Target For Ransom

by Laura Scott

  “No, wait. I don’t understand.” Diana knew her emotions were getting the best of her, but she couldn’t help it. “I need to know what happened. The allotted thirty minutes the kidnappers gave us as a timeframe to talk to Bryn hasn’t passed yet. Do you think we missed them? Did the kidnappers move her?”

  “I think she escaped.” There was a note of pride in Jordan’s tone, which only made her want to smack him. “I think the explosion caused the guard to go inside, where Bryn threw the bucket of waste on him and escaped. The place is a mess.”

  Diana abruptly stopped in her tracks. “If that’s the case, we need to spread out and search for her. She has no money, no ID. Where will she go? What will she do?”

  “Diana, please. We can talk when we get to the car.” Jordan swept his glance over the area. “I don’t want to be here when the kidnappers find out she’s gone.”

  “But if she’s hiding somewhere nearby . . .”

  “Bryn is smarter than that. She’ll have gotten as far away from this place as possible.” Jordan tugged on her arm. “We need to go.”

  She reluctantly nodded. As much as she didn’t want to leave, she knew Jordan was right. If Bryn had thrown the bucket of waste on her kidnapper and found a way to escape, she wouldn’t stay close. She’d run and fight, run and fight.

  The way Diana had taught her.

  The shriek of sirens could still be heard heading toward the scene of the explosion, but she ignored them.

  Bryn could be out here, somewhere. Without any money and no way to get to a phone to call for help.

  Would she find a police station? Maybe. The thought gave her hope that her daughter would be safe in police custody.

  Jordan opened the car door for her. Preoccupied with her thoughts, she slid into the passenger seat. Sun resumed her seat in the back as Jordan took the driver’s seat.

  “Okay, new plan,” Diana said. “We need to find the closest police station because that is where Bryn will likely go. We need to let the police know she’s alone and on the run from men who intend to harm her.”

  “She may not be alone,” Sun said.

  Diana twisted in her seat to face her. “What do you mean?”

  “Sun’s right, Diana. Think about it for a moment. Do you really think Muslim males would lower themselves to caring for an eleven-year-old girl? Feed her and help her to the bathroom?”

  Diana thought about her late uncle Omar and his son Tariq. “No.”

  “Exactly. She’s not alone, she has help.” Jordan reached over to rest his hand on her knee. “In fact, if you ask me, the timing of that explosion was a bit of a coincidence.”

  “Yes,” Sun agreed. “Just like the explosion when we were at that first warehouse, American Lumber. Remember? Something triggered the explosion, but there were not many people nearby. We were far enough away that we weren’t seriously hurt. I believe the explosion was a diversion used to help free Bryn and whoever was inside with her.”

  Her chest tightened with tension. “But . . . she’ll still go to the police, right? Bryn knows enough to get help from the authorities.”

  “Maybe.” Jordan didn’t sound convinced. He started the car and pulled away from the curb, melting into the traffic streaming away from the harbor.

  “According to the media,” Sun said, “the explosion occurred in a parking structure located at Federal Hill Park.”

  “Interesting. A bomb placed in a structure would cause a lot of property damage but may avoid human casualties.” Jordan glanced at her. “A diversion for sure. Otherwise the bomb would have been planted near a location where people hung out, like within the park itself, for maximum impact.”

  Again, she hated to admit Jordan was right. Knowing her cousin’s extremist beliefs, if he’d planned something like this, he would have absolutely found a way to impact a large number of innocent victims.

  Bryn wasn’t alone, she’d had help to escape. Diana tried to relax in her seat, to be thankful for the news, but it wasn’t easy.

  Before, they had clues to follow, information that led them to different warehouses as potential locations where they might find Bryn.

  Now, they had nothing.

  * * *

  September 10 – 12:15 p.m. – Washington, DC

  “I need a status report.” After finally getting out of Dulles airport, he was on his way to a local hotel. He’d called his first-in-command, but the man hadn’t answered.

  Nor had the second.

  The fact that he was on his third-in-command was not a good sign.

  “Well?” he snapped impatiently. “You still have the girl, right?”

  “Yes, we have her in a secure location, but there have been a few unanticipated . . . complications.”

  He tightened his grip on the phone. What did he pay them for anyway? “What kind of complications? With Mustaf? Or something else?”

  “Someone else is pulling the strings on Mustaf,” his third-in-command said slowly. “The good news is that it appears we both want the same objective and that is for Mustaf to be freed from captivity.”

  It wasn’t a good thing to have interference, especially since there was no way of knowing for sure what the objective was. “Who?”

  “We’re not sure. But we think Rashid is working with them.”

  “You think?” he echoed in a dangerously soft voice. “Or you know?”

  There was a long silence before his third-in-command admitted, “We strongly believe Rashid is working with them.”

  Strongly believe wasn’t good enough. He reined in his temper with an effort, not wanting the rideshare driver to have a reason to remember him. “I want to know who is behind the interference and why. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I understand. I will get on that immediately,” his third-in-command quickly agreed.

  He disconnected from the call before he could say something he’d regret and stared out at the annoying traffic.

  He detested being here in the United States, especially being stuck in Washington, DC. There wasn’t much time. His men, whom he paid well, needed to deliver. Soon.

  The nagging questions remained. Who had escalated the timeline to free Ahmed Mustaf, and why?

  To what end?

  Everything he had planned would fall apart if he didn’t get the answers he needed.

  And failure was not an option.

  * * *

  September 10 – 12:19 p.m. – Washington, DC

  The news of a parking structure explosion in Baltimore rippled through the FBI offices faster than the speed of light. He happened to be seated in the conference room with two colleagues and mentally braced himself for the impending wrath of their boss.

  The door to the conference room was flung open, slamming hard against the wall. “Can anyone in this office explain to me what in the world is going on?” Yates thundered.

  He didn’t have to pretend to be confused as he had no clue what had happened in Baltimore. “I haven’t heard anything, what do we know so far? What was the cause of the explosion?”

  “A bomb.” Sarcasm dripped from Yates’s tone.

  He squelched the urge to snap back. “I thought it may have been a natural gas leak or a car failure. A bomb is bad news.” He paused, then asked, “Have any of the known terrorist groups taken credit for it yet? Seems like something they’d do, especially considering the timing.”

  “No. Do you know something I don’t?” his boss countered.

  “Just trying to cover all the bases.” He glanced at his colleagues. “You guys have any ideas on this?”

  The two men shook their heads.

  “This is the second bomb that’s been detonated in Baltimore in two days. I want answers, and I want them now!” Yates’s face was so red he feared the guy would blow a carotid.

  Which wouldn’t be a bad thing. In fact, he nearly smiled thinking about Yates falling flat on his face from a sudden heart attack.

  “I’m hearing there aren’t many casualties,” one of his
colleagues said. “That’s good news.”

  “Nothing about this is good news, do you understand me? Nothing! Get me answers or get out of my sight.” Yates stormed out, slamming the door shut behind him.

  There was a long tense silence in the conference room after their boss left. “Now what?” he asked. “We need something to go on to make him happy.”

  “I’ve got a source within the Baltimore PD. I’ll see what I can get from him.” One of his colleagues rose to his feet and moved away, holding his phone to his ear.

  “I’ll check the chatter from overseas, see if there’s any specific group trying to take credit for this.” His other colleague also left the room.

  He sat for a moment, trying to understand why things seemed to be falling apart. First, Aaron Cooper’s death being ruled a homicide so quickly thanks to some astute detective wannabe cop who’d snagged the coffee cup as evidence and found the contents laced with cyanide, now this. He didn’t have any intel on this recent detonation. Which meant his people weren’t involved.

  Unless they’d gone rogue? Decided on their own to deviate from the plan?

  No, he didn’t think so. Fanatics like the people he dealt with were all about planning for the maximum impact. One measly bomb going off in the warehouse district of Baltimore didn’t come close to meeting their objective.

  There was something else going on here. Something else interfering with his plans.

  He desperately needed to know who exactly had set off the bomb. And why?

  * * *

  September 10 – 12:38 p.m. – Baltimore, MD

  “Where are we going?” Bryn tugged on Meira’s hand, needing to slow down as she was growing weary. Her strength and excitement at being free of the icky men had slowly vanished, leaving a sick sense of panic and worry behind.

  She wanted her mom and had no idea how to find her.

  “Elam will take care of us,” Meira repeated for what seemed like the tenth time. Bryn was irritated by the woman’s passive attitude.

  “We helped get away, Meira,” she said sharply. “That means we get to be included in the decision of where we should go next.”

  Elam paused and turned to look at her. She tensed, but he didn’t rake his gaze over her with the evil eyes that the icky men had used every time they came near. “Do you know your way around the city of Baltimore?”

  Baltimore? Was that where they were? Bryn thought back to her school lessons and tried to picture where they were. Somewhere near the water yet not too far from Washington, DC. She swallowed hard. “No.”

  “Then be silent.” His tone was mild, but his words cut to the bone.

  “I will not be quiet.” Bryn glanced frantically around, trying to figure out if she needed to escape once again. But where would she go? What would she do? She had no money, nothing with her but the clothes she was wearing, which reeked of sweat, pee, and poop. “I have a right to know where you’re taking me.”

  “Hush, child,” Meira murmured. She still wore the burka, but no one stared at them because of it. Bryn almost wished they would. “We are safe. Elam will not allow any harm to come to you.”

  Elam didn’t respond, which wasn’t the least bit reassuring. She stumbled again, about to ask for a break, when she saw a sign for the subway.

  A mix of emotions hit hard. She dug in her heels, holding them back. “Wait, are we taking the subway? Where?” As much as Bryn wanted to be far away from the place where the icky men had kept her, she couldn’t be sure getting on a subway with Elam and Meira—to go who knows where—was the right thing to do.

  “Don’t delay, little one. We need to be far away before the others come looking for us,” Meira said softly.

  Bryn tensed and instinctively glanced apprehensively over her shoulder. They hadn’t known how many men were guarding them, and it turned out to be just one. Maybe there weren’t as many of the others as they’d assumed.

  But being found by even one of the icky men wasn’t high on her list of things she wanted to do.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she pushed onward, forcing herself to keep pace with Meira and Elam. The heat from the sun was giving her a headache, and her mouth felt incredibly dry. Going down the escalator to the dark and cool subway station was a welcome reprieve.

  “Can we get something to eat and drink?” She collapsed on a bench as Elam went to purchase their tickets.

  Meira sat next to her without answering. When Elam returned, they spoke briefly in Arabic. Elam nodded and went over to purchase bottles of water.

  “We will get food later,” Meira said. “Elam doesn’t want to waste all of his money.”

  Bryn didn’t think eating was a waste of money, but drinking the ice-cold water helped make her feel better. She pressed the bottle against her temple and closed her eyes.

  Being inactive for these past few days had made her a wuss. She couldn’t believe how weak she was. She needed to be strong to find her mother.

  She finished her water and tossed the bottle in the recycle bin. Then she sat back down to rest. When the train arrived, Meira tugged on her arm. Bryn blinked and stood. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a cop with a beautiful German shepherd K-9 on a leash.

  The police! Her pulse soared. Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of that sooner? The police would help her find her mom! She took a step toward the cop, but he was already walking away, the dog sniffing at people’s bags as they went by.

  “Come,” Meira said, grabbing her arm to prevent her from straying farther away. “The train is here.”

  “But, the police.” Bryn was torn, should she leave Meira and Elam and go to the cops? Or should she stay with them?

  “Were you serious about helping us escape?” Meira asked. “There are those that will kill and torture us for what we have done today.”

  Bryn turned toward her. She remembered how she’d convinced Meira that her mom knew how to help women escape. But that was normally from their abusive families, not a husband and wife together escaping icky men.

  Meira put a hand on her abdomen. “Please?”

  Bryn glanced back toward the cop. He was so far ahead now she’d never catch up. Was what Meira wanted so different from the others? No. The woman wanted nothing more than to raise her baby in a safe environment.

  Bryn turned and joined Meira and Elam as they boarded the subway. “Yes, I’ll help you escape. But we need money, and a phone. I need to call my mom . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “Thank you.” Meira smiled wearily. “Elam can get us money and a phone.”

  The subway doors closed, and the train began to move. Bryn stared blindly at the people standing and sitting around them.

  Had she made the right decision to stay with them? She honestly didn’t know.

  Chapter Sixteen

  September 10 – 12:52 p.m. – Baltimore, MD

  “The kidnappers missed their deadline,” Sun said from the back seat.

  Jordan glanced back at her and nodded. “Because Bryn escaped. Although I’m sure we’ll hear from them soon enough. They’ll do their best to find a way to pretend they still have her.”

  “Yes,” Sun agreed. “And we’ll need to play along.”

  “Why?” Diana turned to look at him. “What do we care?”

  Jordan reached up to rub the back of his neck. He was driving through Baltimore without a firm destination in mind. He was loath to leave the city knowing Bryn was likely still here. He saw a sign for a motel and decided it was as good of a place as any to form a plan to find Bryn.

  “Jordan?” Diana prodded when he didn’t answer.

  “We need to think this through,” he said slowly. “I was asked by Clarence Yates, the Director of the FBI, to infiltrate a known terrorist cell here in DC. That mission had barely begun when I learned of Bryn’s kidnapping.” He risked a glance at Diana. “I’ve been worried my case is what caused Bryn to be taken, but things didn’t play out the way they were supposed to. I’m honestly not sure if the c
ell I was to infiltrate is the same one who had Bryn or if there are two different factions at play.”

  “Two?” Diana frowned. “Okay, so there might be two groups involved. Why does playing along about Bryn help us?”

  “I’d rather not tip our hand, at least not yet.” He focused his attention on the road, following the signs to the motel. “We need some time to figure out our next steps.”

  “We can’t forget about Mustaf,” Sun reminded him. “He’s key to the plan. At the very least, we need to assure the kidnappers there’s a plan in place to free him.”

  “Yeah.” Jordan fell silent, his thoughts whirling. “But everything that has happened to free Mustaf hasn’t been from anything I’ve done. What does that mean? Who is doing the work for me, and why? It just doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I know.” Diana stared out the window for several long moments before she said, “Unless Tariq is involved.”

  “Yes, I’ve thought he might be. But we don’t know how or where to find him.” He pulled into the motel parking lot. “I doubt he’s using his real name.”

  Diana let out a harsh laugh. “No, he can’t use his name here in the States. After the way you took out Omar twelve years ago and he retaliated by trying to blow us up, he’s on the list of known terrorists.”

  The memories of the night he’d thought Diana had betrayed him were not happy ones. Jordan stared at the motel, then pushed open his car door. But that had been a long time ago. “Let’s get a room and come up with a strategy to find Bryn.”

  “Wait.” Diana reached out to grasp his arm, preventing him from getting out of the car. “My phone.”

  It wasn’t difficult to follow her train of thought. “You think Bryn will try to call you on your phone, but we got rid of it when we were followed.”

  Her grip tightened. “We need to get a replacement, right away. Bryn could be trying to call me right now! I’m forced to change numbers every six months, so Bryn has the most recent one memorized.”

  “Okay.” He glanced back at Sun. “How much cash do you have?”