by Lynn Ames
After several steps, Sage’s mind engaged and she extended her senses. The noises in this place were different. She could hear dozens of voices—some female—and the sound of a child crying in the distance. This might be her last chance to escape.
She tensed the muscles in her arms and gave a hard yank. The unexpected move separated her from her guard. With all of the energy she could muster, Sage ran in the direction of the voices, screaming in French as she did. “Help me. Please, help me!”
She stumbled over something and fell hard, landing awkwardly on her shoulders, chest, and cheek. She shoved herself off the ground with the heels of her hands, and propelled herself forward again. Although she tried, she could not raise her hands high enough to remove the blindfold.
Voices screamed and a shot rang out. Sage kept moving. Please let them miss. More angry voices joined the chorus. Her legs strained against the robe and she stepped on the hem several times. Still, she persevered.
After several more steps, Sage actually began to believe she might get away. Then something solid and hard careened into her from the side, sending her flying. Her left shoulder slammed into the ground, and she screamed in agony. Before she could move again, a breeze ruffled her hair. Someone raising an arm. As soon as the blow struck, everything went black.
Vaughn showed Justine to her bedroom and then headed straight for her laptop. As she had hoped, there were several e-mails from Sabastien. The first was a detailed map outlining the positioning of some fifty Tuareg communities in Mali and neighboring Niger and Burkina Faso. Vaughn connected a tiny portable printer to one of the laptop’s USB ports and printed the file.
The second e-mail contained the three background dossiers Vaughn had requested. She printed them, as well.
“What’re you doing?” Justine peered over Vaughn’s shoulder.
“I got the files from Sabastien.” Vaughn tilted the screen so that Justine could read. “I figured you’d just conk out.”
Justine squeezed Vaughn’s shoulder. “I told you I’m here to help. I know you won’t rest for the night until you’ve examined every available piece of information, so I thought another pair of eyes would make it go quicker.”
“You should sleep.”
“I will if you will.”
Vaughn sighed and patted the spot on the sofa next to her, conceding that this was a battle she was destined to lose. Without further comment, she handed Justine the printout report on Raymond Dumont.
“Your information on him was pretty thorough. I just wanted to see if there were any inconsistencies or additions.”
“Good thinking,” Justine said, accepting the sheaf of papers.
Half an hour later, Vaughn stiffened and sat up straighter.
“What is it?”
“Look at this.” She slid two pictures of Aaron Torgensen toward Justine. One was a current headshot and the other was a casual shot of a much younger Torgensen taken at a campus function. That was the one that caught Vaughn’s attention.
“Okay.” Justine focused on first one, and then the second image.
“Does that man look familiar to you?”
“Should he?”
“If you worked a case with him, he would. He was backup on a job I worked like fifteen years ago. I was never supposed to see him, but something went wrong and he had to break cover.” Vaughn flung open her cell phone and waited for the call to be answered on the other end.
“Oui?”
“Good work, Sabastien. Now I need one more thing.”
“Elliott, can’t a guy get some rest here?”
“Yes. Later. Right now, I want you to get into the Johns Hopkins human resources files. I want you to find Torgensen’s employment application, including fingerprints. Compare them to the Company employee classified files. Also, run a side-by-side comparison of the pictures of Torgensen you sent me and any facial match you find in the Company’s files.”
Sabastien whistled. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”
“I thought you were the best. The best could get this done in a heartbeat.”
“That’s low, Elliott. You know how many firewalls the CIA has on its classified site?”
“No, but I’m sure you do. I’ll be waiting.” Vaughn terminated the call.
“I thought you were certain of Torgensen being CIA? Breaking into the Company’s classified docs is a risk. Why take it?” Justine asked, when Vaughn got off the phone.
“Because I want documentation. IDing Torgensen gives us a big piece of the puzzle.”
“Are you sure of that?”
Vaughn got up and went to the wet bar. “You want something?”
“No, thanks.”
Vaughn poured herself a drink. “If Torgensen is with the Company and I can prove it with documentation, it means Sage was kidnapped by our own people.”
“Maybe. But maybe not.” Justine turned to face Vaughn over the back of the sofa. “What if Torgensen was sent undercover to get her back?”
Vaughn walked around the sofa and sat at the end opposite Justine. “Implausible. If Sage was taken by hostiles, the fastest way to get her back would’ve been to use someone already on the ground.”
“In other words, you.”
“Right.”
“You’re not an insider anymore, Vaughn. Not only that, but you’ve got a pretty important assignment already.”
Vaughn took a sip and let the liquor burn her throat. “Okay. Let’s say you’re right. Then why the song and dance? Surely, there would be no reason to go through this elaborate Johns Hopkins cover story with me?”
“True.”
“Not only that,” Vaughn set the drink on the coffee table, “but if Sage was taken by hostiles, surely it would have huge implications for the upcoming congressional visit. I would have to be brought into the case and briefed, since the safety of the delegation is my responsibility.”
Justine seemed to consider that. “Fair enough.”
“Unless the Company didn’t trust me to get the job done myself and sent Torgensen to back me up.” Vaughn let the quick stab of pain in the center of her chest pass. “After all these years, could they really think so little of me?”
Justine touched her fleetingly on the knee. “No. I don’t believe that. Besides, it doesn’t add up. Security’s not their thing, and why wouldn’t their agent be out looking for Sage as a top priority instead of sticking with you?”
“Because Sage is dispensable to them.” Vaughn picked up the drink and took a healthy slug to take the edge off that truth.
“They can’t be sure of that unless they know for certain who took Sage and why. Otherwise, they can’t accurately assess the threat to the delegation.”
“Who’s to say they don’t know who took her?” Vaughn finished the last of the drink.
“If we haven’t got solid proof yet, neither do they. You started working on the kidnapping before they even could have known about it.” Justine stood up and stretched. “Let’s move on to something you brought up on the phone with me yesterday. Say Torgensen is CIA. Does the ambassador know? If not, what’s the Company’s game? If he does know, again, what’s the end game? And what does your mid-level career diplomat, whose life, by the way, looks remarkably unremarkable on paper, have to do with anything?”
“I don’t know,” Vaughn said in a frustrated whisper, burying her free hand in her hair. “I’ve been over it a thousand times in my mind. Sage didn’t say anything to me that indicated that she thought she was in any danger. There was no political unrest, all of her papers look routine to me, and I don’t know her well enough to tell you if her behavior during the time I was with her was anything out of the ordinary.”
“Maybe you’re the target. That could be where Fairhaven fits in. What if he knows you’re still looking into Sara’s death?”
“I’ve been thinking about that since you told me about the Fairhaven connection. If the Company wanted me dead, why wait until now? I’ve been a sitting duck behind a desk fo
r a year. Not only that, but they had a week in the clinic when I was recovering from my injuries.”
“If you got killed right after Sara, it would’ve been too suspicious. They needed to let the heat die down.”
“Even so, as you said, what does Sage have to do with it? Why take her?”
“It was their excuse to bring in someone to replace her, to get Torgensen, or whoever he is, close to you.”
Vaughn tapped the empty glass against her chin. “Maybe, but I don’t think they’d risk the safety of the majority leader just to take me out of the picture. That would be incredibly irresponsible, even for the Company. They’d wait until it was over. And, let’s face it, they wouldn’t need to get that close to me—not as close as Torgensen is. Anyway, why not just take me instead of Sage? Why bother with the extra step? It would’ve been easier to replace me than to replace Sage this close to the visit. Seems too far-fetched to me.”
Vaughn’s cell vibrated on the coffee table and she snatched it up. “Yes?”
“Elliott?”
“You’ve got the fingerprint match?”
“Never mind that. We’ve got bigger problems.”
“Spill it, Sabastien.”
“They had a blind monitor on the Sage McNally file I sent you.”
“Slow down and speak English.”
“They put a trap on it. They know the file’s been pulled and they know it’s been sent to you.”
“How?”
“I haven’t figured it all out yet. I just know they’re wise to you. You’re on their team, why should they be watching your e-mail?”
“You didn’t know I left the Company?”
“You—what the hell, Elliott. When were you going to tell me?”
Vaughn ignored the question. “This changes the ballgame. If you were deliberately kept in the dark about my status, it means you were a pawn to keep an eye on me. You’ve been compromised, my friend. We need to get you out of there.”
“They can’t trace the McNally file to me. I used a loop.”
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll know you did it because I’m the one who ended up with the goods. Sabastien, you need to go to a secure location. Now. I’ll call you later.”
“But—”
“There’s no time. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have involved you if I’d known.”
“That’s okay. This gig was getting kind of boring anyway.”
“Be safe. I’ll call you as soon as I can. Take your equipment with you, if you can. I’ll see if I can keep your life a little more interesting than the Company did.”
“Sure thing, Elliott.”
“Hey, Sabastien?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you tell how long ago they made the trace to me?”
“I had set up an alarm. Just in case, you know? So I called you as soon as they tripped the alarm.”
“Good. That ought to give me a few minutes head start.” Vaughn thought for a moment. “Would they know they tripped an alarm?”
“What kind of amateur do you take me for? Of course not.”
“Thanks.”
Vaughn looked at Justine as she closed the phone. “Glad you didn’t unpack. We’ve been made. We’ve got to get out of here. Get your stuff.”
“Well, that confirms that Torgensen is CIA, anyway.”
“Yes, and he’s probably scouring the hotel for me right now. Let’s move. We’ll talk through it in the car.”
Within five minutes, they were packed and headed down a back stairwell. Once they’d reached the safety of Sage’s car, Vaughn called Jackson.
“How quickly can you get us out of the country?”
“We can leave right away.”
“Good. Get ready to move. We’ll be at Jacque’s house in ten minutes. He’ll have to hide my car.”
“It is not a problem. I will be waiting for you.”
CHAPTER TEN
“We have a problem that requires an immediate solution. This will complicate things significantly. Where are you right now?”
“I’m in the hotel.” Torgensen hadn’t thought he would hear from Washington again so soon. He pulled on a pair of jeans as he cradled the cell phone between his cheek and his shoulder.
“Good. Elliott has accessed Dr. McNally’s background information. Most likely that means she knows that the girl has been taken—she’s trying to find clues that might aid in a search.”
“If Elliott is looking for McNally, it means nothing of value has been compromised yet. She was a top agent. If she had the information, she’d be acting on it, not looking for the girl.” Torgensen checked the magazine clip in his Sig Sauer.
“You don’t know Elliott. She has a soft spot for damsels in distress.”
There was a pause on the line. Torgensen waited patiently.
“Still, I believe you are correct to assume that Elliott doesn’t know anything…yet. We need to keep it that way.”
“You want a permanent solution?”
“Yes. But it has to appear to be self-inflicted. Perhaps a booze-fueled moment of self-pity over her reassignment to something unworthy of her years of experience.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I want to know as soon as it’s done. Torgensen?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t underestimate Elliott. That would be very foolish. She is extremely sharp and capable.”
Torgensen smiled wolfishly. “I hope so. I’m looking forward to the challenge.” He hung up the phone, finished dressing, and checked his weapon and ammunition one more time.
When he was satisfied, Torgensen picked up the room phone and dialed the front desk. “Hello? Yes, I wonder if you could help me. I met this really nice woman and I was supposed to meet her in her room for drinks, but I lost the piece of paper she gave me with her room number on it. I was hoping you could tell me where to find her.”
Jackson navigated the streets of Bamako in a Toyota 4x4. Justine sat in the front passenger seat, and Vaughn half sat half knelt out of sight behind the seats. She would stay like that until they got out of town.
Their escape from the hotel had been a close thing. Although it wasn’t truly necessary, Vaughn wanted confirmation that Torgensen was, indeed, coming for her. She watched through a pair of binoculars from the driver’s seat of Sage’s car, parked a safe distance away, as Torgensen flew down the outdoor stairwell of the hotel. The butt of his pistol was visible in the waistband of his jeans.
She waited for him to give up the search and re-enter the hotel before she started the car and drove away. She and Justine had been silent on the drive to Jacques’ house.
Now, as they bounced along the quiet streets in the middle of the night, it was time to determine a course of action. “How many hours will it take us to cross into Burkina Faso?” she asked Jackson.
“The rest of the night, at least.” After a beat, he asked, “Are you sure that is where you want to go? I can offer you some protection once you are in my jurisdiction, to be sure, but I wonder why you would want to go there, rather than someplace where you would be less…conspicuous.”
“Because I can continue to search for Sage from your side of the border in relative safety. These people don’t know about you, my man, and they would never expect me to go across the border. They’d assume either I would stay somewhere in Mali or I would go back to the States.”
“Vaughn,” Justine said, “Jackson and I can continue to search for Sage. You should disappear.”
“No.”
“Vaughn—”
“No, Justine. I won’t sit on the sidelines while Sage is in danger.”
“You’re in just as much danger.”
“I can take care of myself. I’m a trained professional. She’s just…” Vaughn’s voice trailed off. She cleared her throat. “Sabastien clearly said that it was Sage’s files that were tagged.”
When neither Jackson nor Justine said anything, Vaughn said, “Don’t you see? They weren’t worried about me. Sage was th
e target. They wanted to know if anyone was looking for her.”
Justine nodded. “And now they’re hunting you.”
“Because they know I’m looking for Sage.” Vaughn closed her eyes and prayed for patience. “They wouldn’t care about me except for the fact that I’m poking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“Then what was Torgensen’s role? They already had Sage.”
“Maybe they were hedging their bets, in case I got too curious.”
“Possibly,” Justine conceded, “but something still feels off.”
“It doesn’t matter. The bottom line is that Sage was the primary target.”
“What I can’t figure out,” Jackson interjected, “is why?”
It was a question Vaughn had been asking herself for hours. “I don’t know, and as far as I can tell, there’s only one way to find out.”
“Rescue Sage,” Justine said.
“Yes. Rescue Sage,” Vaughn agreed.
Sage cracked first one eye open, and then the other. The pressure from the blindfold was gone, and yet she was still in complete darkness. Her head throbbed painfully; her brain felt as though it were rattling around in her skull. As her eyes adjusted to the surroundings, she could see that her hands were cuffed via a short chain to an iron ring built into a concrete wall. Her left shoulder was on fire. Although she couldn’t be sure, she thought it might be dislocated. She’d seen in a movie once where someone had popped a shoulder back in by bashing it into a wall. The idea made her sick to her stomach.
She struggled into a sitting position, shocked to discover that the floor appeared to be made of concrete, as well. Concrete in the desert? You’re dreaming.
Since Sage had no concept of time, it was impossible to know how far they might have traveled from the place where she had tried to escape. Maybe they weren’t in the desert anymore.
Another look around told Sage that she was in a room roughly the size of a large shed. In fact, there were empty storage shelves on the opposite wall. Where the heck am I? She closed her eyes. The iron ring in the wall, the removal of the blindfold…wherever she was, it appeared that she was going to be staying for a while. She wasn’t sure whether that was good news or not.
