“That was Fletch, wasn’t it? On the phone?” Clark squints his eyes and looks at me suspiciously.
“None of your business,” I snap, still shocked that we indeed managed to lose a suspect in this room, like we’d threatened the man with earlier. It’ll be a lot more than one simple form to resolve this one, though. Then it occurs to me that we didn’t lose a suspect at all, Clark did. And he doesn’t look as horrified as he should be.
“If it’s related to the case, it’s very much my business.” Clark faces me, with his hands on his hips.
“It was the girl from last week. She’s in a spot of trouble and needs my help,” I explain, while maintaining eye contact with Clark. He’s good at spotting a liar, here’s to hoping I have the skills to fly under his radar.
Why is he so keen to press me for information? And how come he doesn’t care someone just killed himself with his pen? How do I know I can even trust Clark at all? It wouldn’t be beyond an organization like Nexus to plant a mole deep inside the anti-terrorism unit itself. That seems like exactly the kind of play a guy like Fletch would make.
“I’ve been wondering about that girl; what was her name? How did she end up involved?” Clark asks. “A friend of yours?”
“Not quite. I’d never met her before that day.”
“Right.” Clark takes a step forward, looking me up and down. “You seemed quite… Familiar…”
I shrug, careful not to let my suspicions show. “We clicked. So what?”
“I just don’t get it.”
“I didn’t ask for your understanding. I don’t stick my nose in your private life, do I? Anyway, the fact is, she’s called for my help, and I’m afraid there’s a bit of urgency to it, so I’m going to go ahead and leave now.”
“What about this?” Clark nods his head towards the dead guy.
“Don’t ask me; that’s your pen sticking out of his throat. You handle it. I’m sure it’ll resolve itself once the boss lady reviews the surveillance footage of the interrogation. Nothing to worry about, right?” I ask.
“Right.”
I shove my phone back into my pocket, glance at the dead suspect, then Clark one last time and exit the room.
Wow . If Clark indeed is involved, or even if he isn’t, I sure hope he doesn’t come after me and jeopardize everything. X marks the spot, Fletch had said. I’m going to have to examine the body of the guy from the airport, and I can’t afford to have an audience when I do.
This could get messy, but I know it’s what I have to do. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to Tess that I could have prevented.
I navigate my way through the corridors, making sure I’m not overlooked as I head for the autopsy room.
HQ is quiet most days; field agents - as their name suggests - tend to spend most of their time out in the field. Only the most bare bones back office staff stays behind here. And, of course, the pencil-pushers at the top. It’s only because of the interrogation that Clark and I are even at the office today.
I do a quick scan through the round window in the door; the clinical white examination room looks to be empty. I swipe my badge to release the lock, while already trying to formulate a suitable justification for my presence here in case the logs are checked later. It all depends on what I find inside. What Fletch wants me to exchange for Tess’s safety.
Once inside, I don’t need to look far for the body. The refrigerated air, combined with the sight of the dissected cadaver on the main plateau in the center of the room, give me the shivers. There he is.
I step up closer to the dead man. His expression is calm now, disguising the violent manner in which the poison took his life at the airport. One might think he was asleep, except his chest cavity has already been sliced open and some organs removed and sent off for analysis as part of the autopsy.
His arms are placed neatly along his side, and only now do I get a look at the intricate tattoos covering his shoulders and upper arm. Multiple black bands of geometrical shapes are twisted and wound together in a pattern reminiscent of a Celtic knot. I follow the pattern up and down his arm with my fingertip, instinctively looking for Fletch’s clue.
Then I see it, surrounded by swirling bands of ink, an unmistakable ‘X.’ I pick up the scalpel from the tray beside the body and make a small incision. With the help of tweezers from the same tray, I prod and poke around inside the wound I have just created until I find what I’m looking for.
The small metal plate comes out cleanly, thanks to the lack of bodily fluids in the corpse. I hold it up closer to the light, to get a better look. It’s some kind of electronic chip.
Just as I put it down onto a piece of paper towel, ready to carry it with me, my phone buzzes once in my pocket, startling me. That’ll be the instructions.
Tess, hang in there! I’ll be with you shortly.
Chapter Three
“X marks the spot,” the mysterious man in charge says. “You’ll receive further instructions momentarily.”
Although I only heard half the phone conversation, I understand that this will put Liam in a difficult position. He has to deliver something to this man in exchange for my safety. I’m sure whatever it is will be something Liam’s superiors would not want to get into the wrong hands, so in doing what my captor demands, he’ll be going against his orders.
Would he do that, for me? I want to believe that he would, but what if he doesn’t? Or what if he tries but fails to reach here?
“You’d better hope your boyfriend follows through,” the nasty masked man from the van snarls at me, strengthening the fears I already have anyway.
He pulls out an almost comically large knife, holding it up close to my face. Comical, if only it wasn’t potentially going to be used on me. I press my lips together tightly in a desperate attempt not to scream.
“Now, now, there’s no need for that. She’s our guest now,” the calm voice, who had just been on the phone with Liam, says. “And she won’t be any trouble. Will you, dear?”
I shake my head and breathe a sigh of relief when the mean guy puts the knife away again.
“Agent Everson should be here shortly,” the calm voice reassures me.
I strain my eyes against the bright lights pointed at me, trying to decipher something - anything - about my captor that may help later on, if I do indeed get out of here. The silhouette of the man moves ahead of one of the lights, enabling me to see his outline much better, even if his features are still obscured.
Average height, average build, neutral accent. Great, that doesn’t narrow things down at all. He’s wearing a hat, like an old fashioned gangster, so I can’t even tell how he keeps his hair or what color it is.
He reaches behind himself, pulling at something, which makes a horrible screeching sound as it drags over the concrete floor. A chair. He sits down facing me and folds his arms.
“Tess, darling, do tell me how you found out about the incident at Heathrow last week.”
Shit, he’s trying to interrogate me. So he thinks I know something, only, I don’t!
“I… Liam said he needed to get to the airport,” I stammer.
As much as I hate telling this man anything at all, especially about Liam, I’m just hoping that giving him titbits of information which he already knows anyway will buy me time. If Liam is indeed on the way with whatever it is this man wants, I may just be OK.
“Right. Specifics would be good.”
My throat feels tight, making it difficult to speak, but I do my best to explain anyway. “I swear, I don’t know anything else. Liam got into my car and said something was happening at the airport.”
“He just got into your car and told you to drive? You don’t expect me to believe that, do you?” The man sounds a little less reserved than before; there’s a hint of impatience or frustration in his voice.
“That’s what happened.” My heartbeat has sped to a frantic pace, making me feel faint again. I blink against the bright lights, but they continue to blind me, a
nd I still can’t see much of my interrogator. The darkness beyond the lights gives an oppressive, claustrophobic effect.
“So you’re trying to convince me that you and Agent Everson aren’t working together?” The man fidgets with something, perhaps his pocket, then lights up what looks like a cigar. The glow from the lighter and then the cigar tip is just enough to illuminate his nose and his lips. He’s white. Again, that doesn’t narrow things down much.
“No! I mean, yes! We don’t work together. I work in a call center in Brentford!”
“Right.” The man shifts his weight in his chair and crosses one leg over the other, then takes a deep drag from his cigar. “An excellent front.”
“Front? No, I actually work at a call center. I’m in the customer service division at Cellnet!” I exclaim. Damn, he thinks I’m lying to him. If I can’t convince him, who knows what he will do to me? Then again, if he hurts me, I won’t be much good as leverage to make Liam give him what he’s after, will I? Surely he can’t be planning to hurt me!
“So it was just a coincidence Agent Everson got into your vehicle that day?”
“Yes, that’s exactly right. I’d never even met him before that day.” Although that does sound quite thin, even I have to admit that.
“And when my man at the airport tried to foil your little plans, you just happened to evade him. Coincidentally, not because you, in fact, recognized his name and knew it wasn’t the real Detective Clyde…” The man shakes off his cigar, without ever turning his head away from me. Although I can’t see his eyes, I can feel his stare, and it’s making me more vulnerable.
“Uhmm…” I shudder at the memory of the fake detective at the airport. There was something creepy about him even before he showed his true colors and fought Liam. Thinking back, his voice sounded similar to the guy from the van. Maybe the rough accent or just his tone.
“And it wasn’t your plan from the beginning to lure him into the staff area, where Agent Everson could eliminate him.”
“He didn’t! He said the guy killed himself!”
The silhouette in front of me lets out a laugh and sits back. “He killed himself, you say? Why would he do that?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Well then… Perhaps you’ll change your mind once you’ve had time to think. My mother always used to say ‘nothing promotes clarity like a little rest.” Before I get the chance to respond, the man gets up from his chair and vanishes into the shadows.
The horrible guy from the van steps up beside me and stuffs that same smelly old bag over my head again. The musty scent makes my stomach turn.
“Nobody lies to Nexus. We always find out,” he whispers in my ear.
My throat goes even drier than before. If I don’t come up with something more useful to say the next time the main guy questions me, who knows what will happen to me? I can only hope Liam will turn up soon enough and resolve things.
Once again, I’m alone in the dark. It occurs to me that I can’t recall the duration of the drive to get here. Neither do I know where Liam was when he got the phone call. How long until he could reach me? How long have I even been here already?
In the background, I hear footsteps, voices. Except for the main man with the strangely calm voice and the one who kidnapped me, I had no idea there were others here. It makes sense, though.
With the bag still blocking my view, my other senses seem heightened. I listen on as they drag some large object over the concrete floor, then a bunch of them huff and strain, presumably to pick up whatever it is. It must be heavy.
The van doors that had held me captive earlier slide shut, and the engine starts. Way behind me, a motor jumps into action, possibly to power a loading bay shutter, and the van drives off until I can hardly hear it anymore. There is a moment of eerie silence before the same motor starts to whine again, presumably to close the shutter once more.
Dammit, Liam, how long are you going to take?
Chapter Four : Liam
The address they sent to me turns out to be a warehouse near Stanwell. As it is set away from the village itself, as well as the Heathrow boundary, I’m certain my presence will be detected as soon as I get near it. I park up at the side of the road a little away from the facility and find my binoculars for a better look.
The place gives the impression of being abandoned; there are no cars parked outside on the overgrown concrete parking lot. The shiny video surveillance system installed along the mesh perimeter fence suggests it’s not unused at all and extremely well secured inside.
There is no way I will be able to sneak in unnoticed. If I call for back-up or try anything funny, Tess will die. The message had said so, and I already knew Nexus tend to make good on their threats in these scenarios.
The only solution I see is to go in, as they instructed, and surrender myself, but first, I need to secure the package. My fingers wrap tightly around the small metal tube in my pocket containing the chip. I twist the cap open and empty it into the ashtray of my car. Hopefully, nobody will think to look for the chip there.
After putting the binoculars back into the glove box, I slip a small collapsible knife into my shoe just in case. I take a deep breath and open the car door. Although I’m going to play along with their plan, I’m not going to make things too easy for them.
I walk up towards the main entrance of the facility. As soon as I’m within range of the first cameras along the fence, I take the empty metal tube and hide it in the weeds growing along the pavement. Then I head directly for the gate, climbing over the top as instructed.
Nothing seems to stir inside the building. The blacked-out windows betray no movement, but I’m certain Fletch’s people are in there somewhere watching me. I head for the front door and reach out for the handle. It creaks open before I get the chance to touch it.
“Welcome, Agent Everson. Please come in,” the same voice I’d spoken to on the phone says. The slight echo suggests he’s using some kind of intercom system, but the voice is unmistakably the same.
“Where’s Tess?” I ask, while waiting for my eyes to adjust to the pitch black inside the warehouse.
Clever, how he’s trying to disorient me.
“Patience, Agent, you’ll be reunited shortly.”
I take a couple of steps toward the voice, and the door creaks again, clicking shut behind me. Now I can’t even benefit from the daylight coming in from the door anymore. I try to find my way by touch, taking another few steps ahead while reaching out for who knows what with both arms. It’s no use; there’s nothing there.
A moment later, two hands grab hold of my arms, force them behind me and tie them with what feels like a zip tie. The person pats me down, making sure I’ve come in unarmed as instructed, then steers me ahead, further into the dark. My instincts tell me to fight, but since Tess’s safety is at stake, I resist this urge.
“The package?” Fletch asks. The echo of this place makes it impossible to determine where Fletch is by sound alone.
“I have it,” I say.
“Well then, hand it over!”
“I have it, but not on me,” I clarify. “Let me see Tess, and I’ll tell you where it is.”
Fletch sighs. Footsteps echo in what must be a huge empty space. It did look like a warehouse from the outside, and the sound quality in here suggests I’ve entered right into the middle of it.
“All right then,” Fletch says, sounding a bit further away than before.
The invisible man - or men - holding me, shove me forward, prodding me in the back whenever I pause.
“Liam?” I hear Tess calling out for me. She sounds muffled, distant.
“Don’t worry; I’m going to get you out of this,” I try to reassure her. There’s no response. I don’t give myself the chance to worry, to let fear take hold of me. I’m completely focused on finding some way - any way - to ensure her safety.
With a loud click, a couple of spotlights are switched on, pointing directly in my face. Like a deer in he
adlights, I freeze instinctively, but the person restraining me relentlessly pushes me ahead, nearer to the lamps, until they make my eyes burn.
“There. Satisfied?” Fletch asks. I squint and strain my eyes to see what’s ahead of me.
“I can’t see. Where is Tess?” I say.
I shuffle ahead further, as the man behind directs me. Then I finally see her. A woman, tied to a chair with a black bag covering her head, surrounded by yet more spot lights. She’s only about twenty feet from me, and yet she seems completely out of reach.
The sight of her in such an undignified position fills me with anger, but I swallow it, knowing that losing my temper won’t help either of us right now.
“Tess? Is that you?” I call out.
The woman stirs, lifting her head in my direction, even though she probably can’t see anything through the dense fabric blocking her face. “Yes, Liam?”
I’m so glad to hear her voice. So relieved she’s here. That means there’s hope of getting her out of this yet. Otherwise, Fletch might have just hidden her somewhere else or killed her already.
“Now. If you don’t mind telling my associate here where you’ve kept the package.” As soon as Fletch finishes his demand, a man steps out in front of the light, clad all in black. Even his face is covered by a black ski mask, hiding his features completely. All that’s visible is the menacing look in his steel-grey eyes.
“Outside. I’ve hidden it,” I say.
The man pulls another chair out of the darkness and gestures at it. “Sit.”
Something about him seems familiar, his voice perhaps, but I cannot place it.
I obey, though, taking a seat, and the hands that had kept a firm hold on my arms until now loosen just a bit as the restraint around my wrists is cut.
They’ll want to secure me to the chair now too, obviously. Then they’ll want to get the package and verify it before possibly killing the two of us right here. I can’t let that happen.
I flex my muscles, preparing myself for a fight. The man in black steps around me, holding a couple of black plastic ties. The hands on my arms have relaxed enough for me to slip out from underneath their grasp. I turn around and punch the man who had been holding on to me right in the gut, making him double over.
Man of Mystery: A BBW Romantic Suspense Page 5