by Janie Crouch
“Um, Agent Branson. You’re needed downstairs in the lobby. Like right now,” the man huffed out.
“Which one of us? We’re both Agent Branson,” Sawyer said.
The man hesitated for just a second. “I guess both of you. But he’s asking for you, Cameron.”
Cameron and Sawyer both stood. “Who’s asking for me?”
“I’ve never met him, sir, but someone said it’s your brother.” He looked over at Sawyer. “Your other brother, who used to work here. He’s down in the lobby and hurt pretty bad…”
Cameron was sprinting out the door at the first mention of his other brother. Sawyer was right behind him.
* * *
DYLAN SAT IN a chair surrounded by security personnel. Although sat really wasn’t the right word. Cameron’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach when he saw the shape his brother was in. One eye was swollen shut, his nose was most definitely broken and Dylan perched in the chair at a peculiar angle with his arm wrapped around his middle. That pose suggested broken, or at least cracked, ribs. And security was surrounding Dylan as if he was some sort of threat.
Cameron scanned the room and noticed immediately that Sophia was nowhere to be seen.
Sawyer uttered a vile curse when he saw Dylan, and his face echoed the shock Cameron knew lay on his own. Someone had worked their oldest brother over in a way Cameron and Sawyer had never seen. And getting the drop on Dylan was damn near impossible.
Both men lowered themselves beside Dylan’s chair so he wouldn’t have to look up at them.
“You.” Cameron turned back to the young man who had come to get them and pointed toward the main entrance. “Medic. Right damn now.” He turned to the security workers. “And you two, stand down.”
“He came in with no ID asking for you, Agent Branson. We didn’t know who he was. He was barely conscious,” one of the security guards said.
“He’s our brother,” Sawyer told them. “You did the right thing. We’ll handle it now.”
“Dyl, what the hell happened to you?” Cameron gave no more thought to the security team and gave all his attention to his brother. “Where’s Sophia?”
“They got her, Cam.” Every word was obvious agony for Dylan. “Smith showed up with his goons at the airport and they got her.”
Cameron felt the bottom of his very existence fall out from under him. He all but fell into the chair next to his brother. “Is she dead?”
Dylan shook his head gingerly. “No. No, they plan to keep her alive to flush you out.”
Cameron let out a huge breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. He was almost dizzy with relief. She was alive, at least for now. Cameron planned to do whatever he could to keep it that way. He couldn’t lose her now. Not when he had just gotten her back and realized she was the missing piece in his life.
Dylan shifted in the chair and a moan of pain escaped him. “They want you to bring Ghost something.” He tried to shrug but failed miserably. “They said to bring it to the warehouse from the last buy or…”
Cameron finished for him. “Or they’ll kill Sophia.”
Dylan winced. “The main guy said he’d start cutting her into little pieces if you weren’t there by midnight.”
Midnight? Cameron glanced at his watch. That was only an hour from now. There was no time to get a team together and prepped for the site. He struggled to tamp down the panic building inside him. Panic wouldn’t do any good now.
“You do know what he’s talking about, don’t you? The Ghost thing?”
Cameron made eye contact with Sawyer. Yeah, he knew what it was, but getting it was going to be much more difficult. Especially now that his boss was probably taking selfies with it in his office at this very moment. There was no way Burgamy was going to give Ghost Shell back to Cameron. Not even for Sophia’s life.
“Ghost Shell, yeah. I know what it is, bro.”
“Cam, you know this is a trap. Whatever it is they want, as soon as they get it, they’re going to kill you and her both. There’s at least four of them.” Dylan’s voice was getting weaker. They needed that medic quick. A glance at Sawyer told Cameron he was worried about the same thing.
“They won’t kill us if we have anything to say about it. I’ve got skills you’ve obviously lost, big brother,” Sawyer chimed in.
“Please,” Dylan muttered, his eyes drifting closed. “I could take you right now.”
“Dylan.” Cameron moved closer so his brother was sure to hear him. He had to know the answer to this, although he was afraid to ask. “Had they hurt Sophia?”
Dylan opened one eye. “The last I saw her, the beefy guy clocked her and they threw her in the trunk. But no permanent damage.”
Two medics came barreling through the lobby. Cameron stepped back so they could do their job. After just a few moments they announced that Dylan needed to be taken to the emergency room immediately.
“Hell no,” Dylan muttered. “If you two morons are going after DS-13, I’m coming with you.”
“You’re not going anywhere.” The medic turned to Cameron. “We’re looking at probable internal bleeding and a collapsed lung. The hospital is not optional,” she told him.
“Sorry, bro, you’ll have to listen to the pretty doc,” Sawyer told him. “No more partying for you today. Although for the first time I wish I could trade places with you.” Cameron rolled his eyes as Sawyer gave the medic his megawatt grin.
Cameron leaned in to Dylan one last time. “We’ll handle this, bro. You’ve done enough. We’ll see you soon after we get Sophia.”
Dylan nodded weakly. Cameron stood up and grabbed Sawyer by the arm. “Let’s go talk to Burgamy.” After a few steps Cameron turned back to Dylan. “Thank you, Dylan.”
But his brother was unconscious.
Sawyer and Cameron jogged to the elevator and pressed the button for the floor Burgamy’s office was on.
“You know Burgamy’s not going to give up Ghost Shell,” Sawyer told him.
“Yeah, I know.” Cameron rubbed the back of his neck.
“How well does DS-13 know Ghost Shell? Could we pull off a fake?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe with enough time, but not by midnight. They’re going to want to test it before making any sort of trade. At least that’s what I would do. And they’ve got a pretty high-ranking FBI agent on the take. If he’s there, we definitely can’t fool him.” The elevator door opened and they began walking down the hall.
“So we need the real Ghost Shell,” Sawyer said.
“Yeah.”
“Did I mention Burgamy’s going to say no when you ask him for Ghost Shell? Not even to save someone’s life.”
Cameron ignored his brother. He had no intention of asking Burgamy for anything. His weapon was holstered on his belt. Cameron knew this was going to cost him his career and maybe even cause him to spend time in prison, but he didn’t care. He was going to force Burgamy to give him Ghost Shell and then was going to get Sophia. And, by God, he was going to get her out alive.
He’d deal with the consequences later.
Cameron knocked briefly on Burgamy’s office door then walked in without waiting for a response. Burgamy had one hip propped against his desk and was talking on his office phone.
The Ghost Shell drive was sitting on the desk right next to him. Thank God.
Burgamy shot them both an annoyed glance. “Let me get back to you tomorrow, Director. I’ll be sure to give you the whole story then.”
Cameron barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Although, why bother hiding his annoyance with this conceited boss when Cameron was about to have much bigger insubordination issues. He put his hand on his holster.
Burgamy hung up and stood, obviously ready to light into Cameron and Sawyer.
“Hey, Burgamy.” Saw
yer started walking toward the man before Cameron could do anything. “Did I ever tell you about the time I met this ridiculously hot blonde in an elevator at the San Francisco FBI field office…?”
Cameron watched as his brother got to Burgamy’s desk, seemed to trip and “accidentally” coldcocked Burgamy in the jaw. Hard. Burgamy fell to the ground completely unconscious.
“What the hell?” Cameron asked.
“Hey, that was better than whatever you were about to do there, Clint Eastwood.” Sawyer gestured to Cameron’s hand that still rested on his weapon. “Now grab Ghost Shell and let’s go.”
Cameron shook his head, still a little in shock at what had just happened. “How did you know?”
“Because, sweet heaven, could you have any more of the ‘I’m going to get her out no matter what it costs me’ look broadcasted all over your face? Seriously. Why don’t you audition for a melodrama or something?” Sawyer rolled his eyes. “Save me from people in love.”
Cameron followed Sawyer out the door, grateful for his brother’s theatrics. There would still be consequences, but not nearly as bad as with Cameron’s initial plan. As they jogged to the stairs it occurred to Cameron that it hadn’t even bothered him that Sawyer had said Cameron was in love.
Because he was.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sophia awoke in a dark place. She immediately closed her eyes again but could feel her heart rate accelerate and her breathing become more shallow. Every muscle in her body tensed. She reached around with her hands, immediately recognizing where she was from the tight fit and continuous movement underneath her body.
She was in the trunk of a car.
Sophia’s first response was near panic. She stretched out her legs, her arms, twisting all around, trying to see if anything would give or open. Nothing did.
Sophia fought—hard—to stay in control of her own body and mind. She didn’t open her eyes. There was no point really; it was dark anyway. Instead she concentrated on breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She fisted and unfisted her hands, trying to give the tension coursing through her body somewhere to go.
Refocus.
Sophia thought of Cameron this afternoon in the cave and how kissing him, just being with him, had helped her get her panic under control. He wasn’t here now to help her, but she knew Cameron believed in her strength to handle this.
Sophia continued her breathing exercises while she tried to take stock of the situation. She was in Smith’s car. The trunk wasn’t that small—Sophia felt her breathing and heart rate hitch again, better not concentrate on that—and the car was still moving.
Sophia scooted herself over so she was all the way to the back of the trunk and put her face up against the metal. It was cold, which felt good on her overheated skin, and she could feel just a hint of air flowing in from outside since the car was moving.
That little bit of air helped her to calm down even more. Remembering that it was fall and night—there was no way she was going to overheat—helped even further. Sophia turned at a diagonal so she could stretch out her legs a little more, thankful for the first time for her short stature.
Although she wasn’t feeling calm, Sophia wasn’t feeling panicked. As long as she was in this car and it was moving, as uncomfortable as it may be, she was at least out of Smith’s clutches. Sophia thought of Dylan and shuddered. When she saw him last he had barely looked alive. Sophia thought about how much her jaw hurt after her run-ins with Rick. She couldn’t imagine the shape Dylan was in. Would he even be able to get the message to Cameron?
And how would Cameron be able to get Ghost Shell to trade for her life? No law enforcement agency would be willing to risk something like Ghost Shell falling back into DS-13’s hands. Omega Sector would be no exception. Not to save one single person’s life. And Sophia couldn’t blame them.
She had to face the fact that she might be on her own. Yeah, Cameron would try to help, if Dylan had even been able to get the message to him, but without Ghost Shell there was no way they were walking out of there. But she had to face it, even with Ghost Shell there was no way Smith was going to let them walk out of there.
Sophia shifted again to allow her torso to stretch out and felt something hard up against her hip. She reached back to shift it out of her way. A tire iron.
A tire iron.
She brought it in front of her and clutched it like a baby. It wasn’t much, but it was something. She wasn’t going down without a fight.
They drove for a long time before the road got rougher and they slowed. They must be getting near the warehouse. Sophia wondered how long it was until midnight. She had no idea how long she’d been in this trunk. Soon the car pulled to a stop. Once again Sophia had to focus on keeping calm. Without the air flowing through the crack she’d found in the trunk, it seemed so much more difficult to breathe. Sophia focused on her breathing. She had to be ready. She’d only have one chance to take them by surprise when they opened the trunk. She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—allow panic to overwhelm her.
* * *
THE CLOCK WAS ticking in more ways than one. It was getting close to midnight—Smith’s deadline. But it also wouldn’t be much longer before his boss figured out what was going on. All Burgamy would have to do is talk to one of the medics who treated Dylan, or the security team who escorted him in, and Burgamy would know where they were headed. Either way they had to get this done, and soon.
He and Sawyer were outmanned and outgunned. Under any other circumstances Cameron would also admit they were walking into a situation where the hostage might already be dead. But he refused to even entertain that notion right now. Sophia was not dead.
He could barely stand the thought of her being trapped in the trunk of a car. After what he saw with her today, in a cave that comparatively was much more open than a trunk, Cameron could only assume Sophia would be paralyzed by fear and panic. His white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel became even tighter.
“So what’s the plan?” Sawyer asked him. They were only a few minutes from the warehouse.
“To be honest, man, I don’t have a good plan.”
“A good plan being where we all make it out alive and DS-13 doesn’t end up with Ghost Shell?”
“Yeah. Got any ideas?”
“My good ideas started and ended with clocking Burgamy in the jaw.” Sawyer chucked softly.
“I think our best bet is for me to drop you around back, then you try to get somewhere that is hidden but you can pick off one or two of them,” Cameron told him.
“But Dylan said there were at least four of them. You think you’re going to be able to take down two or more before they get you?”
Honestly, no. Cameron didn’t think that. But what choice did he have? His primary objective was to allow Sophia to make it out alive. Making it out himself would just be a bonus. But Cameron knew they couldn’t let Ghost Shell get taken by Smith. They would use it to trade for Sophia’s life, but definitely not let DS-13 leave with it.
“Sawyer, no matter what, we can’t allow DS-13 to leave with Ghost Shell in its fully functional form. Even though we took it from Omega, I just want you to know that I’m aware of that. It’s more important than any of our lives.”
Sawyer leaned over and winked at Cameron, grinning. “Don’t sweat it, brother. I plan to pop a cap in some DS-13 ass if it comes down to it. That hard drive will not make it out of the warehouse in one piece if DS-13 has it.”
Cameron shook his head. Sawyer was crazy, but he understood what was at stake here.
Cameron pulled the car behind the warehouse next door and dropped Sawyer off so he could make the rest of the way on foot. Then he drove slowly to the warehouse where Smith and his men waited. It was five till midnight.
Smith had pulled his vehicle all the way into the warehouse so Cameron
did the same. Was Sophia still in that trunk? Had she passed out? Hyperventilated? Was she wounded? Injured as Dylan had been? Cameron pushed those thoughts aside; he couldn’t let his concern about Sophia cloud his decision making. He just needed to get her out alive. Anything else she could heal from.
But Cameron did wish he knew what sort of physical condition Sophia was in. Would she be able to run? Would she need to be carried? If he had to stay behind, would she be able to get out on her own? With her having been trapped in the trunk he could only assume the worst.
The only saving grace in this entire situation was that Smith and DS-13 were desperate to get their hands on Ghost Shell in working condition. It would be of no use to them if it was damaged. Ghost Shell would be Cameron’s hostage.
He prayed it would be enough.
Smith was standing beside his vehicle. Rick was sitting on the trunk, which was facing Cameron’s car, a big grin on his face. Marco, arm in a sling, stood perched beside Rick, leaning against the car. Cameron couldn’t see Fin anywhere around. He hoped Sawyer had eyes on him, and anyone else who might be up in the rafters.
Cameron took out his weapon and threw the holster onto the seat next to him. He picked up Ghost Shell and held the drive directly in front of his chest. As he got out of the car he wanted to make sure that everyone in DS-13 knew if they shot him, he was taking Ghost Shell down with him. It was the only protection he had.
“Cam, right on time. How professional of you,” Smith announced in a pleasant voice that didn’t fool Cameron for a second.
“Well, my brother said you asked so politely.”
Smith gave a condescending smile. “I do find violence so distasteful, Cam. But it was so important that we give the right message and your brother was quite useful for that effect.” Rick snickered from his perch on top of the trunk, but Cameron kept his attention focused on Smith.
Cameron could feel tension cording his neck and struggled to hang on to his temper. This bastard had killed his partner, had nearly killed his brother and was standing there looking positively gleeful only ten feet in front of him. Cameron was sorely tempted to put a bullet in Smith right here and now, and then let things happen as they may. Only the thought of Sophia getting hurt—or worse—kept him from doing so.