by Wendy Byrne
Her fingers trembled as she strummed the handle of the gun. Waiting was the difficult part. Not being in control was the really hard part. Sitting blind, letting her ears tell the tale was excruciating. How many times had she been in the same predicament with her brothers, and it had never felt good. Her heart tripped and started inside her chest more times than she could contemplate.
Every impulse inside wanted her to break out from beneath the blanket as Kane continued to act the part of feeble farmer, especially when they described her in detail to him. Being played by someone she'd called a friend wasn't something she relished. Then again, it proved her theory of never putting herself in a position of vulnerability, or relying on anyone but herself. Or her brothers.
They were survivors, pure and simple. Nothing could ever change their legacy.
Finally, she heard a car engine roar to life after one of the men called him a "schwachen alten Mann," a "feeble old man" in German. She barely suppressed the chuckle as she emerged from beneath the cover.
"Oscar-worthy performance, Kane."
"It was, even if I do say so myself." He brushed his knuckles against his chest and helped her back into the seat. "I'm assuming you heard most of what they said?"
"Sure did."
"They showed me a picture of you as well. Definitely taken within the last couple of days, since your hair was short. They also had a photo of me. We're both wanted for Marco's murder, which only confirms what we already knew. So despite what you think about this crappy truck, it seemed to fool them."
She sat on the seat and tapped an anxious finger against the dashboard. "I'm worried about Antonio. He's going to know I had help getting away, since the motorcycle is still at his house. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out it was from you. We've got to get out of the area as quickly as possible."
The words were barely out of her mouth when a car barreled toward them. It was dark and sleek and looked suspiciously like the others they'd seen.
"This can't be good."
"Take the next turn. We'll head toward the town with the train station. Hopefully we'll beat them there and we can lose them on foot." She handed him back his phone. "The next train is in two hours."
"They'll be all over the train station. Sounds risky."
"Do I look like a gal who's afraid of risks?" She gave him a cheeky smile even while fear traveled down her back.
* * *
As far as plans went, hers pretty much sucked. But since Kane couldn't think of anything better, he hit the gas and hoped they'd make it into the town before the bad guys figured anything out.
"Grab the stuff and we'll try to blend in." He figured she was pretty much a sitting duck, and keeping to the periphery might be their best bet for now. It appeared to be a tourist town, based on the people milling about and the number of souvenir shops. The town included a bustling market and a terraced hillside, including what looked to be homes built a couple hundred years ago. Given the terrain and the number of people, they had half a chance of pulling this off.
"I guess we're lucky it's Saturday," she said. To his surprise, she grabbed his hand as they walked. The tremble in her fingers shot straight through his arm. She might talk tough and put up a great front, but it was all for show.
"Let's try to find a place where we can hunker down. The station is a little too obvious to be safe."
"We don't have too much time to kill." Despite her words, the wide-eyed expression told him more about the fear she felt than she'd ever admit.
Not that he blamed her. To his way of thinking, five minutes was too much time, knowing there were four cars with guys hunting them down. He raised his hand and pointed toward what appeared to be abandoned houses set into the hills. "I'll grab some stuff for us to eat and meet you back there. I can't guarantee they haven't put notices up about us all over town, so best for you to keep a low profile."
"I'll be fine." She patted her backpack and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
As he walked away, he felt the hint of trouble circling the air. All he kept thinking about was that they'd sent four cars.
The uptick in pressure had to mean that he and Sabrina were on to something, or at least somebody thought they were. Either way, it didn't matter. Both scenarios were bad news in terms of their current predicament as well as anything else going forward. They weren't safe now and wouldn't be until Trinity was behind bars.
As he strolled the small market, he couldn't help but think about the look on her face when she recognized the truth of Antonio's betrayal. In that half-second or so, she couldn't hide the evidence from her expression. He'd seen hurt quickly replaced by anger reflected in her eyes. She wasn't nearly as tough as she thought she was; then again, neither was he.
Kane sifted through the options for sustenance and selected some fruit and cheese as well as bread, and stuffed the bag inside his backpack. Despite the urge to return to her as quickly as possible, he plodded his way back toward Sabrina using his best old-man shuffle to avoid attracting undue attention. Suppressing the nerves running up and down his spine was the difficult part. It was only a matter of time before whoever was in those cars came looking for them.
As he turned the corner, he spotted a black car roll into town. Considering the later model, he had to assume it was part of the group they were trying to avoid. He tempered his pulse, which threatened to compromise his old-man hobble, and headed toward Sabrina.
Except when he got there, she was nowhere to be found.
* * *
Sabrina peered around the corner of the outbuilding and fought back the fear inching through her body. The prickle seemed to zero in on the base of her skull and project through every vein and artery in her head. They were not playing.
Two black cars cruised through the small town at a rate of speed that belied their intent. They were going so slowly that even people walking were moving faster.
She was seriously screwed. And so was Kane.
Coming here had been a mistake. Dragging him into her mess was another mistake. When would she learn? She pushed back the nagging thought of so many years ago and tried to blend into the scenery as much as possible.
Finally, she spotted Kane doing the fast version of the old-man shuffle. He must have gone to their agreed-upon spot and found her missing. But if she got too close to him, he'd be made as well. She needed to keep her distance until the men left.
She ducked into the shadow of a doorway and held her breath as the car rolled past. The rapid beat of her pulse began to pound in her ears as adrenaline, combined with increased blood flow, wound its way through her. When they rolled past Kane, she unzipped her bag and fingered the trigger on the gun.
Even though he feigned obliviousness, she knew him better than to be fooled by his casual stance. When he shifted the pack from his shoulder to his hand, she knew he was readying to shoot his way out of the mess if need be. Still, she couldn't help but admire his acting chops. If she didn't know better—
A plastic bag came over her head noiselessly while men surrounded her on both sides, grabbing her arms and wrapping them behind her back in what felt like industrial-strength bungee cords. Her feet were lethal, but not without leverage, and not without her ability to breathe. While she struggled to suck in air, a voice whispered in her ear as he pulled her along, "We've heard about you and aren't taking any chances." The sinister laugh that followed caused her mind to freefall.
Suck it up.
Wheeze. Instead of air, plastic hit her gaping mouth. Dizziness set in as spots vibrated before her eyes. It wouldn't be long before it was over.
The ping of a bullet sounded and the guy holding her on the left dropped away with a curse. She was too out of it to react until the tight grip on the bag loosened, freeing up some much-needed oxygen. A slip of air hit her nostrils, bringing with it a sense of awareness. She twisted her head, hoping to get the bag off her head. It wasn't working, but air was swirling underneath, giving her what she craved.
Another
bullet sounded close enough for the guy on the right to bring her in front of him. Using him for leverage, and feeling a surge of strength, she stomped on his instep and dove left. Seconds later, another shot rang out.
Her shoulder hit the hard ground. Ouch.
"Sabrina, are you okay?" Kane didn't wait for an answer and yanked the plastic bag from her head, as he alternated between swearing and clucking like a little old lady. Somewhere along the way—she couldn't say when—he'd dropped the disguise. He made fast work of the things binding her arms and wrapped himself around her.
She worked her shoulder up and down and was glad she hadn't dislocated it. "How did you find me?"
"Dumb luck. I saw them park the car and get out and thought I should investigate."
A shiver wound through her. "When those guys don't respond, they'll send more."
"That's what I'm thinking too."
"The train's not due for another twenty minutes." She chewed her lip. Even while the craving for oxygen had subsided, her brain still flashed panic.
"Let's hide out until night when we can walk to the next station to throw them off." His voice was tight, his jaw clenched. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and tucked her in close.
An inner wuss she didn't know existed didn't fight the contact. Memories from long ago tickled at the base of her brain but stubbornly refused to surface.
As they trudged silently up the century-old village steps, two men emerged around the corner of one of the buildings to point guns at them. With nowhere to duck and hide, they raised their arms in capitulation—at least for now. She knew Kane well enough to know he wouldn't go down easy, and neither would she.
"You're coming with us." The men spoke in German as they motioned with the tips of their guns to a point higher, where the likelihood of being spotted by a villager was even more remote. One guy was freakishly tall, with long, gangly arms. He moved behind Kane, forcing him forward. The other was about a foot shorter, with a mustache, and stepped in line behind her.
The men had every intention of killing them. She had no doubt about that. But first they needed to find out what she and Kane knew so they could report back to Trinity.
She knew Kane was thinking the same thing: they would use him to get to her and vice versa. In her estimation, that was a losing proposition. It would take a whole lot for either one of them to give in. They were alike in so many ways.
But she had no intention of getting to that point. And, she suspected, neither did Kane. Once they got to the torture thing, it was a vicious cycle that could easily spiral out of control. Stopping things before they got there was the best solution she could imagine.
The Uzi poked into her lower back as they went farther and farther into the ruins of the village and farther and farther away from the train that would be due in less than fifteen minutes. She glanced at Kane. He gave her a wink and mouthed counting back from three.
They struck in tandem, twisting and grabbing the guns, pointing them away until they fell from the men's hands. Leverage on the stairs was treacherous, but that worked to their advantage with the two out-of-shape men sent to capture them.
Kane and the tall guy were trading blows, while she knew better than to engage in a fistfight. She'd lose that battle for sure. Instead, she ducked and weaved among the crumbling architecture, hoping to find an opening. The uneven ground was making that nearly impossible. The mustached guy stalked her up the steps higher and higher. Kane and the tall one were still at it. Their abandoned guns had tumbled out of reach. But if she were quick, she might be able to secure one before Mustache Man did. Just as she had the thought, the man lunged, grasping her foot and yanking. She lost her balance and fell.
A menacing smile broke out on his face as reached into his pocket and came after her with a knife. The shot rang out, clipping him in the shoulder and causing him to drop his knife. Sabrina expected to find Kane, but instead spotted Antonio holding a rifle. He motioned with his hands. "Fretta, fretta," he shouted as bullets began to fly all around them.
Kane came up behind her and grabbed her hand. Together they tore down the steps toward the slowly approaching train.
Another shot sounded behind them. When she turned, she spotted Antonio with a giant red stain blooming on his chest.
CHAPTER TWELVE
They were both out of breath when they settled into their train seats. Sabrina couldn't speak for Kane, but it took more than a few minutes to calm her racing heart.
He clasped her hand in his. "Antonio made amends in the end."
"I guess he did." She nodded slowly, still trying to process the idea that Antonio was dead. Despite his double cross, shouldn't she at least have tears in her eyes? "At some level I understand him. If it weren't for my brothers, I might have turned into even more of a cold bitch than I am."
He chuckled. "That's only what you want people to believe."
"You're naïve, Kane. I never have been one of those touchy-feely kinds of people. I can't remember the last time I cried—probably not since I was a little girl and learned how cruel life can be." Why did he keep thinking she was capable of something that would never be? She'd made peace with it. Why couldn't he?
"That doesn't mean you're emotionless. It means you're guarded. I get that. No doubt it's a lingering effect of having a shitty childhood."
She shrugged, knowing he'd minimized her emotional desert. "It's who I am. I don't get all gaga over any man in my life; I don't sit around and talk about my problems or try to work them out; I never get overly attached. Most times I say screw it and move on." While nerves jumped around inside her, he looked the epitome of calm, cool, and collected.
"You told me a little too much about your past. That's your real fear, isn't it, Sabrina? Maybe people won't back away from you. Maybe they won't walk on eggshells to keep from pissing you off. Maybe they'll see you for the scared woman you are."
"What, are you my psychoanalyst now?"
"I'm more than that and we both know it." The firm set of his jaw irked her more than she could say.
She looked around the train, anxious for an out. "I don't need this." Her legs were shaky when she stood, brushing past him and moving to another seat.
Her plan all along was to go at this assignment alone. Just because he fell into her lap didn't mean she had to make use of his talents and the high-and-mighty power of the FBI. Besides, his talents weren't that great, and she had much more incentive to see this to its conclusion.
Seconds later, he settled next to her, spoiling the good vibe she was desperately working on. "Do I have to report you to the authorities?"
"Both you and I know that's not going to happen." His eyebrows rose up and down and he chucked her under the chin. "We don't have internet access; we have nearly a five-hour train ride before we hit the outskirts of Venice. We might as well hash things out between us."
She rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to say there's nothing between us? I have connections with nobody. Take it or leave it. It's the way I am."
"That doesn't explain your commitment to Caitlyn, does it? It doesn't explain why you left me in the middle of the night, does it?"
"I told you I like to work alone." She knew he'd eventually go there. It was part of his makeup that wanted to see her exposed and vulnerable.
He nodded, but not in a way that felt understanding. Instead, his gaze narrowed as he took her in. "It's the whole sex thing, isn't it? It wigged you out." His comment came out of the blue.
She rolled her eyes. "I'd never get wigged out by something as trivial as sex."
He palm slapped his forehead. "That's right. It wasn't about the sex. It was about the intimacy. I'm betting you never told any other man about Petrovich before."
She wanted to protest, but the words seemed stuck to the roof of her mouth like a glob of peanut butter. When she glanced into his eyes, she knew she couldn't deny it even if the words themselves weren't trapped inside.
"Your non-answer speaks volumes." H
e nodded as if he knew what was going on inside her head. But he didn't. No one did. Not even her sometimes. "I get it now."
She wanted to spout off a pithy response to his observation but she couldn't think of a word to say. Did he actually understand what drove her to do what she did? Could that even be possible?
After keeping a metal case around her heart for as long as she could remember, that tightly wound spring keeping it closed loosened a notch.
* * *
Thankfully, their conversation on the train faded into oblivion when she faked sleep on the journey toward Venice. By the time they got to the small inn on the opposite side of the canal, Sabrina was more than anxious to tackle the information sent to Kane.
"Now that we're settled for the night, I need to see." She urged him to open the laptop and the program the FBI wizards had unearthed. When Sabrina inched closer, she saw the pictures: women, girls, hundreds of them. Sexual positions, naked, vulnerable. Bile rose up her throat in less than a heartbeat.
"Try to ignore the photos; it's the codes next to the girls we need to concentrate on." He placed his hand across the screen and looked into her eyes.
"Am I in those pictures?" She drew in a breath and tried to suppress the wash of vulnerability.
"We know the code next to the photo has to do with the airports where the women were abducted."
Sabrina couldn't speak. All she could do was stare at the screen, mesmerized by what she saw. Revulsion more potent than she could have imagined made a nauseous ball form in the pit of her stomach. It took every bit of willpower she possessed to not throw up all over the keyboard.
