Colby Brass

by Debra Webb

  Had they reached their destination?

  Von could sit here in fear…or she could do something.

  Do something had always been her preferred choice.

  If there actually were explosives rigged in this space, then she was dooming the children to sudden death. If she sat here and did nothing she was sentencing them to a fate perhaps far worse.

  One at a time, Von eased the sleeping children away from her lap. She couldn’t see anything. What she had been able to see when the dim lighting had been on was basically nothing. The lighting had been focused on the floor area, leaving the overhead area in total darkness.

  Feeling her way, she crept to the wall of furniture that separated their compartment from the door. She pushed at it. It didn’t budge.

  Tracing with her fingers, she found narrow gaps and ledges. This was actual furniture put together to conceal what was behind it. She tiptoed, reached as high as possible and found a little ledge. Then she climbed, putting the toe of her shoe into a lower gap and using her fingers to pull upward from the higher ledge.

  The stack of furniture didn’t go all the way to the top of the cargo area. There was maybe fourteen or so inches of space.

  She hauled herself up on top of the stack. Grabbed on with both arms when she almost rolled off the other side. If she made herself very straight, keeping her arms tight against her sides, she could lay there and maybe not be seen by anyone opening the cargo doors.

  Something heavy moved.

  A metal on metal grind pierced the air.

  Von stilled. She urged her breathing and her heart to be quiet.

  The side-by-side cargo doors swung outward.

  The girls started to whimper and cry out for her.

  Von’s chest ached.

  Did she go to the girls or be still?

  The beam of two flashlights shone into the truck.

  Von held her breath.

  “Get the woman,” one of the guys said. “Let’s have some fun.”

  More creaking and scraping accompanied the moving of the portion of the stacked furniture that served as a door. Thankfully the part she wasn’t lying on. These guys had gone to a lot of trouble to make it look like they were hauling a load of office furniture.

  One of the men moved into the space with the girls.

  Von could scarcely bear their cries.

  “She’s not here!” the guy stumbling around the girls shouted.

  “Are you blind?” the other guy demanded as he climbed into the truck. “She has to be in there!”

  Both were in the compartment with the girls.

  The girls wailed. The men swore and stumbled around.

  Von lowered herself down the front side of the wall of furniture and scrambled out of the truck.

  It was dark.

  Light tried to creep in through cracks in high walls.

  No time to figure it out.

  She ducked under the truck, hid behind the rear wheels on the driver’s side.

  The ground was dusty…not ground, she realized. Concrete.

  They were in some sort of huge building.

  It smelled old and burned…like charred wood.

  The sobbing and wailing in the truck ripped her heart to shreds. Von put her hands over her ears to try and block the sound. She bit down on her lip, hard, to distract her brain from the horrifying sounds.

  More ranting from the men.

  When they came out of the truck looking for her…it wouldn’t take them long to find her.

  She felt over her head. Metal…caked dirt. She crept toward the center of the vehicle. A long, round pole-like object ran down the center. Why hadn’t she studied auto mechanics in high school instead of stupid home economics?

  Holding her breath once more, she grabbed something that felt like metal and pulled her body lengthwise onto the long thing that extended along a good portion of the center of the vehicle.

  Boots hit the concrete.

  Von concentrated hard on holding on to whatever was overhead with her hands and maintaining balance on the pole.

  Flashlight beams roamed, bouncing on the floor.

  If she could just stay still…just be absolutely quiet…

  “Idiot, you left the side door open!” one of the men growled.

  What door? Von hadn’t seen any door.

  “I didn’t leave the door open,” the other argued. The statement was followed by a string of profanities from the accuser.

  “Look around outside. If she gets away we’re dead meat.”

  One of the men remained close. She heard his every step. He didn’t seem concerned with stealth.

  Light roved the floor beneath her.

  The air evaporated in her lungs.

  Don’t move. Don’t breathe.

  The yellow beam moved away.

  Von dared to breathe.

  More cursing echoed in the darkness.

  The truck shifted.

  He was climbing back into the cargo area.

  The children began to shriek and cry again.

  Von closed her eyes and fought the emotions tearing at her. She had to stay still…had to make them believe she had gotten away.

  Something slammed in the truck.

  Remaining still was one of the hardest things Von had ever done.

  Boots hit the ground again, then stormed away from the truck.

  “She’s not in here,” one of the men shouted.

  Von could hear them arguing outside.

  Did she dare move?

  Not yet.

  A minute more…see what happened next.

  Then she knew what to do…or what to try to do.

  She counted backward from one hundred…then she dropped her feet to the floor and rolled off the pole. Listening for the return of the men, she scrambled from beneath the truck and headed for the cab. The door opened with no resistance. Thankfully the dome light didn’t glow to life.

  Her fingers went immediately to the ignition…not on the steering column. Her heart rocketed into her throat. She felt around on the dash…found it.

  The key was in the ignition on the dash.

  Von climbed into the seat, eased the door shut and locked it. She scrambled across the seat and locked the passenger door as well.

  Once she started the engine there would be no turning back. She had to assume that, based on the way the truck was parked, they had pulled into the building. Which meant the doorway was behind her.

  As old and decrepit as this building smelled, surely the door wouldn’t be that difficult to break down.

  She checked the emergency brake. It was released. Stretching her legs, she checked the pedals. Brake pedal. Accelerator. Relief jangled through her. She didn’t want to deal with a clutch.

  “This is it,” she mumbled.

  As soon as they heard the engine they would run back inside, guns blazing.

  Von pumped the accelerator for good measure.

  She twisted the key in the ignition.

  The engine growled to life.

  With a yank she pulled the gearshift into Reverse, then slammed her right foot down on the accelerator.

  The truck jerked backward.

  Shouting.

  She couldn’t understand the words but she heard shouting.

  The truck hit something…bounced a little. She pressed harder on the accelerator. The tires spun.

  “Go, damn you!” she muttered.

  The windshield shattered.

  She jerked.

  Her fingers scrambled across the dash for the light switch. She pulled. The lights blared on, blinding the men with the guns.

  The doors hadn’t given way.

  To hell with it.

  She let off the gas and simultaneously jerked the gearshift into Drive.

  Von stomped the accelerator.

  The truck jolted forward.

  The men scattered.

  Wall.

  Damn.

  She hit the brake, slammed back into Reverse, ra
mmed the accelerator.

  The truck whined but roared backward.

  She hit what she hoped were the doors.

  Metal groaned. Wood splintered.

  The vehicle broke through the barrier and barreled backward into the open.

  Sunlight blinded her for a moment.

  Squinting, she tried to inventory her surroundings.

  She slammed on the brakes.

  Parking lot.

  She was in a parking lot outside a massive rundown building.

  Where were the two goons?

  Too quiet.

  Von shifted into Drive.

  Movement.

  Someone in the building.

  She hit the gas and bolted across the parking lot. The turn onto the street that ran parallel to the lot almost tipped the truck over. Von didn’t slow down. She had to get away.

  Save the children.

  What time was it? Where the hell was she? Could they really blow the truck up? They’d claimed to have explosives planted in the cargo area.

  She kept driving.

  More closed and dilapidated businesses flanked the narrow street.

  No people.

  No houses.

  In the distance she could see taller buildings, not quite skyscrapers but taller than these rundown businesses. How did she get there?

  She worked up the nerve to glance at her side mirrors. The street behind her was clear.

  Her immediate need was a phone.

  Call the police. Call the agency.

  Check on Trinity.

  Her heart knocked against her sternum.

  The kids were probably scared to death but she didn’t dare stop to explain what was happening.

  Not until she was either on official police property or surrounded by police cruisers.

  A big orange-and-white-striped guardrail crossed the street a block ahead.

  The street ended.

  “No way!”

  She checked her mirrors again. Still clear.

  She’d passed the last of the businesses a half a block back. Turning this big panel truck around on this narrow street without getting off the pavement wasn’t going to be easy but she had to try. She couldn’t risk getting stuck in the grass. No snow but damp-looking. Water was puddled here and there.

  Rolling her window down, she craned her neck to keep watch. She cut the steering wheel hard to the left, not an easy task. Eased back as far as she dared, then cut hard to the right and eased forward at the same time. Again and again she repeated this maneuver until the truck was facing the opposite direction.

  Her arms shook with the effort.

  Still no one ran toward her…no vehicle approached.

  Where the hell were those guys?

  Okay. Now all she had to do was drive past the old warehouse or whatever the huge building was.

  If she got up some speed and just kept going no matter what…she’d be okay.

  She glanced around the interior of the cab. What she would give for a cell phone just now. Then she surveyed the street.

  The men had to be somewhere.

  Von tightened her grip on the steering wheel and pressed down on the accelerator.

  By the time she reached the building she’d escaped the speedometer read forty-five miles per hour, which was damned fast on this narrow, potholed street.

  Relief melted her spine when no shots were fired and no one ran after her.

  No orange-and-white-stripped signs for as far as she could see.

  “Good to go.”

  She didn’t bother slowing down. If she got picked up on traffic radar that was all the better. The next best thing to having a cell phone right now would be having a cop blue light her.

  A black dot appeared in the side mirror.

  Von blinked, looked again to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.

  It was a vehicle.

  “No!”

  She pressed harder on the accelerator.

  How much farther to a populated street?

  The approaching vehicle suddenly charged past her.

  Her foot eased off the accelerator.

  What if that SUV wasn’t about her and the children? Could be someone from one of the closed businesses or from some street she didn’t know how to get to. It didn’t have to be trouble for her.

  Her pulse skittered with the burn of adrenaline.

  She knew better. This was trouble.

  At the end of the block the vehicle skidded to a sideways stop in the road, cutting off her path.

  Oh, yeah.

  Von hit the brake. The driver’s door of the SUV opened. She rammed into Reverse and charged backward, watching her side mirrors but doing a poor job of staying in one lane. The truck swerved.

  The SUV straightened and came after her.

  The idea that she would pass that building again had a lump of worry clogging her throat.

  There was no choice. She had to keep going.

  But the street ended.

  Panic swelled that lump in her throat.

  There was nowhere else to go.

  She slammed on the brake.

  The truck came to a screeching, jarring stop.

  She grimaced when she thought of the girls.

  Something hit her foot.

  Von looked down. A handgun lay at her feet.

  She stretched, reached the weapon.

  With her feet on the brake, she grasped the weapon in both hands and braced it on the steering wheel. She closed one eye and zeroed in with the other on the vehicle heading toward her.

  Just let them come after her.

  Whoever climbed out of that vehicle and started toward the truck…was dead.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Colby Agency, Chicago, 12:30 p.m. (23 hours missing)

  Simon and Ian entered Victoria’s office. Simon, in deep conversation on his cell, remained near the door.

  She and Jim had been waiting for word…any word on Trinity or Von…and the children.

  Since Lane’s revelation, Simon had contacted the local Bureau field office. Simon still had difficulty believing that White was on the take. The two had known each other for years.

  Ian was working the DA end of things. Lane had been turned over to Chicago PD’s custody just over an hour ago.

  “District Attorney Brian Ford just called,” Ian announced. “Lane lawyered up and isn’t talking. He refuses to relate any additional details regarding the drop-off or transfer location without the guarantee of immunity.”

  Victoria shook her head. “He, of all people, is very much aware of the shortness of time.”

  “He is. We know,” Ian explained, “based on our GPS system that Barrett is in Huntsville, Alabama. As of five minutes ago he was still moving so we don’t as of yet have a location of where the next pickup occurs.”

  “That’s where the good news ends,” Simon cut in as he stepped toward Victoria’s desk. “At ten-forty-five this morning Agent White’s body was discovered in the men’s room of a fueling station just off Interchange 565. He was shot point-blank.”

  “Dear God.” Victoria put a hand to her chest. “Nothing on Trinity or Robinson?”

  “Nothing,” Simon confirmed. “But it gets worse.”

  “What else?” Jim asked.

  Victoria’s son looked exhausted. He’d had little sleep. None of them had had more than cat naps. And the situation continued to escalate out of control.

  “Since White was with Barrett and Robinson,” Simon explained, “APBs have been issued for both.”

  “If they’re detained,” Ian went on, “there’s no way to know what will become of Von or the children. Not only is their safety still unknown and at risk, there is the issue of the second stream of cargo Lane spoke of. There is no way to get anyone in place to intercede if Barrett and Robinson are in custody.”

  “It’s all happening in the next few hours,” Victoria said, her mind racing to come up with some feasible solution.

  “There’s nothing la
w enforcement or the Bureau in Huntsville can do since we don’t have a location for the trafficking transaction.” Simon shook his head. “If we give them Barrett’s location then he’ll be taken into custody. And we can’t be sure of Robinson’s status at this point.”

  “Our hands are tied until we hear something from Barrett,” Jim suggested, uncharacteristic defeat in his tone.

  Victoria was having none of that. They were all exhausted, but the Colby Agency never gave up. “Simon, if you can persuade a contact at the Bureau to go with you to Huntsville—via the agency jet—the two of you will be there to work the situation and provide backup to Trinity and Von in real time.”

  Simon chuckled wearily. “I can try. But keep in mind that the last agent who accompanied one of our people on this investigation was murdered.”

  “I’ll go as well,” Ian offered. “Simon will need to work the politics of this delicate situation. I can handle the operational logistics.”

  Jim stood. “No, I’ll go. I should have seen through Lane hours before he made his declaration. It’s my shortcoming. I’ll make it right.”

  Victoria held her hands up surrender style. “You gentlemen make the decision. We want Trinity, Von and those children safety returned to us. Lily’s mother is conscious and well on her way to recovery, but she needs to hear good news. I have complete faith that the three of you will get the job done.”

  If it wasn’t too late already.

  Mildred, Victoria’s longtime personal assistant, appeared at her door. “Trinity called. He’s discovered the location where Von and the children are supposed to be. Robinson is still cooperating. That’s all he had time to tell me.”

  Victoria felt the first smile in several days. Hope bloomed despite everything. Trinity was alive.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Von snugged her finger around the trigger as the driver’s side door opened.

  She wasn’t going to let these bastards get their hands on these kids again.

  A man emerged from the SUV.

  Von blinked.

  Trinity.

  An audible ache burst from her throat.

  She rammed the gearshift into Park and scrambled out of the truck.

  They collided in the street between the vehicles.

  He hugged her so tightly she couldn’t breathe and she didn’t care.

  He was alive.

  When she drew back at last she pounded him on the shoulder. “What took you so damned long?”