She clambered out of the truck, and her silent companion in the back followed her out. Now she had two guns pointed at her by two masked men. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been in this situation before.
They marched her into the cabin, and she breathed a sigh of relief. No helicopter ride tonight—at least not yet.
The taller man shoved open the door and pushed her across the threshold.
“Ted!” She stumbled across the carpeted floor of the cabin toward her brother; his hands were tied behind his back, his ankles roped to a chair.
“What kind of mess have you gotten yourself into, Noelle? I thought I was the unstable one in this family.”
She dropped to her knees in front of him, ignoring the blonde standing to his right. She was the only one unmasked, but then, Ted already knew what she looked like. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
He eyed his captors through narrowed eyes. “Not yet. What the hell do they want from you, and why the hell are you here? Not to save my sorry ass?”
“My roommate, Abby, put something on my laptop and they want it.”
“That’s enough. He doesn’t need to know any more.” The woman stepped from the shadows, the low light in the cabin gleaming in her blond hair.
Noelle sat back on her heels. “Why don’t you let him go as a sign of good faith? You have me here now, and I’ll help you access the file...if I can.”
Everyone seemed to say no at the same time, including Ted. Maybe her brother had changed—just in time.
“We call the shots here, Noelle.” The driver of the car rubbed his hands together. “And right now we need to unlock that file.”
She pushed to her feet and lurched toward the desk, where her laptop glowed in the dimly lit room. “I’m ready to try.”
The man with the accent pulled out the chair and gestured to it with a sweep of his hand. “Have a seat.”
Noelle perched on the edge of the hard chair, facing her computer. They’d opened a folder she’d never seen before, which contained one document. The document’s title contained only digits, which looked random. They must’ve known how to search for the contents of the file. The document icon sported a tiny microphone, which must indicate a voice password-protected file.
Abby had been clever. She’d told Noelle she was developing some new computer technology and had her sit in front of the laptop recording different words and sounds. If only she could remember some of those words, phrases and names now.
Licking her lips, she slid a gaze to the man in the ski mask. What if she just deleted the file? She could save Prospero a lot of time and effort.
Of course, she’d probably get herself and Ted killed. But would that happen anyway? J.D. seemed to think so, and he knew these people better than she did.
Her hand swooped for the mouse and right-clicked on the file.
A stinging blow hit the back of her head, and her eyes watered.
“Nobody told you to touch that file. You do something like that again and we’ll shoot Ted.” To drive home this threat, the big man who’d been in the backseat with her released the safety on his weapon with a click that resounded through the cabin.
Noelle clasped her hands in her lap. “What do you want me to do?”
“Start that brain of yours working. At any time did Abby record your voice?”
She had, but Noelle didn’t want to give these guys any more than she had to.
“Maybe. Maybe she did it without my knowledge.”
“It would’ve been at the computer. When you were sitting at your laptop, did she have you say any words?”
Tilting her head, she wrapped her hair around one hand. “Maybe.”
That one word earned her another slap on the back of her head. She gulped back a sob. J.D. had been right. These people would never let her and Ted live, whether or not she got them into the file.
But at least Ted wouldn’t suffer alone. At least she’d tried to save him.
“I’m thinking.” She rubbed the back of her head. “Stop hitting me. It’s not helping.”
“Think harder.”
Noelle squeezed her eyes shut. What had Abby told her to repeat? Nonsense words, mostly. How would she ever remember a bunch of nonsense words? Some of the word combinations had been names, but they weren’t celebrity names or names of anyone she knew.
Her eyes flew open. J.D.’s voice filtered into her mind, his words swirling in her head. He’d told her more than she’d ever known about Abby Warren, told her of Abby’s obsession, told her the name of Abby’s obsession.
The hulk moved behind her, his cologne overpowering her senses. Curving his arm around her neck, he showed her the long syringe between his fingers. “We can help you remember, Noelle. We can help you remember a lot of things.”
Her nostrils flared. If they injected her with truth serum, they might get more than they bargained for—like the identity of her cowboy bodyguard.
She had to give them the name. She had to give them the password she’d remembered.
Or they’d never let J.D. leave Buck Ridge alive.
Chapter Seventeen
J.D. smacked his lips and groaned. His tongue felt as if it had doubled in size and he couldn’t move it around his dry mouth.
He peeled open his eyes, one at a time, his gaze lazily scanning the room.
He sat forward and nearly toppled over. The last thing he remembered was drinking wine with Noelle beside him, her body ripe for the taking.
Only he was the one who’d been taken.
She’d drugged his wine—and he knew why. That text she’d received earlier hadn’t been from Tara. He’d been stupid not to check it himself, but it never occurred to him that she’d go off on her own to meet Zendaris’s people.
Or hadn’t it?
He knew she felt responsible for the deaths of her husband and Pierpont. She wasn’t going to allow Ted’s murder to be placed at her doorstep.
She should’ve trusted him.
How much of a head start had they gotten? He rolled his wrist inward. If they’d gone by helicopter, he’d have a helluva time catching up. Even if they’d taken off in a car, Noelle had already been alone with those maniacs long enough.
He eyed the empty glass of wine on the table in front of him. It anchored a piece of white paper. He dived for it, crinkling it in his hand.
He rubbed his blurry eyes to read the message. “‘Follow my phone.’”
She hadn’t been as naive as he feared. He lunged for his own phone and placed the most important call of his life.
On the other end of the line, he heard, “Fifty-eight, sixty-two.”
J.D. didn’t even know what the digits stood for anymore. He only knew it signaled a secure Prospero connection.
“I need a location on a cell phone.”
“Code and GPS tracker, please.”
J.D. shook his head, clearing the last wisps of fog shrouding his brain. He repeated his code name and the five-digit number of the tracking device he’d placed on Noelle’s cell phone.
After a few minutes and several clicks of a keyboard, the technician came back on the line. “Ready?”
“Go ahead.”
“Location, Buck Ridge, Colorado.” He rattled off some coordinates.
J.D. punched the coordinates into his phone, which displayed a map of the area. He zoomed in to view the location, and then brought up the directions to it.
He blew out a tense breath and rolled back his shoulders. He’d use the snowmobile to get there the back way, and then he’d have to go in on foot to approach whatever structure he encountered. They had to be someplace with electricity and amenities. They wouldn’t be in a cave or in the middle of the woods.
No time for coffee; he downed a can of cola from the fridge and grabbed another on the way out. Noelle hadn’t slipped him enough of her meds to keep him out for long. She obviously wanted him to find her, but she’d wanted to do this on her own terms. He just hoped her terms didn’t end up with her d
ead.
His eagerness to locate her had nothing to do with Zendaris or the plans. He had to save Noelle.
A half hour later, the snowmobile vibrated beneath him as he churned through the snow, dodging trees and rocks. His GPS display showed him drawing closer to the location. He couldn’t alert Noelle’s captors with the whining engine of the snowmobile, so he found a cluster of trees and abandoned the vehicle.
He slogged through the snow along the tree line as white flakes cascaded through the night air. Right now the snow was his friend, muting sounds and obscuring views.
A dark shape materialized along the edge of the trees, a sliver of light seemingly floating on one edge. As he drew closer, the shape became a small, dilapidated cabin, the light a glow from a window.
A figure appeared in front of the cabin and J.D. tensed his muscles. A lookout.
J.D. edged closer and then dropped to the ground. He carved a path through the snow with his body, army-crawling just like in the old days, keeping hidden beneath each snowdrift.
When he got close enough, he took aim with a weapon that shot poison darts. He didn’t want to kill the subject, since anyone close to Zendaris was worth questioning.
He shot one dart, then two. The figure dropped to the ground, and J.D. coiled in preparation for a reaction from the cabin. Nothing. They must be busy with something else in there.
Hunching over, he ran toward the body and pulled the person—a woman—next to the cabin so she’d be out of sight. She must be the one who had hooked up with Ted.
He did recon around the perimeter. His gut flipped when he saw the chopper, but at least it was still parked and not flying off with Noelle. He found a space beneath the front porch that led to a larger crawl space under the cabin itself. He flashed his penlight into the darkness, thankful the dead raccoon he’d just rolled over was frozen into a Popsicle.
Voices. He could hear voices from above.
Shoving through more debris, he followed the sound. Thin shafts of light pierced the crawl space and he made his way toward them. As the light fell across his hands, he blinked and pressed his face against the rotting wood.
His gaze darted back and forth, taking in the small room over his head. He couldn’t see all of the inhabitants of the room, but he could hear their voices.
He pulled a knife from his pocket and wedged the blade between two pieces of wood, prying them apart. This gave him a broader view of the room above.
And it didn’t look good.
* * *
HOW MUCH LONGER could she stall? How many more incorrect passwords could she utter before she was locked out of the file? Surely, Abby must’ve put some limit on the number of failed passwords.
She just might run out before J.D. came to her rescue. Would he even get the hint about the phone?
Her gaze darted toward the front door of the cabin. What could one man alone do to save her and Ted? If she’d gone along with J.D.’s plan, he’d have reinforcements, but she couldn’t risk Ted’s safety.
With her mouth dry, she intoned another phrase into the computer’s mic, knowing it would do nothing to unlock the file and fully aware that it might lock her out for good.
The man with the needle waved it in the air. “She’ll never remember this way, boss. I say we stick her and see what happens.”
The larger man had taken to calling the other one boss. It also seemed curious that none of them had attempted to contact Zendaris for his take on the situation, and the man with the accent had ordered the blonde to keep watch outside. He seemed accustomed to giving orders.
Was the masked man Zendaris himself?
Noelle cleared her throat. “Zendaris.”
The enforcer over her right shoulder grunted and leaned in toward the computer screen. The file didn’t open, as she’d known it wouldn’t. She just wanted to see their reaction to the name.
The man in charge glided toward her, as stealthy as a panther. “Where did you hear that name?”
“Zendaris?” She shrugged. “It was one of the names Abby had me speak into the computer. It just came to me. You see? I can remember if you give me a chance.”
The man’s long fingers slid through her hair and then curled around several strands. “Are you sure you heard that name from Abby?”
“Yes? Where else?”
His grip on her hair tightened, and her scalp tingled. “Did the police or...anyone else ever mention that name?”
“No. Now let me keep trying.”
“You claimed the man living in your guesthouse was someone from this town.”
Knots tightened in her stomach. “A friend of the family, an old boyfriend, actually.”
“Why does he carry a gun? How did he know how to detect a hidden camera?”
She snorted. “Are you kidding? A lot of people carry guns out here, and he told me he found the other camera using his cell phone. He’s not really a bodyguard or anything. I told you before. He’s a former marine. He knows stuff.”
The dark eyes in the slits of the mask narrowed, and the room got colder.
Noelle held her breath. She should’ve never mentioned the name Zendaris. She’d only done so to find out if the man standing to her left, the boss, might be Zendaris.
She’d just gotten her answer.
He snapped his fingers at the other man. “Inject her. I want to get at the truth of a couple of things, not just the password.”
With her heart hammering out an irregular staccato, Noelle jumped from her chair, knocking it over.
“Wait! I got this. It must be a name. She had me repeat the names several times. I know. I know the password.”
“Don’t give it to them, Noelle. They’ll kill us both anyway. We might as well die doing something for our country.”
Zendaris smacked Ted across the face. “Shut up, pretty boy. I liked you better when you were dumb eye candy, easy for Pia to manipulate.”
Now was the time. She had to give them the password or they’d find out about J.D. and his connection to Prospero.
She leaned into the mic and enunciated the name that had come to her an hour ago and had been burning into her brain ever since. “Cade Stark.”
The two masked men crowded around the laptop. The file, which had been moved to the computer’s desktop, highlighted and then launched.
The sound of splintering wood drowned out the crows of triumph when the file opened.
Noelle spun around in time to see J.D. staggering through the hole he’d just created in the door that led to another room in the cabin.
With his weapon held out, he kicked over Ted’s chair and jumped in front of him.
The two men on either side of Noelle scrambled for the guns they’d placed on the table near the computer.
When the noise and dust settled, the three men all had their weapons pointing at each other, and Ted was on his side, still in the chair.
The man Noelle suspected of being Zendaris spoke first. “Bold move for a small-town handyman.”
“Are you all right, Noelle?”
“I’m fine, but I had to open the file. I didn’t want them to find out that y-you might be on your way.”
“I appreciate that, darlin’, but do we just let them have that file? It must be mighty important to them if they went through all this trouble to get it.”
“Who are you?”
“Like you said, a small-town handyman just trying to protect my old friend. Would you be willing to let us go if we let you take the laptop?”
Noelle swallowed. He couldn’t mean that. He’d come too far to give up the file so easily. Her gaze darted to the computer screen, and her jaw dropped.
The enforcer must have looked at the screen the same time she did because he cursed and jabbed the other man in the back.
“Look at the file, boss.”
“Keep your gun on him, you idiot.” He backed up a few steps and glanced down at the laptop.
He cursed, too, in another language.
With the m
omentary distraction, adrenaline surged through Noelle’s body. She dived under the desk, knocking the chair into the back of Zendaris’s knees.
He staggered to the floor, his weapon spinning out of his grasp.
The deafening sound of gunfire erupted in the small space. Someone growled, and she saw the flash of a weapon out of the corner of her eye.
She screamed and flattened herself on the floor. As she lifted her head, she saw the big man push the other man toward the door.
“Get out, boss.”
Then he turned his weapon on her.
J.D. lunged toward him.
Noelle screamed. “Go after the other man. It’s Zendaris. Go after Zendaris.”
The big man roared, “If you follow him, I’ll kill her.”
J.D. stopped in midstride.
Noelle’s heart skipped a beat. He should go after Zendaris. This was his best chance. At least J.D. had a good reason to sacrifice her.
Alex had done it for himself. J.D. would do it for his country.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
The blast of gunfire from two shots echoed in her ears, the smell of gunpowder invading her nostrils. She waited for the pain, the blackness.
“Noelle!”
Strong hands gripped her arms and pulled her from beneath the desk. “Did he shoot you? Are you okay?”
Her eyes flew open. Zendaris’s enforcer lay dead on the floor, blood from the wound in his head soaking the dingy carpet.
A cold blast of air gusted in from the front door.
“Go get him. I swear it’s Zendaris.” She plucked at J.D.’s sleeve.
He crushed her against his chest. “Whether he’s Zendaris or not, it doesn’t matter anymore. He’s gone. I heard the helicopter take off.”
She grabbed the front of his jacket. “You should’ve gone after him. It was your best chance.”
“You’re my best chance.” He cupped her face in his hand, smoothing his thumbs across her cheeks. “My only regret is if that was Zendaris, he might be coming after you again. I don’t understand why he didn’t take the laptop with him.”
Clasping one of his wrists, she tugged him toward the computer and pointed at the screen.
Conceal, Protect Page 18
