She fought the blackness sneaking into her periphery. Her last thought was that she had failed to protect Reeves.
Chapter Eleven
Darcy squinted, trying to get her brain to fire. There was a connectivity lapse like slow Wi-Fi. White drapes, antiseptic smell, beeping sounds, the shuffle of feet, and shouts of voices. She was still in the emergency room.
A memory flashed of a fist meeting her face before she woke up in an ambulance. He’d used his car to jerk her neck like a rubber band, then she’d slammed her head into the airbag and then into the headrest. As if that wasn’t enough, the asswipe had knocked her out after t-boning her. Staggering out of the SUV, she’d been unable to react fast enough to defend herself before she hit the cement.
“You’re awake?” A deep bass voice startled her. She lurched toward the sound, causing blinding agony. She was definitely off her game if she hadn’t noticed the enormous man sitting next to her bed. Her head hurt like a son of a gun.
“I’m Nick Jenkins.”
“Reeves?” Her voice cracked with the emotion clogging her throat. All the terror of the minutes watching Reeves have seizures came back in awful precision. “Is he … ”
She didn’t want to imagine the world without Reeves. Her world without him. He couldn’t be dead. She would feel it, wouldn’t she?
“Kidnapped.”
Darcy shot upright, ignoring the twirling room, the atomic pain in her head, and the acute throbbing in her arm. She gazed down at the splint keeping her left arm pinned against her chest. Memories of the ER flashed through her mind. Thank God it was her left shoulder that had been dislocated, not affecting her shooting arm.
“Get me out of here. Now!” she shouted and immediately regretted her rash behavior since the loud decibels pierced like a laser knife to her brain.
“Reeves was poisoned?” She knew the answer and already was rebuking herself. She had allowed her feelings for him to block her judgment. She should have spotted the entire setup as it was going down.
“We’re assuming he was poisoned with cocaine—the same found in Thompson’s body. Which would account for the seizures.”
She was slow on the uptake from the pain and whatever they gave her to fix her shoulder. She needed caffeine, then she’d be firing on all cylinders. The ambulance wasn’t real, but his seizures were.
She covered her mouth and breathed through her nose to fight the nausea creeping up her throat.
“I let them abduct him. I considered riding with him in the ambulance, but the space was small, and I didn’t want to inhibit their ability to take care of him. I never for one second questioned their legitimacy. A random student called 911. Nothing raised any flags.”
If anything happened to Reeves, she would never recover. “They were completely professional. They gave him oxygen and hooked him up to monitors.” The terrible event replayed in her mind.
“They were real EMTs. We found them gagged and tied up with the ambulance in the Hewlett Packard garage.”
She shoved the blanket down, causing excruciating agony to detonate in her arm. She tugged at the hospital gown that was hitched up to her thighs. She had allowed Reeves to be kidnapped when he couldn’t defend himself.
“Did you pick up Wainwright? The poison has to have been in the scotch. I didn’t have any, but Reeves had a huge amount. Wainwright filled his glass, the bastard.”
“Wainwright also got sick. His assistant found him vomiting and shaky.”
“Someone got into Wainwright’s office and poisoned the scotch?” She rubbed her temples, trying to stop the aching pain that was reverberating like a jackhammer to focus on the problem.
“Only your team and mine knew about our meeting with Wainwright. We have to stop the local police from touching the evidence. This is a federal case now. I have jurisdiction, and we need to get that scotch out of police custody.”
“Hey, hold up. You aren’t discharged yet.”
“Then get me discharged.” She had to find Reeves before they tortured him and then shot him point-blank.
“You have a concussion and a dislocated shoulder and possibly a broken nose. Your boss, the director, has already made it clear that this is a CIA operation with Jenkins Security.”
“Get this fucking rail down.” Her hands shook as she tried to release the stupid-ass railing. She had cleaned up her swearing when she joined the CIA, but today she didn’t give a flying fuck. Being raised with a pack of wolves and then in the Army had taught her very colorful and clear ways to communicate.
He pushed it easily, lowering the rail. “It might be better if you rested.”
“And would you rest if Emily was missing?” She stopped before she started to roll her eyes, knowing it would hurt like a mother.
“How do you know about Emily?” He glowered over her, all big and burly, his dark eyes piercing hers. And she wasn’t in the least impressed.
“CIA. I know everything about Jenkins Security.” She didn’t admit that she had listened to Reeves’s and his conversation. She also had delved into Jenkins Security to see if they were a front to launder money from Reeves’s side gigs. Security companies run by ex-military were plentiful and didn’t always care about their clients’ real business as long as they got a paycheck and a fix of adrenaline.
She swung her legs, which seemed to be the only part of her body that wasn’t screaming at her. “I didn’t stop them. I let them slam the door and abduct him.”
“You did what any of us would have done. You were attempting to save his life.”
“You can quit the bullshit. We all know his kidnapping is on me. I should have called for backup, put him in a safe house when we found Tex.”
“It isn’t bullshit. I didn’t think it was necessary, and neither did Reeves. He wouldn’t want you second-guessing your decision. I reassured his sister that he was safe. So don’t put all the blame on your little old self. There’s plenty to go around.”
“We can have a pity party later.”
He laughed. “No touchy-feely, huh?”
“Nope. Army and four brothers knock it right out of you.”
“We have something in common with all the brothers. But not the Army, dogface.” His lips lifted in the smallest of a smile. “Not that the name applies to you.”
One of the many insulting names different branches gave to each other. Dogface was an insult leveled at Army members.
“The way my face feels, I bet it does apply. I’m not planning on looking in a mirror for a while. Can you find my clothes? They should be in a bag somewhere.”
“They’re covered in blood from the guy decking you. I bought you a t-shirt and flip-flops at the gift store, but you’ll have to wear your skirt.”
“As long as I don’t have to get into the heels, it’s all good.” She let her legs dangle, waiting for the room to stop spinning like a damn tilt-a-whirl.
“And I’m assuming there are no leads from the ambulance because the cameras just happened to be off in the very big and very busy garage. And Reeves’s phone?”
“Nothing. It is trashed or they took out the SIM card. The same for yours. We tried to get a location on your phone and Reeves’s computer, but nothing.”
“They didn’t hit me to stop me from following the ambulance.” She placed one foot on the floor and waited before putting her whole weight down. She leaned heavily against the bed, letting the waves of nausea wash over her and the spasms in her temple slow down.
“I’m assuming they wanted Reeves’s computer. They took your phone and your Sig too.”
“I took his bag off his shoulder when he was seizing.” Tears welled behind her eyes. Damn, she would not look weak in front of Nick Jenkins.
She couldn’t allow herself to consider how easily they could have overdosed Reeves. And he might be dead.
“They could have overdosed Reeves as they did Tex.”
“I bet they didn’t know that Tex had a heart condition,” Nick said. “Reeves is healthy. He’s
alive.”
She nodded and regretted it when the room spun from the slight motion.
“If they wanted Reeves dead, they would have killed him.”
Darcy was glad that Nick Jenkins didn’t sugarcoat it for her, accepting that she could handle whatever came at her.
“And they can’t access Reeves’s computer without Reeves, so they have to keep him alive.” Hope blossomed in her aching body. “We need to find him now. Before he becomes expendable. Let’s go.”
“I can keep you updated without you leaving the hospital.”
And she thought it had registered with Jenkins that she was no fragile flower. She started to raise her hand and then stopped midair at the pain and the constriction of the splint. “I’m going to leave, with or without your assistance.”
“Does Reeves know what a PITA you are?”
“Of course not. He thinks I’m charming.”
He snorted, shaking his head. “You’re a lot like my sisters.”
In the midst of all of her misery, his comment made her feel better.
He handed her the t-shirt and dropped the flip-flops in front of her feet. “I’ll get the nurse to help you get dressed. And then I’ll get you discharged.”
She sat on the edge of the bed now that the show was over for Jenkins. Her pain was nothing in comparison to what Reeves was enduring. Tex’s bruised face flashed before her eyes. She would find Reeves or die trying.
Chapter Twelve
Reeves was trapped in a nightmare. He couldn’t escape. He spiraled down into the deep, dark tunnel. The walls and ceilings had collapsed, burying him in a black hell. He couldn’t suck air into his lungs. He fought the sensation of being suffocated. Death tightened the vise on his chest. Struggling to wake up and end the torture, he pushed against the mud to no avail. His arms and legs were heavy and immobile. He had to escape, had to reach the woman to save her.
Men’s loud voices in the distance stirred him out of the unending hallucination. It would be easy to surrender and drift away. His eyes fluttered shut, sinking back into the misery until an angry voice startled him.
“He’ll kill you if this bastard dies like the last one. You shouldn’t have put the whole fucking amount in the scotch.”
“Who knew a tech nerd would drink so much.”
The mention of tech nerd and scotch roused Reeves into total alertness. He lay still, his eyes closed as he strained to follow every word. Trying hard to track their words that came in and out like static in a bad speaker. Their voices grew closer. He heard the shuffle of their feet and heavy breathing. They were standing over him, staring at him?
“The boss must be desperate to have come up with such a stupid-ass idea of using C to give the dude seizures.”
“It’s good the nerd ain’t dead, cuz then you would be too, bro.”
Reeves fought every urge to move, to hide any hint of being awake. Reeves knew his brain was fried from the cocaine because he couldn’t remember having seizures and how that helped the fuckers capture him. However, they got him here, wherever here was, and he was a prisoner.
“What the fuck? Who goes into business with a white dude who wants to be called ‘mandamás,’ as if he’s the top dog of the Sureños? The freak had some serious shit and a death wish going on.”
That greasy French fry smell when driving by a fast-food drive-through wafted over Reeves. His captors weren’t into healthy eating. No surprise there.
“What dumb fucker offs himself mixing snow with Xanax? The dude was supposed to be such a genius. Now, we’ve only got this guy. The Sureños and the boss needed him to do the computer shit. And if he fails … we’re all in deep to … those Russian fuckers.”
“You better wake him up and give him some water. I’ll text Galina. She is one cold bitch.”
“Can’t believe you had to sucker punch that CIA bitch to get his computer.”
“I could feel the cartilage break when I connected with her skank face. She’s got balls to get out of the car after I T-boned her. Man, I accelerated before I slammed into her.”
Reeves was wide awake. Adrenaline mainlining through his blood did that. Darcy. They had T-boned her, then the bastard had hit her. The asshole was so dead for bragging that he broke her nose. Reeves was primed to choke the life out of the bastard. The only good news was that he knew that Darcy was alive, and they hadn’t decided to give her seizures with that cocaine mixture. Small blessings in this shithole situation.
Reeves strained to remember how he and Darcy had become separated. His last memory was falling against Darcy, thinking he was becoming a lightweight who couldn’t hold a single tumbler of scotch. Flashes of Darcy cradling his head in her lap and feeling as if he were floating were all that he had. Nothing else.
He tried to sort out the dudes’ information, but his razor-sharp focus was dulled like a butter knife. He already knew that the Sureños were involved, but these dimwits worked for a “boss” aligned with the gang and somehow with the Russians.
Was “the white dude” Charlie who offed himself? But they’d learned that Charlie was alive, which meant that it had to be Tex. But that didn’t add up since someone killed Tex, and they said this white dude offed himself mixing cocaine with Xanax. Reeves’s head hurt from his attempt to concentrate and sort through the information.
It didn’t matter who was behind his capture. Darcy and the Jenkinses would figure it out. Reeves had to get access to his computer and send Darcy a message with his GPS. And then he had to escape. Not that much to handle when he probably couldn’t stand or remember his password.
“Hey, asshole, wake up.” Reeves’s arm was yanked almost out of his shoulder. He could feel McDonald’s breath on his face.
“Dump the water on him.”
Shit. Time to give up the possum game. Reeves slowly opened one eye, preparing for the worst.
“Get up and drink the water. You need to get to work if you want to see your CIA girlfriend again.”
Reeves opened both eyes, trying to avoid getting any closer than absolutely necessary to sit up. An obese guy with caramel-colored skin and a do-rag on his head, keeping his dreadlocks in place, hovered over Reeves.
“You going to release me after I show you the difference in Python versus Java code?” He believed that they planned for him to see Darcy as much as he believed they were the tech team.
McDonald shot a blank look at his partner, who was the muscle. He wore a tight green t-shirt advertising a local gym, his blond hair in a military cut, full sleeves of colorful tats on both arms. Reeves didn’t recognize the tattoos—were they Sureños gang tats?
“Sure. Once you hold down the water, we’ve got grub for you.” The muscle nodded toward the table holding bags of drive-through food.
He would never be able to eat fast food again. “Thanks.”
Reeves waited for the room to not tilt and the acid crawling up his throat to stop. He swung around to sit on the edge of the steel cot. Holding his hands to his head, he groaned, overdramatizing how badly he felt. He wanted his captors to underestimate him and his training. Unfortunately, he didn’t need to act much. Coming down from the drug cocktail was playing havoc with his nervous system. Every sound, smell, and touch was magnified to the point of pain.
Keeping his head down, he scanned the room from underneath his hands.
He was in an eight-by-ten room with no windows, nothing but his cot, a metal table, chairs, and the bags of food and water bottles. Oh, and his computer bag. The door lock from this angle looked to be a Schlage Encode. Easy-peasy. And there was no urinal. All adding up in his favor.
“Galina should be here soon.” McDonald took Reeves’s arm and jerked him up. “Time to show off all that genius.”
“I don’t need to show off to anyone.” Reeves didn’t like the guy’s sweaty fingers squeezing his arm.
McDonald pulled out a Glock from the back of his jeans. “Get over to the table by your bag. Not sure what the big deal is about one computer. We had
to go to a lot of trouble to get it.”
The reminder of what they had done to Darcy to get his computer fueled his anger to take these assholes down. They were playing in his world and didn’t stand a chance. And they had made a fatal mistake by allowing him his computer.
“I need to take a piss after you made me drink all the water.” He needed to do a little reconnaissance if he planned to get the hell out of here.
The two shared a look before McDonald wrenched his arm again. The violent motion set off the shooting pain behind his eyes and the nausea. Reeves took a slow breath, managing not to fight back and break the guy’s arm. He had never actually broken anyone’s limbs, but he had practiced the technique. And it would give him great pleasure to watch this guy drop and cry like a baby.
Reeves was ready to pull his arm out of the guy’s hand when he remembered he was supposed to be a nerd who was still feeling the effects of the cocaine.
Reeves swayed against Muscle, ramming his whole weight into the guy. “Sorry, I’m still a bit woozy from whatever you gave me to get my cooperation.”
“Smart-ass. You got the amount you needed.”
Now, Reeves had to hurt McDonald for the drugs and Muscle for touching Darcy. Just as soon as the room stopped spinning and he didn’t want to hurl, he’d have a plan.
Chapter Thirteen
Darcy awoke when the car stopped at the gate to a two-story, ranch-style house on the shores of a shimmering lake. The bright sun’s reflection hurt like a needle stab to her eyes. Her headache had gone from excruciating to a dull throb. She could handle the headache once she had coffee. Caffeine fixed most problems.
She crashed immediately in the front seat after walking from the ER to the car. She had refused a wheelchair beyond the curb, not wanting to be perceived as weak by the Jenkins, but then slept, oblivious to the car ride. Talk about situational awareness. And then it dawned on her—she fully trusted Nick Jenkins to cover her.
Mission: Impossible to Deny (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 7) Page 9
