Cassandra landed on top of the man, whom she now recognized as Niklas. Now sporting a gash on his cheek and stunned from the blow, he gasped for breath. She took advantage of his condition and banged his wrist against the hard floor to release his grip on the gun. The high-caliber pistol popped from his fingers and she scrambled for it as it slid across the floor.
Niklas swung his elbow at her face, she jerked her head to the side, and his elbow connected with her shoulder. She grunted in pain, but before she could catch her breath, Niklas grabbed her by the shirt and flipped her over him. She slammed to the floor on her back. The impact knocked the air from her lungs and rattled her teeth. A shaft of pain speared through her. In the distance, she heard Trevor yell her name.
Trevor’s only thoughts were to divert Niklas’s attention from Cassandra and give her time to run. A clatter sounded outside and distracted Niklas. Without thinking, Trevor grabbed his laptop and swung Jack at Niklas’s face. The laptop’s case sliced across his cheek and Niklas stumbled back out the door. Cassandra was a blur of movement as she rushed and tackled him before he hit the floor.
“Cassie!” He ran into the mêlée in time to see Niklas slam Cassandra to the ground and roll to his feet. Rage filled Trevor when Niklas lifted his foot to stomp on her. He charged at Niklas, aiming a punch to his face. His knuckles connected with the side of Niklas’s cheek and Trevor groaned as a current of pain shot up from his wrist to his elbow. Niklas’s head barely snapped to the side, as if Trevor hadn’t even touched him. With a malicious grin, he grabbed Trevor by the neck and slammed him back against the window. Trevor groaned again on impact. The sound of the glass cracking echoed in his ears as lines splintered across the window. Pain spread like a wave across his face and his vision blurred.
Pressing his hands against the glass, Trevor pushed to the side in a fluid motion, twisting his body around to face Niklas. With a snarl, Niklas shifted his hand to Trevor’s face. He caged it with his fingers and dug deep into his flesh. Trevor shoved hard against his wrist and worked at prying off his hand. He swung his other fist and connected with Niklas’s chin. Niklas’s head popped up and his eyes snared Trevor’s as he tightened his hold. Trevor reached out and dug his own fingers into Niklas’s face.
Rivulets of sweat ran down their temples at the exertion of the fight as they continued to hold each other’s eyes. Loud grunts filled the air as they fought for control. Trevor jabbed his thumb into Niklas’s eye. He roared in rage, jerking Trevor from the glass, slamming him on his back to the floor, winding him. A fresh wave of pain washed over him as everything went black.
Cassandra saw Trevor charge Niklas and her heart fell to her stomach. Struggling for breath, she looked for the gun and saw it lying by the neighboring cabin’s door.
The sound of cracking glass and the sharp bark of pain that followed cleared her mind. She looked up to see Niklas pressing Trevor’s head against the window. The look of determination on Trevor’s face fueled her. She rose to her knees and moved for the gun again. The vicious struggle behind her renewed her efforts to take possession of it.
Hope flooded her when the gun was within reach of her fingers, but just before she could grip it in her hand, she was rammed from behind and pinned to the floor. She hissed through her teeth when her head was jerked back by her hair and a hand squeezed her windpipe. She bucked and twisted to dislodge the weight while trying to pry the hand from her throat.
Hot breath caressed her cheek and her skin crawled when the sadistic voice burned in her memory whispered in her ear, “Is this what they taught you at the Farm, Ms. James? Pathetic! Truly pathetic!”
Niklas laughed at her struggles and pulled her tighter against him, bowing her body off the floor. “Where’s the hard drive Kenyon gave you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she gasped. Tears glazed her eyes as she braced herself on her arms to try to ease some of the strain to her back.
“The hard drive Ms. James. Where is the hard drive? I want it now!”
“I already told you! I don’t have any hard drive!”
Cassandra’s heart raced out of control and cried out at the thought that Trevor had been badly hurt. She couldn’t see or hear him. Struggling, she reached back to grab the wrist twisting her hair.
She heard Niklas chuckle and click his tongue at her efforts. “Is this all you can do, Ms. James? Such a disappointment. I’d expected much more from our encounter. Had looked forward to it, actually.”
He loosened his grip on her hair and the pain abruptly eased, but Cassandra’s relief was short-lived. Pain blossomed from her neck when his fingers dug deep into her skin, pressing against her windpipe again, making it even harder to suck in air. In that moment, all the memories of what Niklas had put Kenyon through hit her, and her only thought was to escape his grip.
She blanked her mind to everything around her and slammed her head back into Niklas’s face. She heard a stomach-turning crunch followed by an agonized yell. Unbearable pain exploded in the back of her head and darkness invaded her vision, but still she struggled through it.
Niklas tightened his fingers in her hair. “Bitch! You fucking broke my nose! You’re dead!”
Cassandra’s pulse raced into overdrive. With a surge of adrenaline and gasping for breath, she brought her hand up to her throat and wiggled her fingers underneath his, which had loosened slightly on impact. With the other hand, she grabbed hold of two of his fingers and pulled back with all her might.
“Fuck!” The scream kicked off a loud ringing in her ear and the cuff to her head dropped her to the floor again. She grunted as he pushed away from her and continued to curse up a storm in pain.
She heard the sound of his feet shuffling her way again. She kicked her leg out and, sweeping it, knocked his out from under him. As he dropped to the floor, she rolled to her feet and ran to the door connecting to the next car to put distance between them.
As she reached out for the handle, Niklas grabbed her and slammed her first into the metal door and then back against the wall. Cassandra cried out as pain burst across her face and burned along her back.
Grunts and a cry of pain met Trevor’s ears when he came to. Cassandra! He shook his head, rolled to his feet, and dove back into the fight, reaching Niklas before he could do more damage to Cassandra. The bruises he saw on Cassandra’s face as he charged Niklas burned in his mind and fanned his anger. His focus narrowed to beating the shit out of Niklas. He straddled Niklas’s chest and furiously punched him in the face. Their grunts filled the corridor as they traded blow for blow. Niklas bled profusely from the gash Jack had opened on his cheek and the damage Cassandra had inflicted on his nose. That’s my girl!
Niklas’s manic laugh rang through the corridor as he became a machine, pounding away at Trevor like he was his own personal punching bag. Suddenly, Niklas grabbed Trevor by the shirt and flipped him over his head. Trevor landed on his back, but quickly rolled to his feet and turned to face Niklas.
They charged at each other, but Niklas’s years of military training gave him the advantage. At the last minute, Niklas pivoted, dug his fingers into the back of Trevor’s arm and elbow, and sent him flying into the wall of the train. The sound of Trevor’s body hitting the floor was loud in the tight quarters.
Cassandra saw Trevor lying on the floor and her mouth went dry. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied the gun near the door of their cabin. She dove for it, but Niklas knocked her out of the way with a kick to the gut. She grunted and rolled to her side with an arm wrapped across her middle. Niklas grabbed the gun and turned it on Trevor, who had risen to his feet at the same time as Cassandra. He stared back at Niklas defiantly.
“End of the line for you, pal,” Niklas said coldly.
Realizing the implication of Niklas’s words, Cassandra launched herself in front of Trevor. “No!”
A burning shaft of pain pierced her shoulder as she dropped to the floor. Her head bounced on the boards and her last thoughts were of T
revor. Her greatest fear had come true. She had lost him. Her heart shattered in a million pieces and tears slipped passed her lashes as darkness wrapped its arms around her.
“Cassandra!” Trevor cried out in disbelief. The shock he felt reflected in Niklas’s eyes. Neither of them had anticipated such a move. The agony at seeing Cassandra bleeding at his feet ripped him apart, and the animal in him, the one he’d found lurking under his skin earlier at hearing her talk about Nathan, surfaced in a blast of sheer, uncontrollable rage. He attacked Niklas with everything he had, his height giving him the advantage as he knocked Niklas back against the wall and punched him like there was no tomorrow. A lucky shot to Niklas’s throat left him gasping for air and Trevor grappled him to the ground, trying to wrench the gun from him.
“You better hope she’s not dead, bastard!” Trevor growled.
As they wrestled for control of the gun, Trevor increased his efforts and peeled two of Niklas’s fingers from it, bending them back until he screamed out in pain. Trevor didn’t ease up. The snap of fingers breaking echoed in the corridor and brought a deep sense of satisfaction to him. Plucking the gun from Niklas’s now useless hand, Trevor pointed it at him and moved back to stand over Cassandra.
He heard the sound of the door at the end of the car sliding open and laughter drifting toward him. Without taking his eyes from Niklas—who had stood and was now leaning back against the wall holding his injured hand—he yelled in French, “Get help!”
Niklas motioned forward and Trevor looked him in the eye. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You don’t have the guts.”
“Try me, asshole…”
Niklas rushed him. Everything slowed again for Trevor. This time he could hear his father’s whisper in his ear: Take a steady breath, Trevor. Hold the target in your sights. Breathe as you pull the trigger. Steady, son.
The muffled sound of the shot filled the corridor and Niklas staggered falling to the floor on his back. Niklas’s breath sawed in and out and a psychotic grin curved his mouth as he slowly turned his head and looked directly at Trevor with a pinch of respect in his glazed eyes.
“I warned you,” Trevor muttered in disgust.
Trevor quickly fell to his knees at Cassandra’s side, pulling off his shirt and pressing it against the blood spilling from her shoulder. The amount of blood scared him. God, she looks so pale.
He brushed the hair from her face and choked out, “Come on, Cassie girl! Open your eyes for me, lass!”
Her eyelids fluttered open slightly and his heartbeat raced at seeing how glassy her eyes were. When they closed again and her body relaxed onto the floor, Trevor was filled with fear, desperation, and anger. “Don’t you fucking leave me! Stay with me, Cassandra!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Fall From Grace
Robert heard the phone as he was about to leave for the office. He considered letting it ring, but nobody ever called that early unless something needed his immediate attention. He backtracked to the library and picked up the call.
“Robert James?” said the voice on the other end.
“Yes? Who’s this?”
“My name is Trevor Bauer. I’m calling in regard to your daughter Cassandra, sir.” The man’s voice held an accent and a tense inflection colored it.
“Cassandra? Did something happen to her?” Robert went on full alert. “Who are you? Are you a friend of hers? I don’t think I’ve heard your name before.”
“We were attacked on the train back to Paris. Cassandra was shot.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Paris? Is this some kind of joke?” Robert felt his control slip. The last time he’d talked to Cassandra they’d left much unsaid. He knew she’d been hurt at her dismissal from the Bristol case, and Robert had given her space, thinking it would be best if he just let her be for a while. As far as he knew, she was still at home. If this Bauer guy was telling the truth, she’d left the country without even saying a word to him.
“No, sir. I’m very serious. Cassandra is undergoing surgery as we speak. I need to get back to the room to wait for news of her, but I had to call and let you know what’s going on. I also thought you’d want to know who hired the man who hurt her. It’s tied to the Bristol case.”
“Damn right! What the hell are you doing with her, all the way in fucking France?!”
“We’ll talk about that when you get here. I’m assuming you’re coming.”
“I’m out of here on the first flight. I’ll need the hospital’s address. Wait a second. Did I just hear you say this all connects to Bristol?”
“The person responsible for the breach, the one who orchestrated the copy of the files, was under your noses the entire time.
“Who? Who was it?”
“Bristol’s Chief Security Officer, Drew Caldwell.”
“Caldwell? That’s not possible. The man is one of the pillars of the company. I have it on good authority that he is topnotch at handling their security!”
“I have transcripts of his calls to the two men he hired to retrieve the copied files from the employee he convinced to infiltrate the servers and do his dirty work. She was just a pawn. She caught on that something was off, and Carl Kenyon, one of the men he hired, killed her in Paris.”
Robert heard the sadness in his voice and a deep sigh sounded over the line before Trevor continued, “We assume Kenyon must have realized the value of the files he had in his possession and decided to double-cross his employer. He was contacting other pharmaceutical companies right before Caldwell brought in a known black ops by the name of Niklas Möeller. I also have transcripts of his conversation with Möeller where he specifically gave him the green light to eliminate Kenyon and Cassandra. Somehow, Caldwell must have found out Cassandra was in France and still working on the case.”
“Son of a bitch!” Robert cursed harshly. Trevor was very precise with his quick explanation of what had taken place and left him no doubt that what he was telling him had indeed happened.
“The intercepts and transcripts don’t quite give us the full picture of Caldwell’s motives, but they do show a very sick man behind the mask. He needs to be stopped, sir.”
“Oh, he will be. Don’t worry about that. The beauty of having served in the military; it’s one big family. We always have each other’s backs. I’ll need copies of the transcripts and anything else you have. When can you get it to me?”
“Way ahead of you, sir. It should be in your inbox as we speak. Look for an email from George Miller. He is a trusted friend.”
Robert was alarmed. “Hold on a minute. I never gave you my email.”
“We’re NSA. We’re the gods of the digital age.” Robert could hear the cockiness and humor in Bauer’s tone.
“I can see we have a lot to talk about, Mr. Bauer—including how the NSA fits into all this. We’ll be having a little tête-à-tête when I arrive in Nice.”
“I look forward to it, Robert,” Trevor responded calmly, and disconnected the call.
Robert was strangely intrigued by the fact that Trevor didn’t sound afraid of his unspoken threat. He liked a man that stood his ground. Robert immediately placed calls to several of his former military friends in very high places. Within a couple of hours, the FBI had been mobilized and an arrest warrant had been issued for Drew Caldwell. The sick son of a bitch was in for a big surprise. Robert smiled and picked up the phone again.
****
Drew Caldwell, unable to fall back asleep after Niklas’s call, had arrived at work very early that day. He anxiously awaited Niklas’s next call notifying him of his possession of the files and confirming the job had been completed as instructed. It was imperative that he received that information before the board meeting later that morning.
The television in his office displayed the morning stock market reports, its volume a low hum in the background. Glancing at it, he saw the words Nice, France flash on the screen. He grabbed the remote from his desk, pumped up the volume, and rewound th
e news to the beginning of that segment. The image on the screen was of a reporter standing in front of a high-speed train stopped on the tracks.
On the international news front, a shooting has taken place on the high-speed train from Nice to Paris, resulting in one fatality. A second passenger has been airlifted to the hospital in Nice. No details regarding the shooter are available at this time; however, we have learned that the second victim, a woman, is listed as in critical condition. Both victims are thought to be American tourists; however, we cannot corroborate it at this time.
Drew’s laughter echoed in the room. He jumped up from his chair and paced excitedly. Everything was falling into place. If he kept going at this rate, he’d be holding Edward Bristol’s job within another five years. Getting his hands back on the hard drive was key to making all his dreams come true.
Drew sat back in his plush chair and smiled broadly. He was almost positive that the train in question was the one Niklas had called him from and the injured woman, Cassandra James. That could only mean that the dead passenger was her companion. Exhilaration filled him knowing his plan had been executed. All that was left was for Niklas to contact him so he could get him on a plane back to the States.
A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Come in,” he called out.
“Drew.” Edward Bristol, owner and CEO of Bristol Pharmaceuticals, walked to Drew’s desk and sat in the visitor’s chair.
Countermeasure (Countermeasure Series) Page 31