by Cate Noble
At first she hadn’t understood the dynamics at play. Her fears that no one would ever know what had happened to her had been allayed by the sound of Rocco’s voice.
Rocco would notify Travis, she told herself. And Travis would make certain that whatever ransom they demanded would be paid.
But as soon as the phone was snatched away, her anxiety had skyrocketed. Did her captors know she worked for the CIA, too? Would they try to force classified information from her?
While Rocco was still on the phone, one of her captors had begun tormenting her with a blue-flamed blowtorch, flicking it close to her face and eyes before finally dropping lower and burning her foot, clearly wanting Rocco to hear her screams. She’d complied and promptly fainted, coming to long enough to be drugged again. Not good.
How long had she been out this time? The whispers she’d heard moments ago ceased as soft footsteps approached.
Maddy opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. She had been moved, but just to another room. To a small cot. Her hands were still tied, but they hadn’t gagged her again.
An older woman Maddy had never seen before leaned over her. A doctor, Maddy guessed, by the white lab coat and stethoscope. Without a word, the woman unwound the stethoscope. She listened to Maddy’s heart, then tugged her shirt up.
“You have been ill?” the woman asked in cautious English.
“A little,” Maddy lied.
She flinched as the woman’s hands palpated her abdomen. Dread churned in her stomach. Maddy had been sick during the flight—and every day since—but so far no one seemed to guess her secret. Until now.
“Bay-bee.” The woman mimicked the outline of a pregnant stomach with her hand.
“Baby.” Maddy felt tears slide down the sides of her cheeks. It was the first time she’d admitted it out loud.
The morning Maddy had been abducted, she’d used one of those drugstore tests. After getting a positive test result, she’d agonized over whether to go away for the week as planned. In the end, she had decided to go, to seek her girlfriends’ collective counsel. They were all trusted acquaintances who would offer sympathy as well as advice. But, of course, Maddy had never arrived at the beach.
A new worry bloomed. How would news of her pregnancy go over with her abductors? Would it put her in a more sympathetic light with them? Or had her admission just endangered her unborn child?
Would her captors increase their ransom demand, thinking they had two hostages? Whatever the amount was, she prayed the Agency paid it quickly.
The stinging of her burned foot reminded her that these men were capable of horrible deeds. The thought of what they’d do to make her scream the next time was terrifying.
“You brand new pregnant?” the woman asked.
At Maddy’s nod, the doctor tugged the plaid shirt back in place and stepped away. The pock-faced man who’d called Rocco came into view. Obviously he’d heard everything.
As the doctor spoke, Pockface leaned sideways and stared at Maddy, showing disdain at the news of her pregnancy.
Tugging out his phone, Pockface punched in numbers. Maddy broke out in a cold sweat. Were they calling Rocco again? Oh, sweet Mary, would she be burned again?
Pockface spoke in Thai, though she knew from hearing parts of his conversation with Rocco that he also spoke English. To Maddy’s surprise, Pockface handed the phone to the woman.
Maddy wished she knew what they were saying.
Or maybe not.
When the call ended, the woman continued speaking with Pockface, ticking off points with her fingers.
Then the woman moved back to Maddy’s cot. “You will be moved to new place,” the woman spoke slowly. “Do not fight. To cooperate is better for baby.”
Bay-bee.
“How long will they keep me?” Maddy asked.
Pockface moved in, cutting Maddy off before speaking angrily in Thai to the other woman.
The woman listened and nodded before turning back to Maddy. “He said to ask you where Dr. Rufin is being held.”
Dr. Rufin?
Maddy’s spirits sank as the significance of the question sank in. She knew from the reports she’d prepared on Max Duncan’s rescue who Rufin was. An international manhunt was under way for the scientist. Every country wanted Dr. Rufin.
“Dr. who?” Maddy tried to look confused and shook her head. “I don’t know anyone named Dr. Rupert.”
“Rufin,” the woman repeated the name.
Pockface interrupted the woman with what sounded like more rapid-fire questions. Or threats.
The woman sighed and addressed Maddy again. “They need the baby-father, this Rocco, to find Dr. Rufin, in order to free you. He said that if you help, you will be freed more quickly.”
Fresh tears stung Maddy’s eyes. They were both lying. Nothing Maddy did, or didn’t do, would help. The sick feeling that she had been fighting suddenly surged. Twisting sideways, she hung her head over the side of the cot and retched, the vomit barely hitting the bucket the doctor slid into place.
Pockface stormed away as the woman lapsed into speaking Thai again. Even though the woman’s tone sounded sympathetic, Maddy knew it didn’t matter. She was doomed.
If her captors thought Rocco was the father of her child, they had assumed a relationship that wasn’t.
And if her freedom depended on these men gaining custody of Dr. Rufin, she and her unborn child were as good as dead.
Chapter Twelve
Southeast Texas
October 4, 2:10 P.M.
Rocco checked the rearview mirror. They’d been on the road nearly twenty minutes without incident. He’d driven north, then cut west in a zigzag pattern. So far there had been no sign of the black truck.
No police either. Which could change in the flash of a blue strobe light. A shoot-’em-up through town wouldn’t go unreported. And even though Rocco hadn’t fired his weapon, for fear of harming Gena, witness accounts could make him a definite person of interest.
Being held in custody while the cops verified Rocco’s identity and vetted his national-security-get-out-of-jail-free claim meant possibly being separated from Gena. And Rocco wouldn’t allow her to be vulnerable like that again.
Had Minh Tran’s man taken her today because they were concerned she could identify them from last night’s firebombing and wanted to keep her quiet? Or had their intent been to kill her? To make an example of her, to hammer home the seriousness of the threat Maddy faced?
Like he needed an example.
One thing was clear: Minh Tran’s men were determined to get to Gena. Their attack in broad daylight suggested they weren’t overly worried about the local cops. Which made them that much more dangerous.
He glanced at Gena. She’d obviously managed to shower and change, but now she looked even more fragile.
She was lucky to be alive after jumping from that truck. And while she claimed she was fine, once the adrenaline dissipated from her bloodstream, she’d be hurting. The sleeve of her shirt was torn. More scrapes were visible, new ones and old ones.
Gena continued to stare out the back window of Rocco’s rental sedan, clearly expecting the black truck to come after them. And Rocco had been so livid over the way she’d left him at the hospital that he’d purposely let her stew, hoping she’d think twice before endangering herself again.
Now, however, they needed to talk.
“You’ll be safe, Gena. I promise. I won’t let him harm you,” Rocco began.
She made a derisive sound. “If that’s supposed to make me feel better, or make me more malleable, it’s not working.”
“Let me amend that then.” He struggled to keep his temper in check. Yes, he was mad as hell at her, but she wasn’t the person to blame. Minh Tran was. And the payback Rocco now owed Tran had more than doubled.
“I won’t let anyone harm you as long as you stay with me,” he continued. “And I feel fairly certain we’ve lost the guy in the truck, so you can turn back around.”
She shook h
er head and doggedly kept her watch. “What about the man following you? My guy was pretty annoyed that you’d given him the slip.”
Rocco took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at her. “How do you know I was followed?”
“The guy who grabbed me called his partner and chewed him out. Said you were being watched.”
Damn it!
How had these men gotten word of Rocco’s whereabouts so quickly? Either Minh Tran had a larger network here in the states than they knew—which meant the Agency’s intelligence was seriously flawed—or Tran was accessing inside information, which validated Travis’s ongoing concern about a leak.
And if Tran knew that much about Rocco’s movements, it didn’t take much to believe he could also access the safe house location where Adele and Billy were currently being protected. The same place Rocco had intended to take Gena.
With Minh Tran’s actions becoming increasingly unpredictable, Rocco needed to come up with a new location. One not associated with the Agency.
“Tell me again about the man who abducted you,” Rocco said. “He was Hispanic?”
Minh Tran would have realized that sending his Thai associates into the tiny border town would have made them conspicuous. Still, for Tran to work outside his own close-knit clan was highly unusual.
“He was definitely Hispanic,” Gena said. “But he spoke with a different accent. South American perhaps.”
“What about scars or tattoos?”
“None that were visible.”
“Have you ever seen him before?” Rocco asked. “Around town perhaps?”
“At first I thought he looked familiar.”
“Familiar how? Height? Weight?”
“No. Like someone I met when I was married to Harry. But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I’m positive I was mistaken.” Gena still scanned the roads behind them.
“Is it possible you saw him recently or that he followed you from the hospital?”
“No. Yes.” She rubbed her eyes. “Maybe. I was distracted. As I was leaving, a friend of Lupe’s stopped me. She—” Gena’s voice cracked. “She gave me a shoebox containing some of Lupe’s personal belongings. She wanted me to get them to Lupe’s grandmother. On the way home, I couldn’t stop thinking about the old woman. About how long it would be before she found out her granddaughter is dead.”
“Don’t tell me. That’s where you were headed.”
“I had to go somewhere, didn’t I?” Gena shoved her still-damp hair back with one hand and grimaced with pain. “I figured no one would look for me in Mexico.”
Rocco caught a glimpse of her scraped palms, knew they stung. He needed to fully check out her injuries, but until they were farther away, they couldn’t afford the time.
His cell phone rang. He checked the display, saw it was Catalina. Rocco had called her previously with the tag number of the black truck.
“The license plates were stolen. The Sugar Springs police are still searching for the black truck,” Cat said. “But they don’t seem to have any reports of your vehicle being involved, at least not yet.”
“The perp’s probably already ditched the truck,” Rocco said. “What else have the police got?”
“They are interviewing witnesses, trying to get a better description of the shooter. A dark-haired Hispanic male probably describes over half the population in that region.”
“We’ve got another problem,” Rocco said. “Apparently, whoever grabbed Gena knew to watch out for me. I’m concerned they may know where I was planning to take her.”
“Do you want me to arrange a relocation and get you a new locale?”
“Make arrangements for Adele and Billy. I’ll handle Gena’s security personally.” There was only way to ensure that no one knew how to find Gena and that was by telling no one.
“Understood,” Cat said. “How can we contact you?”
“I’ll stay in touch. Any news from Dante or Travis?”
“Nothing from Travis. Sorry. I know you’re concerned about Maddy. Dante said the missing store clerk has been located unharmed, and she identified Taz as her abductor. The Kentucky police are pressuring the FBI to publicize the manhunt.”
“Has Max had any more contact with Taz, via, you know, their head connection?” Rocco asked.
“Max apparently made contact with him last night, which Dante feels is what influenced Taz to release the woman without harm. But Max had another seizure afterward. Erin wants to join them.”
“And Max is saying no, right?” Dr. Erin Houston was the psychologist who had helped Max after his return. They were engaged now.
“Right,” Cat said. “AndI can imagine Erin’s concern.”
“Me, too, but Max knows what he’s doing. And Max is our best shot at finding Taz before he does more harm. Look, I’ll call back in a couple hours.” Rocco turned off the phone and loosened the battery to hamper GPS tracking. Future calls would need to be limited or made from a throwaway cell phone or even pay phones, though those were becoming harder and harder to come by.
“Did I hear you correctly?” Gena asked. “You said something about Dante and Max. I know this sounds crazy, but weren’t those the same names—”
“As the agents who disappeared with Harry? Yes. They are the same two men, Gena. Dante Johnson and Max Duncan. With everything that’s gone on since I arrived, I haven’t had a chance to explain.” Rocco slowed as they approached the outskirts of McAllen, Texas. “Dante and Max didn’t die on an overseas mission. Which means there’s a strong possibility that Harry is alive, too.”
Harry is alive.
Not for the first time, Gena felt as if her life had become entrapped in a snow globe that kept getting shaken up by others.
Memories swirled, some dark, some ugly. Many incomplete. Don’t think of the past.
“Is all this stuff pertaining to Harry, Dante, and Max, connected to the man who is after you?” Gena asked. “And to the fire last night?”
Rocco had pulled into a drugstore parking lot and stopped the car. “It’s related, yes. Let’s go inside and grab a few supplies. Then I’ll explain everything.”
“No! I want answers, Rocco, and I want them now. Or so help me, I’ll start screaming my head off.” She pointed at the two people who were smoking cigarettes near the door. “You won’t get out of here without them getting a tag number.”
“Easy.” Rocco held up his hands in surrender. “We’ll do it your way.”
“I want all of it,” she said. “No edits. No claims that it’s classified or top secret. After all I’ve been through, I deserve more than the Agency’s standard BS lines.”
“Agreed. How much do you know about the circumstances of Harry’s disappearance two years ago? I know you were divorced by then.”
“Disappearance?” Gena shook her head. She should have known better than to believe the story the CIA floated back then. “Harry’s father was told Harry died on an overseas mission. Ephraim had suffered a stroke just a few weeks before receiving that news and he was devastated. He and Harry were estranged at the time. Ephraim contacted me through my aunt. He had no other family and needed help making funeral arrangements.”
“I heard you were at the memorial service,” Rocco said.
“And you weren’t.” She’d expected him to show up. Had prepared herself for seeing him again.
“I was in Afghanistan at the time.”
“As I said, the news devastated Ephraim. He had dreamed of reconciling with Harry.” She closed her eyes against the onslaught of memories. “Ephraim’s health declined rapidly after that. He died a year ago. I was stunned to learn he’d left his estate to me. I, uh, planned to donate it, but now …?” She looked at Rocco. “Are you saying Harry didn’t really die?”
“We don’t have proof, but there’s a good possibility Harry is alive. Dante and Max were recovered from separate prisons overseas. And recently there’s been an unconfirmed report that Harry is also being held in that same part of the wor
ld.”
“Dante and Max were in prison? What were they accused of?”
“These were secret prisons. Asylums. Dante and Max were badly mistreated and subjected to what amounts to illegal human experimentation,” Rocco said. “I would expect that Harry’s been abused as well. But given that Dante and Max survived, the odds are strong for Harry.”
“Oh, God.” Gena blinked back tears. Her memories of Harry, what she could recall at least, were bad. It had taken her years to make peace with them. “Harry and I … Our marriage was a disaster, but I’d never wish that kind of fate on anyone. But how does this tie in to what’s happening to you? To me?”
“After rescuing Max overseas, I apprehended one of the scientists who was conducting some of those human experiments. Unfortunately, other people want this scientist, too, for some very nasty, very illegal reasons. During the course of that mission, I killed the son of a powerful Southeast Asian drug lord by the name of Minh Tran. Tran is now demanding vengeance.”
“An eye for an eye? Is that why he’s killing people? To avenge his son?”
“It’s less about his son and more about that scientist I apprehended, Dr. Rufin. Tran wants him. And Tran figures that since I caught Dr. Rufin I can free him as well. To force my hand, Tran kidnapped the woman I was briefly involved with, and then went after my sister. Now he’s after you as well.”
“People you care, or used to care, about.” Gena’s hands were shaking now. “And Tran doesn’t give a flip how many innocent people he hurts, does he?”
“I won’t let anyone near you, Gena. Please believe that,” Rocco went on. “I don’t want to stay in one place for long, so for now I suggest we go inside and get what we need to tend your injuries. We’ll talk more once we’re finished here.”
Gena nodded, needing to process what she’d just learned.
Was it the truth? Had the Agency known or suspected all along that their own operatives hadn’t actually died?
By the time they exited the drugstore, Gena felt shaky. Her head pounded, and despite her claims to the contrary, her wrist and hip were killing her.
The lack of sleep combined with the horror of the fire, Lupe’s death, and the foiled abduction was taking a toll. Then there was the news about Harry.
