by Alex Strong
“Would make sense. But I know what you’re thinking, and no, we have nothing concrete on Morozov to bring him in.”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t question him.”
Aaron shook his head. “The man is virtually untouchable. I think we’d be showing our hand by approaching him.”
Reid thought about it and knew Aaron was right. Especially since they weren’t working in any official capacity at the moment.
“You have an address for this Maren guy?” He asked.
“Of course.”
Reid grabbed a water, an energy bar, and the bottle of ibuprofen sitting next to the fridge. “Let’s head out then.”
“How you wanna play this?” Aaron asked as they sat in Reid’s Cayenne. They parked on the street around the corner from Peter’s apartment building in the Capitol Hill area of Seattle.
“I think I’ll go in myself,” said Reid. “If he tries to run, you can cut him off.” He put in an earpiece and called Aaron’s cell. “Keep the line open.
Aaron nodded and both men exited the vehicle. Reid made his way to the front while Aaron walked around the back, presumably keeping an eye out for other exits.
At the building entrance, Reid found a secured entry so he hung back a short distance until someone made their way to the door from the inside. He walked up and pretended to dig for a key. The couple leaving actually smiled at him as they held it open.
“Thanks,” Reid said, returning the smile.
He took the elevator to the third floor and as he made his way down the hall, he noticed peep holes on the doors and knew that Peter wasn’t going to be opening the door for Reid. He slowed down to listen for movement inside as he walked by and heard someone, hopefully Peter, on the other side of the door.
“Wells,” he said quietly into the earpiece, “I’m pulling the fire alarm to draw him out. Let me know when help arrives.”
“Copy that.”
Reid continued to the end of the hallway and pulled on the lever, careful not to leave any fingerprints.
Most people were either not home or not taking the alarm seriously, because few tenants were exiting into the hallway, but Maren finally poked his head out to check the threat. Reid was ready, shoving him back inside and quickly aiming his gun to Maren’s head as he kicked the door closed behind them.
Maren’s mouth fell open. “You—you! I left you at the airport!”
“I’m glad you think so. Now, against the wall with your hands up.” Maren did as he was told. “I’m going to ask you some questions, and if you want to make it out of this with all your body parts attached, then I suggest you answer them.”
“You wouldn’t shoot me here,” said Maren. “Someone might hear you.”
“First of all, I don’t need a gun to dismember you. And second, in case you didn’t notice, most of your neighbors are currently exiting the building. We have a few minutes until the fire department arrives. But I suggest you hurry, because when they do, you will no longer be of use to me. Now where is the girl?”
“What girl?”
Reid pressed the barrel harder against the back of Maren’s head and cocked it.
“Oh, you mean that girl,” he said. “I don’t know where she is. They put her on a boat, but I don’t know where they are going, I swear.”
“What boat?” Reid asked, “Where would it dock? You have to give me more, Maren.”
“It’s the boss’s boat, the Clara.”
“And where does it usually dock?”
“I’m not sure.”
Reid whacked the butt of his gun against the side of Maren’s kneecap.
“Ow! I told you the truth. I don’t know!”
“Then what do you know about it?”
“It’s not in the lake. It’s in the sound. Elliot Bay, I think.”
Reid rolled his eyes. “Would it be the Elliot Bay Marina by any chance?”
Maren’s eyes squinted shut, anticipating another blow. “I think so, I swear I don’t know.”
“Where’s your phone?” Reid asked and Maren pointed to small table nearby. Reid pocketed it and then shot Maren in the knee. He’d live, but it would keep him busy long enough for Reid to get Jillian back. There was a fire escape out Maren’s bedroom window. Reid’s feet hit the ground right as engines were pulling up. He crossed the street and took the long way back to his car where Aaron was waiting.
“So now we just need to find this boat, the Clara?” he asked.
“We find the boat,” said Reid. “We find Jillian.”
The boat had left the dock over an hour ago and Jillian was seated on the couch, unsure what to do with herself. Now that they were out in the middle of the Puget Sound, she presumed Casimir wasn’t worried about her escaping and seemed at ease as he conducted business in another language on his cell phone.
But that all changed with the arrival of a steward.
“Sir,” he said holding out a phone, “Morozov is on the line for you.”
"Shcho," Jillian heard Casimir answer.
He continued talking in the foreign tongue and Jillian tuned it out, but when he hung up, she couldn’t help noticing that he looked pleased.
Without a word, Casimir grabbed Jillian by the arm and marched her across the room and down a flight of stairs, calling someone who followed them. Casimir opened a door and threw her in so hard that she fell onto the floor.
“Steshyty za neyu!” he ordered as he slammed the door shut and locked it.
Jillian stood up and pressed an ear to the door. Someone (she guessed Casimir) walked away while the other person remained on the other side of the door. She turned to survey the room, not much bigger than a broom closet. A small boring bed was in one corner and an even smaller bathroom in another.
It was hard to know exactly what was going on, but seeing as how Casimir suddenly felt the need to place her under lock and key, Jillian wondered if Reid was behind it. Was he keeping good on his promise to rescue her? Would he succeed?
Reid pushed a small Zodiac into the water from a boat ramp on the west side of San Juan Island and fired up the outboard motor. Using the GPS on his phone, he steered the boat in the direction where the Clara was sitting, just nosing the Washington-Canada border.
When Reid could plainly make out the boat’s lights bobbing along the horizon, he cut the motor and took up the oars in an effort to draw as little attention as possible to himself. It was still a good twenty minutes of hard rowing before Reid reached the side of the Clara. He made for the darkest part of the boat and got as close to the railing as possible. Reid contemplated his next move. He was going to have to jump to grab the railing, and he was only going to have one chance at it, or he was in the water. One deep breath, and then Reid vaulted as high as he could. Both hands made contact with the metal bar, but one slipped just as he was tightening his grip. Now he hung off the yacht by a single arm that was already exhausted from the rowing. Another deep breath and Reid swung the free arm around, this time keeping hold. But he still needed to pull himself up over the railing. He was just about to do it when he heard footsteps coming in his direction. His only hope now was that they didn’t see his fingers wrapped around the lowest railing. But then someone called out and the footsteps faded in the opposite direction. Reid summoned the last of his strength and climbed over the railing.
Now to figure where on the damn boat they were keeping Jillian. His best guess was that she was somewhere below. Quickly and quietly he made his way to the nearest door and found stairs leading to a lower deck with a narrow hall. Reid couldn’t see what was at the other end of the hall, so he pulled out a small telescopic mirror and could see doors lining the hall, one of which was manned by someone with a gun. If they were guarding that room, that must be where Jillian was.
Reid screwed the silencer onto his pistol, wishing there was some other way. It was one thing shooting at someone firing you, but he had always hated this part of the job.
Jillian was inspecting the bathroom for anything t
hat might help her out of this room when she heard a thump outside the door. She stepped out and could see the handle jiggling. She yanked the only lamp from the wall and positioned herself behind the door with it raised over her head. This might be her only chance—to do what she wasn’t entirely sure, but she couldn’t sit around waiting any longer.
There was a click and the handle was definitely turning now. Jillian sucked in a breath, preparing for whoever was coming through that door.
“Reid?” she said, certain her mind was playing tricks on her.
His familiar face beamed at her and Jillian’s hopes soared. He’d done it. He’d actually rescued her.
“How are you here?” she asked, lowering the lamp. “How is this possible? How do you know these people?” So many questions were going through her head; she didn’t know where to start.
But Reid ignored her and wrapped his arms around her. “Thank God you’re okay. Did they hurt you?” He pushed her out to arm’s length, and Jillian saw his eyes settle on the cut lip. He frowned, but didn’t comment on it.
“We have to get off this ship before anyone finds us,” he said, pulling a gun from a holster, and for the first time she noticed the one already in his hand. “You know how to fire this, right?” he asked.
“Yes, but—”
“Good,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m going to need you to stay close to me and shoot at anyone who isn’t me.” He peeked his head out the door and looked both ways. “With a little luck, we won’t see anyone else.”
Jillian looked at the floor by Reid’s feet and saw the same man Casimir had posted guard at her door, now in a heap with a line of blood coming from the small hole in his forehead. His vacant eyes stared up at her. She shuddered.
“But how—” she started to ask, turning away from the gruesome sight.
“I promise I will answer all your questions later, but first we need to go now!” He pulled her out of the room with him and she tried to keep up as they headed down the hall, Reid’s gun poised for a possible attack. Jillian looked down at the weapon in her hand and wondered if she would be able to use it. After all those hours in the gun range with her father, she never imagined she’d actually have to shoot a live target.
Movement caught her eye and she looked down the hall behind them just in time to see someone coming around the corner.
Shoot at anyone who isn’t me.
“Reid!” she screamed, firing off a shot. Jillian missed by a mile, but it was enough to send him ducking for cover.
Reid spun her around, putting her in the lead, and pushed her forward as he fired back at whoever was still around that corner. Their attacker was sending bullets their way, but since he was too chicken to actually stick his head out, they weren’t in any real danger. Yet.
“Everyone’s going to know we’re here now,” said Reid. “Take the stairs, get out on the deck, and jump. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Jump in the water? That’s your plan?”
“Just go!” he yelled without looking at her. Casimir’s man had realized he needed a new tactic and stepped out into the hall. Jillian ran the last few feet up the steps, leaving Reid to provide cover. She bolted up the stairs and slammed right into a hard chest. She was immediately shoved against the wall. She could feel a hand trying to wrestle away the gun that was now lodged between their two bodies. Her other arm was being pinned by a death grip against her hip. Jillian held as tight to the gun as she could, but knew she didn’t stand a chance against this much muscle. In one last-ditch effort she squeezed her fingers even tighter and jumped when the gun went off.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Reid raced up the stairs just in time to see Jillian struggling with another assailant and a split second later heard a gun go off. Both Jillian and her attacker froze, and Reid thought the worst.
“Oh, God, oh, God, please, no!”
But then the man slumped to the ground, almost taking Jillian with him. She managed to stay upright, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I killed him,” she whispered, looking at Reid. “I didn’t mean to. I just—”
“It’s okay,” said Reid, grabbing her. “We have to go.” He didn’t have time to talk her down from this. There would be time enough for that if they could manage to get off this boat alive.
He poked his head out the door and could hear commotion all around, but it didn’t sound close. Everyone was still trying to figure out what was going on, and this was their one small window to get off before anyone saw them.
Reid motioned Jillian to follow him out to the railing.
“So what do we do once we’re in the water?” she whispered as they climbed over it.
“Stay close to the hull and wait for my direction. Ready?”
She nodded and they both jumped in.
Reid’s head bobbed back to the surface to see Jillian already swimming towards the hull as instructed and he quickly joined her.
“Now what?” she asked, shivering.
He knew they couldn’t spend too much time in the cold boundary waters.
“We find my raft,” he said, pulling the phone from his vest pocket. Housed in a waterproof case, it told him that his raft carrying a tracking beacon had drifted thirty feet behind the boat. Further than he had hoped, but doable if they started moving now. “Swim this way, as quietly as you can,” he told her.
Their hands had barely left the side of the yacht when he heard the motors kick on.
“Hurry,” he said as a spotlight started searching the water. Reid could tell Jillian was fighting as hard as she could to stay with him, but she didn’t have the same layers he did and the fear of hypothermia crept into his mind.
“We’re almost there,” he said, putting an arm around her waist, helping her to go faster. Her body relaxed and she stopped swimming, choosing to let him drag her.
“Jillian, honey, you’ve got to keep swimming. You need to keep your blood pumping.”
She gave no sign that she had heard other than her legs kicking harder.
Panic was just starting to sweep through him when he slammed into the side of the black rubber craft. Reid tried lifting her into it first, but she didn’t have the strength to get in and he couldn’t get enough leverage to push her. Reluctantly he climbed in first and from there was able to pull her out of the water. Jillian collapsed on the bottom of the boat.
Reid pulled an emergency blanket out of a kit in the raft and looked towards the yacht, now moving in the opposite direction, still searching the waters with the bright light. He wrapped the blanket around Jillian who was conscious, but not saying anything. Her weak, ragged breathing was the only sign that she was still alive. The blanket would prevent her from losing any more body heat, but he knew she needed a heat source ASAP. He started the engine and steered the raft towards shore, making sure to keep plenty of distance from the boat.
When he was sure they had enough ground, or water in this case, between them, Reid called Aaron.
“She’s safe,” he said as soon as Aaron answered. “Leak the intel and assemble a team.
“Got it,” Aaron said and hung up.
Now that Jillian was out of harm’s way, Reid felt comfortable alerting the authorities of Casimir’s whereabouts without risking her becoming collateral damage.
“Talk to me, Jillian,” he said.
“About what?” she asked through chattering teeth.
“Anything. I just need you to stay awake.”
“I’m too cold to fall asleep right now,” she said.
“That’s a good sign. We’ll get you warmed up as soon as we get to shore.”
“Why aren’t you balled up down here, feeling like an icicle?”
“I have a wetsuit jacket on,” he said. “Trust me, I’m still feeling the chill, but I haven’t lost as much body heat as you.”
“Can I ask questions now?”
“Yes,” he said.
“How do you know that man? Casimir.”
; Reid was trying to think how best to answer that when she asked another question.
“You don’t work in bank security, do you?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Is your name even Reid Jackson?” she asked.
Reid could hear the distrust in her voice.
“Yes, Jillian, my name really is Reid,” he said. “Hold on, we’re coming to shore.”
Jillian felt the thud before she had a chance to lift her head. Reid was out of the boat in an instant, pulling it onto dry land. She started to push up to see where they were, but then he was scooping her out of the boat, still wrapped in the aluminum blanket. Instead of taking in her surroundings, Jillian buried her head into his neck. It felt only slightly warmer than her own chilled flesh. In less than a minute Reid was laying her in the back seat of the SUV before opening the driver’s door and starting the vehicle. She could hear air blasting and prayed that it warmed up quickly; even her bones ached from the cold.
“We have to get you out of these wet clothes,” he said, climbing into the back seat with her. Jillian let Reid help her sit up and start removing her sopping wet clothes. She heard the sloshing noise as he tossed them into the back of the vehicle. When she was down to her bra and underwear, Reid pulled off some of his own layers, and she could feel his warm chest pressed against hers as he pulled the blanket over both of them.
“You never answered my first question,” she said. “How do you know Casimir? Why did he kidnap me?”
“Anton Casimir is an international criminal. Last week when I said I was in New York, I was actually in Mexico City saving another man and keeping sensitive information out of Casimir’s hands. He took you hoping that he could force me to get that information back in exchange for you.”
“But why me?” she asked. “Why did he think he could use me?”
“Somehow he knew,” Jillian felt Reid swallow hard before continuing, “he knew I cared enough about you that I wasn’t going to just walk away.”