The Territory of Lies

by Ana Stone

  "And?" Blake could not tell by looking at the screen what Weasel was getting at.

  Weasel keyed in a command and hit the enter button. "So, here's the skinny. The funds originally came from an account in a bank in Iran."

  "Iran?" Blake's eyebrows and voice rose at the same time. "You have a name for the account?"

  Weasel nodded and pointed to a line on the screen. Blake read it and flopped back in his chair in shock. "You've got to be kidding!"

  "Afraid not," Weasel leaned back and looked at him. "Man, if I didn't know this was a set up even I'd think you were hip deep in this shit. And considering the money came from the dude highest on America's shit list, if this gets out you'll be lucky if the bureau puts you under a prison somewhere. All it'd take is one whiff of this getting to the media and people would be breaking down the door to lynch your white ass."

  Blake nodded mutely. Weasel was right. "But there's one thing that doesn't fit. No one's trying to pin anything on me so what's their angle? I'm a fed on the take? The take for what? And what's worth over six million dollars from the bad boy in Iran?"

  Weasel tapped Blake on the forehead with his index finger. "Duh huh, dude. Remember how the press was screaming 'middle east' involvement right after the Ohio? What kind of parallels do you think they'd draw from a federal agent on the griff from Mr. Iran himself? Not only will they bury you, it’ll add fuel to the fire from the administration and Potus’ desire to shut down the borders and declare martial law."

  Blake felt another wave of sickness wash over him. "Holy shit! Someone's trying to set me up for this bombing!"

  Weasel nodded silently then turned to the computer. "Man, we've got to do something about this and we've got to do it like yesterday. The trouble is, this is going to take time and I don't know how much of that we have. It'd be my guess that whoever's behind this isn’t going to wait long to let the hammer fall." He looked at his watch and cursed. "Damn! And we're supposed to be at Forrest's in half an hour!"

  Blake stood up and gave the screen one last look. "Okay, let's get over there and see if we can nail Zayne. If he's behind this then we can stop it before it goes any further."

  "We hope," Weasel added as he turned off the computer. "Otherwise, my friend - your goose is cooked."

  Blake grimaced slightly then a look of cold determination took hold of his face. "I don't like goose. I'm going to bust this bastard, Weasel and I'm going to enjoy every moment of it. When we get through with him, he'll wish he'd never laid eyes on me."

  Weasel didn’t comment as he followed Blake out of the house but the expression on his face said that he was not so confident.

  

  Sydney jerked awake as the lights came on. Her body ached and her head felt like someone was hammering inside it. She covered her face with her hands and rolled over onto her stomach on the cement floor.

  "What do you want, Sydney Forrest?"

  That question, issued from that unchanging, emotionless, monotone voice was more frightening than the sound of a wild beast charging at her with fangs bared. For what seemed like an eternity she had gone from excruciating pain to total unconsciousness, only to be awakened time and again to be asked that same question. She had given every answer she could think to give and none of them had been right. She could not even remember the number of times she had been asked. Her entire existence seemed to be nothing more than a hole of empty blackness, interrupted by pain and that one dreaded question.

  She was so afraid of answering wrong that she hesitated. If only she had some clue as to what the man wanted then maybe she could come up with the right answer to the question. But he offered no clues.

  A cold hand touched her back and she stiffened then curled up tight in a fetal position. "What do you want?" the question was repeated.

  "An end to this," she whispered.

  "That is not the correct response," the man replied then directed his words to someone else in the room. "Take her to the table."

  Sydney screamed and fought as she felt hands take hold of her arms and lift her from the floor. Unfortunately, her strength was near depletion. Unable to do little more than struggle feebly she was blindfolded and carried from the room. She felt her feet dragging on a smooth surface for a little ways then she was lifted higher and strapped down to a cold surface. Her arms and legs were stretched out tight and strapped down and the blindfold was left on.

  "What do you want, Sydney Forrest?" the voice came from beside her right ear.

  "I don't know," her voice was barely audible.

  "That is unfortunate."

  She didn’t have time to steel herself against the pain as it came. All at once nothing existed but pain. In sheer desperation she tried to focus on something to lessen the agony. Blake's face appeared in her mind and without realizing it she screamed his name.

  The pain suddenly stopped and she heard a voice at the foot of the table. It sounded exactly like Blake. "You should have stayed out of it, Syd. You should have just forgotten what Tyler said and quit digging for answers. Then this wouldn't have had to happen. But you wouldn't let it go, would you? You just had to know everything. You had to know who the mystery man was, didn't you?"

  "Blake?" she croaked, straining at her bonds. "Is that you? Please help me. Make them stop."

  "What do you want?" the monotone voice of her captor sounded in her ear.

  "I want to be rescued," she replied without thinking.

  "And who will rescue you, Sydney Forrest?"

  "Blake," she answered hopefully.

  "I am sorry. That is incorrect."

  She opened her mouth to speak but a scream erupted instead as once more the pain consumed her.

  

  Blake and Weasel were secreted in Jack Forrest's private study at the rear of the mansion in front of a bank of monitors when Adrian Zayne arrived. Thanks to the equipment that had been set up earlier they could see and hear everything. In the garage was another set-up connected to recording equipment so that the meeting could be documented.

  "Mr. Zayne." Jack Forrest greeted Adrian as the butler showed him into the darkly paneled den. "Good evening."

  "A pleasure to see you again, sir." Adrian smiled winningly and extended his hand to Jack. "How is your lovely wife?"

  "Fine." Jack gave Adrian's hand a cursory shake then gestured towards the bar. "Would you care for a drink?"

  "Not at this time, thank you," Adrian declined politely.

  "Then perhaps we should just get to the point of this meeting, Mr. Zayne."

  "Yes, I quite agreed," Adrian replied as he took a seat in a deep leather arm chair across from the couch where Jack sat.

  Neither man spoke for a moment. Adrian looked around the room for a moment then looked directly at the corner of the room where a camera lens was hidden in the massive bookshelves. He smiled fleetingly then turned his gaze to Jack Forrest.

  Blake's jaw tightened as he saw Adrian smile up at the camera. "Senator," Adrian began speaking. "I felt it important that we speak man to man on this matter. As it happens your daughter and I are very much in love."

  Blake jumped in his seat at the same time he saw Jack tense. "What?" Jack stammered in surprise.

  "Yes, I'm afraid it's all too true." Adrian's smile never wavered. "And, being somewhat traditional in such matters, I felt I should formally ask for her hand in marriage from her father."

  "That's what you wanted to discuss? Your relationship with my daughter?"

  "I can think of nothing more important, sir."

  Jack stood up. "Could you excuse me for a moment?"

  Adrian nodded and Jack left the room. A few seconds later Blake heard a tap at the door of the study. Weasel opened it and Jack walked in. "What the hell is this crap about that scum and Sydney?"

  Weasel tried to calm him. "Jack, listen, he's probably just trying to rattle you or something. I don't know. But you need to just go along with him. We can't take a chance on spooking him so just play along and maybe you can stee
r the conversation away from Syd and back to Zayne's blackmail threats.

  Jack frowned and looked over at Blake. "He's lying, isn't he? She isn't really in love with that shyster, is she? I thought you and she were−"

  "No, she isn't in love with Zayne," Blake answered. "And yes, Syd and I do care very much for each other. Zayne's just up to his games. But since he's on the subject of Syd, how about asking why she didn't come with him to give you the big news about their supposed undying love?"

  "Why?"

  Blake did not want to worry Jack with his fears so he just shrugged. "See if it trips him up."

  "Is there something you're not telling me?" Jack's question sounded more like a demand.

  Weasel intervened, putting his arm around Jack's shoulders. "Don't worry. Everything's fine. But you better get back in there before he gets suspicious."

  Jack left and Weasel turned to Blake. "You have any ideas what trip Zayne's on now?"

  Blake just shook his head and turned his attention back to the screen that showed Adrian Zayne smiling up at the camera.

  

  It was nearly midnight when Blake and Weasel returned to his apartment. Blake unlocked the door, marched inside, hurled his keys across the room then drove his fist into the wall, smashing through the sheetrock.

  "Son of a bitch!" he shouted, pulling his fist free and watching the plaster dust and debris fall to the carpet. "Just what the hell was all that?" He turned to Weasel.

  "Beats me," Weasel said tiredly. "It doesn't add up. When I talked to Jack earlier he said Zayne almost came right out and said he was going to blackmail him. So, why does he show up tonight and say nothing? Also−" he paused for a moment. "Where's Syd?"

  "I wish to hell I knew," Blake grumbled. Nothing had gone right the entire night. Zayne had showed up at Senator Forrest's as planned, but he had spent the entire evening talking about how much in love he and Sydney were and how it would mean so much to them to have Jack and Shirley's blessings.

  Jack had followed their suggestion and tried his best to steer the conversation around to Weasel's role as Armand and the blackmail, but Adrian had ignored all attempts. Finally, Jack had given up and Adrian had returned to his original conversation of plans he and Sydney had of spending their lives together.

  Late in the visit Jack had excused himself again to go to the restroom but slipped into his study where Blake and Weasel were listening in to the conversation going on in the den. "What do I do?" he asked.

  Weasel started to make a suggestion but Blake cut him off. He was bothered not only by Zayne's reluctance to discuss what the meeting had been called for, but he was worried about Sydney. She was supposed to be with Zayne on his yacht. So, if he was there with Forrest, then where was she? He didn’t want to alarm Jack, but he wanted to know where Syd was so he told Jack again to try and pin Zayne why Sydney hadn’t come with him if he wanted to discuss their future.

  Jack had done as Blake suggested and Zayne had suddenly taken on a very worried demeanor. He told Jack that he hadn’t wanted to worry him but that he had tried to get in touch with Sydney for the past couple of days. He said that they had originally planned on taking his yacht out for the weekend but she never shown up. He also told Forrest that the last he had heard from her she had said she was taking a drive into Virginia with an old boyfriend, Blake Edwards, to tell him that she and Adrian were in love and she would not be seeing him anymore. He went on to say that he was very worried for her safety, as she’d told him that Blake Edwards was an insanely jealous and often abusive man.

  Jack had stammered around in surprise for a moment and Adrian suggested that if Sydney hadn’t returned by morning that he and Jack go to the police and have them pick Blake up for questioning. Jack agreed and after a few minutes Adrian had left.

  That was when all hell broke loose.

  "Where's my daughter?" Jack demanded as soon as Blake and Weasel walked into the room.

  "As far as I knew she was with Zayne on his yacht," Blake answered.

  "And what about this trip she took with you?" Jack demanded. "Where exactly did you take her, Mr. Edwards? And where is she now?"

  Blake explained as best he could without going into intimate detail. Jack listened without interruption until Blake fell silent then he walked over to stand in front of him. "You listen to me, Mr. Edwards. If you've done anything to harm my daughter I'll see you get the chair, do you understand me?"

  Weasel jumped in, in Blake's defense. "Jack, listen to me. He hasn't done anything to Syd. He's telling you everything we know. Syd said Zayne was going to pick her up Friday morning and they were going out on his yacht for the weekend. Blake dropped her at her apartment Friday morning and that's the last either of us have seen or heard from her. But before you get in a knot, let me just say that she had her cell and her laptop with her. With those she could have gotten in touch if she was in some kind of trouble."

  "This has gone too far!" Jack exclaimed. "I never agreed to put my only child's life at risk for this insane plan. I want Sydney found and I want her found now. Both of you listen to me. I want to see my daughter safe and unharmed. You find her and bring her here. If I don't see you arrive here first thing in the morning I’m going to pay a visit to the Director of the bureau. Is that clear?"

  "Yes, sir," they both said in unison.

  "Then get to it!"

  Blake and Weasel left the house. Outside in the garage the surveillance team was loading their equipment into the van. One of the men walked over to Blake. "Sir, about the recordings. I, uh, I . . . I have to turn them over to the CD director, sir. It's regulations. Charges were made against you sir and I −"

  "I understand," Blake interrupted. "You do what you have to do."

  "Thank you, sir," The younger man turned away then stopped and looked back at Blake. "For what it's worth, sir. All of us are behind you. We know you didn't do what Zayne said."

  "Thanks." Blake tried to smile. "I appreciate that. Now, you guys get moving. Until you hear otherwise, the investigation proceeds as planned."

  He and Weasel watched the men get in the van and leave then they got in Blake's car. Neither one of them spoke the entire way back to Blake's apartment.

  Finally, Blake looked at Weasel. "You don't think he's done something to her, do you?"

  Weasel shook his head. "I don't know, man. I hope not."

  "We've got to find her, GW."

  Weasel nodded. "And fast. Jack's as good as his word. "If we don't produce her, he'll go straight to the top."

  Blake sighed and took a seat, staring vacantly across the room. It seemed as if suddenly his entire world was crumbling around him and he did not have a clue how to stop it.

  Sunday, April 30

  Blake was pacing the floor when Weasel arrived. "Well?" Blake looked at him.

  "Nothing." Weasel's voice sounded tired and defeated. "Man, it doesn't make sense! His yacht's anchored, Syd's apartment's empty and no one has heard diddly from her."

  "And she apparently isn’t at Zayne's either," Blake commented.

  Weasel's eyebrows rose. "What makes you say that?"

  "I had a team check out his mansion and the penthouse at the Watergate. "They came up empty handed on both counts."

  Weasel looked at his watch. "Well, we've about run out of time, dude. What do you want to do?"

  "Do you think you could stall Forrest for a while, give us some more time?"

  Weasel frowned for a moment then nodded. "I'll give it my best shot. You gonna hang around here or go home?"

  "Might as well stay." Blake sat down on the corner of his office desk. "If Forrest won't agree to give us more time it'll save a trip when he comes down to blow me out of the water."

  "Hey, man." Weasel walked across the room and put his hand on Blake's shoulder. "Don't give up yet. Maybe I can convince Jack. Meanwhile, have you checked all the flights and trains out the past couple of days?"

  "That was at the top of the list," Blake grumbled. "Weasel, just betwee
n us, I'm getting scared that something's happened to her. What if she's−"

  "She's not!" Weasel's voice sounded rough and harsh. "Syd's alive, I know it. If she was− well, I'd just know it. But she's not - and we will find her."

  "I hope you're right. I really hope you're right. "

  

  Awaken by a sudden blast of noise Sydney jerked and looked around wild-eyed. She was strapped down to the table and the room was completely dark. Her head felt as if it would burst from the noise. It was like a confused din of sirens, alarms and horns all blaring at the same time.

  She tried to wiggle her arms free from the straps that held them but they were fastened too tightly. After several minutes the pain in her head from the noise became too much to bear and she started to scream; the sound of her voice blending with the cacophony.

  All at once the noise stopped. Simultaneously the lights came on. Sydney's scream lingered for a moment longer, stopping only when the man entered the room.

  She watched him through bleary, tear filled eyes as he approached her. By now she had learned not to try and anticipate what would happen when he appeared. It could be any of a wide varieties of torture that would be used.

  "What do you want, Sydney Forrest?"

  That question. She had reached a point where she would have preferred for him just to put a gun to her head and pull the trigger, rather than ask that question. She shook her head, biting her bottom lip to keep from crying.

  "I require an answer." He raised his hands to let her see the hypodermic needle in one and the cattle prod in the other.

  Sydney's heart jumped painfully in her chest then began to race. Sweat poured from her body and she trembled as if having a seizure. Two more men entered the room. One wrapped a rubber cord around her arm, just above the elbow and the other pushed a cart containing a car battery and jumper cables.

  The monotone man, as she had labeled him, inserted the needle in her arm at the crease of the elbow then released the rubber binder. She felt the rush of the drug like fire through her veins and gasped.