Leverage (The Mistaken Series)

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Leverage (The Mistaken Series) Page 27

by Nancy S Thompson


  I glanced over at Conner and raised my brow.

  “All right,” he said then started pulling boxes from the bags.

  I searched the kitchen cabinets and drawers, grabbing a stack of mismatched plates, a handful of forks with bent tines, and a wad of cheap paper napkins. I set everything down next to the food Conner had spread out over the breakfast bar. He opened each box and peered inside, taking inventory. With one of the misshapen forks, he shoveled chow mein onto a cracked plate, while I dug into the large container of steamed rice.

  Conner stopped chewing mid-bite when he heard my fork hit something hard inside the box. “Wha’ wuzzat?” he mumbled.

  I carefully pushed the rice aside and discovered a clear plastic baggie with what looked to be an iPhone stuffed down at the bottom. With a panicked glance at Agent Liam, I raised a finger to my lips, requesting Conner remain silent. Stepping back into the dark corner and turning to face the wall, I pulled the baggie from the rice and examined it more carefully. There was a note inside with a message scrawled across it in thin, black marker.

  Keep your mouth shut if you want to see your wife again.

  Phone’s on silent. Text message is waiting.

  My heart went into overdrive, pounding so hard, I thought it would leap straight out through my mouth. Silently, and with his plate still in his hands, Conner stepped backwards until we stood shoulder to shoulder. He glanced over, his eyes widening when he saw the baggie with the note and phone inside. Our eyes met, and I recognized in him the same alarm I felt inside myself. He nodded once, indicating I should proceed, then positioned his body so Agent Liam couldn’t see me should he suddenly turn around.

  I pulled the note and phone out, tossing the baggie away and rereading the note before I stuffed into my pants pocket. With trembling fingers, I pressed the home button on the front of the phone then slid my thumb across the glass when the homescreen appeared, terrified it might be a trick and explode in my hand. The normal assortment of symbols emerged on the lighted display, including the green messages icon with a small, red alert badge floating over its top right corner. The little, white number one seemed to scream at me, and my thrashing heart jumped up and lodged at the base of my throat. I tapped the icon and the app opened to a single text message.

  At the top of the screen was the sender’s name—Aaron Moody. I sucked in a breath so harsh, it made me start to cough. Conner dropped his fork onto his plate with a clang then rushed to the far counter when the recliner’s footrest snapped down with a loud pop. I turned toward the family room as I shoved the phone into my back pocket.

  “That bad, huh?” Agent Liam laughed as he sprang from his seat. He walked over to the bar. “What do we have here?” he asked, grabbing a fork and rifling through the collection of boxes. He dumped a selection of food onto a plate then raised his eyes and started searching around the kitchen counter. “No rice?” he asked as he flicked on the overhead light. “That douchebag O’Day,” he grumbled then halted when he discovered the box of rice on the countertop behind my back. “There it is,” he rallied as he reached for the container.

  With my back to the counter, I shuffled to the opposite corner in the U-shaped kitchen and dipped my head to hide the flash of red scorching a path across my face.

  Conner caught my eye then jumped in, blurting, “Sorry, my bad,” over a mouthful of food.

  Liam waved him off as he heaped a spoonful of rice onto his plate. Once he had everything he wanted, he went back to the recliner. He popped the footrest back up, balanced the plate of food against his chest, and started shoveling food into his mouth.

  I moved back into the other corner. Conner took up his position as shield while I pulled the phone from my pocket and opened the text app, my heart skipping as blood rushed through my ears in a loud torrent. There was a single, brief message on the left side of the screen:

  “Keep this phone hidden and on silent. Text back immediately.”

  I nudged Conner and showed him the message. He looked back at me with his brow drawn tightly together.

  “What the fuck?” he mouthed silently.

  I shrugged then leaned in and whispered in his ear, “Go sit and eat with Liam, chat him up, keep him occupied. I’ll go to the bathroom and answer this.”

  Conner joined Agent Ford in the family room where he struck up a conversation on the lack of believability of the show he was watching. They started to argue amicably while I excused myself for the restroom.

  As soon as I was locked in, I began to text whoever had sent me the message:

  Me: Who is this?

  Them: Never mind. RU alone?

  Me: Yes. Let me speak to my wife.

  Them: Shut up and listen. Find a way 2 get 2 ur office.

  Me: What? How the hell am I supposed to do that?

  Them: Not my problem.

  Me: You’re insane!

  Them: U want ur wife back? Figure it out. What is ur office alarm code?

  Me: What? Why?

  Them: Ur alarm code, please. I will meet U inside. No FBI. U have 2 hrs.

  Me: And if I don’t make it?

  Them: Then kiss ur wife and child goodbye.

  I balked for a moment then finally texted back.

  Me: Fine. 48913290 Then press *

  Them: Very good, Mr. Karras. You have 2 hrs. Tick tock...

  Tick tock? That was an expression Alexi had used on me four years ago, a number of times, urging me to hurry if I wanted to save my brother’s life. I nearly threw the phone against the wall as I swore a litany of profanities under my breath. Fuck! How the hell was I supposed to get to my office without the FBI while under the FBI’s protection? There was no way! I began to pace the small confines of the bathroom. From the door to the tub, it was only three short steps, hardly enough space to think, to plan, to scheme my way out.

  I shoved the phone back into my rear pocket and leaned both hands on the edge of the pedestal sink. I turned the faucet knob and splashed cold water onto my face, then stared long and hard at my reflection in the mirror above. “I thought I fucking buried you,” I said to myself as the water rushed loudly down the drain.

  I dropped my chin and squeezed my eyes shut as that old monster down deep inside growled and writhed, seethed and simmered, as it tried to crawl its way back up, to take control, all consequences be damned. My fists clenched tight at my side as I fought the urge to just let it go, run free and rampant, to do whatever it took to get my wife and child back.

  Years ago, after losing everything, I swore I would never allow myself to lose control ever again, to cross that line and step over into the dark side. Why was the universe so intent on my complete, utter damnation? It wasn’t fair. Why should I have to play nice when every force in existence seemed bent on my destruction? How was I supposed to compete? Evil always seemed to have the upper hand in my battles, and the playing field was anything but level.

  I sighed deeply, those old feelings of defeat swamping me like a storm surge. I couldn’t outrun it. I couldn’t fend it off. I could only raise myself high enough that it couldn’t reach me. I looked myself in the eye again and took a deep breath. I’d have to find a way to get through this, to beat it, to prove I was the man Hannah believed me to be. I’d be stronger for her than I’d been for Jillian. I’d be a better father for this child than I’d been for the last.

  I just needed to find a way.

  A knock at the door startled me. “You okay in there?” Agent Liam asked.

  “Um…yeah.” I pulled the hem of my t-shirt down low and patted the phone in my pocket. With one last deep breath, I opened the door and faced Agent Liam. “Sorry,” I said. “Too nervous to eat, I guess.”

  He nodded, but seemed suspicious, his eyes quickly scanning me then the bathroom beyond before stepping aside with his arm out to let me pass. When I returned to the family room, I saw Agent O’Day helping himself to the food, while Conner was back twitching on the sofa. Liam walked to the e
ntry hall and shrugged into a trench coat, ready to take his turn on watch outside while his partner ate. Before he could open the door, I held up a hand.

  “Agent Ford, would you hold up for a second, please?” I turned toward O’Day as he crammed a forkful of noodles into his mouth. “I need to talk to both of you, if you don’t mind.”

  Liam stepped back into the room while O’Day continued to satisfy his hunger.

  “Um…I need to drive to my office. I have some things I need to get from my safe before you move us.”

  “No fucking way,” O’Day choked out as small bits of food flew from his mouth.

  I stepped toward him. “Look, I’ve always known this could happen, that we might be uprooted with little or no notice. I prepared for it. I have cash, account numbers and access codes, everything we might need. I just need to get it out.”

  I looked from O’Day to Liam and back. They exchanged glances. Liam shrugged his indifference, but O’Day shook his head.

  “You give us the combination,” he said, “and we’ll send someone over.”

  “No fucking way,” I mimicked. “There’s way too much money in there, sensitive paperwork, access to every dime I have on this earth. No way I’m letting you guys have access to it. Just let me run over and pick it up. I’ll be less than an hour.”

  O’Day laughed like I was crazy for even asking. “Not gonna happen, my friend,” he reiterated and dove in for a second helping.

  I surged into the kitchen and up into his face which stood a couple inches lower than mine. He wasn’t deterred and simply continued to chew his food with an annoying grin.

  “Get Sidorov on the phone, right now,” I ordered, as was my right, as Maks had directed before he left. When neither O’Day nor Ford made a move to call, I spun around and stormed toward the front door. “We’re out of here if you don’t get Sidorov on the goddamn phone right fucking now.”

  Conner jumped to his feet, his cast cradled in his hand. His jaw ticked as his gaze swept between the three of us. Finally, Agent Ford pulled out his mobile and placed a call. While O’Day stood rigid and tight-lipped in the kitchen, Liam calmly explained to Sidorov my request and sense of urgency, as well as my threat to leave, regardless of whether I had permission or not. I wasn’t their prisoner, he explained.

  When Maks asked to speak with me directly, Liam held out the phone. With a nod of thanks, I accepted and began to hash out the details, until we hit a snag.

  “Give me O’Day and leave Liam here with Conner,” I suggested.

  “Negative,” Maks asserted. “I want you all together.”

  My heart ticked up. I didn’t want Conner anywhere near whoever I was supposed to meet. “Come on, Maks. He’ll be safer tucked away here.”

  “There’s safety in numbers, Karras. It’s all or nothing. Take it or leave it.”

  I snickered. “You’re just full of clichés, aren’t you, Maks.” I sighed at his silence. “Fine,” I ultimately agreed, but rejected the notion that they should accompany me into my office. Invoking my right to privacy, I would go in alone while the agents stood guard out front. “Ten, fifteen minutes top,” I promised.

  “What are you up to Karras,” Sidorov wondered aloud. He knew me too well.

  “I’ve always worried this would happen, Maks, but I won’t live at the mercy or good grace of the FBI again. I have my own funds, immediate cash and untraceable offshore accounts, passports, new IDs, everything we’ll need. I might have to live by your rules, but it’ll be on my terms.”

  “You have one hour,” he replied then paused. “We’re getting close, Ty. It’s coming together. We’re gonna get these guys.”

  “Just bring her back to me, Maks, that’s all I ask.”

  I handed the phone back to Liam, who confirmed his orders then hung up and explained to an unhappy Agent O’Day exactly what was going to happen.

  CHAPTER 41

  Tyler

  With Agent Liam in the front seat next to him, Agent O’Day drove Conner and me over to my office in the Cascade neighborhood of South Lake Union. The night was cold, and a light rain misted the car windows of O’Day’s dark blue Crown Victoria. The only sounds filling the small space were the intermittent scrape and stutter of the windshield wipers and my occasional voicing of directions.

  I pointed to the small, empty parking lot outside the main office of my general contracting business. O’Day drove around the building, performing what he called a perimeter check. At half-past midnight, the area proved clear of any vehicles aside from my company trucks, and not one light illuminated a single window in the forty-year-old three-story building.

  “Park over there.” I pointed to a bank of stalls near the front door of my office suite.

  I swung my head around, searching for dark figures in the bushes and windows, nervous that whoever had summoned me here would be angry that I hadn’t been able to shake my FBI escort. But I didn’t see anyone on the property, just a vagrant as he walked by on the sidewalk. O’Day and Ford both jumped out of the car, their hands instinctively drawn to their sidearms beneath their trench coats.

  “I’m going in with you,” Conner whispered before I could follow the agents out.

  “Like hell you are,” I replied, but he ignored me, opened the door, and stepped out. I hopped out after all three and caught up.

  With careful glances up and down the front of the building, both agents closed the short distance between the car and the entry to my front office. O’Day put his hand up to the dark glass of the front door and peered inside, shifting his head around to see past the hand-painted lettering. He took a step back and gestured toward my company signage.

  “Why Gold Coast?” he asked, referring to the name. “Ain’t that California?”

  “Queensland, actually, Australia,” I replied then waved him off when his brow rose in question. “Just a place my brother and I used to go to on holiday before I left home. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” I pointed to the keyless security pad mounted on the wall next to the door.

  O’Day stepped aside, and, positioning my body to hide the keypad, I punched in the code. The system beeped three times, and I pulled the front door open, but before I could walk through, O’Day shoved me aside and pushed his way in, gun drawn.

  “Stay here,” he ordered.

  “Wait!” I hissed. “Maks said—”

  “I don’t care what Maks said. He ain’t here, and I’m the one responsible, so I go in first, or you don’t go in at all. Got that?” he said and proceeded without waiting for my rebuttal.

  I held my breath while O’Day performed a cursory search, terrified someone would jump out of the shadows and do God-knows-what. Conner turned his back to the door and leaned his head in close.

  “You either insist I come with you,” he demanded, “or I tell those agents about the phone.” He looked me in the eye. “I’m not gonna be left in the dark, not anymore.”

  I clenched my jaw tight and glanced over at Liam who had his back to me as he scanned the area outside. I hadn’t had the opportunity to explain the exchange of text messages or the real reason we were even there. “It’s too dangerous, Conner. I don’t know who’s in there. This isn’t a game. You’re putting your mother at—”

  O’Day crashed back through the lobby doors, stuffing his sidearm back into its holster. “All clear,” he said. “Now go do your thing, and hurry it up. We ain’t got much time.”

  “Agent O’Day—” Conner blurted.

  But I held my hand out between them. “Conner’s coming in with me. I need an extra pair of hands if I’m going to do this quickly.”

  “Dream on, killer. The kid stays. You go do what you’re told.”

  “We’re not your goddamn prisoners,” I seethed.

  He chuckled. “Says who?”

  Liam stepped in. “Rick, back off. The quicker they get in, the sooner we all get out.”

  O’Day rolled his eyes, but made no further com
ment.

  With a quick nod, I motioned for Conner, and we bee-lined straight down the short hall to my office. I closed and locked the door behind us and finally let out a strong gust of pent-up air. I twisted the blinds shut on the sidelight and door then switched my dim desk lamp on instead of the bright overhead lights. I looked around, unsure of how to proceed, wondering who I was meeting and when they’d make themselves known. The door to my adjoining conference room stood ajar, the space beyond dark and quiet. I poked my head through, surveyed the area, and nearly jumped out of my skin when a dark form popped out from behind the tall vertical rack of floor plans hanging in the corner.

  The figure sauntered toward me slowly, almost casually. I backed up into my office, careful to keep myself between Conner and the unknown shadow approaching us. The door opened wide and a man walked through, the dull light cascading over his features and exposing his identity. Conner sucked in a loud hiss.

  “Greg! You fuck!” he exclaimed and rushed into my back, trying to get around me. “Where the hell are my mother and Katy? I swear to God—”

  “Conner,” I warned as I pushed back his advance. “Let me handle this.”

  “Oh, isn’t that sweet,” Greg drawled. “Stepdaddy to the rescue. He sure likes to play superhero, this one. Too bad he can’t follow simple instructions.”

  “It’s the best I could do,” I retorted.

  “And yet, somehow, that’s not quite good enough.”

  “Can we just get on with this?” I implored. “We don’t have much time.”

  “Well, I’ll be quick then,” he said. “We’ve a very important meeting to get to, after all.”

  Conner and I exchanged nervous glances before I snorted at Greg. “You’re crazy if you think those agents will let us out of their sight.”

  With a raised brow, Greg pulled his chin in tight. “But…they already have,” he replied then shot me a grin so evil, my stomach clenched.

  The horrific image of Aaron’s ravaged, headless body floated up before me. If he could do that, then…

 

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