The Extractor

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The Extractor Page 27

by Leslie Georgeson


  “I did some research and discovered he’s married to a woman named Mary Kenyon and has two grown children, both daughters,” Noah continued. “He’s the CEO and majority owner of Ellington Pharmaceuticals. He owns sixty percent of the company. His cousin, Matt, is the vice president, and along with Ellington’s two daughters, Kellie and Chloe, owns the remainder of the pharmaceutical company. His wife appears to be a housewife. She has no college degree and a background search shows she never worked outside of the home. We already know Ellington was having an affair with Shannon’s mother, but we don’t know how long the affair went on before Shannon’s mother died.”

  I puffed out the breath I’d been holding. “So Ellington has Liz. He somehow disposed of Mateo back at the facility the night we rescued Shannon, then became Mateo, he somehow fooled the FBI and eluded them, and he’s been pretending to be Mateo ever since? Fuck! That doesn’t make sense.”

  The other dregs all exchanged glances.

  “Mateo was already with us before the FBI put a tail on Ellington, so how could Mateo be Ellington?” I demanded.

  “Yes, there are still some unanswered questions,” Noah conceded. “But right now, it seems Ellington is the most likely Mateo impersonator. He’s the only recruit we found so far with extreme interchangeability.”

  I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. “Can you keep searching the files to make sure there isn’t someone else in there?”

  “I already am,” Shannon announced. “But there’s hundreds of recruit files. I’m going through them as fast as I can.”

  I sighed and nodded. “Thanks.” Somehow, we would get to the bottom of this. “I guess that would explain why Ellington didn’t answer his phone, and why Mateo sometimes acts older than nineteen,” I mumbled. I hated it when things didn’t add up. I might be a mathematical genius, yet I couldn’t solve the Mateo equation, and that bothered the hell out of me. Because it shouldn’t be this difficult. Ellington did seem the most likely Mateo impersonator. But how could he be with us as Mateo and still fool the FBI? If Mateo really was Ellington, then what about Ellington’s family? His wife? Did they know where he was right now? A sudden chill crept down my spine. There had to be more here that we were missing.

  Oh Liz. My heart squeezed. Why had he taken her? Simply because he needed a hostage? Or because he was a sadist who needed a woman to torture? Why?

  The nausea returned again, pushing its way up my throat. I swallowed hard, forcing it back down. I couldn’t lose it in front of the other dregs. I had to be strong for Liz.

  I had to believe Liz was alive. I couldn’t give up yet.

  Please let her be okay. Please.

  Nate’s phone rang. He stepped aside to answer it. He listened a moment, then lifted his gaze to mine.

  “They found Mateo,” he announced. “Or Ellington. Or whoever the fuck he is.” Nate paused, listening again, still holding my gaze. “But Liz wasn’t with him. Mateo wouldn’t talk. He wouldn’t tell them where she was or what he’d done to her.”

  The breath snagged in my throat. My heart came to a screeching halt.

  No!

  I gasped in air. “But wouldn’t Tracker still be able to find her?” I glanced from one face to another.

  They all stared at me with compassion in their eyes.

  No one answered. No one dared say what I already knew.

  Not if she was dead.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Ryan

  No! No, no, no! I refused to believe that. Liz wasn’t dead. She couldn’t be. She was my forever girl. My soulmate. I needed her as much as I needed to breathe. Wouldn’t I feel it if she was gone?

  What if she truly was dead? What if Mateo had killed her?

  I hitched in a breath, squeezing my eyes shut. No. I refused to believe that. I refused! Liz was alive! She had to be.

  An uncomfortable silence stretched.

  Wait! Hold on! Tracker could only track a target’s most recent location, right? That meant Liz might be traveling in a car, and that was why Tracker had been unable to locate her.

  Drawing in a ragged breath, I opened my eyes. “Tracker can only track a person’s most recent location, right? So Liz might be traveling, which means Tracker will have to wait for her to stop somewhere in order to pick up a new lead.”

  Sympathetic stares and cleared throats passed around the room.

  “It’s possible,” Nate murmured. “Maybe someone gave her a ride. Hey,” he said into the phone. “Ryan wants to talk to you.”

  Everyone waited while he handed his phone to me. I put the phone on speaker so everyone could hear.

  “Hey man,” Tracker said. “It’s good to hear your voice. How you feeling?”

  “Fine. When was the last time you tried to get a lead on Liz?”

  Tracker cleared his throat. “About twenty minutes ago after we found Mateo. Why?”

  “Then she could be traveling in a car, right? You can’t track a moving target.”

  “Affirmative. In order to lock in on a target, I need their most recent location. They have to ‘land’ somewhere.”

  Everyone exchanged glances. My heart pounded as hope surged forward. “So Liz could still be alive and traveling somewhere.”

  I felt Tracker’s hesitation before he responded. “Mateo’s a sick little prick. He’s not talking. He won’t tell us what he did with her. But yes. It’s possible she might have hitched a ride with someone.” He didn’t state the other alternative. That Mateo could have killed her and dumped her body somewhere.

  I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply, then out. No. I would be positive.

  “I want to strangle that little shit,” I ground out.

  “Get in line,” Tracker said. “You’ll get your chance, assuming Luke doesn’t kill him first. We’re heading back your way right now. We should be there by nightfall. Mateo’s trussed up in the trunk of Luke’s car. You can have at him all you want when we get there.”

  I closed my eyes and heaved out a sigh. The little shit was going to get more than a “trussing up” from me.

  “Where did you find him?”

  “On the side of the road in south Texas, not far from Laredo. He was hitchhiking, trying to get a ride into Mexico. Unfortunately for him, we found him first.”

  That gave me a certain amount of satisfaction, knowing my dreg brothers had gotten to him before anyone else had picked him up. But where was Liz? What had happened?

  “Where did you last detect Liz’s presence?”

  “Not far from where we picked up Mateo. I don’t know if he killed her and disposed of her somewhere out there in the field…or if she somehow got away. I couldn’t track her after that. I got nothing. I’m sorry, man. I’ll try again when we stop to fuel up in the next town.”

  Silence stretched. I felt several pairs of worried eyes on me.

  Then Luke’s voice came over the phone. “Hey, bro. You don’t know how glad I am to hear your voice.” There was a pause, then, “I’m sorry about Liz. But we’ll find her,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Don’t give up yet. We will find her. If I have to drag Mateo’s torture out for days, or weeks, I will make the little fucker talk.”

  I swallowed hard, forcing the lump from my throat. I knew he meant it. But what if he couldn’t get Mateo to tell him where Liz was? What if it was already too late? What if Liz was dead?

  Don’t think like that. Be positive.

  “What did he look like when you found him? Mateo or someone else?”

  “Mateo,” Luke responded. “But Noah already told us Ellington might be using Mateo’s appearance to hide behind. So we’re aware that he might not really be Mateo, but Ellington or someone else in disguise.”

  I puffed out a breath. “Okay. Thanks, man. I’ll see you guys soon.” I disconnected, handing the phone back to Nate.

  My mom squeezed my hand. “Liz is a strong girl. And she’s smart. If you want to know what I think happened, I think she got away and she’s on her way back here right this minute
.”

  Nishi and Shannon both nodded their agreement. “Liz seemed pretty tough,” Shannon murmured. “And resourceful, too. She’ll find her way back to you, Ryan. Have faith.”

  I breathed in deeply again, slowly exhaling. I had to believe that, too.

  Had Liz somehow gotten away from Mateo and was making her way back to me right now?

  A knock came at the door, then a police officer stuck his head into the room, his gaze landing on me. “Hello Duane. Glad to see that you’re awake. I would like to take your statement now, if you don’t mind.”

  My fake ID stated I was “Duane Nielson” from Fort Lauderdale, Florida. We all had fake IDs, but soon, once we dealt with Ellington and/or Mateo, we could just be ourselves. I was looking forward to that day immensely.

  Everyone moved back as the officer stopped beside the bed and asked me about what had happened at the hotel. I told him Liz and I had been eating breakfast when Mateo had barged in and started shooting, which was only a slight variation of the truth. He nodded, saying he’d taken the statements of several witnesses who’d seen Mateo dragging Liz away at gunpoint. He said he’d already put out a BOLO on Mateo, but that they hadn’t yet spotted him. He said if he had any more questions, he’d be back.

  I thanked him, watching as he left.

  The cops wouldn’t spot Mateo. Not unless we wanted them to.

  Because we had the little prick now.

  And he was going to suffer for what he did to Liz.

  When I got done with him, there wouldn’t be enough of him left for the cops.

  When I got done with Mateo, he would be nothing but a feast for scavengers.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Liz

  I lunged forward into the darkness, heading toward the interstate.

  “Get back here!” the man screamed after me. He wasn’t Mateo anymore, but an older man with dark, gray-streaked hair. Not the one he’d turned into before, but younger than that, mid-fifties, maybe. He seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

  The man came out of the darkness behind me like a zombie, hobbling forward, clutching his injured arm. He must have lost his gun in the crash because he wasn’t holding it in his hand.

  Thank God for small miracles.

  I had never wished for athleticism and endurance more than I did that night.

  I fled into the grassy field, heading toward the lights of the cars on the interstate. I imagined I could hear Mateo’s—or the other man’s—panted breaths coming from behind me. His determined footfalls growing closer and closer…

  Terror wrapped around my heart, squeezing tightly, stealing my breath and my little bit of courage, and shoving it up and away.

  Faster, Liz. Run!

  I kept trudging forward, slowing to a walk when I could no longer run, but not stopping, forcing my legs to keep carrying me forward.

  I never once looked back. I didn’t want to see if Mateo was following me or how close behind me he might be.

  Keep going, Liz. You’re almost there.

  Finally, the interstate grew closer. Closer.

  And at last, I stumbled out onto the side of the road.

  I paused and glanced behind me.

  Mateo—or whoever the hell he was—was nowhere to be seen.

  Nothing but silence and the night.

  Had he collapsed and died out there?

  Had he gone in the opposite direction, deciding to head to Mexico and not worry about me?

  Please let him be dead.

  Stepping closer to the edge of the road, I waved my arms, trying to get someone to stop.

  Horns blared. Tires screeched.

  But the cars kept flying past.

  Dammit! Why wouldn’t someone stop?

  I glanced behind me again.

  Mateo suddenly appeared behind me. He’d morphed back into himself again. He’d said changing required energy and if he was wounded, it was even harder to change, and that sometimes his body shifted without his control. Was that why he’d changed back into himself again, because he couldn’t control the shifting?

  With a determined, vengeful look on his face, he came closer.

  I gasped and began running along the side of the road away from him.

  Please someone, stop! Please, help me!

  Tires screeched, then a car rocked to a halt in front of me.

  I rushed forward, eager to escape Mateo. The window on the passenger’s side rolled down and a woman in her late fifties or early sixties eyed me with concern.

  “You okay, miss? Were you in an accident?” She had a heavy Texas drawl that suggested she was from around here.

  I glanced across the car at the driver, a man with a full head of short-cropped gray hair and a craggy face. He smiled kindly at me.

  I nodded, tears swimming in my eyes. “Can you give me a ride to Oklahoma City? Please?” I glanced urgently behind me, but Mateo had disappeared again.

  The two people exchanged glances. Then the driver asked, “Are you in danger? Is this an emergency?”

  “Yes, it’s an emergency.” I had to get back to Ryan. I had to make sure he was okay. If we left now, I could be back in Oklahoma City before the sun came up. “I’ll pay you when we get there, but I don’t have any money on me,” I admitted. “I’m staying at the Hilton downtown.”

  The couple exchanged another long glance. Then the woman said, “Let’s help her. I’m in the mood for a road trip, anyway.” She turned back to me. “You can tell us what happened along the way, all right?”

  Relief swept through me. After facing Mateo’s evil, there was nothing in this world that frightened me. Certainly not getting into a car with two strangers. Neither the driver nor the passenger were scary. They seemed trustworthy. And they’d offered to help me, a complete stranger.

  I opened the back passenger’s door and climbed in. “Thank you so much. I really, really appreciate this.”

  They introduced themselves as Carl and Linda Jones, a retired couple from Lytle who had two grown children and six grandchildren. They were just returning from a day-trip to Mexico. But they apparently didn’t mind driving all night to take me to Oklahoma. Carl was mostly silent as we drove, but Linda proudly told me about their children and grandchildren, their names and ages and achievements, until I began to get droopy-eyed.

  “Go ahead and rest,” Linda said kindly. “We’ll wake you when we get there.”

  For the first time in my life, I had to rely on the kindness of strangers.

  Strangers who drove all night to get me back to Ryan.

  I slept for most of the journey.

  At five o’clock in the morning, we finally arrived in Oklahoma City.

  But when I reached the hotel room where Ryan and I had been staying, the door was marked off with crime scene tape and a “no trespassing” sign.

  I collapsed on the floor with a sob, despair hitting me with the force of a tornado.

  Ryan was gone. Gone.

  And I had no way to contact him.

  I didn’t even know if he was alive.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Ryan

  I checked out of the hospital against the doctor’s orders. I had Tony’s super-healing dreg blood in me, so I healed faster than I used to. The dregs all got rooms at the same hotel as my mother, and we managed to book rooms near each other, so we were all close together.

  But Liz was still out there somewhere. Alone.

  I couldn’t wait for Luke to get back with Mateo—or Ellington, or whoever the hell he was—so I could torture him myself. I was already imaging all the ways I could force the truth out of him. I vowed he would tell me what he’d done to Liz. I would make him scream in agony before I ended his life.

  The hours dragged by as we waited for news from Luke, Tracker and Jacob.

  Then, my phone rang.

  I was lying in bed in my hotel room, resting to allow my wounds time to heal. My mind had been in a constant turmoil ever since I’d learned Liz was still missing.
I was alone in my room, the other dregs letting me rest in solitude, though sleep was impossible.

  I snatched the phone up from the nightstand, my heart jumping into my throat as Tracker’s picture showed up on the screen.

  “Did you find her?”

  “No. But we just stopped at a gas station a few hours away. And I decided to check to see if I could get a feel for her. I got a read on her. She was here recently. She must have stopped to fuel up. Now I think she’s back there in Oklahoma City. I got a vision of her sitting in front of a door with crime scene tape on it. She’s alive, man.”

  Relief slammed through me, so powerful it stole my breath.

  I gasped, sucking in air.

  Liz was alive! Oh, thank fucking God! She was alive!

  Emotion clogged my throat. Tears stung my eyes.

  I swallowed hard. My girl was alive.

  Crime scene tape…

  That could only mean she’d gone to our hotel room where Mateo had shot me.

  Was she still there now?

  I had to find out.

  I needed to find Liz.

  I needed to hold her.

  I blinked rapidly, trying to wash the moisture from my eyes.

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” I disconnected and slid out of the bed, ignoring the pain in my bullet wounds.

  I dressed quickly and attached my prosthetic, then headed out into the hallway.

  Mom intercepted me as I was passing by her room.

  “Ryan? Wait a minute. Where are you going? I was just coming to check on you. I told you if you needed anything, I would take care of it.”

  “I know, Mom. But Liz is here. Tracker just called and told me he’d gotten a read on her. I have to go find her.”

  Her eyes filled with relieved tears. “She’s here? Oh, that’s wonderful!”

  “Will you tell everyone else? I don’t want to wait. I have to go look for her right now.”

  She pulled me in for a quick hug. “Of course, honey. We’ll all help you search for her. Now, go! Hurry! We’ll be right behind you.”

  I hurried down the hallway as my mom went to tell the other dregs.

  I made my way to the Hilton next door in record time, practically running in my haste to find Liz.

 

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