Things had seemed strange from the beginning, but now nothing was adding up. Between the fire and the race to keep Carlie alive and hidden, Nick hadn’t thought about it, but the entire situation was off. Paul no longer acted like the man Nick had always known him to be. He was acting like a criminal.
“Does the President know where you are?”
Paul scoffed. “You were once a good agent, Nick, but way too easy to manipulate. We haven’t been working for the President for a long time. Get your ass to Phoenix. This job has already taken too long since I had to string you along to get you to do what I needed.”
Anger turned like lava in Nick’s gut. Who the hell had they been working for? He squeezed his hand into a fist and took deep breaths. “I’ll expect to talk to Carlie the next time you call. If I don’t hear from her, you’ll never get the bracelet.”
“Don’t try to be sly, Nick. You can’t outwit me.”
“And don’t you test me. If she can’t speak with me every time you call from here on out I’ll assume she’s dead. Whatever this bracelet actually means, Carlie staying alive is your only chance of getting it.”
Nick hung up without giving Paul a chance to respond. He set the phone on the desk with exaggerated care. What he really wanted to do was break out of control and beat the shit out of something—more like someone.
Drawing on all his training, Nick forced himself to find his center and meditate, focusing his thoughts and calming his anger. He needed to think clearly to save Carlie’s life. Anger was his enemy.
Knowing he hadn’t been actually working for the government wasn’t as much of a shock as Nick expected. Deep down, he always wondered if Paul was lying, ever since he sent orders to kill Jason Steele and then cut off Nick’s communication with the other agents.
After his meditations were complete, Nick glanced at the address book, a plan forming now that his mind was clear. Perhaps he wasn’t in this alone. There might be someone who would help him.
Chapter Forty-One
Carlie’s eyes felt glued shut and her mouth tasted like she’d sucked on pennies. Struggling against her nausea, she forced her eyes open. The white walls around her put her in mind of a psychiatric hospital, though they weren’t padded. Nothing hung on them and fluorescent lights made the room too bright.
“Is she still asleep?” A male voice, familiar.
Carlie realized it was Terrance, and then remembered what happened. She was captive.
“Last time I checked she was,” a female answered. “Still breathing, thank God. I think your drug needs more work. You’re going to kill someone.”
Carlie froze, holding her breath as she struggled to hear whatever else was said. She knew that voice.
Terrance laughed. “Sometimes the boss doesn’t want ‘em to keep breathing.”
“Maybe the boss doesn’t, but the President might have a different opinion.”
Carlie shifted on the small cot, trying to get a better view of the room behind her head. A metal door with a small window in it dominated the far wall. Terrance’s face was visible through the small opening, but he stared at the other person in the hallway with him, not in at Carlie.
He turned slightly, and she quickly closed her eyes, not wanting them to know she’d woken up.
“If you know what’s good for you,” Terrance said, “you won’t question Paul or the President. Stick to your job. Why don’t you go wake her up? The MG-37 should have worn off by now. I’ll be back to check on you later.”
The sound of his hard boots clomped down the hallway, fading out, and the door creaked open. Carlie tried to keep her breathing even and feign sleep, but couldn’t control her nerves. How could she have so completely trusted the wrong person?
“Carlie?”
The scent of Obsession perfume washed over her as the woman kneeled, leaving no doubt as to her captor’s identity.
The woman shook her shoulder gently. “Can you wake up a little?”
Without opening her eyes, Carlie whispered, “How could you?” She sat up quickly, feeling a little woozy and swallowing down bile as she glared into Shelley’s bright blue eyes. “Did you start the fire at the shop, or just help Paul find me after I called? I trusted you!”
“Don’t talk to me like that. Terrorists don’t get to act outraged when they get caught.” Shelley stood and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “I actually thought you were innocent for a while. I bought into that poor Princess Stephanie bullshit! I thought we were friends. I can’t believe you tricked me like that!”
Carlie sighed. “So, Paul’s still lying to you, huh? At least you don’t want to kill me because some criminal is paying you to. That’s some comfort.”
Her eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“The ‘Princess Stephanie bullshit,’” Carlie said, making air quotes, and Shelley gasped, “is one-hundred percent true. Your boss, however, must have decided to help the assassins after me. Your pal out there, Terrance, wanted to take me alive for the person paying for this job, but from what he said, I’m not going to stay that way long.”
Shelley shook her head. “You’re lying. There’s no way Paul works for assassins. He’s against crime and terrorists, and you were going to do damage with your bracelet. I can’t let you do that.”
“My bracelet?” Carlie remembered how interested Nick had been in Gabi’s bracelet. Did Shelley really think it was some sort of terrorist device?
“Never mind,” Shelley said. “You aren’t capable of anything but lies, and I don’t want to hear them.”
If she didn’t always act so tough, Carlie might think Shelley actually had her feelings hurt. She acted like she was the one who’d been betrayed, instead of Carlie.
“I’m not lying, Shelley, but I have no way to convince you.” She shrugged. “Nick took me away from Sayle because he figured out I was telling the truth. You might think about that before you help them kill me.”
Shelley looked at the ground, eyebrows drawn together. Carlie hoped that meant she was at least thinking about it. Maybe Shelley could still be an ally if she realized the truth. Obviously she thought she worked for the good guys, but Carlie felt certain Paul answered to someone other than the United States government.
“I’ll bring you some water,” Shelley finally said. “I’ve heard MG-37 leaves a horrible taste in your mouth.” She left the room but quickly returned with bottled water.
Carlie was thankful it was a sealed bottle and likely safe to drink, because as soon as Shelley mentioned water thirst overtook her. She uncapped it and downed half of it at once. “Thank you.”
“I’m just following orders.”
She left the room again, and this time the sound of a dead bolt sliding in place echoed through the small room.
***
Nick stared at his cell phone while waiting for his plane to board, torn about what to do. Before leaving the lake house, he programmed the safe number into his phone. Now, he wondered if calling it would do any good. Maybe it wasn’t even connected anymore.
Back when he first signed onto the agency, the President at that time met personally with the agents. He told Nick if he ever needed anything to call that number. Would it still work? Or worse, did it direct to someone who would report the call to Paul?
Then again, Nick had a feeling his and Carlie’s lives were forfeit whether or not he tried to find help. Maybe something could be done to help save her—someone on the line who could offer assistance.
He pushed send and held his breath while waiting to see if the call connected.
The phone never rang, but a mechanical voice came on the line. “If you called this number looking for the safe line, and you are a member of a certain group that lost contact with us, please leave your real name and a number where we can reach you. We will call back shortly.”
Nick hesitated as the tone sounded for the answering machine. He hoped he was doing the right thing, but the oddly-worded message seemed to indicate the safe
number was still operational. “My name is Nick Kendall, but I was formerly Stewart Farnes. I’m in a bit of trouble, as I think the boss has turned to criminal activity. He’s holding an innocent woman hostage.” Nick sighed and stared at his watch. “I’m boarding a plane in ten minutes, but my flight lands in Phoenix around four their time.” He checked his boarding pass. “Delta Air, flight 7170. Then I’m supposed to call the boss. I need help.”
He left his number and disconnected the call, just as the announcement for early boarding came over the loud speaker in the airport.
All he could do was hope that number didn’t connect directly to Paul and his message made it to the board of S.A.T.O.—and then hope they weren’t all corrupted. So many things could go wrong, and Carlie was the one who would suffer if Nick made the wrong choices.
He stuffed his hand into his pants pocket and closed his fist around her bracelet. As long as he had this, he had power. For whatever reason, Paul wanted it. There was still hope.
Chapter Forty-Two
Carlie dozed in and out fitfully. The whatever-37 drug made her sluggish and faint. There were no windows inside the small room and the fluorescent lighting never wavered. She had no clue whether she’d been in the room for hours or days. Occasionally she heard voices in the hallway, often Shelley’s, but no other sounds.
She mentally practiced every defense Nick taught her, planning what to do when she got an opportunity once the drug completely wore off. She was grateful for all the drills Nick insisted on the last few weeks. Shelley wouldn’t be aware everything Carlie knew—therefore Paul wouldn’t either. Although the supposed anti-terrorist group wanted her dead, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
“Is the target awake?” Paul’s gruff voice came from the other side of the doorway.
“She’s been in and out,” Shelley answered.
“Well, she’s had enough recovery time. Our client wants answers.”
“Sir, about the client...” There was a long pause in the conversation, and Carlie strained to hear them.
“What is it, Daniels?”
“Is he...did he...”
“Spit it out, or get the hell out of my way,” Paul growled.
“Carlie said he’s a criminal paying you off to assassinate her, and that we aren’t working for the government. Is that true?”
“I know you’re newer around here, but Carlie already ruined one good agent when she convinced Nick to help her. Don’t make the same mistakes he did.”
The door swung open and Paul strode into the room. He jerked his head in Shelley’s direction and she followed behind him.
“On your feet, bitch,” Paul barked. “Someone wants to see you.” He turned to Shelley. “Secure her hands behind her back.”
Shelley walked toward her, but the look in her eyes wasn’t nearly as hostile as it had been before. She pulled a plastic zip tie from her pocket and held it out. “It’ll be a lot easier if you cooperate.”
Carlie glared at Paul before turning around. She didn’t know exactly where Shelley stood within Paul’s group or how long she had been her enemy, but it appeared she thought about what Carlie told her. “How long have you been lying to the agents, Paul? Do they all think they’re still fighting on the side of good?”
“Shut your mouth or I’ll shut it for you,” he warned. “We don’t need your lies around here.”
“What does it matter?” she asked. “You’re going to kill me anyway. You’re just pissed off because Nick figured out what was going on and tried to save me. What is it you want from me?”
Paul didn’t answer.
She figured he must work for the assassins from Maharla, but she wasn’t sure why he kept her alive. Meeting with the client would probably clear up that question, and end in her death.
The zip tie closed around her wrists, binding them together as the hard plastic dug into her flesh, flaring up the nerve pain from her scarred left hand. Even though it hurt, there was quite a bit of play between her hands. She didn’t know if it was enough to wriggle free, but she intended to find out if they gave her any time to herself.
Behind her, Shelley inhaled swiftly and murmured directly in her ear, “Is that what the fire did to you? That’s awful.”
Carlie craned her neck to meet Shelley’s eyes over her shoulder. “Were we ever really friends, or did you work for him the entire time?”
“Time to go.” Paul hooked his hand into her elbow and jerked her toward the doorway. “Can’t keep him waiting.”
For better or worse, she was about to find out why they’d kept her alive.
***
Nick turned on his cell phone as the plane landed. He had one missed call and a voice mail. While the plane rolled to its designated terminal, he accessed the message.
“Mr. Kendall, we’ve been waiting over a year for someone to call the safe number. FBI agents are on their way to the Phoenix airport and will meet you at the car rental counters. Your boss stopped following orders last year, and we’re desperate to catch him. Many innocent lives have been lost. Perhaps we can mutually benefit each other. There are four agents, and they will each have a green bag so you can easily identify them. I hope you meet them.”
Nick replayed the message, his heart sinking at this confirmation of his earlier fears. What role had he played over the last year in harming innocent people? Carlie was only his fourth case since the order to assassinate Jason Steele. As far as he knew, all the other targets still lived. Then again, he’d taken items or information from each of them and had no idea what Paul did with that.
He caught the tram to the main terminal and headed for the car rental counters. While there was a possibility the FBI was actually there to arrest him for working with Paul, Nick didn’t think so. They were his best shot at getting Carlie back, and the only real choice he had.
It wasn’t hard to spot them. Three men and one woman leaned against the back wall, out of the way of travelers attempting to get a car. They each wore smart business suits and dark sunglasses. The green bags next to them on the floor were probably government issued.
Sighing, Nick headed toward them. Nothing like being obvious. Since Paul didn’t know when his flight landed, he could only hope no one watched the airport. The boss would know these guys were feds. Having the element of surprise when they went after Carlie was how Nick hoped to get them out alive. Paul needed to think he was alone.
He stopped in front of them and set his carry on next to his feet. “I’m Nick. I think you’re waiting for me.”
There was a tense moment while they looked him over, and Nick wondered again whether they were there to arrest him. Finally, the woman pushed her sunglasses on top of her head, pulling her long brown hair away from her face. She stuck her hand out and shook his. “I’m Jenessa Jones. It’s good to meet you. The President personally extends his thanks. We haven’t been able to get a lead on Paul Billings since contact ceased last year. He’s been involved in a lot of horrible deals, but each time we think we are about to close in on him, he slips away. We need your help in putting a stop to his criminal activities.”
“We already have a car outside,” said the man to Jenessa’s left. “We shouldn’t talk about anything in here.”
Nick nodded his agreement. They picked up their bags and headed into the heat of the Arizona afternoon. At least Carlie wouldn’t freeze without her ugly coat.
He’d tried hard not to consider what could be happening to her, but hearing this confirmation Paul had gone rogue ratcheted his fear up even higher. Even if Carlie was still alive, it didn’t necessarily mean she was okay. While he needed to talk to the feds and see what they could do to help before alerting Paul to the fact he was in town, Nick was anxious to call. He didn’t know why the bracelet was so important, but if Paul wanted it, he’d have to let Nick talk to Carlie. That was the only thing keeping him halfway sane right now. Paul couldn’t kill her.
As much as Nick knew him, the boss also knew Nick. Paul would have to put
her on the phone, or he’d never see the bracelet. He would know Nick was serious about that.
One of his demands would be to talk to her each leg of this multi-step process Paul had planned. It would keep her safe, and then he would rescue her. Nick ground his teeth with determination and slid into the back of a black SUV next to Jenessa.
“What’s the plan?” he asked. “I’ll try to help you capture Paul, but Carlie’s my main concern. She’s an innocent bystander pulled into this because she had something he wanted. If you want to work with me, rescuing her needs to be your top priority.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Paul led her down a long, white corridor, Shelley trailing behind. The fluorescent lights continued in this part of the building, again with no windows to the outside. Carlie couldn’t even guess where she was or what time of day it was. She wondered if Nick had returned to the lake house from Vancouver yet, what he thought of her being gone.
There were several doors along the hallway. Carlie tried to look inside the windows of each, though she wasn’t able to see anything in their quick hurry past. Were there other prisoners trapped in those rooms? If so, were they all innocent, too?
The faint sound of rock music came from in front of her, and Paul stopped walking, pulling his phone from his pocket. He half turned to her with a smile. “Looks like the client will have to wait.” He swiped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Nick. How nice of you to call. Are you at the airport?”
Nick? Then he knew Paul had her. Hope lifted Carlie for the first time since she awoke. Nick was coming for her. She didn’t know why Paul contacted him, but maybe getting out of here alive wasn’t as farfetched as it seemed a few moments earlier.
“Yes,” Paul said. “She’s right here and totally unharmed, but you better bring the goods if you want her to stay that way.”
Goods? So Nick had something he needed. That was great news.
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