“Put a collar on him.” Liman shoved to his feet. “Secure him in the other room.”
God damn it. This was exactly what they didn’t need.
15.
Sunday. Unknown, Chicago, Illinois.
Melody groaned. She hurt worse than the second day of spring booty boot camp. That was always the worst day of her year, no matter how physically fit she’d kept herself.
What the hell had happened?
Her head was groggy with that wrapped in cotton feeling and her mouth was impossibly dry. She rolled her tongue around and squeezed her eyes shut.
Who’d left the lights on?
Grant?
Just thinking his name brought back memories.
Ibiza.
The chair at the Hard Rock Hotel.
Vaughn nearly bleeding to death.
Brenden more furious than she’d ever seen him before.
And Grant again, last night. Face wash and pajamas.
They’d gone to manage the move of Ethan from one facility to another, and then...
She stopped breathing and started listening.
The air conditioner chugged, drowning out softer sounds, but she could still hear voices. None of their words made sense.
Something heavy and cold weighted her wrist down. She resisted the urge to curl her fingers and touch it. There was no need. She knew she was handcuffed to something.
A sigh disrupted the quiet and if possible she went even stiller.
Melody wasn’t alone.
There wasn’t anything for her to do. Her lungs were burning with the need for oxygen. She had no way to call for help. Her best bet was the subdermal tracking device the entire Lepta Team had consented to have implanted.
Her people—Grant—would find her. She just had to survive.
A door clanged open.
Melody’s eyes snapped open despite her attempt to play possum.
The man they’d seen first in Lebanon then where Brenden and Riley were being held walked in. He still wore a suit that screamed, I don’t get my hands dirty. He was followed by another man. They both stopped, looking across the room from her.
At Ethan.
He sat on the concrete floor, his arm above his head fastened to the wall by a pair of handcuffs. He glared up at the man spitting words at him in what sounded like Arabic.
Weren’t these people saving Ethan? Wasn’t he trying to get back to them?
Melody remained where she was, watching the suit wearing man rant.
Ethan, on the other hand, seemed bored. From the relaxed posture to his gaze roaming off the other man, he just didn’t seem to care.
The suit hauled back and kicked Ethan’s leg. He reacted, lunging toward the sit, but stopped short by his restraint. The suit pulled out some sort of baton and smacked Ethan with it, the crackle of electricity charging the air.
If Ethan wasn’t loyal to these people, who was he loyal to?
The suit wheeled around.
Melody closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe shallow as the two men left the room.
The door shut.
Ethan spoke, his voice still full of venom as he said words she had no hope of understanding.
She opened her eyes and found him looking straight at her.
SUNDAY. ABDUCTION SITE, Chicago, Illinois.
Thirty minutes.
That was how long it’d been since Grant had last checked in with Melody. Since he’d last heard her voice.
If they were still on schedule, this would almost be over.
Except the nightmare had just begun.
A dark SUV slowed to a stop a few yards from the lead vehicle Grant had been in.
He knew that truck. He’d seen Admiral Crawford and Marco get in it earlier.
Garth stalked over to the vehicle, opened the back seat and hauled himself into the SUV. Marco was at the wheel, Admiral Crawford sitting shotgun.
Thirty minutes and no one had news for him.
“What the hell happened?” Grant demanded. “Where is Melody?”
According to the others, paramedics and cops were still on their way. While most of the injuries were scratches and whiplash, that didn’t mean there wasn’t more damage to the team. Not to mention the two bodies from the van and their missing people.
Marco turned to glance back from the driver’s seat. “We don’t know.”
“What?” Grant snapped. “Her tracker...?”
“We aren’t getting a signal,” Marco said.
“Here.” Admiral Crawford handed a tablet back to Grant. “Drone footage.”
Grant took the device and watched the blue semi-truck plow down the hill and glance off the first SUV. The ambulance had swerved wildly to avoid the collision and instead gone off the road. It was the second SUV that had been knocked off the road by the truck before it jackknifed.
While Grant’s vehicle was still coming to a stop, three vans skidded to a stop. Two teams of four converged on the ambulance while two men got the driver out of the semi. Between the eight men they hauled Ethan out still strapped to his stretcher.
And draped over him like a sack of flour was Melody.
“Drone followed them for as long as it could keep up. We have plates,” Admiral Crawford said.
“And?” Grant would have expected more by now, especially if Zain were on the case.
Marco blew out a breath. “They were rentals, stolen off a lot.”
“You mean to tell me we have no leads?” Grant glanced between the two men.
“Not yet,” Marco said.
“We’ll find them,” Admiral Crawford said.
“Like you found Ethan’s body the first time?” Grant regretted the words as soon as he’d said them.
Admiral Crawford met his gaze. “We learn from our mistakes, Anderson. That’s what makes us the best.”
In the moment Grant could barely hear the other man’s words. He’d known something was wrong. His gut had been screaming at him, and now Melody was going to pay the price.
SUNDAY. UNKNOWN, CHICAGO, Illinois.
Melody pulled her knees up to her chest and stared back at the man across the room from her. At first his unwavering gaze had made her uneasy. That was until she realized how.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, but in that short time she’d committed the room to memory. It was roughly sixteen feet long and ten or so across. The floor was exposed, unpolished concrete. She had to wonder what a room like this was intended for when it was built. She highly doubted it was supposed to be a cell. The popcorn ceiling was dated, older, as was the wooden door.
The drywall had been covered in the two corners with sheets of metal. She was secured to the wall with a four foot length of chain that fastened to rings set into the metal siding. Unlike Ethan, she had about four feet of chain that allowed her freer movement. Understandably, their captors hadn’t given Ethan quite so much freedom.
She’d never seen Ethan coherent, except when he’d been trying to kill her. He very nearly succeeded. That op in Lebanon was the only time she’d been truly injured while working for Aegis Group beyond a few bumps, bruises and scratches.
Ethan hadn’t moved as much as a finger. He just sat there staring at her. It was unnerving to say the least, but right now he wasn’t the threat to her life.
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
How did she make friends with a guy who couldn’t understand her? Who’d already tried—and failed—to kill her? Given the opportunity, would he finish the job?
“It seems like we’re in a bit of a situation, you and I.” She spoke softly, and yet her voice was still too loud, amplified by the concrete and metal. “You probably don’t remember me, do you?”
Ethan deigned to reply.
“You shot me twice in Beirut. Do you remember that? Did you even know?” She tilted her head back. “They had to evac me. I had surgery in Cairo, then got sent home as soon as I was stable. My co-leader, Grant, hovered over me for weeks after that
. He wasn’t able to be there with me for surgery. He was still trying to deal with you and our clients. But when he got home? He wouldn’t leave my side.”
Her heart twinged.
Was Grant okay? Was he alive?
She had no idea.
“That was the third time in my life I got shot. Did you know I used to be a cop?” She tilted her head.
Ethan still said nothing.
“I was. First time I got shot was a ricochet, stupid, should have never happened kind of thing. Second was a man who’d taken his family hostage. I misread the situation and stepped out to have a face-to-face moment with him. He shot me in the arm.”
Melody let her gaze slid away from Ethan, recalling that day.
She’d begun rethinking her career path right about then. Getting shot had just tipped her over the edge.
Funny, when Ethan shot her she’d just been annoyed and determined to get back to work as fast as she could.
“You know?” She refocused on Ethan. “I forgive you. I don’t know what they did to you or why, but I don’t blame you. Whatever these people did to you, you have no idea who you used to be. Maybe if things were different, we’d have been friends?”
Ethan blinked. It was like talking to a cat. He had no fucks to give her whatsoever.
“Your poor wife. Your son. They don’t know you’re still alive. They buried you. I wish you could understand me. I don’t want to hurt you. We only want to help. We’re on the same side, Ethan.”
His stare never wavered.
SUNDAY. AEGIS GROUP Headquarters, Chicago, Illinois.
Grant yanked open the door leading into Aegis Group Operations. He’d wasted nearly two hours at the abduction site talking to one cop after another. None of them were much help. Most had no idea what they were dealing with. He could only hope that someone here at headquarters had managed to get a lock on Melody’s location.
Wasn’t this why they’d all agreed to be tagged in the first place?
It would be night soon. With the sun setting the abduction site would reveal fewer and fewer clues. It would also be harder to find the stolen vans or identify people in low light.
They were facing the reality that Melody might not be found. Today or tomorrow, the longer she was missing the less chance they had of ever getting her back.
He stopped short, taking in the changes to the room. When he’d last been here, the room had a couple maps on the wall, a few computer terminals, a large conference table and some communications equipment. Now, there were easily a dozen people working at various stations, all very intent on what they were doing. He knew some of the faces, like Marco, Luke, Abigail, and Gavin, who’d taken over the tech department when Zain shifted to management in Seattle. Two or three other people he recognized, but couldn’t remember their names. Other than that they were strangers.
“TL.” Riley pushed to his feet.
Grant glanced at his second in command. Vaughn remained sitting next to Riley’s chair up against the wall out of the way.
“Any word?” Grant asked.
“None that we’ve heard.” Riley grimaced. “How’s Nolan and Brenden?”
“Fine. They should be here soon.” Grant scanned the people, searching their faces for any spark, any sign that they’d landed on something.
“This is, fuck...” Riley sank back into his seat.
Grant knew this was not his domain, that he wasn’t any good in this environment. He was a man of action. He did things. He wasn’t the one who’d ferret out some detail, he didn’t investigate. Those weren’t his strength. Never had been. He executed plans, followed orders, kept his team safe. His place right now was sitting in one of those chairs waiting for news.
He just couldn’t make himself do that. Not with Melody out there in enemy hands with a mad man.
“I need to know what’s happening,” he said.
Grant headed for Gavin. The kid wasn’t really a kid anymore, though that’s how Grant thought of him. The little Grant knew about Gavin’s story involved a far-too intelligent teenager who’d gotten himself into hot water the recruited by the Navy before he was even legal to do what amounted to tech magic in Grant’s book. No doubt Gavin had been lured away by the more lucrative private sector pay, and here he was.
Gavin had his head bent, looking at a tablet a young woman was holding.
“Yeah, see if you can pull any data from there. We could get lucky,” he said.
Grant had no intention of being polite. He didn’t stop until he was arm’s length away.
Gavin glanced up at Grant, lips parted, brows lifted.
“Where are we?” Grant asked.
Gavin glanced at the woman. “Work on that then let me know, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” The woman didn’t pay Grant any mind, just went on her way.
“Well, there hasn’t been much in the way of developments.” Gavin planted his hands on his hips and glanced at a projected map with red pins. “We’ve established what we know and are looking into tracking the Lebanese presence, figuring out where they’ve been, how’d they get here, who approved their visas.”
“None of that tells me how we’re going to find Melody.” Grant edged closer, his vision narrowing to Gavin’s face. “I don’t give a flying fuck how this happened. I just want to know how we’re going to fix it.”
Gavin stared right back at Grant. “To get to the end, we have to know the beginning.”
“I don’t have time for your fortune cookie bullshit,” Grant snarled.
“Hey? Hey, back off.” Marco grabbed Grant by the shoulders.
Grant shrugged the other man off. Or tried to. Marco’s grip was tight. Grant turned, planted his hands on Marco’s chest and shoved. The other man took a few steps back, caught off guard.
“You need to calm down,” Marco said, his voice pitched over the drone of voices.
“You need to do your job,” Grant replied.
“Hey.” A very pregnant Abigail came to stand between them, one hand on her distended belly. “Take this outside.
Abigail’s husband, Luke, came to stand next to her. Normally Luke was the first to crack a joke. Right now he was staring at Grant as if he’d like to crack some skulls. “You two, with me.”
Rationally, he knew this wasn’t the way to get things done. He just couldn’t help himself. Everything was so out of control, there were no answers, and at the heart of it, he knew Melody could already be dead.
They hadn’t gotten the chance to sort things out between them, not really. Last night, pajamas and face wash, it was a step, not the journey. And he wanted the chance to have that with her.
“Now,” Luke snapped.
Grant glanced around to find almost all activity had stopped. They were all staring at him and not looking for Melody.
Fuck.
How had this gotten so out of control?
“Sorry, everyone.” Grant held up his hands. This wasn’t like him. He didn’t do these things.
Marco headed after Luke leaving Grant to bring up the rear.
They didn’t stop in the hall. Instead Luke walked them out of the building. Both Riley and Vaughn followed after him. Grant wished they’d stay put, but he wasn’t in the right mind to give orders.
Luke came to a stop near some picnic tables that had been placed on a gravel pad under a tree. He turned to look at Grant, his dark eyes assessing him.
Not Grant’s proudest moment.
He turned toward Marco. “Sorry, man...”
Grant’s throat closed up. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t make the words come out.
“It’s cool.” Marco smacked his shoulder then gestured at Luke. “We’ve been there. We get it.”
Did they?
Both men were married now and though Grant knew a little about Luke’s wife and how she’d come to work for Aegis Group, he was clueless about Marco’s lady. Then again, it seemed common that life threatening danger brought men like them to the point whe
re they realized just how important their women were to them.
Grant loved Melody. He knew it in his bones.
“Wow,” Vaughn said. “Does she know?”
Grant turned his head and stared at Vaughn now sitting at a picnic table. Riley was beside him and both Nolan and Brenden were walking up, their eyes wide.
“What?” Grant said.
“Does she know you feel that way about her?” Vaughn’s brows lifted.
Had Grant just said that out loud?
Fuck.
He glanced at the four men he worked with, taking in their wide-eyed shock. Marco and Luke didn’t appear phased in the least.
“We’ve been there,” Marco said again. “I get what you’re going through. It’s scary as fuck to be this powerless, but you have to know everyone in there is doing their best to find her. That’s what we do. We save people.”
Luke nodded. “He’s right.”
“What about your friend?” Grant focused on Marco. “The guy that called himself Ghost?”
Marco blew out a breath. “He’s been radio silent since. I’ve tried every way I know to get ahold of him. If he doesn’t want to be found, we won’t find him. And he won’t answer us.”
“Did you tell him about Melody? That her life is on the line?”
Marco nodded.
Luke shifted, drawing attention back to him. “Like I said, we’re all doing what we can.”
But somehow it wasn’t enough.
SUNDAY. SAFE HOUSE, Chicago, Illinois.
Liman stared at the door, still trying to wrap his head around Elio attempting to attack him.
The man had been tested and found to be loyal to the point of death at one time. He’d been tortured and had three fingers mostly severed to determine if he had a breaking point. They’d only stopped because even with Elio’s enhancements there was only so much a body could take before it expired.
There had to be a reason for Elio’s behavior. Maybe it was the prolonged imprisonment, exposure to things from his past? Who knew?
Liman scrubbed a hand over his face.
He had to decide what to do.
When they returned home, he’d have to give an account of why the body count was so high. He would also have to explain why it was worth it.
Dangerously Entwined (Aegis Group Lepta Team, #5) Page 17
