, glancing down the empty hallway straight ahead.

  “Put your hands on your head and face me slowly.”

  Hysterical laughter poured from the giant’s mouth. His smile dropped, peering at me. “We’ve got you now,” he sang.

  There was a raised imprint under his yellow shirt.

  My brow wrinkled. “What’s under your shirt?”

  He chuckled. “It’s a surprise.”

  “Raise your shirt, Nice and slow.”

  One hand on his head. His free pale hand slowly lifted the T-shirt.

  Explosives. Fuck.

  I wouldn’t lower my weapon. There was a possibility I could run toward the back of the house and leap out of the window.

  “Why did you kill Ms. Skover?”

  He cocked his large meaty head from side to side.

  “I didn’t kill her.”

  “You did.” The woman said, appearing from the hallway in front of me. She leaned against the wall, arms crossing her chest.

  “What the fuck is going on here? You’re the woman who pretended to be Ms. Skover.”

  A smile brightened her pretty face. “I have no idea what you are talking about.” Her southern accent shined through.

  Police sirens sounded in the distance.

  “Sounds like it’s time for my friend and I to leave.”

  “You’re going down for her murder.” She nodded toward the chair.

  “Why?”

  Her finger tapped against her lip. “I’m not ready to tell you. I’ve got plans for you.” She blew me a kiss as her eyes roamed my frame. “Bye, bye, now.” She raised the detonator eye level, smiling as she backed away.

  The red and blue lights surrounded the house.

  “Upload.” I blurted out the command to the Gadget glasses. Anger coursed through my veins.

  I dropped to my knees, placing my weapons on the floor. “Fuck!” I yelled, threading my fingers behind my head.

  “Don’t move!” I heard from behind.

  The officer kicked my weapons out of reach, then smacked my face against the hardwood floor.

  Two hours later, I’d been questioned, taunted and booked and processed at Seattle Police Department. Their questioning fell on deaf ear. I requested my attorney repeatedly. In the wee hours of the morning, I was allowed my one phone call. My attorney said he’d arrive in Seattle by late morning.

  Sydney and Caden would remain in the bomb shelter for two days. The second my attorney arrived I’d call my CIA contact.

  I’ve never been arrested. I was determined to survive this horrific ordeal.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SEBASTIAN

  The bustling office came to an eerie halt. Staring and whispering sparked as I was marched out the back door. Two officers on each side of my path waited outside the black and white jail bus. Their hands rested on their weapons.

  “Looks like someone’s in for a little playtime,” The short, stocky officer taunted on my left.

  The other officers laughed.

  “A pretty boy, billionaire like yourself in a jail filled with criminals. They’re going to give you one hell of a welcome,” the tall officer to my right with dark sinister eyes stated.

  Stone faced my muscled arms tensed. They tried using their bullshit tactics to provoke me. Relaxing my cuffed hands in front of me, I stepped on to the bus. The orange jumpsuit hung over the chains, binding my legs, and dragged along the floor.

  The officer tapped the seat behind the bus driver with his wooden baton. “Sit,” the thin man said. He pulled his black cap snug over his salt and pepper hair.

  The dark circles around his eyes and saggy cheeks held testament to all he’d seen in his lifetime.

  He sat across the aisle, gripping a shot gun.

  Sitting back straight on the edge of the seat, I stared through the large rear-view mirror, scanning the faces of the men behind me. The man in the very back, flashed a devious smile. He’d pose a problem soon. No one could be trusted. I didn’t give a shit about the lack of sleep. My body zinged. I’d be ready for whatever bullshit a motherfucker might try.

  The guards walked along the opposite wall, ordering us to keep moving. Myself and the men behind me strolled down a cement corridor lined with cells.

  Inmates, heckled, spit, and stretched their ha
nds toward us through the gray metal bars.

  “Welcome to the Four Seasons, Johansen,” the young guard chuckled, standing at the entrance of my cell, removing my restraints. He was a muscle-bound cocky asshole. Ready for any of the inmates’ shit. His partner stood against the rail holding a shotgun.

  Carrying my pillow and blanket, I stepped inside. “Don’t be shy, make yourself comfortable,” the guard smirked.

  I sat on the low bunk.

  “Get the fuck in there. Fucking repeat offender. I knew you’d be back.” He shoved the guy who grinned at me on the bus, inside the cell.

  “Play nice, you two.” The guard flashed a sneaky grin.

  He stood back, raising his hand in the air, glancing down the corridor. “Inmates stand back. Lock it down.”

  The cell door slammed shut.

  A large grin widened across my cell mates tanned face. He placed his bedding on the bunk, then climbed up.

  Laying my head on my pillow closest to the wall, I kept my hands to my sides, staring at the top bunk.

  “What are you in here for, rich boy?”

  I wasn’t here to make friends. Damn, sure wasn’t going to answer his fucking question. Thinking about my wife and child would only cloud my thoughts and I needed to remain sharp.

  “Hey, Mr. Entitled. I know you hear me talking to you.”

  Not sure how much time passed, but he finally zipped his lips.

  My lids lowered. The bunk shifted slightly and my eyes popped open.

  He was standing at the foot of the bunk. I jumped to my feet.

  A smile grew across his thin lips. “So, what you were anticipating I’d make a move?” He hunched over in a fighting stance.

  “Lucky guess.” Arms wide, I grimaced.

  His fist swung through the air, I leaned back and slammed my foot into his gut. He skidded across the concrete floor.

  He chuckled. “I was told you could fight.”

  My jaw slacked. “Who told you?”

  “My boss.” He hopped to his feet, revealing a shank.

  My hysterical laughter bounced off the walls. “I see your boss thinks she knows a lot about me.”

  His jaw dropped.

  “Oh, you didn’t know I knew she was a woman.”

  He inched forward. I arched my stomach inward. “Yeah, she’s a real piece of work. She’ll see my face soon enough.”

  “I don’t think so. You ain’t leaving here alive.”

  “I beg to differ.” I flashed my billion-dollar smile.

  He charged at me. I jumped aside. He halted at the wall, chest heaving.

  I stood. My back faced the bars. “I’m sure you were the best she could do on short notice. If she really knew who I was she would have sent someone with more of a bite.”

  I swung my foot, smacking the shank out of his hand. He staggered to the ground, scrambling for his weapon. My foot slammed into his gut several times. He rolled toward the wall, wobbling to his feet. He stalked toward me swinging the knife. The blade slid through the skin on my forearm. I winced, peeking at the blood dripping on the floor. He stepped into my space and my fist connected with his jaw. My other hand caught his arm mid strike. I slapped his hand against the bed frame, knocking the shank to the ground. Wrapping my arm around his neck, pulling him with me. My back halted at the concrete wall. He yanked on my arm.

  “Yup, no breaking free from this tight hold. Tell your boss, I’m coming for her.” I smirked.

  His hands fell to his sides and his body went limp. I lowered him to the ground. Dropping my head, my chest rose and fell. I stepped over his sleeping frame, and snatched the sheet off his bed. I ripped several pieces of the sheet then tied his arms, legs, and gagged his mouth. Grabbing the shank off the floor, I placed it under my pillow. I tied a thin sliver of the sheet over the cut on my arm. I laid on my bunk and dozed off.

  A stinging sensation broke my slumber.

  The motherfucker punched me in the face.

  My eyes widened staring at the young guard. “What the fuck happened here?”

  I crossed my arms over my face. Probably shouldn’t have taken that well-earned nap.

  “He attacked me and tried killing me with a shank.”

  The bound man on the ground glowered.

  “Get the fuck up, Johansen.”

  He yanked me off the bed and shoved me out the cell. I stumbled and quickly regained my balance.

  “Your attorney is here.” He placed the cuffs around my wrists.

  “I’ll be sure to note the assault with a deadly weapon. Love to be a fly on the wall in the courtroom Monday, when you go before the judge. You’re going down, Johansen,” he whispered followed by a sneaky chuckle as we approached the small room.

  He unlocked the heavy metal door and shoved me inside.

  I gaped at the vision before me. “Sydney.”

  She bit her lower lip and her fingernails dug into her palms at her sides.

  “Mr. Albright called.”

  I glanced at him. “Thanks for coming, Glover and for bringing my wife.”

  “You’re welcome. Sit.”

  Sydney’s eyes remained on my face. I was certain I was black and blue.

  “Mr. Albright and I are representing you.” She sat beside him, placing her hands in her lap.

  I had so many questions for her, but I couldn’t ask them now. My wife was fighting to hold it together. Fuck I loved how strong she could be when she was under pressure.

  I peeked at the phone on the table. “I need to make one call.”

  “Go ahead,” Mr. Albright stated.

  My contact’s phone number was ingrained into my brain.

  I dialed the number and waited for him to answer.

  “Who’s calling?”

  I cleared my throat. “Eagle, sir.”

  “I’ve been waiting for your call.

  I stared at the corner, clutching the receiver.

  “You don’t have to say a word. Give me an hour. I’ll be seeing you soon.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He disconnected the call.

  I stared into the confused gazes across the table and hung up the phone.

  “Mr. Albright, have a safe trip back to L.A.”

  His mouth dropped open. “You can’t stay in here, Mr. Johansen.”

  The door swung open. The seething young guard stepped into the room and removed my cuffs. “Not sure how but you're free to go,” he sighed.

  Sydney peeked at me, visibly swallowing. Concern loomed her face. She knew now what the cost was for my get out of jail free card. That’s right. Back to working for the fucking CIA. Not sure where my assignment would be. Maybe Yemen or Kandahar. Didn’t matter. I knew it meant I’d be away from my family outside the country for long periods of time.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SYDNEY

  Mr. Albright, and I stepped into the hall. The guard escorted Sebastian to obtain his personal items.

  “Thanks again for helping us.” I grinned, shaking his hand.

  “Anytime, Mrs. Johansen.” Mr. Albright walked through the jail exit.

  I still blushed when called by my new last name.

  Thirty minutes after arriving in the new bomb shelter, I rocked and soothed Caden in the Baby Björn carrier as I walked from room to room. Hard to fathom the gorgeous state-of-the-art underground haven could protect us from a blast. My fingers grazed over the sleek cream walls. Expensive furniture graced every room. If it wasn’t for my son, I would have lost my mind. All the cooing melted my heart.

  Finally, I settled into our temporary home. I called Samantha’s burner phone from the one Sebastian gave me.

  “Sydney, what’s the matter?”

  Lying in the bed, patting Caden’s bottom, I watched his long lashes hide his deep green eyes.

  “Sebastian, didn’t want to ask.” My voice broke.

  “Sydney, talk to me.”

  I exhaled then explained everything.

  “That bitch will pay,” Samantha growle
d.

  “We are on our way home. Wait, if he’s in Seattle, where are you?”

  “In my new bomb shelter at the end of the cul-de-sac.”

  She gasped. “Oh, my god, he told you about the house.”

  My eyes narrowed, and I smacked my lips. “You knew about my new house?”

  She chuckled. “Yes. There is a door labeled C. Type in the code three, zero, six, eight. That door will lead you to our bomb shelter.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, this way we can travel between houses if we want.”

  “I like that.”

  “You need to be available to help Sebastian. We won’t arrive for fifteen hours. Take the baby to Denise when you’re ready. She’ll remain in our bomb shelter with Caden until we arrive. She’s been through this before. She’ll keep Caden safe.”

  I ran my fingers over my ponytail. “Thank you, Samantha. Tell Jacob I am sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll call you at this number when we arrive.”

  “Ok, goodbye.”

  I built a fort of pillows around Caden, then drifted off to sleep.

  My cell rang around three in the morning.

  “Hello.”

  “Yes, may I speak to Mrs. Johansen?”

  “This is she. Whose calling?”

  “Mr. Johansen’s attorney, Glover Albright.”

  My heartbeat thudded my ears and goosebumps prickled my arms.

  “What happened?”

  “Mr. Johansen has been arrested. He’s suspected of murder.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What?”

  “I leave in an hour for the airport. Would you like to accompany me?”

  “Yes! I’ll meet you on the tarmac in front of the firm’s plane.”