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Forged Risk

Page 20

by Sidney Bristol


  “Your father made all the arrangements. I never knew what he was doing until he told me it was time to go, and you weren’t coming with me. It was never my choice. You have to understand. I wanted you with me, but your father needs you. He’s not as strong as he may see.”

  Felecia squeezed her eyes shut.

  Her father needed her?

  He wasn’t strong?

  Did a strong man lock a girl away for years of her life?

  No, her father was a manipulative, abusive bastard. Karen might be under his spell, but Felecia wasn’t. She’d lived those years alone with him, seen the ugly sides of him no one else did. Felecia knew the nightmare. Under all of that he just wanted to cover his own ass.

  She’d been nothing to him. Not a daughter, that was for certain.

  All this time she’d assumed he kept her alive because she reminded him of her dead mother. Now she knew all he had to do to see her again was get on a plane.

  “I love you, my darling girl. I love you so much. I’ve wanted us to be a family again, and maybe now we’ll get that chance.”

  Karen just wouldn’t stop. Her words kept twisting the knife in Felecia’s gut. She curled in on herself, as much as the cot would allow, and hugged the pillow.

  “Do you know you have a brother? His name is Jacob. I wanted to name him Alexander, but you know your father’s rules. Pick the most generic name, make them blend in. Jacob wants to meet you. He only speaks English though. Well, Spanish, but living here that’s almost necessary. Maybe you could teach him others? Your father said you’re very good at languages. He says you’re good at many things.”

  By some mercy Karen stopped speaking. Only, the tears had started.

  Felecia buried her face in the pillow.

  How could a woman who’d abandoned her claim to love her so much? It was hypocrisy. And the idea of them being a family? That was a pipedream. Dad had never been a father. He was her father thanks to a well-timed ejaculation. He’d never been a parent, never taught her anything that didn’t benefit him. He used her and kept her locked up. That wasn’t love.

  Felecia turned her face from the pillow. It was hard to breathe.

  Without another word the footsteps began to fade.

  Karen was leaving.

  Felecia almost wanted to tell her to come back, to share more about Jacob.

  She was curious about the boy. He was what? Eight? Less than half her age. Maybe this lifestyle hadn’t tainted him. Maybe he was still good inside, pure.

  Could Felecia warn him away? Somehow save him from the inevitable destruction that would befall him simply by being born into this family?

  If Felecia got free, she’d find Jacob. She’d find him and take him away from all of this. Her childhood had been stolen from her, but his didn’t need to be. He could grow up happy, healthy, safe. Everything she’d wanted but couldn’t have.

  She rolled onto her back and crammed the pillow under her head.

  What came next?

  She fingered the bracelet.

  If Evan was right, he knew where she was. He’d be coming for her. She still didn’t understand why the others had pulled him back when her father’s men had come for her. Something about that final glimpse of him, his face twisted in rage, blue eyes blazing, the muscles in his arms bulging, hadn’t seemed right.

  What happened after he came for her?

  In her fantasy world, Evan rescued her and her brother. Dad and Karen were arrested. All of the records were found. Felecia would get a new lease on life, free from all the stress.

  From there it was like one of the many sitcoms she’d watched. The sister raising her little brother while working a few part-time jobs and living in an apartment way above her pay-grade.

  If this were one of those holiday movies, there’d be a man to sweep her off her feet.

  In her imagination that was Evan. He embodied everything she’d thought a man should be. He was kind and caring. He’d given her a chance when no one else would. She wanted to get to know him better, away from the stress and craziness that was her life. She wanted to be normal with him. To grab dinner, watch boring TV and find out all his quirks.

  She sighed.

  It was a nice dream, but it was still a dream.

  Best-case scenario she got to go free, but she didn’t think Evan would want anything to do with her. Not really. He had a big, important job and she was a nobody with nothing to her name. Those facts stung, but there they were. Evan deserved someone better than her. Someone who could actually remember the name they’d been born with. Someone who hadn’t been forced to kill a man.

  She closed her eyes and listened, exploring the space with her senses. Lying here daydreaming wasn’t helping anything, especially not herself.

  What could she smell?

  Dust. Despite the well-prepared nature of the building, it hadn’t been in use lately. At least not actively. They’d clearly moved in, probably in the last day or so.

  Someone was smoking, likely trying to stay out of sight. Dad never had liked cigarettes, though she didn’t know why.

  What could she hear?

  She turned her head a bit and strained to listen.

  At first it was silence broken only by the hum of the bulbs overhead. But under that she could make out doors opening and closing along with the muted sound of voices. Men’s voices. Dad or the men, she couldn’t tell.

  Felecia cracked one eye open and scanned the ceiling.

  There.

  A red light gave the camera away.

  Someone was watching her, as always.

  Did she begin inspecting her cell now looking for weaknesses? Or did she wait? How long would it take Evan to come after her? How badly would his people want her?

  Though at this point it wouldn’t be her they came after. It would be her father. And that presented a whole other problem.

  He had to know he was the target. Which meant he was likely preparing to move everyone.

  That sent a chill through her.

  She touched the plastic bracelet. Evan had shown her where the tracking device was in it. He could follow and find her so long as she wore it. At the very least his people would come after her father, which meant if Felecia wanted free she needed to stay close to the one person she wanted to get away from.

  It was a neat trap she’d been caught in.

  Felecia blew out a breath and closed her eyes again. She really did need sleep for what was to come.

  Somewhere in the building something banged, like a door. The pounding of feet made her tilt her head.

  Who was rushing around? And why?

  A boom so loud it seemed to shake the very concrete foundation resounded through the space. A sprinkling of dust and random debris rained down on her.

  Felecia sat up, gripping the bars of the cot and stared as five men rushed through the room and on toward the sound. Adrenaline made her senses heightened.

  What the hell was that?

  Karen rushed in on the heels of the men, headed straight for her with wide, fearful eyes.

  “Come on, we don’t have time. People are attacking the building,” she said.

  People were attacking the building? Was this some crazy American action flick?

  No, it was Evan.

  Karen muttered curses and fit different keys into the lock.

  Felecia got up, watching behind her for someone with muscle.

  “Who is it? What’s going on?” she asked, temporarily lifting her ban on speaking to this woman.

  Karen lifted her head and stared at Felecia with a familiar, stubborn glare. “I don’t know, but you, Jacob and I are getting out of here.”

  Karen meant it.

  Felecia held her bitter laugh inside as Karen gave a little cry of victory.

  She swung the cell door open.

  “Come on,” she said.

  Felecia continued to stand there.

  She could go free, but with this woman? After everything she’d done?

 
; Karen stepped into the cell. “Daughter, I know you have questions. Right now isn’t the time for answers. We have to do what we have to do.”

  That last sentence struck a chord in Felecia.

  She had to do what she had to do.

  Felecia struck out, punching Karen in the face. Surprised, Karen stumbled back, eyes wide, her hand going to her cheek. Felecia didn’t hesitate. She dove at her, using her elbow to drive the other woman back.

  It was strange. Felecia’s memories of her mother was of a tough and tumble woman who’d taken on two grown men with a knife. They’d intended to rob them and wound up getting robbed in return.

  Karen wasn’t that woman.

  She crumpled up on the floor, keys forgotten as she stared at Felecia with fear.

  “You are not my mother. Olga—my mother—she died.” She bent and scooped up the keys then backed out of the cell as gunfire sounded somewhere in the bowels of the building. “Olga wouldn’t have been this weak. She was strong.”

  Felecia swung the cell door shut.

  “Wait!” Karen threw herself at the door too late.

  Felecia ignored the woman. She needed to find a brother she’d never met while avoiding the gunfire. At least she was still wearing the Kevlar vest Evan had insisted on.

  Evan.

  She was going to find that man. He’d come for her. He kept his promises. He was more than she deserved and she knew if she could just find him everything would be okay. Somehow.

  19.

  Wednesday. Old meat packing plant. Austin, Texas.

  Evan was beyond grateful that the FBI men and women who’d been able to answer the call today were highly trained and ready for anything. He still didn’t think they were prepared for what they were about to do, but neither had any of them balked when Logan laid out the plan.

  Now all they had to do was execute it.

  He prayed Felecia was locked up in some safe, out of the way corner. It would kill him if they went to all this and something happened to her. Of course, she wasn’t necessarily the target. The intel they believed had been removed from Karen’s residence was.

  If they got that then maybe Felecia would get her life.

  “Team One is a go,” Logan said, his breathing labored.

  Evan knew from their walk-through that Logan and his team were making that first harrowing approach to the door. Evan ticked off the seconds and rocked forward on the balls of his feet.

  His team was situated near the loading docks. With the activity going on surrounding two eighteen wheelers, it stood to reason that the bulk of the fighting would happen here as well. Which was why Evan and Tucker were going to pinch the opposition between them.

  Evan would rather head into the building. He wanted to find Felecia, but he also had to follow orders and ensure she was safe from the people holding her.

  They all had their jobs.

  A blast shook the old meat packing plant.

  The small figures on the docks burst into activity. They didn’t hesitate. There wasn’t any confusion.

  These were trained men. They knew what they were about.

  Please be safe, Felecia.

  That was the last thought Evan spared for her.

  He banged on the roof of the ballistic truck shouting, “Go!”

  The vehicle lumbered forward. He dropped into the interior and closed the top hatch.

  The dozen men and women on his team stared back at him, their faces calm. On the inside he knew each was stretched tight, ready to do this. They were a lot like him.

  “Remember, there are two women and a child we want alive. Shoot only if you have to,” Evan said.

  He wasn’t sure if the other teams were reminding their people that not everyone had to die today, but he hoped they were.

  The ballistic truck skidded to a stop.

  This was their stop.

  “Snipers,” Evan called out.

  Two men and one woman moved into position. The men slid aside plates to reveal openings just large enough for them to shoot out of while the woman opened the hatch, using the top as a shield while she set up.

  The first shots rang out, hitting the truck.

  It had begun.

  Evan wished it hadn’t come to this, but here they were.

  The two men at the rear of the truck pushed the doors open. They moved as a team, covering each other as they returned fire and moved forward, establishing vantage points. Other members of the team followed suit. Evan was one of the last to exit the vehicle into the chaos. He took up position, but didn’t fire. Instead he took in the scene, dissecting their position, the numbers, everything.

  Tucker’s team was set up parallel to them on the other corner of the building. The men working the docks had pulled back to the loading area and were using what they could for cover. Between the two FBI teams, they outnumbered Obran’s men.

  Evan heard the occasional update from the other four teams, but it was mostly drowned out in the gunfire.

  Obran’s men could hold them here until it was all over. They had the advantage of high ground and cover so long as their bullets lasted.

  “Stay here,” Evan told the men nearest to him.

  He stayed low and sprinted to the front of the closest eighteen wheeler. Bullets hit the ground spraying him with gravel, but never came close to hitting him. He skidded to a stop, the grill of the truck at his back.

  “Evan, what the hell?” Tucker said in his ear.

  Evan glanced to his left and caught sight of Tucker behind the other ballistic truck. He tapped his comm and said, “Hold position until I signal.”

  He muted the mic immediately, dropped to his knees and began crawling under the truck.

  The diesel fumes made his eyes water. Someone had hit the tanks, no doubt. These trucks wouldn’t be going far.

  He kept crawling, watching the loading docks, but the line of FBI had their full attention.

  “Evan, move your ass,” Tucker said. “You might have been spotted.”

  A head popped up over the ledge of the loading dock peering at him.

  It was a mistake that man would never make again.

  In a brief moment where all shots seemed to stop, a long blast sounded off.

  Evan tasted bile. He could hear the sound of the body hitting the concrete.

  Why did it have to come to this?

  He kept going, ignoring the way the gravel scraped and all the bruises. Against all odds he made it to the very edge of the loading dock. He put his back against the wall of concrete and began pulling the canisters off his belt.

  There were only four.

  They would have to do.

  He yanked a pin and tossed up over his shoulder.

  Another pin, another toss.

  Again and again the canisters pinged off the concrete.

  The first explosion of light and smoke deafened Evan. He could hear Tucker’s voice urging the men forward.

  Evan shook his head, clearing it and rose to his feet, gun in hand. Smoke billowed along the dock. He vaulted up. Men scattered back, blinking or rubbing their eyes. He kicked guns away as the FBI rushed toward him.

  Already men pealed aside, restraining the stunned men.

  Evan peered around, but there was no woman or child among them.

  He lifted his hand to his comm. “Status? Anyone find Felecia?”

  “Negative,” Logan responded.

  “No,” Kelsey said between gasps for air followed by a gunshot. The sound cut off, likely from her muting her mic.

  The battle for the loading docks was over, and to Evan’s estimation there was only two fatalities. He glanced over his shoulder and found the female sniper standing at his back, watching the crowd.

  “You’re with me. Come on,” he said and headed for the doors.

  Tucker could hold this entrance with the manpower he had. Evan just needed to move fast and be deadly if the need arose.

  Two more men fell in with them, going where Evan led.

  A
s they neared the doors, their strides changed. They stepped lighter, watched every shadow.

  Evan drew up to the side of the doors, peering into what had once been a general holding area for livestock. The area was cleared now, though a few posts and panels remained.

  A familiar blue van sat still in the middle.

  Felecia had been here.

  “Stay close. We’re looking for a boy and two women, understand?” He didn’t wait to hear their answers, just strode ahead.

  He’d crossed maybe a dozen yards when he noticed what looked like action figures lying on the concrete.

  Toys.

  The kind a young boy might play with.

  Evan held his hand up and circled to the left of the van.

  One of the doors wasn’t fully shut.

  Coincidence?

  He crept forward, hating what he had to do. No matter how much he wanted to protect the kid, he couldn’t compromise the safety of himself or his team.

  Evan stayed low, coming to a stop next to the van. He sucked in a breath, reached out and flung the door open. At the same moment he pivoted on his knee, gun up—and stared into the pale, terrified face of a boy with Felecia’s eyes.

  Evan swept the interior of the van quickly.

  The boy was alone.

  By some miracle he hadn’t been hurt.

  Evan let his rifle hand from the shoulder strap and picked up one of the action figures.

  “Hey, there. Sorry to scare you,” he said softly and offered the plastic toy to the boy. “I’m looking for my friend, Felecia. Have you seen her?”

  The boy licked his lips, glancing from the toy to Evan. “Felecia. My mom said my sister’s new name is Felecia.”

  “Yeah, I think you’re her brother.” Evan edged closer. “I need to find her. Do you know where she is?”

  The boy shook his head.

  “What’s your name?” Evan asked.

  Felecia’s brother shrank away from Evan. He really did have her eyes. It was uncanny.

  “I don’t want to hurt you. That would make Felecia sad.” Evan set the toy on the floor of the van in easy reach of the boy. “My name’s Evan.”

  The boy’s gaze flitted to the toy then back to Evan. Someone had tried to train him, to make him careful, but he was still a kid. He reached out and grabbed the toy.

 

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