by Laura Scott
He needed everything to go according to plan.
There wasn’t a minute to waste.
* * *
September 10 – 11:22 a.m. – Washington, DC
What in the world? They’d barely dispersed from the conference room when Yates called yet another urgent meeting, demanding their presence immediately. He was beginning to think he’d given the guy too much credit. From what he could tell, the moron couldn’t manage his way out of a paper bag.
He made sure to take a different seat this time, avoiding the chance of being directly across from Yates’s piercing gaze. No matter how much he despised him, he didn’t like the way Yates often glared at him.
There was a full minute of silence before their boss spoke.
“Aaron Cooper was found dead outside a coffee shop earlier this morning.” The blunt statement hung in the air for maximum impact.
He glanced at the others in the room. “You mean, our Aaron Cooper? Berkshire’s assistant?”
“Yes.” His strategy to avoid Yates didn’t work because his boss’s gaze bored into his even from an angle.
“What happened?” someone asked. “Did he have a medical emergency of some sort?”
“No.” Again, his boss’s gaze hit him, then moved on to look at every one of them seated around the table. “The ME is ruling Cooper’s death a homicide.”
What? No! That was impossible! He’d been careful to use cyanide, that usually looked just like a heart attack via autopsy. Getting toxicology results from autopsies took at least fourteen days, maybe more.
His contact hadn’t been dead more than three and a half hours.
“What happened?” This time another voice broke the silence. “How was he killed?”
Their boss didn’t answer for a long moment. “The better question here is why? Why was Aaron Cooper murdered in cold blood?”
His mouth went dry, and he wished he’d thought to bring a cup of coffee or a water bottle with him. He spoke fast. “We need to open an investigation into his recent activities. See if we can understand what happened.”
“We?” Yates’s voice was soft but held a note of steel. “We aren’t doing any such thing. I have a different task force set up to deal with Cooper’s murder.”
It took all his willpower not to shift in his seat. Instead, he nodded thoughtfully. “I can see the wisdom in that approach.”
“Can you?” Again, Yates’s voice was dangerously soft.
“Of course.” He put an earnest expression on his face. “I think you should include the NSA and others with high-level security ranks to investigate this. I’m sure there’s video feed somewhere. This is terrible news, just awful.”
“Yes, it is.” Was it his imagination or was there a sarcastic note in his boss’s tone? “Two deaths within the FBI offices so close together must be related.”
“That’s an interesting theory. One your special task force should run with.” He felt himself relax. Yes, this was exactly what he’d hoped would happen. There were no video cameras, he’d made sure of that. His plan was to have Cooper’s death linked to that of Ray Pallone.
With absolutely no evidence coming back to implicate him.
* * *
September 10 – 11:27 a.m. – Baltimore, MD
“Jordan? We have another link that just popped into your email from the kidnappers.”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and searched for a place to pull off. “Took longer than I thought,” he admitted, spying a strip mall. Wrenching the steering wheel to the right, he cut off the car behind him in order to make the turn into the parking lot.
“Please, God. Please don’t let them hurt Bryn,” Diana whispered.
He silently echoed her prayer. Choosing a parking space off to the side, he threw the gearshift into park and turned in his seat. “Give me the computer.”
Sun handed him the device. This time, the link was labeled Rashidsfailuretofreemustaf.
Failure. He swallowed hard and clicked the link.
This time, the room appeared to be empty. Yet he knew it wasn’t. His phone rang, and with an acute sense of dread, he placed the call on speaker. “This is Jordan Rashid.”
“Your daughter’s blood will stain your hands,” the mechanical voice said.
Diana’s dark eyes filled with horror, and she opened her mouth to respond, but he held up his hand to stop her and gave her a warning look. “I don’t know why you’re upset, Mustaf is right where I need him. He’s been transported to Washington Hospital where he’s already undergoing surgery.”
“If he dies . . .” the mechanical voice began, but Jordan swiftly interrupted.
“I’ve already checked in with the hospital staff,” he said. “I assure you Mustaf’s injuries are not life threatening. If the gunshot had been meant to kill him, trust me, the sniper would not have missed his chest or his head. He would already be dead. This is all part of my master plan.”
There was a pause as the caller digested this information.
“I can get him out of Washington Hospital easier than I’d be able to break him out of an air force base or a federal prison,” Jordan continued. “I have every intention of meeting your eight p.m. deadline.”
“Ask about Bryn,” Diana mouthed in a whisper.
“I’d like to see my daughter.” He kept his gaze on Diana. “I need to make sure Bryn is okay. If you’ve hurt her or already killed her, then maybe I’ll have to make sure Mustaf suffers the same fate.” It was an idle threat. He didn’t kill people unless he was firing in self-defense. Besides, he wasn’t going to worry about Mustaf even if they’d harmed Bryn. But he didn’t think they’d done anything to their daughter.
Yet.
“We will contact you in thirty minutes and send a link so you may see your daughter.” Instantly, the line went dead and the webcam disappeared from the email link.
He let out a heavy sigh. “I think they bought it.”
“I hope so.” Diana didn’t sound convinced. “What if they’ve already hurt her?”
“We can’t think like that.” He handed the computer back to Sun and took Diana’s hand. Her fingers were ice cold, and despite the heat of the sun warming the interior of the car, she was shivering. “Our daughter is strong, you taught her well, Diana. She’s a survivor. We’re going to find her.” He glanced back at Sun. “How far is the warehouse known as Liberty Bell?”
“Another fifteen minutes, maybe less.” Sun offered a grim smile. “Maybe we’ll beat mechanical voice there.”
“What do you mean beat them there?” Diana looked perplexed. “The kidnappers are already with Bryn.”
“I don’t think so,” Sun mused slowly. “Have you noticed that every time we ask to talk to Bryn they make us wait a specific timeframe? Last time it was within the hour, this time thirty minutes. If she was right there close by, they wouldn’t need to delay, they could simply carry the phone into the next room, switch cameras, and be ready to roll.”
Jordan slowly nodded, thinking about the empty room on the link. Was it just a decoy room? Not the place where Bryn was being held? “You’re right. I should have put that together sooner. Even when they sent that very first video, they made us wait to talk to her.” He glanced at Sun. “Which means they have two locations.”
“Yes,” Sun agreed. “At least two, if not more.”
“But you think Bryn is being held at Liberty Bell, right?” Diana asked.
“I think it’s a very real possibility,” Sun hedged. “We won’t know for sure until we check the place out.”
“Let’s hurry, Jordan, please?” Diana’s dark eyes pleaded with him. “If she’s truly being held there, and these guys are going there so we can talk to her, we need to find her before they arrive.”
“It might be better to keep eyes on the place to see if we even have the correct location,” Jordan countered. “If they show up prior to the thirty-minute window, we’d know for sure Bryn was there.”
“Normally, I would agree with a wait
and watch approach,” Sun said. “But getting Bryn out of the place might be easier without additional men being there and tipping the odds in their favor.”
Sun had a point. Fanatics were a dime a dozen, so there could already be several men watching over Bryn. Adding more would only create a larger obstacle for them to break through in order to free Bryn.
“Okay, we’ll go to the warehouse ASAP.” He put the car in gear and pulled out of the strip mall parking lot.
“Thank you,” Diana murmured.
He glanced at her. “Thank me when we have Bryn safe and sound.”
Diana shook her head, lightly touching his arm. “I have confidence in your abilities, Jordan.”
He didn’t answer. Having Diana’s vote of confidence was nice, but she wasn’t considering the possibility that Liberty Bell might not be where Bryn was being held. It could very well be the terrorist’s main headquarters.
Which would be great if he had an entire team backing him up, but he didn’t.
Sun was lethal in her own way, an expert in martial arts, not to mention an excellent shot with any gun you put her in hand, but Diana wasn’t used to this kind of thing. It was too late to call Sloan or Yates for additional help.
At this point, they were on their own.
* * *
September 10 – 11:36 a.m. – Baltimore, MD
Elam watched the man in front of Liberty Bell for what seemed like forever. Even from here, he could tell the guard was bored. The sun was out, a cool breeze wafting in from the ocean, but the man standing guard fidgeted and paced, glancing frequently at his watch.
Elam took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. What was he waiting for? There was no way to know how many guards were inside the warehouse. At this point, he needed to take care of the one he could see.
Then he’d worry about the others.
No more stalling. He picked up the detonator and stared down at it. How many people would be hurt by this act he was about to commit?
Too many.
But he couldn’t let that matter. This diversion was necessary to get Meira out of there. Together, they would find a way to escape these men.
And survive.
He closed his eyes and sent up a whispered prayer. “Please forgive me, Lord.”
Before he could change his mind, he pressed the trigger. Seconds later, an explosion rocked the earth.
* * *
September 10 – 11:36 a.m. – Baltimore, MD
“What was that?” Diana asked harshly, bracing herself with a hand on the dashboard. “Another explosion? Bryn?”
Dear Lord above, had these mad men killed their daughter?
“Hang on, we’re going to find out.” Jordan’s voice was terse, and he was maneuvering through traffic like a Formula 1 racer, cutting people off without caring about the series of horns that followed him.
“Try to remain calm, Diana,” Sun said from the back seat. “I’m pulling up the news now.”
Calm? Diana wanted to scream in frustration. As if the Korean woman would be calm if her daughter was kidnapped.
And maybe dead.
No! She couldn’t imagine her life without Bryn. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t.
“Sun, give me directions for the Liberty Bell warehouse,” Jordan said.
“Take a left here, then six blocks down take a right,” Sun directed. “That gets us close, but we’ll need to park and walk from there.”
“I see smoke”—Diana pushed the words through her tight throat—“coming from near the water.”
“I know.” Jordan sent her a grim glance. “Try not to worry.”
Impossible. He was asking the impossible. She’d trusted Jordan to get to Bryn, but they were too late.
The kidnappers didn’t buy their ruse of helping to arrange for Mustaf to be shot for the sole purpose of getting him out of the hospital.
What if Bryn had paid the ultimate price?
* * *
September 10 – 11:42 a.m. – Baltimore, MD
Jordan felt sick but did his best to stay focused on getting them to the warehouse. He noticed that several of the cars were headed in the opposite direction, which didn’t bode well.
Please, God, please keep Bryn safe in Your care.
“Pull over,” Sun said, distracting him. “The warehouse should be on the next block.
“There isn’t smoke coming from these buildings,” Jordan said as he wedged the car into the parking spot. “It looks like it’s farther away.”
“A-are you sure you have the right address?” Diana asked, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
“I’m positive.” Sun looked out the window again. The sounds of fire engines and police vehicles echoed around them. “I don’t think the Liberty Bell warehouse is the location of the explosion.”
Jordan was more than willing to keep praying for a miracle. “Sun, you and I will go to the warehouse. Diana, wait for us here.”
“No, I’m coming too.”
He wasn’t sure why he bothered since she never listened to him. Still, there was no time to argue. He and Sun led the way down the street to the corner. Diana kept pace, staying directly behind him.
Without a word, Sun went first, slipping around the corner and walking up a block, then she turned again and headed directly toward a large reddish-brown building. Jordan swept his gaze over the area but didn’t see anyone lurking nearby.
When they reached the warehouse, there was no sign on the outside and no lock on the door like the previous times.
In fact, the door was hanging ajar.
His pulse quickened, and he joined Sun. Together they flanked the door, each with their weapons drawn. He wrinkled his nose at the horrible stench of urine and bodily waste. It was as if the place had been used as an outhouse of sorts.
Giving Sun a nod, he went first. He swept his gaze over the interior of the building. He took note of the mattress on the floor in the corner and a small chair and table. There was a bucket lying on its side and excrement all over the floor.
He heard the foghorn in the distance and knew in that moment Bryn had been here. His daughter had slept on the dirty mattress, had been tied to the chair. Likely forced to use the bucket as a toilet.
But not anymore. The warehouse known as Liberty Bell was empty.
Chapter Fifteen
September 10 – 11:55 a.m. – Baltimore, MD
Bryn ducked her head and squinted against the harsh daylight, gagging at the awful stench of human waste that clung to her.
Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up!
After being indoors for days, the bright sunlight beating down on them made her eyes hurt. She stumbled and would have fallen if not for Meira. Her caretaker kept a strong arm around Bryn’s waist, anchoring her close as they followed the man who’d come to rescue them.
Secretly, she’d been disappointed their rescuer wasn’t the man they claimed was her father or her mother. But just being away from the icky smelly men was enough to carry her forward. Especially since getting away from the man at the warehouse had been a minor miracle in itself.
Bryn had thrown the gross contents of the bucket in the man’s face while Meira stabbed him in the neck with the spoon honed into a knife. When the man had screamed, swiping at his eyes and blood spurting from the knife wound, she and Meira had darted outside toward freedom only to be met by an Arab man whom Meira knew.
“Elam!” Meira had thrown herself into the man’s arms. Bryn realized the man must be the husband she’d mentioned. He’d held her close for only a second.
“We need to go, now. Hurry!” Elam had led the way, leaving her and Meira to follow. He seemed to know where he was going, taking turns as if he’d been there before.
And maybe he had. Bryn tried to understand what had happened. It couldn’t be a coincidence that this guy had shown up outside their warehouse just as she and Meira had made a run for it.
The moment they’d heard the explosion, they’d known their guar
d would come inside. That there had only been one man on guard outside was a miracle.
Elam took them down yet another street. There were a couple of rough-looking men hanging out at the corner of a building, eyeing them suspiciously.
“Meira, we need money,” Bryn whispered, instinctively moving closer to the woman. “To get on a subway or get a taxi to get far away from here.”
Meira didn’t answer right away. They’d gone another block, taking yet another alley before she said, “Elam will take care of us.”
Bryn battled a wave of frustration. “We’re not helpless, Meira. We escaped, remember?”
Meira nodded slowly. “Yes, but Elam knows best.”
Bryn’s hopes sank to the pit of her stomach. She knew that Muslim women often deferred to their husbands, even when those same men treated their wives terribly. After all, wasn’t that what she and her mother had been working on over the past few years? They were one step in a process that was designed to help Muslim women escape the clutches of their terribly abusive spouses.
She tried to take heart in the fact that Meira was pregnant. Men often wanted a son to carry on their legacy, girls apparently didn’t mean anything to them, but a son was like a king. Maybe Elam would treat Meira okay until she gave birth.
But where did that leave her? Bryn wanted her mom.
She wanted desperately to go home.
But first, they needed to get far enough away from the icky men so they wouldn’t be found and dragged back.
The mere thought made her stomach clench with terror. Instinctively, she ducked her head and avoided eye contact with anyone nearby. She picked up her pace, determined not to be left behind.
Please, God, help us find safety!
* * *
September 10 – 12:03 p.m. – Baltimore, MD
“Gone? What do you mean, gone?” Diana couldn’t believe the warehouse was empty. To be this close yet not have her daughter was a significant blow.
“The warehouse is empty,” Jordan repeated. “Let’s get back to the car.”