by Regan Black
Caleb had rambled about cars in every shape and size, practically without taking a breath, for the first half of the drive back to DC. It was an enjoyable distraction for Matt, who savored his son’s enthusiasm as he wondered what was going through Bethany’s mind. It shouldn’t matter. Once the threat was removed, the three of them would establish a new normal. Whether or not he could have a relationship with her, he’d made it clear he wouldn’t walk out of Caleb’s life.
“How long will we stay with Matt, Mom?”
“Through your fall break,” she replied. “I booked a hotel near the Mall so we can walk to the monuments and museums.”
This was the first Matt heard about a hotel. With Caleb listening, he pretended this wasn’t news. They all knew he had plenty of room at the condo, but he supposed that had been wishful thinking. He’d have to tell Alex about this shift at the first opportunity. Thanks to two generals tugging on strings, two dedicated security teams were being briefed. One to protect Bethany and Caleb, and one to back him up.
“We’re not staying with Matt?”
“Matt has to work,” Bethany supplied smoothly enough to make Matt’s teeth ache. “This way we can all come and go as we please.”
Yeah, his key assignment this week was to draw out the man threatening them. As of the last report that came in before they left, Matt was still the primary target. Good news, as far as he was concerned.
“Your history teacher is looking forward to pictures and a brief report when you get back,” Bethany said.
Caleb groaned and flopped backward. “You had to tell her where we were going?”
“She’s my friend, as well as your teacher.” Bethany swiveled around. “What’s the big deal? You can do reports like that in your sleep.”
“Can we go to the National Air and Space Museum?”
“Sure.” Bethany’s voice carried a wealth of maternal patience.
“What’s your favorite place in Washington, Matt?”
“It’s been a long time since I’ve done the tourist thing,” he admitted. “I remember the view from the top of the Washington memorial as a kid.”
“That would be awesome. It’s always been closed when we’ve been before.” Caleb yawned.
Matt slid a glance to Bethany. “What about a tour of the Pentagon? You’ve only seen a few corridors and missed all the good stuff.”
“Seriously?” Caleb sat up again. “Please?”
“Do you like photography?”
In the rearview mirror, he caught Caleb’s half-hearted shrug. “I guess. Why?”
“Just thinking out loud,” Matt said. “General Knudson’s daughter is a freshman. She knows DC inside and out and she’s already on her school yearbook staff. If she has time, she might help with the photography part of your report.”
“Huh.”
Bethany pressed her lips together and turned her head toward the passing view, clearly not buying into the ultra-casual reply. The easy conversation continued off and on during the rest of the route. Matt’s vigilance ratcheted with each mile that brought them closer to DC.
A weekend of peace wasn’t exactly a statement of the enemy’s limitations, but it had been a welcome respite, regardless. Traffic increased as they passed through Richmond and they unanimously agreed to stop for a treat when it was time to fill up with gas. It wasn’t as if they were on a clock. Matt finished filling the tank and called Alex to check in.
“How are things looking?” Matt asked as soon as his friend answered.
“Looks to me like you lost sight of the target,” Alex said. “We just got an update this morning that she booked a hotel room. Why aren’t she and the kid staying at your place?”
“Her choice.” Matt couldn’t hide his aggravation from one of his best friends. “I tried to get her to stay back with my parents.”
Alex snorted. “Even I know she’s not the sort to go for that. Tell me, did you give her any kind of good reason to stay with you?”
Clearly not. His gaze drifted to Bethany and Caleb at the booth inside the restaurant. “Drop it,” Matt warned. Alex could hassle him later. On their next fishing trip, maybe. “What am I driving us into?”
“Nothing worse than typical traffic,” Alex reported. “The first walk through shows all quiet and calm at her hotel. The team on your place has two possible suspects, but still no definitive IDs at this point. Gotta say, as temporary duty goes, this is as cushy as it gets. Thanks, man.”
Matt laughed a little. “Let’s hope it stays that way.” For everyone involved. “Intel isn’t any closer to getting a name for this jerk?”
“Not so far. We won’t let anything happen,” Alex promised. “Will I get another chance to hang out with my nephew?”
“I’ll talk with Bethany. I can’t see it being a problem.”
“Uh-huh. Is fatherhood still working out?”
Matt thought about the car project and the conversations. “Incredible,” he admitted. And nearly everything he’d hoped for. “He surfs as well as Grace Ann.” Alex whistled. “Dad and I discovered he’s interested in cars and we found one to fix up together.”
“Sounds like a good start.”
“I think so,” Matt said, turning away from the window. “Assuming we get through whatever is going on with the jerk who put a target on my back.”
“No worries. You’ve got the best team available on your six. Just do your usual Riley tough-guy strut and let us take care of the dirty work.”
“You’re a riot.”
“That’s why I’m so popular, man.”
Matt ended the call and walked back inside to join Bethany and Caleb. But they weren’t in the booth. His stomach dropped and he sidestepped around customers and staff to reach the table where they’d been moments before. A plate of french fries sat in the middle of the table, barely touched. Bethany’s purse was in the corner, her cell phone on the bench, screen shattered.
The sound of squealing tires brought Matt’s head around in time to catch a glimpse of a silver four-door sedan tearing out of the parking lot. Delaware license plate, he noted before registering that it was Caleb’s face pressed to the back window.
The world seemed to grind to a halt and roll slowly off its axis.
“No.” Matt would never know if the desperate denial had been a shout or a whisper. The next words out of his mouth were orders, barked with authority and efficiency. He grabbed Bethany’s purse and demanded someone notify the authorities as he ran out of the diner to his Camaro.
The engine roared to life and he used the redial option on his cell phone to get Alex back on the line.
“Matt?”
“Ambushed,” he reported. “Caleb and Beth were kidnapped. In pursuit, northbound.” He gave the details of his location and the car he was chasing. “I’m closing in now.”
He swerved around an eighteen-wheeler and stomped on the gas pedal. The speedometer edged past eighty, past eighty-five. Grateful for every investment in this rebuild, from the oversize engine to the superior tires and upgraded suspension, he pressed on.
No one was going to take away his family.
“Hang back. Don’t engage,” Alex ordered. “Wait for backup.”
“Can’t let them disappear,” Matt muttered. He needed that license plate.
“Matt, listen! Listen to me.”
“Caleb is in that car.”
Alex was relaying details to another party. “Do you have a visual on Bethany?”
“Negative. I have her purse. They broke her phone,” Matt said.
“Where is Caleb’s phone?”
The question threw him. “Unknown.”
“Hold on.” Alex’s voice was low and rough as he spoke to someone else. “Matt. We have a location on Caleb’s phone, consistent with your report.”
“Good.” Matt slithered around slower vehicles.
“State troopers are en route.”
“Good,” Matt repeated. He was right on the bumper of the silver sedan now and he read
off the license plate number, along with the definitive make and model of the car.
“Let the authorities handle it, Matt. We can track them by Caleb’s phone.”
No way was he letting his kid think he’d given up. “Only until they realize that’s what you’re doing.”
“Matt—”
Sirens blocked out whatever Alex was saying. No one could say anything that would pull Matt off this chase. Not until he had his family back safely. When he did, the bastard driving the car, endangering his family, would pay.
* * *
Bethany struggled to haul herself up into the back seat, beside Caleb. She feared the man who’d caught her trying to call Matt had broken her hand, as well as her device.
“Mom?” Caleb reached down to help her.
“Shut up, kid,” the driver ordered.
Bethany was tossed into the back of the passenger seat as the driver swerved and accelerated again. She tasted blood and realized her lip or nose had taken a hit somewhere along the way.
“Are you okay?” she mouthed the words to Caleb.
Wisely, he nodded. His eyes were huge and his face pale as he helped her fasten the seat belt.
She could see him fighting back tears and she covered his balled up fist with her good hand. “I’m fine. We’ll be okay.”
Pointing to the empty front passenger seat, she raised an eyebrow in question. They’d been hauled out of the diner by two men. One had held a gun to Caleb’s back, while the other had muscled her into the car.
Caleb shrugged.
Well, she wouldn’t complain about the advantage. The two of them could overpower the driver with the right opportunity. They just had to wait until he slowed down a bit.
“Dad’s right behind us,” he said, too low to be heard over the sounds of the engine and tires.
She smiled, though it aggravated her split lip. She wondered if he realized he’d called Matt Dad. In her heart, she vowed Matt would hear Caleb call him Dad soon.
Up front, a radio crackled. “Take the next exit and turn west.”
The driver swore at the traffic blocking his path.
Bethany turned just enough to see Matt’s prized Camaro keeping pace with them in her peripheral vision. The driver couldn’t slow down or Matt would overtake him. “He won’t quit,” she told the driver. “You might have a chance if you surrender.”
“Shut up!” His eyes were cold when they met hers in the rearview mirror.
It was enough of a distraction to have him miss the exit he’d been instructed to take. The radio erupted with a furious voice and new directions.
“Don’t blow it again,” the man on the other end of the radio barked.
“Get him off of me and it won’t be an issue.” There was no response.
Fear spiking through her veins, Bethany twisted in her seat in an effort to warn Matt. “Oh, no.” A motorcycle surged up the interstate, weaving in and out of traffic. The rider was only two car-lengths back from Matt.
She shouted despite the futility as the rider raised a gun. The muzzle flared—once, twice, three times—and she blinked back tears as Matt’s car jerked and shimmied, the back end skidding wide toward the shoulder. At the speeds they were traveling, she knew he could only hang on as the car became unmanageable.
Caleb shouted, his hand reaching toward the rear window as the driver distanced himself from Matt’s problems, pulled around another big truck and skidded into the off-ramp, leaving the interstate behind.
A cheer came over the radio and Bethany pulled her son into a hug, praying fervently for a way to escape, for Matt’s survival. “Your dad is as tough as they come,” she murmured into Caleb’s hair. “He loves you. Don’t give up on him.”
Matt had to be alive; she wouldn’t accept anything less.
Since he’d met Caleb, he’d demonstrated a tenacity and dedication that he wouldn’t be denied his place as father any longer. A few bullets hadn’t stopped him before; she doubted he’d stand for a kidnapping.
“He loves us,” she said. “We’ll hang on until he can get here.”
And if he didn’t get there? a little voice in her head dared to ask. If he didn’t get there, he would never know that she loved him, truly loved him. She’d simply been afraid of needing him too much and driving him away. Keeping him at bay had been safer, had left the control in her hands.
“Mom?”
“We’ll make it,” she repeated it.
Though tears threatened as temper, frustration and confusion battered her mind and heart, she fought back against the urge to cry. This driver would not get any satisfaction from her. It was time to step up. She would not let Matt Riley’s son be used as a weapon or pawn in someone’s sick game of revenge against Ben.
The driver slowed for a curve as he drove along a winding road, deeper into the Virginia forests, and she sat forward. “Get back.” He shot her another glance through the rearview mirror.
A calm certainty washed over her. “You will die,” she told him. “If Major Riley doesn’t kill you, I will.”
The driver only laughed.
* * *
Matt’s ears were ringing. It was all he could hear. The traffic and sirens were a distant memory. Smoke and dirt choked the air, making it hard to breathe. His vision was blurry. He kept blinking, but he couldn’t be sure if the problem was weather, haze or something worse.
He tasted blood in his mouth and felt the stickiness of it on his shirt and hands. Voices started to cut through the incessant clanging in his head. Familiar voices mixed with those of strangers. Some called his name, and others called him by rank.
As Matt struggled to get his bearings, he started to recall what had happened and what he’d been trying to do. “Sh-shot,” he stammered in the direction of the nearest voice. “Tire was shot.”
“Yes, sir. Stay with me, Major Riley.”
As if he had a choice. “Motorcycle.” He pushed the word out through a throat full of gravel. “Silver s-sedan.”
“We know, sir. Stay still for me now.”
“Uh-huh.” Feeling was coming back into his legs and arms, along with the chaotic, fractured images from that last second before he lost control of the car and the sedan sped away.
“My f-family.” He coughed, wheezed.
“Notifications in process, sir. Hold on.”
A loud and mechanical ratcheting sound jarred him. Someone had covered his face with a blanket or coat to shield his face. Though he tried, he couldn’t move his arms to push it out of the way. He had to move, had to get back on the trail of that sedan. “Kidnapped my family.”
At last the pressure on his chest released. His arms were free and he could pull air deep into his chest. First responders helped him from the car and helped him stand. With every inhale of the cool, clear air, his mind and vision cleared a little more.
“My family was kidnapped,” he said, his voice firmer, more familiar in his ears.
The paramedic pushing an oxygen mask to his face murmured some comforting nonsense. Matt resisted, looking around for a state trooper or someone who might listen. “I’m fine. My family’s in danger.”
Slowly, he started registering the scene. He was in the center median, surrounded by emergency vehicles. His car wasn’t visible from his position near the ambulance. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see it anyway.
“Any other cars involved?”
“No, sir. Not sure how you managed it, but good job.”
Well, he’d done something right. Still, it stung that the sedan and the attacker on the motorcycle got away. “Any witnesses to the motorcycle that attacked me?”
“Sir, my job is you.” The paramedic cut away his shirt sleeve, tracking the origin of the bleeding.
“Where’s my phone?”
“No idea, sir.” The paramedic found the wound and plucked out a shard of glass and started cleaning the wound.
“I’m fine.” Matt squirmed away, wincing at the aches and weak spots. He’d taken fire on deployme
nts, been in the thick of it when a convoy had been attacked. Though he was scraped up, nothing was broken. Adrenaline could mask serious symptoms, sure. He didn’t care. Right now only Caleb and Bethany mattered.
He grabbed the first state trooper he saw. “Matt Riley. My family was taken against their will from—”
“Yes, sir. I’ve been briefed. We have units in pursuit.”
Matt almost took comfort in that. “I need to be in pursuit, as well.”
The trooper’s jaw worked in thought. “Do you know where they were taken?”
Matt shook his head.
“Then I say you’ve pursued enough, sir. My orders are to get you to a hospital.”
“Do you have a wife?” Matt demanded. “Kids?”
“Yes. Both,” the trooper replied.
“In my shoes, would you let someone else handle it while you were still alive and fit?”
The trooper sighed. “No. But Major Riley, you’re not fit.”
“A security team was tracking my son’s cell phone signal.”
“I’ve been told to reassure you that they are still tracking that signal. I’ve also been asked to keep you right here if you refused transport to a hospital.”
“Beg your pardon?”
The trooper pointed to the sky. A helicopter rotor sounded overhead. Belatedly, Matt realized the traffic on the interstate had been cleared away to make room for the helicopter to land.
A lanky man hopped out and jogged over, bent at the waist until he was clear of the rotor wash. He stood upright and Matt felt a spark of hope. “Alex.”
“They tell me you’re being a pain in the ass after heroically throwing your car into the median to prevent a pileup.”
“There was a motorcycle.” Matt didn’t find that a good enough excuse for allowing an enemy to surprise him.
Alex listened to him explain the ambush as he checked over Matt as much as the paramedics had done. “All right,” he decided. “You have backup now. Ready to get this done?”
Matt nodded and turned to thank the trooper before heading to the helicopter with Alex.
As the pilot lifted them up and away from the highway, Matt studied the scene below. Angry black lines marred the pavement and carved ruts through the median, ending at his car. The Camaro looked as if a giant had smashed it. It really was a miracle he’d managed to prevent any other personal or property damage.
