Fourth Day

by Lisa Phillips

  A single man sat in a lush chair halfway down the left side. Kennowich. There were seats for five more, but she figured she might wind up being the only other passenger.

  She turned back to the FBI agents. The female. Miller. The younger one had stayed in the car— he seemed antsy to get out of there after getting paid for his role as driver.

  “Thank you.” The man stood up from his chair. Kennowich had removed his suit jacket but still had his tie tight to the top. “That’ll be all.”

  As though the two FBI agents were the hired help.

  The man owned the space like any good CEO did. A man with power who knew exactly how far he could flex it. What did he have on these agents to induce them to hand her over to him?

  This was the guy who had convinced Vanessa that the only thing to do was to disappear from everyone in her life, make everyone believe she was in danger, and work for him. For years. Vanessa had pledged her loyalty to him and never once walked away. She’d allowed the people who cared about her to think she was dead.

  Now he had these FBI agents backed into a corner. Doing favors for him.

  Had they also convinced the rest of their agency that the Northwest Counter-Terrorism Task Force were the real bad guys? She’d thought they wouldn’t be swayed. Unless Kennowich had hacked the task force office and planted convincing evidence, which these agents had then revealed to the rest of the FBI.

  Now he had her.

  But why?

  Kennowich held out a securely closed manila envelope, stuffed to bursting. He tossed it at Miller who caught it with his left hand and the gun he held in his right. He stowed his weapon and looked inside, then nodded to the female agent.

  To her credit, she had the decency to look guilty enough to be nauseous.

  But Allyson wasn’t going to give her more than that. After all, she’d just handed Allyson over—tied up—to a man who had already kept one woman in captivity. For years. Then there was all the other corruption Kennowich had carried out—deplorable acts the task force had told her about.

  “That’s it?”

  The female agent didn’t glance back at her. She just walked out with her colleague and left Allyson here.

  “Have a seat.”

  Was she supposed to be satisfied with the one consolation the FBI agent had given her? A tiny chance at a way out.

  Maybe it would save her life, and maybe it wouldn’t. Allyson wanted to trust that it would help. To believe that God would move…and get her out of here. But when the airplane door was shut by a uniformed male pilot, hope waned.

  “Sit down.”

  Along with her hope, energy also fled as the plane began to move. Allyson landed in the nearest seat, then straightened to face Kennowich. He knew he had her at a disadvantage, but that didn’t mean she needed to add to it. She had to focus.

  He wasn’t going to break her. No matter what this was.

  As she studied him, she also tried to figure out what this was.

  What kind of prominent businessman undertook something this complicated? There had to have been a reason it was necessary to send Vanessa to her. She didn’t doubt that when he spoke he would be charismatic. Some people gravitated to that type of personality, allowing themselves to be swept up in it, malleable and codependent. Like Vanessa had been?

  She couldn’t speak for anyone else—definitely not Vanessa—when she didn’t know exactly what had been in her head. Whether he’d worn her down slowly, or she’d jumped in freely, thinking it was an amazing chance at a great life. She would never know.

  Her former friend had ended up in love with Kennowich’s head of security. But what had the path to that entailed? Allyson hardly wanted to know.

  And she definitely wasn’t going to ask.

  “And so you are here.”

  Allyson said, “In a plane?”

  “Surely you’re more intelligent than that. I have read your file.” He spoke with a lilt that indicated an upper-class background. A mid-century highbrow education. Now he was probably pushing eighty. White hair. Manicured hands that couldn’t hide the age spots.

  “Why am I here? I didn’t need to be dragged into this, and yet you sent Vanessa to me. For what?” It almost seemed like a sick joke. And maybe she shouldn’t put that past a woman who had betrayed her. Who had never been her friend in the first place.

  “Your role has been played,” Kennowich said. “Except that I have incurred substantial losses, and you’re in the position to enable me to recoup those losses. In full.”

  She had no idea what that meant, but several scenarios ran through her mind. The last was the worst.

  He had to have seen it on her face, because he said, “As fun as that might be, it’s not what I’m referring to.”

  “I’m not going to be a mule for you.”

  “I run a pharmaceutical company. Do you think I also am a drug dealer?”

  “I figure you have people for that.” She paused. “You probably even have someone to tie your shoes for you.”

  “Expendable people do jobs such as those. Don’t you think you’re worth more than that, Agent Sanchez?”

  “You said my role has been played. Obviously you’re now going to sell me, like you did Talia.” Not a one-time transaction, but a way to make money every day. Maybe for years.

  Allyson fought down a swell of nausea.

  He flashed bright white teeth and chuckled. “Vanessa was scheduled to provide an associate of mine with a kidney.”

  Her stomach dropped again. Bile hit the back of her throat.

  “Thankfully you’re the same blood type. I’ll be able to recoup my losses, and then some.”

  Allyson swallowed down the rest, or it would have ended up on the carpet. Was he going to take more than just one kidney? “I’m not going to allow you to do surgery on me. You have to know that I have a team and they’re looking for me.”

  “They won’t find you in time.”

  “It doesn’t matter how far this plane flies.” She tried to sound less scared than she really was. “Deputy Alvarez isn’t going to stop looking for me.”

  “He’s a little…preoccupied right now.”

  But he wasn’t dead. He wasn’t dead.

  If he had been, Kennowich wouldn’t have wasted the opportunity to rub that in her face.

  He said, “The task force is no longer. It’s only a matter of time before they are stripped of badges and freedom. That’s what happens when you get in the middle of my business. Now all I need is to get the financial recompense out of you, and then I can make a clean break. Wipe the slate in North America and start over somewhere the authorities aren’t quite so…tiresome.”

  The cockpit door opened then and a flight attendant approached. Slim hips, pressed clothes, and gelled hair.

  She waited until he was close enough, then jumped up. She swung her bound hands over his head. She pulled back, pressing her arms against his windpipe before he could react.

  Kennowich just stared at her.

  “I’ll kill him if you don’t land this plane and let me go. I’m not going to let you do surgery on me.”

  The pilot guy didn’t even struggle. A loyal subject?

  Allyson kept squeezing until he was about to go limp. What was she going to do when he was on the floor? She couldn’t kill an unconscious man—not even to save her own life.

  Kennowich smiled at her and shrugged. “Kill him.”

  The man’s body flinched, pressed against hers. So he didn’t want to die? She might be able to work with that. It was enough to let her know he didn’t entirely agree with the boss.

  The man shifted then, and reached back. She realized he was laughing.

  She heard the crackles and realized what was about to happen. She tried to move out of reach, but the prongs touched her side and she fell into unconsciousness.

  . . .

  The second he realized Victoria was in danger, Sal dived on her. They rolled across the ground and came to a stop by the elevator. H
e lifted up enough to see a man several cars down, ducked behind a vehicle. He had a rifle in his hands, braced on the hood of a car.

  The shooter.

  Between them and the FBI, Sal figured they thought it was the team shooting at them. More fuel to the fire against the task force.

  Sal said, “Get to cover.”

  He left Victoria and ran for the guy who immediately saw Sal coming towards him. He swung the rifle around to point it at him. It was the man he’d followed in the pickup truck, to the house where Allyson had been held. And he now wore an FBI badge.

  A man the FBI had been tracking.

  Sal ducked behind the wheel of a truck and pulled his weapon. What on earth was going on? He waited for a break between shots and then lifted up. He fired twice.

  One skimmed the side of the guy’s head, above his ear. Sal thought he saw a flash of blood as the guy turned. He stumbled and dropped the gun, then took off running. Not working with the agents here, trying to round up the task force. This guy had been acting on his own.

  Sal raced to the gun, but didn’t touch it. He wasn’t about to get his prints on it if there was a chance they were being set up for something more than those gun store robberies.

  More shots were fired. Sal ducked, and then realized it was the FBI agents who’d driven up. A team sent to arrest them.

  Car tires squealed around a corner and he saw more vehicles approach.

  Victoria was huddled behind the nearest car to where they’d rolled. She was on her phone, talking animatedly as she stayed in a crouch. Calling in for reinforcements? Maybe she was on with Josh. Or Niall, though he was still in California.

  Car doors slammed and Sal spotted Daulton, Carl, and a couple of other ATF agents. Daulton strode over to the FBI agents and said something Sal was too far away to hear.

  “Victoria Bramlyn.” The lead agent called out across the parking lot. “You will lay your weapons down and come out with your hands up.”

  Victoria said one thing, then hung up the phone.

  “Salvador Alvarez. You will lay your weapons down and come out with your hands up.”

  If he was going to do what the agent ordered him to do, the guy could at least mix it up. Add in some variety.

  Before Sal could respond, Victoria stood up with both palms raised. “It’s just me. Sal is gone.”

  What was she doing?

  “He needs to come out as well. We saw both of you.”

  “He ran off and left me.”

  Daulton, at least, didn’t look convinced.

  The FBI agent said, “Walk toward me slowly.” He moved to the edge of his door, still behind cover, even though all the ATF agents were standing in what would be the line of fire if anyone was actually shooting.

  “Alvarez shot at us,” the FBI agent said. “We’re going to find him.”

  “Let me and my team do it.” Daulton pulled Victoria toward him, and then moved her in the direction of the FBI agents. A smooth move that effectively put his team between them and Sal. “You guys have your hands full with this one.”

  They headed out as a group. They’d see him if they came far enough. Was Daulton intending on arresting him, or did he just want to talk to Sal?

  “We’re going to perform a thorough search of the area,” the FBI agent called out. Still, he wasn’t going with them. He was putting cuffs on Victoria.

  She looked kind of pleased. But Sal was far enough away, he could be reading her expression wrong.

  Sal stayed where he was, though he slid the weapon out of reach. It didn’t need to look like he was about to pick it up. Then he laid down his weapon and lifted both hands. Just in case he was misreading Daulton’s intentions.

  He could grab either one fast enough to defend himself.

  As soon as Daulton was within view, Sal waved. He stayed ducked down. As he’d figured would be the case, Daulton didn’t even react. Neither did his men who spotted Sal also. He waved at the rows of cars. “Spread out. Let’s find this guy.”

  Then he made his way between the wall of the building and the car hoods where Sal was crouched. He stopped two feet away and scanned the area. Then he lifted his phone to his ear and said, “What’s with the guns?”

  “Shooter dropped the rifle,” Sal told him in a low voice.

  “Where’s Agent Sanchez?”

  “What do you mean?” Sal didn’t like the sound of this.

  “Where is she?” he continued to speak into his phone. “I figured you knew.”

  “Haley took her home.”

  “She’s not there. Front door was open and there was a phone on the counter.”

  “Did someone take her? Maybe the FBI.”

  Daulton shrugged. “I figured you had her with you.”

  How was it possible that neither of them knew where to find her?

  The FBI agent called out across the parking lot. “We’re taking her in!”

  Daulton nodded, moving the phone away from his ear and stowing it on his belt. “We’ll let you know if we locate Alvarez!”

  Sal heard the cars retreat. He was trusting the ATF. More than he trusted the FBI, and maybe even more than he trusted his own team right now. It seemed that Victoria wanted to get brought in for questioning. Maybe even arrested.

  He just had no idea why.

  Sal couldn’t let that happen to him. If someone had Allyson—again—then being free was the only way he could figure out where she was. If she had been taken, that is.

  Daulton gathered up the rifle, and Sal grabbed his gun. He slid it back into its holster and straightened. The rest of the ATF agents wandered back to them.

  Daulton shook his head. “The FBI considers your team rogue. They’re putting a strong case together, and it doesn’t look good.”

  “Kennowich is pinning this all on us. We’re not rogue, but I don’t care about the case. Not if Allyson is in danger.” He lifted his chin. “We need to find her.”

  “Far as I can see,” Carl said, “you’re the one who put Allyson in danger in the first place.” The guy was scared for her.

  “I’ll make some calls. Check in with the agents talking to Sanchez’s neighbors.” Daulton motioned to their vehicles. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They were on the road, Sal in the middle row of three, when Daulton hung up the phone. “A neighbor saw her get walked out of her apartment by a female FBI agent and two males. We’ve identified her, but we don’t know where she is.”

  “It’s a start,” Sal said. “Can you get a photo of the agent?”

  When he got it, they all took a look. Even the agent driving. No one had worked with her, and the ATF agent who’d seen her before didn’t remember her name. If Welvern was up to it, Sal could have talked to him.

  “I can find out where she is if you have her phone number.”

  Daulton twisted around from the front seat.

  Sal said, “Call the Secret Service office and ask for Assistant director Armstrong.”

  Daulton shot him a quizzical look but did as he’d asked. He had the call on speaker when Mason picked up the phone.

  “It’s Sal. Is she there?”

  There was a shuffle on the line, then Talia said, “Kind of in the middle of something here.”

  Sal explained what he needed, giving her the female agent’s name and number. “We think Allyson might be in danger. This woman might know where she is.”

  Talia was quiet for a second, then she said, “I’ll track the number.”

  “Thank you.”

  She hung up.

  Two minutes later, they got the address where the female agent’s phone was currently being used to scroll Facebook.

  The place was a rundown, tiny, neighborhood-dive bar. The ATF agents led, with Sal in the mix. He didn’t need to be the one singled out as having accosted an FBI agent.

  The agent sat on a stool at the end of the bar, an untouched open bottle in front of her. Before any of them spoke, she looked up from her phone. “Make it fast. My partner
will be back soon, and I don’t want him to know I spoke with you.”

  Daulton said, “Where is Allyson Sanchez?”

  “Kennowich had us bring her to him. We put her on a plane.”

  Sal held back the urge to rage at her. “Headed where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is that supposed to be an answer?”

  The agent sipped her drink. Sal wanted to swipe it out of her hand and watch it shatter against the wall behind the bar. She set the bottle down. “I figured it would come to this.” She glanced at Daulton. “I want a deal.”

  Chapter 23

  The motion of the vehicle stopped. Allyson blinked and saw only trees. For a second, she thought they’d returned to the house in the mountains where she and Vanessa had escaped.

  Everything that had happened that day, and since, rushed through her brain as she came awake.

  The car door was opened from the outside.

  Allyson slid toward the opening and was caught before she hit the ground. Huge hands hauled her out, and half-walked, half-dragged her a couple of steps before the door slammed behind her.

  She flinched. The air she sucked in smelled like pine trees and was cool enough it raised bumps on her skin. She looked through the curtain of her hair as they hauled her along, not bothering to put in any effort. They didn’t need to know she was coming around. The lingering effects of being stunned made her extremities tingle.

  The place looked like a manicured country estate.

  Not the mountain location home she’d been in last time. This place was styled like a rustic log cabin, but it was the size of a mansion.

  Her hands were still bound in front of her, the way the FBI agent had done. Wrists facing each other with enough space between them, a healthy inch so that she could get free if she got half a chance to so. The agent had to have known she’d given Allyson this way out.

  Several people walked with them, but only one carried her. Kennowich led the group. He’s going to take my kidney. The words rushed back to her. Would he take much more or was it everything? That part she couldn’t remember. But did it matter? She would be dead, and he’d have gotten his money back.