She’s looking around her like she’s trying to figure out where she is. She tests her restraints ever so slightly. She knows she can’t get away from them.
The door opens and I watch as another guard walks in, followed closely by Katsu.
“Anna. It’s good to see you alive. It’s been a few days.” The fucker looks amused by the whole situation. I only just realize I’ve been holding my breath the entire time. I let it out and keep watching the screen, not knowing what to expect from this scenario.
“How long have I been out, Katsu?” Anna’s pissed off with Katsu and I can tell by her demeanor that if her hands are released, she will kill him and everyone who’s come in contact with her.
“Four days,” he answers her as he drags the chair over to the side of the bed.
I’m not sure what the fuck he’s doing, but he’s running his hands around her throat. Fuck me! He’s choking her, but Anna isn’t fighting it, she’s laying back and taking his cruel punishment.
“What were you doing at the building, Anna?” Anna’s face is flushed red and I’m being forced to witness to him killing her slowly. My heart rate increases; I just can’t watch this. He lets out a small chuckle and releases her throat, but keeps his hands close to her neck. “I can make you hurt so much more, treasure.” He emphasizes the word ’treasure’, it must’ve been his pet name for her.
I’m leaning into the screen, hoping it can magically open up and transport me to where she is, so I can protect her and get her the fuck out of there. It feels like this exchange with Katsu’s been going on for hours but in fact, it’s been only moments.
“I’m sure you can, honey.” Anna’s now stepped into a new realm of angry. I’ve only ever seen her like this when she pointed a gun at my head and threatened to shoot me if I didn’t make a promise to her.
“What were you doing at the building, Anna?” That fucker’s strangling her again, but Anna gives him nothing.
“It doesn’t matter,” she chokes out.
“Come on, Baby, fight. Don’t let him win,” I’m screaming at the laptop and my hands are fisting through my hair. I get up and start pacing in front of the computer, too afraid to look away, but not wanting to watch him kill her either. Please baby, just fight. Please. For me.
He releases her again. This is a dangerous game he’s playing with her. He must know who she is. What does he possibly stand to gain from this encounter?
“I tell you what, Katsu, why don’t you release me and even the playing field?” There’s my girl, showing no signs of intimidation or fear.
“So you aren’t going to tell me what I need to know, Anna Moore? If your name is Anna Moore? But I’ve a special little bedtime story to tell you. It involves a certain young man by the name of Ben Pearson”
Wait…. What the fuck. Me?
“Are you hearing this, Agent?”
“And recording it,” Agent replies.
“What happened to Claire?” Anna’s voice is now small and uncertain.
“Yes, Miss Claire…where should I start. Well, the bomb was in her room so of course she’s dead. I knew if I could capture one of the Pace family leaders, the other would try to rescue her.”
Fuck me.
He knows about us. But he hasn’t mentioned Emily. Maybe Emily’s safe.
“Pace family leaders?” Anna’s voice is tiny, almost non-existent “Claire?” she questions in a state of disbelief.
Fuck. Now Anna knows who I am.
“Ben?” Agent’s voice brings me back to reality. “Is that true?”
“Yes. I was going to tell her.” Am I trying to justify it to Agent or myself?
Anna’s body completely slumps against the bed. Her head rolls to the side and I don’t have a view of her beautiful face. I can just imagine the shock and the heartache she must be feeling. It must feel like the ultimate betrayal to her.
“You didn’t know who he is? Oh dear, you were fucking the enemy and didn’t even know it.” Katsu starts laughing. This angers me even more, but I can’t do anything about it. Yet.
“Release the papers, Agent. Send them to the CIA and FBI. If the Yakuza don’t catch up with him, I will.”
A chill’s rising rapidly through my body as I watch a rubber strap go around Anna’s arm. That dirty fucker’s going to get her addicted to a drug. My body’s shaking as I sit by helplessly and watch. Fury’s filling my head. My teeth are clenched together and my hands are bunched into fists.
More words are exchanged and Anna’s mask has totally overtaken her now. She’s in assassin mode. She’s no longer Anna Brookes; now she’s 15. She’s doing what she must to survive until she can seize control.
In this moment, I assess my life and my future.
I make a fundamental decision.
I’m no longer Ben Pearson, St. Cloud Police Chief.
I’ve just resigned my career as a law enforcement officer.
Now I take my birth name and the leadership role that’s rightfully mine.
From this moment on, Ben Pearson is dead. Now, I am Ben Pace.
“Understand one thing before you inject me with whatever you have in that,” Anna starts.
Katsu comically interrupts her; “Heroin,” he casually says to her.
“You best be looking over your shoulder because I’ll find you, and when I do, it’ll give me pleasure to watch you scream my name as you beg for mercy.” Anna isn’t speaking anymore–15 is. “Just remember that,” she adds in her icy tone.
“Anna, you’ll be on the other side of the world. Good luck finding me.” He stabs the syringe into her arm and immediately her head rolls to the side and she loses all control of her body, which surrenders to the contamination flowing through her veins.
Anna murmurs something but I manage to hear, “I’ll find you again.” And even in a drug induced haze, she still manages to sound deadly and menacing.
Immediately the door opens and another man walks in.
He starts speaking, but I can’t quite pick out the accent. Is he English, Australian or maybe from New Zealand? I’m not quite sure. He and Katsu stare at my Anna and make comments about money and her body.
Relax Ben, just take it in and relax. I’ll deal with them one by one.
One of the guards releases her from the straps that secured her to the filthy bed. He picks Anna up and tosses her over his shoulder, his hands way too close to her ass. Keep your hands to yourself, fucker.
He walks out of the door with her, and Anna’s gone from the room, gone from the screen. She’s gone.
“Agent, do you know where they’re going?”
“I’m working on it, Ben. As soon as I know I’ll call you.” The call’s disconnected.
I stand and walk around the cabin, my hands on my head as I try to think about what I’ve just witnessed and how to attack them.
I’m going to need Emily. Agent does what he does behind a screen. And I don’t trust anyone else but Emily. I didn’t want to involve her, but I can’t do this alone and I need her assistance.
I dial her number.
“Emily I need your help.”
“Anything for you, big brother.” I go on to explain how I need her with me, but I haven’t got a destination yet.
I look at the clock and I’ve been pacing for thirty-five minutes, the phone rings and I touch my Bluetooth.
“I know which state they’re taking her to. Ben, you’ll need a passport.”
A passport? Where the fuck is she?
“I need two passports, Agent.” I quickly gather my thoughts “Can you arrange them?”
“Who for?”
“Myself and Emily, my sis…”
“Yes, your sister. Emily and Thomas Walker, currently in hiding, residential address 553 Clyburn Drive, Salt Lake City.”
What the fuck?
“When did you find that out?” I question.
Fuck, Agent really is good if he’s able to access that information.
“I have her driver’s license
photo; I’ll make her a passport with it. They’ll be out to you tomorrow. You’ll be under an alias.”
“Okay, I’ll expect them tomorrow. Agent, where’s Anna? Where are we going to save her from?”
“Ben, they’re shipping her off to…”
Anna
They keep injecting me with that shit. Not enough to overdose me, but enough to keep me compliant and make me crave it. I don’t know who ‘they’ are yet, but when I figure it out, they’ll be on my short list. That list is growing and I’ll have more than a few people to kill before I can get back to my life with Ben. Wait…there’s no more ‘Ben and me’. I have nothing to go back to.
Everything Ben told me was a lie.
Everything.
I want to hate him; I want to feel deceived. But I just can’t bring myself to feel anything but love for him, no matter what information he held back from me.
The shakes are starting to set in and my senses are clouding over. Shit, I need another hit.
“I need some more,” I yell out to whoever’s listening.
My arms are tied behind my back and my legs are bound together at the ankles. I’m still being moved somewhere. I’m not sure where, only that I’ve been in transit for a while. I can’t sense time or days or even light or dark. I’ve been kept in a constant narcotic haze and just when my body starts righting the wrong, more poison is pumped back into my arm, catapulting me further and further into addiction.
A door opens and I realize I’m still in the van. It’s not moving any longer.
It’s bright outside. And warm. The heat from the sun is intense and the rays immediately burn the exposed skin of my legs.
Sun?
It’s nearly winter in St. Cloud, the snow will be falling soon, coating everything in a perfect blanket of white where it will stay until spring’s golden rays will eventually liquefy it.
If the sun’s hot and there’s no snow covering the ground, where am I?
“She’s gonna be a mighty fine earner.” One of the men grabs onto the rope that’s restraining my ankles and drags me out the back of the van. I get slung over his shoulder and into the hot, humid air.
My eyes are trying to focus through the drug-induced itching and shakes the withdrawal is causing.
I’m trying to look around to see my surroundings and figure out which state I’m in.
Wait…is that?
Holy fucking shit.
Did I just catch a glimpse of…
The Sydney Opera House.
I’m in Sydney, Australia.
Far from the end.
But…
OPHELIA
First Chapter
The bathroom’s all fogged up from the hot shower I just took. I stand in front of the mirror that I’ve clumsily wiped of steam with the back of my hand.
I look at myself and then back to the laminated picture that’s been shoved under the steel frame edging the bathroom mirror.
The exhaust fan isn’t working very well. It’s making a screeching sound that tells me it needs replacing. The light in the bathroom’s nice and bright and I can see my reflection in the steam-streaked mirror.
I compare myself to her, the woman in the photo. We have the same hair. We have the same eyes. My body’s more curvy then hers, though. But you can definitely see we’re related.
I never knew her, but I found this photo on an assignment I was investigating. I couldn’t believe it when I found out the connection. But studying the picture, you could certainly see the resemblance.
However, now I had a problem.
Ben was gone. He left to find Anna.
They were not going to be impressed that I’d managed to lose two very important people.
I was heading in to speak to them about my situation as soon as I was ready. They were waiting for me.
The moment Ben left, I called them and told them he was missing, and they told me I had two hours to get myself down to the office. I had no choice but to go and present them with what I’d been able to ascertain in the last few hours.
I’d remained in contact with my superiors, per regulations, about all the information I had gathered.
I wasn’t able to track Ben’s phone because he’d left it in his office. His car remained at his house so the tracking device wasn’t showing his current location, only the whereabouts of the stationary vehicle. When I went searching through his home to see if I could find where he was, I found nothing. I searched that place from top to bottom and found no evidence to lead me to either him or Anna.
Anna was suspected of being involved with the Yakuza through her association with Katsu Vang.
But now Katsu was gone, Anna was gone, and Ben was gone, too. This was a huge mess.
I get dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved shirt and Converse sneakers. I don’t want to bring attention to myself if I’m seen by any of the people from St. Cloud PD. I pull my hair into a low bun and flip my hood up over my head. I can’t risk being recognized. I still have too much to do and need to go back to the PD to continue working.
I get on my bike and ride over to the ordinary, nondescript, multi-story building hidden behind the main street in Plymouth. The building is uninviting and doesn’t draw attention. The number on the front of the premises is as plain as the rest of the establishment. If you were driving by you wouldn’t give this place a second look.
I ride down to the garage door and press the button. The security camera remotely moves to capture my face, but my helmet is still on.
“Remove your helmet,” the male hum-drum voice announces from the small speaker near the garage door. I remove my helmet and flip my hood down and look directly into the camera. The garage door automatically opens and I ride through to a spot I see near the elevators. I hear the slow, rickety sound of the garage door closing behind me.
Once I’m off my bike, I sling the helmet over the handle bar and look around the parking lot and notice there’re only a few cars in here. I spot the car I’m dreading to see the most. My boss’s. I know this isn’t going to go well.
I make my way over to the elevator and I press the only button available, to go up. The elevator door pings open and I step inside. The door closes on its own, and I don’t need to press any buttons because there are only two floors this elevator services. The floor it takes to me to today, is the floor I’m dreading.
The door opens with that distinctive ping that announces I’ve arrived. I step out, turn to my right and head down the corridor.
I head to the last room with the double doors. I stand outside and try to calm my body before I go into the aggressive interrogation I suspect is waiting for me behind the large, stained oak doors.
I knock twice and I hear someone yell, “Come in.”
I steady my breath and push the double doors open. I take three steps to enter the room. The doors close slowly behind me, creating a small flow of air that gently sways the loose strands of hair that have escaped my bun, sending a tingle down my spine.
I glance around and see six people sitting at the large conference table, four men and two women. They stop their conversation and all eyes are on me. I recognize each of them. Coffee cups and half-drunk bottles of water are sitting on the table. Two of the men have loosened their ties and the two women have their suit jackets off, slung over the chair behind them. They look like they’ve been here a while. There are papers strewn all over the table and there are photos up on the wall to my left. I stand silently and wait to be addressed.
“Special Agent Ophelia Petrov, we’re so glad you can join us. Special Agent Tyler Lewis has joined us, as you can see. Can you please fill us in on the latest developments in the Ben Pearson case?” FBI Assistant Director Lomax begins what I fear will be a long and exhausting process of questions they expect me to answer.
I glance over at Tyler, who had infiltrated Katsu Vang’s entourage and has been sharing information with me since we found out Ben and Anna were involved with each other.
I take a dee
p breath and compose myself.
I push everything else out of my mind.
I push that picture jammed in the steel edge of my bathroom mirror out of my mind, for now.
I’ll find her killer and bring that person to justice.
I let her name make its appearance one last time until after I deal with the whole Ben Pearson situation.
I will avenge your death.
Be patient.
I’ll find your killer.
I wish I knew you before you were taken from me.
You’ll always have love from me, your daughter.
I’ll love you forever my dearest mother, my dearest Natalia.
HiT to Live ~ The Finale
In the conclusion to the Anna Brookes saga, Ben and his sister Emily, with the help of Agent rescue Anna. For Anna and Ben, it’s time to settle scores…and a time for the truth between them. From Sydney to the Philippines and back to the States, they take care of business. But a helpful stranger enters Anna’s life, revealing more secrets…and a plan that Anna wants no part of. Can Anna and Ben shed their old lives and start a new one together, or will Anna’s new-found family ruin their chances at a happily-ever-after?
Ophelia
“Are you going to take a seat, Special Agent Petrov?” FBI Assistant Director Lomax growls at me.
“Yes, Sir.”
I take my seat next to Special Agent Tyler Lewis.
“How are you doing, Ophelia?” he whispers as I sit next to him.
“Ahem.” Director Lomax’s pointed scowl warns me to shut up and sit perfectly still. “Tell us what you found out about Ben Pearson.”
“Sir, Ben Pearson is still an enigma. He’s a private person at work. Every advance I’ve made toward him, he shot down. Other than his affair with Anna Moore, I couldn’t tell you anything about him. He crosses every T and dots every I, Sir.”
“Impossible,” the Director grumbles. “How can the police chief have no idea about such a huge drug operation right under his nose in St. Cloud? And that his executive assistant was a dirty fucking cop who just disappeared into thin air?” His angry question is a rhetorical one. Still, all of us sitting at the table lower our gazes to avoid his glare.
The HiT Series Page 43