by Dee, Bonnie
“Why not. You seem to have gotten everything else you want.”
“Well, actually, they never did bring my water.” A sardonic grin twisted his split lip.
Brody laughed. “Balls. I like that.” Ian bent to pick up the jacket and helped Mira into it. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her once more before moving away. “It’s been … interesting.”
“That’s it?” Brody said. “Hardly Casablanca material.”
Mira felt something hard bump against her back inside the jacket. She hadn’t thought her adrenalin level could rise any higher, but it managed to ratchet up another notch. She struggled not to show her discovery on her face as she looked into Ian’s eyes once more.
He gazed back at her, poker-faced.
“Well, that was almost touching. Move them along now,” Brody commanded his men. He called another couple of guards to escort Foster. Guns trained on the Protector, they unlocked the chain that bound his manacles to the wall and cautiously prodded him forward, out of the room.
Mira’s mind raced at the implications of Ian’s actions. He was going to be killed when Brody found out he’d been betrayed. Her stomach clenched with fear for him, but there was nothing she could do. Getting the box safely away from Brody was the most important objective. Impulsively, she darted forward and threw her arms around Ian, hugging him tight. “Thank you.”
Murav pulled her away from him, twisted her arms viciously behind her and fastening the handcuffs again. She thought the guard was disappointed at not having the opportunity to torture her, as he grabbed her upper arm and manhandled her out of the room.
She craned her neck around to catch one last glimpse of Ian.
His battered face was pale beneath his tousled black hair. He met her glance and winked.
Chapter Ten
I am so fucked. Ian’s mind raced over his plan like a rat in a maze, looking for flaws. There were plenty of them. This lame scenario sucked big time. Mira and Foster might not even make it out of the building. Brody could be toying with him, pretending to agree to his demand. Or Murav might put his hand against Mira’s back and feel the box inside the coat. Ian couldn’t believe he’d gotten away with giving her the jacket.
Even if everything worked and the others were released, he had little chance of getting out alive. He couldn’t play Brody any longer. The man was as volatile as a wolverine, his temporary mask of civility ready to slip and reveal the crazed killer inside. Before this was over, Ian was going to be in a world of hurt.
It’d be worth it though. The betrayal and disbelief in Mira’s eyes when she thought he’d failed her was much more painful than a few burns and punches. Buying back her trust with the box, seeing faith rekindled in her dark eyes and hearing her heartfelt thanks was worth every damn thing they were probably going to do to him.
“Well, Mr. Black,” Brody’s voice broke into his thoughts, making him jump. “I have to leave you for a while. I’ll have a monitor set up so you can see your friends safely out and when I come back, I expect you to keep your end of the bargain.”
He nodded.
Brody turned to leave.
“Um, one more thing,” Ian said. “I need to use the facilities. Can your guy here take me?”
Brody paused in the doorway, shaking his head. “Anything else you want? A spa and massage, maybe?”
“No. Just a john will do.”
He nodded at the guard. “Go ahead, Preston, but be careful. I think Mr. Black may be more clever than we gave him credit for.”
“Preston,” Ian said, when he was left alone in the room with Mr. Suit, the Young Republican. “Is that a first or last name?”
The guard ignored the question. “Come on.” He might look like a Boy Scout, but he didn’t sound too friendly. “Hands behind your back.”
Ian complied and felt cold steel around his wrists again. “Were you going to hold my dick for me while I take a piss? ‘Cause I don’t think we know each other that well yet.”
The frowning young man grabbed Ian’s arm and guided him through the door into the hallway. They walked down the corridor under the white glare of fluorescent lights past a number of doors. Preston stopped and opened a door marked with a blue sign indicating a unisex restroom.
“Wheelchair accessible. Your boss is an equal opportunity employer,” Ian said as the guard unlocked the cuffs. “Does he pay well? What kind of benefits package do you have?”
Preston shoved him between the shoulder blades into the room.
“Just trying to lighten the mood,” Ian said as the door shut behind him.
The small cubicle had no vent into the air duct system or window through which he might escape. He hadn’t expected it would. Setting the water running in the sink, he went to the toilet, lifted the lid of the tank and unfastened the hook holding the ballcock in place. It only took him a few seconds to snap off the three-inch long metal pin from its plastic base.
He thrust it down the front of his pants, nestling it alongside his dick. He hoped to hell it wouldn’t fall down the leg of his jeans. Then he zipped up his fly and lifted the chain in the tank by hand to flush the toilet.
Ian looked around the restroom to see if there was anything else he could use. He took the toilet paper off the roll to see if there was a spring mechanism, but it was held in place by some kind of metal strips, impossible to break off.
Preston knocked on the door. “Hurry up.”
He quickly splashed water on his face and took a long drink from the running tap before opening the door. “This is a really nice work environment. You’re lucky. What do you do when you’re not guarding prisoners? How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to know not to ask questions.” Preston gave up on the cuffs, prodding him along the hall with a pistol to the back.
Ian considered playing sick, doubling over and wresting the gun from Preston’s hand, but he didn’t know if he could do it without getting shot. Besides, he couldn’t make any kind of move until he knew Mira was safe.
Preston escorted him back to the cell and left him there alone. “I’ll be right outside.”
The door locked behind the guard. He scanned the room for any way out, but again there were no ductwork vents or convenient ceiling tiles through which he might escape like in the movies. Taking a seat on his folding chair, his leg jiggled nervously as seconds ticked by. He thought wistfully of the last cigarette still in the coat pocket. This waiting was killing him—that and fear of more torture.
He pictured Mira and Foster herded back into one of the trucks, driven through the gate of the retreat center and on the road to the city. By now they might be exiting the highway and driving toward the heart of Indianapolis. God, he wished he were with them.
Uncounted minutes passed before there was a knock on the door and Preston let a tech guy into the room. The man barely glanced at Ian, opened a laptop and with a few clicks of the mouse brought up a live image onscreen. The handheld webcam bounced with the movements of the vehicle. Ian stared at the jumpy picture of Mira sitting on the floor of the van. Probably the last time I’ll see her.
She looked into the camera just then and her dark eyes seemed to find him. Ian didn’t know if it was wishful thinking on his part, but he could swear he heard her thought beaming in his head again. Be strong. I believe in you.
A moment later the van pulled to a halt. The guards unlocked Mira’s cuffs and someone on the outside opened the rear doors of the SUV.
“Ah, just in time.” Brody’s unexpected voice startled Ian. He’d been so focused on the computer screen he hadn’t heard the man enter the room.
He held his breath, praying Foster wouldn’t do something stupid to wreck this by giving his captors a karate chop when they let him loose. It sounded like something Captain America would do. But the moment of release was almost anticlimactic. With guns pointed at Mira’s head, there was little Foster could do when the manacles were taken off his feet and hands. The guards backed off, leaving Mira
and Foster standing in an alley.
The camera followed them as they walked up the alley to a sidewalk full of pedestrians and stayed trained on them until they disappeared around the corner. The image bounced up and down as the cameraman climbed into the SUV again, then the doors closed and the camera was turned off.
“Satisfied?” Brody said.
“Yes.” Ian’s heart pounded as the moment of truth crashed upon him. He was truly alone in this now. There was no taking back what he’d done. All he could do was act out his plan and wish he hadn’t decided to play the hero. “Here’s the thing. I don’t exactly have access to the box anymore … but I can tell you what I did with the amulet that was inside it.”
* * * *
Justin stalked down the crowded sidewalk so fast Mira could barely keep up. “I can’t believe he cut a deal, the little weasel.”
“To save our lives! But, he didn’t, Justin. Stop!” She grabbed his arm. “I’ve got the box. It’s in the lining of the coat.”
“What?”
“Feel.” Mira turned around.
Justin’s hand moved down her back until it came to the rectangular bump. “I’ll be damned!”
“Ian saved us and the box. We’ve got to do something. Brody will kill him.” She turned around to face him again. “We can’t let him be tortured to death!”
Justin’s face was almost comically shocked. “Guess I underestimated him.” He drew a breath to refocus. “Okay, the prime imperative is still keeping the box safe and taking it to KOTE. Maybe then we can figure out some way to save Black.”
Justin’s cell phone had been removed, but they’d left his wallet so he had some cash to place a call at a nearby pay phone.
Mira stood outside the booth, scanning the sidewalk and street for pursuers. She racked her brain for a way to save Ian. Waiting for help from KOTE would take too long.
“They’re sending reinforcements,” Justin said when he rejoined her. “We’re supposed to wait for them to get here.”
“No. It’ll be too late. You take the box and get it to safety. I’m going back for Ian.”
“What? It’s impossible, Mira! What could you possibly do to help him?”
She slipped the heavy jacket off her shoulders and handed it to Justin, and shivered in Ian’s oversized T-shirt in the cool evening air. The sun had set quickly and it was almost full dark now. Streetlights and light from storefronts juxtaposed with deep shadows.
Justin clutched the jacket in one hand. “I can’t let you do this. You’re safe and that’s what Ian wanted. As a Keeper, you’d be a valuable tool in Brody’s hands. You can’t risk being caught again.”
“I won’t. Trust me. I have a plan. I don’t intend to be captured.”
“Nobody ever does.”
“Trust me.”
* * * *
“You did what?” Brody’s face was tomato-red and his jaw clenched and released spasmodically. Ian hoped he’d have a stroke.
“Calm down. Yes, KOTE has the box, but while they’re figuring out what to do with it and whether they should open it—cause they seem to think it’ll unleash evil on the world or something—you’ll have the important thing. The amulet. This will keep KOTE off your back for a while.”
“My father didn’t give me an amulet to guard. He gave me a box. He’s going to want a box!” Brody’s voice rose.
Ian heard the stark fear in it and realized his serious error. It wasn’t the contents of the box that mattered to Brody. He was afraid of his father. Dangling the carrot of an amulet wasn’t going to distract Brody from trying to regain the goddamn box.
He’d thought it was clever to tell a partial truth. When lying, it was always better to tell as much of the truth as possible. And his story about confiscating an imaginary amulet during the course of the road trip would buy much needed time. Brody’s men were on the road back to the motel where Ian and Mira had stayed. By the time they’d driven there, searched the room for the amulet, maybe questioned the cleaning lady, Ian might have a chance to escape.
“I’m sorry. It was a miscalculation,” Ian soothed. “I was trying to help you.”
Brody put a hand to his forehead, rubbing it and shielding his eyes for a moment. When he looked up again, he appeared suddenly calm, which freaked Ian out even more. A man with such erratic mood swings might lash out and do something crazy at any moment. He’d had a lot of firsthand experience with that.
“All right,” Brody said. “You screwed up, but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt that it was an honest mistake. If my men recover this amulet, I may reconsider whether or not I’m going to kill you.”
“Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
“Describe it to me again and tell me exactly where you put it.”
Ian had spent plenty of time dreaming up a description. “It’s a big honking piece of bling, a sterling silver or maybe platinum chain and setting with some kind of big stone in the center. The stone is bluish-white, like an opal or something, I don’t know. It gave off a kind of electrical charge when I touched it. It’s not like I got a shock or anything, but I could feel a … force field, I guess you’d call it, surrounding it. Scared the crap out of me.”
“And you were in room number 12?”
“Yeah. When Kashi was sleeping, I worked on the box until I got it open then ripped up the edge of the carpet in a corner of the room and hid the amulet underneath. I knew I could come back and get it any time and figured that kind of leverage might come in useful later. Guess I was right.”
“The Keeper never noticed the box was lighter or tried to open it?”
Ian shook his head. “I got a chunk of asphalt from the parking lot and put it in place of the amulet before I locked the box back up. It has a really tricky little mechanism. Not easy to figure out unless you’re used to picking locks. Foster gave me a heart attack when he started examining the catch, but Kashi told him to leave it alone, that he didn’t know what he might be releasing and the mages at KOTE should have first crack at it.”
Ian told his story with complete conviction. Timing, confidence and the ability to lie like a politician were critical to him getting out of this alive. He looked Brody square in the eye without blinking.
“I’ll find out if you’re telling me the truth soon enough. If you’re lying again, you’re going to beg to die before Murav is through with you.”
“Why would I make up something this crazy? I could have just told you the box was somewhere in the woods.”
“You already did,” Brody said dryly.
“And I was lying, see. But now I’m telling you the truth. Believe me, I don’t want my legs broken or fingernails torn out. I wouldn’t yank your chain about this.”
Brody’s cell phone went off.
Ian’s stomach leaped to his mouth. How could they have gotten there so soon?
“Yeah?” Brody answered the phone. “Uh-huh.” He glanced at Ian then walked out of the room to take the call, leaving him alone with Preston.
“Is there always this much excitement around here or is it usually pretty boring for the security squad?” he baited the young guard. “It seems like you’ve got a plum assignment here, guarding my ass.”
Preston stared at him, grimacing in distaste. “Mr. Black, you’re not as amusing as you think you are. Shut up.”
“Hey, just making conversation.”
A moment later Brody came back into the room. “I have things to attend to. You’ve already taken up far too much of my time. I’ll be back after I’ve received news from California.”
Ian had been waiting for this moment, planning the right words and the supplicating tone. “I know I’ve been a lot of trouble, Mr. Brody, but, can I ask for one more thing? I’m exhausted. Could you lock me in a bedroom somewhere so I can get some sleep?”
“No, Mr. Black. You wait right here.” Brody turned and left, taking Ian’s hope with him.
The lock in this room was not the kind he could use his makeshift pick on. It
required a key card. His slim hopes had been resting on the chance that another room might have a traditional lock or he’d be able to escape in transit to a different part of the facility. Instead he was stuck in the same tiny cell with no hope of rescue. He was royally fucked.
* * * *
With Justin’s credit card, Mira rented a car, a nondescript, dark-blue mid-size.
“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this. It’s crazy. Do you even have a plan?”
Mira tossed the car keys on her palm. “I said trust me. I know I’m doing the right thing. I can feel it.” It was impossible to explain her deep conviction that she was following an almost fated course of action. “And so are you. Just keep the box safe. Don’t worry about me.”
“Since they’re sending back-up, I guess they don’t trust me to get the job done.” Justin shook his head. “I’ve really screwed up. I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job of protecting you.”
Mira squeezed his arm. “Hey, even a Protector isn’t Superman. Sometimes things just don’t work out.” She looked out the dealership window at the darkening night. “I’ve got to go. In a couple of hours, if everything goes well, I’ll meet you at the bar by the payphone where you made the call.”
As she walked toward the car, Justin’s voice stopped her. “Mira!”
She turned.
His face was pale. Sharp lines grooved the sides of his tight-lipped mouth. “Be careful.”
“I will.”
* * * *
Ian paced back and forth then round and round the room, frantic as a trapped rat while the minutes ticked past. He couldn’t think straight anymore. The burns and bruises on his body hurt like a sonofabitch, reminding him much harsher tortures were in store for him. He put a hand to his eye, fingering the swollen flesh around it.
Okay. Focus. It’s not going to get any better than this. Work with what you’ve got. So what did he have? Free hands, a small metal pin, a door he couldn’t open and a guard sitting outside in the hall even if he could. Preston had chosen not to stay in the room listening to Ian’s stream of bullshit.
