Connect the Dots

by Denise Robbins

  There was nothing to do and no way out. Charley sat on the mattress, pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them. Back against the cement wall, she listened to Meatloaf belt out the lyrics to Bat Out of Hell.

  Pressing a cheek to her knee, she thought, this was her hell. Now how would she get out of it?

  FORTY-SIX

  By the time Waldo landed the plane at Incirlik Air Base, Charley’s flight was gone. All Jake wanted to know now is if the plane was still enroute to Tbilisi or if it had detoured. So here he stood, in a dinky office, addressing Colonel Grey, vice commander of the 39th Air Base Wing at Incirlik Air Base, Turkey.

  “Why did you let a non-military plane land here?”

  “I followed an order.”

  “Whose?”

  The man dressed in all blue sat across the metal desk in his military issued chair glaring at him.

  “Did anyone disembark?”

  “Not to my knowledge.”

  “Who would have any knowledge?”

  The Colonel picked up the phone’s handset and barked an order. A couple of minutes after that a Command Master Chief Sergeant Ellis walked through the Colonel’s door and saluted. Jake went through the same routine with the younger Chief getting the same results.

  “Bullshit!” Jake swore slamming out of the tin-can building, stomping back toward Waldo’s plane. “Damn, stupid, tight-lipped, tight-assed wingmen.”

  A throat cleared and he jerked his head around to see Waldo coming up next to him with two cups of coffee in hand. He handed one to him.

  “Compliments of the US Air Force.”

  Jake eyed the cup.

  “It’s safe.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Jake muttered and went up the gangplank stairs.

  Waldo came in after him, shut and secured the hatch and took the pilot’s seat. “I take it you did not get any information?”

  Jake shook his head then gulped a swallow of the coffee and let the caffeine soothe his nerves. “They claim no one got off the plane.”

  “Well, I can tell you that according to her GPS device, she is still moving in the direction of Russia. And, according to your friend, Ruby, no flight plan changes have been filed. By all accounts, whoever has Charley is still headed to Tbilisi.”

  “Then let’s get there.”

  * * * *

  Once airborne, Waldo spoke. “I had a thought.”

  Jake glanced over at Waldo. “And?”

  “If we land this puppy in Tbilisi, we will be announcing our arrival to people we may not want to know. Why not land in Yerevan and cross the border by vehicle?”

  Jake sat back, contemplating the idea. It would give him a chance to jump ahead of the kidnappers. If they bypassed Tbilisi all together, he would be in place. If not, he could still get to Charley without giving them any warning.

  “Makes sense.”

  Waldo grinned at his agreement.

  “However, I will be the one going after Charley. You stay with the plane.”

  “That’s crap!”

  “No. Think about it. We need to get in and out. The faster we get this bird off the ground and in the air the better. Plus, if I miss them in transit, you can be here to let me know and I can haul ass back.”

  Waldo’s brow furrowed then flattened and he inclined his head.

  “We need to contact Ruby and give her a head’s up. We’re going to Yerevan.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  She must have fallen asleep because she woke up with her face pressed into the musty smelling mattress. Sitting up, she wiped the back of her mouth with her orange sleeve and eyed the bottle of water. As she did, her stomach revolted and grumbled.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Better to stay alive and healthy than dehydrate and let them win.

  Charley uncurled her legs and got to her feet, the chains clanking as she moved reminded her of her whereabouts. Like she needed reminding. She stretched. Her body ached all over. She went for the bottle of water and before drinking it, checked the seal for any signs of tampering. Seeing none, she opened it and started to guzzle then remembered that was a sure way of getting sick, so she slowed down and took small swallows.

  Then a thought struck her. What if they only give one bottle of water a day? Charley took one more swallow then recapped the bottle and set it back down.

  “Now what?” She whispered the question to herself, standing next to the steel door.

  She was not getting out of here unless by some miracle somebody left the door unlocked and a gun for her. Or, somebody came after her. Jake. Would he come? How would he even know where she was?

  Looking for answers, Charley tipped her head back to peer up at the gray ceiling. Her hands tugged at her hair in frustration. Why had she pushed Jake away? She straightened, her hands falling to her sides. She knew the reason. She had been frightened.

  What if someone did to Jake, what had been done to Kyle? Was Jake really a special agent for some group or had that been another lie? Charley shook her head. She could no longer tell truth from lies. Screw that!

  She paced the tiny cell. Five strides and she pivoted to another wall. Think, Charley. Assume, Jake told the truth. If he did then Jake would be smart enough to find her. He had to be. He figured out she was CIA and how to get into her barn. She stopped. If he knew how to gain access to the barn then he would be able to access her files.

  “Why that little…” He probably already had been. At this point, she would be grateful for that fact and ring his neck later.

  With the blare of loud music roaring through the cement walls, Charley hadn’t heard the door open. She barely had time to leap back when two hooded guards rushed her, pulled a hood over her own head, restrained her wrists with cuffs, and unhooked her shackles from the wall. The next thing she knew, the two men, one on each side of her, hustled her out, practically carrying her away from her cell by her underarms.

  Where were they taking her? Scream. She should scream! Thinking better of it, Charley bit her tongue. She did not want to give them a reason to hurt her.

  They deposited her back on her feet, then she felt the tug of her ankle shackles followed by a clicking noise. He raised her wrists high above her head and she heard another lock snick into place. When they released her, she could not drop her arms and the only thing she could feel was the cold cement against her feet and the rough cinder against her jumper.

  “Please. You’ve got to let me out. My name is Charley Duston. I am a human intelligence officer with the CIA.”

  No movement.

  “I’m a US citizen. You cannot do this. Someone will come after me.”

  “No one will come after you.”

  Charley’s eyes flung open wide but all she saw was the inside of the black hood. “Who are you?”

  “No one knows where you are.”

  The deep voice grated against her spine like nails on a chalkboard.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Poof.” The man snapped his fingers near her hooded face and Charley jerked, hitting her head on the wall.

  “You are a ghost now. You no longer exist.”

  Heart racing out of control, she concentrated on his voice, his words. He wanted to make her more frightened, make her feel like resistance was futile. Typical strategy.

  “Oh, yeah. I got news for you. If I am a ghost then you should be afraid of the dark. Remember ghosts haunt people.”

  That earned her a slap on the back hard enough to knock the wind out of her and hit her nose against concrete. As a result, the hood ripped just below her left nostril. She could see the guy’s shoes. Black, shiny, big. Like that would be enough for identification. Not!

  “Feel better now? You like hitting defenseless women?”

  This time he grabbed her left breast and twisted. She fought the scream as tears slid down her face but finally gave in to the pain and yelled.

  “Stop! Please!”

  The hand let loose and Charley sighed with relief, her chin dropped to her chest. />
  “We’ll see each other soon.” The man whispered his parting words into her hood near her ear and his hot breath caused a frisson of fear to trickle down her spine.

  She heard a door open and shut.

  “First round to you.” That was okay. She knew that voice.

  FORTY-EIGHT

  They landed in Yerevan and even though he was tired, Jake was energized. According to Waldo’s little blip on his satellite tracker, Charley was in Tbilisi. It would not be long now and he would have her safe and back where she belonged. In his arms.

  Descending the stairs with his duffle slung over his shoulder, and Waldo on his tail, he spotted the man sent to greet them and nodded at him. At the bottom, Max Stone stepped up and shook his hand. Max was a former FBI agent, started working as a special agent under Michael Augustson’s organization a couple years back after his own FBI boss setup Max’s partner and then girlfriend to be murdered. Now, Max had a new partner, his fiancée Samantha Spenser, and Jake thought they were perfect. Perfect partners. Perfect agents. Jake would and has teamed up with either or both of them on several occasions. Right now, he was glad to see Max.

  “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Max shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.”

  Jake eyed him for a brief second and inclined his head. Enough said. Max was in Yerevan or another place close by for another reason, another mission.

  “You can spare the Jeep?”

  Max grinned, showing white teeth. “I borrowed it.”

  Borrowed. Yeah, that was code for stole.

  “Unfortunately, I can’t do much more to help out. I have to hang close by.”

  “No problem.”

  “I’ve got your get out of jail free card.” Max reached into his pocket, extracted an envelope, and handed it to him. “I did manage to commandeer a few toys I thought you might need. They’re stuffed in the back seat under a blanket.”

  Jake patted his duffle. “I got everything I need right here.”

  “Except the GPS device.” Waldo stepped forward and held out a hand toward Max. “Waldo Pepper.”

  Jake coughed into his hand covering up his laugh as Max’s jaw dropped open to catch flies. He could relate.

  “The Waldo Pepper?” Max asked shaking the man’s hand and eyeing Jake.

  “Yup.” Jake took the GPS device. “And a real pain in the ass,” he drawled.

  “The boy loves me. Actually, he loves my girl,” Waldo announced with a slap on his back.

  Jake stiffened under Waldo’s hand and when he looked up his gaze met Max’s. He knew what Max was thinking, what he was offering without the words. A year ago, he had helped Max in taking down the man who had killed his former partner, the same man who kidnapped his brother and Samantha. Everything worked out, but it had been close. Now, Max offered the same help.

  He shook his head. “I’ve got this one. Believe me.”

  Max turned his attention back to Waldo. “Your daughter?”

  Waldo cleared his throat and kicked the ground. “No, her father is dead. I’m the surrogate. And I protect what is mine.” The vehemence in his tone left no room for argument. Charley was his.

  “I need to go,” Jake announced.

  “Good luck. You know how to get me if need be.” Max gave a half salute. “Waldo.” He turned and left.

  “I plugged in the coordinates for your return trip. Are you sure I shouldn’t go with you?”

  “I’ll bring her home, Waldo.” He laid a hand on his hero’s shoulder. “You keep yourself safe.”

  “No issue there.” Waldo winked.

  Jake was off, running toward the green Jeep Max delivered. He jumped in, settled his bag on the passenger seat, and started the car up. Before moving, he glanced under the blanket in the back seat and smiled. Plenty of backup.

  Shoving the Jeep into gear, he took off following the directions of the GPS. At the Sadakhlo-Ayrum border, he stopped at the customs office, which also doubles as a bedroom for the official on duty and showed the man his passport. The laid-back official did not even ask for his Visa. As Jake pulled away, he wondered if the guy slept while on duty.

  He had a feeling that even though the border crossing was a piece of cake, the rest of this little excursion would be more difficult than withdrawing from a warm, wet woman.

  FORTY-NINE

  Fighting off the exhaustion, Charley went into a meditative state, shutting out the pain of his slaps and grabs, of the soreness to her stretched and tired muscles. She focused on the puzzle and the pieces she knew. One, she knew the man who had been in there with her wore shiny, black, dress shoes and had large feet. The man was tall. He also obviously had to be in a position of power.

  Why? Why did she think that? Because only a man in power could get others to do his bidding. Only a man in power could convince others to kidnap a US citizen, let alone a CIA operative. The shoes. The shoes told her he was not a military man. He could be ex-military.

  Yes! That made sense. How else do you get military people to follow orders? Either you outrank them or you are ex-military which for some unknown reason automatically grants you immediate respect. Just look at Waldo. All he had to do was pick up the phone and he had any one of his military buddies and their friends doing whatever he requested. No questions asked.

  The turning of the lock had Charley contracting her muscles. Big mistake! She wanted to scream with pain. Relax, she ordered herself, and willed the muscles in her arms, shoulders, and legs to loosen to a resting state. Her ears caught the sound of clothes rustling. Someone entered the room. The door locked again. Only one set of footsteps.

  The blow caught her completely off guard. He punched her in the stomach and when she reflexively went to double-over her bindings prevented her. Breathing hard and fast, she waited for the next one.

  “Are we feeling more amenable now?”

  Charley did not answer. She couldn’t. Her mind tuned into his voice. She knew that deep, resonating tone.

  His hand reached between her thighs and slid up. She squirmed to move away but it was fruitless. In her struggle to avoid his touch, her hood slid. She could see through the cut again. Her eye caught a glimpse of something in his hand. What was it? Blood started pounded in her ears. What was he going to do? Then she saw it. It was not in his hand, it was on it. A ring. On his left hand, he wore a gold ring with the military intelligence insignia on his ring finger.

  Married to the military. She knew it! The Ambassador.

  “Tell me what Kyle told you?” He asked the question with his hand poised between her thighs.

  “About what?”

  “Don’t play coy, Charley.” His tone coaxed as his hand traveled up.

  “He didn’t tell me anything. He was dead. I never got to speak with him.” She heard her own voice shake when she answered and was disgusted. She would not let him know that she was afraid. Think. How could she get her own questions answered?

  “He sent you an email.”

  It was not a question, but a statement of fact. Ha! He knew about the email. How? Was it from Kyle’s own computer, or had he intercepted it?

  “You already know what was in the email.”

  “You worked together for months off and on, you were involved.” He leaned nearer. “I’ve seen you work.” His voice lowered to a murmur. “You know how to twist a man and manipulate him to get what you want.” He stepped back. “What did you have to do to have Kyle spilling his guts? Are you really that good?”

  His hand glided up, touching her between her legs. Charley swallowed the knot of fear and bit down hard on the impulse to throw up. If her hands were free, she would show him the meaning of ‘twisting a man’.

  Whoa! She blinked rapidly behind the black hood. He had seen her work? Where?

  “Is your pussy that good? Did you have Kyle singing like a canary just by letting him dip his stick?”

  Ugh! The man was revolting!

  “Is that why you killed Kyle? Jealousy?”


  “Ha!”

  His hand slipped away and Charley released a quiet breath.

  “Kyle died because he couldn’t follow orders.”

  Orders. She was right.

  “You didn’t have to kill him. Why not request his transfer?”

  “I killed him because having him transferred would have caused too much trouble. Instead, it looks like he was attacked by an insurgent.” He snapped his fingers. “Problem solved.”

  “What did he know that you wanted concealed, Richard?”

  She heard the sharp intake of breath.

  “Or should I address you as US Ambassador to Republic of Georgia, Richard Miles?”

  The hood ripped from her head, Charley blinked to shield her eyes from the bright light and finally confront her captor, Kyle’s boss.

  “You little bitch!”

  “Maybe.” She shrugged a small movement that stung with her arms shackled above her head. She glared back at fierce black eyes and smiled.

  “So he did tell you! I knew it.” Richard stalked away from her then back. “It wasn’t my fault the damned terrorist couldn’t follow orders. After that incident with Onder, Kyle became a liability.”

  “So you bugged my home and intercepted Kyle’s calls and emails?” Had Kyle broke things off with her to protect her not because of some jealous rage over her attack?

  “You gave orders to Onder?”

  Richard nodded once as his hands stroked his gray hairs and Charley wondered if he realized he confirmed her question.

  “You paid him to blow the BTC pipeline and he botched it.”

  “Obviously,” he growled.

  “When he failed, you went back to the PKK and paid the leader to do your dirty work.”