She needed to figure out a way to escape. She’d rather be on foot in the mountains than restrained somewhere inside this house.
Ryan had to be frantic. Blair too for that matter. Hell, the entire bunker, including Temple, would have been alerted and on the move.
Bazil narrowed his gaze. “Ms. Zorich. I don’t think you understand.”
She stiffened, her heart rate picking up again.
“I don’t give a fuck what you personally know about leukemia or bringing people back to life. You’re my leverage. I’m certain no one in that secret bunker of yours wants to see you dead. I bet they’ll do anything to ensure your safety. Including cure my daughter.”
And then she froze.
Chapter 20
It was showtime. Ryan forced himself to remain calm while everyone else discussed the next step and then gave the signal to advance. Both Blair and Temple had threatened him to within an inch of his life if he got in the way or tried to be a hero.
He wasn’t certain he valued his life as much as they gave him credit for. He wanted Emily back in his arms immediately.
Three of the men Brock had seen inside the house through the infrared goggles were now pacing the perimeter. Undoubtedly hired help, but apparently not too observant. They may have had the manpower and numbers to take Emily from Blair and Ryan, but they were surrounded now.
In the last half hour, Dalton’s team had taken their time, gathering information so they would know what they were up against. The house belonged to Arnold Bazil, a doctor of psychology. A little research told them everything that the man also confirmed in his discussion with Emily.
The guy was cracked if he thought he could manhandle someone into reanimating his daughter. The process was far more complicated than he apparently thought. He seemed to think he could hold Emily hostage until his daughter was brought back to life. Even if that were possible, this asshole didn’t realize it would take months.
Ryan was relieved when he watched Emily move from the living room to the kitchen. Bazil had untied her. He watched her movements on a small screen in front of him that showed what Brock was seeing through his goggles. Ryan also held an earpiece near the side of his head to pick up the conversation.
Holding his breath, he watched the team take out all three men outside in complete silence. A synchronized assault. Two guards advancing on each man at the same time. The one on the front porch was shot at close range in the back of the head. The man next to the garage was grabbed around the neck, his head snapping back as Ryan cringed. He couldn’t see the fate of the man at the rear of the house, but he assumed the man was similarly eliminated.
No one attempted to take the three men alive. Not surprising in a situation like this where the life of a government employee who had served her country for many years was at stake.
Emily had done a brilliant job stalling. It also wasn’t as necessary as she assumed since she had no way of knowing a well-trained security team was out front prepared to move in quickly.
Suddenly, Bazil jumped to his feet, lifted one arm into the air, and took two strides to yank Emily to standing. Ryan assumed he was holding a gun. He must have realized his men had been compromised.
Ryan’s heart leaped. “Fuck,” he muttered, rising to his feet. He was watching the infrared images moving around on the screen. It was easy to discern which image was Emily because she was significantly shorter. But once the images merged and began moving as one, the definition distinguishing the two grew difficult.
Bazil backed her across the kitchen, one arm raised in the air, probably holding a weapon.
Ryan inched closer, not caring who saw him at this point. Everyone from the bunker had approached the house, including Blair. Although Ryan had been strictly instructed to remain next to the vehicle, he couldn’t abide by that demand any longer.
He held the screen in front of him as he made his way closer to the house. A glance up told him a pair of guards were at the front door, preparing to kick it in.
Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the two figures inside the house disappeared from the screen. Ryan shook the screen as if it were faulty and then glanced up to find Brock tapping the side of his goggles in a similar fashion.
When Brock yanked off the goggles and dropped them next to the house, his weapon raised, Ryan panicked. Brock spoke into the mic next to his shoulder as he raced around the corner of the house toward the front porch.
Ashton was at the front door with Dalton. The moment Dalton kicked the door in, Ashton rushed inside.
Ryan set the screen on the ground and ran forward, not giving a fuck what anyone had to say. What the hell had happened to Bazil and Emily? His heart beat faster, and he couldn’t take a full breath. When he hit the steps, Blair stopped him with a hand to his chest.
“Let them do their jobs, Anand.”
Ryan shot her a glare. “What the fuck happened? Why can’t I see her anymore?”
“Not sure, but I’m still following the GPS.” She lifted a phone in front of his face and pointed at a spot on the screen. It was moving as if Emily were running right past where he stood.
He lifted his gaze to Blair as his thoughts gathered into coherency. And then he spoke. “She’s underground.”
Blair nodded. “Looks like it.”
Ryan blew past Blair to get into the house. The team was already tearing through the place, looking for a door to the basement. One of them shouted, “Over here.” And then he descended, gun drawn.
Something wasn’t right. Ryan didn’t think the man in the basement would find anything. That was too easy. Besides, the GPS locator had indicated Emily was no longer directly under the house.
He spun around, scanning everywhere while three more men scrambled down the stairs.
Blair, seemingly not aware of the wound on her arm, rushed toward the entertainment center, her thoughts obviously matching Ryan’s.
Emily didn’t go down those stairs. Not to the basement.
Ryan followed her lead, heading for the kitchen pantry. There had to be a secret entrance into another section of the house underground. He pushed and pulled on everything he could reach. Nothing moved. The clock was ticking.
“Fuck.” That one word from Blair made Ryan spin around to catch her lowering her phone. “Can’t see the GPS anymore.”
“Dammit.” That was the last thing Ryan wanted to hear. He picked up the pace, Blair returning to do the same. The other two men called out orders down the stairs and then ran outside to see if there was any chance they could find a secret entrance from the back.
It was a long shot since it didn’t seem Emily and Bazil left the house. But wherever they went could have more than one entrance—or an exit. Someone needed to pay attention in case the two emerged in the yard somewhere.
“Anand,” Blair yelled.
He rushed back into the living room to find her pulling on a bookcase. Thank God. With both hands, he helped her get the false shelving open far enough for Blair to squeeze through. She muttered under her breath as she disappeared. “Don’t suppose you’re going to wait for me.”
He ignored her, pushing into the narrow entrance behind her. It was dark. The only light came from Blair’s phone as they descended a ladder and jumped to the ground.
Luckily there was only one direction to go. Blair grabbed Ryan’s arm and held a finger to her lips, her head cocked one direction. Listening.
Nothing. Bazil had put some distance between them.
And then they both started running. They had to be moving faster than Bazil could manage while towing a reluctant Emily. How far behind were they?
Blair covered his mouth at one point. “Shh.”
He must have been breathing too heavily for her taste. They needed the element of surprise. They also had to hope Bazil wouldn’t kill Emily in a last-ditch effort to save himself.
When a gunshot rang out, Ryan’s blood ran cold.
* * *
The last thing Emily wanted to do was head deeper underground.
Every step was putting more distance between her and the house. The ground was slanted. No one was coming for her. She had to get out of this mess on her own.
She had no idea what happened outside. Bazil had placed a call, gotten pissed, and dragged her into a secret passageway. She fought him just enough to keep him from killing her while not making their advance easy.
By this point, he was crazed. There was no reasoning with him. “Keep up, dammit. You’re too slow. We need to make it to the shelter.”
Shelter? Did Bazil have some sort of fallout shelter or something? It wasn’t out of the question. Lots of people who lived nearly off the grid like he did had preparations for a possible nuclear attack. Or in this case, a place to hide if they’re caught kidnapping someone.
She prayed a disturbance outside had caused Bazil to take this action. It might mean someone had found her, though she couldn’t imagine how that would have been possible.
The hallway was narrow and made of cement. It was difficult for both of them to move as one, making it easier for Emily to slow down their progress. Bazil had to grip the sleeve of her jacket to pull her along behind him.
Suddenly, he stopped, nearly slamming into what seemed like a dead end but ended up being a door. He jerked it open and tugged on Emily to shove her inside. She panicked when the door shut, leaving her alone. It had never occurred to her that he might leave her there. Where the hell was he going?
She pounded on the door, screaming as loud as she could in the pitch darkness. A tug on the handle proved futile. She was locked inside.
It only took a moment to realize the steel door was soundproof. Thick. There was no way anyone outside would hear her. Gasping for a breath, she spun around, arms out. “Please, God, help me find a light switch.” She turned back toward the door and flattened her palms on the wall on one side.
Nothing.
Feeling her way to the other side, she tried again, relief flooding her when she flipped a switch that illuminated the entire area. When she turned around, she sucked in a sharp breath. This was indeed a survivalist’s shelter, complete with everything a person would need for months. At least she wouldn’t die down here. Not immediately. But she shuddered at the thought that Bazil might leave her in this shelter as a hostage while he tried to get the government to reanimate his daughter.
Where the hell had Bazil gone? She hadn’t noticed any other paths through the underground tunnel. That didn’t mean they didn’t exist. She’d been so preoccupied trying to slow him down that she could have missed something.
When a gunshot rang out moments later, she rushed back toward the door. The noise had been muffled by the soundproof room, but the unmistakable sound still penetrated.
Another shot made her flinch as she screamed, hoping like hell someone could hear her on the other side of the door.
Suddenly the door flew open, slamming into her and sending her to her butt. Bazil filled the space, his back to her as he held his gun in the air and fired several more shots.
Emily tried to see around him. The doorway was too narrow and the hallway was dark. She lunged for his leg and yanked it hard, sending him to his knees, toppling one direction.
The gun went off again, and she reached for his wrist to slam it into the floor. She needed to disarm him. She wasn’t in the best shape of her life, but she had been gradually getting stronger by the day. And she was at least marginally trained in combat techniques.
The heavy door was closing on its own, so she stuck out her foot to stop it from shutting completely. Wrestling with Bazil while one foot was shoved in the doorframe, she managed to lift his wrist and slam it down again.
He released the gun with a scream. She grabbed for it, scooting backward on her knees to reach for the door. Bazil came after her, wrestling her for the gun. His fist landed on her cheek, snapping her head to one side. Stinging pain left her disoriented as she tried to focus on him.
He squeezed her wrist, trying to get her to drop the gun.
Another shot rang out behind her. Thank God. She had no idea who was behind her, but she had every hope they were there on her behalf and not his, especially since none of the shots hit her.
Someone slammed into the door and pushed it open, freeing her foot.
Emily could only see his or her pant legs. She hoped for dark blue. She got her wish. When she jerked her gaze up, she found Blair pushing deeper into the room, gun raised, aimed at Bazil who now had his hands in the air and was backing up on his ass.
The hand Emily held up with the gun was shaking, and she lifted her other hand to steady herself just as someone else wrapped warm fingers around her grip and eased the gun from her.
She knew those hands.
She closed her eyes and slumped backward into Ryan’s arms.
Chapter 21
“Where are we going?” Emily asked when she noticed Dalton didn’t take the turn that would lead back to the bunker.
She was in the back seat next to Ryan who squeezed her hand, which he hadn’t released since finding her in that underground shelter. “Dalton’s going to drop us off just outside of Falling Rock. My grandmother is going to pick us up.”
Emily smiled. She had yet to meet Patricia Wolbach, even though she knew the older woman lived in Falling Rock not far from the bunker.
Ryan slid his hand up to her neck and threaded his fingers in her hair. “I thought it would be nice to go somewhere quiet and relax instead of a hotel.”
“Do I even want to know why we can’t go back to the bunker?” She cringed.
Ryan shrugged. “If you thought there were a lot of people loitering outside the gate earlier, you should see it now. We can face them later. Let’s hide for a day.”
She nodded. “I like that plan.” She met his gaze. “How did you find me?”
Ryan picked up her arm, turned it over, and rubbed a spot on the inside of her wrist.
She frowned.
He swallowed and met her gaze again. “I put a tracking device in your arm.”
“What? When?” She sat up straighter, glancing down at the spot where he rubbed her wrists. She shivered.
“While you were in a coma. It was protocol. We’ll do the same thing for every one of your team. For your safety.” He narrowed his gaze. “I’m sorry I never told you. I didn’t have permission to divulge that information. I’m sure the government hoped the GPS trackers would never be needed, and no one would ever find out. I hope you aren’t angry.”
She considered his words for a minute and then sighed. How could she be mad when the tracker had saved her life and also proven to be as valuable as the new team suspected? “I’m glad you did it.” She pulled her arm free and rubbed her thighs. “Anything else I need to know?” she said, trying to sound light and humorous.
He shook his head and then kissed her cheek. “No. Just the GPS, and I’m so damn glad.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence. Emily had already given the entire team a rundown of everything that had happened after her abduction. Most of it they already knew because apparently they had been listening to her conversation with Bazil.
It was late afternoon. She was tired. Stressed. Hungry.
When the car pulled over to the side of the road in a deserted area outside of Falling Rock, Emily unbuckled her seat belt, wincing at the pain in her shoulder.
“Are you sure you don’t need an X-ray?” Ryan asked for the millionth time.
“It’ll be fine.” She set her hand on his forearm. “It took a hard hit to the dashboard. It’s bruised, not broken.” She couldn’t imagine what it must look like under her shirt. She hadn’t seen it yet herself.
A second car pulled up behind them, and Ryan gave Emily’s good hand a tug. “That’s her. Let’s go.” He shifted his gaze to Dalton. “Thanks. For everything.”
“Just doing my job.” He twisted around to look at them. “Be safe. You still have your weapon, right?”
“Yep.” Ryan patted his side as he opened the door and slid
from the car, helping Emily out behind him.
She was shaking from the stress of the day. She needed food and sleep. As she followed Ryan toward the white Honda Civic, his grandmother climbed out of the driver’s seat. She smiled at Ryan and set her palm on his cheek before turning toward Emily and pulling her into a gentle embrace.
Emily liked her immediately. Warm. Accepting.
“Let’s get you home. I bet you could use some hot soup, a hot bath, and a good night’s sleep.”
Emily’s shoulders relaxed as Patricia eased back and cupped her face with both hands. Her smile was genuine and kind. She wondered how much the older woman knew. Perhaps it didn’t matter. Patricia was probably used to being unable to ask questions. After all, her daughter and son-in-law had both worked for the same secret government project as her grandson did.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Patricia frowned. “Call me Pat or grandma.”
“Thank you,” Emily whispered.
“Let’s get back to the house,” Ryan said.
“Of course.” Patricia had thick gray hair cut in a stylish wavy bob just below her chin. She was incredibly slender, probably due to genetics rather than dieting.
Emily remembered that Ryan’s mother was built the same, as she followed him to the car and climbed into the back seat. He even tugged the seat belt across her middle and fastened her in before settling in the front passenger seat next to his grandmother.
“You didn’t tell anyone you were coming to get us, right?” he asked as Patricia pulled back onto the road.
“Not a soul. It’s getting dark now, so no one will notice me pulling into the garage. You’ll be safe there.”
“Thanks, Grandma, for doing this.” Ryan’s voice was soft.
Patricia shot him a frown. “Doing what? Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t come see me often enough. I love having you. It’s your home anyway. I’ve been your guest for most of your life.” She chuckled.
He smiled, and the view of his profile warmed Emily’s heart. He loved his grandmother. “I doubt when I come to visit you expect me to bring anyone with me who needs to be hidden,” he joked.
Reviving Emily Page 17
