Shawn put the call on speaker, but the call once again went to voice mail.
The hair on the back of Ryan’s neck rose. Nadia might be in a meeting, but Dale would have taken a call from Shawn. Unless he couldn’t.
Shawn tried to call Dale a second time with the same result. He ended the call without leaving a message and dialed another number. Kevon, the operative that had taken Dale’s spot manning the hotel lobby answered on the first ring.
“I need you to find out where Dale and Miss Shelton are right now,” Shawn barked.
Ryan didn’t hear Kevon’s reply because his phone rang at that moment.
Nadia.
Relief flooded through him. He punched the button to accept the call.
“Nadia.”
But it wasn’t Nadia’s voice that came from the other end of the line.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” Smith’s voice flowed over the line.
A moment passed before fear gave way to rage and Ryan regained the ability to speak. “Where is Nadia? If you’ve hurt her, I swear—”
“Calm down, Mr. West. Miss Shelton is fine. And she will remain so as long as you convey Nate Shelton to me,” Smith responded.
“It hasn’t been forty-eight hours.”
“And yet my sources tell me you have already located Nate. I knew you were good, but I am impressed.”
“Let Nadia go.”
“Of course. Miss Shelton is just...a little insurance. As soon as you turn Nathan Shelton over to me, I will release her.”
A knot tightened in Ryan’s stomach. He knew better than to trust Smith. He should have moved faster, should never have let Nadia leave the safe house this morning.
As if he could hear his brother’s thoughts, Shawn dropped a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, steadying him.
“Where?” Ryan asked.
Smith gave an address.
“One hour, Mr. West. Be ready to trade.”
Chapter Twenty
Nadia opened her eyes, blinking until her glassy vision came into focus. She was lying on a cot, a flat tin roof high above her. Rolling her head to the side, she saw large windows running in a horizontal line along the midpoint of the four surrounding walls. Through their dirty panes, she could see nothing but night. She slowly pushed up to a sitting position and waited for the room to stop spinning. Her head ached, and her stomach roiled. A sound from the far side of the room drew her attention. Lincoln Smith.
“There is aspirin and water on the table next to you.” Smith sat at a card table a couple dozen feet away. “My sincere apologies for my friend’s heavy-handedness.” Smith shot a glare at the man from the hotel room. “Rest assured we have discussed how a lady should be treated.”
The same man who’d struck Dale, and presumably her, hung his head, chastised. But when Smith looked away, the man’s gaze returned to Smith once more, his expression morphing into a glower that sent a chill running down Nadia’s spine.
She swallowed two aspirin, washing them down with water. “Where are we?”
Smith waved away her question. “No need to worry yourself with trivial details.”
“Why have you brought me here?”
“Although I like to leave innocent family members out of my business dealings, I am not a patient man. Unfortunately, you are the best motivation to get both your brother and Mr. West to do what I desire.”
Icy fear raced through her veins. “Nate.”
Smith shook his head. “I know this must be distressing for you.”
“I have money. It will take some time, but I can come up with six million. Six million, and Nate is free of all this.”
Smith looked at her with a mixture of pity and sympathy. “Making promises he could not keep is how your brother got himself into trouble. Don’t make the same mistake.”
Nadia glared. “That’s more than half of what Nate owes you.”
Smith stood and moved closer to where she still sat on the cot, forcing her to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. “It’s not about money at this point. I won’t let anyone get away with humiliating me. Ripping me off. Where I come from, it would be seen as an intolerable weakness.”
“So you would kill a man to allay your insecurities.” Nadia didn’t hide her revulsion.
Fury, dark and malicious, lit Smith’s eyes. “Be careful, Miss Shelton.”
The cell phone on the card table rang. Smith stepped back, snatching the phone from the table. He listened for less than ten seconds, then returned the phone to the table.
Headlights swept across the windows at the front of the warehouse.
“They’re here. Get her into the office there.” Smith pointed to the row of windowless offices lining the side wall of the warehouse.
The goon grabbed her arm and all but carried her to the middle office. He shoved her into the office. The door snapped shut before she’d righted herself and turned around. The lights in the room were on, probably controlled by a switch outside the door, illuminating a space with bare white walls and not much else. The office had been stripped of everything except a metal desk pushed against the wall, one of its legs propped up with a brick.
Nadia tried the handle on the door and, unsurprisingly, found it wouldn’t turn. The lock looked to be nothing more than the cheap interior kind found at every hardware store in the country. It seemed of little use to break it, with Smith right outside the door, but she couldn’t sit here and let Ryan and Nate walk into a trap. And she had no illusions that a trap was exactly what Smith had planned.
Voices sounded from outside the office.
“Where is Nadia?”
Ryan!
“Now, now, Mr. West. I promise you no harm has come to Miss Shelton. I am a man of my word.”
“If you were a man of your word, Smith, Nadia wouldn’t be here at all.” Rage poured from Ryan’s words. “Where is she?”
“Miss Shelton, would you be so kind as to let Mr. West know you are perfectly content.”
Content wasn’t exactly how she’d define her current emotional state, but Ryan sounded as if he was hanging on to his temper by a thread. The last thing the situation needed was for him to think she was hurt.
“I’m fine. I’m locked in one of the offices.”
“Hang on. I’m going to get you out of here.”
Not if she got out of here first. She focused on doing just that, blocking out Ryan’s and Smith’s angry words coming from the other side of the door. Ryan didn’t want to hand Nate over to Smith before she was out of danger. Smith was not in agreement with that plan.
Nadia looked up. If the office door wasn’t an option...
White pockmarked drop panels formed the ceiling. She doubted the panels would hold her weight, but maybe she could crawl along the top of the wall.
And go where?
Dropping into the middle of the warehouse floor onto a group of men who undoubtedly carried more weapons than she’d ever laid eyes on did not seem a good idea. Yet, staying in this room left her a sitting duck. Even if she was only able to shift over an office or two she’d have the element of surprise on her side.
She hauled herself onto the desk and teetered for a moment before finding her balance like a surfer catching a wave. Once she was sure the desk wouldn’t throw her off, she pushed the panel closest to her up and away from the metal frame.
Taking a deep breath, she jumped, grabbed the top of the wall and pulled herself onto its narrow width.
She exhaled exhilaration and fear and began crawling along the wall.
“This is getting tiresome,” Smith’s agitated voice carried into the ceiling. “Produce Mr. Shelton, or I’ll have my man here put a bullet in your pretty little girlfriend. I’m sure you don’t think you can dispatch me and get to her before a bullet does.”
She didn’t wait for Ryan’s respon
se.
The ceiling of the office next to the one she’d been in was missing several tiles. It wasn’t as far as she’d hoped to get, but from what she’d heard, she didn’t have long before someone came looking for her.
She crawled to the adjacent office. Thankfully, the setup here was the same as in the office she’d left, with the desk pushed against the wall. Unlike the office she’d come from, this one did have a small window near the door.
She dropped down onto the desk, careful to stay out of view. She froze at the thud of her feet meeting the desktop. Seconds passed, and no one rushed through the door.
A pile of crumpled clothes near the desk caught her eye. It took a moment for her to realize that someone wore the clothes.
It looked like Smith had caught up with his rogue employee. Taras Ledebev lay on the floor, his face a bloody patchwork of bruises. His chest fell in slow, shallow breaths that made it clear he was in serious trouble.
The whine of a metal door opening filled the warehouse.
“Mr. Shelton. I’m glad you could finally join us.”
She chanced a peek through the window.
Ryan stood beside Nate, steps inside the warehouse’s open door, his gun held outstretched toward Smith. Smith had adopted a similar posture with his stance and gun.
She wouldn’t let Nate turn himself over to a killer to save her.
“I’m here. Now let my sister go.”
Nadia heard the door in the next room open.
A beat past. “She’s gone.”
Anger hardened Ryan’s face. “What game are you playing, Smith?”
“She must be in one of those rooms. Find her,” Smith barked.
Nadia scanned the room for something to defend herself with. This office had been stripped similar to the other, but a broom and bucket had been left in a corner. It wasn’t much of a plan, but if she could incapacitate Smith’s helper, it would increase the odds in their favor.
She grasped the broom in a batter’s stance and waited to the side of the door.
The door swung open, and Smith’s goon stomped in, gun in hand.
Nadia swung the broom handle, connecting with the man’s hard stomach with enough force to send vibrations up her arm.
He bent at the waist, his large frame blocking the door. He’d had the wind knocked out of him, but he was rallying fast.
She raised the broom again, preparing to bring it down across the back of his neck.
The man raised his gun. “I wouldn’t do that if I was you. Drop it.”
Nadia opened her hands and let the broom fall to the floor.
“Move.” The man waved his gun toward the door, stepping away from it to give her room to exit.
She took pride in the fact that he was still hunched a bit as he followed her out of the office.
Smith smiled without looking at her. “You are a fighter, I’ll give you that, Miss Shelton. But I tire of these games.” His smile dropped. “An even exchange, Mr. West? Miss Shelton will walk toward you at the same time Mr. Shelton makes his way to me, yes?”
“No!” Nadia called out.
“Shut up.” The man behind her pushed her forward, farther from the office.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed, never leaving Smith’s face. He nodded assent.
“Okay. Move.” Smith waved her toward Ryan and Nate with his gun. “But not too fast.”
Nadia took a step, and Nate did the same.
Another step forward. Nate stepped forward too.
She felt as if she was involved in a weird mirror-image wedding march, but this was no happy occasion. Nate was effectively walking to his death. She couldn’t let that happen.
Nadia stopped walking halfway between Smith and Ryan.
“I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this. I’m sorry for everything,” Nate said, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Nate, don’t do this. You can’t trade yourself for me.” Nadia didn’t try to stop her tears from falling.
“Don’t worry, sis. Everything will be all right. Just keep walking.” Nate stepped away from her, toward Smith.
She turned, a hand outstretched to reach for Nate.
“Nadia, come on. Let me get you out of here, sweetheart.”
Ryan still held his gun pointed at Smith, but his gaze flicked to hers for a moment. She wasn’t sure whether he was trying to communicate something to her or if it was just unbridled hope that this was part of a plan to get them all out of this unscathed, but she dropped her hand and moved forward.
It felt like hours, but she finally made it to Ryan’s side.
“Keep going, sweetheart. I’ll be right behind you.”
“No. Not without Nate.” The words barely escaped her mouth before a pair of large arms thrust through the open warehouse doors, grabbing her and yanking her into the dark night.
Behind her, glass shattered, and men shouted incomprehensible words. Three thunderous booms preceded a flash and the rapidly repeated bangs that could only be gunfire.
Nadia felt herself being lifted, and then the world turned upside down. Her torso made contact with a broad shoulder, knocking the wind from her for a moment. The ground sped by beneath her.
Moments later, she was placed on her feet and looked up into Shawn West’s eyes.
The fear-fueled temper she’d been ready to unleash died at the sight of the warehouse.
Smoke billowed out of the shattered windows, and flames licked the roof. The blue door Shawn pulled her through was gone, a gaping hole where it had been.
“Ryan!”
A beefy arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her from running back toward the warehouse.
“No. You need to get checked out by the medics,” Shawn said, showing no signs of strain against her struggling.
“But Nate and Ryan are still in there!”
“Ryan is good at what he does. If anyone can get himself and your brother out of there, it’s him. And the first thing both of them will want to know is that you are okay.”
Nadia let Shawn lead her to the back of an ambulance. He was right. There was nothing she could do but get out of the way.
There were people everywhere, many wearing windbreakers embossed with FBI, others clad in black and wearing bulletproof vests.
Please let Ryan and Nate have on bulletproof vests.
She knew what gunfire sounded like, and there had been more than enough bullets fired to take down both men.
She stared at the warehouse, trying to identify Ryan and Nate among the people moving in and around the building. The frantic pace of her rescuers slowed, and three fire trucks moved in to begin dealing with the flames.
Still, there was no sign of Ryan or Nate.
“Nadia.” Nate’s weary voice sounded seconds before he rounded the open ambulance doors, leaning heavily on Ryan.
She wasn’t sure which man to hug first, so she threw her arms around them both, dragging them into a three-person hug.
Nate groaned, and Nadia pulled back, the relief that had soared through her at seeing Nate and Ryan in one piece replaced by concern.
“Nate took two in the chest. He had a vest on,” Ryan added quickly, “but he’ll still need to go get checked out, and he’ll be sore for a while.”
Ryan helped Nate lower himself into the back of the ambulance, then stepped away so the EMTs would have room.
Nadia stepped into Ryan’s arms, carefully this time in case he too had been injured. She tilted her head back so she could look into his eyes. “Thank you.”
“Mr. Shelton, I’m Agent Kenzi Johnson with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I’ll be accompanying you to the hospital.”
Nadia tensed, and Ryan ran a hand up and down her back. It was too much to hope that Nate would get out of the mess he’d made completely unscathed. She didn’t know what the p
enalty was for faking one’s death, but whatever it was, they’d deal with it. Nate and Ryan were alive, and that was what she wanted to concentrate on now.
A throat cleared behind them. “I’ll pick you up at the hospital,” Gideon said, the statement obviously meant for Agent Johnson.
The agent narrowed her eyes at Gideon. “That won’t be necessary.”
“I’ll stop by the coffee shop you like on the way,” Gideon continued as if Agent Johnson hadn’t spoken. “Mocha caramel latte, right?”
A low growl sounded in Agent Johnson’s throat. “Fine. Do what you like. I don’t have time to argue with you. I have to interview a witness.”
Agent Johnson hoisted herself into the back of the ambulance with Ryan.
Ryan’s, Shawn’s and even Nadia’s mouths fell open at the sight of Gideon’s mouth curling into a smile.
The ambulance doors closed, and moments later it raced away from the scene.
“I can’t believe it,” Shawn said, his voice full of awe as he watched Gideon stroll away, a definite skip in his step. “You and Gideon have women, and I’m single. How is that even possible?”
Ryan dropped a hand on his brother’s shoulder and pulled Nadia closer to his side. “You know what they say, bro. Love comes at you when you least expect it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ryan had shot Smith and the man who’d kidnapped Nadia. Smith’s wound would heal, but the other man hadn’t been as lucky. Neither was Taras. Both men had succumbed to their wounds on the way to the hospital. Nadia wasn’t sure how she felt about the men’s deaths. On the one hand, they were the criminals who’d kidnapped her. On the other hand, they’d been killed so she could be saved. It was something she’d have to deal with in the coming days.
One thing she wouldn’t have to worry about was Smith. He was somewhere in the hospital in FBI custody, under whose mandate he’d likely stay for the rest of his natural life, based on the information Agent Johnson had shared.
“The FBI aren’t the only ones with good news,” Detective Parsmons stated once Agent Johnson finished. “We caught a man attempting to set fire to a business in Lower Manhattan. An arsonist for hire. He was quick to give up his many contractors, one of whom was Mike Dexter.”
Pursuit of the Truth Page 18
