Dangerous Games (Aegis Group, #3)

by Sidney Bristol

  “I don’t know, October,” Andrea whispered.

  There was a grimy window across the room up near the ceiling. What were the chances she could get out that way?

  She peered around her prison. The basement was surprisingly empty, with only some boxes here and there of what she imagined was junk.

  Andrea descended to the basement floor, edging forward slowly, hands out. October meowed at her, pressing against her ankles and generally being a pain in the ass. A flash of lightning illuminated the basement for one, quick moment. Her path was clear. She crossed to the wall under the window and stood on tiptoe, trying to see out.

  Trees. Grass. No lights. Were they out in the suburbs? Or the country? How had they made it out of the greater Seattle area so fast? Granted, she’d lost track of time there for a while, so maybe she wasn’t the most reliable gage of where they were.

  Most importantly, it told her there were no neighbors. No one to hear her scream. So why bother?

  She lowered to her heels and put her back against the wall.

  October plastered herself to Andrea’s shin, her little furry body vibrating.

  Where was Zain? How was he going to find her out here? She didn’t even know where she was, so how could he get there?

  The lightning flashed again, a triple blip of light.

  She squinted into the darkness.

  Was that a light bulb?

  Andrea ventured to her left, hand outstretched. Had she imagined the chain and a thin string dangling? Light wouldn’t do her a lot of good, but at least she could see herself, take stock of her injuries and find out if there was a bathroom down here.

  It took a few moments wandering around blindly, hands outstretched like some TV zombie, but eventually she walked straight into the pull-cord. She tugged on it gently and dim light flickered on.

  The basement was worse than she’d imagined.

  A kennel sat open, collecting dust in a corner. Old pee pads were crumpled up next to it. Clearly, someone used to keep their pet down here. Or maybe they still did whenever they were here? She found it hard to believe someone like that man upstairs would have an animal. She doubted a dog—or her even—would last long around him.

  Besides the dog paraphernalia, there were the few boxes she’d glimpsed earlier—and miracle of miracles, a small powder and laundry room tucked under the stairs. After a pee and a quick wash, Andrea felt like she could actually do something.

  She made a circuit of the room. The concrete walls were damp and cool, speaking to inevitable foundation issues. The home had to be older, judging by the wear and tear to the joists above her. There were some electrical outlets and even an old phone jack, none of which did her any good. But at least she had light to chase away the boogie men and to keep her from tripping over October.

  Andrea turned her attention to the boxes, poking in them, digging into someone else’s odds and ends. There were phone books, an old Nokia cell phone, some random cords and trophies, plus a few tools on some shelves and a roll of tape.

  Nothing useful.

  She even tried powering the Nokia phone on just to see if it had a spark, but nothing worked.

  She was fucked.

  Zain would have to find her using his Captain America powers. Not that the Captain really had powers, so to speak...man, she was screwed.

  She pulled the phone apart, checking the battery for corrosion, but the case was broken and the whole back fell off, leaving the insides of the phone exposed.

  Andrea stared at the brick-like phone.

  It’s parts were all there. The speaker. A receiver. Buttons. It was a phone. Without connection or power, but it was a phone.

  She’d fiddled with enough Nokia 5110’s, taking them apart to do a silly LCD screen tutorial that she knew how they worked. At least the basics.

  Except...The black stuff on the mic looked a lot like it’d burned out. Maybe a short? A lot of the phones were ruined from people dropping their phones into a cup holder with a beverage in it. Lord only knew how many phones she’d killed back in the day, doing just that.

  Okay, so first—she needed to figure out how to wire the phone into a land-line. She’d seen that on...What show was it? One of them. But that’d been a smart phone. Not a nearly-two-decade-old brick.

  She scrambled to the tool shelf, October shadowing her like a dog and not a cat at all. There. That’s what she needed. A screw driver and a random plastic bag full of screws, nails and other bits.

  If she cut the phone line, stripped the wires down and maybe connected them to the Nokia’s motherboard...she could get a dial tone. Maybe all she needed to do was make a connection. Zain could trace a call, right? Big, bad tech guys like him did that sort of thing?

  Except...she didn’t know Zain’s phone number. Who memorized numbers anymore? The only numbers she still remembered was her parent’s old, out of use phone and...Crystal’s. She’d never changed her phone number. It was still the same one.

  Zain had said to do nothing. She knew that was what he’d want her to do. But she couldn’t. Andrea didn’t need Crystal to pop her spine into place. Andrea had allowed her friend to always take the lead—shoulder the hard stuff—but right now, all Andrea had was herself. And she was damn well going to do something instead of waiting to be rescued.

  She gathered the extra cables and cords, the tools and tape until she’d put together as much of a kit as she could. She even dragged the dog kennel across the basement to serve as her work bench.

  It was slow going. She had one shot of creating a sort of emergency phone. If it didn’t work, or if she fried the motherboard, she was out of options.

  Andrea cut bits of a canvas tarp and taped the folded over fabric to her hands to protect her from getting shocked. It made her a bit clumsier, but so long as she was careful and didn’t hurry, it didn’t encumber her too much.

  She cut the end of an electrical cord and peeled the plastic casing back until she could attach it to the phone. This way she could essentially plug it into an outlet and get a charge. But she waited. No need to charge the phone quite yet. Not until she had it tied into the phone line.

  Andrea repeated the same mantra over and over again. There was no way to tell how many times the phone might work, but it only had to be once.

  One shot.

  That was all she’d have—if that.

  Finally, she managed to connect the land-line to the Nokia.

  She turned it over, holding her breath, while Crystal’s number ran through her head on repeat.

  The mic wasn’t going to work. So how would she make Crystal realize it was her?

  Andrea had learned Morse code as part of one of their projects. At least enough to get herself in trouble. Binary though... Crystal knew binary, but that was a ones-and-zeros language. She couldn’t use that. A tone then. A jingle. What would Crystal recognize?

  “I don’t wanna grow up, I’m a Toys R Us kid...” Her hands shook as she hit the power button.

  The screen lit up, that familiar LCD screen shining vibrantly.

  One shot.

  That was all she needed.

  And for Crystal to remember what it was like to be a kid.

  Andrea dialed Crystal’s number. The speaker crackled and it was hard to hear, but it did the job.

  One ring.

  Two.

  “Pick up,” Andrea chanted.

  “Hello?” Crystal’s voice sounded like she was under water.

  October meowed, again and again.

  Andrea swallowed the urge to yell at the phone. Crystal wouldn’t be able to hear her—and it would only draw the attention of her kidnapper.

  “I don’t wanna grow up,” Andrea whispered under her breath, pressing the keypad in time to the familiar jingle.

  “Hello?” Crystal said again.

  “I’m a Toys R Us kid...”

  “Who the hell is this? Answer me.”

  “Come on, Crystal. Listen.” Andrea started the jingle over again. The rest of th
e verse was lost to her.

  “Who is this?” a male voice said.

  Zain!

  Her fingers froze, her thoughts short circuiting for a second

  “Hello?” he said again.

  “Three dots.” She mashed the one key three times. “Three dashes.” She switched keys, holding each down for two counts. “Three dots.” She switched back to the one key, keeping it brief.

  Silence.

  She bit her lip, hoping against hope that he heard her.

  “Andrea?”

  “Yes!” How did she say yes? “Uh...Dash, dot, dash, dash—what is E? Dot! Three dots.”

  “I need a trace on this now.” Zain’s voice was a snarl.

  What had she learned? What could she tell him?

  Kevin wanted files. She had no idea which ones or why, but maybe Zain could figure it out.

  “Files. How do I say, files? Um...F...dot, dot, dash, dot and...dot, dot...dot, dash, dot, dot, why the fuck is this so long? Okay, f-i-l-e—dot. And, dot, dot, dot.”

  “What are you trying to say? Files?”

  “Yes!” She hammered out the dots and dashes faster this time. “Wants files.”

  Her wrists ached by the time she worked her way through the two words.

  “That doesn’t matter, Andrea. Where are you? Can you tell me where you are? Are you okay?”

  What was the shortest way to answer that?

  Ok.

  No clue.

  “Hang tight, Andrea. We’ve almost got a lock on your location. I don’t know what you mean by wants files.”

  He wants files. No clue which ones. Check work.

  “Andrea, all I care about is getting you back, babe. We can worry about what he wants later.”

  “But it’s important.” She shook the phone and the screen flickered once. Twice. It went dark. “No!”

  October pawed at her, more insistent this time.

  She covered her mouth with her hand.

  Why had she done that?

  That was stupid!

  Why had she done it?

  She’d had Zain. He’d understood her. And she’d blown it.

  Andrea dropped the phone and cradled her head in her hands.

  Was it enough? Could he find her? What was it crazy dude upstairs was after? Because it wasn’t her. None of this had anything to do with her. Just her files. Or what he thought was in her files. But what could that be?

  She hadn’t been quite truthful with him though. Once, back after Dark Matter bought Grunge and they’d cracked down on personal use, she’d brought in an external hard drive to back up her MMO game and save music that wasn’t on her personal system. Had she grabbed something else? It’d been years since she’d revisited that stuff—if she even had it. But...what if...?

  17.

  “Did we get a trace on that?” Zain clenched Crystal’s phone in one hand and pointed at Max with the other.

  “I barely got the request in.” Max held his hands out.

  “Shit.” Zain jabbed the speed dial to Gavin. Hopefully the kid wasn’t—

  “Yeah, boss?”

  “Gavin, I need you to run a trace on a call that just came into a number. Ready?”

  “Shoot.”

  Zain recited Crystal’s number from memory and waited. Crystal stared at him, eyes wide, hands clasped. They were all on pins and needles. So far, they’d had a name and a list of crimes—then nothing.

  Until now.

  “Hey, boss, I ran across something,” Gavin said slowly.

  “You get a location yet?” Zain knew these things took time. It wasn’t as instantaneous as it was on TV but he needed to know now.

  “It’s running. So I was going over the Dark Matter people, financials, phones, the usual—and I ran across a weird phone registered to that Cliff guy.”

  “Yeah? Send it to me.”

  “Hey guys—what’s going on?” Patricia paused in the doorway, cups of coffee in hand.

  “We found her!” Crystal blurted.

  “Don’t—Say—Anything,” Zain said over Crystal’s next words. Both girls stared at him while Max and the staff manning the phones continued to work. “This can’t go beyond this room, understand?”

  Both girls nodded.

  They couldn’t risk word getting out. Not even to the people they thought they could trust, like Miranda.

  “Gavin? How close are we?” he asked, turning his attention back to the all-important rescue.

  “Close.”

  “Max?” Zain whirled. Given the tricky situation, they’d need back-up. Cavalry. A fast ride.

  “You tell me where, I’ll get us a detail.”

  Come on, kid...

  Kevin stared out the window at the long driveway leading from the old house. It’d been in the Barnes family for years. Long enough Kevin hadn’t been able to track down a different owner. It wasn’t Cliff’s. Inheritance had shunted it to a cousin or something, who used it as an occasional summer residence.

  He checked the time again.

  Things were not going according to plan.

  Not even a little.

  Kevin had never been so angry with Speckles in his entire life. Kevin also wasn’t looking forward to telling Speckles that face to face. He’d dragged his heels too long to do it over the phone.

  Headlights crested the top of the hill. A car rolled down the tree lined county road, barely visible through the trees. Kevin watched, peering at the top of the car, looking for lights or anything that would indicate a squad car.

  The sedan pulled onto the long drive and the headlights flipped off.

  It was a dark, four-door car.

  Not something Kevin recognized, but that was probably because Speckles was being overly cautious. It was likely a rental or a borrowed car.

  Kevin went to the front door and waited, tracking Speckles as he got out of the car and jogged to the front door. Kevin let him in, stomach sinking.

  Speckles had the bag.

  “Any problems getting here?” Kevin asked. He took the bag. No need to ask what was inside.

  “This place is damn hard to find.”

  “That’s the point.” Kevin turned and led the way to the kitchen. The shattered bits of the chair were stacked up out of the way. “I’ve been trying to quietly access the Dark Matter network, but I can’t get in without setting off an alert.”

  “Why are you trying to do that?” Speckles shed his rain coat and laid it over one of the remaining chairs.

  Time to face the music.

  “She doesn’t know what files I’m talking about. She’s clueless.” Kevin drew himself up to his full height, but Speckles still had a good six inches on him.

  “She what? Of course she has the files. Miranda’s keystroke program recorded Andrea copying the files.” Speckles gripped the back of the chair.

  “I cut her. She screamed like a stuck pig. If she knew, she’d have told me.”

  “You what?” Speckles’ face tinged red. “I told you, nothing visible.”

  “It was just her arms.”

  “What did I tell you?” Speckles enunciated each word carefully.

  “You wanted results. I wasn’t getting them. So I changed tactics. Sometimes, during this sort of thing, you have to break the rules.”

  “You think I don’t know that? I’m trying to not create a martyr here. Those fliers were a fucking terrible idea. She left and people were parading around with signs that said ‘I Stand With Andrea’. We do not want to make her any more of a stupid, viral symbol.”

  “You said to make her want to leave. I got her to leave.”

  “Yeah, well, it was a fucking bad idea.”

  “We have bigger problems.” Kevin gestured at the laptop. “I can’t find the files.”

  “She moved them. Hid them, maybe. Get her to tell you where they are.”

  “That’s what I’m saying. Either she doesn’t know, or she’s not going to tell me unless you give me the go-ahead to put more pressure on her.” Kevin
gave Speckles a pointed look. With the right amount of pressure, Kevin was pretty sure he could get just about anything out of Andrea.

  Speckles pursed his lips. He didn’t like things that didn’t go according to plan. And at this point, they were completely off the rails.

  “If you’re going that far...then finish it,” Speckles said.

  “Just so we’re clear, you’re okay with me killing her?” Kevin crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Make sure she’s never found. Leave enough evidence to pin it on Cliff. After that, do whatever you want with her.”

  Kevin grinned.

  That sounded like a much better plan than the stupid Trojan bullshit.

  “Now, what about—” Kevin’s phone ringing interrupted Speckles. “Who is it?”

  Speckles frowned and stared at the phone vibrating on the table.

  “Patricia. Now what?” Kevin sighed and snatched the phone up. It was the middle of the God damned night. What the hell did she want? “What?”

  “Kevin?” Patricia’s voice was high, thin—a lot like his mother’s had been.

  “Yeah. What?”

  “She called.”

  “Who?”

  “Andrea. She called Crystal somehow. Did she get your phone?”

  “What?” Kevin stared at Speckles in shock.

  “What’s going on?” Speckles’ eyes narrowed.

  “She called. They’re tracking it now,” Patricia said.

  Kevin dropped the phone on the counter, turned and sprinted for the stairs. Weak light shone from under the door.

  “Wait, what are you doing? Are you fucking crazy?” Speckles grabbed him. “She knows who I am.”

  “The crazy bitch called the damn cops. You have to leave. Now. I’ll fix this. Go!” Kevin shoved Speckles toward the door. “If you get caught, this whole thing is pointless. I’ll handle it. Go.”

  “Don’t contact me again.” Speckles pulled his phone out and began wiping it down with his shirt sleeve.

  “Toss that where no one will ever find it. Go now.” Kevin jerked the chair out from under the door knob. “When I come back up, you need to be gone.”

  “I’m out of here.” Speckles strode to the front of the house.