“You’re crazy.” Miranda struggled to push Nash away. “I’m going to drag you in, Nash. I’m going to…”
“You won’t do squat,” Nash shot back. “You wouldn’t dare. You’re too fucking afraid that I’ll get in front of one of your bosses and start telling them every single thing that I know about you. You’d rather try to have me killed than risk that happening. I know it. You’re a fucking coward!”
He turned to his men. “Clear this place. Send everyone home. The party is over.”
Carson and Wrath immediately enlisted the help of Kayla, Francesca, and Tegan to do just that. From the corner of his eye, Nash could see his men (and women) explaining, coaxing, cajoling, and in some cases flat-out ordering the guests out of the room. It was done. It was over. And fuck it all, Nash had screwed up!
Still holding tight to Brookes, he dragged her toward the side door where Stedman and presumably Ava had disappeared only moments ago. There was only one SUV sitting on the golf course lawn.
“You fucking two-faced bitch,” Nash muttered to Miranda Brookes. “How could you sell your honor to a man who was already snitching for you? Don’t you know that a man like that will play both sides?” Nash shook her again.
Miranda’s hair flopped into her eyes, and she looked a whole hell of a lot more disheveled than she had during her moment of glory. She was also whimpering. The remaining two agents that had hung back from the group to remain with their CO were now cowering a few feet away. Neither one of them seemed to know what to do. Maybe that was because they were perfectly aware that their boss was dirty. Who knew?
“You.” Nash pointed to one of them. “Do you know where they took Ava Harte?”
The agent did not even attempt to try and hold the secret. “The s-same place they took Mr. Hyde-Pierson.”
“Where?” Nash snarled. He felt beastly enough to eat the agent and spit out his bones. This whole situation was untenable. “Where did they take them? The field office?”
“Oh no.” The man shook his head. His helmet wiggled in a ridiculous fashion. “They took them to the farm.”
“The farm?” Nash had a bad feeling he knew exactly what the guy was talking about. “The training facility down in Virginia?”
“Yes.”
Miranda curled her lip and tried to kick out at the agent. “You coward!”
Nash casually kicked Miranda’s feet out from underneath her. She crashed down into a kneeling position before him. He grabbed her hair and wrenched her head back to look up at him. “You removed them from this jurisdiction? You piece of shit. Why would you do such thing? It’s illegal as shit! What do you really think you’re going to get that’s worth all of that?”
“Privacy,” Brookes muttered. “I needed someplace where the locals weren’t breathing down my neck.”
“Because here in Boston, we’ve been keeping them informed,” Nash realized. He pushed his earpiece in order to signal Quentin. “Get the local cops here. They’re going to want a piece of this federal agent.”
“You can’t!” Miranda protested.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Nash said sarcastically. “I’m pretty sure they’ll call your superiors and have a little chitchat before they decide your fate.”
*
The SUV sped down the highway at breakneck pace. Ava stared out the black tinted windows and watched all of Boston disappear. It was horrifying to realize how far they were taking her. The familiar landscape of Boston disappeared. She saw the State House, the Harbor, and the unique shape of Logan Bridge all slide right out of sight.
“Where are we going?” Ava demanded. She kept trying to assert any kind of authority with the young agent who had arrested her. “This isn’t an arrest. You’re kidnapping me. That’s illegal. Don’t you realize that?”
“You’re a criminal. We’re the FBI. We can take you across jurisdictional lines.” The man glanced into the rearview mirror.
Ava tried a different approach. “I’m wearing an evening gown. These cuffs are making me super uncomfortable. Can’t you take them off? You’re driving ninety plus miles per hour. Where am I going to go?”
The agent glanced at his partner in the passenger seat but never issued the order to remove her handcuffs. Ava could feel the tension in the vehicle rising. It was uncomfortable, but she could not decide if this was to her benefit or not. The worst part was knowing that if she made the wrong decision, it could end in disaster.
“Please?” Ava laced an almost begging note into her voice. “I have to use the restroom, and this dress is horribly uncomfortable in this position. I won’t be fit for any kind of questioning if I have to sit this way much longer.” She thought of the privileged women in her social circle and tried to emulate their helplessness. “I can’t take this kind of torture. I’m going to faint or something. Then, I won’t be any good for days. I won’t even be coherent! Oh my God,” she moaned. “What if I have an anxiety attack? Will you call my therapist? I usually call her to have her talk me out of an anxiety attack. When I panic, I have horrible migraines. They make me throw up everywhere.”
Ava kept on going. She cataloged every complaint, every possible malady, and every poor result that could possibly happen from taking a poor, weak woman into custody and treating her in such a fashion.
“Oh my God!” She slumped in her seat dramatically. “I’m totally going to pass out. I feel like I’m about to panic. I’m going to panic. I need a hospital! What about my medication? Did you bring my medication?”
Ava slitted her eyes and viewed her captors through the barrier of her eyelashes. They were staring at each other. The passenger actually turned around to stare. The driver was making low noises of irritation beneath his breath. Either way, she was starting to get to them.
It was time to turn it up a notch. Ava began to moan. The low, sort of animalistic and severely annoying noise reminded Ava of some of the sounds her grandmother had once made when the woman was being overly dramatic and demanding special treatment. It had certainly worked on Ava’s father. He would have done anything to make Nana shut up. And now, Ava had a feeling it would be a short time before she got these clowns to stop the vehicle.
“Make her stop,” the passenger whispered to the driver. “Seriously. I am not listening to that all the way to Virginia.”
The driver snarled something. “Shut up.”
“Oh, it hurrrtttsss!” Ava whined. The next sound out of her mouth was something straight off the National Geographic channel. Perhaps a monkey mating call or a dying rhino. It was hard to say. Ava just made an attempt to be as horrifyingly annoying as possible.
“Stop!” The agent in the passenger seat turned around and smacked Ava’s leg.
“Ow!” she shrieked. “That hurts! You’re assaulting me! I’m totally having you arrested for that. Do you know who I am? You can’t do that to me!”
“Dammit, you can’t hit her.” The driver reached over and smacked the passenger on top of his helmet. The complete irony in the action was not lost on anyone in the vehicle.
“Ah!” Ava howled. “I’ve been taken prisoner by two complete beasts! You’re going to kill each other, and then the car will wreck and I will die!”
“Oh my God!” The passenger was getting very agitated. It did not take a psychologist to see that this was not going the way these men had expected.
Ava kept it up. She took her dramatic sounds up a notch and began to fake cry as well. She moaned something about her family, about how unfair this was, and even offered to pay the men off just to see what would happen.
“Pull over!” The passenger actually reached over and grabbed the wheel.
The driver yanked back. “Hey! You can’t do that. I’m driving here! Are you insane?”
“Pull over!” The passenger was yanking at the door. “Let the bitch out of the vehicle or I’m going to call headquarters and tell them what we’re really doing.”
Ava smelled the sweet scent of success. She could not even begin to imagine what w
as going to happen next, but she at least had a fighting chance if she could get her feet on the ground.
Chapter Twenty-One
Ava braced herself as best she could against the door of the SUV as the vehicle swerved onto an off-ramp. She prayed for a gas station. If they pulled into a gas station, there would be other travelers, or someone—anyone—that she could apply to for help. Maybe she could even slip away inside a gas station bathroom. Restrooms were notoriously busy, and her captors were both men. That would potentially leave her alone with other female travelers who might have cell phones.
God, Ava would have killed for a cell phone right about now.
But they weren’t heading into a gas station at all. It was a rest area. Ava could not help the inward cringe as they barreled into the parking lot. The driver chose a spot right in front of the low-slung restroom building. The SUV screeched to a halt and smacked into the curb so hard that Ava was flung forward into the passenger seat.
Her nose smashed into the leather. Warm blood gushed from the injury, and she felt herself tear up in spite of her mental decision not to cry—for real, at least.
“Oh my God!” The passenger turned around and stared in horror at Ava. “She’s bleeding everywhere. You’re going to fucking get us fired! That bitch Miranda Brookes is going to pay for this. I’m calling the unit chief. I can’t take this shit anymore.”
“Don’t be stupid, Ryan.” The driver grabbed the keys and got out of the vehicle. Then he poked his head back in and pointed at the passenger. “What are you waiting for? Get her out, and take her into the bathroom to get cleaned up!”
Ava’s nose was pouring blood onto her dress as this was happening. She tried to put her head back, but without her hands to help stop the bleeding, she wasn’t going to get far.
“Come on.” The passenger—Ryan—opened Ava’s door and dragged her from the vehicle. She was in handcuffs, wearing an evening gown. It was dark. The place was pretty busy with travelers stopping to use the restrooms and stretch their legs. Ava’s bloody situation took center stage in no time.
“Ma’am?” A large man wearing plaid stared at Ava and her captor with undisguised suspicion. “Ma’am are you all right?”
“Step back!” Ryan said roughly. “This is a federal prisoner. I’m just taking her into the bathroom to clean up.”
The guy held up his hands, but Ava could tell he wasn’t convinced. In fact, she saw him pull out a cell phone and begin dialing immediately. Then he started taking video. Good. If she was lucky, he was one of those paranoid anti-establishment types who would immediately post the feed to the Internet.
Ava tripped in her heels as Ryan shoved her through the door of the ladies’ bathroom. “This place is closed!” Ryan shouted. “I’m a federal agent in here with a prisoner. Get out. Now!”
The whole room erupted in screams. The women shoved and pushed and tripped their way out of the bathroom until Ava finally found herself alone with her unwilling captor. She could feel the blood coagulating on her chin. It was disgusting, but it also had the dual effect of being a horrifying sight for poor Ryan, who could not even decide if he was committed to this endeavor or not. They guy was on the fence about the whole thing. Now was the time to push him.
“Ryan,” she said in her best beseeching tone of voice. “Please unfasten the handcuffs and let me take care of this mess. Please?” Ava begged.
He seemed to waver for just a moment. Poor Ryan was still dressed in his riot gear with the black cargo pants and jacket. His body armor was gone, but he still had a gun strapped to his thigh.
“I’m not going to run. Where would I go?” She gestured to her ruined dress. “Look at me! I wouldn’t get far like this anyway.”
“Fine.” Ryan roughly grabbed her hands and used a key on the handcuffs.
Ava wanted to weep with joy when they were off. She wasted little time rubbing her wrists. Instead, she went directly to the nearest sink and began to clean up her face. She pinched her nose and managed to stop the bleeding in quick order. The wavy mirror above the sink showed her a horrifying picture. Her hair was all over the place, her eye makeup was smeared beyond all possibility of repair, and, of course, the lower part of her face and the front of her gown were blood soaked.
She soaked a paper towel in water and wiped at her face. It felt good to get the sticky blood off her skin. Her face felt stiff, but as soon as she started to get cleaned up, her brain began trying to process her next move. There had to be a way out. Nash wasn’t going to just let her go without a fight. That wasn’t the way he was wired. She had to slow down her transport long enough to let Nash catch up. That was the key. She didn’t know what was really going on, but she had a feeling that Miranda Brookes had gone completely off script. That meant she was basically on her way to her death. And Ava had fought too hard and too long to let that just happen. It was time to fight.
“Why are you doing this?” Ava asked Ryan quietly. “You have to know that your boss isn’t on the level. That’s why you were talking about calling your unit chief. Do you really want your whole career to end just because Miranda Brookes has some secret plan and isn’t even sharing the benefits?”
Ryan looked both miffed and intrigued against his will. “What do you know?” he demanded. “What are you talking about? Not sharing the benefits?”
Ava hid a smile. She could do this. She just had to keep a clear head and stay one step ahead of her jailers.
*
Nash was already slamming on the gas before all four of the doors were closed in the SUV. Quentin cursed as his door slammed shut. He had to grab the handle to keep himself from rolling into Wrath’s lap as they spun around a corner and headed for the highway.
“Shit!” Carson shouted. “If we die on the road, there won’t be anyone to help Ava, Nash. Calm the fuck down, man!”
Nash didn’t comment. He couldn’t even spare the brainpower to think of a retort or a response or anything. His brain was stuck on one fact. Ava was alone with a bunch of dirty FBI agents who had nothing to lose and everything to gain. It was his worst nightmare come to life.
Wrath had other ideas. “Have we located Stedman? Did they take him to the locals, or is he on his way to the farm too?”
“Ask me if I care,” Nash snapped. “That bastard is out of my hands.”
“But if Sergei is behind this,” Wrath began in a tone filled with logic, “then he’s going to want both of them.”
“What does he want with Ava anyway?” Quentin said, puzzled. He was busy pulling out a laptop and trying to log onto the web. “It’s not like Ava has any banking information.”
“It’s the book.” Nash was kicking himself for not realizing this sooner. “Ava told Sergei that she had possession of this book that she had given Stedman as a wedding gift.”
“Book?” Carson sounded thoughtful. “Are we talking about the book that Kayla and Tegan found in the White Russian when they went on their unsanctioned infiltration mission.”
Wrath grunted. “Do not remind me of that incident.”
“Kayla is fine on her own,” Carson argued. “She kept Tegan out of trouble, didn’t she?”
“This is not the time,” Nash barked. “And yes. That’s the book I’m talking about. Apparently, it is the key to some cipher that Sergei can use to decode the banking information and access the money that Stedman stole from him.”
Quentin whistled. “Fuck. That is one hell of an incentive to kidnap someone.”
“Ava told Sergei the other night that she wouldn’t give him the stupid book until Stedman was behind bars. Apparently, that wasn’t soon enough to suit Sergei’s tastes,” Nash observed. He was kicking himself now, but there was no way of knowing if Sergei would have helped them if he had gotten what he wanted up front. It had been a gamble, and they had both won and lost, in a manner of speaking.
“I’ve found a report,” Quentin said suddenly. “There’s a Facebook video going viral from some man claiming that he saw a federal agent dr
agging around a woman in an evening gown and claiming she’s a federal prisoner. He’s ranting about injustice, but I think it’s Ava.”
Quentin flipped the tablet around, and Nash tried to glance at it while weaving through the nighttime Boston traffic. Not a great combination. “I think it looks like her.”
Quentin pushed the tablet to the backseat. “What do you guys think?”
“That’s her dress,” Wrath agreed.
Carson laughed. “You’re a wardrobe expert now, Wrath?”
“Fuck off, dude. I just remember the dress all right.” Wrath sounded petulant.
Nash wished he could be so calm and composed or—something. He felt like his insides were in a knot. There was so much terror and uncertainty swirling around him right about now that he could barely keep himself from going off the deep end. He wanted to take Miranda Brookes and beat her head into the concrete until it cracked open. Fortunately for her, she was in the custody of some very pissed off members of the Boston PD.
“Where was the video taken?” Nash demanded. He was coming up the on-ramp. “I need a fucking direction.”
“Go south,” Quentin snapped. “They’re heading to the farm, and this place is right down the highway. Maybe an hour?”
“An hour?” Nash hit the accelerator. The big engine in the SUV roared as they hit the ramp going about ninety. They bounced so hard that the undercarriage scraped across the pavement and showered the adjoining lanes with sparks. “That’s too long. Can you get me state patrol or anything? Send someone out there!”
Quentin got on the tablet again and started typing away. Analise was typically the one who did the computer stuff, but she had been more than out of commission lately. Nash missed his team. He had been assembling these guys—and Analise—for the last few months because he had enjoyed working with them overseas on deployments to the Middle East. They were trustworthy and hardcore when necessary. There would be no replacing this team.
“We’re going to get there faster than anyone else,” Quentin announced. “Just keep going. I can’t tell if the video shows them leaving. There’s a small chance that they’re still at the rest stop. Depending on how much Ava can stall, that could help us catch up, significantly.”
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