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The Line: The Complete Series

Page 47

by Nikki Rose


  “Emergency protocols cover natural disasters but they also cover terror attacks, state of emergency scenarios, etc. If they were planning something It would be like getting a peek at the opposing team’s playbook.”

  Tension filled the room. We couldn’t put the agency at risk, but Natalie was also in danger. We sat in silence for several minutes while I was sure each of us ran through a list of scenarios on how to get her back safe without putting the agency at risk.

  Chris finally broke the silence, “We need to contact the Director. He needs to be in the loop.”

  “We can’t meet at the agency. What if James isn’t the only one, they’re ransoming?”

  “I’ll get him to come here,” Chris stood and pulled his phone from his pocket.

  “Good thinking, but I can’t be anywhere in sight when he gets here.”

  “He knows you're innocent. We all do. We just aren’t sure how to prove it yet.” James assured me.

  “Even so. I don’t want to put anyone’s jobs in jeopardy.”

  “You can hide in the guest room upstairs.”

  “I can use the Bluetooth in case you have anything to add to the conversation.”

  “That’ll work.”

  Chris came back into the room and sat down on the couch, “I let him know we needed to talk and it was urgent. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

  Hana

  As soon as the Director pulled into the drive, Mason rushed upstairs. I sat in the living room while the guys went out to greet him.

  “Mason?” I whispered into the Bluetooth.

  “Yeah?”

  “Just making sure you’re there.”

  “I’m here,” his voice was soft and solemn.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” I could hear him sigh over the line.

  “You just sound...different.”

  “I just hate feeling useless. Before the bombing, I’d never felt this useless in my life.”

  “You’re not useless,” I argued.

  “I sit up here, hiding away, listening to everything being said through the Bluetooth. But I can’t be there in person for my friend who is hurting and scared for his wife. That sounds pretty damn useless to me.”

  Mason’s team walked through the front door already carrying on a conversation with the Director, trying to figure out a way to push the clock back until they could find a more permanent solution.

  “Maybe we can give them fake information?” Chris suggested.

  The Director stopped and stared down at me sitting aimlessly on the couch and I squirmed under his scrutiny.

  “This is the girl who’s supposed to be helping with the case?”

  “Uh, yes, sir,” Chris stuttered. “We believe she will be able to offer some insight into the situation.”

  “And what qualifications does she have?”

  It wasn’t lost on me that they were talking about me as though I wasn’t there and that irritated me. Then again, I had no idea how I would have answered him anyway.

  “She has a way of seeing things that I believe will be helpful, especially since Mason isn’t able to be here to offer his help.” Chris cleared his voice and the Director finally looked away from me and to him.

  “And you vouch for her?”

  Chris looked at me with a critical gaze then back to the Director, “yes, sir.”

  “Good, then let's get back to work.” Director Applegate took a chair and the other men found seats around the room, looking and waiting for him to speak. “About the false documents...”

  “Would they be able to tell the difference?” James asked.

  Director Applegate’s didn’t hesitate, “doubtful unless they have someone else feeding them intel that could contradict ours.”

  “We can’t risk it. If they find out we lied, they could kill her.”

  “We cannot give over pertinent intel to a possible terrorist, not even for one of our own. The fake intel is our best option.”

  “No, there has to be another way. We have to find her. Bust down their doors and take her back from them.”

  “We are running out of time. This is our best option unless you really want to find out which part of her they will send you first,” I cringed at the harsh words the Director said to James.

  “Okay, we’ll send the fake intel.”

  “We need to get it together and make it look real. Call in the tech guys and let's put something together.”

  “Okay.”

  Once the guys sorted out their plan and went to work calling IT guys and running down every lead and possible solution they could think of, just in case the one they’d decided on didn’t work, I went upstairs to check on Mason.

  “Hey, how’s it going up here?”

  “Not as bad as it is down there from the sound of things.”

  “Your friends are some really smart guys. They seem to have a good plan in place.”

  “Still, I feel like I should be doing more than just sitting up here wracking my brain trying to figure out how to help.”

  “You’re helping. You’re here listening and helping plan things out...”

  “It’s not enough. I should be down there, in the middle of everything working with them to help my brother in arms,” Mason sat on the guest bed with his head in his hands, frustration rolling off him.

  I walked over to him and placed my hand on his shoulder, trying to offer him some kind of comfort though I didn’t know what I could do, “it's all going to be okay. You guys have a plan and are working on a backup plan even. You’ll find a way to get her home safe.”

  “It doesn’t always work out that way you know?”

  “What do you mean?” I sat down on the bed and Mason looked up at me with pain in his eyes.

  For a moment, I thought he was going to close up and push me away but he let out a soft sigh before speaking, “years ago before I joined the team, I was on a military mission overseas. The government doesn’t negotiate with terrorists so we were sent in to take down their operation and recover the five American hostages they’d been holding.”

  “Wow, I didn't know you did that kind of thing.”

  Mason nodded and continued, “They had set up a base in caves and underground tunnels which made it hard for us to get eyes on them before breaching. They set the whole thing up, spreading out the hostages instead of keeping them all in one place to make it harder for us to decide which way to go and to keep us from being able to easily get them all.”

  “We cleared the first level. They’d only posted a few guards there but then on the second level there were more guards plus one of the hostages—a cameraman who had been captured almost three months before. He had minor injuries but appeared okay for the most part. We made it through three more tunnels, collecting hostages along the way until we only needed one more to rescue them all. The problem was, whenever we got a hostage, someone needed to see them out of the caves safely before we could move on. We didn’t want to take time away from our attack, so we went in short an extra man each time. The men would then have to try to make it back to us once they grouped up outside the cave but they hadn’t made it back. There were only three of us left and one hostage to get so we went ahead.”

  “The last hostage was a teenage girl. She’d been traveling for some mission trip when she was captured, brought over the border into hostile territory, and given over to the men to gain favor with them. She had been their captive for nearly eight months.” Mason closed his eyes and shook his head as if he were in pain as if trying to pull himself together to continue.

  “She was in bad shape. Beaten, bruised, filthy. Dry blood tangled in her light brown hair. She was only sixteen. You’d think she’d be crying, screaming, something but she just sat there calmly.”

  “Why was she so calm? I can’t imagine—”

  “She was numb after all the torture they’d put her through. She’d lost her fight.”

  “Were you able to save her?”

  “That
depends on what you consider saving. We got her away from the terrorists but the damage had been done. She reported that for the first couple months she had fought them every day as they did...horrible things to her but after so long, she’d given up.”

  “But you saved her, you got her home, back to her family,” I argued the point against his discouraged tone.

  “And three months after being home with her family she killed herself.”

  “Oh no,” my heart pained for the girl, for her family, and for Mason.

  “So, you kept up with her?”

  He nodded, hanging his head, “I called and checked in on her every week. I knew she was depressed and having trouble readjusting. I tried to tell her parents but they were just so happy to have her back, they couldn’t see how much she was hurting.”

  “None of that was your fault.”

  “I know. I just—it was hard. You know?”

  “Yeah.”

  I looked over at the man who just over a week ago, I was trying to fight off with a broken lamp and my heart ached for him. I leaned my head on his shoulder, suddenly overwhelmed with sadness for what he had been through and the kind of things he chose to endure just to help protect others. I hadn’t even realized I was stroking my hand up and down his arm until he pulled away with a sigh.

  “I should probably let you go check on things downstairs. Make sure everything is going okay.”

  “Oh, yeah. Sure,” I forced a smile, not really wanting to leave him. “I am your eyes and ears for now.”

  “Hey, Hana,” he called to me when I reached the door and I turned back.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you for doing this. You don’t even know my team. Hell, a week ago I was breaking into your house and holding you against your will but today, you’re helping me and my guys.”

  “I’m glad I can help. It seems you all do a lot of helping others, so I’m glad I can return the favor.”

  Mason gave me the most genuine smile I’d ever seen in my life and it grabbed hold of my heart like it would never let go.

  I rejoined Hunter in the living room. He was sitting, talking with a couple of the other guys. Chris and the Director came back after just a few moments but there was no sign of James.

  “Where's James?”

  “He went out back. Needed some fresh air,” one of the guys motioned through a doorway.

  I nodded and followed his direction into a very clean, whitewashed kitchen. Out the glass door, James sat on the back deck facing out into the yard. I walked out quietly not wanting to disturb him.

  “Not smart to sneak up on a spy,” he said, void of emotion and without moving.

  “Is that what you are? Spies?” I stepped closer and joined him on the step.

  He shrugged his shoulders and glanced at me before looking back down at his wedding band that he twisted around his finger. “It's what Natalie always called me.”

  “So, she knows what you do?”

  “She has the main gist of it. There's still a lot I can't tell her.”

  “How long have you been married?”

  “Just celebrated three years.”

  “Wow. Congratulations. How did you two meet?”

  “In a bar,” he let out a slight chuckle. “How cliche is that?”

  “There's nothing wrong with that,” I gave him a soft smile feeling so sorry for the situation he was in. “Will you tell me about it?”

  “About how we met?”

  “Yes.”

  “It's a pretty great story actually. I was sitting at the bar where I went regularly after a tough mission. Hell, where I went after every mission. I wasn't even looking to meet someone but isn't that what they always say happens? You always meet the one when you're not looking.”

  “She came up and sat beside me, ordered herself a drink. She was the one that started up the conversation. She was so shy and timid about talking to me first. It was adorable. And she was gorgeous. She had on the most incredible little black dress I'd ever seen. It hung from her body like it could just fall off at any moment and I remember thinking—sorry you don't need to hear that part,” he chuckled again.

  “Anyway, we ended up talking for hours in closing down the bar. I ask her back to my place. I never thought she'd agree but I just felt like I should at least take a shot. What could be the harm? She told me no, that she wasn't the type to go home with someone after one night but she did give me her number and said she'd be very disappointed if I didn't call her to ask her out. That confidence was so alluring.”

  “I left that night not feeling rejected but feeling hopeful like if this was something. I just knew it.”

  “And the rest was history,” I added with a smile and he smiled back at me with a nod.

  Mason came to the backdoor and spoke softly to not startle either of us, “Chris just left to get Caroline and make sure she is somewhere safe.”

  “Caroline?”

  “The Director’s daughter.”

  “And they think she might be a target too?”

  “We can’t be sure. They targeted her in the past and it seems like they are trying to go at everyone so we are just being safe.”

  “I see. That makes sense.”

  “It doesn’t look like there’s going to be any more contact from the kidnappers tonight so we should get going,” I nodded up at him and he looked at James with sympathy in his eyes. “You should try to get some sleep. We’ll get your girl back.”

  “Sleep. Yeah, right,” James muttered but he stood up from the stairs and offered me a hand.

  “Thank you,” I smiled and let go of his hand once I was on my feet.

  Mason offered James one of those shoulder-slap man-hugs I’d seen guys give before. “Try to hang in there. I know it's hard but we are going to find her.”

  “Mason,” the Director’s voice from the doorway made us all jump.

  “Director,” everyone froze, unsure of what to do now that the Director’s- deniability was gone. “I’m sorry, I thought you left at the same time as Chris.”

  “It's okay. We will deal with what comes. We have more important things to think about than whether or not I get a slap on the wrist. I’m glad I caught you before you left. There’s something you need to see.”

  “What is it?” Mason stepped closer to the Director and James and I followed, curious to see what was going on.

  Director Applegate turned on the television and flipped it to the local news where a clean-cut man in a suit was talking behind a desk. On the screen behind him was a photo of Mason. And the Director turned up the volume.

  Detectives released this picture earlier today of a man suspected of the recent bombing. Police say this man should be considered armed and dangerous and should not be approached by the public. If you see him, you are asked to call 9-1-1 or your local police department.

  “Shit, they’ve turned this into a full-on manhunt” Mason uttered under his breath and the Director muted the T.V.

  “You two need to get back to her house and stay there. I don’t need to tell you what this means.”

  “I know, but what about...” Mason motioned around the house.

  “The kidnappers gave us two days. We’ll take those two days and try to figure out our best plan of action.”

  “I want to be here when they call back. I’ll be careful but I need to be here.”

  The Director nodded and Mason turned to me. “We need to go.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Hana

  Mason spent most of the day looking through phone logs trying to find any information he could about the man who was helping to frame him. I was no help with that since I had nothing to compare the numbers to and wouldn’t know what I was looking for. I spent most of my day working in my studio.

  We ordered takeout for dinner since both of us were too distracted to cook. After dinner, I just needed a little longer to get to a good stopping spot on my painting for the night. I wanted to keep painting while the muse was working. I pa
inted frantically, trying to get the image in my mind onto the canvas before it faded away.

  I was lost in the swirls of color, the smell of the paint, the feel of the brush as it glided over the canvas. I didn’t even notice when Mason walked in. When he spoke, I jumped.

  “Hey, I’m about to go hop in the shower. You still busy at work?”

  “Yeah, I just have a little more to do before I turn in for the night. I don’t want to lose the momentum.”

  “I’m surprised you’re still able to hold your arms up. You’ve been at it all day.” He chuckled.

  “I know. I do this sometimes. I binge paint. Usually I’ll go all day with barely a thing to eat when I get like this,” I didn’t even look away from my work for fear of losing my vision.

  “That’s not healthy,” I could see him out of the corner of my eye, leaning against the door jamb in his jeans but no shirt. It was more distracting than I’d like to have admitted.

  “Luckily I have you here to force feed me,” I cast a playful glance at him before going back to the painting.

  “Force feed you? I was afraid you were going to inhale the whole fork the way you devoured dinner. I’m still trying to reach some of the food splatter from you throwing the food in your mouth.” I could hear his smile through his voice as he moved closer to me.

  I whirled around to look at him.

  “I did not. You’re exaggerating,” I pointed at him with my brush but in my enthusiasm, I flicked my wrist a bit too hard. The blue paint-filled brush splattered his face and chest. Trying to be serious was impossible, looking at him with his slacked jaw and blue paint dripping down his cheek. I burst out laughing but before I could bring myself to apologize, he closed the distance between us, scooped some red paint from my palette and smeared a streak down my forehead, nose, and chin.

  I looked up at him, shocked at what he’d done and before I knew it, we were both grabbing paints, smearing it or splattering it on each other while I laughed uncontrollably.

  We finally managed to stop our paint fight and the laughing faded.

  I took a paint rag from my pile and started wiping my face while he did the same.

 

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