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The Widow: Federal Hellions Book 1

Page 27

by Gardner, Gray


  By the time the train stopped in New York she was feeling a little better, and even smiled at the other kids as they exited the train and walked to the hotel. Dr. Byrd kept her close, standing in the lobby with his hand clutching her coat as everyone checked in and went up the elevators.

  “Ben,” he said, calling Dr. Howard. “Get the students in bed in thirty minutes. Keep an eye on them tonight. Big day tomorrow.”

  “Yes sir,” he nodded, herding the rest of the kids towards the elevators.

  “Ashton?” Dr. Byrd called, waving the little blonde girl over.

  George closed her eyes as Ashton bounced over.

  “Yes, Dr. Byrd?”

  “Would you please come with us on an errand?”

  “Sure! Let me give my suitcase to Robbie so that she can take it upstairs.”

  “I’ll take it,” Dr. Howard said, taking her things as she pointed them out. He nervously eyed Byrd and George, then turned and briskly joined the other kids.

  “Please!” George begged in a whisper, looking up at Dr. Byrd. “I’m doing everything you want! Please leave her out of it!”

  Yes, it sounded a little desperate, but if he took a moment to think about things he would find he couldn’t really hurt cute little Ashton, could he? He wasn’t completely heartless. How could anyone be?

  “She’s just insurance,” he nodded. “Do what you’re told and she walks.”

  George looked horrified as Ashton skipped over and smiled.

  “I can’t tell you how fun it is to have Jane with us,” Ashton babbled happily as they left the hotel and got into a town car. “She’s like, really smart. It was a great idea to invite her to join the Council. And everyone likes her, too. She’ll make friends with the other members like, immediately.”

  George rubbed her eyes and exhaled as Ashton continued in the back of the car. She was on her right, Dr. Byrd on her left. If she wasn’t a sixteen-year-old, George would have leaned over, opened the door, and shoved her out. As it was, she was afraid of hurting her in the busy city.

  “Ms. Wynn,” Dr. Byrd began, holding the bridge of his nose. “It’s quiet time now.”

  “But I’m just so excited!” she squealed in that teenage girl way. “I get to show her around and introduce her to the other delegates.”

  “It’s quiet time or you’re going to find yourself with a paddled bottom,” he firmly stated, looking over at her side of the car.

  Jane’s mouth dropped open and she was about to defend the little girl when Ashton’s giggle caught her attention.

  “Oh, Jane, don’t look so worried! He always says that and never follows through. Just a big softee, isn’t he?”

  Jane turned her head back to the headmaster, who gave her a knowing wink and then looked straight ahead. Holy shit. He had everyone fooled.

  The lights around them dimmed as Dr. Byrd kept giving the driver instructions and Ashton kept right on talking. How could this night possibly have a good ending?

  * * *

  Conrad Thomas went about his Tuesday like any other, missed Jane at lunch, then grew suspicious when she didn’t show for his class. She was mad and probably embarrassed. Why did he have to act like such a pompous asshole? When he couldn’t find her at dinner, he decided to approach Dr. Howard.

  His office lights were on so Conrad jogged up the steps and walked down the long hallway. Dr. Howard was standing in front of Dr. Byrd’s office, chatting with him, then turned and waved.

  “Conrad,” he walked over, leading him inside.

  “Ben,” he nodded, looking around the large wood-paneled office for any sign of her. “Uh, Jane George…”

  “Yes,” Dr. Howard sighed, arranging papers on his desk as he leaned over it. “I thought you might be looking in on her. You won’t see her for a couple of days. I suspended her.”

  “Suspension?” Conrad interrupted, trying to look less nervous than he felt standing in front of a criminal. A criminal who looked guilty. He sounded guilty. How could he look at one of his friends and just lie like this? How could he potentially be harming a little girl and be talking so indifferently?

  “Don’t worry, she’ll be back Friday with an entirely different attitude.”

  Conrad nodded and backed away to the door. There was nothing he could do or say that wouldn’t throw suspicion his way. “Well, all right then.”

  “See you at the meeting Thursday?” he smiled, looking happy and guilty all at once. Did he have her stashed somewhere? Had he hurt her? Something worse?

  “Thursday,” Conrad confirmed, quickly leaving.

  Something was definitely wrong. Where was Jane?

  He couldn’t stand not knowing.

  He called Director Nelson, but of course couldn’t get through. He called half of the Georges listed in DC, but nothing happened there either. He was beginning to worry that she was either going off the deep end and was in hiding, planning on doing something really stupid, or the alternative: Dr. Howard had gotten rid of her.

  Then he saw her on Friday, just as promised by Ben Howard. His relief was soon met with concern, however. She was hunched over underneath her coat and was shuffling her feet as she walked next to Dr. Byrd. Had she confided in him and found a way to bring down Howard? He jogged over, but she suddenly turned her pale face towards him and shook her head. She had sensed he was coming and didn’t want him there.

  He paused and stood amongst the bustling students underneath an archway. She didn’t look well. He scanned her little figure and saw what looked like large purple bruises on her legs, peeking out from under her skirt. He knew what those were, having experienced many paddlings during his time at boarding school.

  She looked like she was heading off with the UN Youth Council kids, though. Was it part of the punishment?

  The suspense was killing him. She looked like she was in trouble and she looked sick. Did she need his help? Did she know what she was doing? He felt like he knew her well, but not well enough to read her face.

  He ran to his office, breaking through groups of talking kids and quickly apologizing as he hurried to his door. Once inside, he frantically found the number where he’d reached Elizabeth Darby before, when she’d brought Jane a cocktail dress.

  “Yeah?”

  “Elizabeth?”

  “You got her,” she replied, sounding like she was clanking car parts around.

  “Uh, is this a bad time?”

  “Nah. Just cleaning my Winchesters. Conrad, is that you? What’s going on?”

  “It’s probably nothing.”

  He heard her suck her breath in. “Where is she?”

  Conrad breathed a sigh of relief. The US government trained their clandestine operatives well. He hadn’t said anything, and she already knew everything.

  “She disappeared for four days, and now I think she’s on her way to New York with the man we suspect is the connection to the suppliers,” Conrad said, wondering if she’d be privy to classified DOJ information.

  “Baylor and I will be there in half an hour.”

  “But—”

  She hung up on him. She didn’t even know where he was or what he was talking about. She was a loyal friend, though, so he trusted her. He paced around as he planned his next move. Jane was in trouble and he had to help. He couldn’t not help.

  He picked the phone up again and dialed one of his friends he’d met while in Iraq.

  “Sanders, here.”

  “Mike, it’s Conrad Thomas.”

  “Mr. Big Time,” Sanders laughed on the other end of the line. “Hey, I have about ninety-five percent movement in my shoulder.”

  “Told you it would heal,” Conrad replied, rubbing his eyes. He’d happened upon a couple of SEALs who were hit with a roadside bomb and then shelled until they were left for dead. He patched them both up and managed to save one. It was a turning point for him to watch a fully grown, powerful man weep openly when he heard his friend hadn’t made it. They’d been friends ever since. “So, you cleared for o
perations?”

  “What do you need?” Sanders playfully asked. “Escort through the throngs of nerdy women throwing their bras at you?”

  “Not exactly.” He sighed as he heard a rumbling outside of his office. “I need some help with a friend of mine. She may have gotten in over her head.”

  He had just explained Jane’s situation and had received a maybe from Sanders when the rumbling was so loud he couldn’t hear anything else. He hung up and ran outside, finding a Bell helicopter blowing grass and snow in the field next to the building. Then Elizabeth Darby and Baylor Burton leaned out, motioning for him to come to them.

  “Wow, you really got here in thirty minutes,” he said, as they placed a helmet with a mic on his head and strapped him in. Their husbands, Ryan Peterson and Pete Connor, gave a wave from the front, then turned back to the gears and they lifted off.

  “You said she was going to New York?” Baylor asked, shouting at him, her voice coming through speakers in the helmet.

  “Yeah.” He nodded as they banked and his stomach fell to the side. “She didn’t look like herself.”

  “Describe it,” Baylor demanded, looking at him as though she could read him like a book.

  ‘I don’t—”

  “Was it a crazed look?” Ellie asked, gripping a hanging strap as the helicopter lurched a little. She threw a look over her shoulder. “Babe, I told you I’d drive.”

  “You don’t get to do this kind of stuff on your own anymore,” Peterson said sternly, looking back over his shoulder as Connor did the same. Both women rolled their eyes.

  “No, she didn’t look crazed or anything,” Conrad replied.

  “Distant?” Baylor encouraged.

  “She looked defeated.”

  “Shit,” Ellie uttered through her teeth. She rubbed her hands together and looked at him. “That means she’s probably turning herself over.”

  “Over to who?” he asked, wondering if traveling by helicopter was a customary means of travel for this group.

  “The Colombians,” Baylor sighed, loading a clip into her pistol and twisting on a silencer. She did it as casually as Conrad would have loaded paper into a copier.

  “That doesn’t sound good.” He frowned, his heart thumping at the thought of Jane being tortured.

  “It’s suicide,” Baylor added, throwing more clips into a bag. “We need to find where they’re meeting and intercept her.”

  “They have fifteen kids from the school there, and the headmaster,” Conrad said, jumping and leaning back as Baylor stuffed a pistol into the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

  “Then we’ll have to take out the dean first.” Ellie nodded, looking down at her papers. “Here’s his picture, Baylor.”

  “Dr. Ben Howard,” she said, memorizing every feature on his face as she studied the picture. She gave a half smile as she looked like she might enjoy destroying him.

  Conrad tried to pretend he saw stuff like this every day, but he had to admit he was pretty much in awe of their resources and determination. And the fact that they acted like they did shit like this every day to save their friends. He knew he could trust them. Jane’s friends would do anything for her. He rubbed his knees, hoping they wouldn’t be too late.

  At dusk they landed on the rooftop of the hotel where Conrad said the UN Youth Council always stayed, then the five of them quickly persuaded the staff to tell them what room Dr. Ben Howard would be staying in. Conrad didn’t realize how lucky he was that this kind of persuasion involved charm and nothing else.

  They stood in front of room 1901, the four experienced feds pulling their dark ski masks over their faces, ready to start firing, when Conrad quickly held up his hands.

  “Wait,” he said, standing between the death squad and the door. “Just… what if there are students in there?”

  “We don’t miss,” Connor said, voice muffled behind the mask.

  Conrad gave a nervous laugh and stepped aside as he said, “Just try not to scare the kids.”

  Peterson kicked the door open and they burst inside, yelling for everyone to hit the floor. Dr. Howard and the entire UN Youth Council screamed and covered their heads.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” Conrad loudly said, tripping over spilled chess pieces and gaming remotes as he rounded up the kids and pushed them into the corner of the large suite. They were all crying and watching in horror as Dr. Howard was pressed against the wall by four terrorists in ski masks who had huge guns. God, this did look pretty bad.

  “Well well, Benny,” Ellie said, shoving her silenced pistol up under his chin. “Care to admit to anything before the interrogation begins?”

  “W-what?” he choked out, sweat dripping off of his face as he eyed Conrad and the kids on the other side of the room.

  Ellie turned and shot at one of the bed pillows, sending feathers flying in a puff and making everyone in the corner wince. “I asked if you might have anything to say before I start shooting off appendages.”

  “I-I’m just the advisor for the St. Patrick’s UN Youth Council,” he squeaked, spitting as he spoke.

  Ellie stepped back and wiped her mask, then theatrically loaded the chamber of the automatic. “All right.”

  Click.

  “Wait!” he screamed, closing his eyes. “Kids! Tell them! Conrad, please.”

  “He is just our advisor,” a boy said, as everyone half nodded in horror. They all looked to Dr. Thomas for comfort. He had none to give at the moment. He was desperate to find out what Ben Howard knew. And he fully trusted that Jane’s four closest friends wouldn’t harm children.

  “Where’s Jane George?” Conrad asked, stepping in front of the kids. “She’s supposed to be here!”

  “She and Ashton left,” Dr. Howard cried, eyes still closed. “They broke curfew.”

  “Bullshit,” Baylor growled, stepping forward and shooting him in the foot as cavalierly as she would stomp on a cockroach.

  He wailed as Peterson and Connor held him back against the wall. Conrad backed up and stood in front of the huddled kids, not certain this was something they should be watching. Then he thought back to Jane. She’d probably see this as an opportunity to inspire a scared straight program.

  “You’ve been using Christian Whitman and James Clancy as your mules, as your fall guys!” he loudly said, still standing in his gray suit in front of the students. “You got Christian to use his credit card to buy a prepaid cell, you use his car, and now he’s half dead in a hospital in DC, along with James Clancy. Tell me, Ben, is that what happened to Ross Quinton? Did you execute him?”

  The kids all gasped as they tried to peer around their professor and get a better look at the dean. This was way better than the CW.

  “No.” Dr. Howard groaned, closing his eyes as sweat poured off of his face. “God, I can’t feel my foot.”

  “I’ll shoot the other one in ten seconds,” Baylor stoically said. “Now tell us where the girl and Jane are.”

  “I don’t know, I swear,” he cried, shaking his head. “Please.”

  Baylor looked at Ellie, who nodded her head. She released the clip, checked the ammo, then shoved it back in with another intimidating click. Dr. Howard whimpered as he tried to figure out what to do.

  “Time’s up,” Baylor calmly said, shooting his other foot as he howled.

  “Dude,” Ellie said, behind her mask. “A, that wasn’t ten seconds, and B, I get to do his hands.”

  “He’s going to talk,” Baylor nodded.

  “Aw. Then why didn’t you let me shoot his other fucking foot!”

  “It’s up to you, Benny,” Baylor said, stepping back and watching the grown man start to beg. It wouldn’t be long before he gave up the location.

  “I haven’t shot anyone in weeks,” Ellie continued to whine.

  “She really hasn’t,” Baylor confirmed. “She gets antsy.”

  “P-please,” Dr. Howard sniveled, as Peterson and Connor let him fall to his knees in a growing pool of blood. “Please, I don�
��t know! I swear I don’t know!”

  “Well, someone took them somewhere,” Peterson sighed, grabbing a lamp cord out of the wall and wrapping it around Dr. Howard’s neck, yanking back. “I can pull you in and out of consciousness for hours if you’d like.”

  “What? How come you get to choke him!” Ellie huffed, sitting back on the edge of the bed and exhaling loudly.

  Peterson released the cord and Dr. Howard fell forward, hitting the patterned industrial carpet face first and gasping for air. Ellie stood up.

  “Can I at least kick him?” she asked, drawing her leg back.

  “Wait,” Peterson said, pulling his wife’s black jacket. “Look.”

  “Okay, okay!” he cried, face smashed into the carpet.

  Connor leaned down, grabbed the man’s graying hair and pulled him back up to his knees.

  “They took a town car to the piers.”

  “Which piers?” Baylor asked, leaning down and looking at him. If they were getting on a ship, then time was running out.

  “There’s a cargo ship,” he coughed, looking like he was about to pass out. He tried to grab his feet and winced. “Heading for South America.”

  “Shit,” Baylor groaned, looking at everyone. “A mobile lab.”

  “We need to hurry,” Connor said, heading for the door.

  “You stay here,” Baylor ordered, walking out and pointing at Conrad.

  “Wait!” he objected, as she turned and put a hand on his chest.

  “These kids need you, Conrad. And someone needs to get the DEA here to arrest that sack of shit,” she said, calmly reminding him of his responsibilities.

  “I can’t,” he began, looking back at the kids and wishing he could be in two places at once. “I can’t not go.”

  “I understand.” She nodded. “I really do, but it would be better for everyone if you stayed here.”

  He stepped after her just as Peterson brushed past him. “See you, Conrad. Okay, do your thing, sweetheart.”

  Conrad turned in enough time to see Ellie ram her foot into Dr. Howard’s abdomen, then whack him across the face with her pistol. He fell to the floor in an unconscious clump and she exhaled happily as she walked past Conrad.

 

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