“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. You see, Khan told me about your unfortunate lack of ability to carry out a simple order.”
This wasn’t good. Wasn’t good at all. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“But you do. I know you do. You are to get that drive and deliver it to Khan. You must release Ward as well.”
“How can we? He’s the only one who knows where it is!”
“I don’t care. If you kill him, you will bring the wrath of the law down on your heads. And you, my dear, will not able to withstand lengthy interrogation. If I hear any report or even a whisper that you have killed him, I will hunt you down and find you. And when I do, it will be a long, slow death for you and your comrades. Comprende?”
Oh, yeah. She understood, all right. Years before, when she’d been El Lobo’s lover, screams had awakened her at the darkest hours of the night. She’d found him in the courtyard of his family’s hacienda with a man—or what passed for a man—caught between two of his henchmen. They’d beaten the man to within an inch of death. El Lobo finished the job with a single shot to the head. “I—I do.”
“Then get that drive and set Jonathan Ward free. You do that, and perhaps I will let you live.” A click ended the call.
Nicole remained in her crouch. She knew what would happen if they didn’t obey El Lobo. He’d keep his promise, hunt them down, and torture them before ending their lives. The same with Shamal Khan. If they didn’t get that drive to him when Roy returned in a few weeks, he’d do what he’d promised a few weeks ago: overrun the compound and kill everyone there before hunting her down.
She stumbled to her feet and glowered at Ward. If he hadn’t stolen that drive, none of this would have happened. A growl escaped her as she hurled her steaming coffee into his face.
He cried out.
With a flick of her wrist, she undid the rope holding him up.
Ward collapsed into a moaning heap onto the floor.
She snatched the K-bar knife from Cal’s hands.
“Hey!” He jumped to his feet.
She ignored him and grabbed Ward’s right arm. “You’re going to tell me where that drive is. And if you don’t, I’m going to cut off every single finger and toe you have until you do!”
He squirmed and tried to yank away.
“Starting with your pinkie finger.” She put the blade to the joint.
Roy grabbed her wrist and jerked her backward.
Off balance, she tumbled backward.
“Baby, no.” He hauled her to her feet and dragged her away.
“Let me go!” She struggled against him.
He pressed on her wrist until her fingers opened.
The knife clattered to the floor.
He grabbed her other arm.
She lashed out at him with her feet. “We need to get that drive!”
“Don’t you think I know that?” He didn’t loosen his grip. “Please, just…calm down. Can you do that for me?” He kicked the knife toward Cal, who scooped it up.
“Why should I?” She kept struggling.
“Because if you think with your emotions and not your head, we’re sunk.”
All of the fight left her. She sagged against his grip.
As if he didn’t trust her, Roy maintained his hold. “Ward’s not going to cave. You know he’s not because he’s got the same kind of training I got. He doesn’t care about himself.”
“We can break him.”
“Sure, if we had weeks and months. We don’t. I talked with Darius. Ward’s sister is on the case.”
“I know.”
Roy cocked his head. “How?”
“El Lobo called,” she said in a monotone. The sick feeling returned, and she leaned into him. “He’s going to kill us if we don’t get him the drive and free Ward.”
“But he doesn’t know what we now do. Ward has a beach house on the coast south of Wilmington. His sister and his friend, David Shepherd, are most likely heading that way.” Roy smirked. “We get there first, we ambush them. Then Ward will have no choice but to give up that drive.”
Hope began peeking through her doom and gloom scenario. “You think we can do this?”
He ran his hand down her face. “I know we can. So let’s pack up and get out of here.”
“Let’s do it.” She squared her shoulders and marched toward the small group.
Ward remained on the floor, his face twisted in a grimace of pain layered upon pain.
She once more knelt beside him and turned him onto his back. “Well, Ward, your shenanigans are up. Our pal, Darius, says you have a beach house, and more than that, your sister and David Shepherd are on their way down there. So guess what? We’re going to meet up with them. You don’t give up the drive, Cal and Frisco get to have a little party with Abigail.”
From where he now stood, Cal smirked. “Don’t worry, Ward. We’ll take really good care of her.” He cackled and held up his knife.
Ward’s mouth worked, but no sound came out.
“Gang, let’s break camp and get out of here,” Nicole told them. “In ten minutes, we leave.”
Roy walked to the camp chair and folded it up. “Boys, give Ward a little something to eat and drink. We’ll tie him up when we leave.”
Cal and Frisco grasped their prisoner’s arms. With him between them, they half-carried him to the van. His feet dragged along the floor.
Minutes later, Nicole slid into the front passenger’s seat. Roy sat behind the wheel, and Cal and Frisco occupied the only other seats on the van. Ward, now trussed up, lay in the back.
“You texting your girl?” Cal asked Frisco.
Frisco grinned. “You bet. Soon as this mess is over, I’m shacking up with her until we head back to the sandbox. Don’t worry. I won’t tell her about the fun we’ll have with Abigail.”
Nicole smirked. Now Ward had no choice about handing over that drive. And after he did? She’d figure out what to do with him.
26
Between Raleigh and the coast, North Carolina
For the couple of hours as they rocketed down state and US highways toward the coast, David listened to the Jars of Clay albums playing on the stereo. The lyrics challenged him about his faith, about trusting God when stepping into the unknown. Could he do what they urged? Completely trust that God had him in the palm of His hand and wouldn’t let him fall as far as he had years before?
“You awake over there?” Abigail asked.
“Just listening to the music. Back when I was in SF, I’d listen to Jars a lot, even when deployed. Good stuff. They kept me going.”
“Jonathan calls me a certified Jars of Clay junkie.” Her smile warmed the darkness. “I have all of their albums. I try to go to their concerts when I can. And their lyrics speak to me, especially a few years ago after my parents died and everything else that happened.”
“Like what?”
She didn’t answer.
“Abigail?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” He leaned his elbow on the door. “Try me.”
“I’m not—” Her cell phone began ringing. She blew out a sigh. “Abigail Ward. Nick, hey.”
David tuned her out and stared into the blackness pressing close against the window. They continued their winding trek through sleeping towns and small hamlets of coastal North Carolina.
He admired Abigail’s profile, caressed by the soft glow of the dashboard lights. She hid something. He knew she did. What? Why wouldn’t she share with him? After all they’d already been through together, didn’t she trust him? Time would tell.
Abigail’s voice amping up drew him out of his musings. “Look. You wanted me to cooperate, so I did.”
Even above the hum of the road noise and the music, David heard Bocelli’s voice squawking.
“Yeah, yeah…No, nothing else…What? You’re tracking me? Nick!…Okay, okay. I’ll share what we find. Satisfied?”
One more squ
awk, then nothing.
She shoved her phone into the slot beneath the stereo. “Talk about a distinct lack of trust.”
“I think it runs both ways.”
“Probably. They found the scooter—right in the owner’s driveway.”
“I know what I saw.”
“I know. Maybe Frisco took it for a joy ride.”
“I’d been to the Half-Moon before. When I was homeless the March before Kyra found me. It was so cold that night, and all I wanted, more than food, was something to keep me warm on the inside. The barista was kind enough to comp my cup of tea.”
“Did it bother you to be back in Raleigh?”
He shrugged. “It’s hard to say since we were barely there. What about you? How do you view Raleigh?”
“It’s my safe landing place.” She smiled. “Jonathan and I own the house now, and it was good to…”
“To what?”
They crossed a bridge, and the cadence of the wheels changes. “We’re here. Ten more minutes, and we’ll be at the beach house.”
David’s pulse shot up a little. Adrenaline made him focus.
The navigation device counted down the distance.
Abigail slowed as they passed an older house near the western end of the island. No light shone from any of the neighboring homes. “This is it.”
“Sunset Place?”
“Yep. It doesn’t look like anyone’s here. Hopefully, we beat them down.” She put the car into Reverse and backed into the carport. She cut off the lights, leaving them in the inky blackness of a new moon night.
David climbed from the car and listened to the whump and fizz of the waves hitting the shore. Tangy, salty air filled his nose. His buddies loved to hit the beach for some rare R&R.
The trunk clicked, and its light illuminated Abigail’s face. She undid a bag in the trunk. “You need some gloves?”
“I don’t carry them around in my purse.”
A wisp of a smile crossed her face. “You’re funny. Here. Put these on.” She tossed a pair of nitrile gloves to him, then opened a case and loaded a Sig Sauer. After working the action, she slid it into a holster and stashed it at the small of her back. She caught his eye again. “You don’t have a criminal record, do you?”
“Uh, no.”
“Good. Have a gun.” She loaded a Beretta, worked the action, and handed it to him. “My personal firearm. A round is chambered, and the safety’s on.”
““Wow. Two guns?”
“I have to accessorize somehow.” Another brief, tight smile flitted across her features as she clipped a badge to her belt. “Guns are a girl’s best friend.”
“I thought diamonds were.”
“Diamonds won’t keep me alive in a tight situation.”
He took the penlight she offered. “We’re not turning on the carport light?”
Abigail grabbed another slim case. “No. I don’t want to attract attention. The penlight has a red-light feature. Use it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She stuffed an earbud into her right ear.
“Please don’t tell me you’re listening to music.”
“Police band. Just in case someone calls the cops on us. And if they do, I’m pulling out my CID badge, even if this isn’t an official case.” She shut the trunk. “C’mon.”
He followed her to the front steps. “When you find the drive, give it to me.”
She turned. “Why?”
“Because if they bust us, they’re going to go after you first since you’re Jonathan’s sister.”
“Okay.” She drawled out the word as if clearly doubting his wisdom.
He surveyed the land across the street. The faint amber glow of the streetlights illuminated only low trees and scrubby vegetation covering the ground. A house sat next to the open area. “Coast is clear. I don’t see any lights anywhere.”
“Good. Keep an eye out.”
He held the Beretta low and ready. He glanced over his shoulder. Abigail unzipped the case and extracted a set of lock picks. It took a couple of minutes, but both bolts slid back.
“We’re in,” she murmured. “Let’s clear the rooms.”
He shut the door behind them. As if they’d worked together for years, they methodically cleared each room.
Abigail’s shoulders sagged as they stood in the empty master bedroom. “Maybe I was wrong.”
“Why do you say that?”
“There’s nothing here. No furniture, no nothing.”
“I imagine that if he closed on the house right before he returned to Ghazni, he probably didn’t have time to furnish the place, and he’d hardly want to do that a few days ago if all he was trying to do was survive.”
“True.” She heaved a sigh.
“We’ll figure it out.” He touched her on the arm, then stepped into the living/dining area and made his way to the kitchen. His red light picked up dishes in a drainer beside the sink and a coffeemaker. “Hey, I have signs of life.”
She joined him, and he gestured to the his find. “Check it out. I hardly think the previous owners would leave behind their coffeemaker and dishware.” He opened the refrigerator. “Water bottles. Another good sign.”
Abigail thumped a cabinet door closed. “I found some cereal and a coffee bag. So we were right. But where would he have a safe? I didn’t see anything in the closets. Wait! The owner’s closet.”
David followed her to the entryway and a closet with a stout deadbolt.
She knelt in front of it and used her penlight to examine the lock. “I think I can get in here. Otherwise, I’m not sure how we’re going to do it.”
“Crowbar?”
“If need be. I’m that desperate. Hold your light, would you?”
David did so and kept an eye out the front window.
It took a few minutes, but the bolt slid back. She opened it. “Bingo. My gut was right.”
He surveyed the face of the pad and noted the keyhole. “You have a key, I hope.”
“The key and the combination.” She dug into her jeans pocket and produced a small, black key with a rounded end. She inserted it, briefly closed her eyes, and punched in a series of six numbers. She turned the handle.
The door popped open.
“There it is.” She reached inside and extracted a silver jump drive. “Want to bet this has the Athena file on it?” She picked up another one. “I wonder if this is a copy of what I found in the safe in Raleigh.”
“Could be.”
She lifted the lanyards to place them around her neck.
“Whoa, wait.” David caught her arm.
“What?”
“Remember what I said? Let me take them.”
Her face clouded, and her grip tightened on the drives.
“Please.” He tried to ignore the warm tingling that worked its way up his arms. “I’m with you. I think the kidnappers are probably on their way here. Seeing Frisco in Raleigh proves it. Can you trust me on this?”
She didn’t say anything, but her fingers relaxed. She relinquished the drives to him.
He squeezed her hands. “Thanks.” After a moment’s hesitation, he looped both lanyards around his neck and made sure the golf shirt he wore covered the nylon cords. “Now let’s get out of here.”
27
Holden Beach, North Carolina
Jonathan lay on the floor of the panel van as it hurtled toward the beach. The ba-bump of its wheels and gentle rise and fall of the road told him they made their final approach to the beach. His time on earth would draw to a close soon, and he wouldn’t be able to save his sister.
Lord, save her because I’m certainly out of the action now. Or at least let me live long enough to save her. That’s all I ask. Please.
Frisco sat on one of two benches that provided the only other seating. His thumbs flew across the screen of his phone. His brow knotted. He shook his head slightly as if he fought an internal battle. Across from him, Cal seemed transfixed by watching or reading something on the tiny sc
reen of his phone. Nicole and Roy argued in the front seats.
“I told you we should have taken the shorter route.” Nicole turned her head.
“And get lost? I’m not from this state. I-40 was the quickest.”
“Thanks to that, we got caught up in that bridge replacement.” She snorted.
“And you’re the one who got us lost.”
“I tried, all right?” She shifted in her seat.
“Yeah, well, we should have stuck with the detour. And you’d think I was the one who had a hard time following directions.” Roy slammed his hand onto the steering wheel.
“I was trying to get here faster.”
“Whatever.” He muttered under his breath.
Cal and Frisco exchanged long glances.
“Because you were driving like—”
“Baby, enough already. Just be quiet.”
Jonathan rested his head against the metal wall and counted down the miles and the minutes remaining in his life. He shifted. The broken pieces of rib from his last beating ground against one another. He winced and worked his wrists. The cable ties around them didn’t give at all. The same with his ankles. His heart sank.
“Slow down,” Nicole leaned forward. “See, I told you. They’re here already.”
“So what?” Roy stopped and slid the van into Reverse. He backed up. A couple of sharp turns must have meant they’d parked in a nearby driveway. “Let’s take care of this business once and for all.”
He and Nicole hopped out.
The sliding door groaned open, which made the interior light flash on and nearly blind Jonathan.
Roy poked his head inside. “Looks like your sister’s arrived, Ward. And your pal. What’s his name? Oh, David Shepherd.”
“Frisco and me? We gonna have fun with Abigail.” Cal smirked at Jonathan. “I seen a picture of her, and she’s hot. I wonder what she looks like naked.” He licked his lips. “Don’t you, Frisco?”
Frisco nodded, though he didn’t seem as excited at the prospect as Cal did.
Jonathan tried to sit up, but he got so far as tensing to do so when the agony in his middle stopped him. He sank against their luggage with a groan. Heart pounding, he blurted, “Don’t you dare hurt her.”
The Athena File Page 22
