by Debra Webb
She saw no monitors displaying scenes or spaces like the room she had been in. One computer screen displayed a map. Making out the details of the map was impossible from where she sat. The other computer screen was also a map, this one constantly moving like a weather map.
How were these dimwits monitoring the cameras in the rooms? Then she knew. Unless these guys carried some sort of personal, handheld monitoring systems, the cameras were nothing more than inoperable visual deterrents.
She couldn’t be absolutely certain but it was a strong possibility. Good to know in the event she survived the next few minutes. Testing her theory wouldn’t be that difficult.
Lane finished his call and strode over to where she and her would-be interrogator waited.
“She says there’s three times what’s in the briefcase at her husband’s office in a safe.”
Lane eyed her speculatively. “I don’t believe you and your husband are who you say you are. Why would I believe this?”
Von remembered to look and sound afraid. “We just want a little girl. We have some very important business to take care of in Texas. It’s about money. And…” She looked away. “I want a child.”
Lane snickered. “You really expect me to believe that if we let you go right now, with a kid to call your own, that you’ll forget this whole thing happened?”
Von blinked several times for effect. “My husband will lose his inheritance if we don’t show.” Before Lane could interrupt, she added, “Two million dollars.”
Now both bastards appeared interested.
“Tax free,” she went on, “But there has to be an heir for him to collect. It’s one of his crazy grandfather’s stipulations. He has to be married and have an heir. We’ve been traveling extensively the past few years. We haven’t been home. Mainly because my husband and his father had a falling out. Anyway, we claimed there was a child. A little girl. We’ve never sent pictures. Never really talked about her. The estrangement made it easy to pull off.” She leveled her gaze on Lane’s. “But that’s all changed now. His grandfather is dying. We have to have that little girl.”
Lane continued to analyze her a few moments more, then he said to his pal, “Bring the husband to me.”
Von hoped she had bought them some time.
The man returned with Trinity whose hands and mouth were still secured with the tape.
“You and I,” Lane announced, “are going to pick up something from your safe at home.” He gestured to Von. “Your lovely wife will wait here for our return. Need I remind you that her continued well-being will be solely dependent upon your complete cooperation and satisfying results?”
Lane ripped the tape from Trinity’s mouth and stuck it to his shirtfront. Unlike Von, Trinity didn’t wince. He glared at the man.
“What did you do?” Trinity demanded of Von as if furious with her.
Although they had a cover and had gone over the details she had just passed along to Lane, confirmation was necessary.
“I told them about the money in the safe,” she explained. “And—” she swallowed as if nervous “—exactly what’s at stake.”
Trinity shook his head, then arrowed a furious gaze at Lane. “We had a deal. You reneged on that deal. And now you want more money?”
Lane shrugged. “Only if you want your wife to remain breathing. We’ll get the money, return here, and you and your wife will be free to go.”
“What about the child?” Von demanded. “The little girl?”
Lane gave another of those nonchalant shrugs. “You can have her.” He smiled at Von, then at Trinity. “We had a deal, after all.”
He was lying. She and Trinity would be dead as soon as the possibility of making any more money was off the table. This bastard had never intended to do business with them. Simon’s contact didn’t know this guy nearly as well as he’d thought.
“Mr. Barton and I will be back,” Lane said to the others in the room. “Be prepared to move out as scheduled.” He gestured for the man who’d driven them here to follow him.
Trinity glanced back at her as Lane ushered him toward the door.
He was worried.
Von couldn’t say she wasn’t.
But at least one of them was out of here.
Trinity would take care of Lane and his henchman. She’d just given Trinity his ticket out of here.
Von surveyed the room and the five other men milling around. All she had to do was create her own exodus, though there wasn’t a single window and the only exterior door she’d confirmed was the one they had entered. There would be a way. All she had to do was find it and then she was out of here.
But not until she knew who or what was in those other rooms.
If there was even one child in this building, she wasn’t leaving without him or her.
What she needed was an opportunity.
She couldn’t wait for opportunity to knock.
“Excuse me,” she announced to the room at large, “I need to use the restroom.”
It was a ploy as old as time, but it was a tried-and-true one.
One of the men glanced at the escort who’d brought her here. “You take care of her. We have final preparations to make.”
She was hoisted up and dragged to one of the doors at the back of the room, the second from the left. The goon opened the door and gestured for her to go in.
It was a bathroom, two stalls, one sink.
She turned her back to the guy and wiggled her hands. “You’ll have to cut me loose.”
With a heavy sigh, he cut her hands loose and then pushed her toward the door. “Make it fast.”
Von shut the door in his face and quickly did her business. The request had been a ploy, but she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to relieve herself. Before flushing the toilet, she pressed her ear to the wall that separated this room from the first room. She closed her eyes and listened hard.
Nothing.
Wait…a whimper?
Then she heard it clearly.
Crying.
Whoever was in the first room from the left was crying.
Sounded like a child.
Fury whipped through Von.
That solidified her determination. She wasn’t leaving here without the child…or children.
Chapter Nine
Colby Agency, 11:50 p.m. (10 hours missing)
“There must be security or traffic cameras somewhere in the nearby vicinity,” Jim argued with Simon’s Bureau contact who was present via the teleconferencing system. “St. Patrick’s is barely outside the downtown business district.”
Simon and Victoria sat at the conference table in her office. But Jim couldn’t sit. Von and Trinity were out there…somewhere. Their sedan had been found on Adams Street near St. Patrick’s church. At the rendezvous location. Jim and Simon had been a mere two blocks away. The moment communications were severed they had moved to the rendezvous location.
Only to find an empty sedan, front doors standing open.
The last verbal exchange captured by the communications link was of Von demanding to know where they were going.
Jim and Simon had determined that the vehicle to which Von and Trinity were transferred had been equipped with jamming devices, disabling the communications link as well as the tracking devices in the briefcase as soon as the doors were closed.
Damn it!
Simon had touched base with his contact for any additional information and support. At this point their only hope was to pick up via security or traffic cams the gray sedan leaving the area of the church.
It was a long shot, but it was the only one they had.
George White, Simon’s contact, had been more than patient. Jim recognized that he had about half an hour ago crossed the line of reason.
“There are a number of cameras in the downtown area,” White agreed, “but no silver or grayish sedan was picked on any of them between the time you heard the exchange and you arrived to discover your investigators’ deserted v
ehicle. These men were obviously versed in the streets and blocks to avoid.”
The telephone on Victoria’s desk buzzed. She hurried to answer it.
“White, this contact of yours can’t be pressured into revealing any details he perhaps has held back regarding this Lane character?”
“He insists he knows nothing more,” White explained via the speakers of the conference table’s teleconferencing system. “He can’t name Lane’s buyers or his contacts in the trafficking world. Lane once worked in the drug smuggling business with my contact. He moved on, it seems, to a different kind of cargo. My investigation into this human trafficking network is just getting its legs. We have a long ways to go.”
Jim shook his head. This was getting them nowhere.
“Mr. White.” Victoria had returned to the head of the conference table. “Please let us know if you learn anything at all that might be useful to our investigation. We appreciate your assistance.”
White assured Victoria that he would and the call ended.
“What’s going on?” Jim asked his mother. White was the only contact to Lane they had. Cutting off communications with him for the moment had to mean there had been a significant development.
“That was security,” Victoria said, her voice quivering just a bit. “Trinity Barrett is on his way up in the elevator.”
Jim didn’t bother asking how that was possible. Victoria, Simon and he rushed into the corridor and on to the reception area to await the elevator’s arrival.
A soft chime announced the car’s stop on their floor, then the doors slid apart.
Trinity stepped forward. “I don’t have much time.”
Chapter Ten
“Lane and one of his men are waiting in the car in the alley less than a block from here,” Trinity explained. He hated this part. He needed to get what he’d come for and get out of here…get back to Von. “I have five minutes to exit the building.”
“Where is Von?” Jim Colby demanded.
Trinity swiped a hand over his face. He felt numb. Leaving her had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. “She’s at the transfer facility—or what appears to be a transfer facility. She’s okay for now. The facility is about thirty minutes south of the city. We didn’t take 94 and I’m not completely certain I can find my way back. The dark window tinting prevented me from monitoring the road signs. I’ll need Lane to get me there.”
“Why did he bring you here?” Simon asked.
“Money,” Trinity said flatly. “To buy time, Von told them that we had more money at my office. I think she’s attempting to persuade Lane that our quest to get a child is real and that we don’t care how much it costs or what they’re doing.”
“You understand,” Victoria said in that calm tone that spoke of unending strength and hard-earned wisdom, “that you’re beyond that point now. Whatever else you and Von do, this man intends to kill you both.”
Trinity nodded. “I know. Right now I need weapons I can conceal from these bastards and I need money.” He reached inside his jacket and peeled the duct tape off his shirt. “This has Lane’s prints on it.”
Simon carefully accepted the tape. “I’ll bag this and have it processed.”
“I’ll take care of the weapons,” Jim said. “Come with me.”
Victoria nodded. “Simon and I will prepare the money for transport.”
Trinity inhaled his first deep breath since leaving Von in the hands of those bastards. He followed Jim down the corridor to the supply room. Trinity had no idea how much money the agency kept in the safe, but it would have to do.
Jim pressed his thumb to the scanner on the massive walk-in safe that was the arms room and then entered the pass code. The door opened and he and Trinity entered.
The arms room was a new addition to the Colby Agency offices. It had been added in the rebuild after the original offices were destroyed a few years back. In Victoria’s office, a smaller version was camouflaged behind a paneled wall. Money and other negotiable assets were kept there. Swift and decisive action was only accomplished when fully prepared for most any scenario.
“Not even the smallest handgun we have will work,” Jim said as he surveyed the offerings.
“I’m well versed in the use of knives,” Trinity reminded him.
Jim selected a lightweight but lethal-looking switchblade. He passed it to Trinity. “Open the lining of your interior jacket pocket and drop the knife into the bulk between the lining and the leather.”
Trinity used the knife to slit the pocket’s lining, then carefully burrowed the knife in the material inside. “Done.”
Jim gestured to Trinity’s left wrist. “Take off your watch.”
Trinity removed the watch and accepted the one Jim handed him.
Jim tapped the crystal face of the watch. “Crush it against your opponent’s throat. A small dose of tranquilizer will be injected into the skin when the crystal breaks. He’ll be out for the better part of an hour.”
With the watch on his wrist, Trinity waited for the next tool.
A silver pen. “Press the top down as if you’re preparing to use the pen for writing, then jab it into your opponent. This tranquilizer will put an elephant down.”
“That’ll work.” Trinity placed the pen in his right jacket side pocket.
“Let’s see if Simon and Victoria have the money ready to go.”
They moved back toward Victoria’s office, but Trinity hesitated before entering. “I told Lane my office was on the third floor. He can’t see the front of the building from the alley, but I don’t want to risk that he or his pal might be watching from another vantage point.” A large wall of windows in Victoria’s office overlooked the street. With the lights on, movement could be spotted from the street.
“Of course.” Jim went to the door and asked his mother and Simon to join them in the corridor.
“There’s one hundred thousand in here,” Simon confirmed as he passed the portfolio type case to Trinity. “That’s all we have readily available.”
It wouldn’t be enough, but it could work until he had subdued the enemy. He grasped the leather handle of the case in his right hand.
“Negotiate,” Jim suggested. “Tell Lane you’ll give him more once Von and the child he promised are with you and safely away from the place you were held.” Jim handed him a tiny round disk. “Place this anywhere on the exterior of the car, it’s magnetic, and we’ll be able to track you. We couldn’t track you before because there appeared to be a jamming device in the sedan that transported you from Adams Street to the transfer facility. Putting this one outside should alleviate that concern.”
Trinity had presumed as much. He kept the small disk in his left hand. “Lane is smart,” Trinity related. “Don’t get too close.” And that was assuming Trinity got the opportunity to place the device at all. “If I make any calls or summon help in any detectable manner, Von dies.”
“There are security cameras all along the Mag Mile,” Simon advised. “Whatever happens with the tracking device, we can capture your movements for some distance in that manner.”
Victoria followed Trinity back to the elevator while Jim and Simon hurried down the stairwell to reach the basement garage and their vehicle in hopes of tracking Trinity’s departure with Lane.
“Be careful,” Victoria urged.
Trinity nodded then pressed the button for the lobby.
Her worried gaze remained on him until he was in the elevator and the doors slid closed.
Trinity squeezed his eyes shut as the car moved downward. He sent a silent plea heavenward that he could do whatever necessary to ensure Von’s safety.
She had given him this shot at freedom. He had to make it count.
“Night, Mr. Barrett,” the security guard called to his back as Trinity hurried across the lobby.
Trinity hesitated, then walked back to the security desk. He reached across the desk and tapped the notepad on the counter. “Make a note that I won’t be in the
rest of the week,” he said. “In case anyone asks.”
The bewildered guard nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” Trinity turned and headed for the exit. Inside, where the security guard couldn’t see, he was shaking.
He couldn’t let Von down.
Once before he’d done that and he’d lost her.
He couldn’t let that happen again. Losing her had been bad enough, but letting her die…no way.
AS HE’D SUSPECTED Lane met him on the sidewalk before Trinity reached the alley.
“I thought you said your office was on the third floor. I didn’t see any lights go on.”
“My office is an interior one,” Trinity explained.
“You wouldn’t have seen the light. I didn’t bother turning one on in the reception area.”
“What’s on the fourth floor?” Lane asked, suspicious as usual.
“More offices,” Trinity said, allowing his frustration and impatience to show. “Accounting, I believe. But I’ve never been up there so I really don’t know.”
“Their lights were on,” Lane countered. “I saw at least one person pass a window up there.”
“It’s almost the end of the year,” Trinity tossed back at him. “They’re likely preparing for tax season. Who knows?”
That seemed to satisfy Lane for the moment. “Give me the bag.”
Trinity passed him the portfolio. Its weight made the bastard smile.
“You know the way,” Lane said, gesturing for him to go first.
When they reached the alley, the sedan’s engine revved to life but the headlights remained dark.
“Let’s see what’s in the case,” Lane suggested. He motioned to his colleague who got out of the vehicle. “Pat him down,” Lane ordered his driver.
Trinity held his hands away from his sides to facilitate the man’s pat down, then held his breath, again praying that the guy wouldn’t find the knife or the pen. He would need both when the time came.
Lane placed the case on the hood of the car and opened it. It wouldn’t take him long to see that there was only a hundred thou inside.
