Stealth Moves

by Sanna Hines

Holly asked, “Are you always this chatty in dangerous situations?”

  “My first time.” Mike grunted as he struggled to his knees. “Can’t expect performance. Get ready.”

  The strange sensation of Mike nuzzling her backside threatened to burst out as nervous giggling. Holly sent her mind to its meditation place and stayed there until the spot where the glass pierced her skin stopped burning. Mike had the shard. He nudged the small of her back.

  Holly held her hands away from her body, wrists straining against the tape to keep it taut. Mike’s efforts to saw through plastic were halting before he found a steady rhythm. The tape separated, releasing her hands. She turned, flexed her fingers, and took the splinter from him to slit the bindings on her ankles. After she freed herself, she reached toward Mike’s legs, which had the fewest layers of tape.

  “Don’t waste time. I’m staying. Can’t climb with one arm.” He nodded toward Holly’s left. “Up there, on the ceiling, is a maintenance hatch. Hoist yourself out. I’m guessing we’re between floors four and five. Fifteen feet to the roof. You can make it, even with only moonlight to see by. Machine room up top has windows and a door.”

  “No, Mike! I can’t leave you here.”

  “Just cut my good arm free. I’ll do the rest.”

  Holly sawed the tape between Mike’s right arm and his chest. “Get help,” he said, “and, uh…when we’re out of this, you want to have coffee?”

  “Coffee?” Holly finished the last cut. “I’m buying a bottle of champagne and drinking it all.”

  “You’re missing the point: You want to have coffee with me?”

  “Like a date?” she asked, dumbfounded.

  “Well, no, not really. I mean—”

  “Uh-uh. I’ve had enough not-really dates for a lifetime.”

  “Real date it is.” Mike’s grin was lopsided, a bit silly, a bit shy. Holly saw fear in his eyes and how hard he was trying to hide it. She wondered why she wasn’t afraid. I’m too angry. She’d use her anger to save them both.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” Holly did her best Arnold impression. “Ah’ll be baaaach.”

  The elevator’s ceiling was an easy reach. Holly lifted the panel and shoved it open. She pulled herself out of the car onto its grimy top. With the panel back in place, she waited for her eyes to adjust to moonlight.

  There was no big, central rope to climb like she’d seen in movies. Three narrow cables ran between guiderails set close to the back wall. Brackets supporting the rails stuck out far enough to make steps. Holly was reaching for the nearest bracket just as the elevator car started moving up.

  Oh, shit! She sprawled flat on the car roof, afraid of being crushed when the elevator reached its highest point. The car stopped, leaving a sizable gap between her and the machine room, but Holly held still. Ear to the hatch, she heard the metal gate slide open, and Kyle Blake’s voice.

  “He wants you,” Kyle said. “Hey! Where’s the chick?”

  “Caught another ride. She’s probably having cappuccinos with the cops by now.”

  Kyle swore. “It’s your fault! If you hadn’t screwed things up, we’d be okay.”

  “You can get out of this,” Mike said. “It’s not too late. Claim you were brainwashed— Stockholm Syndrome. People will buy it.”

  “And do what—go home? They have my whole life planned. They don’t understand me at all.”

  “I know how it is,” Mike sympathized. “My dad decided I’d be a lawyer—no ifs, ands or buts.”

  “And you’re okay with that?” Kyle demanded. “You let him push you around?”

  “My father’s dead. Too late to work things out with him. Your parents are alive, and they paid big money to get you back. I’d say they care.”

  “My money,” Kyle raged. “Mine! Grandparents gave it to me. Couldn’t get at it for years and years, though, because of legal stuff. But why the hell am I telling you this? You’re just trying to stall, to waste time. I’ll bet the chick didn’t get away—she’s in the elevator shaft, right? Come down!” Kyle yelled. “Now. Or…or I’ll break his other arm.”

  You’ve trained for this all your life, Holly told herself. Get the timing right. “Don’t hurt him,” she pleaded, hoping she sounded terrified. “I’ll do what you say.”

  “No!” Mike shouted.

  But Holly already had the ceiling panel open. She looked through it at Kyle standing in the doorway, a hammer-shaped weapon in his hand. She’d have to be fast.

  Holly let herself down on bent arms, then shot out her legs, hitting Kyle square in the chest with both feet. In the terrifying second of her reverse swing, she watched him stagger and thought he might recover enough to shoot her with the hammer thingy. But Kyle wasn’t in shape, and when she dropped onto her left foot to front kick his jaw with the right, his body smacked into the hall wall, skull impacting plaster with a highly satisfying thump. He sat down hard, looking stunned, before his eyes closed.

  Zarah’s words came back to her: “Trust no one, especially an enemy you think you’ve defeated.”

  Holly pounced on Kyle, twisting his arm to control him if he was faking. He didn’t stir, even when she shoved his shoulder to turn him face down. Kyle was heavy, but adrenaline gave her strength and made her mind race. Foot on his neck, ready to stomp if he moved while she pulled off her belt, Holly risked a moment of vulnerability until her knee was over his kidney. Kidney blows were nasty, disabling. If Kyle woke, she’d hurt him; he wouldn’t be able to grab her before she tied the belt around his hands. As a final safeguard, she turned him face up, yanked off his shoe and used his sock as a gag. Holly was stripping off Kyle’s belt to tie around his legs when he began to groan.

  Mike had been silent through all of this. Holly heard him ask, “Is he down?”

  “Yes,” Holly whispered, ducking her head around the elevator door. “I’ll find something better than a piece of glass to cut you free.”

  “Hurry! We don’t know where Brent is. Or the girl.”

  Holly was shocked. “You think she’s in on this?”

  “No way to tell. Step it up.”

  There were three doors on this floor. Holly went toward the open one.

  It seemed part workroom/part bedroom. In the middle of the space, a wooden table held metal parts, papers and a computer. An armchair below the one high window faced an old-style TV with a game console. Holly found a plastic knife next to a rumpled bed and night table littered with take-out food containers. So this is where Kyle’s been hanging out, Holly thought. Where was Ariel Kelly?

  Nearby, a door hinge creaked. Footsteps in the hall. Holly stepped behind Kyle’s door.

  A man said, “What the hell?”

  Not Brent’s voice. Dan’s!

  Holly dashed into the hall crying, “Thank God, you got my message!” Her relief was so great, she wanted to throw her arms around him, but Dan was bent over Kyle, checking the belt binding his wrists. He looked up. “Holly? Why are you here?” and then, “What message? Mrs. T. called me. Said she had an intruder.”

  “Wasn’t us,” Holly said. “We didn’t get anywhere near her. We were looking for the motorcycle. It’s in the garage.”

  “Who’s ‘us’?”

  “Mike’s here. He’s tied up in the elevator.”

  “That’s not good.” Dan took the sock from Kyle’s mouth. “You okay?” he asked the boy.

  “No,” Kyle began. “Bitch laid me out. I hit my head, probably have a concussion. I’m—”

  The sock went back in Kyle’s mouth. “God, I hate whiners,” Dan said, “and this is no time to read him his rights. Your work?”

  Holly nodded, asking, “Where’s Brent? He has these weird sound weapons. One’s next to you.” She pointed at the hammer Kyle dropped when she kicked him. “Brent might—”

  “Don’t worry about Brent. I’ve got him under control. Just get Mike and…” Dan stuffed the weapon into his belt before he unbuckled Kyle’s legs and lifted the boy to his feet. “…join us up fron
t.” Dan marched Kyle toward his room.

  “I told you everything would work out,” Holly told Mike as she cut through the last of his wraps with the plastic knife. “Except we haven’t found Ariel.”

  They looked at each other. Mike said what Holly was thinking. “Let’s hope she’s alive.”

  He had to wiggle his feet before standing. Shaking out his right hand, Mike asked, “What did Dan say about an intruder?”

  “I don’t know. I was so excited to see him, I didn’t pay attention. Can you walk now?”

  Mike said he was fine, but Holly watched him rub his left arm and shoulder all the way to front room. When they entered, the boy was handcuffed to the desk chair, looking furious while Dan inspected the hammer-shaped weapon. Dan turned toward them, lifted the hammer and waved it at Mike. “Other side of the room. Sit on the bed. Both of you.”

  Holly yelled, “What are you doing?”

  Dan gazed at the weapon’s barrel. “Not entirely sure. This gizmo has a couple of settings. Must mean it goes from bad to worse. Can’t guarantee I’ll get it right, so you’d better stay put and shut up.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Day 14—Friday night

  “Everything’s gone to shit,” Dan said. He pushed the armchair to the head of the table and sprawled in it, setting the weapon close to his right hand. Eyes flitting between Kyle to his left and Holly and Mike to his right, he propped his chin on his knuckles. “Cryin’ shame,” he muttered. “I had damage control all squared away. Brent takes off with the van and bike. He drops the kids somewhere, then calls me and I ‘find’ them. I lose the reward money because I’m a cop, but I move to the head of the line for detective.”

  “Where’s Ariel?” Holly asked. “Is she all right?”

  Kyle jerked his chin toward the doorway in the room’s front right corner. Dan turned his head. “What’s that—a bathroom?”

  Kyle nodded. Dan said, “Girl’s probably giving herself a mani-pedi. Has she seen Brent?” Kyle shook his head.

  “Perfect. Nice, neat wrap until you two showed up. Now what am I to do with you?”

  “Release us,” Mike said. “Arrest Brent. Do your job.”

  “What happened to you, Dan? I thought you were a good cop,” Holly said.

  Dan slammed his fist on the table. “I am a good cop—a damned good cop—or I wouldn’t have figured this out! Oh, I had a little help from that one.” He pointed at Kyle. “He just had to cut the school emblem from the jacket he left behind. No kidnapper takes trophies during a snatch.” Dan turned a sour face to Mike and Holly. “And he couldn’t ditch his backpack with phone and tablet inside because he wanted those things. Amateur, runaway moves.”

  “The Kelly girl went without a fight on a busy street in broad daylight. I pegged them as lovers, heading out together. The Israeli aunt hanging around and the mother who wanted to return to her homeland added up to a family conspiracy.” Dan stopped, watching Kyle jiggling in his chair. “No? You took her against her will? Why?”

  Kyle pursed his lips, pushing the gag forward.

  “Holly, go over there and take the sock out of his mouth. I want to hear this.” Dan trained the weapon on her.

  She yanked out the gag and stood beside the boy, gauging her distance from Dan: no more than six feet, but the table was in the way. Not time yet.

  “I’m warning you, Blake,” Dan said, “no whining. Just answer the questions. Why did you kidnap Kelly?”

  Kyle ran his tongue around his mouth. “I was lonely. Hiding all week while the aide was downstairs got old. It was like the play we were in, The Diary of Anne Frank. I thought about Ari and how she’d handle being penned up. When I got stuck on weapon design, I decided I needed her. We’re making sonic weapons,” Kyle noted. “Old tech, mostly ignored because no one found a way to keep the size down and the power up. We did,” he said proudly.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Dan said. “We got that. Go on.”

  “Ari sees multiple solutions to problems. She’s really hard to beat at chess, and—”

  Dan looked at his watch and made a wind-it-up circle in the air. Kyle spoke faster. “I thought she wanted to disappear, that she’d be glad. I mean all she did this year was rave about Israel and bitch that her dad wouldn’t let her live there. So we give her a way out, and what does she do? Shuts up. Won’t talk; won’t listen. Won’t help at all.”

  “You tried to pick her brain but she refused,” Dan summarized. “Interesting. When were you going to kill her?”

  “Kill Ari?” Kyle’s eyes popped. “Never! Stealth says we have to test the weapon before we sell it to the feds tomorrow, but it’s ready now. It shouldn’t hurt her. At least,” Kyle said slowly, “I don’t think it will.” His face turned gleeful, sly. “They’re coming here—the men who want the weapon.”

  Dan’s eyebrows arched. “Not much time, then. Why did you kill Natalie Porcini?”

  “I didn’t!” Kyle cried. “I wasn’t even here when it happened. Natalie was supposed to help us with math, but she cried all the time, Brandon said. He wanted her to shut up, thought someone would hear. He used the weapon before it was finished when Stealth told him not to. And no one knew about that aneurism thing in her head. We only heard about it later from the news.”

  “Stealth? Brandon? Who the hell are they?”

  “It’s complicated.” Kyle sighed. “You call him Brent, but Stealth hates that name. Said he stopped being Brent when his brother died and the shrinks pounced. He had to be stealthy so they wouldn’t discover Brandon was still with him.”

  “Bullshit. I went to Brandon Tinsley’s funeral.” Dan frowned. “Don’t tell me there’s a ghost here. Seriously. You start talking ghosts, you get that sock shoved down your throat.”

  “No, no!” Kyle sputtered. “No ghost. Brandon’s...” He paused, searching the ceiling for the words he wanted. “Brandon’s like, uh…like Stealth’s other half. They take turns being out—I mean taking control of their body. Stealth was always in charge because he grew up. Brandon’s still the age he was when he died—fourteen? Fifteen? But lately, Brandon’s been out a lot.”

  “You didn’t think this was over the top? This whole double identity thing, I mean.”

  “Oh, how can you understand? You’re not like us. You’re not smarter than everyone else. It’s isolating; other people bore you. But when I met Stealth online, and later, at the café, it was…” A look of wonder came over Kyle’s face. “It was—”

  “Love at first sight,” Dan interrupted. “I knew more than brain games were going on here. You two got a thing?”

  Kyle hung his head. “Stealth can’t touch anyone, and Brandon… Brandon likes girls. But maybe, in time—”

  “Enough.” Dan looked at his watch again. “Where the hell is Brent? I told him to pack his shit and get up here. He’s taking too long.”

  “You think you can make Stealth leave me behind?” Kyle cried. “Leave this house? He won’t. Brandon can’t live anywhere but here. Stealth needs the money to buy the house so Brandon will always be with him.”

  “This just keeps getting better and better.” Dan rolled his eyes. “One guy; two personalities. Both nuts. Which one told his mother he was buying a motorcycle?”

  “Sounds like Brandon.”

  “You remember the motorcycle wreck I had just after high school?” Dan asked Mike. “No? Maybe we’d lost touch by them. Anyway, I was laid up for a month while they rebuilt my jaw. Karina told me to warn her brother off bikes, but when I came here to see him, he sounded funny, like a little kid. Looked like a kid, too, with a Tripl Thret tee shirt and a silly grin. Kept asking questions about how to ride old-style bikes.”

  “That’s how you knew he was planning to steal my dad’s motorcycle during the concert,” Holly gushed. “You realized he was the kidnapper!” The longer Dan bragged, the more time she had to disarm him. He wasn’t going down easy like Kyle. Dan was trained, alert, experienced. He knew how to protect himself.

  “The bike th
ing clinched it, but the damned dog was the real giveaway,” Dan said. “Karina bought a puppy for her mother. Brent said it ran off. Then an identical dog appears during the Kelly kidnapping and in the building with Porcini’s body. Later, you tell me it balks at the Tinsley garage. Still didn’t make the connection until Karina complained about Brent leaving her to babysit their mother two weekends in a row. The van broke down on the way home from Maine, Brent told her. He left it in Portsmouth for repairs. The pick-up date was the day you found the body—a body that had been there about a week.”

  “Van…Portsmouth. Brent’s the asshole who broke my arm,” Mike growled.

  “How do you know so much about Portsmouth?” Holly cut in. “The news didn’t mention the dog or us.”

  “Friend in the FBI.”

  “So there was something you didn’t lie about,” Holly observed.

  Dan’s lip curled. “You are such a pain in the ass, Holly. I thought a little charm would throw you off the scent, but really—” Dan looked at Mike. “Who’d want her when he could have Karina? We’re getting married soon as she shakes you loose.”

  “You’re Karina’s back-door man.” Mike’s eyes narrowed. “I knew there was someone even when we were living together, just didn’t know who.”

  Dan’s face turned savage. “I told you I wanted her, way back in the Sidley days. You laughed.”

  “Every guy wanted Karina.” Mike shrugged. “You were a sophomore; we were seniors. Snowball’s chance in hell.”

  “So she picked you, you sonuvabitch, and then you dumped her when her brother died, when she needed you most.”

  “Karina shut down. She pushed everyone away. Six years went by before we reconnected.”

  “Not going to happen to me. I’ll protect her, make this scandal disappear. No one’s going to know her crazy brother kidnapped students from the school where she works. I’d do anything for her.” Dan thumped his chest. “I deserve her.”

  “So right,” Mike said easily. “You do.”

  Dan sprang at Mike, launched a fist at his face, stopped a hair’s breadth from Mike’s nose. “I should deck you, but I need you awake, Mikey boy. You’re going to help out here.”