Abducted: A Jake Badger Mystery Thriller

by Glenn Rogers

  Alex said, “I'm starting to think that adapt and overcome just means make it up as you go.”

  “There's always a plan,” I said. “But the plan is always subject to change without notice.”

  “I see.”

  “Immediate creativity is the key to adaptability,” I said.

  “Yeah, for you and Indiana Jones. I prefer to have a plan in place and then follow the plan.”

  “We have a plan in place. We get dropped off. We sneak into the backyard and check the guesthouse. If Monica's there, we take her and go. If she's not, we enter the house and go to Mr. Durrani's room, where you keep him quiet while I enter the safe room. If Monica's there, we take her and go. If she's not, we start going from bedroom to bedroom. Eventually, we find her and take her out.”

  “What if Mrs. Durrani's got her stashed somewhere off site?”

  I hadn't thought of that. Crap. After a moment, I said, “Then Mrs. Durrani will suffer a great deal of pain until she's ready to tell me where Monica is.”

  “What if Mrs. Durrani is offsite with her?”

  “Then we keep looking until we find both of them.”

  The coffee was brewed and Alex went to pour himself a cup. I got up and put some tea in the microwave to heat.

  “What if some of the staff become aware of our presence?” Alex asked.

  “I'd prefer not to kill anyone we didn't have to kill.”

  “Wrist and ankle restraints, duct tape?”

  “Simple is best,” I said.

  He nodded. “But if we have to shoot, we shoot.”

  “Yes.”

  “I only have my .40 with me,” he said.

  “I've got plenty of extras.”

  I went to my gun safe and retrieved a small .357 and a hip holster. I picked up an extra revolver for myself, another Taurus eight-shot with a four-inch barrel. I'd carry one in a shoulder holster and one on my right hip. I also grabbed my Recon survival knife and a couple of speed loaders and two small flashlights as well. I gave Alex the things he needed.

  “Should we take a look at the back of the property?” Alex asked.

  “That's probably a good idea.”

  I put my laptop on the table, opened Google Earth, and typed in the Durrani's address.

  We got a good view of the property. There was nothing built behind it, not even an access road. No way in from the back. The front of the property had street access, but the back was fenced. A six foot block wall came out a good fifty feet from either side of the house and then ran down the sides to the back of the property and across the back. It was a secure compound of five or six acres. There was an expansive patio off the back of the house and a large pool. Fifty feet beyond the pool was a two-story guesthouse that was probably two thousand square feet. To the right of the guesthouse were tennis courts. Beyond the guesthouse and tennis courts, an expanse of neatly manicured grass, shrubs, and trees.

  I said, “Heidi can let me out first, about a hundred yards before the house, and you about a hundred yards beyond it. We'll work our way to the house and go over the wall at the side. I'll go over on the right side of the house, you go over on the left.” I was pointing to the computer screen as I spoke. “We'll meet on the side of the guesthouse, here, between the house and the tennis courts.”

  “You gonna be able to pick the locks?”

  “Unless they're some kind of special high tech mechanism.”

  “What if they are?” he asked.

  “Then we do it the old fashioned way ... we break a window.”

  “You know how to do that quietly?”

  “Breaking and entering is part of the basic private investigator training course.”

  “Always good to have a skill to fall back on in case your detective agency goes belly up.”

  “Uh-huh. You bring your vest?”

  “I left it in the trunk of my car.”

  “We can stop and pick it up on the way.”

  We seemed to have covered everything. My tea was ready. Alex sipped his coffee.

  “I'm getting hungry,” he said. “Got anything to snack on?”

  “Help yourself,” I said. “Pantry, fridge. Grab whatever.”

  He looked around. “Wow, not much here.”

  “I eat out mostly. Same as you.”

  “Yeah, but I'm hungry,” he said.

  “Okay. It's only nine. Go get something. There's plenty of time.”

  “Good idea. Want a sandwich?”

  “Sure.”

  “I'll go. What do you want?”

  “Pastrami.”

  “Good choice” he said. “I need the keys.”

  It was going to be a long night. A few extra calories would do us good. While Alex was gone, I tried to clear my mind and focus on what we were going to be doing in a couple of hours. Didn't work. All I could think about was Monica. I remembered the look in her eyes the Sunday night she left my apartment to go home. I remember kissing her goodbye and watching her walk to her car. I remembered the scent of her hair. Then I remembered her hovering over me after I'd been shot, doing chest compressions, keeping me alive. I remembered waking up after my surgery as she stroked my hair and said my name. I remembered the first time I kissed her, the first time she told me she loved me, the first time I told her I loved her. I remembered the first time we had sex. And I remembered the panic I felt when I realized that someone had taken her. I remember the rage. And I remembered the agony of the past week, a week of being without her, a week of wondering who had her, where she was, whether or not she was okay. And now I knew who had her. I knew where she was. I wanted to go right then and get her. I wanted to rescue her and then kill the person who had taken her from me. But then I remembered who took her and why. Mrs. Durrani. Bahara. I'd killed her son and now her husband was dying. She was hurt. She was angry. She needed someone to blame. I had become the target of her rage. The thing was, I understood how she felt and why she was angry at me. I didn't want to kill her. If I could, I would rescue Monica without killing Bahara. Life had punished her enough. Wasn't my job to punish her more.

  Alex came back with two pastrami sandwiches, cole slaw, and a half gallon of butter pecan ice cream. I ate half of my sandwich and put the rest in the fridge. Alex ate all of his sandwich and half the Cole slaw. We both had some ice cream.

  Heidi came over right on the dot at ten forty-five. She was wearing jeans and a sweater, a pair of boots. I could see the stress on her face. She was worried.

  Alex was already wearing his shoulder rig. He put the small .357 on his hip. I put my second .357 on my right hip and the Recon knife on my left side. I put my speed loaders on the right side of my belt and put my Kevlar on over my shirt. We each had six plastic wrist restraints, a roll of duct tape, and a small flashlight.

  “Lotta guns,” Heidi said.

  “And hopefully we won't have to use them,” I said.

  I knelt and told Wilson I’d see him later. I hoped that would turn out to be true. He woofed a soft goodbye.

  We left at eleven.

  Chapter 46

  Tuesday Night

  The breeze that had blown most of the day had left the night sky brilliantly clear. The moon was full, so bright that it created shadows. Not optimal conditions for stealth. But it was what we had to work with.

  It took thirty-five minutes to get to Bel Air. Heidi had never been in the area before, so I wanted her to drive around a few minutes and get familiar with the roads that wound through the exclusive neighborhoods. When she felt comfortable, we drove slowly up Stone Canyon Road, past the Durrani house.

  “That's where they're holding Monica?” Heidi asked.

  “Yeah.”

  After a moment she said, “The people in that house have no idea what's coming do they?”

  “They know we’ll be coming,” Alex said.

  “But I don’t think they understand what it’s going to involve,” I said.

  A couple hundred yards beyond the Durranis, Heidi turned around and drove bac
k down Stone Canyon Road, beyond the reservoir, to Sunset and found a place to stop. It was eleven-fifty. Alex's phone rang. It was Kodi.

  “Yeah, we're ready,” Alex said… “Okay, call back when the system is disabled, including the guest house and the safe room door.”

  He clicked off and said, “She said it would only take a few minutes.”

  “This is a good spot for you to wait,” I said to Heidi. “When you drop us off, come back here.”

  “Okay.”

  We waited about five minutes. When Kodi called back, Alex answered and listened.

  “Okay,” he said. “Good job. Stay online and monitor what's happening. Call me if anything unexpected happens.”

  He clicked off.

  “Call you?” I said.

  “I'm turning off the ringer and setting it on vibrate.”

  “Time to go?” Heidi asked.

  “Time to go,” I said.

  She drove casually. We didn't see any police or security patrols.

  “You can let me out about a hundred yards before we get to the house,” I said. “Let Alex out about a hundred yards past the house. Then go up a ways, turn around and go back and wait for thirty minutes. If you haven't heard from either of us in thirty minutes, drive by to see if anything's happening. If you see anything alarming, call the number Alex gave you. If everything looks quiet, go back a wait another fifteen minutes.”

  “And if you haven't called by then?” she asked.

  “Then do another drive-by.”

  “And if everything looks quiet,” she said, “go back and wait again.”

  “Yes.”

  “How many times do we do that routine?”

  “If you haven't heard from me after an hour, even if everything looks quiet when you drive by, call the number Alex gave you.”

  “It's an agent who knows what we're doing,” Alex said. “He'll be able to respond quickly. I gave him your name. Identify yourself and ask him to send help.”

  About a hundred yards from the house, Heidi slowed and I hopped out. She drove on as I hurried to the cover of the trees and shrubs and began making my way up to the Durrani house. I moved as quickly but as quietly as I could, hoping I wouldn't encounter any late night strollers or dog walkers.

  I didn't. I made it to the side of the Durrani house and went over the six-foot wall, dropping down into the manicured expanse of grass that ran the length of the house. It was a large open area, fifty feet wide and a hundred or so feet long. Would have been a nice area for a holiday flag football game.

  I pressed myself against the side of the house and looked around to see if I was visible to people in the house or to neighbors. It didn't look like I was. I made my way to the back edge of the house and peered cautiously into the back yard. It was empty and quiet. It was also beautiful, like a resort. The moonlight glistened off the still waters of the pool, the shrubs swayed gently in the soft warm breeze, the taller trees cast shadows in the moonlight that looked liked creatures of the night emerging from subterranean caverns.

  I watched the guesthouse for a moment. There was no movement inside or out that I could detect. I crouched and scrambled silently across the big patio, around the pool and to the side of the guesthouse. The tennis courts were about a hundred feet across the lawn from the guesthouse. Alex came up beside me about two minutes later.

  “Almost looks like we've got the place to ourselves, doesn't it?” he whispered.

  “Yeah. Doesn't feel right. Come on,” I said softly. “Let's go see if there's a back door to this little cottage.”

  There was. The moon provided enough light that we didn’t need the little flashlights we’d brought. I took out my lock picking tools and went to work. When I got the door open, Alex said, “A minute and thirteen seconds.”

  “What?”

  “That's how long it took you to work the lock. A minute and thirteen seconds.”

  “It's not a competition,” I whispered, as I entered the kitchen gun in hand. Alex followed me in, his .40 caliber out and ready.

  The house was still. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, casting shadows off the expensive traditional furniture. We stood still and listened, straining to hear any sound there might be. There was none. We might as well have been inside a tomb.

  “Split up,” Alex asked, “or stay together?”

  “Let's stay together.”

  We moved cautiously but quickly from room to room on the ground floor, then went silently up the stairs. There were two bedrooms on each side of the stairs. The master suite was straight ahead. A second story bath sat opposite the master suite. We went into the master first. We checked the bedroom itself, the bathroom and the walk-in closet. Empty. We went back to the other bedrooms. Each one was empty. Finally, we checked second bathroom. Also empty.

  “Looks like we're going into the main house,” Alex said, quietly.

  “Looks like.”

  Chapter 47

  Tuesday Night

  We went out of the guesthouse the way we had come in and paused at the back corner of the house to survey the backyard and the back of the main house. Everything was quiet. The breeze still blew, the shrubs still swayed, the trees still cast otherworldly shadows. The main house appeared to be asleep. We moved cautiously toward it.

  I got the back door open, and we went in. Alex closed the door quietly. We were in the kitchen. We stood and listened. Nothing. I put my gun back in my shoulder rig. Alex holstered his as well.

  We headed toward the front of the house and the wide stairway that would take us to the safe room in Mr. Durrani's bedroom. We went from the kitchen into the dining room, into the formal living room and into the entry hub. On one side it opened into a massive family room. On the other side was the stairway to the second floor. Just as we entered the hub, broken nose was coming down the stairs, stepping off the last step. He was wearing workout pants and a tee shirt. We saw each other at the same moment. He didn't seem surprised.

  I reacted without thinking, combat training taking over. He did the same. His first move was a sidekick at my head with his left leg. He was faster than he looked. But not fast enough. I moved my head and shoulders to the right and dropped down. His calf ended up just above my left shoulder. I came up with a hard upper cut to his crotch and then took his right leg from under him. He hit the floor hard. I came back around and came down with a hard right to his already broken nose. I heard a crack and he went limp.

  I rolled him over and put a plastic restraint band on his wrists. Alex put one on his ankles. Alex took his roll of duct tap from the small bag he was carrying and looked at me questioningly. I shook my head. I knew his nose was too messed up to breath through. If we taped his mouth, he'd suffocate.

  I turned his head to the side so he could breathe easier. As I did, there was a noise behind us, a scrape of a foot on the floor. As we turned another man, almost my size was coming at Alex. He, too, was wearing workout pants and a tee shirt. Alex was still squatted on the floor. He put his hands down for balance and put a solid sidekick up into the man's middle as he came at him. Air gushed out of the man as he doubled over. Alex then stood, spun to his right and put a left hook into the side of the man's face. It spun the man around to his left and he was unconscious when he hit the floor. We put restraints on his wrists and ankles and duct tape over his mouth.

  We stood still, waiting and listening. Silence. We moved quickly but quietly up the stairs. At the top landing we paused. Alex was standing next to me. There was no sound. I took a step, and a Middle Eastern man in a black suit stepped out of one of the bedrooms with a gun in his hand. As black suit fired, I dove right, Alex dove left. The first shot missed. He hesitated a second, trying to decide which of us to go for. That second gave us time to react. I had my gun out but was at an awkward angle and didn't yet have a shot. Black suit decided to go for me. As he fired at me, Alex fired at him, two rounds. Black suit's shot hit me high in the left side of my chest, knocking me back against the wall. Fortunate
ly, I was wearing my Kevlar. Alex's shots hit black suit in the chest, knocking him into the wall. He wasn’t wearing Kevlar. He slid down the wall to the floor, leaving a smear of blood on the wall behind him.

  Alex looked at me. I put my hand up and nodded that I was okay as I got to my feet. I'd have a nice bruise on my chest tomorrow. Better than having a hole in it. We stood for a moment, listening. Again, there was no sound. But there should have been. The shots should have alerted the house. Mr. Durrani would have awakened. Mrs. Durrani should have responded. And the young woman, where was she? Something wasn't right. Alex knew it as well. But standing still was not an option. We went down the hall to Mr. Durrani's room.

  His door was open. He lay in his bed. The shots should have awakened him. I motioned for Alex to check him while I stood at the door, watching the hallway. Alex studied him for a brief moment and then touched his head, as if checking his temperature. Then he felt for a pulse.

  “He's dead,” Alex said softly.

  “Something's not right here,” I said.

  Alex nodded toward the walk-in closet. “Check the safe room,” he said.

  I nodded, took one last look down the hallway, and went into the closet.

  The back wall of the closet looked like the normal back wall of a closet. But I knew it wasn't. I examined it and could not see how it opened. I pressed on it. Nothing. Then I pressed on it and slid it to the right. It slid open, revealing a steel door. On the steel door was a numeric keypad and a handle. If Kodi had been able to disable the locking mechanism, the door should simply slide open. I took hold of the handle, pushed it down to the left, and slid the heavy door to the right.

  Behind the door Monica sat in a chair. It was a formal chair, part of a dining room set. Monica's wrists were tied to the arms of the chair. Her ankles were tied to its feet. She was barefoot, and wore a pair of jeans and a tee shirt. A piece of duct tape covered her mouth. To the right was the young woman we'd seen in the house, and whose image had been captured on my security camera as she delivered the third note. She was dressed in black leggings and a black tank top. She held a nine millimeter Glock in her hand, pointed at me. Behind Monica, also with a Glock in her hand, was Bahara Durrani.