Midnight Escape

by Rebecca Deel

  Brenna’s lips curved at the appropriate monikers her sister had given the two thugs. “You didn’t have me with you.” Or Eli and Jon. She hoped the tags were doing their job. Resolve stiffened her spine. Even if they didn’t, she and Dana would figure out how to get away from Grace and her cronies. “Don’t you dare give up. Don’t let them win, sis.”

  “What are we going to do?” A shifting of weight on the mattress and Dana’s voice sounded nearer. “I can’t run, Brenna. I’ll try if we get the chance, but I’m too weak to go far. Ape man and Skyscraper fed me once a day and didn’t give me much water. I’ll hold you back and both of us will be captured again. You should escape yourself and come back for me with help.”

  “No.” Brenna rolled over. She didn’t dare tell Dana about the tracking tags, especially since she had no idea if they worked. She could, however, give her sister some hope. “Can you move closer?”

  More shifting and her sister’s breath fanned over Brenna’s face. “That’s as far as I can go.”

  Brenna dropped the pitch of her voice, worried Grace and company had the place bugged. The idea of someone listening to anything going on in this bedroom made her stomach queasy. “You can’t give up, Dana. Eli and Jon will find us.”

  “Jon? You met him?”

  She smiled, a bubble of happiness forming for her sister. Oh, yeah, her sweet sister had it bad and, if Brenna was right, so did Jon. “I met them when I started looking for you.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Crazy with worry about you.”

  “Really?” Wonder laced through her word. “Are you sure?”

  “Trust me, sis. I know it when I see it. He and Eli knocked heads and kicked in doors searching for you.”

  “I’ve missed him so much,” Dana whispered.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about him? I’m surprised you didn’t spill the secret about your SEAL.”

  She remained silent so long Brenna nudged her thigh, reminding Dana that like all good sisters, she wasn’t going to accept silence for an answer.

  “I was afraid to say it out loud,” Dana admitted. “Jon never indicated he felt anything for me beyond friendship and I don’t know how to read men well. I never dated anyone after that nightmare with Ross.”

  “Yeah.” Brenna swallowed the knot forming in her throat. “I understand.” She nudged her sister’s leg again, wanting to divert Dana’s attention from Ross the Rat. “Still, you could have told me how drop dead gorgeous that SEAL is.” Would Dana take the bait? She got her answer a moment later.

  “You think Jon is good looking?” A hint of dismay came through in Dana’s voice.

  “Oh, he’s okay I guess.”

  “He’s better than okay.”

  Brenna laughed. “Eli Wolfe trumps your SEAL any day, sis.”

  Dana drew in a ragged breath. “Eli? Oh, Brenna. He’s such a great guy. All tough on the outside, but a marshmallow on the inside. Is the interest mutual?”

  “I’m pretty sure it goes both ways. You’re right, he’s an amazing man and so is your Jon. Now, tell me how you got mixed up with the Scarlett Group.”

  Eli pocketed lock picks and motioned for Jon to go into the outer office low and to the left while he covered the right side. Both men held semi-automatics in their right hands, Ka-Bars with black handles and blades strapped to their legs. A rumble of men’s voices drifted from deep in Sartelli’s office. Light spilled from the doorway and illuminated Dana’s desk.

  They edged closer to the interior office, their movements practiced and silent. Uneasiness grew in Eli. This kind of op was the most dangerous. No time to prepare or gather information, including the layout of Sartelli’s office.

  He and Jon paused to the side of the door. Eli shifted as close to the doorway as possible without stepping into the light. He held himself away from the wall to prevent a rustle of clothing from giving away their presence. He listened to the voices. Sartelli and his thug, Mendoza, for sure, but were there any others present who remained silent? The clock ticking in his head reminded Eli he didn’t have time to waste since Sartelli would be uncooperative. He didn’t even give serious consideration to questioning Mendoza. He’d met men like him in the field. Even faced with his own mortality, Mendoza wouldn’t give information unless Sartelli told him to talk.

  “Get me the Mt. Juliet shopping center file, Juan. It should be on Dana’s desk. The city council is threatening to renege on the tax incentives.”

  Eli glanced at Jon, his eyebrow raised. Did Jon want to take on Mendoza? Jon nodded. Eli grinned and positioned himself to guard Jon’s back in case someone else exited the office and alerted Sartelli to his unexpected company. He trusted his partner to take down Mendoza, but they had a minute at most before Sartelli or someone else wondered what kept him. They had to do this fast. Jon unsheathed his Ka-Bar.

  Mendoza’s hulking figure stepped into the outer office. Jon waited until the man lumbered to Dana’s desk and bent over to search for the needed file. In seconds, Jon’s hand was over Mendoza’s mouth, knife blade against his jugular. The thug froze. In an almost toneless whisper, Jon said, “One sound, you die.” He glanced at Eli.

  Eli raised his weapon, prayed he hadn’t missed a third person, and entered the office. Sartelli sat, desk facing the door, head down as he wrote on a yellow legal pad. “Did you find it, Juan?” he asked without raising his head.

  He aimed the pistol at Sartelli’s massive chest. “Your yard ape is a little busy right now.”

  Sartelli looked up, scowled. “Wolfe. I trust you have not hurt my former employee.”

  “Harsh, Marcos. One tiny mistake and he’s canned.” Eli picked up the sound of a short-lived scuffle in the outer office and muffled ranting from Mendoza. “Hard to find good help these days.”

  “What do you want, Wolfe?”

  “Information and I want it fast.”

  Sartelli gave a short bark of laughter. “And what makes you think I will supply you with this information? You’re nothing but a two-bit private investigator. You have no badge. I don’t have to answer any questions.”

  “Two reasons. First, I won’t miss your heart at this range and, trust me, I don’t need much incentive to pull the trigger right now. Second, if you don’t talk fast, you’ll find yourself in jail along with your Scarlett Group cronies. Doubt you’d look good in prison orange, Marcos.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What is Scarlett Group?”

  Eli stared hard at the old man, took in his puzzled expression. And his heart sank. He didn’t want to believe the old geezer was telling the truth. If he was, chances were excellent that Sartelli wasn’t responsible Brenna’s and Dana’s kidnapping. He reserved judgment about Joe’s death, however.

  He sensed Jon enter the office. “You believe him?” he asked without taking his gaze from Sartelli.

  “Unfortunately, I do. He can still help with the information.”

  Sartelli’s eyes narrowed. “Why should I help you? Aside from the guns, of course.”

  “Simple. Your crazy temporary secretary orchestrated Dana’s and Brenna’s kidnapping, drugged me, and tried to kill Brenna on at least a couple occasions.”

  “I’m sorry about Dana, but I care nothing about the rest of your problems.”

  “Oh, you better care, Sartelli. Grace is working with the Scarlett Group, a human trafficking ring, and she’s using your company to hide her activities.”

  “You lie.”

  “No, Marcos, I’m not.”

  Sartelli appeared to consider Eli’s words, his mouth pressed into a thin line. “You have proof?”

  Eli motioned for the construction owner to pick up the phone at his right hand. “Call your mother-in-law. Ask her what’s happening in her backyard.”

  Sartelli scowled.

  “Yeah, I know how much the old lady ticks you off, Marcos. After that, call your wife.”

  “My wife is dressing for our daughter’s engagement party, Wolfe. Why should I distu
rb her?”

  Confident his partner had his P226 drawn and aimed, Eli shoved his weapon into his holster and crossed the office in two strides. Fists crushing coat lapels, he yanked Sartelli to his feet and slammed the old man’s back against the wall. Sartelli’s mouth gaped with shock. “I don’t care if your wife is inconvenienced, Marcos. Grace Porter drugged and kidnapped my girlfriend. You might not care about that, but she means a lot more to me than your wife or daughter. Are you catching my meaning here, Marcos?”

  “You wouldn’t dare harm my family.”

  “Try me.” Eli glowered at Sartelli. “The only thing I care about is rescuing Brenna and Dana.”

  “I will kill you for this, Wolfe.”

  “Get in line. There are many others ahead of you.” Most of them terrorists who made Sartelli look like a kindergartner pitching a temper tantrum. “Maybe you’d be more interested in helping if you knew Grace took off in your corporate jet.”

  “What?” Sartelli’s voice thundered in the enclosed space. A deep flush surged across his cheeks. “She cannot do that. She has no authority to use my jet.”

  “Your mother-in-law and the cops will confirm it. There are two plain-clothes cops outside your building. You can ask them.”

  “I didn’t know about any of Grace’s activities, I swear.”

  “I’ll put in a good word for you with Metro PD if you give me the information I want.” Eli waited. If he pushed too hard, Sartelli would tell him to take a hike. Jon, a whiz with his computer, could get the information they needed, but it would take time Brenna and Dana might not have.

  “And if I agree to cooperate, what will you do for me in return?”

  Eli stilled. No way could he give Sartelli carte blanche to ask for anything. No telling what the old buzzard would demand in repayment. He glanced at his partner. Jon’s mouth curled at the corners. Yeah, Eli agreed. How ironic, them owing Sartelli a favor. He dragged his gaze back to Sartelli. The old man’s gleaming eyes almost made Eli break his implied promise until Brenna’s beautiful face surfaced in his mind. “Protection for your family. Nothing illegal, Marcos. You call, my team responds within minutes.”

  Sartelli snorted. “Team? You and Smith? A team is more than two. I can hire two-bit security people like you with one phone call.”

  “We work for another group on the side with some of the best security people in the world.”

  “Still not enough, Wolfe.”

  “What do you want, Sartelli?” Jon asked.

  “Drop the investigation into Joe Baker’s death.”

  “Why?” Eli demanded. Drop Joe’s investigation? A sick feeling curled through his gut. He and Jon had promised Joe’s widow to find out who murdered her husband. If he agreed to drop the investigation, how could he face Louise? He and Jon owed it to their mentor to find his killer.

  “Let us say that it upsets my wife.” He smiled, teeth flashing in the bright light. “She does not like for my name to be linked to a murder, especially with Maria’s wedding only months away.”

  Eli hesitated. This might be his one chance to find Brenna before the Scarlett Group sold or killed her. But it felt like a betrayal to Joe. How could he drop the investigation and still live with his conscience?

  “Eli,” Jon said, a warning in his tone.

  They were running out of time. He hated the triumphant light in Sartelli’s eyes. With a mental apology to his friend and mentor, Eli said, “Done.” He would find a way to tell Louise somehow. “I want to know all the places you had runways built.”

  “Inside and outside of the United States,” Jon added.

  Sartelli nodded at his computer. “Release me and I will print a list for you.”

  Eli grinned. “Jon will do it, Marcos. You tell him where to look and what name the deed is filed under. We already know you don’t use your own name for many real estate deals.” Most were listed in the names of cousins, aunts, and uncles. He tugged Sartelli to a nearby chair, shoved him onto the leather cushion, and pointed his weapon once more at the man’s chest.

  “So much for your promises,” Sartelli spat out.

  “I’ll keep my word, but I don’t trust you. I prefer to leave this building without bullet holes. Makes rescuing my girl kind of difficult if I’m having a bullet removed.” Not that he planned to tell Marcos, but he’d completed missions with a bullet or two in his body. Didn’t like it. Bullet holes hurt. “Tell Jon what he needs to know.”

  Fifteen minutes later, he and Jon exited the building and climbed into Cal’s SUV. Eli peeled out of the parking lot, swung the vehicle onto the interstate, and turned on the lights and siren. “Learn anything interesting?”

  “Our new friend Marcos has airstrips all over the world,” Jon said as he woke up his laptop. “A lot of them are in unfriendly areas.”

  An invisible band tightened around Eli’s chest. Sartelli’s plane could fly to any one of those strips. He doubted Grace was stupid enough to fly Brenna and Dana somewhere in the U.S. Grace had to assume the cops would plaster her picture over the airwaves nation-wide. “Best guess on their ultimate destination?”

  “Probably Mexico. Fewer refueling stops. Less chance of the authorities stopping them. A lot of human trafficking in that area as well.”

  He frowned. “Most of the trafficking is from Mexico to the U.S, not the other way around.”

  “Makes Brenna and Dana a unique commodity on the market, doesn’t it? If Grace gets them out of the country fast enough, it will be harder to find them in a Mexican province. The Scarlett Group is a powerful, rich organization. Grace has to have bought the loyalty of the local police and military.”

  “Yeah, the right price buys anything. And with women and young teens sold like a commodity, Scarlett Group is making a ton of money.” Eli sighed. “Are we that cynical, Jon?”

  “Maybe, but we’re also realistic. Everybody has a price. Even us,” Jon said, voice quiet.

  He glanced at his friend. Gaze locked onto his screen, Jon’s jaw was clenched tight. “You sorry we made that deal with Sartelli?”

  “Wrong question, Eli.”

  His eyebrow swept upward. “And the right question is?”

  “Could we have done anything else?” Jon’s fingers flew over the keys, inputting data from the list he’d printed from Sartelli’s computer. “The answer is no. If we used other methods to learn the information we needed, Brenna would pay a heavy price. She might still.” His voice grew thick. “Dana has already paid in spades because I didn’t realize she was missing soon enough. Whatever horrors she experienced are on my head, Eli. She’s already been through so much. That she endures more abuse is my fault.”

  Eli squeezed Jon’s shoulder and returned his hand to the steering wheel. “I’m as much to blame as you are. I asked Dana to help us without keeping tabs on her. I didn’t think she was in danger, either.” He pressed the gas pedal to the floor. “Are the tags on Brenna still active?”

  More keys tapping on the keyboard. “No. Zane is still tracking the call sign.”

  Eli swallowed hard and prayed Zane didn’t lose them.

  Half an hour later, he and Jon raced across the tarmac at John C. Tune airport and ran up the steps of the Fortress plane, Go bags slung over their backs.

  Brent Maddox, a barrel-chested former SEAL with buzz-cut blond hair, turned and pinned them with a glare. “Almost left you boys behind. You’re the last ones to this dance. What took you so long?”

  “Had to chisel the information out of granite,” Jon replied. “Also handed one of your cards to a possible murderer.”

  “Nice to know you’re bringing us high-class clients, Smith.” Maddox folded his arms across his chest. “Where are we heading? The pilot likes to know these things ahead of time.”

  “Brenna’s tags ran out of juice,” Eli said. “Last reading was somewhere near the Texas border.”

  Maddox regarded them in silence. “Mexico?”

  “We think so.”

  “Figures. I wanted to stay
out of that hot zone for a while. Guess it’s a good thing we loaded enough firepower to take over a small country. We’ll need it. Fortress isn’t popular in some of those provinces.”

  “Does Zane still have a lock on the plane?” Jon asked.

  “He did five minutes ago.” Their boss waved them to their seats. “Belt in. We’re wheels up in two minutes. You can change clothes and give me more details after we’re airborne.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Brenna awoke with a start. She blinked at the sudden blinding light piercing the darkness of the plane’s bedroom. From the size of the backlit figure, she realized Skyscraper had entered the room. What time was it? Felt like she and Dana had been sleeping for hours.

  Beside her, Dana’s eyelids flew up. “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “Get up,” Skyscraper said. “If you try to run or fight, I’ll knock you out again with the drugs. You’ll still end up at the same destination but with a lot of painful bruises my friend will delight in giving you.”

  “Think I’ll skip that part of the program,” Brenna said.

  “Where are we?” Dana asked Skyscraper.

  “Your new home. At least until the boss’s boyfriend tires of you.” He laughed and strode across the room. Skyscraper unlocked Dana’s cuffs and yanked her off the bed. He slipped another pair of flex ties over her wrists, cinching them before pushing her through the doorway to Ape man.

  Brenna sat up and raised her hands. Anything to get those painful cuffs off her wrists. With a twist of the key, the metal bracelets fell away. She rubbed her skin, noticed bruises forming already. “Doesn’t Grace ran Scarlett Group? Is she really in charge or is her boyfriend?”

  Skyscraper gripped Brenna’s arm, cinched flex ties over her wrists, and hurried her through the doorway. Legs shaky from hours of disuse, she stumbled down the aisle behind her sister. Brenna paused at the top of the stairs and stared out into the night. The darkness hid landscape features, but the air felt different than Tennessee, sultry and tropical with the faint sound of waves breaking over sand. She drew in a deep breath of sea and brine. Her eyes widened. They were near the ocean? Florida or Texas, maybe?