by AJ Nuest
“Damn, you nailed it.” Nick snapped his head up, zeroing in on the narrow-eyed warning Xander leveled at him through his coke bottle glasses. “Um, Tanner’s right, I mean.” He faced the room. “And coupled with the long list of symptoms most viral patients usually have to deal with, I wouldn’t be surprised if six months to a year goes by before anyone complains.” He cleared his throat, voice lowered as he spoke from the side of his lips. “Please tell me you did not just memorize the formula.”
Verifying his results matched the screen, Xander returned DeFranco’s stage whisper with one of his own. “Gee, Nick, I don’t know. What does it look like to you?”
“There’s also the fact Ryan’s teetering on the verge of bankruptcy. Surprise, surprise.” Molly’s eyes shifted back and forth over her monitor. “Latest bank statement shows RyaMed Pharmaceuticals has been functioning in the red for almost an entire fiscal year.” One of her eyebrows rose, and she crossed her arms. “Desperate times, desperate measures, I guess.”
Byrne grumbled a list of obscenities and rammed his gun in the holster.
Satisfied the formula had been successfully stashed in his head for later use, Xander tore the sheet off the pad and yanked Charlie’s flash drive from the laptop. “Do me a favor, Nick. Shut down the file.”
A push of his thumb, and the USB connector cracked with a snap, the silver jack hanging off the end of the stick.
DeFranco’s jaw came unhinged at the same second Byrne lunged forward, batting Archer’s Glock away from his head. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? That flash drive was evidence in a federal investigation.”
Not anymore. “I’m saving a life. In fact, I’m saving the lives of everyone in this room, if it comes down to it. Not to mention anyone else unlucky enough to swallow Ryan’s next medication. Or did you forget that’s why we’re here?” Xander strode to the fireplace, tossed the paper and portable drive onto the kindling and popped a wooden match with his thumbnail.
Sulfur coated the air as the flame flared, and he held the match upside down until the flame caught before chucking it onto the grate. “As of this second, Ryan and I are the only two people who can recreate the formula.”
“Which makes you every bit as dangerous as he is.” Byrne gritted his teeth. “And leaves me no choice but to lock you in the cell right next to his.”
Xander snorted. “Come on, Byrne. Get with the program. The only way Ryan can be sure his ass is covered is for him to hit the kill switch on anyone he suspects has ever laid eyes on the formula.”
Nick DeFranco stiffened in his chair and went eight shades of white. “That sucks.”
No shit. And in taking the most logical step forward, Xander had ensured no one else was at risk. “You and I both know destroying any and all copies was the right move. The only move. And we also know Ryan isn’t about to let this end with one or two drugs. That arrogant asshole is playing God with the world’s population, and on the eighth day he plans to turn everyone into a bunch of pill-popping addicts and set RyaMed Pharmaceuticals up as the only supplier.”
“Good God.” Eden lowered her chin, auburn coils bouncing around her ears as she shook her head. “He needs to be stopped. But with his connections, getting a conviction to stick would be like trying to convince a jury Gandhi and Ted Bundy were one and the same.”
Kelly grunted. “Even if he’s brought up on kidnapping charges, my guess is he’ll walk out of Federal Court with a slap on the wrist.”
Exactly. Ever since the release of LZR-7, Thomas Ryan had been hailed as a hero. As if that wasn’t enough, every bit of evidence they had on the guy was stolen goods. It didn’t take a person with Xander’s IQ to know Ryan’s attorney would play up the angle, find a loophole to make his laptop and every file saved on the drive inadmissible in court.
Add in a couple of favors here, a few back alley deals there, and every indicator pointed to Ryan walking free and clear to do whatever he wanted.
Xander headed back toward the table to remove his server from the laptop and double-check any possible connections to him had been wiped clean. “Time to decide whose side you’re on, Byrne. Better yet, give us a hand and I may even consider sitting down with you to discuss what happens to the formula once everything is said and done.” Sliding the keyboard over for better reach, he entered the preset code to download a bad BIOS onto the firm-ware and fry the motherboard. “But make no mistake. I’m taking Ryan down regardless of whether or not the FBI is involved.”
There were only so many places he could hide. And with Eden’s help, with the help of Kelly’s team and resources, they’d find him, all right.
Once they did, Xander would have no problem doling out his own brand of justice, which ended with Ryan never enjoying the light of day again.
“Molly, you still got the make and model on that car?” Ryan liked messing with traffic cameras? Seemed only fair Xander return the favor. “Hack into the DOT database and see if you can track which direction they headed. Start at the manor and go from there.”
“Got it.” She sat forward, keys rapping.
A bing sounded, and Xander hesitated with his finger over the enter key as an instant message appeared on the bottom right-hand corner of the screen.
Shit. He straightened, easing his hand away from the board. What was this? Ryan was phishing? Hoping if he sent an IM to his personal computer, whoever had it would answer and be willing to work out a trade?
“What’s the matter?” Eden hurried across the room, tossing her white wool coat over the back of a conference table chair. She leaned toward the laptop and then snapped straight. “It’s Ryan.” She glanced at Xander. “You think he’s ready to deal?”
Charlie in exchange for the formula.
Byrne strode toward the table, stopping near the back of Molly’s chair. “I want in.” His gaze passed from Xander to Eden and back again. “Latest intel we got showed Ryan was still on vacation in the Maldives, which means either someone sent the message for him or he’s communicating from a country that holds no extradition treaty with the US. This might be our only chance to reel him in.” He cocked a brow. “I give you my word, Dade. Let my department run backup and I’ll do whatever I can to keep your team’s involvement off the record.” He crossed his arms. “As long as you agree to a sit-down once we got ʼim.”
“Done.” Xander slid the cursor over and opened the message.
The only thing listed was ten-digit phone number, and based on the screwy area code, it connected to an untraceable, throw-away cell.
Smart. And Xander’s first clue that Ryan had grown desperate enough he was ready to reach out, change up his original plan…and guarantee the margin for error had doubled in size.
“He wants me to call.” Xander snatched his phone from his back pocket and thumbed in the number. Fine by him. Byrne might be done playing games, but Xander had only just started, and the number one item on his agenda was making sure Ryan understood exactly who wrote the rulebook.
“Hold on, hold on.” Face buried in one of her gear bags, Molly rummaged around and pulled out a portable speaker, tugging the cords from a tangled mess. “Use this so everyone can hear.” She centered the base in the middle of the table and fed the jack into the side of her computer. “I’ll see if I can triangulate the location.”
“Don’t bother.” Xander docked his cell in the slot and tapped the screen to initiate the call. “Stay on the traffic cameras. Get me as close as you can.”
Hang on, Charlie. I’m coming…
A cool detachment honed his senses as the line connected. Adrenaline iced his veins, and every feature in the room converged down to the razor-sharp edge of a knife.
The line clicked over and everyone paused.
“We have Ms. McGovern in our possession.” A digitized voice vibrated through the speaker, and every impulse in Xander’s body screamed at him to grab his phone off the speaker and smash it against the nearest wall.
That was classic. Whoever this chicken shit was, they didn’t even have the balls to use their own voice. “If you plan on seeing her alive again, you will bring the formula—”
Wrong. Xander jabbed the button to disconnect the call.
A moment of disbelief hung in the air. Molly gaped and Tanner spun toward Eden. Mocha sputtered and Byrne flinched like he’d been zapped by a live wire. “What the fu—”
“Leave him alone.” Eden slashed her hand through the air. “X knows what he’s doing. Everyone just chill out and let him finish the job.” She bobbed her chin at Xander as Byrne’s two suits traded a frown. “Go ahead, X. Your move.”
If not for the gut-fisting circumstances, he would’ve pulled her into his arms and hugged her. Out of everyone present, she was the only one who got what he was doing.
He returned her nod and stepped back to the table. Giving one inch would only pit them against Ryan in the weaker position, and if the power-hungry asshat truly believed he was quick enough to butt brains with Xander, he was in for one helluva ride.
From now on, they were doing things his way.
He reached across the table and hit redial, a muscle ticking near his temple as the call rang through.
“That had better been a mistake. Hang up a second time, and you’ll never see the woman—”
Wrong again. Xander jabbed end call and stood back, molars shearing off a layer of enamel. Dammit, this sucked. But he had no other choice.
No one moved, and he counted three heavy heartbeats before bracing his palm on the table and leaning forward to place a third call.
The line connected, and he closed in before any more bullshit had the chance to come through the speaker. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch. I have what you need, and if you want it back, you’d better pay attention because I’m only saying this once. If you hurt one hair on her head, you die. It’s as simple as that. Charlie comes to any harm and there will be no rock you can crawl under, no hole you can dig deep enough to hide in. From now until the end of time, I will hunt you down. And when I find you, and make no mistake that I will, I’ll rain the likes of hell on you, life in federal prison will be a welcomed escape.”
Pushing up from the table, he fisted his hands, a penetrating ache building at the base of his throat. “You have exactly ten seconds to put her on the phone or I’m connecting the dots back to RyaMed and dumping everything I got onto the web.”
* * * *
Pain. Like a long-lost friend, it burrowed into her muscles, skipped across her nerve-endings, jabbing and needling inside a dark hole of oblivion until Charlie was forced to acknowledge she was awake.
God. She bit her bottom lip to stifle a moan. So much pain, it was all-consuming. A thick fog that messed with her perception and refused to let her think straight.
Squeezing her eyes tight, she locked a breath in her lungs and rolled onto her side.
Brittle splinters exploded through her shoulder. Cold air seeped into her skin, slicing through Xander’s damp shirt to claw at her back. A wracking shiver bounced her head off the floor, and she gritted her teeth, slowly…achingly drawing her knees to her chest.
No. She could take it. More and then some, if she had to. If the past had taught her anything, letting on she was hurt only brought more of the same. She hadn’t given her stepfather the satisfaction back then, and she wasn’t doing it for the asshole who’d beaten her now.
Spasms rippled through her legs, and she exhaled against her knees, flexing her ankles to ease the cramps gripping her feet. First priority was to get warm. If not, she’d be useless. Her internal organs would start shutting down regardless of whether or not the people who’d kidnapped her meant to let her die in this hole.
She wasn’t letting that happen. Tipping her head back, she repeatedly blinked to bring her surroundings into focus. Not until she’d somehow gotten to Xander. Until she’d apologized for the secrets she’d kept and for putting him through such hell.
If she’d just been honest with him from the very beginning, there was every chance they could’ve stopped this from happening. Gone on the offensive and been the first to attack. Her hand to God, if she ever got back to him, she’d happily repeat any compliments he gave her for the rest of her life.
A rectangle of yellow light spanned a section of the concrete floor above her head, and she followed the beam toward the door. Wait. Bracing against the incoming wall of agony, she rocked back and forth, building momentum, and shoved hard with her shoulder to flip to her other side.
Excruciating pinpricks showered through her chest and hips as she landed. Curling into the fetal position, she closed her eyes and counted to ten as the sting gradually faded to a dull, persistent ache.
Okay, okay, open. She forced her lids up and internally let out a loud whoop!
Yes. They’d left her in the same room.
Good. This was good.
A few feet away stood the halogen floodlight, still plugged into the wall. If she could get close enough and somehow figure out a way to turn it on, maybe the bulb would generate enough heat she could move. Loosen her muscles. Hell, at this point, she would’ve happily earned a few blisters if the damn thing defrosted her brain enough she could decide what came next.
Come on, Charlie. Get up. It’s three feet, tops.
Another obscenity-inducing rock against the floor, and she heaved onto her knees, panting, her spine bowed and her forehead resting on the frigid concrete.
Her back muscles screamed in protest as she straightened. Her thighs shook as she rose to her knees. Chin buried in her chest, she clenched her jaw as a shriek of misery tore through her head.
God, this was a nightmare. A tear formed in the corner of her eye, leaving a chilly trail as it tumbled down her cheek. But she couldn’t give up. Xander was waiting, looking for her. She was getting back to him if it was the last thing she did on this Earth.
Shoulders stooped, muscles trembling, she lurched one step forward on her knees. She wasn’t dying in this filthy cage. Lightning tore through her body as her kneecap smacked the gritty concrete. Shit. She hobbled right and the room spun. No, no. Dammit, no!
Staggering sideways, she scrambled to regain her balance. The chafing resistance of the floor disappeared inside the slick shallow of a freezing puddle, and she slid, careening to the side as the cold hard ground rushed up to meet her face.
The wind punched from her lungs on a surge of grief as she hit the concrete. Bitter fear coated her tongue. A loud ringing pealed in her ear, hot and stinging from the way it was pinched between her cheek and the floor.
Air wheezed into her chest, scoring the back of her throat. A limp sob echoed off the walls, but the sound was far-off, muffled, and didn’t matter compared to the reality of what she’d lost.
Xander. He was the only person who mattered right now. The wish she could take back everything she’d put him through, rewind the clock to that moment he’d stood from her stoop and held her in his arms.
The stress. The worry. Making him work so damn hard when she should’ve trusted him the second she looked into his eyes.
Anything…she would’ve given anything to be that girl again. To fight with him over whether or not she was beautiful. To kiss him and get lost in the heady rush of his lips.
To talk to him. Let him know it was okay. She’d held on. Been strong.
She’d done the right thing and kept their secrets safe.
But time wasn’t on her side. Water rippled away from her mouth as another soft sob left her lips. And the harder she worked, the weaker she grew. The longer it would take for her regain enough strength to try again. With the cold constantly eating away at her, being wet and in so much damn pain, it was anyone’s guess how many attempts she had left.
A couple hours, ten minutes or a day, regardless of how long they kept her here, nothing would change. She’d still be stuck, frozen like a popsicle until Xander somehow found her lying cold and lifeless on this s
tupid, fucking floor.
Movement disrupted the light from the window, and she frowned. Keys jingled, and panic crept into her limbs, making her shake so bad, tendons cracked with bizarre little pings all over her body.
Shit, they were coming back. And there was nowhere for her to hide. If they beat her again, she’d never survive.
Clenching her teeth, she tucked her shoulder into the water and forced her body onto its side. The door swung open, and that same bald bastard who’d smacked her around strode into the room.
Kicking his ankles, she tried to trip him up, but he easily side-stepped her legs and seized her arm. A wave of nausea washed through her stomach as he wrenched her to her feet. “You got a phone call.” Her brain scrambled as he gave her a violent shake. “Say anything about your accommodations and you’re dead. You hear me?”
She tripped over her own feet as he half-shoved, half-dragged her into a tiled hallway.
Heat bathed her skin as they crossed a corridor leading off in either direction. Around several corners, and he steered her toward a closed metal door.
Sighing in relief, Charlie flexed her numb fingers in the small of her back, trying to soak in as much warmth as possible.
A twist of the knob, and he pushed open the hinges to reveal a narrow, wood-paneled office. At the far end sat a cheap metal desk, the leather chair behind it swiveled so the back faced the room, and a single folding chair waited between two walls filled with computer equipment and rusty filing cabinets.
“She’s here.” The same distorted voice that had come from behind the light announced her arrival, but Baldy spun her around and slammed her in the seat before she had the chance to see who owned it. “One moment.”
The voice grew louder as if whoever was in charge had faced the room. An itchy wool blanket hit her shoulders, and she shivered as Baldy set the caged orange coils of a space heater in front of her legs. “You stutter one time and I’ll put a bullet in your head.”