Secrets Boxset: A Riveting Kidnapping Mystery Collection

by J. S. Donovan

  Bam!

  A bullet whizzed by. She couldn’t tell if it was directed at her. The barrage of light drowned out the barrel flash. Anna couched behind her cover. That’s how he got them, Anna thought. Halfway through the length of the room, all the boxes had been cleared and left an opening where the light could shine its brightest. Most of Alpha squad scattered in this no man’s land, probably the ones Cain caught by surprise when they got close.

  She looked around, spotting a few familiar faces deeper in the room. The surviving members of Bravo squad were hunching behind similar cover, waiting for a chance to shoot Cain. One man nodded at Anna when he saw her and made a daring sprint to an adjacent box. A hail of bullets spit from behind the floodlights and dropped the man. He writhed on the ground like a wounded horse until death took him a moment later. Anna’s jaw dropped.

  “Another person moves and I kill the girl,” a disoriented voice said through a megaphone. “I don’t make threats. I make promises.”

  9

  Below

  Anna trembled. Elbows bent, her hands held her gun a few inches from her chest. The precision high beams sliced through the room and accentuated drafting dust particles in the stale air and the crimson puddles growing beneath the Alpha team. Was Agent Rennard among them? Anna dared not look.

  Her widened eyes shifted between Bravo team’s leftovers. There were at least four of the squad members remaining, and all were scattered throughout the windowless room. By their pattern, they must’ve moved in tactically to flank Cain but found themselves pinned behind the same type of sketchy cover behind which Anna hid. Shotguns and ARs were held snug in their gloved hands while flash and stun grenades were attached to their belts. The throw would be far and hazardous and probably land short of the office. After all, the room was directly above where the trains were stored and boasted a wide girth.

  One of the SWAT team members looked at her. Anna remembered sitting by him in the van. He had a square face with a flat nose and a pad of brown hair on his otherwise shaved head. Moving his hands with purpose, he gestured to Anna, telling her to get out. To retreat. As much as she’d like to, Cain’s threat--no, promise--pinned her behind a wooden crate on the far right of the room. Her gut told her she shouldn’t stay here, but she couldn’t bring her body to move.

  The square-faced SWAT member was displeased when Anna signaled him back.

  “I want every one of you to put down your weapons and step out with your hands in the air.” The megaphone echoed through the corridor-like room in a mockery of the police’s order.

  Anna held her breath. Stress sent her blood rising. She thought of her sweet blonde niece. A shy girl didn’t deserve such a fate. She also thought of Keisha, the prodigy of Van Buren who would never play again. Cain may have one or both of them behind those lights. Any stray bullet could hit the wrong target, and everything Anna sacrificed would be rendered useless. He could be lying. He may not have the girls with him. She eyed the closest cover, a sealed crate toppled on its side. She hunched low and gestured to a SWAT member. He acknowledged the plan and knelt into firing position.

  “Send one of the girls out and we will comply!” the square face man shouted to the floodlights.

  Gunfire blasted from the distant office and the SWAT member ducked. Bullets blew fat holes through the crate next to him. Wood chips and sawdust burst into the light. Anna dashed to her new crate and landed harshly. She squeezed the elbow she knocked against the floor and peeked her head over the box. Straining her eyes, Anna spotted the outline of a figure pacing beyond the wall of illumination. She looked for the girls but didn’t see any other movement.

  “Psst.”

  Anna ducked down and turned around, seeking the voice. Behind a pillar four yards away, a welcoming face peered at Anna and waved his hand. A sheen of sweat glistened on his face and dust powdered his vest and trousers. Anna looked back around the floodlights and then to Agent Rennard.

  “How did you get over there?” she whispered, feeling some stress leave her body.

  “Carefully,” he replied as quiet as the wind and mimicked an Army crawl.

  “Does he have the girls with him? Did you see them with your own eyes?”

  Rennard frowned. “He said, but I haven’t seen any.”

  Anna rubbed her sore elbow. “Is there a back way in?”

  Rennard shook his head. “The room is a death box.”

  The news punched her in the gut. She looked at the entrance only a few yards away but fought her instincts. “We need to kill the lights.”

  “It’s risky...” Rennard whispered back. “I’ll call backup. Have them send their own to drown it out.”

  Gunfire roared throughout the room.

  “Drop. Your. Weapons!” demanded the voice behind the megaphone. “Or I kill them both!”

  “Please!” A child's soft voice resonated from the office.

  Anna felt a bead of sweat rolling down her face. Her legs cramped from crouching and the vest constricted her torso. She thought of the girls Cain had, the ones he’d hurt and ones he would hurt.

  “We can’t wait,” Anna told Rennard.

  Dread swept over the dashing agent’s face. He nodded in agreement.

  Anna signaled the other SWAT team in the room. “Aim for the lights,” she mouthed.

  They gestured the message between each other and slid their fingers on their triggers. A few drew out flash grenades.

  Anna’s lip quivered. It was the product of fear, anger, and an explosive burst of adrenaline.

  They counted down from three.

  Anna’s heart pounded so violently that she thought it would pop when they reached-- “One!”

  Instinct. She twisted around the crate, gun raised in unison with the rest, and shouted. “Lily! Keisha! Get down!” It’s up to you now.

  A deafening blast of gunfire tore through the room. Volleys of bullets raged against the floodlights, shattering the glass bulbs and enveloping the room in blackness, like someone had snuffed out a candle.

  Stillness.

  Flashlights clicked on beside Anna. Half of her body leaned out from behind her crate as she scanned the far office with her gun. She stared at the line of broken floodlights. They had pipey necks and damaged square bulbs. Metal barn doors had channeled their light beams. She traded looks with the rest of Bravo team and Rennard before rising out of cover. Her legs became weak and her head weightless. The squad walked through the room, stepping around and over warm bodies.

  They slowed before the broken windows of the wide office and aimed their guns inside. There were a few desks and cabinets. An empty chair lay flat on the floor. Anna’s shoulders slumped and she allowed herself to lean on the wall. A gateless vent in the wall called to her with its big mouth of blackness.

  Rennard touched Anna’s arm, causing her to flinch, but didn’t say anything.

  “He’s playing us,” Anna caught her breath.

  “Be that as it may, he’s still in this building and the girls are with him.”

  “Room clear,” the man with the square face said. “No sign of suspects or hostages.”

  Anna forced herself to stand properly and reloaded her pistol. “Buddy system?” she suggested.

  “You need to leave,” the SWAT member interrupted with a heavy frown. He bounced his mossy green eyes between Anna and Rennard. “Both of you. Frankfurt and Cole, escort them outside.”

  Two of the other SWAT members nodded at them.

  “We can help,” Rennard protested.

  Anna locked eyes with him. “That’s my niece in there.”

  “This isn’t negotiable.” the man turned his back on them and joined the other three survivors by the vent. “I will have no more deaths on my conscience.”

  One in front and one behind, Frankfurt and Cole herded Anna and Rennard out of the office, past the corpses and through the box cover and into the hall.

  “We have nearly a dozen officers down,” Rennard grumbled. “They need us.”

>   They crossed into the windowed hallway. Outside, police cruisers barricaded the train yard while two helicopters swirled under the moon and stars. It seemed like the whole force was fanned out across the yard. You’re a private investigator, remember. She stared at her feet moving across the stained and scuffed grey floor. Musty air clawed inside of her throat. Guilt ate at her chest. They bounced down the stairs.

  “There’s nowhere for him to run,” Rennard said in an attempt to comfort her and himself.

  Storage closets lined the hall. Anna kept her eyes peeled, unsure if the vent could’ve dropped into one of the five rooms.

  The voice was high-pitched and fear-ridden. “Anna!”

  Lily! Anna twisted back to the swinging doors that led into the main hub of the first floor.

  “Get them out,” Cole told Frankfurt and approached the double doors. His steps were sure and his rifle was ready.

  The SWAT member behind Anna pointed to the exit door down the hall. “Go. Now.”

  Rennard, a heavy frown on his comely face, turned to the exit before noticing that Anna hadn't moved. Her mouth was parted and his gaze was locked on the distant SWAT member. His gloved hand pushed against one of the swinging doors while his other arm kept the rifle steady. Silent, he slipped through the threshold, allowing the door to swing shut behind him.

  Frankfurt yanked on Anna’s biceps, twisting her back. He growled and loomed above her. He opened his mouth to speak when the double doors kicked open and smacked the outer walls. The black shape of a man stood in the opening only long enough to make out his black ski-mask, black fleece, black pants, and black rifle in his hand. Behind him was a hog-tied little girl with golden locks squirming on the dusty floor.

  Anna didn’t have time to think when the shooting started. She could only drop herself to the hard concrete and cover her head. Frankfurt thrashed with every hit he took. His shotgun discharged into the ceiling and he tumbled backward to the floor. Crawling on her belly, Anna slipped into a nearby room.

  Rennard glanced up from behind the man’s body and aimed his pistol at the swinging doors. Face sprinkled with blood, he shouted to Anna, “You hit?”

  Anna pushed herself up to her hands and knees and examined her dusty vest. “No. You?”

  “No.” Grimacing, Rennard slowly rose, keeping his gun aimed at the double doors. “He slipped away.”

  “I saw Lily,” Anna said, almost not believing her own words.

  “Me too,” Rennard breathed rapidly.

  The doors returned to their stationary position. Anna stood fully. She started toward them with her finger on the trigger and moving from closet-to-closet. Rennard groaned behind her. His breathing got louder. Anna paused, unwilling to look back. “You’re hit, aren’t you?”

  “... yeah,” the agent admitted.

  Biting her lip, Anna twisted herself around. The butt of the bullet twinkled in the gut of Rennard’s vest.

  “It’s only a bruise.” Rennard smiled weakly. He struggled to stand up straight and his eyes watered. “Ah, who am I kidding? It hurts like hell.”

  Anna stared at him for a moment. “I’ll keep him distracted. Get help. Everyone.”

  With determination, Rennard nodded.

  Not another wasted second, she pressed through the double doors. The room was long and tall with columns running down the side of both walls. Dust danced in the air as a chopper’s spotlight flickered through the small upper windows. Anna maneuvered between columns. Cole’s body was left like waste on the ground, a cut on his neck and his gun missing.

  Pop-pop-pop!

  Anna pulled back her head as bullets bit chunks off the concrete column. A gagged cry sounded from a corner of the room. Anna twisted out and took a few shots, purposely missing. Cain fired back with a vengeance, forcing Anna to move from cover. She spotted him briefly, hoisting Lily on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His blonde hair flowed down his black jumpsuit like a waterfall of gold. She screamed beneath her gag. Anna dashed to the next column. Cain used more rounds of his automatic rifle.

  “Tell me what you want, Cain,” Anna shouted. “Help me understand.”

  Another burst of fire.

  “I can help you!” Anna bargained and fired a round in his direction. “We can negotiate!”

  Pop-pop-pop!

  Anna ran to the next column. There were only a few left. “Reinforcements will be swarming this room within minutes! You don’t have any more plays left!”

  Cain’s chuckle bounced through the rafters of the room. Anna leaned out from cover and pointed her pistol. The room seemed still and quiet. She scanned the opposing columns. Lily’s gagged crying quieted. Anna followed every shadow but saw no movement. “Cain?”

  She traveled around the opposite column, gun raised. No one. She sped through the room, feeling all hope leave. She looked up and down but found only shell casings and a few strands of golden hair. None of the doors had opened. The windows were too high. Anna cursed, noticing the subtle square outline on the concrete door.

  Her phone rang. She quickly answered and held the cell against her shoulder and ear. “What?”

  “You need to get out of there, Anna,” Rennard said on the other end. “They found a bomb.”

  The exits doors were only a few seconds away. She could run. Be safe. The trap door beckoned to her. “How much time?”

  “Not enough!”

  Anna inhaled sharply and rubbed her hand over the trapdoor until she felt the latch. “There’s an underground tunnel. I’m going to see where it leads.”

  “Anna.”

  Seven ladder rungs led to a dimly lit corridor. “I’ll see you on the other side, Rennard.”

  “Anna, wait--”

  End.

  She turned around and traveled down, feeling the cold touch of polished metal as she shut the hatch. Her feet hit solid ground again. Amber tinted lights were bolted down the long corridor like torch sconces. The soft, steady dripping of water echoed from far away. Anna moved with one foot in front of the other, looking over the smooth construction. It didn’t match the rest of the train yard. About forty feet in, the ceiling rumbled. Cement chunks tumbled through the trapdoor behind her, and the lights flickered and died, leaving Anna in complete blackness.

  Anna felt for her belt and withdrew her torch. Holding the flashlight under her pistol, she continued deeper into the corridor and toward the constant dripping. Her breathing kept her company. The tunnel grew colder, but Anna was drenched in perspiration. She wanted to strip away the vest but knew that would be foolishness. The end came into view and she hated what she saw. A “T” in the corridor. A choice at the end of the straight path.

  She looked to the right and at the void-like path beyond. The left path told the same tale. I choose the wrong one, Cain gets away. A pit formed in her stomach. Her intuition turned suddenly silent and she had to make a simple choice. Left or Right. Fifty/Fifty. Another game.

  Shaking her head, she stepped to the right and stopped. She turned back and shone the flashlight down the left. She cursed under her breath and twisted back to the right. A glimmer. A strand of blonde hair a few feet closer to the left corridor. There was no wind in this tunnel. It fell where it fell unless Cain used it to throw her off the trail, but he would only do that if he expected her to survive the blast. In that case… she stopped her dragging train of thought and sprinted down the left corridor.

  The phone she borrowed from her father had no bars this far underground. Once she found first light, she’d call Rennard. Tell him where she was and get a search chopper. The corridor went on, but it finally came to an end at a black door with the phrase “His gifts were not pleasing” scratched into the metal.

  The octagonal room had a series of lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling. Their insulated cabling spread chaotically above Anna like a brood of vipers and vanished into little holes in the corner of the upper wall. Lily coiled in on herself like a fetus at the center of the black room. Her long blonde hair fanned out acr
oss the glossy black floor. She wore yellow pajamas like the ones Keisha had in the scrapbook, and her pale, milky skin contrasted with the walls around her.

  “Lily?” Anna scarcely whispered. She shuffled into the room. The flush floor seemed to wobble as her legs carried her to her unmoving nine-year-old niece.

  The same suffocating feeling from Jenkins's house grabbed Anna’s aching heart. A certain sinister sensation lingered in the atmosphere. She traced the light around the room and ended at the girl. Beyond her was another black door with a series of symmetrical discs running in lines down its face.

  Anna went to one knee. She kept her gun aimed at the door ahead and used her other hand to touch Lily’s shoulder. A warm sensation tingled in Anna’s fingertips. She rolled the girl to her back. Her eyes were closed. She had a soft, angular face like her mother and little sloped nose. Anna hovered her palm over her mouth. A breath. Suddenly, there was hope.

  “Lily, get up,” Anna whispered.

  Anna shook the little girl, but she didn’t wake. A distinct, sharp smell wrinkled Anna’s nose. Chloroform, Anna knew at once. It hung on Lily’s lips.

  Behind. Footsteps, ever so light. Anna twisted back. The top of her pistol-wielding hand smacked between Cain’s chest and right arm. He closed it in his armpit like a bear trap. The extendable baton in his left hand swung at Anna’s head. She ducked, narrowly avoiding the ball-tipped rod.

  “You should’ve used your gun, arrogant--!” Anna slammed her shoulder into the man’s chest.

  The glossy floor fell towards them and Cain’s back slapped against it. His baton rolled from his grasp, and Anna lost her flashlight. She fought to pull her right arm out from his grip to no avail. She discharged the pistol into the ground. The ski-mask wearing man flinched but only held on tighter. His left hand slapped against Anna’s ear while her left hand pressed down against his face. He yanked on her short hair, pulling her head to the side. She let out a cry and squashed his nose with the palm of her hand while her knee pounded his groin. He grunted through his teeth and wrapped his legs around her hips. In a swift motion, he rolled himself on top of her, switching their positions.