Target For Ransom

by Laura Scott

  Elam, Meira, Diana, and Bryn were all crammed into the back seat. Elam and Meira were unusually quiet. He knew he’d been rude to Elam yet again but ignored the flash of guilt.

  They needed to find these bombs Elam had created and get rid of them as soon as possible. If that meant being rude, then so be it.

  He pulled his phone out and stared at the blank screen with a sense of frustration.

  Come on, Yates, call me back!

  As if reading his mind, Diana leaned forward. “How are we going to get inside if we don’t hear from Yates?”

  “We’ll find a way.” He wasn’t about to let a locked park prevent him from getting inside. Abruptly, he straightened and glanced at her. “What time do you think the employees arrive?”

  Diana lifted a brow. “I have no idea, but I would imagine at least a half hour before it’s time to open. I assume they have to set up stuff, like in the food areas, so they’re ready to go.”

  “Yeah, maybe even an hour or two before, depending on what they’re doing. There might be groundskeepers there by now. If so, we can convince them to let us in.”

  “Let’s just hope one of the groundskeepers, or any of the employees for that matter, doesn’t have the trigger.”

  Dread congealed in his chest at the thought. She was right. The person with the trigger could be a groundskeeper, an employee, or a guest.

  It could be anyone.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  September 11 – 7:53 a.m. – Washington, DC

  Yates left his meeting with the president feeling lower than a worm, as if he’d let the man and their entire country down.

  He had missed several calls and had a couple of messages on both his personal cell and his work phone, but before he could begin returning them, his work phone rang once again. A glance at the screen confirmed the call was his contact within the police department. He desperately needed to get back to the task force but answered as he walked. “Yates.”

  “Richmond cops picked up a pregnant woman at the side of the interstate,” his contact said. “She claims she was kidnapped just outside of DC and forced into the back of an ambulance.”

  Finally, a badly needed break! “She able to provide a description of the men who kidnapped her?”

  “No, says she couldn’t see their faces.” The guy hesitated, then added, “I’m not sure that’s entirely true though. She’s a mess. States they have her driver’s license and threatened to come back and kill her, the baby in her belly, and her husband. She’s been crying uncontrollably through most of the interview.”

  “Get a cop stationed outside her house, just in case. And keep working with her on those descriptions. Nothing would make me happier than to get the men responsible for getting Mustaf out of the city.”

  “Done. Anything else?”

  “No, I’ll take it from here. Good work, thanks.” Yates disconnected, then called his Virginia field office. “Ahmed Mustaf is in the Richmond area, likely already in the airport. Shut down all flights and have every available person scouting the place for him. He’s likely with one man at a minimum, maybe two.”

  “We have his photo up on all TSA stations,” Special Agent in Charge Dirksmeyer said. “And they’re all on high alert. So far, no sightings have been reported.”

  “Then you’re missing something because we know for sure Mustaf is in Richmond.” At least, Mustaf had once been in Richmond. That didn’t mean the ambulance hadn’t taken him elsewhere. But Yates didn’t think so. They would want to get him in the air and out of the area as soon as possible. He thought fast. “What about private chartered flights? Have you checked all of those as well?”

  “We’ve put the entire airport on alert, but I’ll make certain no private charter flights leave until further notice. I’ll call you back if I find something.”

  “You do that.” Yates disconnected from the call, thinking there was still a chance to apprehend Mustaf. A slim chance if the guy hadn’t already managed to escape on some small charter flight out of Virginia, but still a chance.

  He needed every sliver of positive news he could get.

  * * *

  September 11 – 7:59 a.m. – Richmond, VA

  Mustaf was happy to be out of the ambulance, even if that meant being pushed in a wheelchair into the private charter hangar located across the street from the main airport hub. He’d been told that a private plane had been arranged for him. The man who took over for the fake paramedic had seemed irritated he had arrived so late.

  “Where have you been? We were due to take off an hour ago.”

  “Hey, we ran into problems. Here, take him. Not sure he was worth the effort.” Mustaf’s wheelchair was shoved forward with enough force to make his head snap.

  “Whatever.” The man took his wheelchair and pulled it forward. “We will be ready to take off in roughly twenty minutes per the flight deck, our destination is Chicago. There isn’t any time to waste.” He’d raked a gaze over Mustaf’s hunched figure slumped in the wheelchair. “Can you get inside on your own? You’re no lightweight, I’m not sure I can carry you up there without dropping you.”

  “Yes.” Drop him? He wanted to spit in this man’s face but managed to hang on to his temper. It was hardly his fault they were late, and again these people were being paid very well to help him. It was inconceivable they treated him with such disrespect.

  Biting back a groan, he stood and managed to take the few steps necessary to reach the bottom rung of the stairs leading up and into the private plane. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to climb. His vision blurred again, but he clung to the rail and pulled himself up each step until he’d reached the top. He sagged against the doorframe for a moment, then lurched inside, finding and dropping into the closest seat.

  He’d made it! The man who’d told him to get up and inside had followed behind him, closing and locking the door. Mustaf imagined the stair ramp being moved back and out of the way.

  He closed his eyes and listened to the brief conversation between the two men, before the pilot turned on the twin engines.

  The taste of freedom was sweet. Oh, so very sweet.

  * * *

  September 11 – 8:06 a.m. – Marlboro, MD

  Reining in his anger, he arrived at the amusement park as ordered. The parking lot was empty except for a few cars off to one side, which he assumed must be owned by park employees.

  He didn’t like being out in the open like this. For a moment he considered turning around and heading back to the airport, but without the money, what was the point? He needed the rest of the promised payment in order to disappear. As it was, his phone was buzzing constantly, indicating the rest of the task force members were indeed looking for him.

  After deciding to park next to the other employees, he pulled out his phone and sent off a quick text to his boss.

  Overslept, will be there shortly.

  It was a lame excuse and likely wouldn’t be believed, but he needed to try to buy some time. As soon as he put whatever this issue was to rest, he’d get to the airport. Maybe he should detour to the Baltimore airport. It might be closer, and he could still use his fake ID to get out on the first available flight to anywhere that wasn’t here.

  He slid out from behind the wheel and glanced around for his contact, a man he only knew as Amar.

  There was no one in the area. Where in the world was he?

  As if on cue, his phone buzzed. He answered it. “I’m here.”

  “I see. Come through the employee entrance, you will not need a key.”

  The call disconnected before he could say anything more. Cursing under his breath, he made his way toward a small doorway labeled employees only. As promised, the door was unlocked, so entering the park wasn’t difficult.

  Still, he didn’t see any sign of his contact.

  Then something hard crashed down on the back of his head, and he saw nothing at all as he crumpled to the ground.

  * * *

  September 11 – 8:
18 a.m. – Marlboro, MD

  “Yates still hasn’t called you back?” Sun asked as they climbed out of the vehicle.

  Jordan shook his head. “No, but let’s get inside the park and see if we even have the right place. If so, we’ll have more to tell him.”

  Diana stayed close to his side, as did Bryn. Jordan hated knowing they were here and in the middle of the danger but couldn’t deny he felt better having them close at hand.

  Look at what had happened the last time he’d left them alone? Tariq had found them and, if not for Sun’s martial arts expertise, would have killed them.

  No, better to have them close by. He could always get them out of here well before the ten o’clock hour.

  “There’s the employee entrance,” Sun said, gesturing to the left. “Let’s check it out.”

  “Okay. Elam? I’ll need you to get over to the carousel as soon as possible to verify if the flower design you created is a match.”

  “Yes. I would ask Diana to keep Meira safe as I do that.”

  “Not a problem,” Diana assured him. “Meira can stay with me and Bryn.”

  Jordan led the way across the asphalt parking lot to the employee entrance. He was surprised but glad to find the door unlocked. He paused for a moment, realizing he was bringing his family into a place that was very likely the source of many explosive devices. Glancing at his watch, he grimaced.

  They had to move fast.

  “Jordan?”

  He paused, glancing impatiently back at Sun. “What?”

  “Does this look like fresh blood?”

  He turned so fast he nearly smacked head-on into Diana. Easing her aside, he went over to where Sun was crouched down, staring at the ground.

  The dark splotches could have been anything, but then he noticed the bright crimson smear on the pad of Sun’s index finger.

  Definitely looked like blood. And whatever had happened here had been recent if the blood hadn’t dried yet.

  “What do you think happened?” Sun asked, looking up at him with concern.

  “I don’t know.” He swept his gaze around the area but didn’t see anyone lurking nearby. In fact, there was no sign of any employees who had shown up for work as indicated by the cars in the parking lot near the staff-only entrance.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Sun said in a low voice.

  He didn’t either. “Let’s just check the carousel and then get out of here. We still have time to reach Yates and to shut this place down.”

  Sun slowly rose. “Maybe we should just go ahead and shut them all down, even those without merry-go-rounds.”

  It was a valid point. Still, he felt certain they needed some kind of proof. Something to indicate this was actually the potential source of a terrorist attack.

  If they’d guessed wrong and the target was one or more of the monuments scattered around Washington, DC, one that had some sort of hidden flower design, the consequences would be dire. Innocent lives would be lost. He needed to be sure they were on the right track. Before they ran out of time.

  As they made their way across the park to the carousel, he noticed there were hundreds of places where the other bombs could be tucked away without being seen. Maybe if they got a bomb-sniffing K-9 in here, they could find them before the park opened.

  Why hadn’t Yates called him back?

  “Hey! You can’t be in here!” Jordan swung around to see a park security guard standing there with his hands on his hips, glaring at them. “The park doesn’t open until ten o’clock, and you can’t just waltz in without paying.”

  “I’m here on behalf of the FBI,” Jordan said, pasting a smile on his face. “We have permission to be here.”

  “FBI?” The security guard scoffed. “Yeah, right. As if the Feds would give you permission to come into the amusement park early.”

  From the corner of his eye, he noticed Elam edging away from the group. To give him time to slip away, he approached the security guard doing his best to distract the guy.

  “I’m not kidding about working with the FBI,” Jordan said, missing the credentials and badge that normally got him out of tight spots like this. “Here’s my phone, I have a direct line to Clarence Yates, the Director of the FBI. I’ll call him right now for you, okay?”

  “Give me a break. As if I’m going to listen to some guy pretending to be the director of the FBI.” The security guard was getting wound up now. “You all need to leave right this minute or I’m calling the police to have you arrested.”

  Jordan considered the fact that having the police here might not be such a bad thing. But before he could respond, Sun sneaked up behind the guy and used a trigger point hold that made the guy sink to his knees.

  “Sun,” he protested.

  “We need to hurry. Go on ahead, I’ll take care of him.”

  He hesitated, but Diana tugged on his arm. “Come on, let’s catch up to Elam.”

  Trusting Sun wouldn’t hurt the guard, he allowed Diana to pull him away. They quickened their pace, trying to find the carousel or Elam for that matter.

  “There it is,” Bryn said, waving to the right.

  Trust his daughter to find it. Breaking into a slow jog, he headed over, searching for Elam. He saw Elam up on the platform of the merry-go-round, his expression grim.

  When Jordan approached, Elam held something up in his hand. Jordan abruptly stopped as his brain registered the row of flowers design running along the bench seat of the carousel. It was the exact same pattern as what Elam had crudely drawn.

  “This is the correct place,” Elam said solemnly. “This is my work.”

  Overwhelmed with a mixture of relief and dread, Jordan grabbed his phone and called Yates for what seemed like the tenth time.

  The director had to answer, and soon.

  Before it was too late.

  * * *

  September 11 – 8:30 a.m. – Richmond, VA

  Mustaf opened his eyes, doing his best to focus on the interior of the plane. Why had they stopped moving? They should have been in the air ten minutes ago.

  What was going on?

  “The tower has shut down all flights,” the pilot said over the loudspeaker.

  What? Mustaf straightened in his seat, grimacing as a stab of pain slashed through his abdomen. “I don’t understand.”

  The guy who was acting as the cabin steward reached up to grab the radio. “What seems to be the problem?”

  “I’m not sure,” the pilot replied. “At first I was told there would be a slight delay, now they’re telling me all flights are to remain grounded.”

  No. This couldn’t be happening. “Just go,” Mustaf barked. “There is nothing they can do to stop us once we are in the air.”

  There was a long silence as neither the pilot nor the crew member spoke. Finally, the pilot said, “I’m not risking my pilot’s license for this guy.”

  “What are we going to do, then?” the crew member asked. “Just sit here and wait?”

  “Yes. Until I know what’s going on, that’s all I can do. All flights have been grounded, there’s no other option.”

  “Yes, there is another option. Fly the plane as you’ve been paid to do.” Mustaf worked hard to make his voice sound demanding.

  The crewman scowled at him. “Shut up, old man. We’ll go when we’re good and ready.”

  “I’ll double whatever you’ve been paid,” Mustaf said through gritted teeth. “I’m worth millions if you get me out of here.”

  More silence and he could tell the two infidels were considering his proposition. If they were smart, they’d take him up on it.

  Well, if they were really smart, they’d know he had no intention of paying them anything, much less double their original fee. Once he’d gotten where he needed to be, they could easily be disposed of.

  His only priority was getting out of Virginia, to Chicago, and ultimately to Syria.

  It didn’t matter how many lives were lost along the way.

&nb
sp; * * *

  September 11 – 8:32 a.m. – Marlboro, MD

  His head pounded painfully, but he forced himself to wake up and think past the horrific throbbing that mirrored the beat of his heart.

  Where was he?

  He tried to move his arms, but they were tied tightly behind his back. Darkness surrounded him, but there were a few slivers of light shining through what appeared to be cracks in the wall.

  He vaguely remembered coming into the amusement park to meet his contact when he was hit from behind. What was this all about? He’d held up his end of the bargain, hadn’t he? He’d removed every possible obstacle in order to get Mustaf out of federal custody.

  What more did they want from him?

  He was sitting next to something firm and hard. Maybe a post of some sort. He must be somewhere in the park but had no idea where.

  Straining at the binds, he tried to get his feet underneath him so he could stand. If he could find a way out of here, he could find an employee, maybe even someone from security to help free him.

  Other than a bird sitting near the pillar next to him, he was alone.

  Then he heard the sound of voices. Several voices. He stopped struggling against his binds and listened intently.

  Within seconds, he understood he was in more danger than he could have possibly imagined.

  * * *

  September 11 – 8:35 a.m. – Marlboro, MD

  “Put the phone down or I’ll trigger the bombs here and now.”

  A slender man stepped out from behind the carousel holding something in his hand. Jordan froze in the act of calling Yates a second time. He didn’t understand why the director wasn’t responding to his calls but suspected it wasn’t anything good.

  “Amar, I did not think I would see you again,” Elam said as he lightly jumped off the platform, still holding the explosive device in his hand. Jordan wanted to yell and scream at him to throw it as far as possible, but then it registered that Elam had called the man by name.

  He turned his attention to the slender man, shifting so that Diana and Bryn were somewhat sheltered behind him. The guy holding the trigger wore an employee uniform, exactly the way he’d feared. He found his voice. “Amar, you must know it’s over. The FBI is going to have this place crawling with cops at any moment. What good will come of detonating the bomb now? Your big bang and loss of young lives isn’t going to happen today.”