by Alana Terry
She heard the buzz of his cell phone before he could reach in his pocket and pull it out. “If they’re calling to say we’re free to leave, I don’t wa—”
Before she could finish, he jerked her up, whispering into her ear. “Shh. Follow me, don’t talk, and try not to make any noise.”
Though she knew fear must have washed over her face as well as her heart, Erika nodded, swallowed hard, and reached for his hand. If they had to be quiet, she wanted him close. The minute his wrapped around hers, he gave it a squeeze before he pulled her up behind the guardrail. “Ugh. There’s another semi coming. Run!”
She wanted to ask why they didn’t wait, but she couldn’t. His feet pounded across Highway 101, nearly pulling her through the air behind him. She stumbled, but as if able to keep her afloat by his sheer willpower, he jerked her up behind him and then flattened them both against a tree.
“Shh. We have to keep moving but let the semi pass. If a car comes, we become one with a tree, got that?” His whisper in her ear sounded stern—almost fierce.
Despite her bravado, Erika trembled. The idea that they were vulnerable, out in the woods, unprotected and with no way to escape, terrified her. “You won’t leave me behind, will you?”
“They’re going to get him, Erika. Karen, David—the team is all ready to close in. Just follow me and keep quiet.”
He dragged her through the woods of the Siuslaw National Forest, and away from the wonderful cottage. She didn’t want to go back to a place like that second—or even the first cabin. No, Erika liked having TV reception and a good kitchen to cook in if she wanted, thank-you-very-much. She hadn’t even had a chance to do it.
Sounds behind them seemed to squeeze an involuntary whimper from her. Keith’s hand pulled her closer and then released hers while he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “It’s okay, Erika. I’ve got you; we’ve got your back; this is almost over.”
“Over? As in, I get to go home over?”
Under cover of so many trees, the moonlight hid the smile she knew he wore, but his words said it all. “As in, you’ve got your life back over.”
“How long?”
“An hour? Two. I just have to keep you as far away as possible in case there’s anyone around the perimeter watching for escape.”
She started to squeal—highly out of character for her. Erika considered it understandable under the circumstances, but Keith clamped his hand over her mouth. “Shh. We’re not out of the woods yet.” The merest hint of a chuckle rumbled in his chest before he added, “So to speak.”
They walked for an hour, stopping every few feet to listen and for Keith to scan the terrain with his infrared binoculars—how had she not noticed them?— before they continued for the next yard or two. Part of her wondered if it weren’t an act—some kind of pretext to make her think things were worse than they really were so she wouldn’t go public with her story.
Then he froze. She felt the tension fill him so quickly that she feared his nerves would snap. He jerked her against a tree trunk and held her close while he listened. Taking a deep breath, he whispered. “You have to do exactly what I say. Do you understand?”
Terrified, Erika just nodded, her eyes answering, though she knew he couldn’t see them. “Good. Stay here. Count to twenty. Then, dart from tree to tree in a straight line. Can you do that?”
She shook her head. The fear mounted until she felt like a little girl again. “No, please—”
He peered around the tree with his binoculars and growled in frustration. “Erika, I really need you to do this. We’re sitting ducks here. If you go, he’ll follow, and I can take him down from behind.” Each word was the merest whisper in her ear. How a man with such a deep voice could speak so silently, she’d never understand.
“I—”
“I knew you could do it. Pretend Corey just told you that you couldn’t.”
His words infuriated her. If he had to use Corey to get some backbone into her, then she must really sound pathetic. Her feet crunched the leaves as she dashed from tree to tree. She hadn’t spoken to God since she was tiny, but Erika prayed with every step. Terror filled her heart as she forced herself to keep going, even as she heard footsteps following—gaining on her.
Self-preservation stepped in and overtook her. She began zig-zagging, hoping as she did, that it’d make aiming at her difficult. Why hadn’t the guy shot yet? Could it be one of Keith’s co-workers? What if he took down a good guy!
Suddenly, she realized she didn’t hear footsteps anymore. She paused, listening, and then started to run again, but a hand clamped over her mouth and jerked her. “Shh. I got him.”
She whirled, eyes staring up into Keith’s face, stunned. How had he shot anyone? She didn’t hear a thing. “How—”
“He’s zipped about thirty yards back. The second you took off, he took off after you, so I got him fast. Just had to get you then.”
“So,” she sighed, and then began to speak in a normal tone, “you—”
His hand covered her mouth again. “Shh. We don’t know who all are out here. We keep moving until I get the call.”
With each mile that they traversed, Erika thought she’d go crazy. Twice, he flattened her against a tree, his hand over her mouth, and his body rigid with tension. Each time, he’d slowly relaxed, took a deep breath, and apologized. “Sorry, I’m jumpy.”
“Hey, if it’s keeping us safe....”
The call came just as Erika was ready to beg to stop for a snack. The adrenaline rush, combined with too long since dinner, made her dizzy. She listened to his side of the conversation, and then froze when a sound—one that didn’t fit—broke through her consciousness. Erika tugged his sleeve, but he ignored her until she jerked the phone away and covered her lips with her finger.
Keith nodded, disconnected the call, and pulled her close behind him, scanning the trees again with his binoculars. Once he found his target, he pulled her around the tree and whispered, “Can you manage one more time? I think I can call out to you this time, so you won’t have to run as much.”
It took every ounce of strength she had left, but Erika nodded. It was almost over. She could do this. She could go home if she could just do this. “Tell me when to go.”
The crunch of boots coming their way nearly drove her insane. Seconds passed as he waited, and then she ran when his finger pointed in the direction she should go. The heavy footfalls of a larger, heavier-shoed man sounded ominous to her, but then silence came. She kept going for a few yards, and then dared to glance over her shoulder. Nothing.
As her neck craned to see what could have happened, she ran into a tree, stunning her. How stupid could she be? Disoriented, she stood, trying to get her bearings, and then watched agape as Keith fought a man. Where the gun was, she didn’t know, but from the way he fought, she didn’t think he’d need it. For a moment, she changed her mind and started to run again, but fury drove her back toward the fighting men. Keith saw her and ordered her to go, sending the other man scurrying in her direction, but Keith tackled him again, sending another fist into the man’s face.
“Where’s your gun?”
“He knocked it out of my hand, now get out of here!”
“Where were you?” Seeing him ready to refuse to tell her, she shook her head. “I’m going to look either way, so you’d better just tell me.”
“At the base of that tree, now get it and go!”
It took several frenzied seconds of scrambling to find the gun, aim it at the man who now straddled Keith, and fire—nothing happened. “The safety,” he choked out.
Erika fumbled with it, trying to feel for anything that might be a “safety” and then found a little button above the trigger. Feeling quite smug, she released the safety and promptly squeezed the trigger.
Wooziness overtook her. Erika’s last conscious thought barely had time to formulate. I can’t believe I just shot myself at a time like this.
Chapter 17
A HAZE COATED THE ROOM
and voices sounded garbled as Erika fought unconsciousness. When an unfamiliar face loomed over her, calling her name in what seemed like exaggerated enunciation, she screamed and went ballistic. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Erika tried to fling herself from the bed and escape the room full of strange faces.
“It’s okay, Erika, just calm down. We don’t want to have to sedate you—”
Another voice called for Keith, and hearing the name made her pause. “You have Keith too?”
Her eyes tried to make out the man in the doorway, but until she heard his voice, much less garbled than any of the others, she wasn’t sure. “Erika, relax. The tranq isn’t out of your system yet.”
“The what!”
He snickered as he motioned for the others to leave the room. “You shot yourself with my gun, remember?”
“Tranquilizer gun? Seriously?” Before he could answer, she shook her head as if it would actually clear it. “Wait, no, that’s not possible. They don’t use tranquilizer guns on people. I did a whole paper on that in high school.”
“Well, that was a few years ago, Erika.”
“No, no,” she sat up again as if determined to prove him wrong. “I was arguing with Jerry at work a couple of weeks ago. He didn’t believe me, so I looked it up on Google. It’s too easy to overdose and kill people.”
“Well, let’s just say that we have a specially formulated tranquilizer.”
She shook her head. “Either way, you have to know how much to give a person—you have to know their weight and everything, or it’s too much.”
“We know all that about you, Erika. That’s who the gun was for, remember? For you?”
“But you shot that guy—the one following us.”
Keith sat next to her and offered her a cola. “Drink. Yeah, I had to shoot him with it. He’d have killed us. I just had to hope I didn’t overdose him.”
“Respiratory failure.”
“Yep. You did your homework. But, normally I’d have used a Glock, so this way, he still had a better shot—no pun intended,” Keith joked, “—than if I just used my regular weapon of choice.”
“What about the guy you were fighting?”
“He’s in custody. We got them, Erika. You can go home as soon as the drugs are out of your system. They’re making the arrangements now.”
“It’s over?” The words seemed too impossible to believe. Part of her had become convinced that she’d be in hiding for the rest of her life for something she didn’t understand or remember. None of it made sense, but the relief did. She could go home. No more locks, shackles, keys, or guns. No more Corey, no more, Karen, no more Keith.
For a brief moment, she felt a pang at the thought of no more banter with Keith, but it didn’t last. She pushed herself from the bed and glanced around the room. “Where’s my bag? I’m ready to go.”
FIJI—
“Helen, Helen, wake up.”
As a younger woman, Helen Franklin had been attractive. Her features, unique enough to be considered exotic, were striking and appealing, but every year after thirty-five added angles and harsh lines that stripped the beauty and changed her into something almost masculine-looking. In her fight against aging, she slept with ear plugs, eye mask, and face cream. She also had a facial routine, morning and night, that rivaled day spas. As a result, her sleep was usually deep and not easily interrupted—not exactly helpful when you might need to leave in a moment’s notice.
“If you tell me we’re in danger and leaving again, I’ll just die and get this over with. I’m done.”
“No, it’s over. They got him.”
“Alek? What about his men?” She sat up, pulling the earplugs from her ears. “That’s better. What about Erika? Is she still safe?”
Jill nodded. “Yep, they went after her at one of the cottages, and we were waiting.”
“Good. So, she can go home?”
“Yep. You both can.”
Helen nodded as her mind raced in a dozen directions. Alek’s men failed, but at least he was out of the picture. She’d have him removed in a transport “accident.” Meanwhile, she needed to be sure Erika didn’t know about her connection to any of it. “Erika still doesn’t know this has anything to do with me, right? I can’t imagine anyone is left who could hurt her if she does, but it still makes me nervous.”
“That’s why you hired us. We kept her completely in the dark. She’s still convinced we have the wrong Erika Polowski.”
“Good. Maybe that’ll protect her—as long as there aren’t any rogue men left from Alek’s syndicate.”
“We’ve got them. It was such a big sweep that there’s no way anyone would risk it.”
With heart pounding, Helen forced her tone to sound frightened rather than frustrated. “Well, he’s got a few who are vindictive enough to be ticked at losing out on their money. It’s all about money in that racket. That’s why I tried to get in—to take them down. Almost got me killed.” Her shudder was perfect. Maybe it was time to consider a career in acting instead of human trafficking—nah. The money was in people, and she wasn’t about to let go of the money for any reason.
“You can’t go home, though, Helen. If you come home any more than a few weeks early, it might make her suspicious and if she connects you...”
“Yeah, well, I have business in Brisbane anyway. I’ve been gone long enough to raise eyebrows, and that’s dangerous in my line of work.”
Anthony popped his head in the doorway. “Okay, I’ve got our things—She isn’t even dressed yet? Let’s go people! I have a birthday to make up for as it is. The more days that pass, the worse of a father I am!”
Helen waved him off saying, “I’ll have tickets to Disney World waiting for you when you get home. Just give me time to get dressed and make the call.”
As Jill and Anthony left the room, Helen overheard Anthony whisper, “How is it that someone with her kind of money lives in a suburban neighborhood with three bedrooms, two baths, and shoddy landscaping?”
How indeed, you idiot, she thought to herself. How indeed.
MARK SCANNED THE REPORTS before him. The Hard as Nails franchise had locks on every door—shut down in the wake of the arrests. The FBI had Anastas in custody, and the rest of his merry band of assassins occupied a cell or morgue slab—without a single bullet and only one tranq fired. Well, two, if you included Erika’s self-inflicted one. He snickered at the memory of Keith’s call.
Best of all, however, they’d managed to intercept a shipment of girls—some as young as eleven—before they left Columbus for who knew where or what fate. The thought churned Mark’s stomach. Yes, someone would step up and take over the management of Alek’s so-called business, but it was a step in the right direction—one they hadn’t hoped to make. It felt good.
His team would convene in just hours. Keith had already landed in Rockland, Karen was due any minute, and Jill and Anthony were on their way. He had new assignments for everyone, but first, bonuses. Helen Franklin had been generous—very generous. With Erika and Helen back in their own homes and resuming their lives, he could close the books on that case—just as soon as the files were complete after debriefing. It was a good day in the history of the Agency.
They’d chosen the name of their business carefully. It needed to be simple, memorable, and ambiguous enough to make people think of a government agency rather than a private business. Located in any other city, the name would have meant nothing, but considering that Mark’s cousin ran the most prestigious wedding coordination agency in the greater Rockland area, with the simple name, “the Agency,” it had been just one of those coincidences he couldn’t resist.
A knock sent his fingers flying across the computer keyboard as he called for whomever it was to enter. “Hey, Keith. I’m just about ready to print out your report for you. How is Erika?”
“Good. I took a cab to the coffee shop before coming here. You’d never know she took a month-long leave of absence.”
“Excellent.
And how is Claire doing? She like the bike?”
“Yep. Loves it. She’s asked me to come over for dinner tonight. Says she has something to talk to me about.”
“Well, good. I’m going to go check on a few things. You just read over that, make any changes, and I’ll be back in a bit.”
Mark left the room and strolled down the hall, past the Internet division of Mayflower Trust and into the elevator. Once outside, he flipped open his phone and dialed the number for his latest client. “Are you sure it must be now? Everything looks calm for at least a week.”
The voice on the other end sounded quite decided. They’d be ready to be whisked away to safety at eight o’clock. With a family of five to protect, Mark needed his top three people on the case, and that left him shorthanded—again. They’d received three notices of threats for assessment, two requests for aid, and somewhere between four and nine emails, most of which would turn out to be bogus, but they must be investigated. As it was, Helen’s file might be closed within hours, but dozens of spiral cases had been flooding their office from the Anastas Syndicate. It’d be months, possibly years before they’d be completely free of the revolting business.
He needed to hire more people. Always a problem. The best candidates were ex-law enforcement, ex-military, or the saner members of militia groups. Training someone from scratch meant time, money, and personnel that he couldn’t afford. His mind went to Claire Auger. Young, healthy, intelligent, and there was enough evidence to assume she’d been recruited by Anastas—probably under the guise of “helping” her cousin—to prove she had the brains to keep from getting caught, Claire had potential. Keith could train her. That’d be good—on the job even—it might work.
He retraced his steps, waved at the receptionist of Mayflower Trust as he reentered the building, took the elevator to the fourth floor, and strolled back into his office. Keith started to speak, but something about Mark stopped him. Good. That’s exactly what he needed—uncertainty. With it, he could control just about anything.
