Snatched

by Michael Arches

  Langer’s information about another man turned out to be of more than passing interest to Athena. According to the records, she was three months pregnant with Roberto Caruso’s clone. He was a forty-year-old Italian sculptor and painter. The largest newspaper in Rome had called him Italy’s latest Michelangelo. Actually, he looked more like Orlando Bloom.

  She also found the three babies that Langer had sold already. All had been delivered within the US, which made the new parents easy targets if they refused to cooperate with Athena at the appropriate time.

  The project’s files made the clones sound great, but Athena had read that there were plenty of problems with cloning. She didn’t get comfortable with the idea until after several long discussions with Wu. According to the imprisoned doctor, the Chinese scientists who created Langer’s cloned embryos had managed to overcome all past technical problems.

  Wu was hoping to be released on bail because she’d negotiated a cooperation agreement with the Feds. It didn’t hurt that she’d recorded several conversations with Langer about his project before she’d agreed to move to Utah.

  -o-o-o-

  After Cici’s New York tour, Athena decided to live secretly in the mountains west of Boulder. Mainly to be close to Beau. Even though he was a Cajun bullshitter, the better she got to know him, the happier she became.

  Her only regret was that Langer seemed to have held onto most of his billions. That would not do. DOJ had moved to seize most of the assets they could find, but the forfeiture laws moved too slowly for her liking.

  Langer had been quite clever at hiding money. Even so, she located a secret Swiss cash account owned by Langer. It would be perfect to provide financial compensation for all of the bastard’s victims, including their über-babies.

  But she couldn’t take money while he lived, or he’d realize his security had been severely compromised. She had to bide her time.

  Chapter 32

  According to the CIA’s network of agents in South and Central America, Langer began venturing out of Nicaragua shortly before the new year. Athena confirmed that when she hacked into his personal calendar. His security staff objected to his adventures, but like most billionaires, Langer did what he pleased. He told his underlings and a supposedly-secure text that he was too important a person to be locked inside a primitive, Third World narco-state forever. It was little better than a prison.

  His comment warmed Athena’s heart. The son of a bitch’s colossal ego would be his ruin.

  Sure enough, he decided to attend a fellow billionaire’s second wedding, this one in Cancún, Mexico. Langer didn’t know that one of his many victims, Mia Hidalgo, had been born and raised in Cancún.

  Athena was better informed because she’d contacted the surviving relatives of every woman or girl who’d died at the compounds in Colorado and Utah.

  -o-o-o-

  Three months and seventeen days after Athena first stood in a bathroom line at the Grab-N-Go in Durango, she used one more false identity to charter a plane from Broomfield, Colorado to the City of Angels.

  There she picked up Cici, Jackie, Maggie, and Donna. They used fake passports to fly in the chartered plane to Cancún, where they met Mia’s extended family on the beach and held an impromptu funeral mass for Mia.

  Afterward, they exchanged stories about Mia, and her mother told the Americans that her daughter’s favorite guilty pleasure was chocolate. In particular, Mia loved one local brand of dark chocolate. Her mom gave each American several bars to help them remember her lost daughter fondly.

  -o-o-o-

  The Americans stayed overnight in a condo owned by Mia’s Uncle Carlos, a local real estate developer. In the morning, they enjoyed snorkeling with Mia’s other uncle, Eduardo. He owned a half-dozen charter boats. Athena had never been to the Caribbean before, and she was surprised at how clear and warm the water was. A tropical paradise.

  But in the early afternoon, the boat landed at a private dock south of the city. Carlos picked up his brother and the Americans in a van and drove them to a church in the center of town. The uncles got out and spoke in whispers for a moment with a woman waiting there. Then, she hurried away.

  “Ninety minutes ago, señoritas,” Eduardo said, “this church was full. It contained a hundred and fifty people. We’ve been assured that the young bride was lovely, dressed in a lacy white gown. A May-December wedding.”

  Athena had researched the couple. She was a showgirl from Vegas, and he was a coal baron who’d first bought mines in Wyoming back in the seventies. “Sounds romantic. I am a little sorry that their memories of this day won’t be as happy as they hope.”

  “When someone invites a pig to a wedding,” Carlos said, “they should not be surprised when trouble ensues. We confirmed that our target, Hugo Langer, was present and walked to the reception at a nearby plaza. Let us go upstairs and see for ourselves how they are getting along.”

  Athena nodded, becoming nervous as the fateful moment drew near. Everyone wore a look of grim purpose as they ascended the narrow stairs into a bell tower. Carlos carried a long, thin case.

  Once they reached the top of the tower, he opened the box to reveal a Weatherby Mark V .300 Magnum rifle with a high-powered scope.

  “Excellent choice,” Athena said. “My father uses one for elk hunting. Swears by it.”

  Eduardo peered through the eyepiece of a spotting scope already mounted on a tripod and snickered. “There he is! Drinking and laughing. Oblivious in his final moments before he descends into Hell.”

  Everyone lined up to see him through the scope. He was sitting at the end of one of the many tables covered with food and drink. Several bodyguards stood nearby, but no one was directly behind Langer.

  Athena finished confirming his identity and said, “No reason to delay, is there?”

  “None whatsoever,” Maggie replied.

  Eduardo picked up the rifle. “He is two hundred and seventy yards away. I’ve been target practicing at that distance for over two weeks. Would you honor me with permission to take the shot?”

  Athena glanced at the other women.

  “We’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” Maggie said. “Proceed whenever you are ready.”

  Eduardo sat in a chair and settled the rifle’s barrel on a collapsible stand in front of him that would steady his aim. Athena peered into the spotting scope with her good eye, happy to see Langer’s face the instant before he met Satan. “I’ll warn you if someone is about to step in front or behind him.”

  “Excellent,” Eduardo said.

  He took two calming breaths and held the last one. Athena kept peering into the spotting scope and cupped her hands over her ears.

  Even so, the boom was deafening. In less than a second, the top half of Langer’s head exploded, spraying blood and brains over the two guards standing behind him on each side.

  Pandemonium ensued as people fell all over each other trying to get away. His guards hit the dirt.

  “Satisfactory, yes?” Eduardo asked.

  Athena’s voice bubbled over with joy. “Excellent. When I saw how relaxed you were before you aimed, I knew Langer was a goner. Perfect shooting.”

  One by one, everyone else peered into the spotting scope to see for themselves that Hugo Langer had gone to his just reward.

  Maggie was the last to look. When she finished, she said, “Wonderful, but we should leave. The security guards are beginning to gather their courage to search for us.”

  Athena’s hands were steady as she gave Carlos the spotting scope and tripod. He slung it over his shoulder and headed for the stairs. Eduardo brought the rifle in its case and the collapsible support. Maggie followed them with the folding chair. The other women stayed close on their heels. Athena had to descend slowly because of her lack of balance and her excitement.

  The street in front of the church remained empty, but sirens were wailing in the distance. Eduardo opened the back of the van and pla
ced the equipment inside. Everyone hopped into their seats. Carlos drove directly to the airport.

  The conversation along the way was muted, except for the women thanking Mia’s uncles for avenging the loss of their friend. As soon as they arrived, the chartered plane requested permission to take off.

  When the private plane left the ground, tears began to flow. They’d finally come to grips with the horror Langer had created. Everyone needed time to process.

  While the others did that, Athena used the plane’s satellite Internet connection and her laptop to transfer $384 million from Langer’s Swiss bank account to a new one she’d set up in the Cayman Islands. That cash constituted the vast majority of the liquid assets he’d managed to conceal from the FBI.

  In the coming days, Athena would distribute the funds to all of Langer’s victims from the Über-Baby Project. The women who surrounded her, the members of the rescue committee, would decide who should receive what.

  Cici had already made it clear she didn’t want anything. That was easy for her to say. She’d already negotiated several contracts worth millions of dollars with major Hollywood studios. Her biggest payout was for an upcoming reality show that would reimagine the Beverly Hillbillies program from the 1960s. She and her siblings planned to take Hollywood by storm.

  And the three women who’d lost their babies to Langer’s greedy, grasping hands, would soon be reunited. Athena planned to approach them quietly first, giving them a chance to do the right thing without getting the FBI involved. Either way, Jackie and the others would soon get their babies back.

  After everyone had a chance to compose themselves, the women toasted Mia with apple cider and chocolate. Lots of delicious dark chocolate.

  ~Finis~

  Thanks so much for reading my book!

  Athena’s and Beau’s thrilling adventures continue. If you would like to read the first chapter of the next book in this series, Nicked, please turn the page.

  Book 2 Excerpt—Nicked

  LoDo Neighborhood, Denver, Colorado

  Maude Gacy and her son Rufus cruised the midmorning streets of downtown Denver looking for a slave. Maude needed another pair of strong hands for her organic farm. Her son was more interested in finding a fresh piece of ass.

  Their pickup’s bed was covered with an aluminum canopy tall enough to allow someone to kneel inside. It would provide the perfect place to stash their prey. Midmorning was the perfect time to hunt because the streets were mostly empty. They didn’t want some passerby to notice them snatching another young wench.

  The two hunters spoke only when they noticed a possible victim. Patience was the key. Whoever they settled upon, they’d have to live with…or kill.

  Maude would make the initial approach. Because she was over six feet tall and muscular, she could manhandle most women. But four decades of hard living had taken a toll. Wrinkles covered her deeply tanned face, and her shoulder-length hair had turned from black to mostly gray. Her voice was low and gravelly, thanks to too many cigarettes and joints.

  Rufus drove slowly on the one-way streets. He was half her age but outweighed her by fifty pounds. His long black hair and bushy beard hid most of his face.

  He’d insisted on driving her old white pickup. She’d learned the hard way to let him have his way.

  “Hey,” he hissed. “Her—the redhead on the bench.”

  A skinny girl with long, flaming red hair sat by herself.

  She seemed to be waiting for somebody in the tourist trap behind her. “She’s too scrawny,” Maude said. “Not strong enough for the fields. And if we grab a kid that young, the whole town will go nuts.”

  “She’s the one!” Rufus cruised by her, grinning. Then he started looking for a place to drop Maude off.

  She put a hand on his arm. “Please, keep looking. Lots of gorgeous older ones around. What’s wrong with the blonde over there?”

  A woman with huge boobs was smoking outside a restaurant. “She’ll do a hard day’s work, and afterward, you can nail her to your heart’s content.”

  Rufus shook his head, turned the corner, and stopped in an empty loading zone. “I want the young one.”

  Maude could see it in his eyes. It was probably impossible to change his mind. But given the risk, she tried again. “She’s obviously too weak, Rufus. Probably whine all day, too. I—”

  Rufus backhanded her with his massive paw—for the thousandth time. “Take the damned dog and grab the girl.”

  Maude rubbed her temple, waited for the stars to disappear. Living with him was getting harder every day. He wasn’t the brightest star in the heavens, thanks to fetal alcohol syndrome, but he was a born hunter. Before he hit her a second time, she hopped out.

  She unlocked the back of the pickup’s canopy. A little dog hopped out. One thing she and Rufus agreed upon—puppies were the perfect bait for young women. So, Maude had borrowed a twelve-week-old golden retriever from a neighboring farm.

  After hooking on his leash, she and the dog strolled back toward the bench with the girl. They didn’t rush because Rufus needed time to circle the block and get into position.

  -o-o-o-

  Skye Dunbar scrolled through texts and emails as she waited outside the touristy knick-knack shop. Her parents couldn’t seem to pass them up, the tackier the better. They’d already shipped dozens of packages to friends back in Edinburgh as part of their “Do America” tour.

  She couldn’t get over how enormous this country was. The longest road in Scotland was only a few hundred kilometers long. Skye was even more impressed by the sun. The farther west they traveled, the brighter it became. Yesterday, in Denver, she didn’t see a cloud in the sky for the entire day. Amazing!

  Skye looked forward to spending at least four years in Colorado, studying aerospace engineering at CU. She might even become an astronaut.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when a middle-aged woman in dirty clothes sat on the bench next to her. Her body reeked. Skye figured she was homeless but she wasn’t carrying any bags of belongings like most of them.

  Then Skye noticed the puppy. Tae cute! It was maybe two months old and too darling for words.

  He bounded toward Skye, but the woman’s leash held him back.

  “Do you mind if I pet him?” Skye asked.

  “His name is Jasper,” the woman said in a low, rough voice. “Go ahead.”

  Skye leaned forward. The puppy yelped and squirmed with pleasure as she stroked his tummy. What a sweet—

  Something pressed down hard at the back of her neck.“Stop it! Stop—”

  Skye tried to straighten but couldn’t. The woman smashed a rag soaked in some chemical against Skye’s nose and mouth. Skye managed a muffled scream. Tried to jerk away, but the woman was too strong. Skye’s mind blurred then went black.

  -o-o-o-

  Everything was going as planned. Rufus and the pickup approached up the block. Then, Maude heard a deep man’s voice calling from the shop behind them.

  “Skye? What’s wrong? Are you sick, lassie?”

  Maude glanced over her shoulder. A big, burly man with a ruddy complexion was running toward them.

  Dammit!

  But for once in his life, Rufus did something useful. He stopped the pickup in the middle of the road and dashed to the rescue. The father’s gaze was focused entirely on the girl.

  Maude crammed the rag into a plastic bag inside her purse and pretended to help the girl. “Jesus, darling, what’s wrong?”

  The man rushed to the bench. As he bent over, Rufus punched him on the side of the head. The man collapsed to the sidewalk, out cold.

  Maude glanced around—blessedly, no witnesses. “Hurry, let’s get her into the truck.”

  They carried the girl to the rear of the pickup. The tailgate was already open, so they heaved their new slave inside. Maude dashed back to the bench and grabbed her purse, the girl’s things, and the stupid puppy.

  “Get in the back an
d tie her up,” Rufus said. “I’ll stop as soon as I can.”

  It was the best option, so Maude tossed the dog in the back and crawled in after. Rufus closed the tailgate before driving off.

  Maude took a couple of deep breaths to get her wind back. Then she used a pair of zip ties to bind the girl’s hands and feet. Maude worked fast, unsure how much of a dose the kid had inhaled. She might revive at any time.

  The damned mutt did everything he could to get in the way, but Maude managed despite him.

  Next, Maude filled the girl’s mouth with a rag and wrapped several layers of duct tape around her head.

  Rufus turned sharply to the right, sending Maude cursing as she rolled sideways. He screeched to a halt.

  A moment later he opened the tailgate again. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, fixed her good. Help me out of here.”

  Rufus grabbed her hand and dragged her out. They stood alone in a lonesome alley surrounded by tall buildings on both sides.

  “That was too close,” she whispered. “I had my pistol, but I didn’t want to kill the old coot. Hopefully, your punch only left him groggy.”

  Rufus shrugged as though he didn’t care. As far as she knew, he hadn’t killed anyone, but he’d started more than his share of fights. A year ago, he’d beaten the shit out of two men and a woman. That’d cost him some time in jail. Still, murder was a whole different thing.

  “Let’s get out of here before the pigs start sniffing around,” Rufus said.

  Maude couldn’t agree more. “Want me to drive? We have to take it real easy, so we don’t get pulled over.”

  “Shut up. I know what I’m doing.”

  She backed away. “Fine, do it your way, as usual.”

  They tore out.

  Sometimes, he acted like he almost wanted to get caught. But if the cops stopped them and found the girl, Maude would suffer as much as he did. They’d both be locked up for decades.