Black Ops Warrior

by Amelia Autin

  Before the man could respond, however, Nick D’Arcy, head of the agency and one of the most highly respected men in the capital, spoke for the first time. “Dr. Whitman doesn’t think the risk outweighs the benefits. She has already agreed.”

  “What?” Niall stared blankly. “You’ve approached her?”

  D’Arcy’s smile was full of understanding, and though no one else in the room knew, not even his boss, that smile told Niall that D’Arcy was all too aware just how personally involved Niall was. Someone told him, he thought. Did Keira somehow pick up on it? Is that how he knows?

  Then he remembered D’Arcy’s nickname, which he’d heard his sister and her husband use more than once. Baker Street. That’s right. That’s what they call him, because he’s so omniscient, like Sherlock Holmes. So maybe his sister hadn’t betrayed him after all.

  “The plan wouldn’t work without her,” D’Arcy explained. “There was no point escalating it to top priority unless she was on board. So, yes, I spoke with her myself. She was quick to understand this is really the only way. She had only one request, Mr. Jones.”

  “Which is?”

  “She wants you in charge.”

  Well, that explains why you were invited to this top-secret meeting, Niall realized. He considered flat-out refusing to have anything to do with a plan that put Savannah at risk in any way...for the space of ten seconds. But after a quick perusal of the faces at the conference table, he concluded they were going ahead with this idea with or without him. And there was no way he would let Savannah do this without him.

  He turned back to D’Arcy. “Break it down for me, sir. I need every detail, including what assets you’re deploying and how you intend to keep Dr. Whitman safe through all of this.”

  * * *

  Savannah had cancelled the road trip she’d planned to Hoover Dam and Las Vegas at the behest of Mr. D’Arcy. Not cancelled, she corrected herself as she sat in her office poring over all the photos from her China trip. Postponed. I’m still going there. Eventually.

  But Mr. D’Arcy had pointed out how important it was to have a controlled environment until Davies and his henchmen were caught, and she’d seen the wisdom of his argument. So she was a semiprisoner in her Vail, Arizona, home for the time being.

  It wasn’t as if she was twiddling her thumbs, however. The postponement of her next trip was a good thing in one way, since it gave her time to catalog the remainder of her China photos and update her travel diary while everything was fresh in her mind.

  But doing that also meant she couldn’t relegate Niall to a corner of her mind, so the pain of missing him was a constant ache. So many pictures either featured him or brought back memories of having him with her when they were taken. Like the ones on the Great Wall. She would never have made it to the top without Niall, which made those pictures poignant reminders of him.

  When she found herself mooning over the selfie she’d snapped of the two of them reenacting the scene from Titanic together, she resolutely took herself to task. “Concentrate!” she muttered. She clicked on the next photo, determined to get through this entire batch today. And that’s when she saw it.

  She almost missed it. She actually had her finger poised over the Delete button, because somehow the camera hadn’t focused on Niall and her in the foreground—they were slightly blurry, and she had several other much better pictures of the two of them in that moment—but then she saw the couple in the background. The faces the camera had focused on, and the malevolent expression captured on the man’s face. And all at once she knew.

  “Oh, my God. It’s them. Niall was right.”

  Which meant the emailed invitation to visit them in White Sands, New Mexico, the email she’d just received that morning and hadn’t answered yet, was a lure.

  The doorbell rang and Savannah automatically jumped up to answer the door, but her US Marshal bodyguard stopped her before she reached it. “Please, Dr. Whitman,” he reminded her patiently. “I’ll get that.”

  “Sorry. I keep forgetting.” She retreated to the hallway as her bodyguard drew his gun before moving to the door and checking through the peephole, but the moment he opened the door and she saw Niall framed in the doorway, nothing could stop her.

  She threw herself into his arms, babbling, “It’s them, Niall. I know it. I saw their picture and I suddenly knew it was them. And White Sands. I remember telling her White Sands is on my bucket list. That’s why she invited me to visit them there.”

  His arms closed around her in comforting fashion, but all he said was, “Whoa. Back up. Take a deep breath and start from the beginning.”

  She buried her face against his shoulder and did as he asked, breathing deeply. I’d know him anywhere, she thought distractedly, just by his unique scent. Then she forced herself to start over. “I was going through my China pictures just now. Cataloguing them. And there’s this one picture—no. I shouldn’t tell you when I can show you.”

  She dragged him by the hand into her office, the Marshal trailing after them. She unlocked the screen saver, then pointed to the photo in the center of the screen. “See? I can make it larger if you—”

  “No need.” Niall’s face was grim. “It’s not proof that would stand up in court, but you’re right. It’s them. Now what’s this about White Sands?”

  “I’ve always wanted to see it—the sand dunes, I mean. And when she and I were talking one day about all the places I want to visit at least once in my lifetime, we specifically discussed White Sands National Monument.”

  Savannah paused for breath. “She’s been sending me emails ever since we returned from China. And I...” She faltered, then admitted, “I’ve been writing back to her. She seemed so nice! I didn’t want it to be her...them...and I... I guess subconsciously I told myself it wasn’t them. So when she wrote to me—just a chatty email about how tough it was getting back into the normal swing of things after the leisurely pace of our China trip—I replied. I was careful, honest,” she reassured him. “I know better. But we’ve kept up a casual correspondence. And I mentioned I’d postponed the trip I’d planned to take this week because something had come up.

  “Then this morning...” Savannah gulped. “This morning she emailed me an invitation to go stay with them. She said they live not too far from White Sands National Monument, so I could kill two birds with one stone. Visit them and cross the sand dunes off my list.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “If I’d been stupid enough to accept...”

  Savannah stopped when Niall’s eyes lit up, and she recognized that expression. It was one she was sure she’d worn when she solved some tricky problem.

  “That’s just what you’re going to do,” he told her. “You’re going to accept her invitation.” He then proceeded to lay out the plan he’d devised, which was as detailed as if he’d had hours to come up with it instead of mere seconds. And once again Savannah was in awe at just how quickly Niall’s mind worked. Another in a long list of reasons why she loved him.

  * * *

  The convoy stopped at the agency’s safe house on the outskirts of White Sands Missile Range, or WSMR, to set Savannah up with the audio transmitter and GPS tracking device she would wear for her meeting. And—hopefully—her kidnapping. Since White Sands was less than five hours by car away from her home in Vail, Niall had decided Savannah would drive rather than fly under normal circumstances.

  The convoy was composed of Savannah and Niall in her car, her US Marshals bodyguards in another car and a pair of special agents from the FBI’s office in Phoenix in a third vehicle. But the “assets” assigned to this case also included special agents from the Defense Security Service and the agency, who were meeting them at the safe house.

  “Just talk and act normally,” Niall told Savannah for the third time. “Try to forget you’re wearing a transmitter.”

  “You said that already,”
she reminded him.

  He glanced at the other agents surrounding them, then framed her face with his hands. “We’ll be listening the entire time,” he promised her. “And we’ll stick as close as we can without tipping them off.”

  “I’ll be okay,” she reassured him. “Spencer Davies needs me alive, remember? He won’t kill me until afterward.”

  “Yes, but...” An expression of frustration crossed his face. “That’s Davies. If something goes wrong during the kidnapping or handover, they could kill you in a heartbeat rather than leave a witness who could testify against them. We already know they won’t stick at murder. And they don’t care who gets caught in the cross fire, either.”

  “I’ll be okay.”

  His voice was rough when he said, “If there were any other way, I—”

  “I know.” She smiled at him. “But there isn’t.” Her smile faded. “I love you,” she whispered. “If something goes wrong—not that it will, but just in case—I wanted you to know I understand why you did what you did. And there’s nothing to forgive.”

  His hands tightened on her arms, and pain slashed across his face. His tone betrayed him when he whispered her name in return. “You don’t know the worst,” he began, but she shushed him.

  “Not now. I need all my wits about me right now. Don’t tell me something that might distract me.”

  He nodded his understanding. “But when this is over...”

  “Agreed. I’ll listen to anything you have to say when this is over.” She wanted to kiss him, but not in front of all these agents, so she patted his cheek instead. “Just know that no matter what, it won’t make a bit of difference to how I feel.”

  * * *

  “Don’t screw up this time,” the man told the woman as he checked his Ruger nine-millimeter handgun, “or you’ll be sorry.”

  “I’m already sorry. Sorry I hooked up with you in the first place.” When his scowl turned ferocious, she added, “I’m the one who got her to come here, remember. If it wasn’t for me—”

  “If it wasn’t for you, we would have had her in China,” he reminded her viciously. “I’m still docking your share of the payoff for that colossal blunder.”

  She muttered something he didn’t catch. “What did you say?”

  “I said you’d better not try it,” she flared at him. “Who came up with the idea to get her here? Me! Not you, me! You try cheating me out of my rightful share and you’re the one who’ll be sorry.”

  You just signed your death warrant, he thought. When this is over... But he allowed nothing of what he was thinking to be reflected in his face, and instead snapped, “Fine.” You’ll get what’s coming to you, he added in his mind. Oh, yes, you’ll get exactly what you deserve.

  * * *

  Savannah drove up to the address she’d been given, pulled into the driveway and parked. “There’s a For Sale or Rent sign in the front yard,” she said for the benefit of the men who were listening via her electronic transmitter. “Makes sense. I doubt they really live here.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Here goes.”

  She rang the doorbell and pinned a smile on her face. Just talk and act normally, she heard Niall in her mind. So when the door swung open she said brightly, “Hi, Tammy. Thanks so much for inviting me. This was such a great idea!”

  “Well hey, Savannah, come on in. You found us without a problem?”

  If she’d been as clueless as Tammy obviously took her for, Savannah would have missed the furtive glance the other woman cast out into the street before closing the door, as if she needed to reassure herself Savannah was alone.

  “GPS is a wonderful thing,” she replied as if she had nothing but this visit on her mind. “So what’s with the sign in the yard?” she asked artlessly. “Are you and Martin moving?”

  “Oh.” Tammy’s tiny hesitation was a dead giveaway, but Savannah pretended to accept the other woman’s explanation, nodding when Tammy said, “The real estate market seems to be recovering finally, and Martin thought we should test the waters.” She quickly changed the subject. “You made good time.”

  Savannah followed her lead. “I did. I was so excited about seeing you and the sand dunes, I could hardly wait to get on the road this morning.” Her face ached from smiling so much, but she kept going. “I know we said we’d just take it easy this afternoon and visit the sand dunes tomorrow morning, but I’m not tired at all. Where’s—”

  She stopped abruptly when Martin Williams—or whatever his real name is—walked into the room, a gun in his hand. “Martin?” She didn’t have to fake the fear in her voice, but she forced herself to speak so Niall and the others would know exactly what was going on. “What are you doing with that gun?”

  * * *

  Niall sat in a nondescript white van parked a block away, listening intently to every word. And he didn’t miss the quaver in Savannah’s voice as she said, “What are you doing with that gun?”

  She’d known something like this would happen. He’d rehearsed a half dozen possible scenarios with her and what she should do in each case. Most important? Don’t resist, he’d hammered home. Let them kidnap you. Let them take you to Spencer Davies. Whatever you do, don’t make them panic.

  But there was knowing, and there was knowing. Savannah wasn’t a trained agent. Yet everything rested on her ability to pretend surprise and shock at what was going down. If at any point the Williamses felt threatened, there was no way he could get to her fast enough to prevent them from killing her.

  “Come on, Savannah,” he whispered, even though she couldn’t hear him. “You can do it. I know you can.”

  “Tammy?” he heard her say, with the perfect amount of stunned disbelief. “What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry, Savannah, but we have a job to do.”

  “I don’t understand.” Bewilderment was evident in her voice.

  Niall nodded to himself, but spoke to Savannah. “Good touch. I’d believe you were clueless, too, if I didn’t know better.”

  “Cut the chatter.” Martin’s voice, but all pretense was gone. The seemingly nice guy had been replaced by the ruthless killer Niall knew him to be. “Scream and you die. It’s that simple. Now turn around.” Apparently she didn’t turn fast enough, because the next thing Niall heard was, “I said turn around!” Followed by a cry of pain.

  “What are you—Why are you tying my hands? No, please don’t put that over my head. I swear I won’t scream, but if you want to gag me, okay, just don’t... Tammy, you know I have enochlophobia. I can’t stand people coming up behind me when I’m not expecting it, and I—”

  The rest of her words were garbled, as if she’d been gagged. Then muffled, as if a hood had been placed over her head. And Niall took a knife to the gut when he heard the tiny whimper Savannah couldn’t suppress.

  Chapter 24

  Savannah lay prone on the floor in the back of the vehicle she’d been forced into. Van? she wondered. SUV? Trying desperately to distract herself from the unreasoning fear that had begun when Martin had pushed her blinded self in front of him toward the garage, then bundled her into the back of...whatever she was in the back of.

  She had no way of knowing anything about the make, model or color of the vehicle, and she had no way to communicate with the agents listening anyway. She just hoped the tracking device she’d been fitted with was working, because she wanted to be rescued. Soon.

  Niall will find you, she comforted herself. He will.

  He’d been sure she wouldn’t be taken to Davies’s headquarters—no way to keep her presence there a secret. Which meant someplace else. Someplace she could be safely confined, yet still be allowed to do the work Davies needed her to do. For now.

  Niall had theorized two different possibilities for where Martin and Tammy would transport her after the kidnapping, and onl
y one wouldn’t require she be tracked there. Spencer Davies’s sprawling estate near Alamogordo was already under surveillance. If they were taking her there, the agents would see it. Or at least, they’d see the Williamses’ vehicle arrive. But if Davies had fitted up another location, the only way Niall would find her was by her tracking device.

  My money’s on another location, he’d told her on the drive to White Sands. Even though Davies has done his best to throw suspicion on the PRC, he won’t risk having you imprisoned in his own mansion. No way to keep it secret there, either. But if I were him, I’d make sure wherever you are, it’s not too far away. Since he needs you alive, at least for now, he’ll need to check on you constantly, make sure you’re okay.

  So their destination was somewhere in or around Alamogordo, which was less than an hour away from White Sands. Which meant wherever Martin and Tammy were taking her, she’d find out pretty soon.

  * * *

  The van Niall was riding in was fitted out with the very latest technology, courtesy of the agency, including state-of-the-art recording equipment and a sophisticated tracking system that would have been the envy of many of the other alphabet-soup agencies...if they’d known about it.

  The high-tech nature of the setup in the van distracted him for a minute with the realization there’d been no opportunity to remove the worm from Savannah’s laptop. Can’t forget to do that, he reminded himself.

  Then Niall shoved the thought aside as immaterial right now. He focused his attention on the map on the computer screen in front of him, and the little blue electronic dot that indicated Savannah’s position.

  They’d tracked her electronic beacon easily for the past forty-five minutes, staying far enough behind the Williamses’ SUV so they weren’t tagged as a tail, but close enough they were never in danger of losing the signal. They were on US 70, heading for Alamogordo, just as Niall had theorized. They’d passed White Sands National Monument a while back, and Holloman Air Force Base, too, when he noticed a shift in direction of the blue dot. “Turn right,” he told the special agent driving the van, who obediently took the fork that led away from the city, toward the mountains to the east.