“Excuse me, miss?” he asked in a friendly tone.
Whirling around she smiled, “Yes?”
“I was wondering if you know where building C is?”
She came closer as she put her keys in her pocket, “Oh, well it’s just around…”
Without any warning, Ivan pulled out the cloth he had doused in Chlorophorm and held it over her mouth and nose. He grabbed her body, bringing it back against his as she fought him. Finally, with not much more of a scuffle, she passed out against his bulky frame. Ivan grabbed her cell phone and threw it in her car, wanting to make sure that there was no way to track her. Picking her up fireman style, he then carried her back to his car. This was just too easy.
Chapter Twelve
Brandon
8:15 had rolled around almost an hour ago and Delilah still hadn’t come home. Brandon could feel himself getting nervous. Like a caged lion, he paced the small living room, casting a glance at the romantic dinner he had managed to throw together. Even the delicious smell of the perfectly made steaks couldn’t entice him now. If anything, the smell and the burning candles almost taunted him with the intimate ambiance that they set.
“Fuck it!” Brandon bit out as he hit his limit. He knew that Delilah was prone to get sucked into her work and forget the time, but something felt off. He had been patting himself on the back for giving her space, but he just couldn’t take it anymore.
Grabbing his phone, he turned on his app that showed the location of her phone. It showed her in the parking lot. Throwing the door open, he ran down the stairs to her carport. The car was there with the phone sitting on the driver’s seat.
“Fuck! That’s not good,” Brandon bounded up the steps to the apartment, his heart hammering in his chest. It was at times like these that he hated the profession he had chosen. Putting the person he loved in harm’s way was not his idea of showing that he cared, but it seemed that the worst had happened.
Grabbing his black bag full of spy goodies, he pulled out his thin, black laptop. Powering it up, he brought up the tracking device program that let him see where all his trackers were. Delilah had no clue that the Tamagotchi key chain that he had given her so many years ago had a tracker in it. Brandon hadn’t wanted to be a creepy friend, stalking her, but he knew that in his line of business she could become a potential target. After all, she was the only person on the planet that he would follow to the ends of the earth and beyond. Even if she never seemed to notice that, he was pretty sure that his face gave his feelings away every time he looked at her.
His heart began to race when he saw the little blip of her GPS pinning her in Alameda, which was about an hour away. Something was very wrong. Clicking on the pinpoint gave him a picture of the area. The marker gave her location to be in what looked like an old, abandoned warehouse.
Brandon grabbed his phone and speed dialed his CIA handler, Olivia.
“I was wondering when you would finally check in, you dork!” she immediately teased him.
“Olivia, I need your help. Delilah…”
“Delilah, is this the girl?”
“Yes! Now…”
Olivia clicked her tongue at him. “If you’ve already pissed her off, can I suggest roses and chocolates?”
“NO! Olivia, I believe she’s been kidnapped. I need you to help me get a real time visual on where I am tracking her GPS tag,” Brandon ran a hand though his hair as he forced himself to breathe. Every moment he wasted was one moment closer to disaster for Delilah, if it hadn’t already hit her.
“On it,” Olivia switched to professional mode instantly. “What are the coordinates?”
Brandon read off the longitude and latitude as he watched like a hawk to make sure that the tracker didn’t move.
“Okay. I have visuals. Sending them to you now,” Olivia informed him just as aerial real time photos of the area came in. “I can see a black sedan in the parking lot. Zooming in to get the plates.”
“Great. I’m suiting up,” Brandon stood and started pulling on his bulletproof vest and picking up his black Beretta. Adding the silencer to it, he slid it into his holster and then threw on his jacket.
“You getting ready to go?” Olivia asked through the speaker phone.
“Yeah, I gotta go after her. I can’t wait for backup. It could be too late.”
“Alright, call me when you get there and I’ll help you work through the rooms.”
“Great. I should be there in…”
“45 minutes,” Olivia finished. “Sorry! I had Google Maps up. I’ll take care of the lights on the way to make sure you hit all greens”
“Thanks! Call you then!”
Quickly blowing out the dinner candles, Brandon then ran out the door to save his girl.
Chapter Thirteen
Delilah
As Delilah slowly began regaining consciousness, the first thing she noticed was her splitting headache. It felt like little men were inside her head, hammering away with hatchets. Grabbing her head, she was then assaulted by the stale air. It had the faint scent of fish and ocean, which proved to be a stomach churning combo. The uncomfortable surface under her squeaked as she tried to move her body. She tried to move her leg, but found that it was chained to whatever she was lying on. The memories of the man who attacked her came slamming back to her, making her careful as she slowly opened her eyes. She wanted to seem still passed out until she had a plan formulated.
Slowly opening her eyes, she saw that the room was dark. It looked like she was in a warehouse. Some distance away, she could hear men speaking in a language she didn’t understand. Cautiously lifting her head, she could see that they seemed engrossed in their card game, obviously confident that she was trapped.
Slowly, she tested the lock around her ankle, trying to get an idea of how loose it was. Not even remotely. If only I had some butter I could slip it out, like in that movie, she thought before calling herself an idiot.
Glancing back at the men, she could see that there were four of them. They all looked burly and large. The one that had taken her, sat at the little folding table playing cards so assuredly. As though he didn’t have a care in the world.
Delilah was beginning to feel panicked, but she pushed it down. That would do her no good. What would Brandon do? What would Lara Croft do? She asked herself. Probably have some sort of cool invention to get them out of this… I am so fucked. I wish Brandon were here…
Chapter Fourteen
Brandon
“You really should wait for some back-up, Brandon. I’m seeing five heat signatures in that room, which means four unknowns. One of the heat signatures appears to be away from the others. I’m assuming that’s Delilah,” Olivia informed him over his headset.
“What’s her twenty?” Brandon bit out as he strapped on another gun to his lower back and a knife in his boot.
“Back southwest side. Checking the blueprints of the building, it looks like there is an entrance all the way on the other side of the building. I don’t see a way for you to get in without them seeing you.”
“Alright then, Plan B it is,” Brandon sighed as he went to his trunk to pull out his repelling gear.
“Oh no, Brandon! You are not pulling another Innsbruck on me,” Oliva warned him with an edge to her voice.
“Oh come on, Olivia. I fell that one time in that mafia boss’ house. It wasn’t even my fault! The rope snapped. Let it go,” Brandon breathed out.
“You ended up in a snake pit and freaked out. That was the…”
“The most horrifying thing to ever happen to me. I know that I screamed like a young child, but, seriously, who has a snake pit? Can you blame me?”
“We care about you, Brandon. You are a bad ass for sure, but well, that scared all of us. To see you freak out that way, it really made us realize you are human and not a machine.”
“Gee. Thanks, Olivia. All I know is that the other agents put fake snakes in my path every time they could. I served two tours in Iraq without any pr
oblems. And I took out that mafia boss, Marchetto during that mission getting me a big pat on the back from the boss, but all anyone remembers is those damn snakes,” Brandon reminded her.
“Yeah, you did, but your emotions weren’t involved there. You’ve got the woman of your dreams on the line here.”
Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose, “Do you have to remind me every moment, Olivia? I know that. I know that I have my whole life riding on this. Without her I am fucked. Truly fucked. I need her.” The line went quiet for a moment. “Olivia? You there?”
“Sorry. You just really turned me on there for a moment. Just collecting myself,” Olivia sounded flushed.
Brandon laughed. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry about that. Okay, I’m going to climb to the roof then and then lower myself in. These places usually have big vents on the ceiling.”
“Be careful,” Oliva’s voice warned him.
“Roger that,” Brandon looked around the side of the building and saw stairs leading up to a second story entrance. The area around the warehouses was extremely dark with no lights what-so-ever, so he didn’t worry about being spotted. Obviously these guys thought that they had everything covered.
Once Brandon was at the top of the stairs, he lifted himself up on the railing and then shimmied up the drainage pipe. Pausing for a moment to catch his breath he looked out at the view of San Francisco across the bay. It looked beautiful with all its twinkling lights. It would look even better with his girl by his side.
Padding his way quietly across the top of the building, he found the skylight he had been hoping for. It was slightly open, allowing him to lift it to a point where he could lower his body through the gap. The old skylight made a creaking noise as he did so, and Brandon held his breath as he listened for any sign that the men or women below had heard him. Once he had the skylight open enough, he reached down and tied his rappelling rope around one of the rafters. Brandon then moved to sit on the rafter that was about three feet below the opening of the skylight.
Pulling out his phone, he turned it to inferred detection. He scanned the area below with it, finding the men sitting at the table easily. They weren’t hard to find with the only light on in their area and all the boisterous noise that they were making. Brandon quickly scanned the room and found that there was only one heat signature that was still set apart from the others. It had to be Delilah.
A part of him wanted to run to her and grab her, but his training kicked in. He had to think logically and methodically. He couldn’t risk her getting injured or killed in the crossfire.
Putting his phone away and pulling out his gun, Brandon started to lower himself down into the room. He almost laughed as he imagined himself looking like that one scene from Mission Impossible. Hopefully there wouldn’t be snakes at the bottom. But he had forgotten one aspect of this sort of descent, the chafing. He felt like he was maybe getting too old for this sort of thing.
Chapter Fifteen
Delilah
I have got to pee. I have got to pee. Oh my God, I have got to pee. Delilah chanted to herself as she curled into a ball. She dreaded the moment that she would have to say something, because then her captors would realize that she was awake. She was terrified at what they would do to her once they knew. But, the thought of wetting herself didn’t sound particularly appealing either, especially since she was pretty sure that they didn’t have a change of clothes for her.
I think my back teeth are actually floating. How much can the human bladder hold? “Frack,” she whispered to herself as she struggled to sit up on the smelly, old mattress. As she moved, she thought she caught a glimpse of something overhead, but her bladder needed her immediate attention.
“Ummm. Excuse me? Bad guys?” She called out. Real smart, Delilah! Calling them bad guys is sure to win them over!
The sound of a chair scraping the ground made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She felt true fear, as she knew that one of them would be next to her in just a second. Straightening herself up as much as she could, she prepared herself to make a run for it, if the opportunity arose. Delilah knew that it might not be smart to do that while she didn’t know where she was, but staying with them longer also didn’t seem like a good plan. I wish Brandon were here. He would know what to do!
“What?” He demanded in a strong Eastern European accent.
“I… uhhhh… need to… you know... pee,” She murmured.
“You need to piss?” The man asked for clarification.
“Yes,” she tried to sound meek to not let him know the rage that was building inside her. He was a large guy and she would need every ounce of luck and surprise that came her way when she tried for her escape.
The man let out a sigh and dug into his pocket, pulling out a ring of keys. Their clinging sound bounced off the cavernous warehouse, making Delilah feel even more nervous. She flexed her legs to try to get the blood flowing to them so when she stood up, she wouldn’t fall over and need to lean on him.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the man located the correct key and unlocked the lock around her ankle. The second she heard the clink of the metal unlatch her nerves shot through the roof. She tried to keep her nervous tick at bay, but before she knew it, to her horror, her mouth had started running.
“Why don’t you have some tacky futuristic clothing for me? The bad guy in the 1970’s Bond movies always gave the people he kidnapped tacky outfits, why don’t I have one? I have to be honest that I’m glad that I didn’t wake up painted gold like in Goldfinger.” Delilah found herself spitting out. Shut up, you fool! “I’m sorry! When I get nervous I tend to chatter. Like that time I almost got caught breaking into my parent’s liquor cabinet. It was a dare. I didn’t even want any. Well, you get the idea…”
Delilah’s voice trickled off as she hesitantly looked up at the goon after she had finished releasing all its verbal diarrhea, surely getting her into greater trouble later.
“Women,” the man shook his head, “You just never shut up. And it’s always about clothes. Although, you have a point with the painting gold. Get moving.” He motioned toward the back of the warehouse as he grabbed her upper arm.
“It’s really dark back there,” Delilah hesitantly noted as she slowly began walking. Her legs burned from lying down so long and her head spun, from what she assumed was the after effect of the drug.
“What are you afraid of?” The giant thug taunted, “The boogey man?”
“Isn’t that what you are?” Delilah whispered under her breath.
“Keep moving. The bathroom is on the right.”
Delilah watched the floor carefully as she walked, partly to make sure she didn’t trip and also to see if there was anything she could use on her captor. Unfortunately, there was nothing. If only I had watched more MacGyver instead of Star Trek, then I would know how to make a weapon out of my shoelace and hairband!
“In there,” he pointed to a thick door.
Delilah pried it open and turned on the light. It looked as one might expect a vacant warehouse bathroom to look. If only I could push him in here. Looking back at him to gauge his size again to see if she could take him, she determined that his roughly three hundred pounds next to her one hundred thirty was no match. Note to self: Sign up for self-defense after this.
The man laughed behind her, “What were you expecting? The Four Seasons?”
“Ha! And miss out on your hospitality? I wouldn’t dream of it!” She sarcastically announced. Looking back at the bathroom, she clicked her heels together, hoping like Dorothy she would wake up at home. Nothing. In the end, her bladder made the decision for her. Delilah took a deep breath, fully intending to hold it the whole time. Stepping in, she closed the door.
Chapter Sixteen
Brandon
Brandon tried to hold himself back from laughing as he heard Delilah’s mouth run nonstop. She had a tendency to do that and on more than one occasion, like the liquor cabinet incident, it had almost gotten them in trouble
.
After disconnecting himself from the rappelling equipment, he ran his hands along the places that the straps cut into. I’m getting too old for this, he thought as he quickly put his gear behind some of the boxes and started to work his way around the room.
After scanning the perimeter, Brandon saw that they were using the warehouse to stockpile illegal firearms and more. It was well known to the CIA that the General had gained much of his power through the credit card number thefts and was turning that money into goods to sell for more money on the black market. However, it was the Inhovakian bratva who had played a major role in turning the funds into black market goods for this operation. This warehouse must be where they were storing some of that cache.
Keeping in the shadows, Brandon sized up the guy who had taken Delilah to the bathroom. Although he outweighed Brandon by a good forty pounds, he was all fat and Brandon was all muscle. Plus, Brandon had been trained in Krav Maga. It was a confidence booster when entering into these sorts of situations. Brandon had studied pressure points and ways to take down enemies with mere squeezes, so brute force was not always necessary in such confrontations.
As Brandon neared the guy, he realized it wasn’t the thug that he should be worried about, but his strong cologne. It threatened to set off Brandon’s always ill-timed allergies. As it was, the overly powerful stench made his eyes water. Wanting to get this done quickly, he neared the back of the man and gave him a bone cracking chop to the side of the neck, instantly incapacitating him. The man began to fall, but Brandon caught him and put him down gently.
Just then, Delilah opened the door and Brandon realized two things. First, she had never looked so good and second, the stench from the bathroom combined with the cologne was going to make him gag.
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