Mission: Irresistible

by Sharon Sala

  As East exited the elevator, he was surprised by a feeling of anticipation. Not since he was a kid had he experienced a sense of excitement at coming home. But today, he found himself hurrying down the hall toward Jeff’s apartment. It was a little scary to accept the fact that it was Ally to whom he was hurrying. He couldn’t help thinking that this attraction he was feeling couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time, but he knew that matters of the heart were not things to be scheduled. All he could do was face the truth of his feelings and try not to let them get out of hand. Yet the more time he spent in her company, the more difficult that was beginning to be.

  The key was in his hand, yet when he reached the door he hesitated, putting on what Jeff would have called his game face. Then he walked inside and she was coming toward him on the run and all of his good intentions evaporated. He slammed the door shut and caught her in midair.

  “A man could get used to this kind of welcome,” he drawled, and kissed her soundly before he could talk himself out of it.

  The kiss was sweet, and from the gasp that he heard just before they connected, obviously unexpected. But it wasn’t kissing her that bothered him. It was stopping at just the one.

  Ally moaned, then leaned into him, her news momentarily forgotten. When he turned her loose, she staggered, and would have bumped into the sofa had he not grabbed her first.

  She could feel her cheeks getting pink, but she refused to let him know how deeply it had affected her.

  “That wasn’t bad,” she muttered. “Want to go out and come back in again…just to see if it could get any better?”

  He laughed aloud and then hugged her again, but this time it was nothing more than a friendly embrace.

  “I think I’d better stop while I’m ahead,” he said.

  She pretended to pout. “I was afraid you’d say that.” Then the moment passed as she remembered why she’d been running to meet him. “Come with me,” she said, grabbing him by the hand and pulling out to the terrace. “There’s something I want you to see.”

  He followed willingly, more than a little enchanted with the flirt she was becoming.

  “So, what’s the big deal?” he asked, as she pulled him to the railing, then stopped.

  She waved her hand toward the street. “Look out there. What do you see?”

  East looked and saw nothing but cars and people and endless tons of cement.

  “Don’t I get a hint?” he asked.

  Her eyebrows knotted momentarily, and then she grinned and pointed. “Smile. You’re on candid camera.”

  He looked again, and in that moment, realized he was looking across the street and straight at a pole-mounted security camera. It didn’t take more than a second for the implications to dawn, and when they did, he started to grin.

  “Ally, honey, I said you were going to be my lucky charm.”

  She gave him an exasperated look. “And I told you I’m not lucky, I’m just—”

  “Smart. Yeah, I know, you’re smart. And thank the good Lord that you are.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” she argued. “I just pay attention to details.” Then she frowned. “But we have to wait until tomorrow to get the tapes. I just hope to goodness they keep at least a week’s worth before taping over them.”

  But East wouldn’t deny himself this new bit of hope.

  “Grab your purse,” he said. “I’m taking you out for dinner.”

  “But I was going to—”

  “Do you want to cook?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “I’m not very good at it.”

  He grinned. “Well, well, is there actually something you admit you don’t know how to do?”

  “Oh, no. I know how to cook, but I’m not good at it. That’s one of those things where practice makes perfect, and there have been very few times, if any, that cooking has been a prerequisite for going undercover.”

  He shook his head and then herded her back inside. “Go do whatever it is that women do to make themselves happy to face the world, and hurry. Suddenly, I’m starving.”

  “But the fingerprint ID is still running on my laptop.”

  He took her by the shoulders, resisting the urge to shake her.

  “And it will either be running when we get back, or it will have ended. Either way, there’s nothing else we can do tonight.”

  “Well, okay then,” she said, and started toward the bedroom to change her clothes. By the time she reached the door, she was running.

  Chapter 10

  Ally was waiting as East came out of the bank with a stack of tapes. Flashing a United States government badge had been all it took to get an audience with the bank president. Without going into details, East had asked for the tapes by hinting that they might be valuable to an ongoing investigation. The president had jumped at the chance to cooperate and fifteen minutes later they were in East’s hands, which moved him to the next step in his plans. There was a man from his past—a man named Freddie—who could work miracles with film. If there was anything to be seen on these tapes that would help them find Jeff, Freddie was the man who could find it.

  “Where to now?” Ally asked.

  “To visit an old friend,” he said, as he scooted behind the steering wheel and dumped the tapes on the seat between them.

  Forty-five minutes later, East had found the neighborhood and was now looking for a place to park.

  “There’s one,” Ally said, pointing to an empty space in the middle of the block.

  East whipped the car into the spot, then killed the engine. The neighborhood had changed, and from the amount of graffiti on the walls of the buildings, not for the better. He leaned forward, peering through the windshield to the building at the end of the block.

  “From grocery store to video arcade,” he muttered, eyeing the change of business below the second story of the building on the corner.

  “What?” Ally asked.

  “Nothing, just talking to myself,” he said, then grabbed the videos. “Let’s go see Freddie.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” Ally asked.

  “A little over ten years,” East answered.

  “How do you know he still lives here?”

  “If he’s still alive, he’s here,” East said, and opened the door.

  Ally followed, slinging her purse over her shoulder as she stepped up on the curb. This place and its inhabitants could have been a clone of her last assignment. Tough places and tough people were nothing new to her, but she took comfort from the weight of the Luger in the bottom of her bag.

  They entered the arcade to the mechanical sound of ringing bells and bionic beeps. Computerized roars and crashes sounded from the games that they passed, and the money the kids were feeding into the games seemed out of context in a neighborhood that appeared to have no signs of livelihood at all, save a liquor store across the street and a series of bars.

  Ally walked with her hand on her bag, constantly aware that there were probably kids in this place who had killed, and who, for as little as fifty dollars, would do it again.

  East moved carefully among the motley rank while keeping his eye on the archway at the end of the room. Once they moved through it to the dark hallway beyond, the noise was somewhat diminished.

  “Here,” he said, pointing to a series of steps leading up to the next story.

  Ally moved in front of him and started up, thankful that East was at her back. Moments later, they reached the second-story landing. At East’s instructions, she took a quick right.

  “Good grief,” she said, as they arrived at Freddie’s door.

  The paint on the black door was cracked and peeling, but there was no mistaking the white skull and crossbones set dead center, nor the one word message, No, written below it.

  “No, what?” Ally asked.

  “No to everything,” East answered.

  Ally grinned. “A man of few words, I take it?”

  “You have no idea,” East said, and knocked
.

  Thirty seconds passed before East knocked again, and this time he made a fist, then pounded and yelled.

  “Hey, Frederick Gene, are you home?”

  Almost immediately, the door swung inward, revealing a tall, skinny man with a seventies Afro and a long, graying beard. His clothes were a reflection of his hair and the glare on his face lasted all of two seconds before he broke into a grin.

  “By God, it’s Easty boy! I thought you were dead!”

  “Yeah, and I heard you downloaded a satellite feed off a UFO and disappeared into thin air,” East said, laughing as the man drew him into a thumping embrace.

  “And wouldn’t that be the ultimate trip?” Freddie said, and pulled East into the room. Only then did he notice East wasn’t alone. His smile stilled and his eyes narrowed. “Who’s the skirt?”

  “I’m not wearing a skirt,” Ally said shortly, “and the name is Alicia Corbin.” She held out her hand, as if daring him not to shake it.

  “Go ahead,” East said. “She won’t bite.” Then in an aside to Ally, he explained. “Freddie had a bad experience with a woman.”

  “Yeah, man,” Freddie said. “She set her purse down on a keyboard and crashed the motherboard to one of my satellite feeds.”

  “When did that happen?” Ally asked.

  Freddie squinted. “About ten, maybe twelve years ago. I forget.”

  “Holds a grudge, too,” she muttered, glancing about the room at the array of computer equipment in the room behind him. Then her eyes widened and her mouth parted in a silent O as she walked past them in silent awe.

  Ignoring a small jealous spurt that he hadn’t been able to put that look on her face, East glanced at Freddie.

  “I think she just fell in love.”

  Freddie spun and hurried after her, afraid she would touch his stuff. But he need not have worried. Ally moved about the room, gazing at one setup, then another, and another, admiring them as a patron of the arts might enjoy the great masters while strolling about the Louvre. It took a couple of minutes before Freddie settled down, and only then did he ask why they’d come.

  East held up the tapes. “I need help,” he said.

  “What’s on them?” Freddie asked.

  “I hope a clue as to who’s got my son.”

  Freddie’s eyes widened as he sucked his lower lip into his mouth. Without speaking, he dropped onto a backless stool and rolled toward a VCR, shoving in the first tape and hitting Play as the castors on his stool settled into little grooves on the old hardwood floor. Images appeared immediately.

  “What are we looking for?” he asked.

  “Three men in coveralls carrying a large trunk. I’m not sure what they’re driving…maybe a van or a rental truck.”

  Freddie nodded and slid a pair of Ben Franklin style eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose then leaned forward.

  “The kid…Jeff…is he all right?”

  East sighed. “He was day before yesterday.”

  Freddie glanced up once. “Grudge?” he asked, indicating that he knew more about East’s past than Ally would have imagined.

  “Same as,” East said, then glanced at Ally, seeing the question in her eyes. “Freddie trained me.”

  It all became clear. Freddie was a retired SPEAR operative, which explained everything else. East’s willingness to trust him with information, the odd life-style, the skull and crossbones on his door, his distrust of people and his unusual expertise.

  Silence filled the room as three pairs of eyes became trained upon the black-and-white images moving on the screen. Occasional noise from the arcade below was distracting, but as time passed, they subconsciously blocked it out, much in the same way that Freddie had learned to do.

  An hour passed, then another, and another. That tape played out and they inserted a second. A couple more minutes played out and then suddenly East pointed.

  “That’s Jeff’s car.”

  They watched the four-wheel drive sports utility move through the apartment gates and then come to a stop near the front entrance. A vague image of a man exited and East found himself blinking back tears.

  Damn, damn, damn. Don’t let this be the last sight I ever have of my son.

  “Is that him?” Ally asked.

  East nodded as the man disappeared off-screen.

  Nothing else appeared on the tape that seemed pertinent. East’s nerves were on edge as Freddie slid in the last one. He’d been so confident when the day had started, and now this one was their last hope. Daylight became dark on the tape and the parking lot emptied. Despite the thirty-five mile an hour speed limit in front of the apartment building, traffic moved at a swift pace.

  Suddenly Ally gasped and pointed to the right of the screen.

  “There! A dark van pulling into the apartment complex!”

  Freddie started to hit rewind when East touched his shoulder. “Wait,” he said. “Let it play. We can always go back.”

  As the van turned, it moved out of camera range and East groaned, then moments later, appeared at the right of the screen again.

  “Son of a…look where they parked,” East said.

  Ally and Freddie peered closer. The van had parked beneath a broken street light.

  “Odd choice of parking place when there are plenty of vacancies in better lighting,” East muttered.

  “They aren’t getting out,” Ally said.

  East’s heart skipped a beat. She was right. Something told him they were about to get lucky.

  “Watch the van,” he said sharply.

  Within minutes, both doors opened simultaneously and three men spilled out into the shadows. Two of them were carrying something large between them, but there was no way they could get a look at their faces.

  “Well, hell,” East said, as the trio went in the front of the apartment. All they could see were their backs and the trunk they were carrying.

  “Maybe we’ll get them when they come out,” Freddie said.

  Instinctively, Ally moved closer to East, offering comfort in the only way that she could—by her presence.

  Minutes passed—long agonizing minutes of watching cars and traffic, all the while knowing that while that camera was rolling, Jeff was most likely fighting for his life.

  Suddenly, Freddie pointed. “There they come!”

  Again, the trio’s faces were hidden by shadows and the angle of their heads, but there was no mistaking the trunk they were carrying, or the fact that it was taking all three of them to carry it now. They moved out of camera range, appearing seconds later on the dark side of the van.

  “Stop tape,” East said. “Now, can you zoom in on that shot?”

  “Yeah, but I don’t think we’re gonna see anything,” Freddie said, and punched a couple of keys on his keyboard.

  Immediately, the picture enlarged, then enlarged again. Freddie hit a couple more keys then moved the cursor to a specific section of the picture and clicked. At once, a specific section of the picture was separated from the whole, which he enlarged, then enlarged again.

  “Can’t go any higher,” Freddie said. “I’m already losing clarity and density.”

  “Print it out,” East said.

  Freddie clicked the mouse and a printer to Ally’s left kicked on. Seconds later, it spit out a print. She handed it to East. The men’s faces were indistinct blobs of dark and light.

  “Damn it,” East muttered. “Play out the rest of the tape.”

  They watched as the van backed up, then disappeared from view, appearing seconds later as it exited the gate. As it turned into the traffic, they had a brief glimpse of a license plate before another car drove up beside the van, blocking it from the camera’s view.

  “Back it up,” East said.

  Freddie hit Rewind.

  “There!” East said, pointing to the small, indistinct rectangle on the back of the van. Can you blow up that tag?”

  Freddie grinned. “Do bears…”

  Ally interrupted, laughing. “I think th
at’s a yes.”

  A few clicks later, they had a printout of the van’s tag as well. Freddie handed it to East with a flourish, then pointed to a nearby drawer.

  “There’s a magnifying glass in there,” he said.

  Ally hurried toward it, returning with the large, round glass.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting it into East’s hand.

  He leaned forward, holding it over the pictures that he’d laid beneath the light.

  “I can’t make out all of the numbers, but I can make out the state.”

  “Idaho or New York?” Ally asked.

  East straightened abruptly, his eyes round with shock.

  “How did you know?”

  “Crash and burn, remember?”

  “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled, and lifted the magnifying glass to his face one more time, reassuring himself that what he’d seen was truly there. Then he handed the glass to Ally.

  “You tell me,” he said.

  She leaned down. When she straightened, she was smiling.

  “Yippee-kiyi-yay, cowboy, it’s Idaho, just like your son called it.”

  “He told you?” Freddie asked.

  “Not exactly,” East said. “It’s a long story.” Then he combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. “My God…if this is so…if his kidnappers have actually taken him to Idaho, how in hell do we find him?” Then he slapped the flat of his hand on the desk in frustration. “Do you know how big the state of Idaho is?”

  “Actually, yes,” Ally said. “It’s 83,557 square miles, including eight hundred and eighty square miles of inland water. It’s thirteenth in size among the fifty states and its highest elevation is Borah Peak, which is 12,662 feet above sea level.”

  Freddie gawked. “What is she, a walking encyclopedia?”

  Ally looked crestfallen. She’d blurted out the answer before she’d thought. But to her delight, East just grinned, and ruffled her hair.

  “Nope. She’s my lucky charm.”

  His words took the sting out of Freddie’s thoughtless remark, although she would have preferred something more from East than a pat on the head.

  “I just know stuff,” Ally said, and pretended great interest in the pictures they’d printed out.