Taken! Box Set - Books 1-6

by Donald Wells

  She stared into his eyes.

  “That’s never going to happen.”

  Rojo shrugged and said, “Your loss,” and then he tore open a candy bar.

  For a time, they flew in silence, as the treetops whizzed by below. Then, the plane veered sharply to the left as the pilot let out a gurgled cry.

  ***

  After their roles in the chaos had been explained, he and Blue were escorted to a waiting room.

  A short time later, an FAA official named Max Stacey entered the room. Stacey was a tall man with a receding hairline and tinted glasses.

  Stacey walked over and shook his hand. He then looked at Blue.

  “Is she with you, a friend, family?”

  “No, she was after the man who took my wife hostage. Have you tracked the plane yet?”

  Stacey gestured toward the chairs.

  “Please have a seat, you too, Ms... ?”

  “Steele, and would you please answer his question,”

  Stacey turned back to him.

  “We had a helicopter in the air when this man Rojo abducted your wife and the pilot. He tracked the jet to a field, south of Lake Derwan. The jet... I’m sorry to tell you this sir, but apparently the jet crashed, Givens, that’s the helicopter pilot, Givens says that all three aboard were dead; I’m so sorry sir.”

  He stared at Stacey, as he struggled to process the impossible.

  “You’re telling me that my wife is dead?”

  Stacey simply nodded his head in response,

  He stood up, as Blue walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He ignored her and took Stacey’s arm.

  “This man Givens; I want to speak to him.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible for a while; the dam over in Ciderville is threatening to break and anyone with wings is being routed over there to help with the evacuation. In addition, there’s this monster storm coming any minute. According to the weatherman, we’re going to get slammed.”

  He hung his head.

  “My wife, I need to get to my wife. Who can fly me out there?”

  “No one, not for a day or two, not until this storm has passed,”

  “Where exactly did it go down?”

  Stacey took his phone out and fiddled with it for a few seconds, and then he turned the screen around and showed him a map. He then pointed a finger at the screen.

  “Givens said the plane went down here, about seven or eight miles from the lake. There’s not much out there, just a small town on the other side of the lake.” Stacey put his phone away. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

  After Stacey left the room, Blue walked over and stood before him.

  “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t be alone; is there anyone you can call?”

  He nodded his head.

  “Yes, there is someone I need to call.”

  He took out his phone and a few moments later, heard an efficient sounding voice.

  “Hello sir; how may I help you?”

  “Hello Carly, now, listen carefully...”

  ***

  Max Stacey went back to his office and grabbed a radio off his desk.

  “Givens?”

  “I’m here.”

  “I’ve taken care of the husband and that bounty hunter, but we’ve got to clean this mess up before that storm hits.”

  “How do you expect me to do that?”

  “I don’t; I’ve called in our Canadian friends.”

  “Oh no!”

  “I know, but they’re the only ones big enough to clean this up quickly.”

  “How much will this cost us?”

  “Twenty percent more over the next eight shipments,”

  “Whew, they don’t come cheap, do they?”

  “No, in the meantime, guard the area; they’ll be there soon.”

  “What about the cops?”

  “Between the storm coming and the dam about to burst, they’ve got their hands full. They won’t stay away forever, but we should have enough time to get in and get out.”

  “Right, and I’ll let you know when they get here Max, Givens out,”

  ***

  After talking with Max Stacey, Givens secured the radio in its holster and then looked out the window of his helicopter.

  Before him, was a corporate jet painted with the logo of a fictitious company. The plane’s nose was smashed into a hill and its left side was cracked open. Where the passenger seats should have been, were numerous blue plastic totes, each contained packets of methamphetamine

  ***

  A mile and a half away, Jessica looked back at her own jet and stumbled as Rojo pulled her along by the wrist. The pilot remained inside the plane, having died on impact, after swerving to avoid a collision with the drug plane.

  Snowflakes swirled around them as the promised storm began, and the grass became speckled with white, while the temperature grew increasingly colder.

  “We should have stayed with the jet.” Jessica said. “If we’re outside when this storm intensifies, we’ll freeze to death.”

  “It’ll take hours for the snow to accumulate, and by then we’ll make it to the nearest town.”

  Jessica ripped her arm loose from Rojo and stood her ground.

  Rojo took out the gun and pointed it at her. “Move!”

  “Listen to me, please? This ‘nearest town’ you’re hoping to find could be twenty miles from here; we’ll never walk that far before the storm builds. This storm is supposed to be enormous, the inside of the plane isn’t much protection against the cold, but if we’re caught out here we’ll have no chance at all.”

  Rojo shook his head.

  “That plane is a death trap. Why do you think that other jet was flying so low and so fast?”

  “I don’t know; why was it?”

  “Drugs, they were muling drugs, probably prescription drugs in this neck of the woods.”

  “Well, what if they were? How would that affect us?”

  “Someone is gonna come looking for those drugs, and when they do, you don’t want to be around, get it?”

  “They would kill us for being witnesses.”

  “Eureka!” Rojo said, and then took her by the wrist again. “Somebody is gonna send a clean-up crew to retrieve those drugs and make that plane untraceable, and I don’t want to be anywhere around when that happens.”

  Jessica quickened her pace, as she was suddenly more afraid of the devils she didn’t know, rather than the one who gripped her wrist.

  ***

  He left the airfield and got a room at the nearest motel. Blue had given him a ride in her pick-up truck and also taken a room.

  They sat in a donut shop across from the motel and waited for Carly to phone him back.

  “This Carly, what is she, your secretary?”

  “Something like that,”

  “Even if you get out to the crash site, what do you expect to...? I mean, maybe it’s best if you remember her the way—”

  “I told my wife that I would find her; I’m going to find her.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  “Why?”

  Blue shrugged. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

  His phone rang and he answered it. It was Carly.

  “It’s me sir; I did as you asked. The price for everything was six thousand dollars.”

  “Fine, how will this work?”

  “I have a number for you to call. The man on the other end will coordinate a pick-up point with you. He owns a charter service in a neighboring town.”

  Carly read off a number and he wrote it down, and then, he asked her a question.

  “What about the other items?”

  “He’ll have those too, but sir, may I ask why you want those items. Are you expecting more trouble?”

  “There’s an old saying Carly: ‘It’s better to have something and not need it, than to need something and not have it.”

  “I understand sir. In that spi
rit, maybe I should join you? You might need me.”

  “You’re nearby?”

  “I’m in Colchester, at an Anime convention.”

  “I see, thank you Carly, but no, I’ll be just fine.”

  There was dead air on the phone, but then he heard her say, “You shouldn’t be alone sir, not now.”

  “I’m not alone, there’s an... interested party tagging along.”

  “I’m so sorry about Dr. White sir.”

  “Yes.”

  “Goodbye sir,”

  He opened his mouth to say goodbye, but heard crying on the other end, and then the line went dead.

  He dialed the number Carly had given him and heard a gruff voice on the other end.

  “Yeah?”

  “This is the client.”

  “Where are you?”

  He gave him the name of the motel, and was directed to the parking lot of a deserted mill, a short drive away.

  “How soon will you get there?”

  “Give me fifteen minutes; it will probably take you that long to find it anyway.”

  “I’ll see you in fifteen minutes.”

  He closed his phone and got up from the table.

  Fourteen minutes later, he and Blue stood outside her truck, watching the sky.

  The chopper came from the west and landed near them as the snow began to thicken. As they approached the helicopter, the pilot gestured toward the seats. He was middle-aged, with short hair, turning gray.

  “There’s a package back there for you. Now buckle up and I’ll get you to the crash site. I hope this doesn’t take long; the weather service says that the storm has gotten bigger.”

  As the chopper lifted into the air, he opened his package. Inside, were two untraceable guns in shoulder rigs and a Bowie knife with a foot-long blade, in a sheath. There were also spare clips and a pair of flashlights.

  Blue stared at him.

  “Just who the hell are you, CIA?”

  “Let’s just say I’m someone who likes to be prepared.”

  He slipped into his shoulder harness and handed the second gun to Blue. She attempted to put the harness on, but her breasts made the fit uncomfortable. She slipped out of the harness and just held the gun in her hand.

  “Sometimes the girls get in the way,” She told him.

  The pilot spoke to him.

  “We’re in the area you said, but there’s nothing—wait. I see something now.”

  He looked down at the landscape and, in fact, saw three somethings. The first one was a jet with its nose crushed against the side of a hill. Even from the air, he could tell that it was larger than the one his wife left on, and his heart filled with renewed hope that Jessica was alive, and that the man named Givens had identified the wrong plane.

  Parked near the jet was a helicopter with official markings, while the third object was over a mile away. He couldn’t be certain of its size from the height he viewed it from, but the third object appeared to also be a jet. In the distance was a lake, and it looked frozen, because the snow was turning its gray surface white.

  He told the pilot to set down a hundred feet away from the wreckage, after they landed, the pilot handed him a satellite phone.

  “This phone only works with the one I have. When you need me, call, and I’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  “You’re not staying?”

  “I’m strictly pick-up and deliver; your business is your business,”

  He and Blue got out and the chopper flew away. As they walked toward the other chopper, a man came out to meet them. He wore an insulated jumpsuit and was in his mid-thirties.

  “Two of you?” The man said. “They only sent two of you to clean up this whole mess?”

  The man had obviously mistaken them for someone else, and he decided to play along.

  “Relax, we’re just the first team, the others will be along soon.”

  Blue picked up on his play and moved the game along.

  “We evaluate before the others arrive; we find it saves time. Now, tell us exactly what happened here.”

  The man calmed down.

  “Well, as far as I can tell, your plane had a near collision with the small jet on the other side of the clearing there. I was sent to track down that jet when I spotted yours. We were lucky though, the cargo didn’t spill and everything is intact, too bad I can’t say the same thing about Ray, the pilot, his head is half buried into the instrument panel, a real mess.”

  “And the other jet,” He said. “How many survived?”

  “I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter, right? I mean if they survived the crash then you guys will track them down and... do what you do.”

  “We’ll kill them, you mean? If anyone survived to witness this crash, we’ll kill them?”

  “Well, yeah,” The man said.

  “What’s your name?” Blue asked, as she smiled at the man.

  “I’m Givens, Frank Givens,”

  “Max Stacey’s man?” He said.

  Givens straightened his back at those words.

  “I’m not his man, we’re partners.”

  Blue pointed at the back of the chopper, where two small doors were swung open, inside sat a toolbox and a red plastic gas can.

  “Were you repairing something?”

  “No, I just got nervous about all this product sitting around. If you guys didn’t show up before the storm worsened, I was going to stuff as much of it as I could into the luggage compartment there and then set fire to the remainder.” Givens then pointed toward the sky. “Hey look, here comes the rest of your guys.”

  They looked to where Givens pointed and saw a large black helicopter approaching, a Sikorsky S-70B. When it landed, a safe bet would place their odds at six to one.

  Blue whispered to him.

  “We have to get out of here; that thing looks like it could hold a dozen men.”

  “Not yet,” He whispered back, while looking into Givens’ chopper. “I’m going to even the odds.”

  He walked over to Givens and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “You’ve been a lot of help Frank, but can you do me a favor? Take that gas and bring it to the guys when they land, we have a power saw that we use and the damn thing is always running out of fuel, any little extra would help.”

  “No problem,” Givens said, and then he walked over and grabbed the container. It was a five gallon can, and from the way he carried it, it appeared to be full.

  When Givens was out of hearing range, Blue spoke to him.

  “Well that gets rid of him, but what now?”

  He climbed inside the helicopter and grabbed a metal box off the wall.

  “Now, we even the odds.”

  He opened the box and loaded one of the flares into the gun.

  Blue sent him a confused look. “A flare gun?”

  The Sikorsky landed nearby and he tucked the flare gun into the palm of his hand and approached the men with a grin on his face, just a big, friendly guy coming over to chat.

  Givens walked up to the chopper just as the men were piling out.

  He called to him. “Hey Frank!”

  As Givens turned towards him, he took two more steps and then fired at the gas can. He missed the container by less than an inch, and the flare began burning a hole into Givens’ navel.

  With a horrific scream, Givens tossed the can into the air, and the rotating blades of the chopper sliced through the plastic and sent gallons of gas splattering everywhere, including onto Givens, who lit up like a torch and set the area ablaze.

  He brought out his gun and began firing at anyone who wasn’t already burning; their numbers were few. Meanwhile, Givens had fallen face first into the chopper and he, along with two other men, set the interior ablaze.

  He then ran back toward Blue and found her open-mouthed and frozen in place. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her along until they were lying in the snow behind Givens’ chopper.

  The blast of the huge Sikorsky was enough to
shake the ground, as several hundred gallons of fuel ignited and sent a stream of black smoke into the white sky.

  They emerged from behind the chopper to discover that one of the Sikorsky’s doors was embedded in the helicopter’s windshield, along with someone’s charred leg.

  Blue surveyed the damage and shook her head.

  “And I thought we were outnumbered, Jesus Christ.”

  ***

  As the thunderous roar of the explosion echoed across the landscape, Jessica turned and gazed at the cloud of black smoke rising in the distance, and then she smiled.

  “What are you so happy about?” Rojo said.

  Her smiled widened.

  “My husband’s coming,”

  ***

  They ran at a good clip to the site of Rojo’s hijacked jet and saw that one of the wings had been heavily damaged in the crash, but the foldout stairs were sitting open, indicating that at least someone had walked away from the wreckage.

  As he approached the jet, Blue halted him.

  “Maybe I should check it out first... just in case?”

  His mouth set into a grimace and he nodded his head.

  Blue entered the jet with her gun at the ready, seconds later; she stuck her head out the door and smiled.

  “She’s not here; she must be alive.”

  A smile lit up his face, but then he asked a question.

  “Rojo?”

  “He’s gone too; but the pilot is dead, died in the crash.”

  He took out the satellite phone and called.

  “We need to be picked up, there are two people on foot and we have to get to them as soon as possible.”

  “No can do buddy, whatever the hell you blew up out there has got people scrambling, local law enforcement is on their way.”

  “You can still pick us up; we’re at the other crash site now.”

  “Nope, I won’t risk it, but I’ll help you out, as I was flying away before, I spotted two people walking toward Lake Derwan; they were five miles due north of where you are now.”

  “How long is the walk around the lake?”

  “They wouldn’t have to go around, they can walk across; the ice is thick enough to risk it.”

  “You won’t come get us?”

  “I gotta watch out for my own neck buddy, ya know?”

  “Hey, pilot,”

  “Yeah?”

  “I will come get you.”

  “I’m the least of your problems, you’re about to get slammed by the mother of all snowstorms. It’s already snowed two feet in Boston, and we’re next.”