The Analyst (Emily Lee Series Book 1)
Page 12
Emily felt her phone vibrate against her leg. She slowed to a jog and checked the screen. Private number, it said.
Swiping along the bar, she answered her phone. “Yeah.”
“I should’ve shot you when I had the chance,” a man replied, his accent thick, sounding similar to the one who’d called her earlier.
“Why didn’t you?” Emily looked around; she was alone.
“You’ve got some fight in you.”
“You would too if someone attacked you.”
“Your family, how are they? Their hearts still beating?”
“Did you have something to do with it?” Emily kept walking.
“Innocent lives cannot be helped. They’re casualties of war.”
“You bastard.”
“I’ve been called worse.” His laugh was evil, sending chills down Emily’s back.
The caller continued. “I’ll take that as a compliment. That bullet was meant for you.”
“How did you know where I live?”
“I have my eyes. Remember Brian? It’s amazing what he can find.”
Emily ignored the last comment. “How do you sleep at night?”
“Quite nicely, thank you for asking.”
“The farmers. Their families. Their livelihoods. You’ve broken them.”
“If they’re broken after a little tussle, they were never going to make it through the long haul.”
“Who made you god?”
“My investors. It’s their interests I have in mind.”
His accent was growing thicker, almost breaking into his native tongue.
“Don’t you have enough cows in China?”
“The grass is greener on the other side of the fence.”
Emily could hear muffled chuckles on the other end. Was she on speaker phone? Were there others in there?
“The last forced acquisition, that’s what's going to trip you up,” Emily yelled into her phone. “And I hope everyone with you there has heard that loud and clear.”
Emily hung up the call.
She felt the anger grow inside her. Her cheeks were burning. She waved her hand in front of her face, trying to cool herself down, but it wasn’t working.
Time was ticking away, quickly. She picked up her jog towards the city square when her phone rang again.
Answering it, she yelled, “Seriously? Where do you get off?”
“Lee? It’s Schultz. You good?” She could hear the concern in his voice.
“Yeah.” She stopped in some shade from a neighboring tree. “Just had another call from them.”
“I’ll get my people onto it again. See if we can find out anything.”
“Not sure what use it’ll be. They’re using a private number.”
“You’ll be surprised what they can find.”
“He confirmed my sister and niece were innocent casualties today. I was their intended target.”
“Right. You need to go into protective custody. Now.”
She heard Schultz click his fingers. He was probably directing them to listen in on the phone call or order them to track her number.
“No, I have a bombing to-”
Emily felt something grab her around her shoulders and pull her back.
“You’re going to pay,” she yelled at them as her arms were wrenched back.
Another man approached from the rear and shoved some fabric in her mouth then wrapped a length of material around her mouth and secured it at the back of head.
She kicked and swung her shoulders around but they pulled her arms back farther. In the commotion, she was able to slide her phone into her back pocket.
Her screams came out muffled.
The kidnappers pulled her backwards; it was all she could do to keep from tripping up with the speed they were dragging her.
With the next step, she felt herself being lifted higher than she was expecting. She landed with a loud thump on what looked like a van floor. Dazed, she lifted herself up onto all fours, noting with relief that her hands had not been tied back, but was kicked down by a masked man.
Three men huddled in around her and the van accelerated as they slid the door shut.
Speeding down the street, Emily tried to sit up but a boot connected with her stomach. Twice. Huddled over, her arm protecting her stomach, she tried to look up at her attackers.
A loud slap echoed through the van. Her head swung sideways and she felt her cheek warm.
Collapsing in a heap, she used the movements of the speeding vehicle to shuffle backwards until her back touched the van’s wall and she could see their eyes poking through their balaclavas.
Every time the van hurtled around a sharp corner, Emily was thrown around the floor. Bruised and battered, she became disorientated after the first few corners.
“You going to be quiet back there?” the passenger in the front seat asked.
Her eyes apologetic, Emily slowly nodded her head.
He stared at her through the mirror for what felt like ages before he said, “Very well. Boys, remove her gag. Be careful, she might bite.”
They chuckled. The one near her kept himself at arm’s length away from her and untied her gag. Emily wiped her mouth on her top.
They traveled in silence, the turns becoming less frequent. A highway or a major road, she thought.
Emily eyed the door then the attacker sitting alongside the door, who was staring down at her. The corner of his lips was turned up into an evil smile.
“You’re a fighter. Just like your daddy.” He slid his leg in front of the door.
Keeping her eyes focused on him she swung her legs around, aiming for his head. A few centimeters from his face, her foot stopped. She was stunned. She went to move her leg again but the grip around her ankle tightened. Emily flinched before relaxing her leg.
Without a word, the other masked man pulled her arms behind her and she felt them being bound together.
“A fighter here, boss,” he said as he finished tying her hands up.
The driver turned around and winked at Emily. One of his front teeth was missing. Emily wriggled and kicked the back of the driver’s seat. The van swerved a little but the driver quickly straightened it up.
“Just like her father,” the front passenger said as he looked at her through his rear-view mirror.
“You keep him out of this,” Emily hissed.
“Does he know you’re back in the country?”
Emily ignored him, turning her face away.
He chuckled. “That’s what I thought. You two will be reunited shortly. I reckon he’ll be impressed to see we’ve found his little daughter.”
The other men looked at each other before forcing a chuckle at what he’d said. She assumed he was their boss.
“What do you want with me?”
“All in good time. All in good time, my princess.”
Emily lowered her eyebrows and stared at him.
The driver nodded at one of the burly men in the back with her. He stood over her, blocking out what little sunlight was filtering in through the front window.
Then all went black.
When she regained consciousness, her face was against the van’s floor and her head was thumping between her ears. She tasted blood when she licked her parched lips.
Emily lay there in silence, exhausted and in pain, with her eyes closed. She hoped either the trip or her suffering would all be over soon.
Chapter 33
The van came to a complete stop and the door slid open. Emily’s body felt limp and sore, and she no longer had the strength to fight. They heaved her from the van and dumped her on a concrete floor, jarring her side.
“Get up,” a gruff voice with a Central European accent demanded as he untied her bound arms.
Emily felt something small prod her in the back. A gun barrel? It was too narrow to be a boot.
Mustering every inch of strength left in her body, she tried to get up onto all fours. She wobbled there for a moment before coll
apsing back onto the cold concrete floor. Its coolness gave Emily a small reprieve from her suffering, but it was short lived. She received another prod in the back, this time stronger than the first.
“Get up.”
Another prod.
Emily groaned, grimacing as she crawled up onto her hands and knees.
“You wanna end your life like your mother did? You stay there any longer and you will.”
Emily recognized this voice. She turned her head towards it as she staggered up onto her feet.
“Uncle Fu?” Emily closed her eyes, grasping for air. “What... I don’t-”
“Don’t take it personally. This is business.”
“Business? It’s been...” Emily struggled through the pain in her chest to get a decent breath. “It’s been... you... all along? Why?”
“Your father warned you back in Sydney. Have you not learned a thing?” Emily tried to reply but she was interrupted by Fu, who continued, “I told your father he should’ve been more forthright with his penalty towards you.”
Fu walked slowly around her, looking her up and down while swinging an old clock on a chain. She counted the steps, three on each side, two across her front and feet.
He was now standing in front of her.
She looked up at him. He was studying his clock.
“The thing about you westerners. You value your possessions,” he waved the clock in front her, “more than family.”
Emily flinched but kept her mouth shut. She knew he was fishing for a reason to display his strength.
Looking around, she noted three sturdy men stood around her. They were all armed, and their guns were aimed at her. Their stony faces were focused on her, waiting for any reason to pull the trigger. Their camouflage pants were tucked into calf-length laced boots. Their clothing and their stance, military-like. From her angle, Emily couldn’t see if there were any emblems on their shoulders. Probably just wannabes.
Behind the armed men stood the three masked men who’d accompanied her in the rear of the van and the two in the front — the driver and the passenger.
“He always had a soft spot for you,” Fu said. He paused but continued to pace in front of her. It felt like an eternity to Emily before he spoke again. “I don’t know why he did. You’re not even blood.”
Emily spat a ball of blood-streaked saliva at his feet. Fu glanced down at his shiny black boots now splattered with spittle before looking back at her.
Before she knew what was happening, he landed a right fist across her jaw. Shocked, Emily staggered on her feet.
Holding the corner of her mouth, she ducked before the next blow could connect with her other side.
Fu stepped around her. Closing her eyes, Emily took a deep breath in, her chest screaming, and waited. In some distant corner of her mind, she was still hoping this was all a bad dream. It was insane to think that the biggest terrorist attack on Australian soil was the brainchild of her uncle.
She felt her uncle step behind her. She swung her legs out from underneath her, grimacing as her palms landed on the concrete. Her feet connected with the back of his legs. Fighting through the pain, she mustered up all the strength and pulled his legs out from under him.
The armed men took a couple of steps closer, still on guard, waiting for Fu’s command.
Fu groaned as he landed on the concrete face down. Before he knew what was happening, Emily had his arms pinned behind him.
“Get her,” he yelled as he tried to wiggle himself free.
Emily stood her ground, her arms locked around his.
“You’ll pay for killing my sister,” she hissed into his ear. “That’s right. It doesn’t matter if you’re blood or not. Family is family.”
The three men stood around them, their guns still aimed at her.
“Get her. Now,” Fu yelled.
The next thing she knew, Emily felt a piercing pain in her back. Her grip loosened and she fell to the ground. Gasping for air, she reached out for her uncle.
She must be dying, she thought as she struggled to get even the smallest amount of air into her lungs.
Fu spat at her, missing her face by a few centimeters.
“I’ll let you live. For now.”
He clicked his fingers at his armed men then again at Emily.
They moved in sync with each other. One kept his gun aimed at her while the remaining two grabbed her under her armpits, lifting her just off the ground.
Emily fought, wiggling her legs and shoulders. She received another thump across her back. Shards of pain sliced through her lungs like broken glass. She wiggled her arms to get free, but their grip tightened.
Chapter 34
Emily walked in silence from what appeared to be a disused warehouse into another open space, this time a little smaller, with new stainless-steel equipment installed — a production line of some sort.
The building was just as derelict as the room they’d left. Its windows were high up, way above eye level. They’d been blacked out, but she could glimpse some patches of sky through a few smashed ones. The only light came through the cracked or broken windows. In the center of the room sat a simple table with two chairs, one on either side.
They marched Emily over and slammed her into one of the chairs. Next, they handcuffed her arms and legs to the chair.
Emily wiggled but the chair refused to move. It was then she realized the chair had been cemented to the floor.
The armed men once again took their places around her, their guns over their shoulders and their postures relaxed, with their hands folded in front of them as if protecting their family jewels. Turning her head was uncomfortable, and Emily flinched as a stab of pain shot through her neck.
At least she’d managed to establish her travel companions were nowhere to be seen.
Turning back around, Emily faced the other empty chair in silence. The only noise now came from a few pigeons who flew out of one of the broken windows.
After a while, Emily heard a few sets of heavy footsteps and something being dragged behind her. She tried to turn her head but she was in too much pain. Keeping her head straight, she clenched and unclenched her fists, waiting.
The three men surrounding her jumped at attention. Their chests were puffed, shoulders pulled back and their hands straight down by their sides.
Emily squeezed her fists closed, then opened them before closing them again.
Four more uniformed men marched past her and stopped in a diamond formation. Emily peered at the small gap in their middle but couldn’t see past their broad shoulders. She looked down to their feet. Another set of legs, a lot smaller and frailer than theirs, was being dragged along the floor.
Two men stepped between the chair opposite her and the table. She couldn’t see past them but realized they were cuffing someone to the chair, just like they had her. The guards were bent over, their arms and shoulders moving back and forth as they worked on restraining the other unfortunate who, Emily thought, was about to get the shock of their life when they came around.
Her neck still aching, Emily looked around the best she could manage. The armed men were still standing at attention. There wasn’t any emotion on their faces as they stared down at her.
Turning back around, Emily saw the men surrounding the other chair step back to take their positions behind it. She recognized the one facing her directly. He was the driver.
A groggy moan coming from across the table brought her attention back to the occupant of the chair opposite her.
Emily studied the person. They were slender but with no muscle definition. Their hair was wild and short, and gray. She assumed he was a man by the structure of his hands. What clothing he had on him was torn and streaked with grease. He groaned again, and this time his head moved a little to the side before flopping back down.
“What on earth have you done to him?” Emily asked and looked around at the men surrounding her.
Little chuckles erupted from the four who had just secured
the man into the chair, but she got no other answer.
Emily glared at one of them, and he quickly composed himself and stood tall and stiff, like all the others.
The room was silent again.
Emily returned her attention to the prisoner across the table. He was still groaning as if in pain, his head moving a little more freely from side to side. She tried to get a look at his face but she couldn’t lean forward and his hair obscured his face completely, slumped as he was. The men behind her sniggered once or twice but she ignored them and concentrated on the man in front of her.
“Ah good, you’re both here.” Emily heard her Uncle Fu approach from behind her.
“What have you done to him?”
“A lot more than I’ve done to you.”
The man opposite her became more responsive, almost agitated, when Fu spoke.
“You’re a monster.” She spat at the ground between her and Fu.
He looked down the end of his nose to her before a smile emerged.
“It’s good to see you two finally reunited.”
Chapter 35
Emily stared at Fu, puzzled.
Fu grabbed a handful of hair and pulled the man’s head back. She gasped. “Dad?”
His face was a patchwork of different shades of blue, purple and black, and his good eye was swollen. He tried to open his eyelids but only the lid over his glass eye lifted.
“You mongrel,” she spat at Fu. “You’re lucky I’m wearing these bracelets.” The handcuffs rattled against the arm rest as Emily tried once more to free herself.
Fu cackled, sending shivers down Emily’s back. This was the uncle she’d grown up with. The loving and caring person who was always there when she felt alone. Who’d accepted her as one of their own when she was taken in by her adoptive parents. He’d now turned on his own brother, her father.
Emily quietened and stared at her broken father. The once strong man was now a worn and tired old man.
“It seems...” Fu stood behind Emily. She felt him breathing down her neck. He continued, “...you do find it hard to learn from any lesson that’s dealt to you.”