The List- Alyssa's Revenge

by Casi McLean

  “Sure, but don’t you need me with you?” Hanna twirled a strand of her hair.

  “We’ve got this. Now grab a snack from the kitchen and hop to bed. We’ll be leaving at the crack of dawn so don’t be upset if we aren’t here when you wake up. Steel will be here in Ops if you need anything but please keep an eye on Mikey at all times, okay?”

  She nodded and turned toward the door then spun and threw her arms around Harper. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  An unfamiliar stream of warmth swirled down Harper’s back and she smiled. Within a few days, Hanna had managed to wiggle into a corner of Harper’s heart she never knew existed, and she loved the sensation the child evoked.

  §

  Hours before first light, the team set plans in motion, executing the details with precision. Persimmon Tree Road conveniently ran alongside the prestigious Congressional Country Club, which was only a stone’s throw from the target home. Adjacent to the golf course, acreage owned by the rich and elite buffered their secluded homes with a wide array of foliage from shrubs to giant oaks. Many of the trees draped and hung over the road, providing a perfect spot for Harper’s predawn conked-out car escapade as well as an ideal spot for Parker to cover her.

  Once Damien’s route became clear, Kara and Logan re-routed his drive with detours, malfunctioning stoplights and construction vehicles to direct him appropriately. And with the unlikely prospect of five a.m. traffic on a Saturday morning, Wyatt easily set in place security from every angle to cover Harper in the target zone.

  Stephanie edged the ops van into a shrubbery hollow near the corner, amongst some abandoned beer cans where she had a view of both sites. The undergrowth had, at some point in time, probably provided a hiding spot for some teens testing the effects of alcohol.

  Setting up the scene for the kill, Harper leaned over the antique engine and loosened the distributer cap so the vehicle wouldn’t start. Her attire, the best she could come up with on short notice, nailed the look she’d hoped to accomplish. Wearing platform heels, tight faded jeans with rips in all the intimate places, and a slouchy, black-and-white striped shirt—two sizes too big—angled to show off a bare shoulder, she flaunted her figure and totally rocked the part of a helpless teen. The tattered jeans alone would undoubtedly attract the attention of a low life like Damien. But French-braiding her hair across her forehead then clipping the braid so the length of her hair draped well below her shoulder, she created a hairstyle that matched current teen trends adding to the image of a much-younger girl. After admiring her handiwork, she tucked a tiny camera into her braid at the clip, arranging it to be completely unnoticeable. Earbuds in place, she waited with the hood up, leaning over the fender of her beautifully restored 1969 Mercedes SE, which appeared to be broken-down.

  When Damien rounded the corner and drove toward Harper, he slowed his black van and stared as he drove by. He didn’t roll ten feet farther before switching gears then backing up alongside the staged target. Rolling down the window, he waved. “It’s awful early in the morning for a young girl to be broken down by the side of the road. Do you need some help?”

  In her most helpless tone, Harper replied. “Oh my gosh, thank you. I don’t know what’s wrong. The engine just stopped, and I have to get Daddy’s car back before he wakes up. Do you think you could get it to start?”

  “I’ll give her a try.” He parked the van several feet beyond then returned to the scene and fidgeted with a few wires. Head buried under the hood, he opened the oil and water caps, peering into each before speaking. “Oh no, I don’t think I can fix your car without tools.” Angling his head to peer under his arm, he raised a brow and tossed her a sorry-kid gaze. “You live close by?”

  “Just a few blocks away.” Harper tapped her foot. “I guess I could walk home, sneak into the garage and grab some tools. What do you need?”

  Damien withdrew his head then turned toward Harper. “Just a Philips-head screwdriver and a hammer, but I’m afraid I don’t have time to wait.”

  Wide-eyed, she wrung her hands and gave him her innocent worried face. “Oh please, mister. You’d be a lifesaver. It wouldn’t take that long. I promise.”

  Damien stared and rubbed his stubbly chin. Snapping his fingers, he stiffened with a smile pasted across his face. “I have an idea. Why don’t you let me drive you home? Then you can sneak inside, snatch the tools I need, and we’ll return in no time. Your car is an easy fix if I had those tools.”

  “She twisted her lips to one side. “I don’t know…”

  Immediately, Damien held up a splayed hand. “It’s okay, honey. I understand. You don’t know me from the man in the moon. I wish I could help but stopping here has already made me late. I just can’t wait any longer.” Turning toward his van, he glanced over his shoulder. “Good luck with your car…and your dad.”

  “No. Wait.” She rushed toward him. “I’ll go with you.” She drew in a long breath then huffed as she blew it out. “If I’m grounded again, I’ll miss Taylor’s party. Let’s go. I can sneak in, grab the tools, then sneak out again. I do it all the time and my parents don’t have a clue. We can be back here in three minutes.” She smiled.

  He nodded. “There you go.” As they approached the van, he eyed her. “Ya know, I just might have a few tools in the back of my van. Let’s take a look-see.”

  “Oh, that would be awesome.” Harper glowed with appreciation and followed him to the rear of the van. So far, the scheme had played out according to plan. Once inside of the mansion, though, the situation could spin downward in a heartbeat.

  “Let’s see what we have in this tub.” Clutching the handle, he took a step back as he opened the rear door then stood behind her.

  Daylight shattered the darkness within. Harper caught a glimpse of a young girl, before a hand covered her nose and mouth, choking her breath from moving in or out. Anticipating Damien’s moves, likely before he’d even thought of them, she braced for a fall.

  Damien shoved his knees into Harper’s.

  Her legs gave way and she fell into the van, slamming her head against a hard surface.

  After tossing her feet inside, Damien slammed the door.

  Parker’s voice screamed in her ear. “Eagle One is down. My orders are to take no action. Wyatt…advise. Again, Eagle One is down.

  “Eagle One’s eyes went dark,” Kara added.

  A stabbing pain pulsated behind Harper’s ear as the engine lurched forward and sped off, spitting gravel in its wake. A cold shiver ran down her back as her thoughts rolled through a list of what-ifs.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Anticipating Damien’s moves, Harper knew she’d be shoved into the back of his van, but she didn’t predict her head would hit hard metal benches affixed to the sides of the vehicle. Surrounded by pitch-black darkness, she felt for the bench seat where she saw the young girl only moments earlier. She ran her hand over the flat surface then dragged herself upward and sat. Tapping her earbud, she whispered, “Parker do you have a signal?”

  “Thank God. Ten-four4, Director. We have eyes on the van. The perp is headed straight for the target property. I’m moving into position B. Are you okay?”

  “Are you okay?” A second voice whispered through the darkness, her tone soft and timid.

  “Yes. Are you?” Harper replied to both consecutively.

  “Repeat, Eagle One.”

  “I’m fine. Confirming contact with Baby Bird,” Harper murmured.

  “Ten-four4, Director.”

  A stab of pain stung her head and she ran her fingers over the damage. Touching gently, she confirmed blood, but thankfully the wound felt superficial. She strained to see through the darkness but to no avail. Considering how to approach the girl, she edged closer. The last thing she wanted to do was scare the child.

  The girl leaned close and whispered. “Who are you talking to?”

  “Friends.”

  “Oh. I wanted to call out to you and tell you to run, but Damien would have hurt us both i
f I made a sound.”

  Harper’s heart broke. At fourteen, Sarah had experienced more than most adults and her reaction reflected knowledge and pain of a mature woman. “That’s okay. My name is Harper. Are you Sarah?” Through darkness she heard a gasp and reached forward, hoping to touch the girl’s arm or leg, but all she grabbed was a handful of air. Only a few minutes remained before Damien would pull into the driveway of his destination. Harper needed to connect with the girl now.

  “Um hm. How do you know my name?”

  “Hanna sent me.”

  “Oh. Hanna.” Her voice trembled. “Is she okay?”

  “Hanna is fine but she’s very worried about you. I’m here to rescue you.”

  “But Damien caught you. Now we both need to be rescued.”

  “Don’t worry. I let him catch me so I could find you.” Again, Harper reached forward, this time leaning toward the child’s voice until her fingertips touched skin…an inch farther…she grazed her wrist but held still, purposely not gripping Sarah’s hand but touching softly. “We’re going to get you out of here and away from Damien. Okay?”

  “I just want to go home.” Sarah edged her hand closer.

  “I want that for you too, sweetie. Do you know where Damien is taking you?” A silent teardrop fell onto Harper’s arm and she could hold back no longer. Grasping Sarah’s hand, she gently squeezed. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.

  “You don’t know Damien. Nothing will ever be fine again.” She sniffed. “Even with two of us, we’ll never escape.”

  “I’m not alone, Remember? I brought friends and they are very close.” With her other hand, Harper searched along the child’s arm then shoulder until her fingers brushed Sarah’s damp cheek. She ran her fingers over the moist skin and swept away shed tears.

  “Damien is taking me to the big house. I hope I get to play in the princess room again. Hanna was supposed to come too, but when she ran away, he got so mad I was afraid he’d kill me.”

  “But he didn’t. And once we get through this, you’ll be safe. You’ll be able to go home.”

  The van took a sharp turn then paused but the motor still hummed, alerting Harper of their imminent destination. Damien was at the gate requesting entrance to the property. Scooting closer, she draped an arm around the girl’s shoulder. “We’re going to escape. I promise. Just stay near me. No matter what happens, okay?” She drew the child close and felt Sarah’s thin, frail frame, sparking memories of Afghan children she once comforted during the throes of battle. She shoved the raw emotion into the back of her mind and whispered, “Confirm the van’s location.”

  Parker’s voice pierced the silence. “Vehicle entering target property.”

  “We have eyes. Did you have time to brief Baby Bird?” Wyatt’s voice commanded complete control, but Harper sensed his concern.

  “Affirmative.”

  With a jolt, the van drove forward for several seconds before it halted. The engine stopped, and the driver side door released followed by footsteps. Damien’s muffled voice wasn’t clear, but when he pounded on the side of the van as he approached the rear, Harper got the message.

  A sudden blaze of sunlight poured inside, and Harper squinted to focus on the figure standing at the threshold.

  “Confirm Eagle One eyes, Director.” Kara whispered.

  Harper nodded in acknowledgement.

  “It’s your lucky day, girls.” Damien chuckled then tilting his head, he eyed Harper up and down. “Didn’t your mommy and daddy warn you not to get into a car with a stranger?” Again, he chuckled. “No matter. You see this ring?” He held up a splayed hand and wiggled his ring finger, displaying a gold band with a familiar insignia. “There’s a paralyzing drug inside the emblem. Either one of you move a muscle without me telling you to and I’ll zap you.” He raised his brows. “Don’t test me.” He motioned for the girls to step out of the van and they obeyed.

  Two very large men dressed in black suits with white shirts and crisp blue ties stood at the foot of the stairs that led to the front door. With feet spread, their hands clasped in front of their hips.

  Harper stared at the men. “Who are those two thugs?”

  “They are your escorts and they’re watching your every move. You try anything stupid and they’ll crush you.”

  “Why did you bring us here?” She gazed around the property. “No way you live in this neighborhood.”

  “Shut up you smartass little bitch.”

  Edging behind Harper, Sarah clung to her arm, only peeking around to watch Damien.

  “You’re my property now and you do as I say. If you’re lucky––and I mean damn lucky––you’ll be sold off to some rich foreign billionaire and live in the lap of luxury.”

  Harper feigned innocence. “Sold to a…You’re selling us?”

  “Ha. That’s right sweet thing. And who knows what kind of daddy you’ll have this time. Once those big boys take you, I’ll be rich, and I don’t give a shit what happens to you two.” He grimaced then inspected them from head to foot. “You’re a real looker” ––he undressed her with his eyes––“and Sarah there is young.” He rubbed his hands together. “They love the young ones. If I was you. I’d smile pretty and show off my assets.”

  “You bastard,” Harper bit out.

  “Why you little…” Drawing his arm back to slap, or punch her, he must have thought better of the idea as he dropped his arm…likely realizing if he assaulted them, he might injure his cash cows. He shifted his gaze to the burly thugs. “Get them out of here.”

  Without uttering a word, the men approached, lifted Harper and Sarah then flung them over their shoulders like pieces of raw meat. Turning, they marched up the front steps toward the double doors.

  Damien called after them. “And tell Mr. Sebastian I’m waiting for my money.”

  “Let me go, you son-of-a-bitch.” Harper pounded on her escort’s back, but he didn’t even flinch.

  Emily’s voice broke through the silence. “Once Damien has his money, he’ll disappear. We might lose him for good––and the rest of his stable––unless we tail the bastard to his hideout.” She paused a beat. “Ash and I can shadow him, Wyatt, if you think you guys have Harper’s situation under control.”

  “Do it.” Wyatt’s command resounded. “But don’t make contact, Emily. Stay out of sight. You got that, Ash?”

  “Ten-four, Wyatt. I won’t let anything happen to Em. You have my word.”

  Once inside, Harper studied the layout. She’d need to know exactly where they were to enable the escape.

  The moment the front door closed behind the thugs Parker’s voice rang in Harper’s ear. “Eagle One. Requesting permission to move in.”

  “No. Stand down,” she barked.

  Her goon snarled, shifting his thick neck.

  Instantly, Harper calmed herself. The threat had become far too real causing her gut instinct to kick into gear. This was a mission, she reminded herself. As long as the team had her back, she’d survive.

  Wyatt’s voice spoke low and steady. “Don’t take this too far, Harper. Anticipate the overthrow.”

  Again, concern laced his voice. She wanted to answer but her last retort rose her escort’s suspicion. Another reply might cause him to search her and if he found the earbud or hair-camera, all hell would break loose.

  Hearing an elevator door open, she craned her neck to see around her captor’s rotund form, but she couldn’t. He leaned forward, blocking her view but must have pressed the floor he wanted. The doors closed and she felt a jerk before a downward sensation. Glancing toward Sarah, her throat tightened. The terror etched on the little girl’s face broke her heart. Drawing a finger to her lips, Harper mouthed, “It’s okay.”

  Sarah nodded and feigned a slight smile.

  The elevator doors reopened to a long, dimly lit hallway with a few doors sprinkled along both sides. The entry at the end of the hall opened as they approached. Inside the room, a series of what Harper could only desc
ribe as May Day poles on a circular base lay in wait. Each glittering circle attached to wheels with a pole projecting upward through the middle and straps attached at various levels.

  The men placed Harper and Sarah on separate platforms and began to disrobe them.

  Sarah cried out to Harper.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. We’ve got this.” She turned toward the men then impetuously spit out a command. “Divert your eyes.”

  The goon glared at Harper for a split second before laughing, then returned to his task.

  “Mission accomplished,” Harper whispered under her breath. The command was meant for the team, not the brute.

  Once stripped, they were tied to a pole with both hands above their head and a strap around each ankle then rolled into another room alongside several other girls in the same predicament. Harper gazed around the room at each young girl, sickened at the thought of what she saw. Each child had a story, but what they had in common wasn’t their past, it was their future. The knot in Harper’s stomach twisted tighter as the reality solidified. Every one of these girls––including Harper––now waited in line to be sold into slavery.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Wyatt knew hacking the mansion’s security systems was child’s play for Kara. She rigged the network monitors to display a recorded loop and altered the complex alarms to show an all-clear signal all within a matter of minutes. Unbeknownst to the guards watching the grounds, anyone could now stroll into the house and nose around without risking detection. With Kara plotting his course based on heat signals, Parker easily slipped by the ground watch then entered the residence through the kitchen.

  Watching his movements on the van monitor, Wyatt tapped his fingers on the table, his anger bubbling in his gut. When the fury reached a crescendo, he shoved back his chair and stood. No longer could he sit in the van and watch with Harper’s life in danger. “To hell with protocol. I’m going in.”