Taken Hostage

by Jordyn Redwood

  The first few minutes of solitude she’d spent crying because she’d found one of Olivia’s hair clips. One she’d bought at a specialty store because Olivia loved penguins. Regan had given it to her at Christmastime last year, and even though the hair accoutrement was out of season she’d still wanted to wear it every day.

  Another bit of proof that Olivia was indeed here.

  The next few minutes Regan spent looking for an escape route, but the window’s bars were secure. Nothing she found could work the screws open. Why was she wasting time when they were driving out of here and a new, better opportunity might present itself?

  Regan slipped on a pair of high heels and felt wobbly as she turned and opened the door. Baldy marched her out to the front of the complex where Colby stood next to the car, Green Eyes watching him.

  Her breath seized in her chest. He looked different from any time she’d met him before. Gone were the faded jeans and polo shirt, replaced with a pair of gray khakis and a button-up, long-sleeved shirt that brightened the color of his sapphire-blue eyes. His face was cleanly shaved and even from a distance she caught a hint of his cologne.

  A smile crested his face and he shifted shyly on his feet.

  Baldy nudged her forward and positioned her beside Colby.

  “I don’t know where they found these clothes. I thought I’d hidden them a while back. I don’t usually like to get dressed up like this,” Colby said.

  “Put your hands in front of your bodies,” Baldy ordered.

  Regan and Colby thrust their hands forward where they were zip-tied together. “I guess we can’t look like vagrants when we go into the bank.”

  Green Eyes opened the back passenger door. Colby got in first and shimmied across the rough, fractured leather seat to the other side. Regan sat and then pulled her legs inside.

  Baldy and Green Eyes got in. Baldy, in the driver’s seat, turned and smirked at Regan. “Good to see that our little altercation yesterday hasn’t left any marks. Wouldn’t want to draw any undo attention.”

  Regan hated the reminder. “How do you think this is going to work? Don’t you think I’ll be recognized at the bank? My picture’s been all over the news.”

  “We’ll see. People aren’t as observant as you want them to be.” He motioned to Green Eyes. “Sorry about this but we’ll need to make sure you don’t see where you’re going.”

  Green Eyes turned in his seat with two black felt bags. People really used these things? Regan bent forward and allowed the hood to be draped over her head. Wouldn’t other drivers see them like this? Wouldn’t it draw suspicion?

  Once their hoods were in place the car started to move. Regan’s hands were folded in her lap. No seat belt in place. Losing her sight made it difficult to anticipate the bumps in the road, and she and Colby were constantly colliding into one another. Regan decided the best choice would be just to lean against him for stability.

  Unknown minutes and miles passed. There was nothing she could use to mark their time on the road so she began to count to sixty, but gave up after about twenty minutes out of boredom. The jarring of the car suggested dirt roads and it seemed like more than an hour passed before they hit smooth pavement. Shortly after that, the car jolted to a stop and the hoods came off their heads.

  Regan blinked as she adjusted to the sun’s glare. They were on a paved road on a hill and she could see the city below her. No cars whizzed by and she didn’t see any traffic signs.

  Green Eyes got out and opened Regan’s door. “Get out.”

  She did as she was instructed. Never again would she judge a victim’s decision making because until confronted with being taken hostage, no one could anticipate what they would do.

  There she stood, out in the open. Green Eyes got in the car and seated himself next to Colby. Regan gazed at the open field, but quickly discarded running away. How far would she get running in high heels with her hands tied together? She returned to her seat. Green Eyes reached across her lap and pulled the car door closed. His position between the two of them offered more control.

  “Keep those hands down and we won’t have any problems,” Green Eyes said. He raised his weapon and flashed it before them. “Understood?”

  Regan’s hands slicked with sweat. She wasn’t familiar with this particular road and nothing seemed recognizable. The car began to move, pick up speed, but Baldy seemed to be keeping it right around the speed limit to not draw undue attention.

  They started to flow into a stream of cars. A few turns and Regan identified some landmarks and knew exactly where they were. Perhaps another ten minutes and they’d be at her bank.

  Regan glanced at Colby and his eyes mirrored the concern in her own. Every nerve in her body tingled. What would happen during this exchange? Would someone recognize her immediately? Call the police? And if that happened, what next?

  Baldy parked the car in the bank’s lot. Green Eyes clipped the zip-ties from their wrists. Regan rubbed her skin and tried to catch Colby’s gaze, but he was looking past her out the window.

  To the parked police car across the street.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” Baldy warned. “We’re just here for those journals. Both of you need to remember what’s at stake here. Even if the two of you make it away from here and we’re arrested by the police, I can guarantee you we won’t stay in jail and Olivia will die.”

  Regan wiped her palms on her pants.

  Baldy got out of the car and opened the door for her. She stood, and he grabbed her elbow, running his hand down her arm until he reached her hand and pressed the metal key to her safe-deposit box into her palm.

  His touch was the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard.

  Baldy leaned forward, his lips close to her ear. His breath hot and fetid against her cheek. “If we don’t check in in the next twenty minutes, they’ll kill your daughter.” He backed away and kissed her cheek lightly. Her stomach roiled and she bit her lip to keep from vomiting. He smiled. “So be a good little mama, okay?”

  Regan nodded and pivoted on shaky feet toward the bank’s entrance. She and Baldy walked close together, though he didn’t keep his hands on her. Regan didn’t dare look in the direction of the cop car and hoped Colby was behaving himself as he and Green Eyes walked behind them. This wasn’t the time to try something daring—not with Olivia’s life having a twenty-minute timer over it.

  Baldy opened the door for Regan and she broached the inner sanctum of the bank. He steered her to a desk where a woman typed busily at her computer. One elderly man stood at the counter, chatting it up with a younger male clerk. Baldy nudged her forward and she nearly tipped over the leather chair in front of the woman’s desk. The woman looked up, her lips downturned in annoyance until she saw Regan’s face.

  And then her mouth dropped open.

  “Dr. Lockhart.”

  Strange for sure. She’d never met this woman. Her glitzy, bronze name tag read Gloria. Was this woman recognizing her good or bad?

  “I need to get into my safe-deposit box,” Regan said.

  “Yes, of course. Do you have your key?” Gloria stood from her desk. Her hands were visibly shaking. Regan looked around the bank. Where had the elderly man gone? The clerk at the counter stood there stock-still, eyeing the foursome with a wariness of a patient who was about to go in for surgery with a fifty-fifty chance of survival.

  Something was off that Regan couldn’t quite put her finger on. She looked at the two televisions mounted in the corners of the lobby. Both were off when they’d normally broadcasted a 24/7 news channel every other time she’d been in the bank.

  Regan lifted her chin. “Yes, right here.”

  “Dr. Lockhart—only one person can accompany you inside the vault. Two of your other friends will have to stay out here.”

  “That won’t work for us,” Baldy said.
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  Gloria looked like she might whither. Her eyes darted around and she nodded subtly—like she was responding to something someone had said to her. Was she wearing an earpiece? Regan couldn’t see anything visible.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but it is bank policy and something we don’t waver on. I’m sorry to not be able to meet your expectations.”

  It was Gloria’s voice—dropped a tone and soft-spoken—like Baldy was a toddler about to erupt into a tantrum.

  Was this simply Gloria’s training kicking in as she often dealt with testy people on financial matters? Or had Gloria been expecting them?

  “Fine—”

  Regan reached behind her and latched onto Colby’s arm. “This gentleman will be going in with me. The items in the deposit box are private documents that are meant for him.”

  Baldy pushed his hand out from his jacket, glared at his wristwatch and tapped it three times. “Don’t keep us waiting too long. You know we have an appointment in fifteen minutes. We can’t keep them waiting without serious penalty.”

  Gloria stepped away from her desk. “You two gentlemen are more than welcome to take a seat here and wait. Would you like a bottled water?”

  “No, but thanks for asking.” Green Eyes and Baldy pulled the chairs out from Gloria’s desk and sat.

  Gloria motioned Regan and Colby forward. They walked through the lobby, down a few halls and turned to a door that had a keyed access. The woman led the way. Once inside, she grabbed another set of keys and motioned them forward.

  Why hadn’t she asked for some sort of identification from Regan?

  When they turned the corner into the vault—two men stood there. Both were dressed in military uniforms. One stood with an assault rifle strapped across his chest. The other stood calmly, his hands folded in front of him, the left chest decorated with numerous ribbons and medals.

  The man appeared bald under his cap. His eyes were dark brown and narrowed as he scanned Regan and Colby as quickly and informatively as a CT scanner does a patient.

  “Dr. Lockhart, I’m Nicholas Abrams. I work with the military in a position where I hunt down people operating outside the law in regard to biological agents. We’ve been anticipating your arrival. Seems that you’ve gotten yourself and Mr. Waterson into quite the situation. We’re here to help.”

  * * *

  Colby didn’t know whether he should cry out with relief or punch Nicholas Abrams in the face. He consciously flared out his fingers from both hands to prevent them from forming fists.

  “Didn’t ever think we’d meet again like this, Colby,” Nico said.

  It was unusual for men who had served so closely as part of Delta Force to be at odds. The military normally formed bonds that could never be broken.

  But the one thing that could break them was being negligent to the point that someone died. Colby and Nico each held the other responsible for Mark’s death, and the waters remained turbulent between them. It had been years since they’d talked.

  “I’d heard you weren’t serving with Delta Force anymore. Is it an agency that has a name, or are you doing covert ops and hitting United States’ citizens on US soil, but no one gets to review or know anything about it?”

  Regan shifted beside Colby. How could Abrams diffuse years worth of tensions between the two of them in a few short minutes? Simply, he couldn’t.

  “Dr. Lockhart stole a biological agent from a hospital. You think we should just let that go?”

  “Depends on who we are and who you’re working for.”

  Regan stepped forward. “Gentlemen, I hate to cut short your obviously heartfelt reunion, but my daughter’s life is on the line and we don’t have a lot of time to be chatting about the past.”

  Colby stretched his neck and dropped his shoulders to try to ease his knotted muscles. Of all the people in the world who might be able to provide assistance—why did it have to be Nico? There was little trust between them.

  “To answer your question, Colby, I work for the Department of Defense. After our time in Iraq, I transitioned to their team. As you know, there has been little restraint of some foreign governments to use chemical and biological agents on non-military personnel, so my team and I try to thwart the development of these weapons. We got a call from someone trying to sell what they termed to be a virulent form of airborne polio.”

  “Someone called the DoD and tried to sell you a bioweapon?” Colby asked.

  “You know international law strictly prohibits the formation of these weapons. And just because we weren’t interested in purchasing such an agent doesn’t mean that someone else wouldn’t be. That’s when my team got the call to investigate.”

  “Were you able to find out who made the call?” Regan asked.

  “Yes, a man by the name of Brian Hollis.”

  “I knew it,” Colby said.

  “We started to research Brian’s past and discovered the lab accident that occurred when he worked with Dr. Lockhart. What happened regarding the accident wasn’t publically disclosed, but what was known was that Regan had been working with the polio virus. I became involved in Regan’s case when the hospital reported her theft of her modified polio virus. It wasn’t hard to start to tie these two events together.” Nico turned to Regan. “And why did you steal your cure?”

  “Because they’re holding my daughter hostage and asked for it in exchange, but then they took me and Colby. They want me to reverse engineer the cure into a bioweapon.”

  Nico nodded. “Considering Brian was trying to sell something along those lines, we assumed he had some inside knowledge about what might have happened at your lab.” Nico turned to Regan and asked, “Does he?”

  “I don’t know what Brian thinks he knows. I’m not even entirely sure what happened myself to have caused those deaths, but it appeared that the workers were killed by aerosolized polio virus. However, I don’t know what happened in the lab to create it. It seemingly burned itself out.”

  “What did you think when Dr. Lockhart popped up missing?” Colby asked Nico.

  “Were you following me?” Regan asked. “And if you were, did you see Olivia and Polina get taken and do nothing about it?”

  Regan was nearly screaming by the end of the sentence. Tears formed in her eyes and Colby wondered if her voice had carried to the lobby and alerted the hostage-takers that more was going on in the vault than her and Colby picking up a few notebooks.

  “No, we didn’t have you or your family under surveillance,” Nico said. “We did a preliminary background check on you, but didn’t find anything concerning, so we began to work other angles. It was only after you stole the virus from the hospital that we thought you and Brian might be working together. That’s when we came to your house.”

  “I’m not working with him,” Regan said. “I’m innocent. If we’re not out of this vault in the next few minutes they’re going to kill her.”

  “Regan, calm down,” Colby said. None of this arguing was getting them anywhere. To Nico he said, “Just tell us what you know.”

  “We were able to trace the call to the DoD to a phone registered to Brian. I’d have to say, he’s not a very savvy criminal, so we weren’t too worried about him personally. We made him an offer—not to really purchase it but to flush him out. He didn’t like it, so we guessed he’d start looking for other buyers who were willing to pay a higher price.”

  “Who did he find?”

  “That’s classified, but let’s just say the person Brian found, for now, is a very bad actor. He’s more or less a broker for other entities. He’s looking to sell your bioweapon to the highest bidder, but they have to have a product first. If Brian has threatened you, then I would believe every word he says. Brian’s life is on the line, as well, and he knows it. This broker has quite a trail of dead bodies in his wake and he’s also been known to
try to cut out other middle men.”

  Colby ran his fingers through his hair. “What’s the plan? You’re obviously not here to rescue us, otherwise you would have already.”

  “What we want to learn is who all the interested parties are. The men who have you are the low-hanging fruit. We need the top players. That’s very valuable information for the US military—who is interested in buying weapons like this, what kind of money they’re willing to pay and what kind of biological agents they might already have access to.”

  “You want me to be your spy? I’m a doctor. I don’t do covert ops. I only want my daughter back safely.”

  “Dr. Lockhart, perhaps you don’t realize how much trouble you’re in. If you get me this information, it could be the only way to keep from going to jail. To get your life back.” He paused and narrowed his eyes. “Can you do what Brian asks?” Nico asked. “Create a bioweapon from polio?”

  Regan’s head swam. That was the deal. Valuable information in exchange for immunity. “The problem is, I don’t know how it was created in the lab. I know our hostage-takers are not going to wait around for me to figure it out.”

  Nico stepped forward and held his hand out. There were two clear gel caps in his hand. Inside each was what appeared to be a black dot. “These are locater chips. You need to swallow them.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Regan asked.

  “Actually, no. If you have smart hostage-takers, then they’ll search your clothing when you return to their location. Hopefully they won’t scan you with any devices that could pick these up.”

  “Why don’t you just follow us?” Colby asked, refusing to take one of the clear capsules from Abrams’s hand. “End this thing.”

  “Too dangerous right now,” Nico said. “When we found out there was the existence of this safety-deposit box, we’ve been camped out here in the basement for days to see if Regan would show up, as we have with other known associates and places. But yesterday, persons likely associated with the broker were all around this premises and even placed one inside the bank—a temp who showed up for work today in place of someone else. Some are likely still outside.”