The TAKEN! Series - Books 13-16 (Taken! Box Set Book 4)

by Remington Kane

  The recent news stories about Numerical’s devastating and deadly escape from an FBI trap only made him want the bastard more, but, Jessica was adamant in her desire to stay out of the fray, and whenever he looked at his children, he knew that the decision made sense.

  His head understood the reasoning and logic of stepping back, but his heart ached to join in the pursuit of Numerical, and he would have liked nothing better than to find the man and end him.

  He might currently have an invalid’s body, but he would always possess a predator’s soul. Whenever the green-hued images of Numerical were shown on TV, images taken by FBI night-vision cameras, he would study the man’s gait, try to memorize the face seen only in shadow, and secretly wish that someday it would be his hand that delivered Numerical’s reckoning.

  Still, he had agreed to step down, to let the world go its own way, and he would do so, although he suspected that the respite would be short-lived.

  He knew his wife nearly as well as he knew himself, and although she didn’t have his innate lust for battle, she still had the heart of a fighter, the mind of a detective, and while she never blatantly displayed it, Jessica also had an ego where her professional reputation was concerned. She loved being recognized as an ace criminal profiler, as a miracle worker, and in time, he felt she would once again need to solve and conquer a mystery.

  At least, he hoped she would, and was counting on it, because if he had to spend the rest of his days merely puttering about like a gelded horse, he suspected it would drive him insane.

  ***

  Dallas, Texas,

  Numerical stalked Cassandra even as she stalked someone else.

  He had known of the motel room Cassandra rented near Daytona Beach, after having previously followed her sister there, and arrived just as she was loading her things into her car.

  While she was inside talking to the motel manager, Numerical had planted a tracking device to the bottom of her rental, and had been following her ever since.

  As for her sister, Emily, she was nowhere to be found, and he assumed that the FBI had relocated her, or possibly even placed her in a Witness Protection program.

  No matter, Emily was off his list of victims and he now thought only of her sister, for Cassandra proved to be far more fascinating.

  In the short time he’d been stalking her, she had not only used her real name, Cassandra Carson, but also the name Cassandra Smith, but Numerical suspected that the Smith identity was only used while working.

  She was currently following a man named Earl Harding. Harding was a dentist by day, but at night, he drove about for hours while keeping to the highways. Numerical knew that Harding was a predator, had recognized it in the man even from a distance, because he was excellent at spotting his own kind.

  Harding didn’t appear dangerous at all. He was a short, chubby man in his late-thirties with a wide, florid face, who moved slowly, like a man decades older.

  Numerical had wondered briefly if Cassandra Carson was the woman who had killed the apostle, Bartholomew, but discarded that idea. The girl in the video of that killing had darker hair and moved with a feline grace. Still, he wondered if she had the vision to see Harding for what he really was, as he was beginning to suspect some did.

  He had thought that only those of his own kind could discern each other, but the girl who had killed Bartholomew did so before the police discovered the locked sub-basement in his home where he tortured his victims.

  This thought unnerved him more than any other, to think that a potential victim could not only see him for what he truly was, but also be willing and able to dispatch him as efficiently as he would kill a cockroach.

  If it was true, it disturbed the natural order of things.

  Up ahead on the highway, Harding pulled off abruptly onto the shoulder, and Numerical saw that he was picking up a hitchhiker. He was far back, as he was following behind Cassandra, but could tell that the hitchhiker was a male, because the man sported a bushy beard.

  Cassandra drove by Harding without slowing, and Numerical assumed that she was tracking her quarry as he was, and had attached a device to Harding’s car. This thought spawned a paranoid thought, and he made a mental note to check his own vehicle for a tracker when he next parked.

  If he could track someone who was tracking someone, then perhaps he was being tracked as well.

  ***

  After picking up the hitchhiker, Harding drove back to his dental practice, which was located in a quiet town west of Fort Worth.

  Numerical was able to get a glimpse into Harding’s vehicle when it was stopped at a traffic light, and it appeared to him that the hitchhiker was slumped in his seat, with his head lolling against the side window.

  Numerical suspected that Harding had somehow drugged his victim as he drove along, possibly with something the man drank.

  Harding’s dental practice was located on the third floor of a three-story building that had a Dollar Store on the first floor and a law firm on the second. There was an elevator, and Numerical made it back to the rear of the building on foot, just in time to see Harding drag his unconscious victim into the elevator car.

  No sooner had the doors closed on the elevator, when he saw Cassandra emerge from behind an air-conditioning unit and use a device to pick the lock on the door, likely a snap gun. She was wearing a dark hoodie and gloves, and was so proficient with the snap gun that in less than a minute she was inside and creeping up the stairs.

  Numerical found the door still unlocked, but opened it only a crack in order to listen, after hearing nothing, he poked his head inside and that’s when he heard the gunshots.

  It was after midnight and traffic was sporadic on the quiet avenue, where the only open business was a gas station three blocks away.

  The sound of the shots faded only to be replaced by the cadenced slapping of footfalls, as Cassandra ran down the stairs. Numerical barely managed to conceal himself before she came out the door and walked away at an efficient, but unhurried pace, to then reach under Harding’s car and reclaim her tracker.

  He knew where Cassandra was staying, and so decided to appease his curiosity rather than follow her, and went inside to see what had become of Dr. Harding and the hitchhiker.

  He entered the office with a gun at the ready, and moved quietly past the reception area in the front. Several small treatment rooms were set on both sides of a corridor, but he found Harding and his would-be victim in the large room at the rear.

  Despite the bushy beard, the hitchhiker was young, still in his teens, and had been rendered unconscious. Harding had the boy strapped into a dental chair that was reclined all the way back, with a full set of tools atop an attached tray.

  They were not dental tools, but the tools of a torturer, complete with hammer and chisel, and also a two-pronged device that Numerical figured would have been used to rip out the hitchhiker’s tongue.

  As for Harding, he was dead, and had been dispatched efficiently with a shot each to the heart and head.

  Numerical was staring down at the doctor when he became aware of the sound, and began jerking his head around to locate the source of it, when he realized that the sound was a voice.

  It was the phone in the office. It was off the hook and laying on a table, and when Numerical lowered his head and listened to the tinny voice emanating from it, he realized that it was the voice of a police dispatcher.

  He was through the office and back at the staircase in instants. But, as he leapt over the last four steps to land in the downstairs hallway, flashing blue and red lights came into the parking lot swiftly, and when he gazed down the hall towards the front entrance, he saw a second pair of lights flickering against the opaque glass, as a patrol car skidded to a stop outside.

  Numerical hesitated only long enough to curse, and then he banged through the rear door of the building and fired at the cop who was just coming to a stop. His shots missed the officer, but rattled him sufficiently enough to cause his foot to slip off
the brake, and the police car slammed into the building.

  Numerical bounded over the fence at the rear and hit the ground, to lay flat beside a tree, as a volley of shots ripped through the fence, missing him, and shattering the rear windows of an adjacent home.

  When the shooting stopped, Numerical sprang to his feet and dashed to his car, which was parked at the curb three houses away. The vehicle was stolen and had plates taken from a different car, but he still planned to ditch it as soon as possible.

  He stole vehicles often and easily. One of his Grandfather’s best clients at the bordello had been a professional car thief, and young Numerical had traded free access to the women for lessons in thievery. He never drove the same car for long, and with the recovery rate of stolen vehicles at an all-time low due to police budget cuts, he worried little about getting caught.

  What was car theft to a man who routinely committed murder?

  Numerical made it to the highway without incident and drove to Cassandra’s motel, where he found her loading her things into her car. He had taken a room across the parking lot from hers, and he got out of his car and weaved slightly, hoping to give the impression that he was a drunk returning from a bender.

  He saw that she was eyeing him, but she lost interest in him after he dropped his keys and muttered slurred curses.

  Once inside his room, he watched her through a slit he had previously made in the curtains, and as soon as she drove away, he followed, and was surprised when she drove only two miles down the road to another motel.

  Cassandra knocked on the door of room 116, and the door opened to reveal the smiling faces of two other young women, women named Mia and Kelly.

  Numerical didn’t know it, but he was on the verge of uncovering an organization even more dangerous to his well-being than the FBI, an organization called PREY.

  CHAPTER 15

  Summervale, North Carolina, 9:53 a.m.

  Alice had been on her way to pick up her daughter, Kimmy, after Kimmy stayed at a friend’s house for a sleepover. She had taken the old logging road to save time, but then got a flat tire. Normally, such an inconvenient event would have put her in a bad mood, but she was so happy that nothing bothered her much anymore.

  She and Rob had gone out on several dates and each one was better than the last. She hadn’t been so happy since before her husband died and hadn’t thought that she could be, and Rob had also proven himself to be good with kids, as Kimmy liked him as well.

  Alice had just tightened the last lug nut on the spare tire when she heard the sound of gunfire echo through the woods to her right.

  Trees muffled the sound of the shots, but Alice could tell that it was a large caliber weapon. When curiosity overtook her, she loaded the flat into her trunk along with the tire iron, and went off into the woods to look for the source of the shots.

  Although cold, the day was bright and clear, and Alice was wearing boots and a warm jacket. After about a mile, she came to a clearing and could see the backs of two men and a woman, all three of whom were holding guns.

  When the trio walked over to a pickup truck to take something out, she realized that she was looking at her neighbors, Rich and June Chandler, as well as the bald man she had seen only once before.

  To Alice’s surprise, the bald man and Rich removed an old metal barrel from the rear of the pickup and rolled it out into the field where they had previously hung paper targets on a group of saplings.

  After setting it upright, they walked back to the truck, and then the bald man brought out a weapon with an extended clip. When he fired at the barrel, Alice nearly let out a cry, as she watched the barrel become shredded by the gunfire, as if it were made of cardboard instead of steel.

  She had grown up hunting with rifles and knew her way around a handgun, but she could see that the bald man with the Chandlers was using a rifle modified to fire on full automatic, and by the way the bullets passed easily through the barrel, she knew that the ammo was armor piercing.

  Alice crept back to the car and took out her phone to call Rob Bolan, to report what she had seen, but then she stopped, remembering that she dare not get involved in any sort of investigation, because that could easily lead to her own incarceration.

  Alice started her car and drove away, and knew that from then on, that she’d be keeping a watchful eye on the Chandlers.

  ***

  After having breakfast with Kelly and Mia at a coffee shop near the motel, Cassandra decided to stay in the booth and have a second cup of coffee while she checked her email.

  There was a letter from her sister, Emily, and Cassandra was glad to read that Emily was doing well in her new surroundings.

  Because Numerical had targeted her, Cassandra’s family had relocated Emily to the town of Ipswich, England, where one branch of the family still lived, and where both Emily and Cassandra had previously visited while on vacation. When she reached the part of the letter where Emily said that she had already met someone over there, she wondered if her sister would ever move back to the states.

  Once she had sorted through her email, Cassandra checked online for news, and when she reached the story about the serial killing dentist, Earl Harding, she straightened in her seat and gaped in surprise.

  Apparently, someone else had been at the scene, and that someone, a man, had fired upon the police when they arrived to check out the call she had made. She had seen the police cars rushing towards Harding’s office as she was driving back to her motel and knew that they must have arrived at Harding’s dental practice mere minutes after she left. If someone else had been on the scene, it was possible that she was followed there.

  She rose from the booth, paid the bill, and headed outside to check her car for a tracking device.

  ***

  As he was spying on Cassandra through a pair of binoculars, Numerical saw the change in her demeanor and watched as her eyes roamed about, as if searching for someone.

  “Damn it,” he muttered. “She knows she’s been followed.”

  He was parked two rows behind Cassandra’s car and when he saw her rise from the booth and pay her bill he knew what her next course of action would be. She would search beneath her car for a tracker, and once she found it, she would destroy it and then make sure to lose any tails.

  Shooting at the cop the night before all but announced to her that someone was shadowing her, but it had been the only way to leave the scene without risking arrest.

  Numerical left his car, his new car, one that he had stolen just before dawn, and while leaning over and staying out of view, he made his way to Cassandra’s car to remove his tracker. He had just freed its magnetic base from beneath the car when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

  Numerical lay flat on the ground and then scurried backwards, until he was lying beneath the car that was parked directly behind Cassandra’s, and from the shadows of that cramped space, he watched her check for the tracker he had just removed.

  At one point, with Cassandra at the rear of the car and leaning over to feel beneath it, Numerical considered skittering forward, grabbing her ankles, and pulling her down between the two vehicles. If he acted quickly enough, he could cover her mouth before she could cry out, and then slip his knife between her ribs.

  He decided against it, despite the pleasure it would bring, because he had come to believe that Cassandra was but the tip of an iceberg, and he needed her alive if he was to learn more about what or who was behind her.

  After completing a circuit around her car while feeling beneath it, Cassandra seemed satisfied that the car had no tracker, and within seconds was behind the wheel and driving away.

  Numerical crawled out from beneath the car he’d hidden under, brushed himself off, and rushed to his own vehicle to follow. He couldn’t have been more than twenty seconds behind Cassandra when he left the parking lot, but before long, he had to admit to himself that he had lost her.

  He went back to the motel, but she wasn’t there and he doubted
she would return there after suspecting that she had been followed.

  Cassandra was gone, in the wind, and Numerical was left with only questions.

  ***

  Later that day, at the college in her town, Jessica sat inside a lecture hall watching Dr. Elena Colt give a presentation to a group of young women.

  “PREY,” Elena said, while pointing at the huge video screen where that single word was displayed in letters taller than herself. Her long white hair appeared luminescent beneath the lights, and her blue eyes spoke of an inner youthfulness.

  “P is for preparedness. What would you do if someone broke into your home, or your car while you were stopped at a light, or simply grabbed you from behind? You would know what to do if, R, you were Ready, ready to defend yourself and your family, because you changed your mindset, and also took the time to learn a few skills.

  “E, is for Embolden, once you have prepared and made yourself ready, embolden your sisters, your friends, and make them realize that they don’t have to go through life afraid of human predators such as robbers and rapists, that they too can become prepared and ready to fight back.

  “And finally, the letter Y, which stands for You, because ladies, the Knight in Shining Armor rarely appears to save you, and your fate, your very survival is in your own hands. Thank you for listening, and now, if you have any questions I’ll answer them, and if you’re interested in learning more and taking one or even several of our free courses, please sign-up at the table near the door.”

  Jessica waited patiently after the presentation, until Elena had spoken personally to the members of the audience who had stayed behind to see her, but after they were alone, they made their way to a coffee shop near the campus to talk.

  “How is your husband doing?” Elena asked.

  “Very well, but he’s always been a quick healer, and fortunately there were no complications from his surgery other than the slight infection he suffered while still in the hospital.”

  “And what about those babies of yours?”