by Debra Webb
Spanish.
Damn.
She should have thought of this. If they were watching the vehicles, they would be watching this house.
Great.
Now what did she do?
She needed to get inside to a phone.
Wait.
Amy Calhoun was supposed to be here.
A new kind of uncertainty washed over Gabrielle.
Had she walked into this trap? Or was she watching from a distance?
This thing just kept getting more and more complicated.
Didn’t anyone understand she had an agenda of her own?
Amy was young. Not much older than Gabrielle. She’d just gotten married. What, last year?
The girl was seriously in love. So was her husband. Gabrielle had met him once.
If something happened to Amy…
Okay. She had to determine if Amy was even here. She couldn’t do anything else until she verified that aspect of the situation.
Holding her breath, Gabrielle eased around the corner of the building. As she did, she considered that she’d already risked her life for two kids…now here she was taking a chance on getting shot for a woman she barely knew.
She hadn’t come here to rescue people.
Whatever.
Now wasn’t the time to worry about what she couldn’t change.
Moving across the courtyard would be a major mistake. She surveyed the way the house folded in around the pool and a portion of the courtyard. If she got inside, she could move from room to room with at least some cover.
An open window at the far right of the house suggested opportunity. All she had to do was to reach it.
She hadn’t seen any of the men whose voices she could hear just yet. Maybe they were all inside.
She slipped toward the west wing of the house. When no bullets started to fly and no unexpected shouts were screamed her way, she figured the men were distracted by something else.
Lucky for her.
She peeked into the room first. Bedroom. Toys. Josh’s maybe. She climbed inside and took a few seconds to ascertain her position relative to that of the enemy.
Sounded as if they were in the east wing…several rooms away.
This was one big house.
Gabrielle stood at the door for a full minute before she worked up the nerve to move out into the hall. She’d never considered herself a coward, but this was hard.
During those gut-wrenching moments she found herself admiring Josh’s room. He had everything a little boy could want. He’d been so much luckier than her…but she was glad.
Moving slowly, carefully, she eased past room after room. Thankfully all were empty.
As she neared the main living area, the voices grew louder.
She sniffed the air and decided they were eating.
Her pulse racing, Gabrielle crouched as low as possible and moved into the entry hall. This was as close as she dared get. The men alternated between speaking in Spanish and in butchered English. The gist of the conversation revolved around the fact that the man—Braddock she understood—had been captured. The woman—her—hadn’t been found.
The search had been called off. They didn’t care if the woman died on that mountain. They had what they needed now.
She couldn’t help smiling as she considered that they didn’t have anything because Braddock would die before he would talk.
Her smile faded.
She didn’t want him to die.
It went way beyond mere human compassion.
She had feelings for him.
Foolish feelings. Pointless feelings.
But they were there just the same.
Just another screwup in a long line of mistakes in her poor excuse for a life.
She inclined her head and listened to the man, who sounded as if he were in charge, lay out his next orders.
He’d gotten news that a private plane had landed in an airfield near Chihuahua. He suspected it might be more of Sloan’s friends. His men were to load up and leave now before the interlopers arrived.
Uncertainty charged through Gabrielle.
What did she do?
If they left, she wouldn’t know where to look for Braddock. She was supposed to make that call. But what if they got away…
She made a decision.
She had to go with them.
They just couldn’t know they had a stowaway.
While the men prepared to leave, she slipped out the front door.
She held her breath until she verified that no one was watching the vehicles.
There were two trucks, an SUV and a cargo-type van.
The van looked like the best bet.
She surveyed the parking area and dashed across the cobblestone. She didn’t breathe again until she’d flattened against the back of the van.
The sound of a door opening somewhere beyond her position had her climbing into the van without another second’s hesitation.
She eased the door closed, flinching as the metal lock clicked into place.
Turning around in the dark, she wished like hell she had Mark’s pocket-size flashlight.
Feeling her way, she moved toward the front of the vehicle. The cargo area was closed off from the passenger area. Good thing. She hadn’t even thought of that.
Her fingers encountered fabric. She felt the material and decided it was a tarp of some sort.
The front doors of the van opened. The vehicle shifted as passengers settled into the seats up front.
Gabrielle didn’t move a muscle until the doors had closed, the engine had started and the van moved. She could barely make out the muffled voices of the driver and his passenger. The one driving said something about going back to the compound, then the volume of the radio was cranked up.
Wherever that was, Gabrielle hoped it was the same place they would take Braddock.
Something moved beyond the tarp.
Gabrielle held still…didn’t even breathe.
A faint whimper pierced her fear.
She scrambled over to the far corner of the van and gasped as her hands found someone huddled in the corner. Female. Long hair. Gabrielle felt for the woman’s hands. They were restrained. Then she touched her face. Her mouth was taped shut. The woman whimpered again.
Her heart thundering, Gabrielle whispered, “Don’t scream. I’m going to take the tape off your mouth.”
The woman nodded.
The instant Gabrielle removed the tape, the woman said in a whispered rush, “Gabrielle, you have to help me!”
It was Amy Calhoun from the Colby Agency.
With her captured and Gabrielle stuck in here with her, who would call for help?
Chapter Twelve
As the temperature rose outside so did the heat index inside the van. Sweat dampened Gabrielle’s skin. The stench of waste and pure filth, whether human or animal she couldn’t say, permeated the interior, the intensity rising with the temperature.
The ride lasted for what felt like hours, but may only have been minutes. Gabrielle could no longer judge something as trivial as the passage of time. She recognized the problem. Fatigue and a mild case of shock. The events weren’t supposed to affect her to such an extent, but they had all the same.
She’d thought that her dysfunctional childhood and time in prison had prepared her for most anything but she’d been wrong. So damned wrong.
The image of the man she’d been forced to kill intruded into her musings. The blood pooled around him and the startled look on his face. She’d looked at him that day and none of those things had registered beyond the fact that she’d had to get the kids to safety, but now it all came rushing at her like a runaway dump truck.
Then she recalled the old man who’d died attempting to protect the children…and the niece who’d trusted the wrong man and paid the ultimate price.
But above all else she thought about Braddock and how he’d sacrificed himself for her. She would likely be dead now if he hadn’t taken the
decision away from her. He had known, as she did even if she didn’t want to admit it, that she wouldn’t be able to hold out under interrogation like he could. She didn’t have the right training.
Truth was…she was scared to death.
For all the bluster and determination to have her revenge against Sloan, she was terrified that she couldn’t help Braddock. That these bastards would somehow manage to find the children and all those people who had died would be for nothing.
The trembling started deep inside her. She tried to control it, but that wasn’t happening.
“You okay?” Amy asked quietly.
She scooted closer to Gabrielle. Her voice sounded rusty. Gabrielle wasn’t sure if that was from yelling or just from being gagged. Combine all that with the need to barely whisper and the result was pretty much a croak.
“Yeah,” Gabrielle lied. “You?”
“I’ve been better.” She laughed softly but the sound held no humor. “My first real field assignment and I get myself captured.”
Gabrielle looked at the woman through the darkness. She couldn’t see anything except a shadowy outline but she’d kind of gotten used to that in that frigging cave.
“You’re doing great.” Gabrielle doubted her opinion meant that much to the other woman but she had to speak her mind. She hadn’t gotten a good look at Amy but from what Gabrielle could tell she’d taken a hell of a beating.
The tension throbbed between them for a minute or so. It didn’t take a mind reader to know what she was thinking. She and Gabrielle weren’t on the same side in this, at least not technically.
“In a way, I suppose,” Amy offered, “your coming down here was a sort of blessing in disguise.”
Gabrielle didn’t laugh outright for fear the guys up front would hear them, but she did make a soft scoffing sound. “That’s one way to look at it.”
“If,” Amy went on, “you hadn’t come after Sloan, no one would have known what was going on with the boys until it was too late.”
Gabrielle had considered that. If she hadn’t shown up when she had…well, she didn’t know what would have happened but it couldn’t have been good.
“Sloan will owe you a great debt.”
Anger flared but Gabrielle kept it to herself. She didn’t want to talk about Sloan right now. She didn’t even want to think about him. She hadn’t done anything for him, she’d done what she did for the children.
“We need a plan for rescuing Braddock,” she said, shifting the conversation to the matter at hand.
“Right,” Amy agreed.
Gabrielle stretched out her shoulders and neck and waited for Amy to suggest a tactic. She’d been at the Colby Agency far longer than Gabrielle, had probably listened to the other investigators numerous times.
“From what I picked up on,” Amy went on, “in the conversations I overheard, these guys work for some big-time slave trader.”
Gabrielle and Braddock had talked about that but this seemed like a hell of a lot of trouble just to nab two kids. “They’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble for two kids,” she said, giving voice to the thought. “The search party alone involved enough men to launch a small war.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t make sense to me.”
“You’re right,” Amy explained. “Apparently, Sloan has been doing a little digging into the increasing disappearances of tourists and temporary residents. You know, the folks who come down here to live for a couple years while overseeing or participating in some business development.”
Gabrielle had lived in Texas most of her life. She was very well aware of the growing slave trade and kidnap-ransom business down here. “You think someone hired Sloan to do a little investigating.”
“I don’t know. Maybe he simply discovered something that led him to do a little investigating on his own. Whatever the case, he got someone’s attention and they decided the best way to get him off their back was to exterminate him and his family. From what little I know, abduction is big business down here.”
She was right about that. Bastards. Gabrielle wondered how people like that lived with themselves. No conscience.
The story Braddock had told her about Angel…her father…killing Sloan’s wife and taking his son zinged into her consciousness.
That couldn’t be right.
Just somebody’s tale to warp the truth.
“They’ll torture Braddock in hopes of extracting the whereabouts of the children from him,” Gabrielle said more to herself than to the other woman.
“For sure,” Amy agreed. “I’m just guessing here, but I’ll bet they’ve waited for this opportunity when Sloan would be out of town. They likely had one of their men get close to Pablo’s niece to keep tabs on Sloan. They want to hurt the children first to hurt him. Maybe to learn exactly what he knows and if he’s told anyone else.”
Gabrielle’s stomach churned. How could they do that? Harm children. It felt impossible that anyone could be so heartless.
“Braddock won’t cave.” Gabrielle knew this if she knew nothing else at all. Braddock would not give up the location of the children.
“No. He’ll die first.”
Emotions she couldn’t fully label roared through Gabrielle. Amy was right. He would die today or tonight. As soon as these scumbags realized he wasn’t going to talk, he would die.
“I can’t let that happen,” Gabrielle said firmly. She would not let it happen.
“If they suspect you’re here, you’ll lose your leverage,” Amy whispered. “I think they believe you’re dead. From what I overheard they weren’t worried about you once they found A.J.”
“They’ll know I’m alive after I help you escape,” Gabrielle countered. The two men up front would have to die and the others would guess the reason; clearly they weren’t stupid, just evil.
“That’s why I have to stay.”
That startling realization shuddered through Gabrielle. Amy was right. To maintain the element of surprise they had to believe that Gabrielle was out of the picture, no threat to their evil scheme.
“They’re taking me to the boss,” Amy murmured. “To the compound.”
Gabrielle had heard that reference herself. “Yeah, I heard them say something about a compound.”
“They’ve probably taken A.J. there, too. Once these two have dragged me out of the van—and I won’t make it easy—you’ll have some time to make your move.”
“Braddock told me to call Victoria,” she said, remembering his final instructions to her.
“That wouldn’t hurt,” Amy allowed, “but the truth is, there might not be enough time for Victoria to get help to us. You may have to do something on your own.”
Gabrielle licked her lips thoughtfully. “I can do that.”
The beginnings of a plan started to form, but she would need help.
“Let’s start with tying you back up,” Gabrielle suggested.
Amy nodded.
“Wait.” Gabrielle reached into her sock and retrieved the .38. “Can we hide this somewhere on you so you’ll be armed?” She took Amy’s hand and placed the weapon on her palm.
“Yeah…how about in my sock?”
Gabrielle smiled. Great minds obviously thought alike. “Perfect.”
When Amy had hidden the gun away, Gabrielle reassembled her bonds but was careful to leave things so that Amy could work herself loose if the opportunity presented itself.
“I’ll hide under the tarp,” Gabrielle said, turning over the only option in her head. It stunk like hell but she didn’t see any other alternative.
“I think…there’s already somebody under there.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Whoever he was, he showed up at Sloan’s house at the wrong time.”
Hefting her shoulder bag onto her back, Gabrielle crawled on her hands and knees to the pile of material that was the tarp. She felt around for any hard bulges. Sure enough she found a lump. The lump was indeed human, but without any light there was no way to identify the guy.
“I gue
ss we can share the tarp,” Gabrielle muttered. “If you give them enough trouble it’ll take ’em both to drag you out of here and then they’ll have to come back for the body if that’s part of their plan. And I’ll be long gone.”
“They might not be in a hurry to move the body,” Amy considered out loud, “but you need to be prepared for that possibility.”
“Yeah.” Gabrielle would hide behind the body and hope like hell her plan worked.
“I guess you’d better put the gag back into place. They could reach their destination anytime.”
Gabrielle felt around for the piece of duct tape.
As she started to press one side against Amy’s cheek, she said, “Just so you know, Victoria understands that you have extenuating circumstances. She believes in you, Gabrielle. We all do.”
For three beats Gabrielle couldn’t react or continue with taping the woman’s mouth shut. Her fingers trembled and she felt oddly bereft.
When she’d regained her composure, she pressed the tape into place without responding. What could she say? Some part of her appreciated that a woman like Victoria had that much faith in her, but that didn’t change the facts.
Gabrielle had come here on a mission. Her ultimate intentions had not changed.
A.J. LAY ON THE stone floor. His body throbbed with pain. He prayed he would reach that plateau soon where he felt nothing at all.
He’d lost a lot of blood. Felt weak. Thankfully the bullet hadn’t hit anything vital, just tore through flesh and muscle, leaving him leaking a steady flow of blood. He thought the leak had slowed a little now but couldn’t be sure since moving to take a look was out of the question. If he moved, a whole barrage of pain would be set off.
He’d been kicked until he’d lost consciousness. Then when he’d arrived at the main compound of these bastards they’d started in using him as a punching bag until he’d blacked out again.
His eyes were pretty much swollen shut and his lips were cracked open. He had at least one fractured rib and various other bruises and abrasions. Otherwise he was unharmed.
The thought almost made him laugh. Almost.
He couldn’t be certain just yet who the main man running this operation was, but he thought one of the two who’d stood back and watched his last beating might be the head honcho. Not that the information would do A.J. any good. He was just curious.
