RunningWildAmazon

by Reece, Christy

  The chopper circled the estate a couple of times—Aidan figured this was to alert the occupants that they had arrived—then headed to a clearing about a quarter mile away.

  Timing would be everything. Since he was still handcuffed and chained to the seat, he could do nothing but wait until he was released. After all this time, he doubted that the men would believe he was still too incapacitated to fight. He also didn’t believe that Simon would want him unable to comprehend what was going on, which meant the men wouldn’t force more shit down his throat. Brute force would be their method to make him cooperate.

  The instant the chopper touched down, the man in the front passenger seat went to his feet and came for him. He unlocked the chain at Aidan’s feet first and then, as he reached for the handcuffs, growled, “One wrong move, and you get a bullet.”

  Having no problem with that, Aidan nodded. Making any kind of move in these close quarters would be suicide.

  The man uncuffed him from the armrest and said, “Turn around.”

  Aidan presented his back to the guy and allowed his hands to be cuffed behind him. Once Aidan was secured, the guy stepped out of the chopper, pulling Aidan with him.

  The minute his feet were on the ground, Aidan said, “I gotta take a leak.”

  “So go.”

  Giving the other man a smarmy smile, he said, “You gonna unzip me?”

  With a growling curse, the guy pulled him a few steps away from the chopper and dug into his pants pocket for the key. He unlocked Aidan’s cuffs and stepped back. “You got a gun pointed at your kidney. You do anything other than take a piss, you’re a dead man.”

  As Aidan unzipped his pants, he assessed. Situated only a few feet away from a glass building, he had a perfect view of what was going on behind him. The surly guy did indeed have a gun pointed at his kidney. Behind him was the other man. His back was to them as he rummaged around in a duffle bag.

  Finishing, Aidan zipped up and, in the guise of adjusting himself, made a move backward. With a subtle, quick turn, Aidan grabbed the man’s gun and pulled him around with it. The guy looking through his bag turned, a gun in his hand. Aidan fired two shots, both hitting their mark. Just as the man dropped, the guy Aidan was holding kicked out toward Aidan’s legs. Pivoting, Aidan swung the man around again and slammed his booted foot into the man’s chest. The man fell backward, releasing the gun.

  Aidan stood over him, gun pointed at a non-life-threatening part of his body, and said, “What are your orders?”

  The mercenary glared up at him and remained silent.

  With no time for subtle questioning, Aidan fired a round into the man’s leg, shattering his tibia. As he rolled around on the ground, screaming, Aidan snapped, “Tell me, or you’ll have a matching pair.”

  “We’re just supposed to take you to the house and leave you at the front door.” He swallowed and added, “That’s all. I promise.”

  Aidan smiled. “Now, was that so hard?”

  “You’ll never get away with this, asshole.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  The man rolled over, grabbing at his leg. When he rolled back, he was holding a gun. Aidan fired a second shot, this time into the man’s forehead.

  Knowing that Simon would be expecting his men to show up with him any minute, Aidan had only a limited amount of time to prepare. He searched the duffle bags belonging to the two men, found a few nice surprises, along with a cellphone and a bottle of water.

  He sheathed both knives, one in each boot, took three guns and all the ammo. Taking off at a run, he drank down the water as he dialed McCall’s number. When nothing happened, he checked the readout and cursed. No signal.

  Hoping for a better signal when he got closer to the house, he kicked into high gear. Every second counted.

  Though there was a small access road running from the helicopter landing area to the mansion, Aidan opted for the cover of trees and shrubbery. He anticipated there would be cameras alerting Simon to his presence, but he wanted to avoid any advance warning if possible. Taking Simon and his men by surprise was the best chance of survival for both him and Anna.

  When he got to the edge of the estate, he halted behind a tree. There were no fences, no gates. Simon apparently trusted that his location was hidden enough that he didn’t need additional security. Aidan checked the signal on the cellphone. Still nothing. Even though he’d rather have a half-dozen LCR operatives going inside with him, there was no way he could delay any longer.

  Holding one of the Glocks in his hand, Aidan headed to the front door.

  ***

  Anna stiffened at a noise outside the bedroom. She’d been dozing on and off since dinner. About an hour ago, she had eaten a delicious, if bland, meal of chicken and rice. The man, who’d finally introduced himself as Patrick, kept his word, taking a large bite of everything on her plate and consuming several sips of her water.

  She was still so weak that her hand shook when she lifted her fork to her mouth. Simon’s poison had done a number on her. She felt foolish for consuming a meal like she was a guest when she had no idea where Aidan was or what was going on outside the bedroom door, but until she regained her strength, she would be no use to him or herself.

  The door opened abruptly, and Anna sat up in the chair, trying to ready herself for whatever these men had planned. Patrick entered first, and then a man she’d never seen walked in behind him.

  “Who are you?” She looked behind them. “Where’s Simon?”

  Neither man answered her, but the new man sent Patrick a smiling look. “You’re so right. Perfect choice.”

  They both came toward her, and the intent expressions on their faces gave her warning that things were about to get ugly again. Refusing to just sit still and take whatever they had planned, Anna forced herself to rise. Her legs felt like jelly, and her entire body was shaking. She made it around the chair and then had to lean against the back of it to keep herself upright.

  “Stay away from me.”

  The stranger gave her an oddly gentle smile. “I’m sorry, but that’s just not possible. You’re here to fulfill a promise. Now be a good girl, and we’ll try to make this painless.”

  Patrick stood on her left, and the other man was on her right. They were both older than she was, but they were at full strength. Since they wouldn’t be fighting for their lives, as she would be, she told herself she had the advantage.

  Anna pushed away from the chair and ran toward the door. Halfway there, two pairs of hands grabbed her arms. Using every bit of strength she had left, Anna jerked and fought them off, scratching and kicking. Her feet were bare, and she felt the jarring impact all the way through her body when she made contact with various body parts. She heard curses and more than a few grunts.

  She took another step, and then thick, strong arms wrapped around her torso, trapping her arms. She realized Patrick was holding her when the other man came to her side. In his hand was another syringe.

  “No. Dammit! No!” Anna jerked and screamed, kicking violently. The last injection had almost killed her. She couldn’t take another one.

  Correctly interpreting her fear, the man said, “Don’t worry, my dear. This will just relax you.” The needle slid into her arm.

  The world whirled around her. “Why?” Anna whispered.

  She was vaguely aware that she was lifted and placed on something soft but firm. Her mind acknowledged she was back on the bed.

  “Please, stop.” She managed to get the words past her rapidly numbing lips. “Please don’t hurt Aidan.”

  A wild, hideous kind of laughter surrounded her, and Anna screamed in silence for the man she loved and might never see again.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Aidan opened the front door and walked into the mansion as easily as he would at his own home. The interior wasn’t what he’d expected. The outside looked almost homey, but the inside was both cavernous and austere. The floor was a cold, gray marble, and the walls a slightly dull shade
of beige. Since he probably didn’t have a lot of visitors on top of the mountain, Simon had skimped on the décor.

  “Hello, Dr. Thorne.”

  A man stood at the top of the stairs. White hair, sixtyish, with a kind-looking face. His hazel eyes were empty and emotionless.

  “Where’s Anna?”

  “All in good time.”

  Aidan aimed his weapon at the man’s crotch. “I’m not going to ask again.”

  “Very well,” the man said. “Ms. Bradford is sleeping. She’s perfectly fine, and you’ll see her soon.”

  “I want to see her now.”

  “Really, Dr. Thorne. Your rudeness would be amusing if it weren’t so gauche.”

  Aidan fired a warning shot at the man’s left foot. He jumped back and stumbled on the stairway. Grabbing hold of the railing, he snarled, “That was uncalled for.”

  “It was very called for. Tell me where Anna is, or you’ll be missing a few toes.”

  “All right. You’ve made your point. Please place your weapon on the floor, and I’ll take—”

  “I don’t think you’re understanding me. I keep my gun. You take me to Anna. End of story.”

  “End of story? I don’t think so.”

  The steel of a gun was pressed into his back. “Do as the man says. Drop your gun.”

  Aidan leaned down and placed the Glock on the floor.

  The man behind him growled, “Search him.”

  Two more men appeared, and Aidan stood still as they removed weapon after weapon, along with the cellphone.

  The man on the stairs began to walk toward him. “Well, you certainly came prepared. I guess I don’t need to ask what happened to the men who brought you here?”

  When Aidan didn’t answer, the man smiled. “Dr. Cook is eager to see you again after all these years. Follow me.”

  With no choice but to comply, Aidan followed behind the older man. The three guys behind him were all armed, and while they might not shoot to kill, they’d likely enjoy shooting some non-vital areas just for the fun of it.

  The white-haired man led Aidan down a long hallway and stopped at a door. He knocked, and when a voice said, “Enter,” he put his hand on the doorknob.

  Aidan heard the familiar voice, and his mind was trying to come up with an explanation when the door was pushed open. Comprehension slammed into his brain.

  Now he knew why the words on Simon’s tombstone in the homemade horror movie had bothered him. Simon had detested being referred to as Junior. There was no way he would have willingly put that on his tombstone.

  His mind whirling with new questions, Aidan stepped inside and faced a ghost.

  Smugness might not be a virtue, but in this instance, Simon believed he was entitled to a small amount of it. The shock in Aidan Thorne’s eyes eased, if only slightly, the rage Simon Cook, Sr. had held on to for more than a decade.

  “Shall I quote Mark Twain? The report of my death was grossly exaggerated.”

  Recovering quicker than Simon had anticipated, Thorne snarled, “Where’s Anna?”

  “Tsk-tsk, Dr. Thorne. The women in your life have always caused you trouble of some sort.”

  “I don’t know what sort of sick, twisted game you and your son are playing, but leave Anna out of it. She’s got nothing to do with this.”

  “But of course she does. She’s the final masterpiece in a decade-long endeavor.”

  “If you want me dead, then damn well do it and get it over with. There’s no reason Anna has to be involved.”

  “Such an altruistic man. I’m surprised you left the medical profession. You could have done such wonderful things. Saved so many lives.”

  “What do you want, Dr. Cook?”

  “Call me Simon.”

  “That’s what I call your murdering bastard of a son.”

  Rage erupted like a volcanic explosion, and Simon lunged toward the man who’d ruined his and his son’s lives. He got only halfway there before a voice shouted behind him, “Dr. Cook. Stop!”

  Simon halted, infuriated that Thorne had caused him to lose his temper so soon. Anticipating that his emotions might get the best of him, he’d asked Patrick to stay close in case he overreacted. There was so much more to accomplish. Ending things now would ruin everything.

  Stepping back, Simon grimaced a smile. “Have a seat, Aidan. Let’s catch up.”

  “Not until I see Anna.”

  “You really have a thing for her, don’t you? And why shouldn’t you? She’s a lovely young woman.”

  Simon jerked his head slightly. “Patrick, if you please.”

  The wall behind him slid open to expose the large observation window that looked into the bedroom he’d had especially prepared for this momentous occasion. In the middle of the room was a king-size bed. And on the bed lay the lovely Anna.

  For as dramatic a showing as possible, the lights inside the room brightened in slow increments, much the way daybreak began. Then, with a burst of brilliance, the entire room flooded with light. And that was when Simon heard the most beautiful sound of all. A pain-filled gasp from Aidan Thorne.

  Fury unleashed, Aidan had his hands wrapped around Cook’s neck before he realized he’d moved. “What did you do to her, you son of a bitch?”

  Clawing at the fingers around his neck, Cook rasped the words, “She’s sleeping.”

  She didn’t look like she was asleep. Her cheeks were bleached of all color, bruises covered one side of her swollen face, and she was as still as death.

  “Dr. Cook?” The white-haired man appeared on the other side of the glass partition, beside the bed where Anna lay.

  “If you want her to stay unharmed you need to let me go, Thorne,” Cook wheezed. “Patrick is quite capable of breaking her arm with his bare hands.”

  Aidan eased his grip on Cook’s neck, but only slightly. “He touches her, you die.”

  “But, my dear young doctor, you’ve definitely lost your touch. I’m already dead.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Let’s have a seat, and I’ll tell you a story.”

  “I want to see Anna first, face-to-face. I need to make sure she’s okay.”

  “Very well, but under certain restrictions.”

  “Restrictions?”

  “You’ll be restrained.”

  Aidan held out his hands. “Fine. Whatever.”

  Beaming as if he’d earned a major concession, Cook zip-tied his wrists. “Come with me.”

  Cook led him out the door and into the other room where Anna lay. He didn’t wait for the old man to keep up as he strode to the bed and checked her pulse. It was steady and even. Her breathing was good, and her temperature felt normal.

  “What did you give her?”

  “Just a little sleeping potion. Something I created myself. She’s perfectly fine.”

  “What happened to her face?”

  Cook made a clucking sound. “An inadvertent injury, I’m afraid. Your Anna put up more of a fight than was anticipated. The hoodlums we hired weren’t as careful as they had been instructed. If it makes you feel any better, they’re both dead now. And though she’s bruised, nothing’s broken.”

  Wanting nothing more than to haul Anna into his arms and take off with her, Aidan forced restraint. He wouldn’t get one step outside before he was shot. No way in hell would he put Anna at more risk. He had to figure out a way to get her out safely. If talking to Cook Sr. and his crazy-assed son was what was required, that’s what he’d do. Aidan knew it wasn’t going to be that simple, but he’d cross that bridge when it appeared in front of him.

  “All right. Let’s talk.”

  “Excellent.”

  He followed Cook back out to the other room. Why the bastard was allowing him to keep an eye on Anna while they talked was suspicious, but Aidan wasn’t going to question the reason. If he had to, he told himself, he could be at Anna’s side in seconds.

  “Have a seat. Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea?”


  “Get to the point.”

  As the elder Cook settled into his chair, Aidan ran down the things he remembered about the man. Widower. Gifted chemist. Father of one son, whom he doted on to the point of obsession. Ten years ago the man had been slightly stocky, with thick hair, bushy eyebrows, and a ruddy complexion. This man, with his thinning hair, pale face, and slender body, held little resemblance to the Cook Sr. that Aidan had once known.

  After Simon disappeared, Cook Sr. had become a hermit, still claiming his son was innocent and swearing he had no idea where he’d gone. No one had believed him, but neither could they prove otherwise. So was Simon here? Had father and son been holed up in this place like two evil moles?

  “Why’d you fake your death?”

  “Because it was the only way to get rid of the constant surveillance. No one believed I didn’t know where Simon was hiding. I couldn’t go anywhere, do anything without being followed and harassed.”

  His smile one of triumph, he added, “I do wish I’d thought of it years before. Amazing what you can accomplish when people don’t know you exist.”

  “Like abducting a young woman?”

  “There is that, but I promise, this was a one-time venture. So much work is involved.”

  “What do you want, Dr. Cook?”

  “I want what any father of a wrongly accused child would want. Vindication.”

  “Simon was not wrongly accused. And do you think kidnapping and drugging Anna makes him look less guilty?”

  “I’ve given up on the idea of Simon looking less guilty to the world. It’s you who needs to absolve him of a crime he didn’t commit. A crime you were responsible for.”

  Aidan’s fingers dug into the arms of his chair. If he went after the bastard and strangled him as he wanted, he’d be killed, and Anna would likely die, too. He wouldn’t jeopardize her life for the satisfaction of ending Cook’s life. “You want to tell me how the hell I’m responsible for your son raping and murdering my wife?”

  “You kicked him out of the apartment. You were his friend, his best friend, long before that whore came into your life.”