by Lisa Harris
They rounded a corner, Rachel still struggling to get her footing. Tires screeched, and a gruff voice ordered, “Get in.”
The man holding her captive slid back the van’s door and shoved her inside. He jumped in after her and slammed the door before she could scramble out.
He caught her arm then hurled her against the solid wall panels. “Settle down, or this could get worse.” He raised his gun and pointed it at her head. “Where’s the virus?” His perfect English had the southern twang she recognized from the night she’d listened to him talk on his phone while she and Aiden hid in an alcove of Gaumond Labs. She was pretty sure the face glowering at her now belonged to the same guy she’d seen threatening Dr. Moreno on the lab’s security video.
Fear, heavy as a jungle cat, pounced on her. If this man had caused the blood in her boss’s office, and if he’d been the one to pull the trigger on Iceman, he’d have no qualms about hurting her.
“I don’t know,” she whispered. Which was true.
She had no idea how to get back to Charlie’s apartment on her own, and even if she did, she hoped Charlie would have figured out by now that something was wrong and disappeared. They’d agreed that he would take the cloned virus and his early vaccine trials to Aiden’s father if they didn’t come back by a certain time. Without her phone, she could only guess about how much time she and Aiden had lost running from these guys and their guns.
Where was Aiden? Had he seen what happened to her? Had they gotten him too? Rachel tried to choke back the panic rising in her throat. Her screams would never be heard over the roar of the van’s motor.
“Check her for a phone,” the driver ordered over his shoulder.
“I lost it.” Rachel said, pushing her back against the panel in an effort to put as much distance as she could between her and these horrible men. “You owe me a new one, by the way.”
“Shut up.” The man raised the gun as if he intended to hit her. “You’ll wish you’d helped us.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” she offered in hopes of finding out who these men were and why they were after the virus. “Explain it to me.”
“You’ll help.” The man with the gun pulled out his phone and snapped her picture. “Or your brother and his family will suffer.” He stuffed his phone back into his pocket then told the driver to return to base and dump the van.
Not Josiah. She didn’t dare speak his name, although they probably already knew it and where to find him. Keeping them safe was on her.
Rachel moved her head slowly, hoping for a better view out the windshield. She needed to keep track of where she was so that if she got a chance to get away, she wouldn’t waste time wandering around aimlessly. She tried to spot some landmarks as they flew down the narrow streets, but each tall apartment building and sidewalk market booth they passed looked just like the last.
The van made a sharp right then an abrupt stop that sent Rachel into a face-first sprawl. Her abductor grabbed her arm, yanked her to her feet, then jammed the gun barrel into her side. “If you try to run, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
He jumped from the van then reached in and pulled her out onto a street teeming with shops, vendors, and pedestrians. Gun poking hard against her heaving ribs, he led her toward a man selling candy. The dark-haired vendor, dressed in the little red hat and black coat of an old-time organ grinder, was making Turkish taffy in a round metal tray separated into different compartments. Rachel could smell the ground fruit flavored with mint, hibiscus, cinnamon, and cloves. The vendor saw them and immediately began to stir the sticky substances kept warm by a small flame beneath the tray. He quickly spun the hot silky taffy around a stick, gave it a squeeze of lemon, and offered it for sale.
Someone on a motorbike honked then zipped around when they didn’t get out of the street. The man with the gun in Rachel’s side pushed her past the vendor with a grunt. He shoved her through the outer door to the apartment building then up a flight of stairs and down a long hall. They stopped outside a door numbered 202.
He fished a key from his pocket. “Unlock it.”
“Why are we here?”
“Better hope someone cares enough about you to be asking the same thing, beautiful.”
Hands shaking, Rachel managed to comply. He reached around her, turned the knob, and shoved her inside. The space was dark and smelled of stale cigarette smoke and moldy carpet. He flipped on the light, a single bulb that hung in the middle of a room furnished with a table and two chairs and nothing else. He dragged her to the table and plopped her down in one of the chairs. Before she could ask more questions, he took zip ties from his pocket, wrapped her arms around the back of the chair, and tied her wrists.
“I need to use the restroom,” she finally managed.
“Not until we get some answers.”
Rachel clamped her lips. She was not giving up Charlie’s location, and she sure wasn’t giving up the virus.
She heard heavy footsteps on the stairs and soon learned they belonged to the driver. Both men stood over her, but only the one who’d grabbed her spoke. “I’ll ask you one more time, where’s the virus?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He smiled then slowly reached inside his jacket and pulled out a torn piece of paper. “Maybe this will jog your memory.” The photograph he showed her was the one someone had taken from her apartment. Josiah, Camilla, and little Emma. “Tell us where you left the virus, or I make a call and someone in California will pay a little visit to your brother and his pretty little family.”
Rachel’s stomach leapt to her throat, but she kept her face poker straight, a technique she’d perfected from years of trying not to laugh at her brother’s jokes. “I’m not saying anything until you let me use the restroom.”
The silent one nodded to the man who’d taken a great deal of pleasure in tying her up. He slid his gun into his belt then pulled a knife from his pocket and opened the blade. With a sigh, he slit the plastic tie on her wrists. “Try anything, and I’ll shoot you.”
Rachel lifted her chin and walked to the tiny bathroom. She ignored the men’s glares and closed the door. She leaned against the sink and tried to think what to do. On the other side of the door she could hear the men talking about how they hoped nabbing a hostage to use as leverage would make up for having to eliminate Iceman.
“Boss don’t like when we don’t follow orders,” the man with the southern accent said.
Something fluttered in Rachel’s peripheral vision. She turned toward the small window where a pigeon had landed. She stood on the stool and peered through the grimy glass. It was at least a ten-foot drop to the sidewalk below. The fall could break her leg. But from the snatches of conversation, worse would happen to her if she stayed here. Coughing as loud as she could to cover her moves, she checked to see if the window would open.
Thank the Lord, it did.
She flushed the toilet, screwed open both sink taps until they ran loud and hard, then shoved the window as wide as it would go. Palming the ledge, she heaved herself up and wiggled until she was out on a narrow ledge. She grabbed hold of a piece of guttering, prayed it would hold, then eased her feet over the edge. Dangling several feet above the ground, she considered the foolishness of this plan.
A head of dark hair thrust through the window above her. “I’ll kill you.”
Without hesitation, she dropped. Her foot struck the tray of hot candy and sent it rolling down the street. The vendor took off after it as she hit the sidewalk with a jarring thud. Scrambling to her feet, she started running down the crowded street, thankful she hadn’t sprained anything. Where she went, didn’t matter at this point. She’d get as far from here as possible, then ask someone for directions to the hotel, praying Aiden would be there waiting for her when she arrived.
She glanced behind her one last time and felt her breath catch as her captor stepped out onto the sidewalk and started running toward her.
Chapter Seven
teen
Aiden dropped into the red plush chair in the hotel lobby and stared at the blurry photo of Rachel on his phone. Panic slammed through him. He could see the terror and confusion in her eyes as she stared into the camera.
your girlfriend for the virus.
kadikoy market.
30 minutes.
will call with further instructions.
He grabbed his backpack and strode out of the hotel lobby, mind racing, as he tried to figure out how this had happened. His phone had gone off as they’d gotten off the bus, and he’d reached for it, thinking it was Charlie. One minute she’d been beside him, and then the next minute she’d been swallowed by the crowd. He’d tried to convince himself they’d just gotten separated. That there was nothing sinister about her disappearance. He’d walked up and down the street, glancing into shops, searching for her until he made it to the lobby of the hotel where he’d told her to meet him if they did get separated. But she hadn’t been in any of the shops he’d scoured, and she wasn’t answering her phone.
Now he knew why. The men who’d been chasing them had her and wanted to make a trade.
His heart pulsed in his throat. Iceman was dead. He couldn’t get ahold of Charlie. And now Rachel was missing. He hadn’t been able to protect anyone. A wet wind whipped around him as he headed toward the nearest bus stop. He’d already left a cryptic message for Charlie. Aiden had his own and Rachel’s passports with him, but he wasn’t going to leave the country without her or Charlie and the virus.
He pulled out his metro card as he boarded the bus then quickly found himself a seat, senses alert as he studied the passengers. No one seemed to be paying him any attention. He glanced out the window as the bus started moving. Rachel had talked to him about faith. How her father had died for his. How much faith did it take to turn a bad situation around? He’d spent his life trusting in his own might. What if stepping up his game wasn’t going to be enough this time?
What if he couldn’t stop those behind the evil?
What if he couldn’t stop all of this from happening?
Because this situation seems impossible, God.
He got off the bus at the market, still battling the doubts. Rachel would love this neighborhood. The narrow pedestrian streets filled with coffee shops and restaurants. Rows of open stalls selling olives, spices, cheeses, fruits and vegetables, seafood, and jars and jars of pickled vegetables. It was a foodie paradise. Something he’d love to share with her.
He checked his phone, making sure he hadn’t missed any calls. Thirty-six minutes had passed since he’d received the message.
Why hadn’t they contacted him?
He shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking down one of the streets, searching for any sign of Rachel. Would they bring her out into the open, crowded market? More than likely whoever had grabbed Rachel wasn’t going to bring her here. But then, where was she? A shiver slid up his spine as he glanced behind him. Were they watching him? Making sure he hadn’t gone against their instructions and called the authorities? Or had something happened to her?
His gut churned as he breathed in the smell of fresh shellfish on ice. A black and white cat, searching for scraps, scurried past him. He checked his phone again. Another ten minutes had passed. Guilt pressed through him as he scanned the crowd. This wasn’t something he could handle on his own. None of this was. He pulled out his phone again and dialed the familiar number.
“Dad?”
“Aiden. . .Where are you?”
“They have Rachel. They want to make an exchange—”
“Slow down and tell me what’s going on.”
“Whoever’s after the virus. . .they found us.” Aiden ducked beneath an awning and out of the rain that was starting to come down harder. “We met Iceman at the Grand Bazaar this morning, but he’s dead, Dad.”
“Dead? What happened?”
“He sold us out. We need to know who hired him.”
“I got the messages you sent, and I’m working with someone, but it’s going to take time to track who’s behind all of this.”
“And the security footage? Have you ID’d anyone yet?”
“Not yet. But I’m working with Moreno, and we’ve brought in Ellis Carter—”
“Wait a minute. We thought Moreno was dead. There was blood in his office and we saw a body on the news.”
“That was one of the security guards. Moreno got roughed up, but he’s okay.”
“And you think we can trust Carter?” Aiden tried to downplay the panic in his voice, but knew he wasn’t succeeding.
“I realize we don’t have a lot of options, but we can’t just sit on that virus indefinitely. Once the CDC and WHO get wind of what’s happening in Tibet, we’re going to have to have a pretty solid explanation in place.”
“What am I supposed to do in the meantime? I can’t make the trade, but I can’t let anything happen to Rachel either.” Someone bumped into him, and he felt his heart race. He turned and searched the crowd behind him. It was just a kid running to his mom. He needed to calm down. Panicking wasn’t going to help him find her. It was only going to cloud his judgment.
“Where’s Charlie?” his dad asked.
“I haven’t been able to contact him, and I’m worried. If they can send me texts, I’m afraid they can find Charlie. Maybe they already have.”
“What did they tell you?”
“To meet them at the Kadakoy market for further instructions, but it’s been almost an hour and I haven’t heard from them.”
“I’m not sure what I can do from here.”
“I know.” Aiden rubbed the back of his neck, willing the tension to go away. “I never should have left DC.”
“You did the only thing you could have at the moment. More than likely that virus would be well beyond our reach if you hadn’t moved as fast as you did.”
“Maybe, but people are dead, with the potential of things getting worse. I’m running out of options.”
“I have a connection I can call. See if we can get you some help in finding her. And Aiden, I understand why you left DC, but there are some who are going to question your choice of collaborators.”
“Like who?”
“I’m just. . .I’m worried you’re being played.”
Aiden’s jaw tensed. “By Rachel?”
“I’ll be honest, Son, the thought crossed my mind.”
“Rachel isn’t behind this. Trust me.”
“Then how did they find you on the island?”
“I don’t know, but whoever’s behind this has to be well funded.”
“True, but how well do you know her? Really know her?”
“Dad—”
“Just be careful. And don’t let your emotions blind you into not seeing what’s really going on.”
Aiden’s phone beeped and he glanced at the screen. “Dad, let me get back to you. I’ve got another call coming through.”
He accepted the call.
“Aiden?”
“Rachel?” His heart froze in his chest as he looked around. “Rachel, are you okay?”
“I managed to get away from them, but they followed me. I think I lost them, but I’m not sure.”
“I got a message from them. They’re trying to make an exchange for the virus.”
“I know.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m. . .I’m at the Volley Hotel. The guy at the front desk let me use his phone to call you.”
“Are you safe?”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be safe again, Aiden. I’m scared. These guys—whoever they are—they know where my brother lives.”
He knew what she was thinking. Shepherd and Iceman were dead. If they weren’t careful, they were going to be next.
“I want you to stay where you are. Get out of sight. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He stepped back out into the rain. He couldn’t dismiss the possibility this was some kind of trap. But neither was he surprised she
’d managed to escape. He’d seen her resilience and willingness to do what was hard. This time, he flagged down a yellow taxicab. He should call and get the police involved, but there was no time to explain the situation. He’d tried so hard to keep Rachel and Charlie safe. He couldn’t give up now.
Fifteen minutes later, the taxi pulled up in front of the hotel. Aiden started to slip the man the fare amount with a tip, when something caught his attention. A couple was heading for another taxi.
Rachel.
“Pull in next to the front of that car,” Aiden ordered, “then wait for me.”
“I can’t—”
He squeezed the man’s shoulder. “I’ll make it worth your wait.”
There was no time to make a plan. Aiden jumped out of the car and ran toward the other taxi. He skidded across the hood of the vehicle then came down hard on the man’s side, tackling him to the ground. The gun the man was holding clattered on the cobblestones as Aiden fought to pin him to the ground.
“Grab it, Rachel.”
Rachel picked up the gun and pointed it at the man. “Don’t move.”
Aiden stood and pressed his foot against the man’s back. “I’d do what she said if I were you.”
Aiden glanced at the growing crowd around them. He shouted at the valet to make sure the man didn’t move until the police arrived and motioned for Rachel to give him the weapon.
He grabbed her hand. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
Aiden pulled her toward the taxi, got them inside, and shouted at the driver, “Go. . .go. . .go.”
Their driver pulled into traffic. “Where do you want me to go?”
“Just drive.” Aiden pulled her into his arms “Are you okay?”
“I’ve had better days.” She leaned against him, her body shaking.
He needed to plan their next step, but she was safe and alive. That was all he could think about for the moment. “I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at her. “Sorry I dragged you into this. Sorry I lost you.”
“Stop.” She put a finger to his lips. “Coming with you was my decision.”
“I’d say it was mainly because you didn’t want to stay with my mom.”