by Loye, Trish
Something wasn’t right. He briefly debated whether to let her know he was there, but shot the idea down. She obviously didn’t want to be followed, with her poor attempt at a disguise.
Where would she be bringing her micro-bugs? Did her team already know what she was doing and her location? He frowned, scanning the hall of the Underground they walked down. He couldn’t see Cat or anyone else watching Charlie.
Tourist shops, magazine kiosks, and cafes crowded the pedestrian tunnel between stations. Heat stifled the flow of air and the humidity gave new meaning to the words concrete jungle.
He hated the Underground, but at least it wasn’t summer. The heat during the summer months was a test even for him, bringing back memories of a particularly rigorous ruck march through the Panama jungle.
The thought of his former life in the SAS had him clenching his jaw. He’d trained himself so well not to think of it, to not identify himself any longer as one of the most elite special operations units in the world, especially since he’d left in shame. But every now and then a moment came, when a memory or a thought slipped by his rigid control and the pain of what he’d lost hurt worse than a bullet.
Charlie hurried up a set of stairs ahead of him. He shook off his memories, shoving them back and deep down. He had no time for them. He wasn’t that man anymore and he never would be again, no matter how much he wanted to be. His team had died because he hadn’t recognized the trap they’d walked into.
There was no going back.
But today. Now. He had a job to do. He no longer served to protect Queen and Country, but maybe he could help protect this slip of a woman.
He raced up the steps and just caught a glimpse of her opening the door to a pub and entering. The phone was still at her ear. She no longer looked behind her at all, and he didn’t try to hide the fact that he followed her. He only waited a beat before entering the pub.
A bell on the door rang when he walked in. Like most pubs, this one had a long bar at the back of the room, with booths along the walls and wooden tables scattered throughout the floor. Unlike most pubs, however, this one was well-lit, showcasing the gleaming wood of the bar and tables. A waitress approached with a friendly smile on her face.
“Table or bar?” she asked.
He scanned the room, not seeing Charlie.
“I’m looking for a woman. Jeans and a black fleece,” he said.
“Bathroom,” the waitress said. “Can I set the two of you up at a table?”
“Give us a minute,” he said, moving past her to the back. The hall was dark, with doors to the men’s and ladies’. A door to the outside at the end of the hall swung shut.
Dammit, where was she going? What game was this?
He cracked the back door before opening it.
Charlie stood by a black sedan, holding the briefcase to her chest and speaking to someone in the back seat. The driver was the pale-skinned redhead from the attack. He wore sunglasses, and surveyed the alley. If Jack stepped out, Red would see him.
Charlie held the briefcase against her chest. “Where’s my aunt?”
Jack tensed. Her aunt was missing? Was she going to trade her tech for her aunt? Fuck. Where was her backup?
The back door of the car opened and Charlie glanced up and down the street before stepping toward it. Bollocks—she was going to get inside. If she had no backup here, that meant she’d slipped away from her team. If they left in the car, he would have no way of following her.
He wished he had a weapon with him, but since he’d been out running he hadn’t even brought his phone. He weighed the pros and cons in a split second before throwing the door wide and stepping out into the alley.
“Get away from the car, Charlie.”
12
Charlie’s gaze snapped toward Jack as he stepped out of the back door of the pub and into the alley. He was in black running shorts, sneakers, and a faded gray T-shirt. He was all hard muscle, sheer power, and fierce protectiveness. Her heart flipped just a little before her brain squashed it. This wasn’t good. He’d obviously been out running and spotted her.
“Get away from the car, Charlie,” Jack ordered, his gaze on the men inside the vehicle.
“We told you to come alone,” hissed the man in the shadows of the back seat. She already knew it was Tom from the stairwell attack. “I’ll kill him if he tries anything.”
The driver, whom she still thought of as Freckles, had a swollen and crooked nose. She bet his sunglasses hid black eyes. He held a gun on his lap and his lip curled as he watched Jack come closer.
She whirled to Jack. “Stay back.”
But he didn’t listen, just kept approaching with deadly purpose. Freckles lifted his weapon, keeping it trained on Jack.
“Get rid of him, Dr. Singh,” Tom said. “Or we will.”
“Jack, stop. Please!” She held up one hand. The other still clutched her briefcase. Charlie’s gut twisted at the thought of him being shot because he wanted to help her.
Jack slowed, raising his empty hands to the car before stopping. He was five feet from Charlie.
“Jack, why’d you have to follow me?”
“Because you needed me to.”
Something inside her responded to his words and his gruff matter-of-fact tone. He’d come to help her. Because that’s what he did. Who he was.
But he couldn’t help her. He would only get himself killed.
“You have to leave,” she said quietly.
He shook his head, but kept his gaze on the men in the car. “I can’t do that, Charlie. I won’t do that. Besides, I don’t think these blokes will just let me walk away.”
She wanted to growl at him for putting himself in this situation, but she also felt a bit lighter that he’d come to help her, that she had someone to share this miserable situation with.
“Dr. Singh, I’m very disappointed. You were told to come alone,” Tom said. Then he raised his voice. “If either of you tries anything while my partner checks you for weapons, I will shoot Dr. Singh in the head. I’m a very good shot.”
Freckles stepped out of the car, his gun trained on Jack. He almost ignored Charlie. For a brief moment she wondered if it was because she was a woman, or because she was short. Or probably because the last time he’d seen Jack, he’d gotten his face pummeled.
It didn’t matter, as long as he kept thinking of her as non-threatening. Being underestimated was her best advantage. She was close enough to Freckles to strike the gun out of his hands, but she wouldn’t because she needed to be brought to her aunt.
And not doing anything at this point only cemented his underestimation of her.
Freckles slid his gun into a hip holster and took out an electronic wand. “Remember. She dies if you move.”
“I heard,” Jack growled and lifted his arms out to his sides. Freckles waved the wand over Jack.
“By the way,” Jack said, “how’s the face?”
Freckles cursed Jack, but didn’t turn his back on him when he approached Charlie. She was glad she’d gotten rid of her tracker. Once he’d pocketed her gun, he took the phone they’d given her and dropped it to the ground before smashing it with the heel of his boot. “Can’t have anyone trying to track us that way.”
She was embarrassed that she hadn’t even thought of it. Not that it would have mattered, but she really wasn’t thinking. Her mind was her biggest advantage and she needed to start using it.
“Get in the car,” Freckles said, gesturing with his gun. “Both of you.”
Jack looked at her, a question in his eyes.
What should they do? She had no doubts that neither Tom nor Freckles were actually Spider. But they needed to go with the pair to get to him.
Or it could just be a ploy. If they both went, Spider might kill them and her aunt as well. Should she try to make Jack stay behind, or was it too late at this point?
“Get. In.” Freckles jerked his chin toward the car, but his gun didn’t waver from Jack.
Th
ey couldn’t get out of this now. She nodded at Jack. “Let’s go.”
He nodded back.
“You’re riding shotgun,” Freckles said to Jack before glancing at her. “Get in the back.”
She eyed the dark interior and the man who waited there. The glint of metal flashed. He had a weapon trained on her. She swallowed. Jack’s appearance had made everything worse. She had to take control. She consciously lowered the briefcase so she no longer hugged it to her chest, and slid onto the back seat.
Tom kept his hair clipped short and his goatee neat. His dark suit bunched from being too tight. It had probably looked good when he’d stood in front of the mirror. It struck her as odd that a criminal would also be a fashionista, but that’s what Tom looked like. Maybe it helped him blend.
“You good back there, Tom?” Freckles asked as he slid in the front.
Jack looked back at her, silently asking her the same question. She nodded. Jack’s face held grim acknowledgement. They could take these two goofballs, but that wouldn’t get them any closer to the endgame.
Or her aunt.
“Good,” Tom said. “Let’s go. We’re late already.”
“Where are you—” Jack said.
Freckles swung a fist at Jack. “Shut-”
Jack caught his hand and held it silently in a grip. Freckles looked at him and tugged at his hand. Jack didn’t release it. “Tom—”
“Just drive,” Tom said, his voice vibrating with anger. He spoke to Charlie and Jack. “Don’t move. Either of you. If you do, I’m going to shoot the other one.”
Jack had already released Freckles and faced forward. He spared a small glance at Charlie, one so full of meaning that she couldn’t decipher it.
* * *
They drove eastward for about twenty minutes, the streets and houses looking more and more unkempt. Freckles pulled the car into an empty spot in front of a three-story stone building. A faded sign out front said Anders and Grant, Barristers. Weeds grew between the stone building and the sidewalk. A For Sale sign hung in a cracked window.
Tom hadn’t taken his eyes off her. And she needed him to. “How’re you feeling?” she asked. “Sometimes a jolt like that can cause brain damage.”
He bared his teeth at her and she slowly slid her hand into her messenger bag.
“Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.” He kept his gun pointed at the back of Jack’s head. “Or your boyfriend is eating a bullet.”
Jack turned his head and caught her gaze.
She prayed this wasn’t just a ploy to get her and her micro-bugs away from the conference. Would they kill her, Jack, and her aunt, and then steal her work? Had she led Jack into a trap? She tightened her grip on her briefcase.
Of course she had. But now wasn’t the time for recriminations.
She had to figure a way out for both of them.
They got out of the car. Freckles kept his gun trained on Jack while Tom kept his on Charlie.
“When we get out of this, you’re going to tell me what’s going on,” Jack asked quietly.
“Shut it,” Tom said.
She caught Jack’s gaze and nodded. If they got out of this, then he deserved to know.
They stopped at the glass door to the building. Freckles waved at a new-looking security camera above the door and a click from the lock signaled him to move forward to open the door.
He waved them forward. “It’s our building. No one will help you inside. Turn right and go to the second door.”
“Is Spider in there?”
“Spider?” Jack asked, his voice low and dangerous sounding.
Freckles gestured with his gun. “Just do what I fucking say.”
She frowned, but stepped into the building with Jack following. They stood in a dust-covered foyer. Dull wood wainscoting covered the walls, and a bare reception desk guarded the inner halls. The silence sat heavy on them.
“You’re after Spider?” Jack asked her.
“You know who that is?”
He nodded. “We definitely need to talk when this is over.” He slid a glance behind them. “Why would they leave us on our own?”
She pushed her emotions down and analyzed. “Either it’s a trap and they intend to kill us, or they’re very sure of their security measures around my aunt.”
“We’ll get her out,” Jack said in a near-inaudible whisper. “We won’t leave without her.”
His reassurance helped. She lifted her chin. “Let’s go.”
Behind the reception area was a hallway. They took the right corridor and stopped at the second door. Jack moved in front of her. She frowned.
“Let me,” he insisted. And before she could protest, he cracked the door and peeked through. Then he widened it and walked in.
An office, not overly large and completely empty except for a card table set up by one wall. An open laptop sat on it. The screen flared to life when they walked in the room. It only showed white at the moment. A wall?
“Finally,” the digital combination of voices said, emanating from the laptop. “I’m an impatient man. You’ll soon learn not to keep me waiting.”
This had to be Spider. Charlie scowled at the screen, seeing the light beside the laptop’s camera blink. He was watching them.
“Ah, and you brought a friend. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You’ll be punished for that,” he said. “Or rather, your dear auntie will.”
The image on the screen swiveled and settled. She gasped. It was the same image she’d gotten on her phone. Her aunt tied to a chair, still in her sari, but now the feed was live. Aunt G glared at someone just off camera, mumbling something through her gag.
“Bua!”
Her aunt jerked and looked straight at them on the screen. Her eyes widened, and she shook her head frantically.
“It’s okay.” Charlie walked toward the screen. “We’re going to get you out.”
Her aunt continued to shake her head, speaking against the gag, but Charlie couldn’t understand her.
“Show me your micro-bugs,” Spider said.
Charlie lifted her case and unlocked it. She tilted it toward the camera. “Now let my aunt go.”
He laughed and a chill crawled over her as the digitized voices echoed through the room, first pitched high, then low, young and old, male and female. Jack stared hard at the screen, seemingly immune to the voices and the situation.
“Let her go,” Charlie demanded, “or I won’t give you the micro-bugs.”
“You don’t have any leverage, Dr. Singh. Here is what is going to happen. You will keep one bug with you. Place it so I can see what you see and hear what you hear. The controls and the rest you will give to my employees waiting outside.”
“Then you’ll release my aunt?”
“Oh no,” he said. “Then you will complete the next task for me.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” she said. “I’m not doing anything else for you.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “It seems a demonstration is in order.”
Two men in dark clothing, black gloves, and black balaclavas walked on screen. One held a pair of bolt cutters in his hand.
Charlie’s stomach dropped. She glanced at Jack, who’d taken a step toward the laptop.
“Stop,” Jack said. “You don’t have to do this.”
Do what? she asked herself, her mind unwilling to comprehend what was going on. Her aunt started to struggle in her chair and her mumblings turned to muffled yelling.
“What are you doing?” Charlie said. “Stop!”
“I’m teaching you a necessary lesson.” The multitude of voices sighed, and she wanted to snatch the laptop up and throw it across the room. “Don’t disobey me again.”
“Again?” she said. “I’ve done everything you asked.”
“You brought your boyfriend with you.”
“Not her fault,” Jack said quickly. “I followed her.”
“I don’t care,” Spider said. “The aunt will be punished. Hold out her
hand.”
One of the men grabbed her aunt’s arm and forced her to spread her fingers. The other man switched to a two-handed grip on the bolt cutters.
Fear clenched Charlie’s insides as she realized what they intended. “No!”
Her aunt shrieked through the gag.
“We might want to hear what she’s saying,” Spider’s many voices said. “Remove her gag.”
One man yanked down the gag. Her aunt whimpered. “Please don’t do this.” Her wide-eyed gaze followed the bolt cutters. “Please. Please.”
“It’s not us that’s doing it. It’s your beloved niece,” Spider said.
They forced her aunt to spread the fingers of her left hand. Charlie dropped her briefcase and went right up to the laptop. “Stop! Don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want. Anything!”
“Yes,” Spider said. “You will.”
Her aunt began to scream when the second man set the bolt cutters around her pinkie finger.
“I said I’d do anything,” she yelled. “Stay away from her! Please!”
Helpless she watched, even as the many digital voices laughed.
Even as her aunt continued to scream and sob.
Even as the one man heaved and snapped together the two arms of the bolt cutters.
Her aunt shrieked, a painful high-pitched cry that rent the air and slashed at her.
“I’m sorry,” Charlie whispered, her throat constricting, tears welling. She felt like she was fracturing. Nausea rose and she swallowed back bile when she saw the blood spurting from her aunt’s finger. Her aunt’s sobs and gasping breaths were the only sound in the room.
Why had she let her aunt stay in London? This was her fault. Her aunt was in this position because of her.
“Follow my instructions exactly next time,” Spider said. “Or she’ll lose the whole hand next.”
Rage exploded in her. “You fucking asshole. I’m going to kill you.”
“You can try. But for now I need you to hand your micro-bugs to my colleagues outside. Except for the one you keep. You will have that one with you at all times. I want to be able to hear and see everything you’re doing, Dr. Singh.”
Her hands had fisted on the laptop. “But what more do you want? Why don’t you release my aunt?”
