The Sarah Roberts Series Vol. 4-6

by Jonas Saul

  Kill? Rod or us?

  He blinked and looked up at her. He glanced at Drake and then back to her. “What did you just say?”

  “I asked what RFID stands for.”

  “Radio frequency identification. You can thank me later when things calm down.”

  “Thank you for what?” Sarah asked.

  “These chips can be dangerous. They pose a continual risk to the subject who is implanted. If you get too close to a large magnet, it could cause adverse tissue reaction. A person could be burned when the chip reacts to an outside source of EMF radiation, such as a strong electrical field. It would cause serious burns inside and out of the subject wearing it.”

  “How did you destroy it?”

  “I used a simple microwave oven. That’s all you need. I left it in until it burst into a tiny flame.”

  A part of Sarah was furious with Rod for implanting her, but another part of her was happy. Rod had his reasons, as devious as they were, but because of the implant, he was about to determine that the last time it emitted a signal was in or near Elmore’s house. That meant Rod would be back. Whether the Canadians allowed him to or not, he would find a way. He also knew that showing up at Elmore’s door that morning meant, whether Sarah was there willingly or unwillingly, she would be gone soon. Rod would have to act fast, and fast for Rod was right away.

  At that moment, she’d rather deal with Rod than with the insane man sitting three feet from her cell door.

  Elmore pointed at her. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve thought of it too. I met Rod and I know what kind of man he is. I learned a lot watching him handle the other cops and the questions he had for me. I know he recognized the mount I have on my roof and he knows it’s not for a telescope. Rod won’t stop. But I’ll be waiting. I’ll be ready. If he tries an illegal raid, all of his men will die, including him. I have it all set up. Everything’s covered.”

  Elmore stood and pushed the chair back against the far wall. He turned around to face her. “Don’t worry, Sarah. Rod will be out of your life forever soon enough.”

  Chapter 25

  As Elmore left, he turned out the light, casting the basement into an unforgiving darkness. Drake had heard Sarah use her toilet, but other than that, he couldn’t tell if she had fallen asleep or not.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah. I wish I could do something. I’m going crazy stuck in here like a prisoner.”

  “It’s not your fault. Rod’s coming. He’ll take care of Elmore and then I’ll be Rod’s prisoner again, but at least his terms are easier to deal with. Besides, if anyone’s at fault, it’s me. Vivian sent me a warning about a fake cop. I missed it. I assumed it was Spencer. I’m the one who should be sorry for getting you into this.”

  “Tell me about your sister.”

  Drake stretched out on his mattress and listened to the rhythmic tone and beauty of Sarah’s voice. If they ever got out of this alive, he would pursue her aggressively. He could easily see them spending many years together.

  Sarah told him about her sister and how Sarah herself hadn’t even known she’d had a sister until five years ago. Vivian had been murdered. The murderer was recently killed in a church an hour drive from Budapest.

  Vivian gave Sarah messages and Sarah acted on them. The messages helped people survive accidents and prevented crimes, but sometimes things went wrong, as evidenced by where they were.

  That was the reason Rod wanted her. To perform for him so he could include her into some organization called the Sophia Project.

  “But I don’t believe him,” Sarah said. “I’m sure it has something to do with the war machine. Get enough real psychics on your side and you could win any war.”

  “Yeah, sounds like it.”

  “But, I warn you, be ready. Rod is coming and when he does, things may get a little dicey around here. I’m going to do my best to escape him too.”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  After a minute of silence, Drake said, “I don’t know why Elmore is keeping me alive. We both know he wants you.”

  “Probably until the heat goes down. Having an extra hostage can’t do him any harm in the long run.”

  “Then let’s sleep in rotating shifts. He’s unpredictable.”

  “Agreed,” Sarah said. “You sleep first. I’ll stay awake.”

  “No. You sleep. You need your rest.”

  “Is that the way it’s going to be with you?”

  “What way?”

  “Traditional. The man takes care of the woman shit, like letting me sleep first.”

  Drake thought about it for a second, not wanting his answer to upset her, but he realized only the truth would work with Sarah. “Yes. It’s the only way. A man must respect a woman. She’s the one with the tough life. She has to bear children. She has to deal with cramps and other shit on a monthly basis. Women get abused by men who want only one thing. Women get paid less at a job while holding the same title as a man. In my opinion, women have the raw deal. But when I deal with the woman in my life, I will put her on a pedestal and treat her as she should be treated. This is who I am and that’s how I feel about it.”

  He didn’t get a response.

  “You asleep?” he asked.

  “No, I’m not,” Sarah said. “What you said is good. Don’t ever change. Good night. I’m sleeping.”

  Drake smiled to himself. That was easy.

  “Oh, and Drake?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to give you something to think about. I read once that the reality of psychopaths, homicidal or otherwise, is that they are devious, cunning, and more ingenious and resourceful than the authorities that guard them. Be careful. Be very careful. We are being hunted even in these cages. And remember, fear stands for false, evidence, appearing, real. There’s nothing to fear. Just be strong and fight. We’ll walk away from this as long as you believe we will. Life doesn’t owe you, but it does provide opportunities. You can either watch things happen, make things happen or wonder what the fuck happened. Choose well and we’ll make it. Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent. Never give up. I take an interest in my future because I’m going to spend the rest of my life there. You should too. Now, good night, Drake.”

  “Good night, Sarah,” he said, half dazed by her speech.

  Chapter 26

  Elmore had stayed awake all night, waiting for Rod to show. He had been positive Rod would try to see inside his house, spy on him in some way or even attempt to gain access. Without the proper evidence, it would be difficult, but not impossible, for Rod, an American, to get a Canadian search warrant for Elmore’s home.

  The motion detectors were activated and Elmore had an earpiece in his left ear, connected to a police scanner, monitoring their traffic in the area. He’d kept the lights in the house off all night and used infrared from his rooftop patio. He’d gone through a pot of coffee and three chocolate bars, but nothing happened as far as he could tell. No one had approached the house. If they had gotten close, they were good. Real good.

  They’d have to be Green Berets wearing body length Kevlar to get past what I’ve got set up.

  In his line of business, not the selling of used panties, but having one or two teenage girls locked in his basement at any given time, he couldn’t be too careful.

  He patted the underside of his each arm and felt both 9mm Mambas right where they should be, snug in their holsters. Both semi-automatics were loaded with a 15-round magazine. He loved his Mambas, named after an African snake known for its deadly venom that left little to no chance of survival.

  When he heard that about the Mamba, he knew it was the gun for him. Why else would anyone want a gun unless it’s to shoot someone? If you are shooting someone, you want them to have little to no chance of survival.

  Elmore scanned the patio where he sat and laughed at how Rod had called it an observatory. It wasn’t an observatory in the classic sense. Sure he observed from up there, but not the stars
and planets. He observed the grounds surrounding his home. The mount wasn’t an alt-azimuth mount for a telescope. It was an M122 tripod for his M60 machine gun loaded with armor-piercing rounds that could defeat Kevlar vests. From the ground, only a serious professional would be able to see the minor differences in the mount.

  “If it’s good enough for the U.S. military, then it’s good enough for me,” he whispered to himself in the dark.

  He pulled off the infrared glasses and set them down beside him. He yanked the earpiece out and took one more look around his property in the little light as the morning sun began its ascent.

  Nothing. No movement anywhere.

  “Maybe another day, Rod.”

  It was time to get some sleep. Later that day he would deal with Sarah. She needed to start wearing the panties. When he woke up, he would take the first pictures of her wearing the panties whether she liked it or not. If she wouldn’t work with him willingly, he would shoot her up with ketamine again but this time he’d use his tranquilizer gun so there would be no need to enter her cell.

  He crawled over to the access door, dropped down to the attic and closed the hatch. Once he got to the main level of the house, he headed for his office where he placed the Mambas in their holder and put away his infrared glasses. When he stepped into the hallway, something caught his eye. He turned fast but missed it. Something at the rear of the house blinked.

  It was more dark than light still, but he was sure he’d seen something.

  “Shit, shit, shit!”

  He didn’t have time for the pistols. He ran back upstairs, climbed the ladder into the attic and jumped back onto his rooftop patio. He saw them clearly now, without the aid of the glasses, approaching from the rear. The closest one was at least fifty yards out. As the roof was quite high and the patio area had been built in the center, if they got any closer, the eavestrough would obstruct his view.

  Behind the first man, he counted four more who followed. They were hopping from tree to tree, attempting to stay hidden as they approached.

  Elmore looked behind him to make sure no one was coming from the front, but nothing moved there.

  He silently lifted the M60 onto the tripod, clicked it into place and aimed the weapon. He breathed in and out slowly, knowing this approach to intruders could be construed as excessive. But he also knew what these men were doing was illegal. The claim would be that he felt threatened by what looked like paratroopers assaulting his house.

  His first priority was to protect the basement at all costs.

  He aimed at the man closest and fired. Even from his distance, he could see the man fall. He quickly took aim at the others. Man after man fell in the bush behind his house. The last man remained hidden behind a tree. He waited. Finally the man stepped out and started running. Elmore took his time to aim due to how far away the man was. He fired his weapon and continued firing under the man was cut down.

  He set the M60 aside and stood up to survey the grounds below him. Nothing moved and no one returned fire. The sun has eased higher, cresting the trees behind him.

  I wonder which one of them was Rod?

  He unhooked his weapon from the mount and set it back in its long case.

  Below him, somewhere in the house, glass broke.

  “What the fuck?”

  Elmore got to the hole and jumped down into the attic. With extreme caution, he crawled down the stairs from the attic onto the second floor of his home. He had to get to his pistols in his office. He had no weapon on him and no way to defend himself.

  It has to be Rod.

  How did he miss him? He moved along the hall, sweating at the anticipation of a bullet at any moment. Near the end of the hall, he stopped and took long, deep breaths. He had to stay alert and focused. He had to try to not let the fear cause him to make a mistake.

  At the corner to the stairs, he slowly peeked around the edge. The stairwell and hall to the kitchen below appeared empty.

  This is it. I will be exposed all the way down those stairs, but I have no other choice.

  He turned the corner and started down the carpeted steps, one by one, going slow enough to be quiet, fast enough to get to cover.

  At the bottom, he breathed out, not even realizing he’d been holding it. A quick hop across the hallway and he entered his office, where he discovered no one waiting.

  He ran over and opened the Mambas’ cases. He pulled both out, clicked off their safeties and held one in each hand. Back at his office door, he felt a lot better. Whoever had entered his house would know the four men out back were dead and that coming here had been met with extreme force. Whoever had entered his house would be frightened and he intended to shoot them in the face.

  Elmore began a systematic search of the main floor and found the point of ingress — the back kitchen door — but he didn’t find anyone hiding in any of the available places.

  That only left the basement.

  He silently walked to the basement door and discovered it unlocked.

  A master locksmith, are you, Rod?

  He stood to the side and opened the door. He jabbed at the light switch and turned it on. His nerves were playing on him now. It had been at least five minutes since he’d first heard the glass break and he couldn’t stand much more of this tension. Killing those men in his backyard had meant nothing. He’d killed before and actually found pleasure in the act. But the feeling of being hunted in his own house caused him great stress.

  He used the back of his forearm to swab at his forehead and then flipped onto his stomach and edged to the door to look into the basement.

  From his vantage point, he could see the bottom front of Drake’s and Sarah’s cells, but not their feet. Something was wrong. They would’ve heard the door open. Usually the prisoner stepped forward and awaited Elmore’s arrival in the basement unless they were sleeping.

  But things were different this time. They had Rod for a visitor.

  He knew no one would be joining them. With the cell phone blocker, there would be no way for the visitor in his basement to get word out for backup. The five-man assault team on his house would have had no legal backing. It was a black operation. Since no one knew the visitor was in his basement and no one would be coming to rescue him, Rod was stuck. Getting past Elmore would be his only option.

  He got up, closed the basement door and locked it. He walked over to the hallway cabinet and maneuvered it in front of the door. The lock was only accessed from the hall side in case a prisoner ever got past him like Jackie had. The remote to unlock it was always in his pocket. Unless Rod, or whoever was in his basement had a remote, that door would remain locked until Elmore chose to unlock it.

  He holstered his two guns and went to the garage where he grabbed a wheelbarrow. First things first. He would pick up the four dead men in the back and wheel them into his garage for disposal later.

  Then he would come back to the basement and deal with the intruder.

  Elmore was already working on a plan to flush him out.

  He was pretty certain it would work.

  Chapter 27

  The basement settled back into darkness as Elmore clicked off the light. A flashlight flicked on and Rod shined it on his face for Drake and Sarah to see him.

  “Rod, he’s gone for now,” Sarah whispered. “But he’ll be back. And I’ve got a question for you.”

  “Ask away,” Rod said.

  “Why the fuck did you put one of those tracking devices in my neck? That’s over the top, you know? I should be seriously pissed at you — but I’m happy to see you because you’re our only chance out of here.”

  “If I hadn’t stuck a VeriChip in you, I think the guy upstairs would be putting something else in you. You’re lucky I’m such a bastard.”

  “He’s got a point,” Drake added. “He is our chance out of here.”

  “Where are the keys for these cages?” Rod asked, spanning his flashlight around the basement and stopping on tables and shelves. “And how c
ome my cell phone doesn’t work? Do either of you know what the reason is?”

  “He always has the keys on him,” Sarah said. “It’s some kind of electronic device. He uses a cell phone signal jamming device. It’s plugged in over on the far wall.”

  The flashlight raced along the far wall and found nothing.

  “Shit,” Rod said. “He must have it upstairs with him.”

  “What are you going to do?” Sarah asked. “This guy is seriously sick. These cages have a long history.”

  “What kind of history?”

  “A history of females, mostly late teens to early twenties. He’s been kidnapping girls and keeping them locked up here for his personal pleasure.”