by Desiree Holt
“I trust you, Reid,” Olberman told him. “You’ve been with me a long time. But the in-depth report I got on this Phoenix Agency tells me these are no ordinary men. They were the best in their military units, and they have skills most men haven’t even thought of yet. I’m considering sending in a special team to help you with this.”
McFadden’s hand tightened on the phone. “If I thought we needed that, I’d definitely let you know. But really, boss, we’re good. We set the charge last night. Now we just have to pick the time to set it off.”
“We may just get one bite of the apple,” Olberman warned, “so be sure not to screw it up. I don’t want to scare her into hiding. It would be time-consuming and expensive to have to hunt her down.”
“I won’t let you down,” McFadden promised, grinding his teeth.
He depressed the end call button and stared at the little instrument. He wanted to smash it on the floor in his irritation, but he took a deep breath and brought himself under control. He’d worked for Olberman for too many years not to know how the man’s mind worked. He could do this job. And bring the prize home.
A glance at the screen on the laptop showed the little dot on the GPS tracker moving, which told him Troy Arsenault’s car was no longer stationary. He wondered where the two people were off to now when his cell phone rang. The readout showed Fred Bonner’s name.
“Yeah?”
“Reid, Arsenault’s gone out and she’s alone in the house. I just don’t know how long he’ll be away and if we should make our move now or not.”
“No. The system’s sure to be on with him out of the house.” McFadden pulled on his jacket and lifted the small laptop, stashing it in his briefcase. “I’m on my way there. I’ll call you when I’m a block from where you are. By then I’ll know where Arsenault is and how long he might be staying. I wish we didn’t have to do this during daylight, but I guarantee you that all alarms are set when they go to bed at night. We’ll have one shot at this, and we can’t bungle it.”
“You don’t have to remind me,” Bonner growled. “I know what the situation is.”
“Everything else is set. Now it’s just a matter of timing.”
Reid had spent a great deal of time in conversation with Kurt Olberman once Lauren’s bona fides had been confirmed. Based on the newest info on The Phoenix Agency, they all agreed Lauren’s house would be like a fortress. A normal grab-and-snatch wouldn’t work here. They’d worked out what they hoped was the best plan, but it depended on split-second timing.
He nearly laughed when Arsenault’s car came to a stop and the location popped up. A grocery store, for god’s sake. Well, he supposed everyone had to eat. Too bad Lauren Cahill wasn’t the one out getting food. His task would be a lot easier.
“He’s shopping for food,” he told Bonner. “Can you believe it?”
“Maybe we can get her to come to the door,” the other man suggested.
“Highly doubtful. We have to stick to the original plan. But this may work to our advantage.”
“How so?” Bonner asked.
“Because it’s iffy whether the system’s on when they’re both in the house. But if he’s shopping, he’ll have to turn the system off long enough to carry in the groceries. He’ll pull into the garage and enter the house from there. So for a very few minutes we have a window of opportunity.”
“Okay. So we just wait until he gets home, right?”
“Yes. You sure you know what to do?”
“Fuck, Reid. We’ve gone through it enough times.”
“Okay, then. Just double-checking,” Reid soothed. “Now we wait.”
Last night, or more like two in the morning, they’d packed some C-4 against a ground-level transformer at the end of the block. Having studied the neighborhood for days while the media was having its feeding frenzy, they knew what hours lights would be out and when they’d have little chance of discovery. They had done this kind of thing many times before so they were prepared, quick and efficient. The little remote timer embedded in the explosive was controlled by a throwaway phone now sitting beside Reid in his car.
Staying alert and undiscovered was a big part of this job. This wasn’t the kind of neighborhood where a strange car could hang around for long, but they also couldn’t be too far away. He checked on Bonner every fifteen minutes and kept himself alert by working a puzzle. Finally, the dot on the computer began to move again.
He called Bonner. “He’s heading back. It’s about a ten-minute drive from there to here. Park on the street behind their house. I’ll leave my car a few blocks away and catch up to you. Get ready.”
He made it to Bonner’s car with a few minutes to spare. He’d jogged from his vehicle. After the deed he didn’t care. There was no way to identify them.
Opening the passenger door, he slid in next to Bonner. They were both dressed in black jeans and high-neck sweaters. Their hands were covered in thick black latex gloves, and they had caps to pull down over their heads.
“He’ll be pulling in right about now. Yup.” He pointed across the driver’s seat. “There he is now. Get ready.”
The two men exited the vehicle, Reid with the throwaway phone in his hand. Counting down from ten, his eyes focused on Lauren Cahill’s house, he pushed the button. The explosion was loud, echoing through the neighborhood. Some of the residents, at least those at home, ran out in the street to see what happened. As they raced across the open yards, they saw Troy Arsenault bolt from his front door.
In seconds, they were at the back door. Reid smashed the glass and reached in to turn the deadbolts so he could shove the door open all the way.
“Troy?” They heard Lauren’s voice. “What’s going on? What did you find out?”
They had reached the hallway when Lauren came from the room she’d been in, holding a small gun.
“Jesus,” Bonner whispered. “She’s armed.”
“We have to do it now,” Reid said.
Lauren spotted them as they closed in on her.
“Troy,” she called again. Then to the men, “I’ll shoot.”
But before she could pull the trigger, Reid yanked a small dart gun out of his pocket, aimed it and the tranq dart hit her in the neck. She collapsed almost at once. He threw her over his shoulder and they raced out the back door and across the lawn. He didn’t stop until they reached Bonner’s rental car. Tossing Lauren in the trunk, they took off down the street. The entire process had taken less than five minutes.
“Get to my car,” he ordered Bonner. “Hurry. Then follow me.”
They drove the two cars to the hotel’s underground parking. Making sure no one could see them, Reid pulled Lauren’s unconscious body from the trunk and transferred it to his vehicle. Then he called Olberman. “I have her,” he told his boss.
“Outstanding. I’ve had the plane on standby for the past three days. You know how to get to the airfield?”
“Yes.”
“Then get a move on.”
He disconnected the call and turned to Bonner. “You know what to do now?”
“How many times do you plan to ask me?” the other man snarled.
“Then get to it.”
Reid pulled carefully out of the garage and blended into the stream of traffic. Bonner would check both of them out and call to have the rental cars picked up. Then he’d take a cab to the airport and get on a commercial flight. Reid would board one of Olberman’s private jets with Lauren Cahill. By the time the woman woke up, they’d be well on their way to Colorado.
* * * * *
Troy wanted to kill someone. Preferably with his bare hands. Lauren was gone, and the broken back door was mute evidence that someone had taken her. He didn’t remember ever feeling such fear in his life. Trying to control his fear and rage, he did a meticulous sweep of the house and yard, looking for something, anything, that could give him a clue. He even checked with the immediate neighbors, but no one had seen anything. Like him, they’d all been distracted by the explosion
.
Yeah, that fucking explosion. A transformer at the end of the block had blown, knocking out the power in the area. He realized now it had been calculated to draw him out of the house. Whoever did this had counted on him not taking the time to reset the security system, since he wasn’t actually leaving. And like a stupid ass, that’s just what had happened.
To make everything worse, his partners were all in Canada on a high-priority rescue mission. His first thought was to call Mia and Faith, but there wasn’t much they could do at the moment. He needed to have his shit together first. Get some facts in order. Figure out how this happened.
Scrolling through his cell directory, he found the numbers for two men they used locally when the need arose. They had both helped with the media mob recently and he trusted them.
“I’ll pick up Paul and we’ll be there in fifteen,” Larry Drake told him. “We’ll do whatever we have to, but we’ll get her back.”
While he waited, Troy downloaded the pictures from the four cameras to the laptop. They had backup batteries installed so even if and when power was lost they could still function for two hours. The security system also had backup, but whoever this was had timed everything so even if the alarm was on and reset, they’d be in and out slick as an eel.
He had just finished and was starting to go through them when the front doorbell rang. Larry had made good time and he did indeed have Paul Randolph with him.
“Give us the short version,” Larry said, “and tell us where you want us to start.”
He gave them what he knew, which was damn little.
“I should have been smart enough to figure out this was a setup,” he raged. “How likely is it a transformer will blow? That hardly ever happens these days.”
“Okay.” Larry spoke as calmly and evenly as he could. “Paul, go see what the deal is about the transformer. I’ll go through the pictures with Troy.”
Troy carried the laptop into the kitchen and set it on the table.
“That’s where they came in.” He pointed at the back door. “They didn’t use too much finesse.”
Larry had his cell phone out, and he was already punching numbers. “I don’t know if they’re holding her here in town or taking her somewhere else,” he said, “but they can’t go anywhere commercial. I’ll pull up a list of private airfields in the area and get Paul to start making calls as soon as he gets back. Meanwhile, let’s look at the shots from the cameras.”
It was a tedious business. The cameras were programmed to take shots every fifteen minutes. Troy had been about ready to dismantle them. Now he was glad he didn’t. They started with that moment and worked back.
“There.” Troy touched his finger to the screen. “Here you can see me run out of the house. And here, the rear cameras catch two men racing across the backyard from the street behind us. Damn, they fixed it so you can’t see their faces.”
“I’ll tell you,” Larry said, “this was the work of pros. Look how fast they got in and out, taking Lauren with them.”
“She had a gun,” Troy said. “I left it with her when I went to the store, just in case.”
“Was she any good with it?”
“I don’t think she’s ever fired one before, but it was a simple point-and-shoot. I’m guessing she hesitated just long enough for them to tranq her. She’d never go with them unless she was unconscious.”
“They had to have scouted the area,” Larry pointed out, “so let’s go backward one shot at a time. The cameras caught every car going by. We can see which ones showed up the most often, find out who owns them and cross off the ones who live on this street.”
“I have another idea.” Troy called up the email program. “I’m sending this to our operations base in Maryland. We’ve got a computer that does everything but build a home for you and the man who runs it can out-geek anyone in the world. I still want to go through these pictures myself, because there might be something we can spot with the naked eye.”
The front door closed and Paul appeared in the kitchen.
“I checked with all the immediate neighbors, and nobody saw a thing,” he reported. “Even the people behind you. They all ran out to check on the big bang and figure out why they had no electricity.”
“They counted on it,” Paul said.
“Yeah,” Troy growled, “and I reacted without thinking. Damn it to hell anyway.”
The cold ball of fear in his stomach was growing and spreading, tempered only slightly by the rage he was struggling to control. Losing Lauren when he’d just found her might well kill him. He had never before wished for his partners as much as he did now. Larry and Paul were good, but the Phoenix men were the best of the best.
“Okay.” Larry focused on the computer screen. “Let’s check these pictures, very carefully. See what pops up.”
Troy pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “I’m calling our operations base to check in with Andy, our computer geek.”
“You want it yesterday as usual, right?” Andy asked when he answered the phone. “I’m just starting the analysis run right now. I’ve set it up with several parameters so we can filter out extraneous traffic.”
“That traffic might be what we’re looking for,” Troy objected.
“Hey, you trust my skills, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Call me the minute you get something. Anything.” He paused. “Any word on what’s happening in Canada?”
“Not yet. But wait, hold on a sec. That’s Dan on one of the other lines.”
Troy did his best to curb his impatience while he waited, but it was damn hard.
“It’s done. They’re on the way back. I’m going to patch you directly into Dan in the helo, okay?”
“Thanks.”
In seconds, Dan’s deep voice came over the line.
“We’re dropping our rescue package at the field in Maryland,” he said. “We’ll refuel and be on the way. I’ll have Andy send me everything he ships to you, so we can go over it on the way.”
“Let me know as soon as you get here, please.”
“Of course. And Troy?”
“Yeah?”
“We’ll get her back. Safe. That’s a promise.”
Troy couldn’t utter a word over the lump in his throat, so he just disconnected. The five men were closer than brothers. Whatever it took, they’d find Lauren. Alive. He had to believe that.
* * * * *
The first thing Lauren realized when she opened her eyes was the fact she had no idea where she was. The second thing was wherever she was, the place had a hum vibrating through it. The next thing was she had a headache that didn’t want to quit.
She closed her eyes, then forced them open again and sluggishly pushed herself to a sitting position.
“Have a nice nap?”
The harsh male voice came from her left. She eased her glance sideways to a man in sport coat and slacks, sitting in what looked like a leather captain’s chair. His face was devoid of all expression. Who was he and why was he here with her? Where was here, anyway?
Little by little, she took in her surroundings. She was on a plane, a private one judging by the size and interior. Someone had spent a lot of money on this luxurious plane cabin. The interior looked like someone’s living room, with captain’s chairs for seats and the oversized couch on which she was sitting. Tables that extended from the walls for the chairs and at one end of the cabin she saw what looked like a very fancy galley. There were other things that her brain was too disoriented to identify.
Apparently she’d been sleeping on the couch, but how had she gotten to it? What did this man have to do with everything?
She tried to focus again but a dull headache was playing havoc with her brain cells. Her mouth was also extremely dry, which made swallowing hard. She rubbed her temples, trying to ease the throbbing.
“Feeling a little fuzzy, miss?” The man rose from his chair. “Let me get you some water. The sedative unfortunately has some uncomfortable aftereffect
s.”
Sedative? What sedative? She desperately wished her brain would kick into gear.
“Here.” The man, who had taken a bottle of water from a small under-the-counter fridge in the galley, twisted the cap off and handed her the drink. He stood watching her for a moment before taking his seat again.
She took the bottle and drank gratefully, the cool liquid soothing her dry tissues. It seemed to help clear her brain a little too.
“Who are you?” she demanded. “And how did I get here? Where are you taking me?”
His short laugh was more of a bark. “You don’t remember anything?”
Lauren frowned, holding the cold bottle to her aching forehead. She vaguely remembered working at her computer. Then there’d been a big explosion outside and she lost all power. Troy had run out the front door to find out what happened but first he’d given her a gun…
The gun! Yes! Fuzzy pictures floated in and out of her mind. The back door crashing open. Two men dressed all in black. She remembered pointing the gun at them and then…nothing!
“What did you do to me?” She glared at the stranger. “And why?”
“My name isn’t important. All you need to know is I work for a very powerful, wealthy man who needs your services.”
As her head cleared more questions bombarded her. “My services? Is he ill? Or is it someone in his family? Why didn’t he just call me?”
“He’ll answer all your questions as soon as we reach our destination.”
Lauren took another long swallow of her water, trying to pull herself together. She wished she could think more clearly. She stared at the stranger again. There was nothing remarkable about him. He was the kind of man who could easily blend into the environment, with his dark hair, slightly olive skin and expressionless face. His clothes were just as innocuous, a dark brown sport jacket with tan slacks and a white shirt.
“You still didn’t tell me your name,” she pushed.
“Go ahead, tell her.” A man’s voice, very sharp, coming from the end of the cabin opposite what she assumed was the cockpit. His clothing was just as bland, only in tones of gray and black, but his voice had an edgy nasal tone. When the first man said nothing he went on, “He’s Reid and I’m Fred.” His short laugh had no humor to it. “Aren’t you glad to meet us?”
