She couldn’t give up the protocols in the briefcase. That would cost more lives than just her family, and they were likely to kill her and them anyway just to tie up loose ends.
Her best bet, the one thing she hoped would happen, would be for her family to leave the house. Head for the lake and safety. Then, she could feasibly give them something, right?
“Ms. Collins, the briefcase.”
“I…I can’t.”
Ping nodded at Wei, who took a step toward the door.
“How do I know you’d let them go?” she blurted.
“I am a man of my word,” Ping replied.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m not willing to bet their lives on your honor.” She had to think of something. She glanced from Wei to Ping.
Think.
Where would Rand go? After keeping her safe, what were his priorities?
He’d want to get the protocols back, and that meant coming for her. But he’d also likely know the danger her family was in if they remained at home. Therefore, it wasn’t completely unreasonable to think that he might go there to root them out and on the road before gathering his friends to take back the briefcase.
Sarah couldn’t imagine a world where she mattered more than the company or Rand’s job. Whatever it was they had, whatever their feelings were, they had to come second, no matter how it hurt to know that.
“I’ll give you half the code now, then half when that thing is out of their house and my family is safe.” She licked her lips.
The first half could be correct. The second half didn’t have to be.
Ping stared at her. Could he see her deception in her eyes? Did he know she only meant to be half honest with him?
“Wei? See to it.”
The man’s footsteps clanked on the ground, growing softer, more distant until she could feel more than hear him.
“You’d better be telling me the truth, Ms. Collins.” Ping leaned forward, his gaze sharp, predatory. “You won’t like what happens if you lie to me.”
“I’m not lying.” She swallowed. “Got a pen?”
It wasn’t as if a code was all they needed, anyway.
Please be there, Rand. Please…
Chapter Eighteen
Rand hefted himself up the electric pole with nothing more than a thick climber’s sling.
The red light mocked him.
Someone was watching the Collins’ house, and Rand was willing to bet it was the same people who’d stolen Sarah from him.
Cold rage narrowed his field of vision to that last two feet of space.
The sky was light enough that he could see the camera plainly…and the transmitter perched atop the pole.
Bless the Collinses for turning into nosy neighbors. Sarah’s dad had remarked to Matt about so much work being done on the power lines yesterday. It was too coincidental. Sure enough, the cameras in the house and the transmitter posted on the electric pole were dead giveaways.
“You just about got it,” Andy called up to him.
Yeah, fuckface, I can see that.
Rand grunted and hauled himself up a little farther before dragging the sling up the post. Once it was high enough, he allowed his weight to settle in the sling, testing it a bit at a time until it held him firmly in place.
“Got it?” Andy paced back and forth. They’d identified the cameras on first pass. Neither of them could approach the house without being caught onscreen. Even the most distant lines to the house eventually wound up crossing paths with other cameras.
Rand wished they didn’t need to waste time this way, but they had no other leads. There was no way to track Sarah or the people who’d taken her. Right now, their best bet was to take the transmitter and figure out where it was sending to. Hopefully, that would lead them to Sarah.
He shrugged the bag on his back off one shoulder until he could get a hand into it.
Andy was the guy to go to when gadgets were needed, and he’d come through this time, too. If Rand could position the piggybacking transmitter to the one set up on the pole…they could track whoever was watching the Collins’ house and hopefully find Sarah. Alive.
Rand had to tell himself she was still out there. That he’d get the chance to tell her he loved her. That she was the reason he’d taken the job with the company in the first place, that he was fast losing sight of his priorities because of her.
If Sarah was gone… He couldn’t fathom a world without her in it. Without her poking and prodding him, without her smiles or laughter. He had to find her.
That they could still find her floating face down in the ocean, or not at all. Nope. Couldn’t go there.
“Be very, very careful. You have to get the connections just right.”
“Shut up, Andy.”
Did he want to wake up the whole neighborhood?
People would be up and moving any moment. His parents included, and that was not a conversation he wanted to have right now. How the hell was he going to explain being on the same continent, much less on the street outside their house? With any luck, they were still snug in bed like all the rest of the people, save Matt’s family.
Rand shook the cords free of the transmitter and grasped the end.
One wrong move, and he’d knock it off-line, then the Chinese would know they were on to them. This had to be done very carefully, and here he was hanging by a nylon loop. It all came down to being as careful as possible. No mistakes, no slipping, no nudges.
“Come on, man,” Andy said.
Rand pinched the alligator clip open and stared at the transmitter, the exposed wires. It was a hack job, but likely something they’d done as fast as possible. It wasn’t like they’d had any more time to set this up than Rand had to escape them.
He held his breath and eased the clamp around the wires on one side. There. One side done.
The other side was trickier. He needed to lean forward, which would throw off his balance in the sling.
Rand wrapped his arm around and over the pole, squeezing with his knees. The sling went slack, hanging uselessly down around his thighs. He’d have cursed if he had the breath.
He reached around, aware of the hum of the electrical wires. If he touched the wrong thing he’d be a fried turkey.
“Easy, easy, easy,” Andy chanted.
Rand’s muscles screamed. He managed to get a hold of the other clamp. His hands were sweaty, his fingers slipping a bit.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He worked his knees up a little farther to give him more room. His jeans slid across the worn wooden surface, and he slipped down nearly a whole foot before the sling grabbed the pole and he jerked to a stop.
The transmitter, their piggybacking device, and the camera clattered to the street below, smashing into a hundred tiny pieces.
“No,” Andy whisper-wailed.
Rand grasped the electrical pole, staring at the bits spread out on the asphalt. That’d been their only hope. The only way they knew how to track down Sarah.
Rand worked his way down the pole. Now what did they do? Noah was doing what he could. They couldn’t trust their handlers, even Hector. Someone had sold Sarah out from the beginning and he could no longer make allowances for people who might be on the take. Even Noah and Andy were a risk.
By the time Rand reached the ground, his arms and legs were jelly. He sat on the curb behind the car Andy had picked him up in and stared at the bits of the transmitter.
“I knew I should have gone up there.” Andy shook his head.
“Andy, shut the hell up.”
“I’m just saying—”
Rand stood and swung, clocking his friend in the jaw. It felt good to hit something, better that it was Andy’s flapping mouth.
Andy staggered back, one hand cradling his face, fire in his eyes.
Fuck. Rand shouldn’t have done that.
Andy’s gaze flicked over Rand’s shoulder. “Get down.” Andy crouched behind the fender of the car, peering toward the house at the corner of the stre
et diagonal from them.
Rand ducked and turned.
“Movement. Neighbor’s yard.”
“It could be Mr. Neilson, he’s an early riser.”
“Nope. Radio your friend.”
A slim figure dressed in dark colors slid from between the big, well-manicured hedges. Rand, Matt, and Sarah had played in, around, and under them as kids, much to the horror of Mr. Neilson.
He picked up the radio from where he’d left it on the sidewalk and pressed the button. “Matt, you’ve got incoming. North side of the house. Looks like he’s headed for the basement window. Move into position and hold.”
“Copy,” Matt replied.
The radio chirped softly and died. They’d go silent until otherwise noted.
“I’ll go around to the back. You watch the front.” Rand slid his holster back over his shoulders.
Now that the cameras were off-line, he wouldn’t have to worry about staying out of the frame. He waited a second longer than necessary before sprinting for the other side of the house, leaving Andy to watch the street for backup.
How many times had he made this same jog to go see Matt and catch a glimpse of Sarah?
Now, he’d have to hope he could save her life.
Rand skirted the house and let himself into the backyard. Ideally, Matt would hold position on the stairs until Rand flanked their guy and Andy followed the same path as the would-be murderer. It made sense the Chinese would use Sarah’s family against her, and this guy was their go-to.
He cut across the patio and peered around the corner. Andy was at the other end, watching for him. Rand signaled with his free hand.
In unison, they both crept forward.
Shit. Boxes were piled in front of the rear window. Rand moved up behind Andy, who signaled for him to go first.
Figured. That was probably for the punch.
Rand went to a knee. The basement was dark, quiet, but every so often he heard a bit of sound. The guy was a pro, that was for sure. He’d slipped in fast. Rand hoped to be half as quiet, but his size was going to work against him.
He went to a knee, gun aimed to where he saw a flash of light, and dropped his leg down to the work table below. The sturdy old thing didn’t budge or squeak under his weight, but he did grunt a little, fitting through the window casing.
Matt was a darker bit of shadow in the stair alcove, just out of sight.
Rand made it inside, Andy behind him. They moved forward, Matt sticking to the left wall, Andy the right, and Rand coming up between the wine rack and junk shelves.
The same slender man stood with his back toward them, a light aimed at the wall.
“Hands where I can see them,” Rand said, hoping the guy had a decent grasp of English because his Mandarin sucked.
The build was all wrong for Wei, so Rand had to assume this was someone else. Someone expendable.
The man’s hands came up slowly.
What the hell was he doing?
“Rand.” The tone of Matt’s voice, that high pitch at the end, couldn’t be good.
Andy lunged forward, grabbing the guy by the arm and shoving his gun up against his head.
“Shit. Matt, get everyone out.” Rand holstered his weapon.
“I’ve got him,” Andy said.
Matt’s footsteps pounded up the stairs.
The green blinking light on the detonator attached to the gas line wasn’t what Rand wanted to see. The device was already halfway off the line.
Fuck this.
Rand grabbed the explosive and yanked it off, tape ripping. He took three long strides and jerked the detonator free from the C4, throwing it through the open window. In the split second between activation and detonation, he folded his body around the C4 and ducked. The electrical blast was weaker than the backfire of a car.
Someone grunted behind him.
A wine bottle hit the ground and shattered, splashing them all with liquid. He stood and turned, just in time for Andy to stumble into him.
Rand pushed Andy aside and dropped the now dead C4 onto the floor. Without a detonator, it was little more than Play-Doh. He didn’t dare draw his weapon with the children upstairs, no matter that Matt might have gotten them out just fine.
The would-be bomber stood between the wine rack and the shelves, poised for a fight.
Matt grabbed the junk rack and yanked. The thing had always been a little rickety.
The top boxes spilled down, two hitting the man squarely in the head and shoulders.
Rand charged forward, tackled the man to the ground, and pinned him with his greater weight.
“Where’s Sarah?” He wrapped a hand around the man’s throat and squeezed.
“Easy, not all at once. You want him to suffer a little.” Glass scraped across the floor and Andy sighed. “That was a good bottle of wine, too.”
“Where the fuck is Sarah?” Rand asked again.
“He’s not going to tell you shit, man. Look at that face.” Andy crouched next to Rand. “That’s the face of a guy who don’t give a damn. Here. Get his wrists, then I’ll turn out his pockets.”
Rand used the zip ties to bind the man’s wrists and ankles, leaving him hogtied in the mess they’d made. He sat back on his heels while Andy searched his pockets, finding a phone, keys, and a few other odds and ends.
“Jackpot.” Andy wiggled the phone at Rand.
“You think you can find them using that?”
“I know I can.”
Footsteps thumped on the stairs.
“It’s me,” Matt announced. He rounded the corner, hands on his hips. “Emily, the kids, Mom, and Dad are on the road. What’s next?”
“You follow them,” Rand said.
“Oh, no, I’m not leaving.” Her in your hands…
Matt didn’t say it, and there was even a clear period at the end of the sentence, but Rand still heard the words.
“Just a thought,” Andy said. “We need all the warm bodies we can trust holding guns that won’t be pointed our way, so…” He shrugged.
Rand’s new phone vibrated. He’d dumped the last one first thing after the shock of Sarah’s abduction wore off. He could count on one hand the people who had the number.
He recognized Noah’s number on sight. Rand had called Noah for assistance before he could truly think through what was going on.
Noah could still be reporting back to Hector, and they had no idea if he could be trusted.
“Yeah?” Rand pressed the phone to his ear and stood.
“Tell me you’ve got something, man. I’m turning over a lot of rocks with nothing under them.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? Maybe what?”
“We’ve got a lead.”
“Awesome. What can I do?”
“Don’t tell anyone. Hang tight, and wait.”
“Copy that.”
Rand ended the call.
Andy glanced up, his gaze boring into him. “You’ve got to trust someone,” he said.
“Can we trust Noah?”
“I’d pick him over you.”
“Fuck you.” Rand flipped Andy the bird.
“What the hell are we doing?” Matt asked.
“You’re cooling your heels while I figure out where our silent ninja friend here’s been. Someone called the cops yet to come pick him up?” Andy thumbed at the still wordless captive.
“I’ll do it,” Matt said.
“His last address, a commercial port on the east side of D.C.,” Andy announced.
“What?” Rand’s stomach dropped. It’d be a two-plus-hour drive this time of day.
“I’m guessing this guy was waiting pretty close, weren’t you?” Andy patted the bound man’s cheeks.
The way the guy was staring at Andy left no doubt in Rand’s mind that if he were free, Andy would for sure have something to worry about.
“We’ve got to get on the road. Now. Come on. Leave him.” Rand crossed to the stairs.
“Hold up,” Andy said.
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“They’re going to know something happened. We’ve got to go.” What would the Chinese do when their cameras were no longer transmitting? When they didn’t get any sort of confirmation from the guy they sent in? Was Sarah dead?
“Noah has a speedboat, dumbass. He’s headed to the marina and will meet us—wherever that place is. Here. You’re local. Where are we going?” Andy thrust the phone at Matt.
“Twenty-minute drive, easy, but we need to go now before the school zones back up.”
“You call the police?”
“Already did.”
“You got more than that little toy gun?” Andy gestured to the Glock holstered at Matt’s hip.
“No, not with the kids around.”
“Well, good thing Noah travels with an arsenal. Only time his neo-Nazi gig has been good for anything.” Andy gestured toward the stairs. “Lead the way.”
Rand hated leaving the guy hogtied on the basement floor, but they had to. He didn’t want to kill someone if he didn’t have to, but letting him live was also a risk. They’d have to send the CIA after him once they had Sarah back. After another quick pat-down to remove anything else from the intruder, they exited the house out the front door.
“Are we doing the right thing?” Rand pitched his voice low, for only Andy’s ears. He was compromised. His priorities were fucked up. The only thing that mattered was Sarah. Not the case, not anyone else—just Sarah.
“What do you propose we do?” Andy shrugged and glanced up and down the street. Lights in houses were on now, people moving about.
“I don’t know, man. I’m just…I’m all screwed up, you know?”
“That’s because you have a case of the feelings. I had those removed a while ago. Did me good. You should look into it. Might be good for you. Caring? That’s nasty business.” Andy shook his head.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“You’re one to talk.” Andy grinned.
“Fuck you.” Rand glanced over his shoulder to Matt.
He hadn’t hesitated or paused once. Matt had just jumped in and started doing things. Rand had momentarily forgotten that Matt didn’t have a freaking hand. For the span of however long it’d taken them to get out, it’d been like old times. And now Matt was following Rand into a death match.
Spy Games (Tarnished Heroes) Page 24