Redemption Lost

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “Like I said, I didn’t help anyone leave.” This woman was wicked to the core. Christy did not want to cross her.

  “Unfortunately,” she said. “The evidence says otherwise, or have you forgotten that we found you in unauthorized black clothes? Where did you get those clothes? Who brought them to you?” She thwacked Christy’s hand again. It throbbed. Both hands throbbed, and her leg ached. Her stomach growled, and the sour taste of vomit remained on her tongue.

  “I think some time in the box might do her good—loosen her tongue.”

  “What? I’m telling you the truth.”

  She brought her face within inches of Christy’s. “You were found in the infirmary. How did you get there?”

  “I walked. When the fire alarm sounded, I didn’t know what to do, so I hurried over there.”

  “Lies.” She turned to Mara. “Get her to the box.” The gray lady swept toward the door.

  “Why even bother with this one?” Mara asked.

  “The boss doesn’t want her touched.” She disappeared behind the door.

  Matron Mara scowled at her before stomping toward the door and leaving.

  She was going to the box. Whatever it was, it made her knees go weak and her heart almost stop. This was not good.

  Chapter 23

  MARYBETH

  The party ended. Marybeth watched as the guests left, carrying balloons and party favors with them. About half an hour later, her phone rang—Jeremy.

  “I got what we need.”

  Marybeth’s heart raced. As easy as that, he’d done it. “You’re going to have to tell me what you did at some point.”

  “I’m going to three-way Ace in.”

  After a couple clicks, she heard, “All hell’s breaking loose here. Division’s dark—no electricity, no communication at all. It’s a wonder they’re still functioning.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Cyber attack. Patriotware.”

  Marybeth sucked in a huge breath. This was bad.

  “Messing with their crawler put them on to us. Other division headquarters are working their tails off to stave off a similar attack, while at the same time protecting Division D.C. The IT section of Division has moved remote. All resources are focused on fighting. I think we’re winning, but it’s going to take a while.”

  “I bet the director’s pretty mad.”

  “He’s too busy to be mad. The firestorm will hit after all is secure.”

  “So we’re flying blind and on manual until the threat is over?” There was a disappointed tone to Jeremy’s voice.

  “Yes.”

  “We can do manual.”

  “No,” Ace said, his voice calm and sure. “You can’t. The director pulled the plug on your mission until this threat is neutralized.”

  “No. Miller is leaving in the morning to take care of some mess at the factory. I’m going with him.”

  “No, Jeremy. I don’t think you understand. You’ll have no support.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have to go. This is Christy’s life on the line here. Miller called Alvarez after the party,” Jeremy sounded giddy. “That man has nerves of steel, I swear. He has to go take care of the havoc one of the ‘new girls’ is causing.”

  “Christy.” Marybeth said, relief washing over her. It wasn’t a question. It had to be her.

  “Yes. The bad part is,” Jeremy said, “Miller used words like neutralize, take down, and use as an example. I have to get myself on that flight.”

  “Me, too.” Marybeth’s voice was shrill over the phone. She had to go with Jeremy. She shifted in her seat. “You’re not leaving me behind.”

  “Ace, we’re doing this. We don’t need Division; we’ve got it on our own. You just do what you have to to get HQ up and running again.”

  There was a pause. “Whatever you say, boss.”

  They hung up, and Marybeth settled in to sleep in her car. In the morning, she’d follow Miller and Jeremy to the airport. They’d figure out a plan from there. Jeremy had sounded confident—she tried to ignore the flutter of nervousness that rippled through her chest.

  Her phone rang. She startled awake and rubbed a crick out of her neck with one hand and answered the phone with the other. It was pitch black.

  “Hello?” There was no answer. She listened intently for any sound. All she could hear was the sound of fabric brushing up against a phone. She looked at the number. It was Jeremy’s. She figured it must be like earlier when he wanted her to hear what he was hearing. Something was up. She slipped her shoes back on and got ready for whatever came her way. If Jeremy needed her, she wanted to be ready. A thump, followed by the sound of scuffling and fighting came through the phone.

  Without thinking, Marybeth grabbed her go bag and ran toward the house, trying to work out the kinks from sleeping in the car. She flexed her fingers over and over again and took deep breaths to help her be ready for anything. Was he fighting Miller? No way. He’d have him down in seconds. One of Miller’s guards? Possibly. She tried the front door, but it was locked. She’d have to find a way in. She hustled along the outside of the house, but she stopped when she found a strange object on the ground. On closer inspection, it appeared to be a suction gadget attached to a large section of glass. She looked up and immediately discovered the hole in the window. Someone had lasered through the window and removed a chunk with the suction gadget. An intruder was inside then.

  By cutting the window, he’d avoided all security measures that were in place. Smart. The soft sounds of fighting continued. She climbed in, careful not to disturb any wires. Using Jeremy’s descriptions from earlier, she picked her way through the dark house, glad for the floor lighting that banished some of the dark. She took the stairs, hoping not to make a sound. She listened hard as she climbed. A stair creaked and she stopped, her ears perking up to listen for any sounds of anyone approaching.

  Twice more she had to stop and wait. She walked slowly down the hall, near the wall, hoping to avoid any squeaks in the flooring. She passed two rooms that obviously belonged to Miller’s young boys, art work covered them from top to bottom. The large door in the opposite direction was obviously the master suite. There was only one door left on the floor. It had to be the guest room, where Jeremy would have been staying. She tiptoed to it and put her ear to the door. She heard nothing. Had she come too late?

  Her breaths came hard and fast. She turned the door knob without a sound and slipped into the dark room, her hand sliding up the wall until it hit the light switch. She flipped on the light as she shut the door behind her. The intruder sat in the center of the room, bound to a chair and gagged. Jeremy sat on the bed with a gun, set up with a silencer, pointed at the man.

  Marybeth stayed by the door to listen for the senator since Jeremy had the situation under control. She stared at the man. He looked defiant—completely unwilling to talk.

  “As you might have guessed, I’m in a bit of a hurry,” Jeremy said in a low tone to the tied up man. “Because of this, I’m going to have to be a bit short tempered with my interrogation of you. I apologize upfront. What I need is quick, short answers. That’s all I ask.” While he spoke, he waved the gun around from the man’s foot, to his shin, to his knee, and up and up. The implication of the gesture was obvious. “I don’t want any sounds to come out of your mouth except for quiet answers. Anything less and I’ll be forced to take action. I don’t want to do that. You don’t want me to do that. Now. Who sent you?”

  Nothing. The man didn’t move to speak against his gag.

  And Jeremy shot the man’s foot. Just like that. Marybeth’s insides clenched, and she clasped her hands together, but she didn’t look away.

  The screams of the man were muffled by that same gag, but scream he did. Marybeth put her ear to the door to listen for any stirring outside the room. Her stomach filled with acid.

  “I’ll ask you again. Who sent you?”

  His mouth moved against the gag, so Jeremy removed it. His eyes were wide
and all defiance had left him, but his voice could not be heard. Jeremy moved closer. Still he could not hear. He moved closer and finally, he appeared to have heard something. His head flicked to Marybeth. “It’s Patriotware. He was alone, but now backup is on their way.”

  A rush of adrenaline coursed through her, begging her to run. The man grinned a horrible grin, his nose flaring.

  Jeremy didn’t seem affected. He replaced the gag, punched the man in the face. His head lolled to the side, and Jeremy put the man over his shoulder and carried him out of the room, past Marybeth without a word. Less than thirty seconds had passed since Marybeth entered the room. She marveled at his efficiency as she followed him almost silently through the hall and down the stairs, but she couldn’t pull it together enough to be calm like he was. Her hands trembled as they escaped. She looked up the stairs, thinking about the boys and praying they wouldn’t wake and witness this.

  Patriotware’s goon was a big man, yet Jeremy didn’t seem to be strained or burdened with the load. A trail of blood followed them as they went. Jeremy didn’t go to the front door, but instead veered right at the bottom of the steps and opened a closet. On the left was a wall of buttons. He punched in a code, the panel beeped and he shut the closet door and quickly made it to the front door, which he opened and went through. How had he gotten the code?

  Marybeth followed and shut the door after her. If people were coming, didn’t they need to get the kids out of the house. The whole family? The servants? She wanted to voice this opinion to Jeremy, but found herself out of breath following him. Once down the steps, Jeremy ran with the man, limp over his shoulder, all the way up the drive and to Marybeth’s car. She clicked the doors open with the fob in her pocket, thinking he wanted to put the man in her car.

  “Open the trunk,” he huffed, his exertion finally showing as he headed that way. She clicked the trunk button and it popped up. He plopped the man into the trunk. “Marybeth,” he breathed hard. “I’ll text Ace to see if he can get you any support. I doubt it. Be prepared to dispose of him on your own. I’m thinking this guy is bugged somehow, but it might be the house.”

  “Maybe both,” Marybeth said. “The house has to be bugged. All people involved with the app have bugged houses, right?”

  “I knew that,” Jeremy said, speaking fast. “I never should have used the phone inside the house. I guess since we couldn’t use our surveillance I wasn’t thinking about anyone else using any. Stupid.”

  “It’s understandable. What do we do now?”

  “Drive fast and far. Dump him twenty miles from here. It won’t keep Patriotware from coming to the senator’s house, but it might divert some of their men. I’m going to get the Millers out of the house.” He grimaced. “I hate being blind.”

  “You think they sent that man to kill you? Why?”

  “They must have overheard my conversation with Ace and realized we knew about the app. He was sent to kill me to cover their tracks, I’m sure.”

  Marybeth was already opening the driver’s door.

  “I’ll get Ace in on the conversation. Keep our connection open. Without Division’s help, we’re going to have to be creative to survive this. Go. Hurry. Meet us at the airport after. Be prepared to be a flight attendant.” She nodded and shut the door. As she drove off, she saw Jeremy running toward the house.

  Marybeth arrived at the airport at five a.m. She’d spent the ride to the airport deliberately subduing the memory of dumping the intruder on the side of the road. His body had rolled into the ditch—it was a picture she’d give anything to erase.

  The place was practically deserted. No agents were at any counters and only a lone custodian rode a large floor cleaning machine through the lobby area, leaving a trail of barely wet, but clean floor behind him. It wasn’t difficult to spy the Millers and Jeremy. They stuck out like sore thumbs, the lone customers in the area.

  The senator paced the floor, talking on the phone, and Marybeth heard snatches of what the senator was saying. It was obvious he was talking to a travel agent. She was sure it was one he used regularly—who else would answer their phone for a client so early in the morning? Marybeth wanted to go inside, but she knew there was no way she could without garnering attention, and she couldn’t be seen by the senator or else she wouldn’t be able to become his flight attendant.

  She stood outside until a couple uniformed workers walked up to the other door to the east of her. She had to act quickly. As the family’s attention was drawn to the two workers, Marybeth slid through the door closest her and detoured quickly into the bathroom using the large machine to cover her for a bit of the way as it made its last pass through the cavernous room. The airport would soon be waking up as the earliest flights prepared for take-off.

  She sighed with relief once in the restroom. She had made it and hadn’t been detected. The door creaked open behind her and she whirled. Apparently she hadn’t been as incognito as she thought. It was Jeremy. “You made it.”

  “I did. Four BMWs passed me going at a high rate of speed. I’m sure they were headed for the senator’s house.”

  “The family is going to Disneyland. All except for the senator, of course. He was in the middle of chartering a flight when the booking agent ran into a problem. He said he’d call them right back. Stay in here. You’ll need to get a uniform once I know what company he ends up chartering.”

  “Serious?” Marybeth huffed. “At least call me so I can listen in on what is happening.”

  “Okay.”

  He walked out, and immediately after the door shut, Marybeth got a call.

  Marybeth wanted to watch him in action, so she opened the door a crack. It gave her a look at a slice of the area. Jeremy wasn’t in it. She opened it a bit further and caught the senator’s family and him in the slice. She held the phone up to her ear instead of having it on speaker phone so that a passerby wouldn’t hear anything.

  “Did you get it all worked out?” Jeremy asked as he approached.

  “Yes.” The senator said. “They’re taking the first flight to California. We got the last three seats. Now I need to book my flight.”

  “Your flight? Aren’t you going with them?”

  “No. I have things I need to do.” Almost immediately, sweat pooled on his brow. “Just a minute.” He held up a finger and then fished his phone from his pocket and started talking quietly on it as he walked away.

  Chapter 24

  CHRISTY

  To her surprise, Christy was taken to the infirmary, one guard on each side of her, Matron Mara in back and this new matron in front. Guards stood in front of the infirmary as well. The escape had obviously triggered some sort of intense security protocol. As they entered, the guards acknowledged the new matron with a slight nod of the head. “Matron Halls.”

  Mara and Halls took her to the restroom and gave her a drink of water. Her boot clanked heavily on the tile floor, and a sharp pain radiated up her leg, followed by an intense ache. She clasped her hands together in an effort to stop them from shaking. The pain went straight to her chest and accosted her lungs. She closed her eyes to ward off the pain.

  Mara pulled her out of the bathroom, each step agony, and they moved toward a door at the end of the hall. Another guard greeted the matron in the same unobtrusive manner and opened the door for her. Stairs. A long flight of stairs. This couldn’t be good. Basements were never good.

  One guard went in first and the other gave her a little shove to follow. On the first step down, she collapsed into the guard in front of her. She slumped into him with a pathetic, oof, and he caught her with no difficulty. He picked her up and carried her down the stairs.

  The trip ended in a large room filled with clear boxes of all shapes and sizes. They appeared to be made of thick plexiglass. Small holes, not quite the diameter of an average pinky finger were drilled near the bottom and top of the boxes. They had hinged lids, and open locks hung from clasps in the front. Above them, black cloth draped down from the ceiling.
Some boxes were tall and thin, some short and squatty.

  Her attention was drawn to a small box-like shape covered with one of those black cloths. Muffled sobs came from within. But that had to be impossible. It was too small for a person to be inside. A wave of revulsion crashed into her. She couldn’t look away. Her heart thudded in her chest.

  Moaning came from another, somewhat bigger box across the room. There couldn’t be people in those boxes. And yet, they had said she was to be put in a box. Her eyes darted to the empty boxes and immediately, she felt a tremor go through her body. Beads of sweat formed on her upper lip, and she had to hold in a scream. Her nightmare was before her.

  Sharp shallow breaths found her mouth and lungs. Panic would soon set in, her claustrophobia flaring up. She would never be found if she was put in such a box. She wouldn’t be able to breathe.

  “How long am I going to be in the box?” She tried to hide her horror, but she wasn’t sure she accomplished that.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Matron Halls said. “That’s part of your punishment. Not knowing makes it harder to stand the time in the box.”

  Christy’s eyes darted between each of the covered boxes. There were three of them—but she only heard noise from two of them. Still, she was sure there was somebody in the third one. She’d probably been in there the longest and given up in despair. Maybe she was dead. The one that was the loudest had been in the least amount of time. She wondered what they had done to deserve the punishment.

  “Let’s try this one.” Matron Halls said and put her hand on a box. Christy couldn’t imagine ever fitting in it.

  Matron Mara said, “I think it might be a little small.”

  “We never really can tell until we give it a try. Let’s get her inside.” If she’d doubted it before, she now knew Matron Halls was pure evil. Matron Mara nodded.

  The guards moved her over and lifted her up and inside. She did not struggle. It would do her no good and would only feed the panic that gripped her insides. There was no hope of being able to sit inside.