by Dale Mayer
“And you got them out, as I recall.”
“I did, but, of course, you’re not the same afterward. The military didn’t want to keep me in the same line of work, especially after I’d been through something like that. They offered me retirement or a desk job.”
“Not our style,” Killian replied, as he studied the man he used to know, and yet he looked so very different. “It’s a bit of a shock to see you.”
“I’m half waiting for you to call it in,” he said, with a careless shrug.
“Oh, God, I know what happened was terrible, but, hey, I also know you saved your team,” he said. “Nobody else could have done what you did. I’ll be happy to have you watch my back any day.”
And, with that, a little bit more of the tension held in Hatch’s shoulders sagged, and he began to relax. “Oh, well, I don’t know what to—thanks for that,” he said, blowing out a big exhale. “I ended up with a chip on my shoulder, even though I thought I had already dealt with all this shit.”
“A word to the wise,” Killian said. “We never get all this shit dealt with.”
At that, Hatch burst out laughing. “Isn’t that the truth,” he said. “So what are we doing here? Where are we at?”
“Supposed to pick up a woman who was kidnapped, escaped, and then was kidnapped again. We don’t know if it’s the same kidnapper or if it’s a completely different issue.”
“Surely a woman can’t have such bad luck that she would end up with two different kidnapping issues,” Hatch said.
“You wouldn’t think so, wouldn’t you?” he said. “But, on the other hand, this gal apparently has bad luck, all the way around.”
“Interesting. And you’ve just come back from dinner, and I’ve already eaten.” He sat down in a chair and said, “What kind of details do we have?”
Killian quickly shared what little he had.
“And a second ransom note?”
“No, not yet,” he said. “But he demanded a drop in the Yukon. Which is why we’re here now.”
“That makes no sense,” Hatch said.
“I know,” Killian replied. “I told Jerricho it sounded like a setup.”
“It does, indeed,” Hatch said, with a frown. “So … we’re just waiting for him to make contact then?”
“Yes.”
“And do we know for sure that he has the woman?”
“I’ll be asking him for proof, if he calls.”
“Great, so we really don’t know a whole lot.”
“We really don’t.”
“A trip for nothing, maybe, huh?”
“God no, if there’s even a chance to save the woman’s life, it’s worth the trip, but, at the same time, we just don’t know if we really have a case here.”
“That would be great, since it would mean that maybe she wasn’t in trouble,” Hatch said. “So the first kidnapping was the husband?”
“I can’t say that for certain,” Killian cautioned. “I can say that he is looking like a good suspect.”
“Asshole,” he said. “Why can’t people just get divorced?”
“That would make the world a whole lot easier,” he murmured, “but it doesn’t seem to be that way, does it?”
“Nope, so I guess we’ll just sit here, waiting, huh?”
Killian pointed at the bag. “Did you bring this?”
“Yep. As per your instructions.”
“Let’s stash this, connect with the bosses, and see who all knows something.” Killian took off a grate in the wall behind an oversize chair, settling the bag inside, then replaced the grate.
“I don’t quite understand how it is that we have bosses,” Hatch said, “but we don’t really have bosses.”
“Basically the last guy you looked after becomes your handler. So the next mission would be yours, and I’d be your handler.”
“So my boss?”
“No, the decisions would be yours. This time we’ll make them together, you and me in this instance,” he said. “It’s very much a two-man operation.”
“Did your last job go okay?” Hatch asked Killian.
“Can’t say it was wonderful, but it turned out fine.”
“Good,” Hatch said. “So let’s hope this one does too.”
Killian sat down with a laptop and quickly opened it up, logged in on a secure video connection to check on any updates.
Jerricho appeared onscreen and responded, “No update. The father is worried and pressing for action.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Told him that you two were involved and had boots on the ground.”
“Probably not enough information for him to feel comfortable.”
“Well, if it was your daughter, would you?”
“Uh, nope. I need more information on the drop.”
“Did they give you the address earlier?”
“Yep, and I took a hotel only a few blocks away from it. Man, this place is dead,” Killian said. “I don’t see any street cameras, none at all.”
“Check the hotel and see if any outdoor cameras are there,” Jerricho said.
“I’ll take a walk down the street in a little bit and see if there’s any sign of her.”
“Probably won’t be,” Jerricho said.
“I still don’t like anything about this,” Killian replied.
“Neither do I,” Jerricho said, “but we’re out of options. This is the hand we’re dealt, and this is the hand we’ll have to play.”
“Still doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he said.
“How’s your partner?”
“He’s perfect,” Killian said readily. “I’ve known Hatch since, well, since a long time ago. I just didn’t realize he was back in the game.”
“He asked to come back in. He was referred to the Mavericks.”
“Good choice,” he said. “I’m always happy to have him on my team.”
“Right, he’s got that innate sense of honor, which is just not there in so many guys. Let me know what you find when you take your walk. Find every camera on this block, on every block for a one-mile radius around there because, if something goes wrong, we’ll need to track those assholes.”
“Right.” As he went to log off, Killian quickly added, “Hey, let me know where the sewers and any underground tunnels are in this ungodly and beautiful place,” Killian requested.
Jerricho laughed.
“It’s a nice small town, and, so far, I have absolutely nothing against it,” Killian said. “Also lots of fresh air, so that’s a big plus. But, if anything is underground, with any potential hidden exits, I need to know.”
“Okay, I’ll check that for you. Go, take your walk outside, and make sure you’re not seen.”
He logged off and looked over at Hatch. “Want to go for a walk?”
Hatch nodded. “I so do.”
“Good, except you should look a little bit more homeless or unseen.”
“Yes, I agree. I did see a couple street people when wandering through town earlier,” Hatch said. “But not very many.”
“And that’s a huge plus for this place. They take care of their own.”
“Yeah, either they haven’t made it up here, there aren’t that many per capita, or they’re holed up in some other area.”
“Yes, you’d think by one of the waterways would be a likely spot for them to congregate,” he said.
“You’d think so. For me, I’ll stay in the shadows.”
Hatch left first, and Killian followed, locking up behind them, each going in a different direction. They would take completely different routes, checking out the neighborhood. Then they would reconvene and share notes.
As Killian wandered about town, he sent a message to Jerricho. We have ventured out, and the place is completely empty. Nobody on the streets at all.
Anybody watching you, like in the windows or the doorsteps? By the way, no underground tunnels.
Good. One thing to ignore. Nobody at all. Not even a parked car. He
sent the messages as he walked. I mean, I’ve been in a lot of small towns, but a weird atmosphere hangs around this one. I can’t explain it.
And that’s probably you, he messaged back.
Maybe, and maybe it’s not. He walked on but still found no vehicles parked on the side streets or the main drag.
He knew it was a Monday and was well past dinnertime, but he hadn’t expected this level of deadness as he walked toward the rendezvous spot, which was a wooded area just off the town itself.
He checked his watch for the time frame to hook up with Hatch. He thought he caught sight of Hatch as he crossed a block and headed around the corner. But, as Killian kept looking, he found no sign of him again. Either Hatch was as good as he had always been or somebody else was out here, playing games. Considering the drop-off point was nearby, exchanging the woman for the money that had been delivered to his room, somebody working with the kidnapper must be out here, scouting the area at least.
Before coming here, Killian had dyed his hair, had shaved off his beard, wore colored contacts, and carried a hat to avoid street cams, so he didn’t look like his normal self anymore. Hatch was already in a disguise. It just blew Killian away how different the man looked. But then again, burns like that and skin grafts, they weren’t kind. Hatch still looked good, but, no doubt about it, he didn’t look the same. So trying to ID Killian or Hatch out here using facial recognition wouldn’t work. That was a huge bonus right now. Killian made a single pass again and headed back toward the hotel.
On his second pass, he felt that creepy sensation of being followed. He was still too early for their rendezvous, and he casually walked past the hotel. Then, as soon as he felt he was clear, he swept around the alleyway and came up on the other block and did a quick dash through until he came up on the other side of the hotel, where he raced up the front steps and then walked sedately through the entrance.
That was the problem with this hotel; it had one main exit. The back one was apparently closed off, and that had made him very suspicious when he had first arrived. But the hotel manager had said they were just doing some work on the locks. And, of course, that was always questionable.
When he got back to the room, he found Hatch already there. “See anything?” he asked Hatch.
“I wanted to, yet, no,” he said. “But I sure felt it.”
“Yeah, I did too. I couldn’t make out anyone, but they’re around.” Killian quickly opened his laptop and brought up the secure message screen in the Mavericks’ chat box. Did you confirm regarding the locks in the hotel?
Yes, they were damaged, early this morning. New locks installed.
Did you check out the lock installer?
Yes, he’s clean.
Still, it sounds suspicious.
I know. I don’t like anything about this.
Killian looked up and quickly explained the lock issue to Hatch.
Hatch said, “I don’t like anything about that.”
“I know, and it’s the back exit too. I’m thinking we should disable the lock.”
“Otherwise it’ll be locked to stop us from getting out,” Hatch said, nodding.
“That would be my take on it.”
With that, Hatch got up and quickly slipped out of the room.
Killian sent a message back to Jerricho. Hatch’s gone to take a look at the lock.
Good, he replied. Ready for the drop?
Yes. Killian retrieved the bag and picked up the small backpack with the $50,000 inside, then messaged Jerricho. Not a whole lot of money for a woman’s life.
And I’m not sure she’ll even be there. That’s the next problem.
Oh, she’ll likely be there, but they probably won’t give her to us. They could keep doing this. What’s to stop them?
You. And, with that, Jerricho logged off.
Stacey Edgewater groaned behind the blindfold and the mouth gag. Her hands were tied at her back, and her feet were scrunched up, also tied together. She was in the trunk of a car. At least, that was her best guess. When the lid opened, and she was roughly pulled into a sitting position, the gag was yanked off her mouth, and a bottle was held up to her lips. She drank thirstily, spilling half of it down her front. She didn’t care; it was water, and she was parched.
All too soon the bottle was pulled away. She said, “Bastard.”
A chuckle erupted.
“Is Max paying you? Or is that you, Max?” she asked in a hard tone. “Either way, this is a bit much, even for you.”
Another chuckle came, and that was it; the gag was secured over her mouth. She was shoved back down, but the trunk lid wasn’t closed. She tried to relax, trying to get the fresh air that she needed to calm down. Being in a trunk was just painful. And terrifying.
As she lay here, she listened for other sounds but heard nothing. She couldn’t ask questions; she couldn’t see anything. She’d been in a nightmare scenario for days—several nightmare scenarios. Not only had she been kidnapped and escaped but then had been attacked and kidnapped a second time—and she didn’t know if the two events were connected. Of the two, this second kidnapper terrified her more than anything she’d been through yet.
He’d sliced her leg badly almost immediately, telling her how she may have escaped her first kidnapper, but she wouldn’t get away from him. Otherwise he didn’t talk to her. He’d let her out to go to the bathroom—always somewhere deserted, where no one would ask questions. For the few times he’d given her water and a sandwich, she’d relished the food and water but had also appreciated when the gag came off. The blindfold … had yet to be removed. She had no idea who this man was. She didn’t recognize his voice or his smell, but that meant little after days of captivity.
Apparently they’d completed the ferry journey to Victoria, BC, as she overheard what was probably a ferry announcement, but he’d driven to another terminal and had caught a much smaller ferry crossing—fewer vehicle noises, in her perception—back to the mainland maybe but kept driving, farther up the coast, she imagined, as it felt colder to her. They were in Whitehorse now, which she only knew from overhearing a phone call her kidnapper had. Whitehorse. A place she’d never been, had never imagined going to, and had never contemplated under these circumstances.
She hadn’t been given a chance to ask why or who, nothing. All she could think about was that this was all happening because she had left her husband. Her second kidnapper had confirmed that Max had been responsible for the first kidnapping. It was too much to assume that two people hated her as much as Max. She groaned, as she shifted again.
“Shut up,” her kidnapper said.
She sighed and tried to mumble around the gag in her mouth.
A hard clip to the side of her head sent stars spinning through her gaze and tears to her eyes. She choked back sobs.
“It’ll all be over in a few minutes,” he said.
She wondered what would be over. She hadn’t been asked for anything, so obviously none of the kidnappers knew she had taken something from her husband. So was her husband even involved? And why? Her mind reeled with questions. She was a marketer, not some business analyst, so, when it came to analyzing this mess, she couldn’t make two and two come together. None of these kidnappings made any sense.
If her husband wanted to get rid of her, why not simply sign the divorce papers? Or, even if he meant to kill her, why didn’t he toss her into a cargo ship, to be thrown overboard in the middle of some ocean? That would have been a much surer death—or disappearance—than this nightmare was turning out to be.
Her head was smacked again, only this time, a little bit lighter. She rolled over, trying to take deep breaths, but it was hard with the gag in her mouth. She heard an odd exclamation, and then the gag was pulled off.
“Calm down,” the man snapped. “It’ll be over soon. I told you that.”
“What will be over soon?” she asked.
“The sale,” he replied. “I’m selling you.” At that, she froze, and he burst into rauco
us laughter. “Not like that! Jesus,” he said. “I’m ransoming you, let’s put it that way.”
“Why?” she whispered in horror.
“Because somebody wants you, and I figured that, if one person wants you, somebody else would probably want you more.”
“So I’ll go to the highest bidder?”
“Yep,” he said. “Makes sense to me.”
“Great,” she said. “Do I get to know which side is buying me?”
“Well, both of them offered,” he said. “I’m seeing how I can make that work to my advantage.”
“Oh, shit,” she said. “You’re selling me to both? You’re hoping that they either kill each other off or that you’ll take one out or that you’ll just get the money from both and run.”
“Yep,” he said smugly. “It’s worked a couple times, so no reason it won’t work this time.”
She sank back into the trunk and groaned again.
“Why are you groaning all the time?”
“Because you’re a fool,” she said bluntly, and she immediately got smacked across the side of the head again, enduring more pain.
“Don’t call me that,” he said in a tight voice.
“One of these days,” she murmured, her eyes closed against the agony as she struggled to get the words out, “somebody will get you at your game.”
“But not today,” he snapped. “I’ve already got payment from one, and I’m picking up payment on the other.”
“Shit,” she said. “So how do you decide who I go to?”
“I don’t really care,” he said, “but the ones today want proof of life.”
“I see. And the other one didn’t?”
“Let’s just say that the other one preferred you didn’t come out of this alive.”
“That would be my husband.”
He burst out laughing. “You should figure out how to be a better wife, or this is how you end up,” he said. “Do you know how many husbands try to get rid of their wives?”
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” she said. “It’s a sad world out there.”
“It is, if you’re on the bottom of the mess,” he said. “Otherwise, it’s a pretty nice world out there for those of us at the top.”
“Yeah,” she said, “and it sucks when guys like you do bullshit like this, for piece-of-shit husbands who don’t want to just get a divorce like everybody else.”
