The Hostage

by Saul, Jonas

  “Are you okay? How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I’m good. They’re gone and you’re here, so yeah, I’m good.”

  “We have to get you to that ambulance. Those paramedics can help—”

  “No,” he cut her off. “Just get me out of here. Take me to the Trillium Health Center. It’s on the West Mall. I’ll show you. I just need to get out of here. Who knows who’ll pop up next with a gun and a desire to murder us?”

  She looked at him for a second longer and then nodded. “You got it. Get in.”

  Sarah helped him to the passenger side and after he was settled in, she ran around to the driver’s side of Ferenci’s car, jumped in and edged out into traffic.

  Drake grabbed a blanket from the backseat and covered his blood-covered jeans, then lay his head back and closed his eyes.

  “You know, Sarah,” he said. “You’ve saved my life twice now. That means I’m yours forever. I owe you my life. I know this may sound corny, but seriously, I’d be dead without you. I don’t have a death wish, but I know now that I will die in your place if it ever comes down to it.”

  Sarah didn’t respond. She couldn’t. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her before. No one had ever said they would die for her, and she believed him.

  The traffic slowed. Up ahead, four police cruisers blocked the road, leaving a narrow path where vehicles were allowed to go through once they were cleared.

  There were two cars left and then an officer would ask questions neither one of them would be able to answer. She didn’t know where the papers were. For all she knew, Ferenci could’ve stolen the car and now she was driving it after stealing it from him.

  Fuck. Now what?

  “Don’t panic,” she said. “We’ll get through this. Follow my lead. And remember, we’ve done nothing wrong. I’m just getting us out of the area before someone picks us off.”

  A Toronto police officer walked up to her window and asked her to roll it down.

  “Evening officer,” Sarah said, a wide, innocent smile creasing her face. “What seems to be the trouble?”

  “Where are you two headed?” he asked as he looked in at Drake.

  “To our uncle’s place for dinner.”

  “Really? Were you anywhere near the explosion on Queen Street?”

  “There was an explosion on Queen Street? Wow … what blew up?” Sarah asked in her most dumb-blonde voice. She wondered if she poured it on too thick as her voice squeaked with the higher pitch.

  The officer eyed her too long. He looked in at Drake again. “You okay over there? You look a little pale.”

  Drake nodded. “Yeah, just seriously hungry and her uncle cooks up a mean lasagna.”

  The cop looked at Sarah and pointed at Drake. “He your boyfriend?”

  Sarah glanced at Drake and then said, “Yes.”

  What the fuck? Too soon. It came out too quick. Shit, what will Drake think now?

  “Okay,” the officer said and stood to his full height. He adjusted his belt and stared at Sarah with what she thought was anger.

  He’s going to fucking call us on our bullshit.

  “A moment ago, you said our uncle and then your boyfriend said your uncle. So which is it, because I’m starting to wonder about you two.”

  Now what?

  Another cop walked up behind the one talking to them. “Everything okay here, Officer Jones?”

  He turned around, “Yeah, I got this. Just give me another second.”

  “Okay, I’m going to make you pull over there so I can grill you and take you downtown and make things very difficult for as long as I can because I’m an asshole like that, and because I think you’re lying to me. But if you’re both just running away from mommy and you’re wasting my time by lying to me, then I need you out of my face. So here’s how it’s going to go.” He bent and placed his forearm along the door getting his face low enough to look in at Drake too. “Tell me the name of your uncle at the same time at the count of three. If you can do that, I’ll assume the story isn’t made up and you’re on the level. Deal?”

  Sarah nodded, gritting her teeth.

  He lifted his sleeve to look at his watch. “One. Two. Three.”

  Please, say the same one as me.

  “Uncle Rod,” they both said in perfect harmony.

  The officer stood to his full height and knocked on the roof of their car to motion them through.

  Sarah drove between the two cruisers and onto open road. They looked at each other and started breathing again.

  They’d made it. Her heart beat in anticipation of what her life was about to become. They’d made it. They were out. But now she seemed even more afraid because of the man in the seat beside her. He could hurt her more than the bullets, bruises and fights she’d endured over the last five years.

  Drake had a weapon that cut her on the inside.

  If they began a relationship, she’d voluntarily walk into it and willingly make herself a target. That was something altogether foreign for her. She had no idea what to do.

  Her hands shook on the wheel of Ferenci’s car. She wondered if Drake would notice. Her face felt flush.

  What the hell is wrong with me? Do I or don’t I? Would I or won’t I?

  But she had no choice now.

  “That was close,” Drake said.

  “Very,” Sarah said.

  She focused on her driving as the afternoon sun beat down on the windshield.

  Chapter 37

  One Month Later…

  The waiter directed them to a quiet table by an old train car near the center of the restaurant. Sarah gawked at the sight of the train car, having come to love the uniqueness of Toronto.

  Sarah pulled out her own chair and sat. It had been a month since Ferenci had tried to kill Drake at the baseball game. In that time she had set a few rules down for the romantic Drake. One of those had been that she would pull out all her own chairs. Wooing was nice, even pleasant at times, but she needed to go slow as a relationship violated her independence to the core. She told him she was willing to try, but it had to be friends first — spend time together — get to know one another. Then work from there.

  Every event wasn’t a date and every date wasn’t an invitation or an expectation.

  Drake had agreed without pause.

  He sat across from her and smiled. “I just can’t believe it,” he said. “It’s finally over. Ferenci is dead. His hired muscle is in jail and Elmore is dead. I don’t know how we did it, but we’re the ones walking away.” He looked into her eyes. “Sometimes, I still can’t believe it. I never thought I would be happy that another human being was dead, but some people don’t deserve life.”

  “They might want to think about banning police scanners too. I mean, Ferenci heard the call for all officers to respond to Elmore’s studio and beat the cops there by five full minutes. Because of that scanner, you could have been killed before anyone got there.”

  Drake picked up the menu. “I know. I shudder when I think about it. When Ferenci opened Elmore’s trunk, I thought he’d shoot me on the spot. Using those fake cops to get to you almost worked.”

  Sarah looked at the name on the menu. “The Old Spaghetti Factory. What made you pick this place for dinner? Is it good?”

  “Sure. It’s one of the best in Toronto. Anyone who has been in this city for more than a decade has come here at least once.” Drake dropped his menu back to the table. “Sarah, what do you think of Toronto so far?”

  Sarah smiled and set her menu down too. “It’s been amazing. I’ve never been this free. I’m finally, completely free. No one is stalking me or hunting me down. After what Rod did for me, I’m eternally grateful.”

  She picked her menu up again and browsed the wine list while she thought about Rod. He’d gotten out of the hospital two weeks ago and headed back to the states alone, ready to retire from the Sophia Project. Sarah could have run from Elmore’s basement and left him to die. Instead, she had
brought help in time to save his life. For that he’d told her that he would take her file and report it as unfounded. Sarah Roberts had no special abilities, he would say. As far as he was concerned, his agency would have no further interest in her. She could be free to do whatever she wanted without worry of their group anymore. Although she remembered his one caution: keep under the radar.

  The waiter set fresh bread on their table. Sarah breathed in deeply as the smell wafted up. She ordered an Australian red and Drake chose a domestic beer.

  She admired his ability to ignore his wounds. He’d healed quickly with an attitude that any physiologist would love. He repeatedly said his muscles would learn. Even though they ached and he limped, he refused to use a crutch of any kind. He’d walk on the bad leg until it learned to right itself. Sounded a little foolish to her at first, but he was coming along great, barely limping at all.

  Parkman had flown back to his job as his leave of absence had ended. She missed him, but knew they’d see each other again soon. She wanted to take Drake to the states to meet Esmerelda and her daughter, Denise. She couldn’t take Drake all that way and not meet Dolan too. Whether she let Drake meet her parents or not was something she’d have to consider. How serious were they or how serious were they going to be?

  “Tell me more about Vivian. When was the last time she got in touch?”

  Sarah adjusted in her chair. “I miss hearing from her. She sent me a message a week ago apologizing for not helping more with Elmore. She had decided to stop with the messages as Armond had been dealt with and so had Ferenci. She felt she had put me in harm’s way too often. It’s all over, she claimed. I have tried to talk to her numerous times, but I still haven’t gotten a reply.”

  “Tell me about Esmerelda and Dolan,” Drake said.

  The waiter showed up with their drinks. Sarah sniffed her wine, spun it in the glass and then sipped. After another sip, she set it down.

  “She’s a lovely woman. She lives with her daughter now. You’ll meet them one day.”

  “How do you know her and Dolan?”

  “Long story. Order me another glass of wine and I’ll tell you all about it. Our trip to the states will be great.” She took another sip. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this free.”

  Sarah leaned to look past Drake toward a commotion at the front of the restaurant. He turned in his chair.

  A group of men in business suits argued with their waiter. Sarah watched as one of the men pushed the waiter aside and stepped farther into the restaurant.

  Her stomach lurched. She hadn’t been without trouble for this long and wondered for weeks if trouble would find her again. The man looked ex-military with his buzz cut hair and his hard, chiseled features. The men behind him watched his every move and waited for an order.

  She picked up her wine glass and sipped from it.

  “That’s fuckin’ rude,” Drake said as he turned back in his seat.

  Drake grabbed the bread and broke a piece off.

  The men spread into the restaurant in a search-grid formation. It was evident to Sarah that they were looking for someone.

  As the leader looked at the face of a girl six tables over, Sarah detected the butt of a weapon protruding through the fabric of the man’s jacket.

  “Drake, they’re packing. This may not be cool. Be ready.”

  He stopped buttering his bread and stared at her. “You’re kidding, right? Who could it be? We were cleared on everything. Spencer backed us up along with Rod on the entire story. We were the victims—”

  “Shhh, they’re coming our way.”

  The leader stepped behind Drake and stared at Sarah. Then he whistled with his fingers like he was playing Frisbee in a park with no regard for the fact that he was in a classy restaurant. All of his men turned and started toward them.

  “Sarah Roberts?”

  She took another sip of her wine and set the glass down, her stomach in knots.

  What now?

  “That depends,” she said.

  The man raised his eyebrows. “On what?” he asked.

  “Who you are.” She wrapped her hand around the butter knife on her side of the table. “I can be Sarah Roberts for the right price, but I can also be Maggie May. Does that sound right, Mr. Stewart?”

  “Your reference to Rod is spot on. How could you tell we were agency men?” He waited for her to respond. “My name is Hank Frommer. I’m the new main man for the Sophia Project now that Rod has retired.”

  “Never heard of it,” Sarah said as she took a larger sip of wine.

  Shit, fuck!

  The men circled the table. It couldn’t be. Rod had said she was covered. It would never come back to haunt her unless she became too public. Vivian had stopped sending her messages. She’d gone on no expeditions of any kind in Toronto.

  “You’ll have to come with us. There’s been a problem. We need to clear it up.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.” Then she thought for a second and asked, “What kind of problem?”

  “I don’t think you understand. Rod Howley filed a report clearing you of all suspicion of any psychic ability. I know he lied. You have no choice but to come with me. Stand up and come willingly. I want this to be a pleasant experience for all of us. Otherwise, we will take you by force.” He swept his arms out at his men like he was displaying a prize on the Price Is Right. “I know you’re unarmed except for that butter knife. If you decide to use that knife, I will have you incarcerated for many years for assault on a Federal Officer. That will give us plenty of time to get to know one another.” He stepped closer and put his hand out. “Stand up now. You are coming with us as you are officially property of the United States of America.”

  Sarah felt everyone in the restaurant watching the action unfold. Their waiter stood fifteen feet behind Hank. The tension around them seemed to increase by the second as everyone waited to see what Sarah would do.

  Drake winked at her.

  It broke her concentration. In his wink, she read, I got this.

  She nodded ever so slightly and let go of the butter knife. She moved her chair back and grabbed her wine for one more sip. Then she stood and scanned the faces of the men surrounding her.

  She addressed Drake. “I’m sorry our dinner was so rudely interrupted. I recommend we reschedule.”

  Drake pushed his chair out and stood with his beer in his hand. Hank’s men closed in on Drake as a warning.

  “It’s okay, dear. How about tomorrow? We’ll find a location where these men can’t harass us. Sound good?”

  “Lovely. It’s a date then.”

  Drake spun on his heels, beer bottle held high. In that second, Sarah tossed her wine in Hank’s face. Drake’s beer bottle broke on the first guy’s face and cut into the faces of the two men beside him.

  Sarah dodged Hank’s grasp, grabbed the knife and jammed it into the thigh of the man beside her. He shouted and dropped to the carpeted floor. She grabbed the top of her chair and swung it hard and fast at Hank who at that same moment stepped toward her. The chair broke across his chest and jaw, and he staggered back.

  She bolted for the rear of the restaurant, surprisingly, with Hank on her heels. She hit the kitchen door and kept running, knowing Hank would be close behind.

  In the alley at the back of the restaurant, she ran into the dark Toronto night.

  Hank wouldn’t fire on her to kill her.

  She had no idea where she was going or what she’d do. Normally she’d find a bus or a train and escape Toronto, but because of Drake, she couldn’t.

  She had to go back and see what was happening to him, but she couldn’t do that either. He’d be angry that they wasted their efforts at escape only for her to come back.

  It was time to talk to Vivian. It was time to set things right. Sarah’s life needed a save now so she could have one. A happy one.

  Vivian owed her. Vivian owed her Drake. She owed her peace, but most of all, Vivian needed to save Sarah’s l
ife as Sarah had made things right for Vivian.

  And she knew exactly how to get Vivian to talk.

  Sarah turned around and started back toward the restaurant and Hank Frommer.

  It was time to stop the insanity and she intended to show the American government everything she was.

  How powerful she could be.

  It was time for the world to see Sarah Roberts and for Sarah Roberts to see the world.