by Dale Mayer
Finally.
“How is she doing back there?”
She closed her eyes, letting her arm fall back in the position it had been in as the seats creaked with movement.
“She’s the same. Out cold.”
“She should be waking up soon. How hard did you knock her out?”
“Hardly. Besides, if she died we could just ditch her. So much easier.”
“Not until we find out who the hell she told.”
“Just the couple of guys she was with.”
“Maybe, and if so, who the hell were they? No one gets away like they did. There had to be some training there. And if that’s the case we need to know.”
“Why, we’ll be in and out and the job done before anyone realizes.”
“But training means they are likely law enforcement or military.”
“So? They have the gun cache so you know both are going to be brought in.” He shrugged. “Makes no difference if there are one or two extra.”
“But what if they saw us? The best way is in and out, but that only works if no one is waiting for us.”
“True.”
She heard the sound of vinyl seats as the man shifted again. She could imagine the scary dude leaning over to take a closer look. Thankfully her hair had fallen over her face so he shouldn’t be able to see her eyes or the tear tracks on her cheeks.
“She’s out. So until she wakes up there’s nothing any of us can do.”
“We’ll wake her up. No worries there.”
And he laughed. A laugh that let her know she wouldn’t have the luxury of sleeping through whatever they had planned. They were going to get their answers no matter what.
*
“We need a better way to track these guys.”
“Mason is looking for details on the dead man, identified as Stan Slater. He’s the one they killed and left behind.”
“Known associates?” Shadow asked.
“Yeah, coming up on screen now.”
Hawk’s cell phone showed several men. He flicked through each, taking a long look to make sure he re-membered the features in case he stumbled across them. On the last one, he stopped. “This was the second guy that came with Stan.”
Shadow reached out a hand for the phone. He took a long look and shook his head. “Never seen him.”
“He’s one of them.” Hawk quickly responded to Mason, knowing he’d widen the search for this guy’s associates. In the meantime he’d forward the email to Swede ahead of them.
“The more we find…”
“Aha,” Hawk said as a second email came in from Mason. “The second man has an F 350.”
“Good. License plate?”
“He’s got one and is sending out the alert.”
“Excellent.” They pulled into a gas station. While Shadow filled up, Hawk walked inside. “Hey, we’re tra-velling with a couple of friends but seem to have lost them, did a black F 350 come in a little while ago?”
“Maybe, a big black rig came by about an hour ago. They filled up and paid at the pump. Never came in he-re.”
Hawk nodded. “That might have been them. Good to know. Two of them?”
“Yeah, looked like it. Not real friendly. I was watching, just trying to keep an eye on them like I’m supposed to, but one glared at me something fierce. Hard to believe he’s got any friends.”
“Yeah, he’s got a chip on his shoulder a mile wide. Doesn’t like people much.”
“The damn brush cut makes him look military, but with that attitude. He wasn’t no homeboy. Merc all the way.”
Hawk stayed and chatted for a few moments longer, bought a couple of cups of coffee and walked back to the truck to tell the others.
“Good,” Shadow said. They switched places so Hawk was now driving. “It’s likely to be them.”
Hmm. “He couldn’t identify them other than a nasty visage of contempt for the general humanity at large.”
“Nice. Then terrorists often do have a sense of superiority or condemnation for their fellow man. But to blow up the Golden Gate Bridge…”
“Mason’s on that. The dead man’s residence is being searched right now. The bridge is being searched right now. Security detail around the clock.”
“It’s a long span. Easy to hide underneath and cause a lot of damage.”
“True.”
The conversation continued as they backed out different options and theories. An hour out of California, they stopped for gas again. This time the questions didn’t offer any progress. They headed to the hotel Mason had set up. Hawk stood on the deck outside. He couldn’t help but worry about Mia. Where was she?
They had to find her. And soon. These men had an agenda. But why her?
As the darkness became complete, he stood, frustration eating at him. Swede walked over. “We’ll find her. She’s strong. She’ll do what needs to be done. She’ll know we’re coming.”
He nodded. “We are coming. She just has to hold on.”
Chapter 12
Mia was hauled out of the truck and dumped. When her head connected with the hard ground, she saw stars. Again. Where was she? With her eyes open she could see a large warehouse, plank floor and shadows. Plenty of shadows. She let her eyes drift closed as the voices continued around her.
“We need to check in.”
“I just texted them.”
“Should call them instead.”
“Then call them.” Short disinterested. She wondered at their relationship. More business than friends. Comrades maybe. United by a cause. Blow up the Golden Gate Bridge. Just the thought of what the people in San Francisco could face in the next few days horrified her. There had to be hundreds of people on that bridge at any one time. Closer to thousands in rush hour.
Why would terrorists choose that target?
Why would they think it would make a difference? Except to make everyone hate terrorists that much more. Who won in a scenario like this? Acts of terrorisms only spread hate, fear and increased violence.
No one won. Worse, the losers counted in the thousands. Loss of innocence. Fear of what had once been normal. Of what had been comfortable.
She felt sorry for the people in the city. No one understood the dangers lurking under the surface of their seemingly easy, fun lives. It wasn’t something anyone could dwell on. It was too horrible. Better to focus on the good things and let the rest go. There was too much to worry about so better to turn your back on the worry and do your best to live as well as possible.
At least that was as far as she could figure out for herself. She needed to find a level of peace with the darkness lurking outside her world.
Now in her world.
If she survived, she knew the world wouldn’t be the same. How could it be? No one returned to the place they were before a horrific event. It wasn’t like they could wipe it all away. As much as they might want to, they couldn’t. They were forever changed by the new circumstances in their life. Just like she would be.
She’d never looked at a big black pickup like this one and not wonder if that driver was the same one who’d kidnapped her. Would she ever drive over the Golden Gate Bridge without being terrified of it blowing up beneath her wheels? And caves…… She’d had a hard time going into those damn depths before, although she’d done her best to keep it to herself. What was she going to do now? She’d have to force herself back inside.
She couldn’t let other people suffer because of her failures.
“Should have dumped her in the caves.”
“Might still.”
She closed her eyes, a shudder running down her spine. Buried alive in a cave system that went on forever. God…what a horrible death. Not easy and it sure as hell wouldn’t be quick.
“Right.”
“The prick is on the way.”
She froze. Who was that? And why?
“Good. He can get rid of her. She’s a liability.”
“Maybe. It’s what it is.”
“Stupid is what it is,” but th
e voice was fading, the footsteps carrying him further away.
She wanted to roll over and ease the pain in her shoulders, but there wasn’t any direction to roll. She was beside a stack of packs. Army green and stuffed with God only knew what. Her gaze landed on the knife in the back of the packs. Could she reach it? Could she use it? Without being seen?
She shifted into a sitting positions so she was leaning back against the bags. She couldn’t feel the knife edge against her waist. In her mind, she reoriented herself with the layout of the bag so she could shift as needed. She’d only get one chance.
Wiggling her butt backwards until she came up against the packs, her fingers frantically searched for the knife behind her.
Finally her fingers touched something cold. She slipped the pocketknife out of the pack.
“What the hell do we have here?”
The voice stood in front of her. She froze. She’d been so focused on getting the knife, she hadn’t heard him approach.
Her arm was roughly grabbed and she was lifted to her feet. Feet that could barely hold her. In fact as soon as she put her weight on them, she sagged in place.
Shit.
But her fingers still held the pocketknife. In the confusion of trying to stand, she managed to get the knife into her back pocket. Success. The same man who’d attacked her and shoved her into the truck dragged her to the far side of the warehouse. She tried to look around, but all she could see were boxes and crates. Off to the left, there were several tables full of tools. In the center was a large pallet with huge jugs of liquid, but she had no idea what they were or what they could be used for.
“Interested?” He laughed. “No worries. We might just tie you up to that bomb and make you the main at-traction.”
Ice flooded her veins and she stumbled.
“Bloody hell.” He pulled hard, jerking her off her feet. She tripped and went down, the fall forcing a startled cry out of her. With another hard tug, he half dragged, half shoved her into a corner and said, “You can watch from there.”
She rolled onto her back and tried to catch her breath as pain radiated down every bone in her body. She wanted to sit up where she could keep watch on what they were doing, but her body still wouldn’t work properly. Whatever he’d done had left a lasting impression. There was a wall a few feet away. With effort she rolled over until she was leaning up against it.
There in the shadows of the darkness, she listened to what – water close by – lapping against the wall. And she realized they were on the docks somewhere. A warehouse on the water, maybe the bay was under her. She knew they were in San Francisco from what she’d been able to figure out. The docks also made sense, but how was she to identify it further than that?
She peered between the boards and watched the water ripple below her. Amazing. She’d take her chances in the water if she could get there. Anything to get away from the men. Peering around, she realized they were busy working on something in the middle of the room. She could see stacks of small green bricks but had no clue what they were. Or indeed what the rest of the items in the warehouse were.
There had to be a way out of here. Maybe if she was ever left alone. Maybe when the prick got here. Whoever the hell that was.
A truck pulled up in the front. “About damn time he got here,” one of the men muttered.
“Watch it. Don’t you let him hear you say that,” the other man warned. “Nothing can screw up now.”
“I hear you but we’re doing all the damn work.”
They waited for the new arrival to join them in the warehouse. She heard his voice first. Then his face moved into view and almost laughed. He was well named. The Prick, Tom Channel. Rich asshole, and the father of the punk kid, Travis, forever hounding her at the store – and anywhere where he could catch her. She was no fool and had been avoiding him for years. Her father knew about the problem. When Tom came looking to buy the store, her father had no trouble refusing. Particularly when Tom said he’d likely give the business to his son.
That was more than her father could stand. And as she now recalled, there was talk of buying some forty acres of hillside behind his place that her father owned as well. There were a few caves in there, but so far her father had held out. She knew he could use the money – in a big way – but he didn’t want to sell off the acreage.
She understood. Tom Channel hadn’t.
And from the look on his face, he was looking forward to having a talk with her. She thought her memory was dredging up bits and pieces about him having a military background then going into politics. That was the thing she didn’t understand. He fit the politic role perfectly. Slimy used car salesman dressed up to go to town. That part she could see in every line of his face – the military background now – that was a whole different story. She figured if he’d actually been in the military, chances were good he’d washed out.
As in all the way out.
*
Hawk paced the room. They’d received word of a potential sighting of the truck in the city by the docks. He wanted to go down now and look for it. For her. Local police were looking for it.
More intel was coming in, but in tiny drips and drabs. And if there was one thing he wasn’t good at, it was waiting.
He wanted to do something.
Shadow said, “The city just reported back no unusual activity.”
“They can’t consider the search done yet,” he exclaimed. “That’s a massive area.”
“They aren’t done but have gone through the areas that were designated as most likely.” Shadow’s voice was full of…well shadows. He walked with one foot in the darkness. “I’ve contacted a couple of guys. See if they’ve heard any rumors.”
“If the guys are any good, they should have heard a whisper of something released. That whisper isn’t going to get a happy reception. It’s one thing to be part of a terrorist cell if you’re not part of the community and don’t care. But that bridge is a major hub. Losing it is going to make life impossible.”
“The cell won’t care.”
“No, but anyone who hears the rumors will.” And that played well into their hands. No one was going to let this happen. It could be them on the bridge.
Shadow’s phone buzzed. He scrolled through the texts then slipped a little away and called his contact.
Hawk listened with only half an ear. But something caught his attention. He turned and walked closer.
“What type of equipment?” Shadow said into the phone.
Shadow frowned, his gaze going to Hawk. “We talking C4 or chemicals?”
“You’re sure about that?” Shadow asked. “Okay. We’ll check it out.”
“What’s up?” Hawk asked when he ended the call.
“This guy saw a panel van make several deliveries to a warehouse. A forklift moved pallets of explosives out to the warehouse. He’d been casing the place beside it. He’d been inside when he thought the van was approaching, so he’d slipped out the back and into the next one. And that was when he saw them unloading, using a forklift. Said the place was set up with tables, extra lights and a lot of electrical equipment. He knows nothing about bomb equipment, but something there had his back freezing.”
“Any sign of Mia,” Hawk asked in a tight voice.
“He didn’t mention a prisoner. Said it wasn’t set up with a long term appearance, but they were comfortable as if it had been there for weeks at least.”
“But no sign of a hostage?”
“I’m asking him.” Shadow turned slightly away and spoke to his informant again. “What time of day and was there a woman there?”
“Early this morning and no woman.” The informant’s voice rose.
“Right. If it’s the same group, they’ve taken a woman prisoner. We need to know if they still have her or if they have dumped her along the way.”
Hawk’s throat closed. He struggled to swallow the hard truth. But he knew it was well within the realm of possibility she’d been thrown out like garba
ge.
“Right.” Shadow frowned. “We’re going to be doing the same. Stay in touch.”
He closed the phone and turned to face Hawk. “He’s going to go back down and take a look.”
“Is that wise?” Hawk didn’t want anyone mucking up the plans. And he had no intention of listening to his orders to stay put. He was heading down there in a few minutes. He just didn’t want Shadow’s contact to get in the way.
“No, but he’s planning to finish the job he was working on when he got sidetracked.”
“Right. Of course he is.” Hawk snorted. “Once a thief, always a thief.”
Shadow smiled. “Yeah, but for the moment he’s our thief.”
“Let’s go.”
Chapter 13
The blow came from left field. She moaned as it cracked against her head. Again. Then the question came. Again.
“Tell us who the men are?”
She gave the same answer she’d given every other time. “I have no idea who they were.”
The words never stopped. The same words came at her over and over again. How many men? Who were the men? Why these men? Were they military? What military?
Time rolled on and the pain rolled on. Nothing stopped them. Her face swelled, her lips cracked. Her tongue could barely move. Her eyes swelled shut. Her head boomed from the blows. Her shoulders were close to being dislocated from the socket. Every blow jerked her to the side. The pain radiated down her body in never-ending waves.
Hawk, where are you, she whispered in her head. If it’s not too much bother, please…help.
She closed her eyes, willing the darkness take her.
Just as she was about to find the joy of the silence, cold water splashed in her face. She gasped and cried out in shock.
“What the hell is wrong with her?”
“No idea. Not normal. Normally the women are blubbering uncontrollably by now.”
“Some kind of code of honor. Oh well. She’ll break at one point.”
It would be her body that would break. Actually it already had. She figured her collarbone for sure. Only the pain didn’t stop there. It just radiated throughout her fingertips. She wasn’t going to last much longer before she lost consciousness again.