Someone grabbed her hair and yanked her head back.
The leader of the men was big. White. He had Albert Einstein hair, but it was a steely gray color. He wasn’t old enough to have gray hair like that. Maybe forty or so. There was a light of fanaticism in his drippy, hazel eyes when he stared at her. “Morning, bitch.”
“Quit calling me that. It makes me cranky. Less cooperative.” She didn’t know where the words had come from, but Shannon wasn’t about to back down now. Not until she got a good evaluation of the situation. “What do you want with me?”
She didn’t think it was a sexually based crime—thank God. Not with the way they’d positioned her. The computers in front of her weren’t cheap, nor were they antiquated technology.
She had a very clear skill set. And she suspected that was exactly what they wanted.
Shannon felt a calm settle around her shoulders. They weren’t going to kill her right away. If they had planned to, she would already be dead.
But that didn’t explain Ezra.
Unless they were going to use him to force her to do what they wanted.
There was a reason they had taken her. They’d been waiting for her. They’d worn masks, as well. Worked in a coordinated manner. Three of the four still wore those masks. She studied each one quickly. The leader was white, there were two that were black, and she couldn’t tell about the third. Possibly Middle Eastern.
So it most likely wasn’t racially or religiously motivated, either.
It was something else.
Probably something PAVAD related. A very high possibility.
It had happened before.
She strongly suspected Ezra Hahn was just incidental. Collateral.
They wanted her.
“You’re going to do some work for me,” the leader said. “If you cooperate, we’ll...let you live.”
Sure they would. She hadn’t missed the hesitation. They planned to get what they wanted from her, then kill her. No doubt Ezra had been kept alive to incentivize her to do exactly what they wanted. If they were both going to get out of this alive, Shannon was going to have to use her head. “Let’s get this going then. I have an appointment for a pedicure tomorrow at noon.”
The leader smirked. His hand cupped her cheek for a moment. Then he pulled back and slapped her. Her cheek burned when she turned to look at him. He’d enjoyed it. There was a light of satisfaction in his eyes. “You’ll speak with respect to me, bitch. If you want to live.”
“Ok. We’ve established the rules. What exactly can I do for you gentlemen, today?”
He nodded at two of the men next to them. They grabbed the edges of her chair and lifted. Shannon gasped. One of the men leaned closer and sniffed her. Leered.
The leader laughed. “You like what you see, Jim?”
“Oh, yeah,” he breathed. She fought recoiling from the heat of his breath against her face.
“It’s definitely...an impressive piece of equipment. What am I supposed to do with it?” She ignored Jim for a moment.
He raised his hand again. She flinched instinctively. He laughed. Coldly.
“Yes, I do think you understand.”
His goons carried her to the computer desk and dropped her in front of it. Shannon was certain the filling in her back tooth had rattled loose. “I need my hands to use a computer. Unless it’s voice activated or something. In which case, we’re going to be here for a really long time while it learns my speech patterns.”
“You’ll have time. You’re going to get us everything we want. You cooperate, and you earn privileges. You fight me, and that boyfriend of yours loses a finger. Or an eye,” the leader ran his fingers over her lips. “Then...I let Jim take you in the back room for an hour or so. When he’s finished with you, you’ll be a lot more cooperative.”
Shannon resisted the urge to bite him. There was something in his eyes that told her he’d probably enjoy punishing her for that. She got the game. She cooperated, he hurt her less. If she cooperated, it might buy her and Ezra a few more hours.
A few more hours increased the chances that PAVAD would find them.
Especially if they let her touch that computer.
“Like what kind of rewards?”
“Food. Clothing. Blankets.” He nodded at one of the men. A blanket was dropped into her lap.
Shannon looked down. Recognized it as the quilt her aunt had made almost forty years ago. It had previously resided on the back of her couch. Until two weeks ago when she’d taken it to the laundry room to wash it. She’d been convinced she’d left it in the hall closet and had been meaning to get it out again.
Nausea threatened. They’d been in her apartment.
This wasn’t just as random attack.
The computer just doubly confirmed that.
She was going to have to play this out. And pray.
It was time to do a lot of praying.
FOUR
EZRA COUGHED WHEN tepid water flooded his face. He opened his eyes to see two men leaning over him. He came up swinging.
It didn’t do a damned bit of good. He realized his hands were bound at just about the same moment one of the bastards rammed his foot into Ezra’s ribs. “Boyfriend’s awake!”
A woman screamed out.
Ezra’s gaze jerked toward her.
Toliver’s terrified eyes burned into his.
The last he remembered, they’d been in Smokey’s parking lot. He’d lured her outside because watching her with that local cop had gotten on his nerves. He’d just wanted to talk to her. Hash out why the last case he’d worked was burning under his skin, try to figure out why when he’d seen her that night, he’d almost forgotten the hell he’d witnessed the morning before. He had just wanted to focus on Shannon for a moment or two before he’d headed out. Just to forget. Maybe if he’d argued with her, he’d dream about her instead of a dead kid.
Then had come the fire. He’d been tazered before as part of his military training. He had no doubt that was what had happened.
She’d screamed then, too. He remembered the screams.
And a van ride.
“Hello, Agent Hahn, is it?” A cool voice asked from behind him.
Ezra reluctantly looked away from Shannon. A man in his forties stared at him, a maniacal smirk on his face. “Yeah, that’s me. What’s this about?”
“You’re here as a little demonstration. Your girlfriend seems to be struggling with following directions. Care to help her mend her ways?”
“You hurt her at all and I’ll gut you like a trout. Just keep that in mind.” Ezra knew the words were as impotent as he felt.
He’d get her out of this.
Or he’d die trying.
A knee hit him in the stomach. A fist struck his jaw. Ezra got it. He was going to get the shit beat out of him to force Shannon to do whatever these assholes wanted. The computer in the corner was hard to miss.
He didn’t like it, but he’d rather they targeted him than her.
Finally, the asshole leader called a stop to it. “We don’t want him dead. Yet. We need his body as an...example...to the rest of PAVAD just what we’re capable of. And Shannon understands, doesn’t she? If not, we’ll let Jim here explain. He likes Shannon a lot.”
Ezra spit blood from his mouth. He didn’t look at Shannon again. Not even once. If he did, he was afraid he’d say something to her. Make it worse for the both of them.
He forced himself into as submissive of a position as he could stomach.
Until the men left. One stopped next to Shannon.
Ezra watched as the bastard bent down and kissed her cheek, then whispered something.
She recoiled, but they’d bound her tightly. She couldn’t get away from the bastard.
When they were gone, she looked up at him.
They’d left the light on. Thankfully.
He stared at her for a moment, knowing he would never forget the fear in her eyes. Finally, he had to turn away, feeling useless and liked he’d f
ailed her.
Ezra took his first real look around. Primitive decor covered most of the cabin walls. And it was definitely a cabin, not much different than the one they’d shared down in Texas with Cam and Kyra before everything had gone sideways for them. Maybe fourteen by twenty, it was clean, old, and buttoned down tight. The windows had been boarded up from the inside.
The door was heavy metal. And he suspected they hadn’t left it unlocked for his and Shannon’s convenience. His bet was that the three armed goons were in the larger room, no doubt, outside of this little bedroom. If he could get loose and find the right tools, Ezra knew he could pick it and get them both out.
Lock-picking was a hobby he, Cam, and his team leader all shared. That hobby could get them out of there. If he could get free.
“Ez?”
He looked at her, feeling beyond helpless. They still had his hands bound. And he didn’t see any hope of getting out of that. “Hey, Toliver. This is not what I had in mind for our first date. How badly are you hurt?”
“I’ll survive. For a while. You?”
“I’ve had better evenings. What do they want?”
“Information, I think. Computer. They...that blanket is mine. From my home. They’ve been there. Probably a couple of weeks ago. They know about Mia and Kyra and Leina. Noah. They have a picture of Noah.”
Leina and Ken Chalmers’ baby. Shit. He knew how much Shannon loved that little boy and his two sisters.
She was frightened. He could hear it in her words, see it on her face. But she was hiding it as best she could.
He felt useless. “I see.”
“There are four of them. And one off-site. But I think there may be more. They keep referring to some company. Very, very organized.”
“Former military.” He’d recognized some of the moves the men had made when they’d been kicking his ass.
“Homegrown. We may be talking terrorism here. Or a revenge plot against the FBI—PAVAD, in general. Although they read more like a cult than a terrorist organization in a lot of ways.” She kept her voice down, calm, and he had to give her points for not falling apart. Instead, she’d profiled them exactly like the professional that she was. Hell, she was more experienced in profiling than he was.
“Most likely.” He didn’t give a flying rat’s ass why they’d been taken. Only about how they were going to get out of this.
They could figure out the why next.
Ezra pulled himself to his feet, though his brand-new bruises protested. He settled near her feet. Ezra leaned slightly, until his shoulder rested against her knee. They both needed the connection now.
If nothing else, he didn’t want her sitting over there all alone.
Like it or not, they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.
They both knew that.
Ezra needed to think.
FIVE
THEY KEPT THEM there for two more nights, playing cat and mouse over the computer with Shannon. The as they referred to them when they were alone—returned every four hours to give them bathroom breaks.
Ezra got nothing but a bottle of water.
Shannon got two and a sandwich. That one goon kept touching her. It was only his boss keeping the bastard in line. Ezra couldn’t help worrying about what would happen when they were done taking what they wanted from Shannon. They’d questioned her repeatedly until she was exhausted—about the infrastructure of PAVAD, especially the computer forensics department. They’d freed her left hand for her to write down what she was telling them.
Information. That’s what they wanted.
That was their true goal. Access to the PAVAD databases.
He and Shannon discussed it in great length when they were alone.
They never said too much, fearing recording devices, but he could read between the lines. Access to that information would bring them access to...everything.
Names, personal addresses, dependents, and next of kin. Cases, evidence, experience. Someone hacking PAVAD could do some serious, long-term damage.
On the third day, they came again. All four.
With purpose in the way they moved.
They jerked Ezra up and held him still—directly in front of Shannon. He didn’t miss the knife.
Or the way big doe eyes widened in fear. For him. “It’s ok, Toliver. I’m made of hot air. He pokes me, it’ll be a slow leak. That’s all.”
“Here’s what’s going to happen. Agent Toliver, you’re going to log in to PAVAD for us. Give us complete access on that hard drive right there. Once that’s accomplished, Tommy here is going to clone everything. I’m not sure how it works, but I know you do. And Tommy does. After that...”
He laughed, a cold, evil thrill that had every instinct Ezra possessed flaring.
Something was about to happen, and it was going to happen now.
SIX
CHAS’S LIFE’S AMBITION when he’d been a teen had been to design video games for the computer. He’d had the skills to do just that, but he hadn’t had the grades to win scholarships—thanks to several illnesses keeping him from attending high school regularly. He also hadn’t had the money to pay for the education he’d needed to make a success of it.
Until he’d joined the Army. They’d paid for his education—he’d paid them back with ninety percent of his soul.
He’d gotten shafted from the deal. He had no doubt about that.
But the Army had given him the exact skills he needed for this new work. And this position he’d had the last five years paid far better than coding video games ever would. He was his own boss now, free to pick and choose the cases he took on.
He never took on one he couldn’t do.
And he’d never been caught.
The client this time wanted him to give the FBI a run for its money. It was his riskiest job so far, but Chas enjoyed the challenge. And if he did the job well, he’d already been promised additional work in the future.
He wasn’t sure what the guy’s beef with the bureau was, but he didn’t care. It was all about the money for him. The FBI was no different than the last three hundred targets he’d had.
St. Louis was where the client wanted it done. No surprise, with the big PAVAD directorate located there. It was the second largest FBI organization in the country. So, St. Louis was where he was going to be. He even had four former army buddies floating around the city somewhere. Not that he intended to look them up.
Chas was invisible to them now. And had been for the long years since he’d last seen them.
His target walked in front of his sight. Chas took his shot.
Then turned to the crowd around the fifty-something former politician who’d angered his newest client. With four more shots he covered his intended target easily. Those four victims might survive. They might not.
He didn’t care. But they obfuscated the intended target. This was just a test for the new client. The FBI agent would be the real job. Later. That was what mattered.
Every war had collateral, after all.
Chas had learned that the hard way.
Someone always had to die to make a point.
SEVEN
THEY’D FOUND THE van deep in the Ouachita Mountains, abandoned, seventy-one hours after the abduction. They were hoping to find a hint of where to look next. But Max didn’t see that happening.
He was a realist, after all.
Max knew they were losing ground, and fast. They needed a Hail Mary. “Bring in local Search and Rescue?”
Ken Chalmers shook his head. Max didn’t think the other man had slept even once since the call had gone out about Shannon and Ezra. “Already tried. Have to wait for the locals to send over a unit. We’re just too thin. We need our own Search and Rescue unit.”
The rain was threatening as they spoke. It had held off for the last three days, and Max knew they were running out of time. Any forensics they had outdoors was under constant threat. “We need faster than that.”
“I know.” Max thought f
or a long moment. “I know someone who could do it. She’s FBI, but on medical leave in the area. Not PAVAD.” He looked over at Jac, knowing his partner was going to balk at the idea. Jac had made no bones about wanting her little sister Nat as far away from the FBI—PAVAD, especially—since the bombing. Nat had been damned lucky to survive. And Jac hadn’t wanted her sister in the FBI in the first place. “I’m not sure if she’s been cleared for duty. But she works dogs, and she has two with her now.”
He'd driven Jac up to check on Nat just two days before this had happened. Nat had been walking the dogs out in the woods. She’d appeared like a little ghost and nearly given him a heart attack.
“How fast can you get her here? Who is she?” Ken asked.
“It’s Jac’s sister, Natalie. She’s been staying up here for the last two months. She’s less than twenty minutes away.”
“Go. I’ll square it with Ed and Hellbrook. Just hurry.”
Max didn’t even bother looking at Jac. With her, it was probably better to ask forgiveness than permission. Hell, she’d get over it.
She always had before.
Al nodded. “Go. Get her here fast.”
Max ran. Then he drove like a bat out of hell toward the cabin fifteen miles away.
THE LIGHTS in the cabin burned in welcome when he got there. Jac had told him exactly how worried she had been over the woman a few years younger than she. Nat had been injured on the job when her K9 partner had sniffed out explosives shorting before the unstable compound had been detonated.
They still hadn’t caught the ones responsible for the bombing in front of a municipal building.
Nat was lucky to survive. The dog hadn’t. Neither had another agent from the ATF who’d been working near her.
Nat had suffered partial hearing loss in one ear, but Jac was more worried about the emotional trauma from losing her friend that day.
Nat, a slightly smaller, brown-haired version of Jac, looked up when he entered with the key he had to Jac’s cabin. She’d let him fish there numerous times. He took a very quick moment to study Nat. He didn’t want to overwhelm her, and the poor kid had been through some serious hell. The doubt hit him hard when gray eyes met his. “Max, what’s wrong? Where’s Jac?”
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