by Jade Dean
“Thank you, Trevor,” Ryan said with heartfelt gratitude. “I owe you big time for this.” It had been one thing for Watts to loan him a team and equipment to take down their common enemy, but this was entirely different. Trevor didn’t have any ties to Abby, but he was willing to assist her anyway.
“This will be one of my last acts as Director of the Special Ops Branch,” Trevor said quietly. “I might as well do some good while I still can.”
“What are you saying?” Ryan asked.
“I’m retiring. I’m getting too old for the spy game and I have to think of my family,” Trevor replied. “There comes a time when you have to put them first and now is that time for me.”
Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Ryan managed a few words. “You’re a good man, Trevor, and I have the highest respect for you. I’m sorry I put you in an awkward position when I went off on my personal vendetta against Montoya.”
“Don’t apologize for that, Ryan,” Watts said. “I would have done the same thing.”
“If there’s ever anything I can do for you, you just have to name it,” Ryan promised.
“We’ll talk when you get back. Good luck, Agent Sheldon.”
Trevor hung up before Ryan could protest that he was no longer an agent. Until he managed to retrieve Abby, he would have to step back into the role of an operative again, but it was only temporary.
“Do we need more equipment than what we have in the SUV?” Jackson asked, breaking Ryan out of his reverie. All agency vehicles had a few assault rifles, handguns and various other gear stashed in the back.
Ryan shook his head. “We should have everything we’ll need.” There was one item he required and it was hidden behind a false wall in Abby’s closet. He retrieved his gear and stuffed it into a plain black backpack. “Let’s go,” he ordered and his men filed out into the hall. Locking the door securely, Ryan tucked the laptop beneath his arm and hefted his backpack as he loped after the others.
₪₪₪
Chapter Seventeen
If Abby hadn’t been so tense, she might have grown bored during the five hour flight. She caught glimpses of a sprawling city below as Logan descended and the jet banked to the side. Recognizing LA, she wondered why he’d brought her here. He’d always operated from Washington before, but maybe things had changed since she’d gone rogue.
LAX was a busy airport and they had to wait for nearly an hour before they were finally directed towards a free terminal. It was small and set off to the side and very few people were to be seen as they taxied to a stop.
Appearing in the cockpit doorway, Logan gave her an absent smile. For someone that had presumably been hunting for her for fifteen months, he didn’t seem particularly hostile.
“Do you need a bathroom break?”
His thoughtful question made her even more confused. “Yes.” She also needed to stretch her legs. Sitting still for so long was never fun.
Matthews un-cuffed her from the seat, then re-cuffed her hands in front of her rather than behind this time. She was keenly aware of him at her back as she walked the short distance to the bathroom at the back of the jet.
Using the facilities, she searched for something she could use as a weapon but came up blank. Giving into the inevitable, she washed her hands then opened the door. Logan draped a jacket over her hands to hide her handcuffs then took her by the elbow and escorted her to the door.
Flashing her cuffed hands and screaming for help would only result in innocent people being shot by her captor, so Abby behaved herself as he led her into the terminal. He flashed his ID at a security guard and had a quiet conversation with the man. Whatever he said had them escorted through a series of restricted hallways to a parking area. A black sedan waited and this time she rode in the back rather than in the trunk. He took the precaution of securing her hands to the door before taking off.
It was midafternoon by the time Logan reached an isolated beach house. Through the heavily tinted windows, Abby saw a grand old mansion in need of fresh paint. Three-stories high, it had once been magnificent, but it didn’t look like it had been lived in for some time going by the overgrown yard.
Logan parked in the driveway and opened the door for his prisoner. He didn’t even glance at the house as he directed her around to the right. Rounding the house, she saw a dilapidated old dock that sat far over the water. A boathouse to the right was in better repair and they walked across a lawn that hadn’t been mowed in months to reach it.
A padlock kept any unwanted intruders out. It was new and had been added recently. This close to the ocean, metal tended to rust quickly. There were no windows on the boathouse and it was pitch black inside when the door opened. Matthews flicked on a light and she blinked in surprise. Instead of the dusty, ramshackle room she’d expected, she saw state of the art computers lined up on a low bench.
The bench ran along the entire left side of the building. The right wall contained weapons of all shapes and sizes. A speedboat took up the center of the space. Bright red, it was well maintained and looked out of place compared to the structure that housed it. The back wall of the building was actually a door. It could be shifted sideways to allow the boat to enter and leave.
Locking the door behind him, Logan pointed towards the five laptops that were neatly lined up side by side. “Have a seat.”
A single cheap office chair sat before the bench. The wheels would enable the user to shift from computer to computer easily. A strip of plastic had been placed over the slightly uneven floorboards to make travel smoother.
It was obvious to Abby that Matthews wasn’t going to kill her. Not yet anyway. “What do you want with me?” she asked as she sat down.
Staring down at her intently, he wore a half-smile that meant he was deep in thought. His eyes were on her, but he wasn’t really seeing her. “I trained you to kill and you were very good at it, but there’s one skill that you surpass even me at.”
It took her only moments to realize what he wanted. “You want me to hack into somewhere.” Now she was even more confused than ever. He had the clearance to access any information he wanted. Why would he need her to dig anything up for him?
Inclining his head, he switched on the laptop to the far left. He clicked on a file and a picture appeared. She didn’t know the man in the photo. He was in his sixties and had gray hair and cold, intelligent blue eyes. He wore an expensive suit that had to have been tailored to fit him. Whoever he was, he gave her the impression of being ruthless and emotionless. That was what she’d eventually look like if she continued to kill for her country.
“I want you to locate this man,” Logan said. “Find every scrap of information you can about him, just like you did for Diego Montoya.”
She wasn’t surprised that he knew about her search results for Montoya. She knew he’d find out about her unauthorized access sooner or later. “Why do you need me for this? Why don’t you get one of your lackeys to run the searches?”
He looked at the picture on the screen and something like hatred flashed across his face. “Because I don’t want him to know I’m coming for him. These computers have the highest possible security. No one will know you accessed the information.”
“Who is he?” she asked softly.
“What if I told you that most of the orders I gave you came from him?” he responded just as quietly. He pointed at the picture and she studied it again. “You think I’m the bad guy, but he makes me look like a boy scout.”
As far as she knew, Logan had only one boss, the director of the agency, Charles Sullivan. She didn’t know who this man was and she didn’t care. She was out of the business and it had nothing to do with her now. But if she refused to comply, he’d kill her, bundle her body into the boat and dump her at sea. He probably would anyway, but at least she could delay the inevitable for a short while.
Switching on the rest of the laptops, she prepared to hack into restricted systems through the secret backdoors that she’d created once aga
in.
₪₪₪
Chapter Eighteen
Reaching the airport, Dale used the restricted access point for government officials and flashed his ID at the guard. Trevor had worked his magic and they were waved through to the waiting jet.
Almost before they were settled into their seats, the jet was cleared for takeoff. Ryan powered up the laptop as soon as the pilot gave him the all clear. The red dot was still heading westward and it was halfway towards the west coast now. The pilot had been instructed to head towards LA, which seemed to be where their target was heading.
Halfway into their flight, Ryan confirmed with the pilot that LAX would indeed be their destination. They’d caught up to their quarry slightly, but they were still nearly four hours behind Matthews. He had to assume Abby was still alive because it didn’t make sense to transport her corpse all the way across the country.
Ryan had to shut down his laptop during their descent and he waited with increasing impatience until it was safe to restart it again. His heart leaped into his throat when he saw that the red dot they were chasing had finally stopped. Zooming in, he saw that Matthews had taken his captive to a remote property on the coast to the south of LA.
A car had been arranged by Trevor as well and Ryan slid into the passenger seat while Jackson took the wheel. It was only mid-afternoon and it would be too dangerous to storm the property until they knew what they were facing.
He directed Dale to drive closer to the coastal house, but they stopped several miles away beside a small park. Four heavily armed men would be a highly suspicious and the cops would be called within minutes, so they left their weapons in the car. Taking only the laptop with him, Ryan ambled over to a picnic table and sat it down. The others surrounded him as he zoomed the map in so they could see the property in greater detail.
The mansions in this area were on large blocks of land and were far enough apart to offer some privacy. A high wall blocked the house from the view of its neighbors, which would make it easier to infiltrate the grounds without being seen.
Instead of being inside the mansion, the red dot indicated that Abby had been taken to the boathouse.
“I guess I won’t get to blow up anything this time,” Holt said with false dejection.
“Not unless Matthews is strapped to it,” Ryan muttered. He could cheerfully murder the man that had taken Abby away from him and he wouldn’t lose a moment of sleep over it.
“We need to get a closer look at the boathouse,” Jackson said.
“Matthews is Black Squad,” Josh reminded them. “He’s probably got sensors set up everywhere. He’ll know we’re here the moment we get too close.”
“Then we’ll have to make sure we don’t get too close,” Ryan replied. “Let’s split up and recon the neighborhood. Search for a vantage point where we can see the boathouse. Jackson, you’re with me.”
Holt and Doran set off at a fast walk while the other two sauntered at a more leisurely pace towards the property where Abby was being held prisoner. They stayed well away from the house and grounds and tried to pretend they weren’t scoping out the other mansions.
Matt spoke through the earpiece after a fifteen minute search. “We’ve just found the perfect spot, boss.”
“Where are you?” Ryan asked.
“Two properties down on the left,” Holt answered. “The place is empty and they have a very handy tower overlooking the water.”
Exchanging a glance with Dale, Ryan jogged back towards the car. Someone would become suspicious if an unknown vehicle was left parked on the street for too long. He drove it past the rundown mansion and couldn’t help but glance at it on his way past. Fairly innocuous, it didn’t look like the kind of place a sociopath would use as a hideout. A black sedan sat in the driveway. Proving someone was home.
Boldly pulling into the driveway two houses down, he saw that the garage door was open. Matt stepped into sight and waved at him to enter. Hiding the car was a good plan and he nosed it into the opening.
“The owners seem to be away,” Holt told him when he climbed out of the car. “There’s no food in the fridge and mail is piling up at the door.”
Nodding, Ryan took his backpack out of the trunk. “Show me the tower.”
Matt led the way through the mansion, which was decorated in shades of blue and green. It was a soothing combination that did nothing to settle Ryan’s nerves. Paintings of seascapes hung on every wall. They were obviously all from the same beach, but they were different enough not to become monotonous. He wasn’t an art critic, but it looked like someone with skill had painted them.
They reached a door at the end of a long hallway and Holt stepped aside so his team leader could ascend the narrow, winding staircase. A breathtaking view waited for Ryan at the top of the stairs. The small tower resembled a lighthouse without the light. About twenty feet square, late afternoon sunlight flooded inside. It contained a comfortable armchair, an easel and painting implements on a table. The view of the beach below matched the paintings that hung on the walls of the mansion. The strong smell of paint and turpentine hung in the air.
Josh was crouched below one of the windows over to the right. Ryan hunkered down and joined him. He took the binoculars that Doran offered him and a rundown old boathouse came into view. There were no windows, so he had no way to tell if Abby was still alive or not.
“Keep watch,” he instructed the muscled agent and opened the laptop. The red dot hadn’t moved. Alive or dead, his girl was still inside the boathouse. Ryan wanted to sprint down the stairs and bust down the door of her prison, but that would probably get her killed. Logan Matthews was a formidable foe and it would be far too dangerous to rush in until they’d checked for hidden traps. It killed him to wait, but entering the property at night would give them their best chance to rescue Abby.
₪₪₪
Chapter Nineteen
Abby followed Logan’s instructions and began her search for any information related to the mystery man. Her curiosity was doomed to be thwarted when he told her to send the information to the first laptop. All five were joined together and she typed in the command as ordered. He angled the screen of the first laptop away so all she could see was the search programs in progress on the other computers.
This whole being kidnapped experience was puzzling, but Abby was even more confused that he was hiding the information that her search picked up from her. Why bother when he was going to kill her as soon as she was done anyway?
With the programs set into motion, Abby had little to do but to contemplate her life and the choices that she’d made. She’d worked for Logan for five years before she’d been promoted to the team leader of the Black Squad. She’d held that position for four years before she’d finally rebelled against his orders. Abby had done many things that she now questioned, but that last order still rankled and she found she wanted answers.
Logan’s brow lifted when she swiveled her chair to face him. He’d tucked his handgun into a pocket where he could access it before she could even think of launching herself at him.
“Why did you order me to kill that family?”
He knew what she was talking about, of course. There had only been one family that she’d ever been commanded to eradicate.
“Because I needed you to eliminate your team and I knew you’d never kill people you thought of as innocents.”
She gaped at him in stunned disbelief. “You wanted me to kill your own squad?” He nodded calmly, which infuriated her. “Why? Why get me to do it?”
“Because you were the only one that hadn’t been corrupted and I knew you had the skill to take them down,” he replied.
“What do you mean ‘corrupted’? Corrupted by what?”
“They were no longer loyal to me,” Matthews said, gazing at the screen that she could no longer see. “The man I’m hunting had ordered them to kill both of us once you returned from your mission, so I made sure you took them out first.”
“Who is this
guy?” she asked again, knowing he wouldn’t answer her.
“You’re better off not knowing.”
Silence fell and the afternoon wore on. Eventually, the programs came to a halt. Abby had no idea how much information had been gathered, but Logan should now have every electronic piece of data that had been stored anywhere in the world on his target. Her watch told her that it would be dark soon. The search had taken a lot longer than she’d expected. That meant the mystery man had been to at least several foreign countries. It always took longer to track international travelers.
“Erase every trace of your search,” Matthews ordered.
Typing in the commands one computer at a time, she wiped away all signs of what she’d done and closed the laptops down. As she did, Logan left her long enough to retrieve a small black backpack from the other side of the room. He also brought back a portable hard drive. He inserted it into the first computer and downloaded all of the information that she’d sent to it. It took several minutes to save the data then he removed the hard drive and placed it in the backpack.
Done with the computer, he turned the screen to her and she erased her search from it as well. When the screen went blank, she turned to face him. He stared over her head broodingly, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen.
Several minutes passed before he checked his watch and sighed. He motioned her to stand, but he didn’t bother to cuff her. “Open the door and turn right,” he commanded.
Abby knew what he intended even before she stepped outside. The long dock ran alongside the boathouse and extended for a hundred feet past it. It would be a great spot for fishing, but that wasn’t what Matthews had in mind.
She felt his eyes boring into her back as she slowly walked the distance along the uneven boards. The dock swayed under her, making her feel slightly dizzy. The sun had set and weak moonlight intermittently filtered through clouds that had gathered. It looked like a storm was brewing. She wondered why Logan was making her take this walk of doom rather than the easier route of using the boat to take her body out to sea. Maybe the boat was broken. Maybe he was just a sadistic bastard and he liked making her squirm.
