by Debra Webb
Feeling like a total heel, he pulled out of the parking lot and headed in the direction Stark had instructed.
Riley wasn’t sure he could tolerate another fifteen minutes of silence in her presence. “Have you met Renwick before?” Seemed like a safe enough question to ask.
“No.”
“What’s the deal between him and your boss?”
She said nothing.
“I get that they’re business competitors,” Riley went on despite her refusal to answer. “Seems personal though. More than just competition to own the market.” It sickened him considering the market in question.
More silence.
What he really wanted to do was ask her if she remembered who she really was. He wanted to open that line of conversation and just see how deep her alliance to the Master went.
But that couldn’t happen until he had some sense of where he stood with her.
She held on to that bag as if she expected a sudden flood and it doubled as a flotation device. Her lack of conversation and the blank expression she maintained prevented him from assessing her state of mind. As they’d left the compound, he’d gotten the impression she was scared, but maybe he’d judged too quickly.
From what he’d seen of the compound, it was an extraordinarily elaborate setup. Howard, Brooks and Krant were the only personnel he’d seen but he felt certain there were others. The large dining table indicated perhaps a dozen on-site.
If there were any captives on the property they, too, had been out of sight. But Tessa would know the answers to all those questions.
Whether or not she would cooperate was the real question in all this.
He had her away from the compound. That was a key element in his operation. But he had no additional details about the organization except the location of the compound. The urge to call in the feds right now, this minute, was overwhelming.
Somehow the so-called Master was counting on the idea that Riley wouldn’t take that step. Riley wasn’t so sure that the man had bought that fully into his cover. Yet there was something that gave him confidence. By now the compound could have been evacuated and prepared for burning to the ground.
This Master was way too smart and too cunning to let Riley walk out of there with that knowledge. Unless he had an ace up his sleeve.
Riley’s attention shifted to the silent woman in the passenger seat. She had to be that ace.
The rendezvous location was the parking lot of an abandoned factory in the Ninth Ward. Riley swallowed hard. If they couldn’t disarm this thing around his neck, no need to put lives at risk. A deserted location was best for all concerned.
In the daylight, despite the blanket of snow, the ugly scars of the city’s worst natural disaster in the last century remained visible. An unmarked van as well as an SUV waited behind the massive, dilapidated building.
Riley parked the SUV and climbed out. Tessa didn’t move. He moved around the hood to her side of the vehicle and opened the door. “Come on,” he prompted.
She didn’t look at him, kept her attention straight ahead.
“Get out,” he said a bit more firmly.
She climbed out of the SUV, the bag still gripped tightly in her arms.
“Leave the bag inside,” he said, just in case it was rigged, too.
She stared at him a long, silent moment, then did as he asked.
He shoved the door shut and led the way to where Stark and the others had already emerged from their vehicles. All wore plain clothing, no tell-tale markings of law enforcement.
“Smith,” Stark said, keeping Riley’s cover intact.
Riley opened his jacket, easing the collar away from the device locked around his neck.
One of the men stepped forward and visually analyzed the device.
No one spoke as the man continued his assessment. He motioned for one of his colleagues to join him. The two used a handheld X-ray-type gadget to see inside the lethal necklace.
When at last they stepped back, the first man spoke. “This appears to be a T.A.T.P.-type explosive. Two chemicals that when combined detonate. It takes a very small quantity to accomplish the goal apparently intended here. The vials can have a built-in time release breakdown component, but in this case there seems to be a tiny secondary charge that will activate via the timer and shatter the vials unless the timer is stopped. Again, this is speculation to some degree since this portable job—” he waved the machine in his hand “—doesn’t work as well as the one at the lab.”
Sounded bad for him, Riley gathered. “So how do we stop the timer?”
“Can’t,” the bomb tech said bluntly. “If the timing or the locking mechanism is hampered with the detonating charge will activate. Has to be removed only after it’s unlocked, which deactivates the timer. Any unnecessary vibration could set it off.”
Tension stiffened Riley’s spine. “How do we unlock it?” If that was the only route, then he was ready to get on with it. He understood the additional risk involved with tampering with the lock, but his chances with these techs was likely far better than with the Master.
“It’s biometric. We’d need whoever’s print it recognizes to get it open.” The tech shook his head. “We might be able to override it but that would take serious technology and time.”
“If that’s what it takes,” Stark spoke up, “then we’ll take him in. Where’s the nearest lab?”
This was bad all the way around. A tug at his jacket drew Riley’s attention to Tessa.
“We need to talk.” She sent a sideways glance at the other men. “Privately.”
Startled that she’d spoken, Riley said to Stark and the tech, “Give us a minute.”
The tech shrugged. “It’s your head.”
No need to remind him of that.
Riley walked a couple of yards away. “What?”
As much as he wanted to question her, there was no time for that now. He needed this thing off.
“We don’t have time to waste,” she said, her expression hard with determination.
“No kidding.” Had she missed every word the tech said? “If I don’t get this thing off…” She surely understood the ramifications.
She shook her head. “You’re not listening.”
Riley cleared his head of thoughts of the ticking bomb wrapped around his neck and took a breath. “Explain to me what I’m not listening to.”
“If you do not contact Renwick and do as you were instructed, there will be devastating consequences.”
No joke. “I got that part.” Though he wasn’t entirely convinced this was about him or Renwick. But it was still too early to form a reliable conclusion.
She shook her head again, even more adamantly. “I’m not talking about the bomb. Other, devastating consequences.”
He searched her eyes. “Are there captives at the compound?” His pulse rate jumped into an even faster gallop.
She nodded. “You don’t know what he’s capable of. The children will pay for your failure.”
That didn’t make sense to Riley. Why would the man destroy the very merchandise with which he dealt? “What would he have to gain by doing that? He has no idea whether I would be swayed by such an act.”
“But I would be.”
The picture began to clear. “That’s why he sent you with me.” It was that ace up his sleeve Riley had presumed existed. And she was it.
“If you don’t do as he said, the children will die.”
He got that part, too. “You know I wasn’t sent by Renwick. I don’t even know who the hell he is or how to contact him.”
She gazed at the men waiting a few feet away, then settled that fierce gaze back on him. “I think I know who you are now. You’re a cop or something.”
Was that relief he heard in her tone? “Something like that,” he confirmed.
“I may know a way to contact Renwick,” she said, her voice turning grave. “But we have to move quickly.”
“All right. Still, I need to at least go by the lab and see i
f they can get this thing off.” He’d feel a lot more secure without the time constriction.
She shook her head again. “You can go, but I can’t do that.”
Frustration rose higher, but he tamped it down. “Why can’t you do that?”
“He knows where I am at all times.”
A new layer of difficulty fell over the operation. “You have a tracking device on you?” He had a feeling it wasn’t nearly that simple.
“I have several.” She let go a heavy breath. “Implanted. I have no idea the locations. I just know they’re there.”
Riley knew the rest of the story. If one or more of the devices somehow stopped working or were removed and left at one location, the Master would recognize what they were doing.
Their options were limited to one: follow the order.
He just hoped like hell the man’s minions hadn’t followed them here and were watching every move they made. That maximized the need to get the heck out of here.
“How fast can you make contact?” There wasn’t a single second to spare.
“I’ll try now.” She looked around again. “But we can’t stay here. He knows every inch of this city. We have to keep moving.”
Riley stood there feeling defeated for a moment. He couldn’t give the location of the compound to the feds for fear someone would screw up and the Master would recognize they were there. He couldn’t have the bomb deactivated or removed because there was no time to figure it out.
Once again his survival and that of the mission boiled down to one person.
Tessa.
And even she wasn’t sure she could set in motion the chain of events that had to occur to maintain the validity of the operation.
There was one question he had to ask. “Why are you willing to take this risk?” The decision to help him put her at great risk. The motivation to stay involved when the opportunity to walk away was right in front of her had to be immense.
“For the children.”
Until she gave him reason not to trust that statement, he had no choice but to go with it.
“Make the call.”
Chapter Eight
11:01 a.m.—46 hours, 59 minutes remaining
Tessa waited until Smith had parked the SUV in the cemetery before opening her cell phone.
So far he had gone along with her suggestion to distance himself from his colleagues. She hadn’t selected this out-of-the-way derelict cemetery for no reason. The drive from the abandoned warehouse had used up valuable time. But this was her one and only chance to save the children. Her unknowing hero wouldn’t be pleased with her plan, but she couldn’t let him stand in the way.
Not even if it meant sacrificing his life.
A pang of regret tore through her. It was hard for her to determine if he was the bad guy she had assumed. She had gotten the impression his friends were law enforcement but she couldn’t be certain. He’d said something like that.
If he was a cop, why didn’t he just tell her?
If he was an informant, then most likely he had done the same sort of bad things the Master and his soldiers had done. In that case, she had no sympathy for Smith or whoever he was.
Ultimately, her concern had to be for the children and the patients.
Her own life was on the line as well, and she didn’t care. All that mattered was saving the children. The idea that she was so far away from Sophie twisted her heart. But it was the only way to save her. Tessa had been planning this operation for a while now. She just hadn’t expected it to happen this way…or at this time.
She gently patted the bun of her hair to ensure the key was where she’d tucked it. With that confirmation, she was ready. One phone call—a pretend phone call—and she would make her move. But that pretend call was necessary to keep Smith distracted.
She climbed out of the SUV, the cold air made her shiver. Smith followed her into the center of the cemetery. The slushy snow dragged at her boots.
“This should be fine,” she said, acting as if the distance away from the SUV was necessary before making the call.
While she entered the numbers, Smith scanned the woods surrounding the ancient cemetery. He was keenly alert. She would have to stay sharp or he would see through her deception.
“This is Tessa,” she said as if the call had connected. She paused long enough to have had a response then said, “I’m ready to work with Renwick. Where can we meet?”
Smith watched her so closely. Fear had her heart pumping hard. Of course he was suspicious. She just needed to ensure he wasn’t overly suspicious.
Next she gave her location, then waited again. “Yes, I’ll stand by.” She looked at Smith then. “No, no, I’m alone.” A moment’s pause. “Okay.” She pretended to end the call and closed the phone. “A contact is on his way here. I told him I was alone—”
“I heard that part.”
Definitely ill at ease and highly suspicious.
“Stay down in the SUV,” she suggested, “so he doesn’t see you right away. Once we determine how many have been sent and how heavily armed they are, we can take it from there. You can use the gun in my bag.”
The last seemed to put him more at ease. She followed him to the SUV. As he dug through her bag for the gun he wouldn’t find, she snatched up one of the rocks that lined the narrow road that circled the cemetery.
She banged it into the back of his head, tossed the rock and ran.
Afraid to look back to confirm he’d been rendered unconscious, she pushed forward with all her physical strength. The gun in her waistband shook. She put one hand on it to make sure it didn’t bounce out.
She hit the woods, underbrush slapped at her legs. Dodging the trees, she refused to slow down even as her lungs burned for more oxygen.
Then she saw it. Her salvation.
Sitting on an abandoned, overgrown old road was the green pickup truck. The vehicle was three decades old but it had run perfectly fine two weeks ago when she, Brooks and Howard had met a contact here.
The meeting had gone sour and the contact had been taken back to the questioning room. As Brooks and Howard had forced him into the SUV, she’d noticed the key to his truck on the ground. She’d picked it up and from that day forward she had planned her escape.
The driver’s door opened with a creak. Only then did she dare to look back and see if Smith had followed her. No sign of him. Relief made her knees weak.
She jammed the key into the ignition and twisted it. The starter turned over but the engine didn’t roar to life. “Oh, God.” She pumped the gas pedal and tried again. The reluctant engine tried to start, sputtering and groaning. “Please, please, start,” she murmured.
The engine coughed again then growled to life. She smiled. The movement so unexpected that she reached up and touched her lips. She was going to make it.
She pulled the gear shift into Drive.
Something slammed into the cab next to her door. The truck rocked with the impact.
Her gaze collided with furious gold eyes, and a scream trapped in her throat.
Smith jerked the truck door open.
She stomped the accelerator.
The truck lurched forward.
Smith hung on.
She tried to push him away but he had a death grip on the door and the steering wheel.
Tessa hit the brake hard. The door flopped, sandwiching Smith between it and the cab. He howled a curse.
He elbowed her hard enough to loosen her grip on the steering wheel. His hand reached past her and snagged the key, shutting down the engine.
She fumbled for the gun.
He threw his body atop hers. His hands found the weapon first. She bucked her body in an attempt to throw him off balance.
Too late. He jammed the weapon into her rib cage. “Stop fighting me.”
The words were a breathless snarl, but no less threatening.
“Get off me.” She shoved at his chest, somehow unafraid that he would actually shoot her. There was some
thing about the way he looked at her that suggested he wouldn’t hurt her.
He backed out of the cab, but kept the weapon trained on her. “Get out.”
Tessa scrambled out and righted her clothes. Her hair had fallen but she didn’t care. Her breath came in jagged spurts. She’d failed. Now her one chance at saving the children…at escaping him was over.
After months of planning, she had failed in a matter of minutes.
“What the hell were you doing?” he demanded as he shoved his fingers through his mussed hair.
She ignored him. Rather, she focused on pulling the pins from her hair. One. Two. Ouch. She grimaced. Three. Four. The counting did little to keep her mind off the idea that she was a failure.
She’d let the children down.
She threw down the pins and glared at the man holding the gun. “What do you think I was doing?” She didn’t care that her hair was a mess or that he could shoot her any time now. She only cared that she had failed.
“Trying to escape?” he asked, fury making his words as sharp as knives. “Me? Or him?”
“Both,” she admitted, not caring what he thought. He had no idea what the Master was capable of. He didn’t know anything.
He laughed but there was no humor in the sound. “I thought you were worried about the children. You said you didn’t want them to pay for our making a wrong move.” He shook his head. “Oh, that was good, lady. The only person you care about is yourself.”
She rushed him.
The gun flew out of his hand.
They tumbled to the cold, wet ground.
She kicked at him. Banged her fists at his chest. Cried out with the pain that was ripping her apart inside. He didn’t know! He didn’t understand!
He rolled her onto her back and pinned her to the ground with his body. His hands were like iron manacles on her arms, holding them down.
“Have you lost your mind?”
She blew the hair out of her face so she could glare at him.
“I could have shot you.” He hissed a couple of expletives.
“Shoot me,” she dared. “I don’t care anymore.”
He stared into her eyes, obviously seeing the truth in her statement. The anger in his eyes faded away and sympathy replaced it. That didn’t make her feel any better. She didn’t need his sympathy. She needed a new plan. Now!