Power Reclaimed (D.C. Power Games Book 2)

by Ivy Nelson

  Chapter 22

  Adara lifted her head and looked around. She felt groggy from anesthesia. There were no windows in the room, so she had no way of telling if it was night or day and wasn’t sure how long she had been out. According to the doctor who did the procedure it wasn’t supposed to take more than a couple of hours. After an attempt to raise her head, she decided to close her eyes and rest a bit longer. Michael’s face met her in the darkness and she did her best to fight back the tears. Without him near, she felt empty.

  Regret washed over her for not trusting him enough to listen to him about her brother. He’d told her not to do anything stupid, and that’s exactly what she had done. Now, she had no idea how she was going to get out of here. What on earth was she supposed to do? Agreeing to the medical procedure was more about self preservation than good-will. The look in her brother’s eyes when they last spoke told her that he had nothing but contempt for her. He loved his father though, of that she was certain and his father currently called the shots.

  Adara suspected that if anything happened to the aging terrorist, her brother would be the one to take over and he would have no qualms about executing her. In college, Adara had taken a few classes on terrorism, and everything she had learned told her that most terrorists were people who felt like they didn’t have a choice. The exception to that were those in positions of power. Those people tended to be manipulative. Even then, slapping the label of pure evil on them was inaccurate. To an American who had been through nine-eleven, evil is exactly what they would call it. But academia had shown her that there was so much more to it. There was no defending these people, but understanding often led to prevention in Adara’s opinion and there was a lot that average citizens just didn’t understand about the motivation that drove people to terrorism.

  The door opened, startling Adara out of her thoughts. Her brother stood in the doorway, he seemed agitated.

  “Sister. It is good to see you awake.”

  “How is your father?” she managed to croak out.

  “He’s your father too,” he said tensely.

  She decided not to push the issue and simply nodded.

  “I’m here to escort you back to your room so you can be more comfortable.”

  As they wound through hallways in the direction of the bedroom, a man stopped them and whispered something in her brother’s ear.

  “Damn it. Take her back to her room and lock her in. Make sure it is destroyed and search her things for anything else that may have transmitted something.”

  To Adara he said, “You just fucked up sister.” Fear wound its way through her intestines and threatened to come up in the form of vomit. She had no idea what her brother was talking about.

  The stranger gripped her upper arm and took off, not caring that she had to jog to keep up with his long strides. At her bedroom door, the man threw open the door and shoved her inside. When the door was shut behind them, he began tossing things about in the room. Then, he went to the jacket she had been wearing when she arrived and ripped the flag pin off of it.

  Bradley had given it to her to wear. Was it some kind of tracking device? The man stomped on it with his boot and snarled at her. “You’re dead,” he said before storming out of the room. Hearing the lock click into place from the outside made her jump. This was bad. Very very bad. Then again, if her pin had been transmitting some kind of signal, that meant it was likely that people in the states knew where she was. For a moment, she allowed herself to feel hope that Michael or Peter would come to her rescue.

  They left her alone for hours. She was grateful for the snacks and water that had been previously left in her room because she was starving. After several failed attempts at a nap, she paced for a little while, then she curled up in the chair in the room and contemplated her surroundings. There was still no way out. Her only hope was a rescue mission.

  The door flew open and two men with guns stormed into the room.

  “Get up,” one of them bellowed. Adara did her best not to cower in fear at the sight of their weapons.

  When she didn’t move, the second man grabbed her by the arm and pulled her from her chair. They dragged her out of the room and down the hall to another door. Inside, her brother was waiting there with a camera and a chair set up in front of it.

  “Sit,” he said tersely.

  Again, the room had no windows, so she wasn’t sure what time of day or night it was but the room smelled of mildew and stale body odor.

  What were they doing in here?

  “Your flag pin had a tracking device in it sister. Did you know about this?”

  Adara’s head moved back and forth. “No. I swear I didn’t,” she whispered. “My campaign manager gave me that pin.”

  “Likely from your cop boyfriend.” Her brother wrinkled his nose at the mention of Michael.

  It hadn’t occurred to her that Michael may have h ad something to do with the flag pin. Getting mad about it now seemed silly and yet she was angry.

  “We’re going to record a message and send it to your friends. We have to make sure they don’t get any cute ideas about trying to rescue you. Then I’m afraid it’s goodbye dear sister. We have to move and we just don’t have room for you. My father will mourn your death but he will understand.”

  Her whole body trembled as she realized they intended to kill her. She just prayed they didn’t do it on camera for others to see. Her friends and family didn’t need to see that.

  “Let’s get her ready to record.”

  The hand landing hard on the side of her face was unexpected. She was able to steel herself and prepare for the second blow.

  ###

  SeventyTwo hours. That’s how long Adara had been gone and Michael was tired of sitting on the sidelines not doing anything to find her. He was ready to drive across the border and find her himself, but he knew that was likely to be a failure. Without proper intel, he risked getting her killed. Even with sufficient information, there was always the risk of a hostage dying in a rescue operation. He prayed his friends could find what they needed soon. It was difficult to refrain from pestering them every hour. Thankfully, they were pretty good about keeping him in the loop, even if that meant telling him they didn’t have anything new to share.

  Darci insisted he stay at her house, but it felt awkward since they were newlyweds and he hated the idea of intruding. Bradley and Darci both insisted it was no intrusion. That didn’t stop him from feeling like it was, so he spent most of his time in his office at the precinct which is where he sat now. On his desk, lay every piece of information they had on the possible private airstrips Adara could have been taken to in Canada. Without any real details on the man who took her, he wasn’t going to find anything though. Her flag pin had been transmitting for a little while but not long enough to pinpoint her exact location. All they had was a rough idea.

  His cell phone rang, it was Peter.

  “Find anything?” he asked, not bothering with hello.

  “Maybe. Carrie used the name her brother gave when Leslie Hanover hired him, and we

  found a similar name on a flight manifest to Canada on the night he took her. It’s not much but at least we have an idea of where he took her. Her contact also promised a potential location this evening. The information we got from her flag pin helped him narrow down possible places they could be hiding.”

  Geeze, how many terrorists were hiding out in Canada? “That’s better than nothing,” Michael said, blowing out a breath. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I’m feeling pretty helpless here.”

  “I know you are buddy. Just let us do what we do best. We’ll bring her home.”

  Michael ended the call and stood to pace. He had plenty of vacation time, he could still make that trip to Canada. Not that he gave a damn about whether he had vacation time. If there was a chance he could find her, he was going to. He stared at the information scattered over his desk again and prayed Carrie’s source could come through with a lo
cation for them.

  An hour went by before his phone rang again. It was Bradley.

  “I’m sending you a link. You’re going to want to watch this. And try not to freak out.”

  That couldn’t be good news. Just then the messenger on his computer dinged, and he clicked the link waiting for him there.

  The blood drained from his face.

  “FUCK. Find her. Damn it. Find her right now.”

  Adara sat in a chair in a dingy room, two men, their faces obscured, stood next to her with large guns.

  Adara’s voice shook as she spoke. “They know you were tracking me with my flag pin and that you have our location. Please… please don’t try to rescue me or they’ll kill me.” Dark bruises had formed under her eyes and he could tell she was on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered before the screen went black.

  “DAMN IT,” he yelled again.

  “I know. I’m fucking pissed and terrified. Is she right? Do we have her location?”

  “Just a general idea. Carrie’s source is supposedly close to narrowing it down for us. I think he’s deep cover CIA or something because she won’t tell me shit about him.”

  “There’s a SEAL team ready to go as soon as we have a location.”

  “I just hope to God they aren’t too late.”

  “Let’s not think like that man.”

  Michael clenched his fist, fighting the urge to punch a hole in the screen where Adara’s face had been. He ended the call and went back to pacing his office.

  Forty-Five minutes later, Peter called.

  “We got her.”

  “What? What about the SEAL team?”

  “Let’s just say, Steven is better than the SEAL team. But all we did was get Adara. The SEALs are going in for the terrorists next.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Best not to ask too many questions my friend.”

  “Where is she? When will she be home?”

  “She’s at the hospital being checked out. She’ll be on a plane first thing in the morning.”

  Michael felt his legs go weak, and he sank to his knees in the middle of his office.

  The next day, Michael stood in front of the big glass window at the small private airport, waiting on Adara’s plane to land. He should have gone to Canada, he would already be near her again. There was no way to know what was going to happen next, but he needed to lay eyes on her, touch her, make sure she was OK before they figured anything else out.

  A plane touched down, and he stepped outside into the crisp air. It took ten minutes to open the plane door and lower the steps. Adara appeared and Michael’s breath caught. She stood next to a man he didn’t recognize. Carrie’s secret contact? The stranger helped Adara down the steps and he fought the urge to run across the tarmac to the plane to greet her. There were too many emotions roiling inside him. Waiting was best. He took a few deep breaths as he watched her approach him.

  Even from far away, she looked tired. Deep breaths, wait, he told himself again. It felt like a lifetime before she was standing in front of him. The unknown man stepped off to the side where Peter was waiting. Michael was grateful for the privacy. He opened his arms, and she stepped into them. His whole body sagged with relief as a great weight lifted from his shoulders. What he wasn’t expecting was the anger that enveloped him. That wasn’t something he wanted her to see though, so he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, trying not to tense up again.

  “I’m glad you’re safe,” he whispered.

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen,” she said with a shaky voice. Michael didn’t respond, just kissed the top of her head.

  Adara pulled back and studied him.

  “You’re angry,” she said after a beat.

  She wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.

  “Let’s get you out of here,” he said gruffly, unable to keep all the emotions out of his voice.

  She just nodded and followed him. Back inside the terminal, Stephen Miller was waiting for them.

  “Miss Kent. Welcome home and thank you for your help. You’ve done a great service for your country.”

  Michael wanted to deck him.

  “She nearly got herself fucking killed,” he bit out as he clenched his fists. Beside him, he felt Adara stiffen.

  “But she didn’t,” the agent said dismissively. “We’ll need to do a full debrief.”

  “I didn’t get any sleep on the plane home. Can we do it tomorrow please? I just want to shower and go to bed.” Adara’s voice was shaky with exhaustion and probably still some traces of fear.

  To his credit, the agent agreed to wait. Michael placed his hand on the small of Adara’s back and led her out of the airport. He opened the passenger door of his SUV and waited for her to get settled before he shut the door and walked around to the drivers side.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as he started the car.

  “Starving actually.” She twisted her fingers in her lap and sounded nervous.

  They could have this conversation at dinner then. Probably best anyway. He wasn’t sure if he could be alone with her right now. There was no risk of him hurting her out of anger. Instead, he was worried he wouldn’t be able to do the hardest thing he’d ever had to do in his life if he got her alone. They would wind up in bed instead and that couldn’t happen. Not now. Not anymore.

  They drove to a small place he knew would be quiet this time of day and got them a table in the back. The car ride had been silent, and now he struggled to find the right place to start.

  “You’re angry with me,” she said, repeating her observation from the airport.

  “You’re damn right I’m angry with you. I’m glad you’re alive. Dear god am I glad you’re safe. But how the hell are we supposed to move forward? How do I trust you after this? His hands flexed into fists as he spoke.

  “I don’t know what to say. You were right. I should have listened. But I didn’t. Can we just go back to being crazy about each other and having a good time?”

  He looked away. “I don’t think that’s possible yet. Not until we have a serious conversation about this. It’s not just something we can sweep under the rug Adara. You violated my trust and nearly got yourself executed on camera. How am I supposed to just forget that?”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m not sure. I just want more from you than trying to brush this off as nothing. I’m a cop. I live with danger every day and I have to be able to focus on my job so I don’t get killed. How am I supposed to be able to do that if I have to worry about you running off and doing hair-brained fucking things like having secret meetings with known terrorists?”

  “It won’t happen again. I swear Michael. I think you can agree that circumstances were special here. It’s not like I run around looking for ways to put myself in danger.”

  A waiter appeared, and they both ordered burgers, fries, and beer.

  “You told me it wasn’t going to happen this time. And you purposely tried to hide what you were doing. That’s not something I can just forget about. Not when your life is on the line. I’m sorry Adara. I just can’t.”

  “So what is this? Are you breaking up with me?”

  “I just think we need to take a step back and evaluate what we want and whether we can do this.”

  She stood, a lone tear trailing down her cheek.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you Michael. I am. But this is bullshit. I’m going home.”

  Guilt stabbed him repeatedly, he was an ass for making her cry so soon after the trauma she had endured.

  “I’m sorry, Angel. I just think we need some space while you recover from what happened. I need time to think.”

  “You don’t get to call me that anymore.” The tears were falling in a steady stream now. “You can have all the time to think you need because I’m out of here. I’ll take an Uber home.”

  The urge to chase her had him standing, but he stopped himself as she walked out the
front door. It was better to let her go and talk again when they both had clearer heads. Right now neither of them was thinking straight. As the front door the restaurant closed, the knife of guilt and regret twisted in his gut once more. He motioned the waiter over and paid the bill for their drinks. By the time he’d signed the receipt, he figured enough time had passed for her to get a car and be on her way.

  He was surprised to find her standing outside the door looking lost.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked cautiously.

  “I need a ride. My phone never was recovered so I can’t call an Uber and I don’t have any cash for a cab.”

  His expression softened, and he offered her his arm.

  “Come on. I’ll drop you off.”

  The ride to Adara’s house was painfully silent. A glance at her at a red light told him she was crying. Should he apologize again? Take it all back? That didn’t seem possible. He still didn’t know how to proceed in a relationship with her.

  “Let’s have dinner next week and talk.”

  “I’ll be busy,” she bit out.

  “Come on Adara. Don’t be like this.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I was kidnapped, nearly killed, and all you can think about is that I didn’t listen to you? I’m a grown fucking woman.”

  He winced at the harsh language. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to talk about this again tonight.

  “You’re right. You are a grown woman. A grown woman who was in a committed relationship A power exchange relationship, no less. And you chose to go behind my back. You chose to go behind the backs of friends who were charged with protecting you. You made it impossible for them to do their jobs. I get it. You wanted to talk to the guy. You were curious. None of that is bad. The part I have a problem with is that you trusted that god damn Homeland agent who clearly does not have your best interests at heart before you trusted me, or Peter, or Bradley for fucks sake.”

  Her tears were falling freely again, but he continued. It was important to get this out.

  “Angel, I’m crazy about you. But I can’t spend my days wondering if you trust me enough. Not when we’re playing with things like power exchange. If I can’t trust you to come to me in a life or death situation, how do I know I’m not going to push you too far because you don’t trust me enough to talk to me about the things we do in the bedroom?”