Traitor Games

by Sidney Bristol

  She’d had limited time to take in her surroundings yesterday morning when they arrived. Her impression was that this was a small island, with the middle of it being taken up by an airstrip. There were a few buildings, most similar in size to where she was being held, and that was it.

  “My request to speak with my children has been denied,” Demetrius said.

  Lillian prayed once more that Kevin and Jesse were successful in their rescue.

  “They are going to kill me soon. If you don’t have anything of value to tell them, they may kill you, too. We both need to escape,” he said.

  “Did you use the comm?”

  “No time.” He guided her along the path toward a bungalow sitting on the other side of the collection of buildings.

  “If we don’t let the others know where we are, they can’t rescue us.”

  “There’s no signal out here, and everyone is watching. Shh.”

  “Okay, but it has a tracking device in it. I don’t know if it will work this far away, but you have to try.”

  They fell into silence and covered the last ten feet to the bungalow. Demetrius opened the door for her and she stepped into what might be considered a pleasant island getaway, if there weren’t guards and prisoners around.

  Hector sat behind a spindle-legged desk, his jacket gone, shirtsleeves rolled up, and a fan blowing fresh air at him. He swiped a rag across his brow and stared at them for a moment.

  “Put her there.” He gestured at the chair in front of his desk.

  Demetrius pushed her to a wooden chair in front of the desk and shoved her into it.

  Lillian sat down hard enough her tailbone ached.

  “I hope you’ve enjoyed your vacation, because it’s about to get a whole lot more uncomfortable if you don’t cooperate.” Hector picked up a pen and clicked it several times. His gaze flicked to Demetrius. “Leave.”

  Demetrius didn’t say anything. The floorboards squeaked under his footsteps and the door thunked into place, leaving her alone with Hector.

  Hector stared at her, his gaze detached, as if she weren’t human.

  “Ms. Matthews, you’re an intelligent woman and you’ve been around D.C. long enough to understand the score. I’m going to do you the favor of asking nicely this one time.” He folded his hands on the desk and leaned forward. “Where are the others?”

  “I don’t know. It’s the truth.” She held up her hands. This truth she could give him. “That was the plan. No set meet-up.”

  “Where’s Noah?”

  She wished she had an answer for that one. “I-I don’t know.”

  “I want a list of everyone helping you, Carol, Mitch, and Irene.” Hector spun the pad of paper around.

  She stared at the lines.

  She could fill a page with names. Phone numbers. Details. It was all in her head. That had been her purpose. But Hector didn’t know that. He couldn’t. To him she was an accessory. It he knew what was in her head he’d have sent more than Noah after her.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything,” she said.

  Hector bit his bottom lip and nodded.

  “Okay. That’s how you want to play this?” He pulled a laptop toward him and tapped the keys.

  Lillian pressed her fingers against her thighs.

  What the hell was he doing?

  “You and your sister, you’re pretty close, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Leave Camie out of this,” Lillian said without thinking.

  “You’re the one who involved her. The day you helped Carol Sark is the day you involved your sister.” Hector turned the laptop screen toward her.

  That was Camilla’s living room. Judging from the angle, the camera was somewhere in the built-in bookshelves that lined the outer wall. Lillian could see the coffee table, sofa, and part of the kitchen island. The whole place was a study in white and beige. Camilla liked a clean slate, something that wasn’t too busy. She said it helped her think.

  It was Sunday afternoon.

  Camilla reserved Sundays for spending at home, though much of it was done working.

  Sure enough, Camilla walked around the island, a bowl of something in hand, and sat on the sofa.

  “All we did was put a camera in. You know how easy it would be to get someone in there? They could make it look like a suicide. Camilla’s been pretty stressed lately. Seen a couple head doctors. I’m sure they’d have interesting things to say about her mental state.”

  Lillian covered her mouth with her hands. She’d had to talk her sister off the edge a few times. Camilla wasn’t all there. Not after the blast. She’d never had anything taken away from her until now. And Lillian was to blame.

  Camilla was walking a fine line right now. She was so angry and obsessed. Losing the office was personal for her. And Lillian was sitting across from one of the people responsible for it. She’d known all along, but telling Camilla meant putting her at risk. And Lillian couldn’t do that.

  Think. Don’t be afraid. That doesn’t help anything. Think!

  What did this screen tell her?

  Hector must have had the cameras put in recently. Jesse would have found them already if that weren’t the case. With the rescue of the girls he was undoubtedly distracted, trying to keep both sides safe. There was the chance he’d missed something. Could Lillian bet on the fact that he wouldn’t? Or did she accept that they were all human?

  “You tell me everything I want to know and Camie gets to keep eating her yogurt and fruit in peace,” Hector said.

  It was just the other week Camilla had remarked on the price of strawberries. She loved Greek yogurt and strawberries. Mom used to make it for them as a snack. She’d set them up with bowls of it and cartoons.

  Lillian couldn’t give the others up. But she couldn’t kill her sister either.

  What did she say? How did she make this choice? How could she?

  Camilla got up off the sofa, her head tilted as though she were listening for the door.

  “Don’t!” Lillian yelped. She needed more time.

  Camilla walked out of the frame.

  Hector pivoted the laptop a bit and peered at it.

  “Please—don’t,” Lillian begged.

  She could think of something to tell Hector. The house in London. That was an option. It might burn the location for Mr. Grant, but she was willing to make that sacrifice.

  A man in a black coat and a ski mask over his face walked into the living room, staring directly at the camera.

  Lillian stared into those eyes.

  Wait… They didn’t inspire fear in her. They gave her hope.

  She knew that jacket. It hung next to hers every day at work. Her mouth went dry.

  The man took a few steps closer to the camera and held up a sign.

  We will find you.

  Lillian stared at the man.

  “What the hell?” Hector yanked the laptop around.

  Thank God for Jesse.

  He was smart. He’d played these games before. He knew Camilla would be a target. Now that Lillian was captured, Camilla was leverage. The others must have told Jesse Lillian had been kidnapped. Of course Jesse would be careful. He was like her brother. And he knew she was missing.

  A laugh bubbled up her throat. She slumped in her chair and grinned, relief washing through her.

  Her family would be okay. They might have questions, they might be angry with her, but Jesse would keep them safe.

  Hector had nothing on Lillian.

  …

  Saturday. Lighthouse Cay, Caribbean.

  Demetrius could feel the invisible noose tightening.

  Hector and his puppet master no longer needed him.

  If Demetrius believed the woman, his babies were safe.

  His days on this planet were numbered if he didn’t get off this island soon. Out here they could dump his body in the ocean and no one would ever find him. His children would grow up without a family. He knew what it was like to feel abandoned, to be left without
options or a home. All he’d wanted from the day his first daughter was born was to give them a life better than his. He couldn’t do that if he was dead.

  The afternoon sun beat down on them. Almost everyone had retreated to the shade while Hector sweated in the main house.

  Lillian had told him about the camera and the eroded leverage when he’d taken her back to her cell. While it was funny as hell for Hector to lose the upper hand, it accomplished nothing except put more pressure on Hector from whoever was yanking their strings.

  Hector had looked terrified when Demetrius had been summoned to collect Lillian. Fear made men do stupid things in a desperate attempt to hold it together.

  Demetrius walked toward the ocean.

  It’d taken them twelve hours to get here. Judging by the position of the sun and stars, he guessed they were somewhere in the Caribbean. He’d never been to the islands and had no idea how far they were from other land masses, what the chances were they’d be able to flag a passing boat, or call for help. Its remote nature was likely an attribute.

  In another world, he might have chosen to raise his girls in a place like this. Untouched by humanity and evil. A place where he could stay faithful to his promise to be a different, better man. But instead they got him. Like this. If he’d had another option, if their mother hadn’t snapped, maybe things would have been better for them.

  He pulled the ear comm from his pocket. The thing was tiny. Small enough he could balance it on his pinky. With any luck, this tiny device would save them.

  Demetrius pressed the back of it, and the light flashed. He slid it into his ear, but all he heard was static.

  “If anyone is out there, we don’t have much time,” he said.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Saturday. Safe House, Madrid, Spain.

  Noah stared at the laptop screen. It was his turn to monitor the comm feed in case Lillian’s unit came back online. He wasn’t holding out much hope. With so much time between the last signal broadcast and now, the battery was likely dead.

  What if he never saw Lillian again?

  It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination to expect that once she was kidnapped they’d torture what they wanted out of her then kill her.

  He’d been prepared to give her up. He wasn’t ready to lose her. He wanted Hector and whoever else was behind this. He’d find them, and he wouldn’t give them the chance to tap dance out of justice by going to trial. He’d kill them. Quick and simple.

  “I think we should finish the job. Go to Canada, eliminate the office there,” Brandon said. He’d been arguing his point for the better part of the morning.

  “It’s too risky.” Irene had been right. The facility would be well guarded. They lacked the element of surprise. And for all they knew, SICA had packed up and moved on.

  Brandon threw his hands up. “We can’t sit here and do nothing.”

  The man was echoing Noah’s thoughts, but without some intel to guide them, they were in a holding pattern until they saw how the chips fell. Before long there’d be buzz on the dark net.

  The exposé and subsequent discovery articles following Jonas’s story were good, and they no doubt put the pressure on an otherwise secret organization, but they weren’t going to end this. It would take time, and failure on SICA’s part, for their business to dry up. The hack had ensured they lacked the necessary intelligence structure and money for that. This was a long job made even longer without Lillian there.

  God, he missed her already. Her quick mind, the casual caress of her hand, her smile. He’d been hooked on her the moment they met, and now that he’d lost her he finally knew how much she meant to him.

  Lillian was everything.

  Noah would see this job through, because that was what she wanted, but after that he’d track down every asshole involved in her kidnapping and destroy them.

  The dim laptop screen flashed to full brightness. He sat up and frowned as the image blipped, jumping to the South China Sea then to the coast of Georgia before sliding down to the ocean.

  “What the fuck?” Noah dragged his finger over the touchpad, zooming in on ocean.

  “What?” Irene circled the table. “What is it?”

  A little red dot, kind of like a virtual pin, appeared in all that blue.

  “Is that…?” Noah’s throat closed up. He couldn’t bring himself to say her name.

  “Oh…my God.” Irene turned the laptop toward her and began typing.

  “We can’t boost the signal and hear her, can we?” he asked.

  “No, the device was too far away to transmit sound. This location is ten minutes old, but…” She zoomed in, and in, and in on a tiny strip of land that was near invisible to the satellite.

  “She’s there,” Noah whispered.

  “Everyone? Hey—listen up.” Irene addressed the others. They were barely awake and caffeinated after a mostly sleepless night. “I need everyone to reach out, find out what you can about these coordinates. Pack up, because we’re going to leave as soon as we know enough to move on.”

  “Where is that? What is that?” Noah turned the screen back toward him.

  His heart was out there, and now he could feel it beating once more. For a moment Noah sat there, stunned, hopeful, and still afraid of the worst. Just because she’d powered her comm back on didn’t mean she’d last long enough for Noah to get to her. But he had to try.

  He jabbed at the keyboard. First he went the public route, plugging in the coordinates to Google. Except the map results showed nothing but clear, blue ocean.

  Someone didn’t want this island on the radar.

  “I need old maps. Something ten, twenty years old,” he said mostly to himself.

  “Just be ready to go within the hour,” Irene said.

  Noah switched screens. He needed his own network and intel. Every good spy had their own resources and tools. He was no different. He went for his digital library, including maps from different decades. Sometimes the key to finding what he needed lay in identifying what others covered up. Altering world maps was an old trick.

  He had to go back to a twenty-year-old map of the Caribbean, but he located a strip of land about four miles long called Lighthouse Cay right where Lillian’s signal last transmitted.

  “What’d you find?” Irene asked.

  “Where we’re going.” He jabbed a finger at the screen. “We’ve got her.”

  …

  Sunday. Lighthouse Cay, Caribbean.

  Demetrius was fucked.

  He’d stood at the edge of the ocean as long as he’d been able to without drawing attention to himself. No ship had passed within sight. He had no weapon other than his hands. Hector had just about everything he wanted. There was no way off the island other than the plane, and Hector had that, too.

  The clock was up unless by some miracle Lillian’s people showed up. He had to assume the comm hadn’t been able to transmit a signal beyond the shore. In his experience it didn’t pay to bet on hope.

  They were alone.

  The door to Hector’s bungalow opened and three of the other guards walked out toward the lone vehicle on the island, a four-wheel drive Jeep.

  The Jeep blazed across the sandy terrain straight for the bunkhouse.

  Demetrius remained where he was.

  Trying to evade them was like trying to run faster than the cheetah. It wasn’t going to happen.

  The Jeep came to a stop and the guy in the passenger seat got out to stand in front of Demetrius.

  “Boss wants us to scout the other side of the island,” he said.

  Scouting mission his ass.

  They were going to drive him to the other end of the island and put a bullet between his eyes. Or try to. They’d be smarter to do it here, before he figured out a way out of this, but Demetrius wasn’t going to do them the favor of telling them that.

  He sighed and got to his feet, shaking sand out of his clothes. “All right. Let’s go.”

  The passenger climbed back
into his seat and Demetrius vaulted into the back of the vehicle.

  Hector had people problems. Some of the guys working for him were uneasy. If these three took him down with the others watching it wasn’t going to help their loyalty problems. Which was more than likely why they wanted this done quietly and out of sight.

  The man sitting next to Demetrius thrust a gun against his ribs.

  Ah, at least someone was smart.

  “Put these on.” The man thrust a set of plastic cuffs at Demetrius.

  He slid his wrists through and bit the end, tightening them down. But not too much.

  The driver accelerated and the Jeep bounced over the sand.

  There was no path through the island so they stuck to the beach, going along at a steady clip.

  Demetrius used the time to study the lay of the land. They were venturing farther than he’d made it on foot during the course of their time on the island. Half of the land was given over to the airstrip and buildings, but from what he could see the other two miles were uncultivated and wild.

  The land curved back on itself until all he could see was trees on his right and the ocean on his left.

  Wherever they were heading, the driver had a plan.

  If Demetrius was going to get away, he’d have to do it before they got to their destination.

  Demetrius nodded at the water. “Is that a boat or something?”

  The man next to him peered in the direction Demetrius had indicated. Demetrius lunged at him, grasping the weapon with both hands.

  The driver swerved. “What the hell?”

  Demetrius pushed the weapon away from him until it was pointed at the front of the vehicle and shoved his shoulder into the smaller man, squeezing the handle, forcing the other man to fire the weapon.

  Blood splattered the windshield and the front passenger screamed.

  Demetrius threw himself over the side of the vehicle, but kept his death grip on the other man. They tumbled to the sand, Demetrius landing on top of the smaller man. He wrestled the gun from his hands and fired.

  The Jeep slid to a stop in a plume of sand.

  Demetrius grabbed the knife at the man’s hip and ripped it from his belt.