Fourth Day

by Lisa Phillips

  Not the worst way she could cross into the beyond, but was today really the day she would meet Jesus? She’d kind of thought she’d be able to get married. Have kids. Not everyone got that chance, but she’d wanted to have it.

  The front door swung wide.

  “Good to see you, sir.” The voice had a British accent.

  Seriously? The man had a butler, like some TV billionaire superhero. Didn’t matter which universe, there seemed to be one either way.

  This was Kennowich’s element. The place where money bought people’s loyalty. A middle-of-nowhere estate where he could do whatever he wanted and get away with it.

  “Take her to the surgery suite.”

  He turned and walked away, leaving her alone with the butler. She wanted to throw up on the fancy tile right there in the foyer.

  Instead, the second the front door shut, she planted her feet and flipped up her head as she stood up. She got the lay of the land as she twisted into the man who’d been holding her. She slammed her interlaced fingers into his stomach.

  He doubled over, coughing.

  Allyson slammed her hands into his back, between his shoulder blades.

  He fell, reaching for her legs as he landed on the ground. She scrabbled back and slammed into the front door, then launched off it.

  One kick to his head, and he was out.

  Allyson dropped to one knee. Over the bent one, she brought her hands down and snapped the plastic ties.

  Then she searched the man for a gun.

  She found a pistol but no phone. It was loaded. Allyson held it out in front of her. The lingering tingle wasn’t going to give her an accuracy that would win awards, but all she wanted or needed to do was as much damage as possible.

  No. She needed stealth until she found a phone and called for help. Then she would have to hide somewhere long enough for rescue to come. And who knew how long that would take?

  Allyson snuck down the hall so she could find a back exit.

  Or should she set a fire and burn the place down while waiting for help? She shook her head as she peered around a corner, saw no one, and started running. She probably looked like a bedraggled crazy person, but adrenaline pushed the tingle out in favor of a surge of energy she’d badly needed.

  Think. Think.

  Phone.

  Back exit.

  Help.

  What would Sal do? Okay, so that was cliché, but if anyone could survive something like this, he could.

  She raced down one hall, then another, trying to figure out where a landline would be while also looking for a discarded cell phone. And who didn’t just carry one around with them every second? She didn’t like hers, but she still tucked it in her back pocket. Usually.

  The next open door was a small study. On the desk was a landline phone. She got a few angry tones while fat fingering the buttons to try to get a call out. Finally she heard it ring, thanking God—and pledging Him whatever he wanted from her—that she’d actually memorized Sal’s number by dialing it a hundred times from the courthouse phone during their case. Not that she was a total stalker weirdo, she just remembered it.

  “Alvarez.” He sounded out of breath.

  She made a “huh” sound, the only thing she could say before she realized she wasn’t alone. Someone was in the hallway outside the room.

  Allyson dropped the handset and ducked through a door in the corner, out of sight of the hallway door.

  As soon as she crossed the threshold, she spotted a yellow couch. Two women sat there. Both turned to her as she stood in the doorway, heaving for breath.

  The TV was on, playing some daytime awful soap opera with weirdly good-looking guys, and underhanded women who stabbed each other in the back.

  Her mind wanted to drift to what Kennowich had them there for, but she shut it off.

  One looked down at the gun, held loosely in her hands in front of her.

  Both were young. College age, like Vanessa had been when she’d been abducted. Glassy eyes, but she couldn’t see any additional evidence they were high from this distance. They stared at her. Passive, which spurred all kinds of horrible ideas she’d been trying not to think of.

  Allyson said, “You ladies wanna get out of here?”

  They looked at each other. The brunette said, “This episode isn’t finished.”

  Allyson heard someone behind her, in the office where she’d made the call. “I have to go. Come with me, if you want.” They would slow her down. Two people were harder to hide than one. She could come back for them, right? Or this could be their only chance, and she would never get another.

  “She thinks we wanna leave.” The blonde smirked. “Better run along little lab rat.”

  Allyson ran to the window.

  “They’re always locked,” the brunette said. “You need a key.”

  Allyson looked around for another way out. There was only one door, unlike the last room. She couldn’t go back to it, because it led to the gunmen who were in the study where she’d been just minutes ago.

  “Ugh, fine.” The blonde muttered to herself. “There’s a door behind the curtain, okay? Take it and go down the hallway. Keep going left, every turn. You’ll get to the patio. Eventually.”

  Allyson was going to have to believe her. Same way she had to believe Sal was now coming for her. That he’d realized what that call was, and now he and her team were going to show up, guns blazing to rescue her.

  There was a door behind the curtain. So she went through it.

  She had to have faith. Right now that was in short supply, but she needed to fall back on God. He had always been there for her, especially right after Vanessa’s disappearance. And before that, when her father had died.

  Right now she needed Him more than she ever had.

  Allyson made her way down one hall after another. They all looked the same, which made her wonder if she’d taken a wrong turn. Or if this was nothing but a labyrinth and she was going in circles.

  Finally she spotted a glass door and ran outside.

  The second her feet hit the concrete of the patio, a body launched at her from behind. The guy landed on her, expelling breath from her lungs even as his weight ground her hips into the hard surface.

  Allyson cried out.

  He hauled her up and back inside, where he threw her to the floor. She looked up to find Kennowich standing in front of her as she reached for her gun…

  It was still outside on the patio.

  “As amusing as that was, the doctor is ready for you.”

  . . .

  “You’re sure it’s her?” Sal gripped the phone and stood to the side as the ATF agents swung their giant duffel bags of gear into the rented SUV. It took longer than anyone had liked to check all their gear—and guns—through security to get there. But this was the final leg of the journey.

  “I’m sure.”

  He hung up on Talia. “She says we’re good to go.”

  As soon as they drove out of town up, they were planning to head into the hills where custom mansions had been built on huge lots, one belonging to a subsidiary of one of Kennowich’s companies.

  Carl slammed the back door. “Let’s go.”

  “One second.” Sal had spotted a familiar face pull up behind their vehicle. He lifted a hand to Niall, who raised his chin in a nod.

  They all climbed into the SUV, Sal in the front passenger seat. He hissed as he tugged his seatbelt on.

  “Okay?”

  He nodded.

  Daulton pulled out into airport traffic with Niall in the car behind them, being accompanied by a handful of local ATF agents based in California. It wasn’t like they could call the FBI, considering they’d probably all get arrested.

  “Update me,” Daulton ordered.

  “Victoria is with the FBI, being questioned. Talia found out through Mason, who is a known associate, but they’re keeping him informed at least. Just not the fine details. Probably because the FBI wants him to turn over Talia.” Sal pau
sed. “Haley surrendered herself to the FBI along with a flash drive of evidence compiled against Kennowich, including what he planted in our system. Dakota and Josh are in a meeting with the FBI in the DEA office, downtown Seattle. My guess is a negotiation of their intent to cooperate.”

  Daulton blew out a breath. “I appreciate you doing this for Allyson while your team is being dismantled.”

  Sal didn’t know how to respond. He did want to be there and helping them. But the threat to Allyson was real. Kennowich wasn’t going to destroy her if he had anything to say about it.

  The last thing he wanted was for her to show up years from now, after no word. Meeting a completely different woman. One who had been destroyed and remade by this man.

  No matter what happened to the team back in Seattle, they would now always be painted with the stain of suspicion. Whether the FBI got charges to stick, or not.

  The ATF had sent an email outlining exactly what their agents had done to Allyson, along with the location of the female agent and her partner they’d handcuffed to the bar—everyone in there making sure the crooked cops didn’t get away.

  Maybe that would help.

  Right now Sal just wanted to get to Allyson so he could help her. The team had each other, and they had help from multiple agencies. She had no one except the people there right now to go after her.

  “You guys have a thing?”

  Sal knew what he was asking. “I’ve been half in love with her for a long time. We haven’t been able to see a way to make it work, and it hasn’t been easy to figure out, but I think we are on our way.”

  He hadn’t been able to figure a way to have the future he wanted with her. After this, would she want to retire with him to his mountain? It was a dream he wasn’t sure would come to fruition, but he was certainly going to try.

  Why come this far, only to be denied the shot?

  God, help me get her back. Keep her safe until we reach the house and can get her out.

  Carl directed Daulton from the backseat to a predetermined spot where they would park the car out of sight. The approach would be made using as much cover as possible, considering the sun was still high in the sky.

  Yes, they could have gotten a warrant and shown up loud. But with the FBI breathing down their necks, it would have taken too long. Sal figured the second they showed up, Allyson would’ve been either dead or Kennowich would have moved her.

  Something in him wouldn’t let go of the idea that time was seriously running out for her.

  He needed her back. Whether that got him arrested or not didn’t matter. What mattered was getting to her before she was killed—or hurt in some other horrible way.

  Sal’s teammates had suffered trauma because of Kennowich, and they’d survived. He held onto that same hope for Allyson. She was made of equally strong stuff. Determination. Strength. A solid faith.

  He knew she could survive a lot, though he was really struggling with the ideas swirling around of what she was having to endure. The question had to do with Kennowich, and the lengths he would go. What he wanted from her.

  They loaded up and approached the house through the woods, spread out in formation according to the plan they’d formulated. It wouldn’t be good if Kennowich escaped. All of them got in position and radioed in. The satellite images Talia had managed to find and send over clued them in to a few entrances they could actually breach.

  At the signal, they entered the house. Sal turned the first corner and encountered a gunman. Thick neck, thick everything else, dressed in a suit with a shaved head. His brain registered, “goon” right as the man drew a weapon.

  Sal shot him before he could get a round off.

  At next corner, Daulton approached from the other side. “Watch out!”

  Sal turned as the assailant fired. He killed the guy, then turned back to find Daulton on the ground breathing hard.

  “That’s gonna leave a mark.”

  Sal held out one hand, and they clasped wrists. He pulled the ATF agent to his feet, and they continued on through the house.

  “West side is clear.”

  “Copy that,” Daulton replied into his radio. “Keep working through the rest of the house.”

  Sal kept going. They couldn’t end up empty handed. They had to find her. She was here.

  She had to be.

  Then, when he knew she was all right, he could head home and fix what was happening with his team.

  “Got eyes on Kennowich,” the voice came low over comms. “Looks like he’s in a home office. He’s got papers shredding, and he’s getting on the computer.”

  Daulton keyed his radio. “Lock him down.”

  “Copy that.”

  Sal heard their shots, even from this distance. Then a gun went off. If Kennowich was dead, he wasn’t going to shed a tear.

  “He’s on the run.”

  “Copy that,” Daulton replied. Then to Sal he said, “I’m gonna—”

  Sal tipped his head. “Go. I’m good.”

  He was going to find Allyson, and he wasn’t going to abandon that search until he knew for a fact she was safe.

  Sal stopped at the next corner, remaining behind the wall for cover while looking around. A man wearing green scrubs emerged from a break in the wainscoting. A hidden door. After looking both ways, the man scurried down the hall.

  He ran to the door and pressed against it to get it open.

  On the other side was a glass wall. Beyond that was what appeared to be a surgical suite. Allyson was laid out on the table, face down. She had her head turned to him, and her eyes were open. Glassy, full of pain and fear.

  A surgeon stood over her with a scalpel poised. The wound in Sal’s abdomen pulsed with pain.

  He lifted his gun and fired two shots through the glass.

  Blood spread across the man’s chest and he fell to the floor.

  Chapter 24

  Allyson cried out before she even realized where she was, or what was happening. “Whoa.” The man leaning over her wore a uniform. “You’re safe. It’s all over.”

  She shoved him out the way, then sat up. And cried out again.

  “You need stitches. Probably inside and out. It’s pretty deep.” He was an EMT.

  She was in an ambulance.

  Where was Sal? Wasn’t he here?

  The EMT touched something to the skin above her hip. It was gooey and cold. She sucked in a breath and forced herself not to look at it. “Do I still have a kidney?”

  The EMT blinked. “Do…what?”

  “Can you tell?” She tried to twist then, so she could see the wound. Her head swam, and she wanted to throw up. Had he given her something for the pain? Probably, otherwise it would likely hurt a whole lot more than this. “Is it gone?”

  Kennowich had threatened to take even more than that. But he hadn’t, because Sal had stopped him. Hadn’t he? Or was the sight of the man she loved nothing more than an apparition?

  She shut her eyes, not wanting to believe it had been nothing but a figment of her imagination.

  “They tell me you’ve been through an ordeal.”

  Allyson kept her mouth closed and concentrated on not freaking out. Wasn’t Kennowich here somewhere? Maybe this was a trick. Or a dream.

  Maybe this EMT was part of Kennowich’s operation. Get her to relax, so they could harvest a bunch of organs from her.

  “You’re awake.” Daulton stood in the open doors of the ambulance.

  She nodded.

  “You okay?”

  I think so. More like she hoped so.

  “…need to talk to her.” Someone she couldn’t see. Her head swam with pain, and she couldn’t figure out who it was.

  “Chill, muchacho. Give them a second.” Another voice, the person out of sight.

  Daulton glanced off to the side, then nodded to someone. “You’re good?”

  What on earth was going on? Who was he even talking to? “Where is Sal?”

  “He’s about to go help get Kennowich
to surrender. But he wants to talk to you first.” Daulton assessed her with his gaze.

  “Trust me.” Carl spoke, but she couldn’t see him. That was who was off to the side? “That isn’t a good idea.”

  “Just get out of my way.” She knew that voice.

  “Your funeral, dude.” She saw Daulton take a step back, then heard Carl say, “You should have seen her when she broke her toe. Bit everyone’s head off all day every day for a week.”

  “I don’t have a broken toe,” Allyson called out. “That was just because you guys annoy me.”

  Sal stepped between the open doors.

  “You still have to get Kennowich?”

  He nodded. “We think he barricaded himself in the barn.”

  “I’ll wait.” She shot a look at the EMT. “We’re not leaving until he’s in custody.”

  “We’ve got this,” Sal said.

  Allyson shook her head. “I’m not leaving.” The quaver in her voice betrayed her.

  Sal studied her for a second, then said, “You’re safe now. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

  “I’m not sure I’ll believe that until I know he’s in custody.” Or dead. “He was going to sell my organs to ‘recoup his losses’.”

  Sal looked like he was going to be sick. “Seriously?”

  She nodded. “You saved my life.”

  He climbed in the ambulance then, moving toward her with purpose. The EMT was out of the way, tapping the screen of a tablet, when Sal sat beside her and gathered her in his arms.

  “Easy,” the EMT warned.

  Sal’s hold on her loosened until she squeezed him with her arms. Allyson ignored the pain in her side, on her back, and just held on until her breathing calmed. Until her heart eased its mad thump, threatening to pound right out of her chest.

  “I’m going to go bring him in now.” He spoke low, his mouth close to her ear.

  Allyson nodded against his chest.

  He pulled back, asking the EMT, “You’re taking her to the hospital?”

  She grabbed his hand.