by CW Browning
“Don’t worry,” he told the cat. “It’s not for long.”
He shut the door and turned to go back up the short sidewalk to the townhouse.
“That is one unhappy cat,” he said, stepping back into the house.
Silence greeted him and Michael raised an eyebrow, glancing around. The living room was empty, and Angela’s bags were still sitting at the base of the stairs.
“Angie?”
Again, only silence. A prickle of awareness went down his spine and Michael’s gut tightened as he reached for the 9mm side arm that he carried everywhere. The silence was unnatural and deafening, and he unsnapped his holster, pulling out his weapon.
“Angie!”
Nothing.
He strode through the living room to the short hallway and drew up short, his heart pounding. The back door stood open and the floor lamp that had been next to the umbrella stand was overturned, laying across the short hallway. His skin grew cold and Michael ran to the back door and out onto the back step. The ground in two-foot stretch of lawn between the back step and the driveway was disturbed, as if something had been dragged across the grass.
“Angela!” Michael yelled, stepping off the back porch. He carefully skirted the drag marks in the grass and ran down the driveway to the sidewalk. He looked down the street just in time to see the black bumper of a pickup round the corner.
“Dammit!”
Michael looked down as he replaced his weapon in his holster. Something glinted in the gutter next to the curb and he bent down to take a closer look. His breath caught in his throat as he recognized the designer gold charm bracelet.
Angela had been wearing it when she put Annabelle into the carrier.
Chapter Twenty
Alina rolled up and stopped behind the Range Rover, killing the engine. It was just after four and the sun had already sunk below the tree line. She climbed out of the Porsche and turned to go across the grass to the deck, glancing at the black Audi parked beside her. Michael must have been able to convince Angela to come back to the house.
She had just reached the steps to the deck when the sliding door flew open and Stephanie charged out.
“Thank God you’re here!” she cried. “She’s gone! He took her!”
Alina stilled at the top of the steps, staring at Stephanie as a wave of dread washed over her.
“What?”
Her voice was sharp and carried into the living room. Michael appeared in the open doorway, his face grim. Without a word, he held out the gold charm bracelet. Alina’s eyes dropped to it and her lips tightened in an unpleasant line.
“Where?” she demanded, moving past Stephanie and into the house.
Michael moved aside before she pushed him out of the way.
“Her house,” he said. “They went in the back door while I was putting the cat into the car out front.”
Alina strode to the bar, dropping the keys to the Porsche on the marble surface. When she turned, it was Viper that gazed around the living room. Hawk was leaning against the wall near the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest and his lips pressed together. Blake was pacing in front of the fireplace, his cell phone pressed to his ear. He looked up and caught her glance from across the room.
“I’m on the phone with Rob now,” he told her. “He’s mobilizing a task force. We’ll find her.”
Viper shook her head. “No, you won’t. He’s too good for that.”
Stephanie stared at her, her eyes welling with tears.
“What do you mean?” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Viper turned her emotionless gaze to Stephanie.
“Harry knows better than to leave a trail. Angela won’t be found until he’s ready for her to be found.”
“So we’re not even supposed to try?” Stephanie asked incredulously.
“You can try, but it won’t do any good.” She turned to look at Michael. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
Michael crossed the living room, sinking down onto the recliner.
“We left here and went to the gym,” he said. “We were there for, I don’t know, maybe an hour and a half. When we left there, we went straight to her house. She said she wanted to get some clothes together and get her cat, and then we were coming back here. She’d decided to stay until this is all over.”
Viper glanced at Stephanie and her friend nodded, sinking down onto the couch.
“It’s true,” she said. “I talked Angie into staying last night. I told her it would be safer here. After what happened with Trent, I was able to convince her.”
Viper nodded and turned her attention back to Michael. “Did you see anything when you got to her house?”
Michael shook his head. “Nothing. There were three cars already parked on the street in front of her house, but she knew them. They belonged to her neighbors.”
“You said they went in from the back.” Damon said, breaking his silence. “What about back there? Did you see anything unusual back there?”
“The street behind her house was lined with close to twenty cars and trucks. According to what Angela said, it’s always crowded back there. She never uses her driveway because of it.”
“He’s right,” Stephanie said. “Everyone in the neighborhood parks behind their houses there, and the street is very long and narrow. It makes it harder to get in and out from the back, so Angela always parks in the front. She said she doesn’t have the patience to deal with a traffic jam at her own house.”
Viper’s eyes met Hawk’s.
“No one would notice a strange vehicle back there,” he said.
She nodded. “That’s why he went in the back.”
Michael scowled.
“He must have known I was with her,” he said. “He waited until I was out of the house.”
Alina looked across the room at him. For a moment, something resembling sympathy crossed her face. In a second, it was gone and her expression went back to the neutral, unemotional mask they were all getting used to.
“There’s nothing you could have done,” she said shortly. “This was a professional. They don’t make mistakes.”
“That doesn’t make me feel any better,” he muttered.
“Dwelling on it is counterproductive,” Damon said briskly, unfolding his arms and walking over to sit on the couch. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and glanced at Alina. “You know what this means.”
She nodded and perched on the arm of the couch next to him. “Yes, and he’ll regret it.”
Stephanie looked from one to the other, her brows furrowed.
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “What does it mean? Why did they take Angela? I mean, I understand why he may want me dead, but what the hell does Angela have to do with any of this?”
Alina met her gaze. “Individually? Absolutely nothing.”
Stephanie scowled. “Then why take her? And what are they going to do to her?”
“Right now? Nothing.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Harry’s using her. This isn’t about Angela right now, and this isn’t about you. This is about me. He’s using Angela to get to me.”
Stephanie’s eyes widened in sudden understanding and she gasped.
“He knows you’ll go after her!”
“Yes.”
“Well, you can’t do it,” Stephanie said. “We’ll let Rob handle this. Let him send a task force. If you work with us, you can tell them where to go.”
Alina’s lips twisted humorlessly. “I wish it were that simple.”
“I don’t see the complication,” Blake said, lowering his phone. He glanced at Stephanie. “Rob’s calling me back in five minutes,” he told her. “They’re running the GPS on her phone now.”
Damon and Alina glanced at each other. Catching the look, Blake raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“They won’t get any hits on her GPS,” Damon said. “I can guarantee it’s been turned off, and the phone destroyed.
”
“That’s if the phone ever left the house,” Alina pointed out. “If it was me, I’d leave the phone in the house. It’s less complicated that way, and no risk of inadvertently leaving a trail.”
Stephanie frowned.
“But if Rob is running the GPS, that means he already has a signal,” she said. “So it must not be turned off.”
“Trust me,” Alina said. “The GPS track will get them nowhere.”
“Then what the hell are we supposed to do?” Stephanie demanded. “You can’t expect me to just sit here and let our best friend be tortured...or worse!”
The look on Viper’s face was frightening. “No, but I’ll be the one to handle this.”
“This is ridiculous,” Blake said. “You can use all the help you can get, and the FBI is willing to help. Why won’t you let us?”
“The short answer? I don’t trust you.”
Stephanie and Blake both sucked in their breath and their mouths dropped open.
“Excuse me? Care to explain that?” Blake demanded.
Alina shrugged.
“Don’t take it personally. It’s not you specifically I don’t trust,” she said. “It’s your agency. Do you really, for one minute, believe that Harry doesn’t have people inside your agency? Use your head. You know who Harry is, and you know what he’s capable of. I can guarantee that he’s aware of every single thing Rob is doing right this second, and he’s made counter plans.”
“Not only that,” Damon said, “but he’s probably already planned for every possible scenario, taken it into account, activated counter-measures, and planned around all of it. In fact, he probably did all of that before he even gave the order to have Angela taken.”
Stephanie sat back and stared at the ceiling. “So what you’re saying is, Angela is already dead.”
“Steph, you can’t think like that,” Blake said, shooting Damon and Alina an exasperated look.
“That’s not what I’m saying at all,” Alina said. “In fact, I believe just the opposite. Harry won’t kill her until he has me. He won’t risk losing the only leverage he has to get me out into the open.”
Stephanie looked at her and let out a strangled sound.
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t. Far from it.”
Alina shrugged. “I’m just stating facts.”
“So where does that leave us?” Michael asked, lifting his head and looking at Alina. “Because, I gotta tell you, if anything happens to her, I’ll take the bastard down myself.”
Alina met Michael’s green gaze and she smiled faintly. Instead of his usual friendly face, she was staring at the deadly Marine that she knew he could be. She nodded slowly.
“Fair enough,” she murmured.
“That’s all very touching,” Stephanie muttered, “but it doesn’t answer the question. What now?”
“Now, I go to work.” Viper said, her voice like ice.
Stephanie looked up as Blake handed her a bottle of water. She was settled in the recliner, her feet up, and her Kindle in her lap.
“There’s leftover Chinese food from last night,” Blake said. “I’m going to reheat some. Are you hungry?”
“You really expect me to eat?” Stephanie asked miserably. “I can’t, not knowing that Angela is terrified and going through God knows what.”
“Not eating isn’t going to help her.”
“If I eat now, I’ll throw it right back up,” she said bluntly, opening the water bottle taking a sip. “I’ll try to eat later,” she added at the look on his face, “when I’ve calmed down.”
Blake nodded and turned away. “Let me know if you change your mind.”
Michael looked up from his laptop as Blake passed the dining room table. “What’s left over?” he asked, sitting back in the chair and stretching.
“I think some of just about everything,” Blake answered. “What do you want?”
Michael got up and followed him into the kitchen.
“Let's see what there is,” he said.
Blake opened the refrigerator door and began pulling out Chinese food containers and handing them to Michael.
“Have you heard back from Rob?” Michael asked, setting the food containers on the island behind him.
“Yes. The Black Widow was right. GPS shows the phone is still at her house and, so far, nothing on the surveillance cameras or CCTV of the area is giving any clue as to who took her.”
“So she just disappeared,” Michael said.
Blake glanced at him, noting the tone in his voice. “Mike, this isn’t your fault,” he said in a low voice. “There’s no way you could have prevented it.”
Michael glanced at him. “I should never have left her alone. If I had been with her, she’d be here right now.”
“That’s illogical and you know it,” Blake said, passing him two more containers. “She would have been alone at some point, even if it was just to go to the bathroom. You heard Viper. These guys are professionals. They would’ve found a way.”
“Yeah, well so am I, and I shouldn’t have left her. I’m trained to protect the President, for God’s sake!”
Blake closed the refrigerator door and turned to join Michael, opening up food containers to see what they had.
“Well, if you want to beat yourself up about it, feel free, but for God’s sake, don’t let it affect what you do next. You know as well as I do, there’s no room in battle for self-doubt.”
Michael glanced at him in amusement. “Battle?”
Blake looked at him. “That’s what this is.”
“But it’s not our battle to fight,” Michael retorted. “You heard Lina. She’s taking this one on herself.”
“Yeah, I heard her, but I also know you. You’re not going to let this go. All I’m saying is leave the emotion behind. We’ve been through too much for me to watch you get yourself killed because you were stupid.”
Michael let out a choked laugh. “Understood.”
Stephanie hobbled into the kitchen, leaning heavily on her cane. She looked at all the containers on the island and wrinkled her nose.
“I don’t know how the two of you can eat at a time like this,” she said. “I mean, even Alina’s not in here eating.”
Blake raised eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Stephanie frowned and leaned against the island.
“Just that she doesn’t seem to show any emotion anymore, so it wouldn’t be surprising if she was in here stuffing her face.”
Michael frowned. “You think she’s not upset?”
“Well, she certainly wasn’t acting upset,”
“I don’t know that I would say that,” Blake said, turning to get two plates from the cabinet. “From what I could tell, she looked furious.”
“Yeah, she was probably furious at me for letting it happen,” Michael said, taking the plate Blake handed him. He began piling it high with beef lo mein. “But you’re right. I don’t think Alina felt nothing.”
Stephanie looked from one to the other.
“I’ve known Alina for almost all my life,” she said, “but I can’t read her at all anymore. You two have only known her for a couple of months. How come you think you know what’s going on in her head?”
“Maybe that’s why,” Blake said. “You’re looking at her as the woman she always used to be. We’re seeing the woman she is now.”
She sighed.
“I don’t know who she is anymore, but I know she’ll get herself killed if she keeps trying to handle this whole thing on her own.”
“She’s not on her own.”
Damon spoke behind them, his voice deep and even. All three spun around and stared at him guiltily. He walked over to the cabinet to get a plate then turned towards the food.
“Don’t be so quick to judge Alina,” he told Stephanie. “She is a different person now, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.”
Stephanie grimaced.
“You weren’t supposed
to hear that,” she said, turning away. “Anyway, it’s not that I think she doesn’t care. It’s just that there’s no emotion left in her. I don’t understand it. Angela could be anywhere, going through anything, and Alina doesn’t seem fazed by any of.”
“What Alina feels and what she lets you see are two different things,” Damon said, scooping chicken and broccoli onto his plate.
Michael looked at Damon consideringly.
“What do you think the odds are that we get Angela back?” he asked softly.
Damon’s blue eyes met his. “Oh, Viper will get her back.”
“And Alina?”
Damon’s gaze became hooded, and he took his plate to the microwave.
“Well, that’s a different question,” he said, “and one I can’t answer. I’m not blessed enough to see the future.”
“Do you think it’s possible for her to come out of this alive?” Michael asked the question all three of them were thinking.
Damon glanced at them.
“Yes, but only if you guys let us do our job.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Alina opened the bottom drawer of the desk and looked at the document safe inside. She was in the front den with the door closed while the others were in the living room. Until they went to bed, she and Hawk were unable to access the command center. While she acknowledged the necessity of telling them about Harry, she drew the line at revealing the existence of the secret rooms under her kitchen. For the time being, the den was the new command center.
She bent down and typed in the digital code to the safe. Opening it, she pulled out a folder with CLASSIFIED - FOR YOUR EYES ONLY stamped across the front. Alina closed the safe and pushed the drawer shut, setting the folder on the desk.
Last week she had ended up saving the head of MI6 again when assassins tried to kill him in his hotel room in New York. In return, he agreed to find everything he could on a certain bank account in Singapore. When she met Jack in Philadelphia a few days later, he had passed her the file with the warning that it was the sole copy of the information inside. Then all hell let loose and she didn’t have time to look through it. Now she flipped it open and reached for her coffee. It was time to see what MI6 had been able to discover about Carmichael’s bank account in Singapore.