She ran her finger over the dog-tag he had given her. It had all been a complete surprise, one that made her feel as if she had finally found the one person in the world who could love her.
She wanted to believe it would last through this horror, but knew only time would tell. If the worst happened, and Mason wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship with her, it had still been the best time of her life. Meeting him at the lowest point in her life, and all the memories they had made together, would sustain her for a lifetime. She would always be grateful she had met him.
She loved him and felt his love for her—even if it was short-lived.
Pulling open the bathroom door, she stepped into the hallway, and ran straight into a man’s chest. Hands gripped her upper arms. Hard. Painful. She looked into the face of the man she had seen at the bar.
And then it hit her—she remembered how she knew him.
Daniel Forrester’s buddy. He had been one of the men at Forrester’s table, the night she had killed him.
“Ms. Baylor, fancy meeting you here.” He had a slightly discernible Russian accent. “You’re supposed to be at the hockey game.”
Oh, fuck. He knew about the plan. He was part of the RRA sent to kidnap her. Dread slid down her spine. She struggled to get out of his grip. “Let me go.”
“I don’t think so.” He yanked her against his body, and covered her mouth with his hand. “If you’re here, that must mean there is a reason I have not heard from my comrades. We suspected a trap, but felt sure we would get past it. Apparently, I was too optimistic about my colleagues’ skills. But how fortuitous that I have found you. The one person I wanted most.”
He shoved her toward the emergency exit, pressed on the metal bar, and disengaged the lock. The door swung open. A deafening alarm sounded.
The man shoved her out the door. Jess caught herself before she sprawled on the asphalt parking lot. Her gaze darted around the area. Was it too much to ask that Mason be walking into the bar and see her abduction in progress?
No one was around. No one would know where she had gone. Hell, Mason and the team might even suspect that she figured the danger was gone and taken off while they weren’t watching her.
Jess had to leave them a message. She grasped the necklace around her neck, yanked on the chain until it broke, and dropped it on the ground. And she hoped to hell Mason would know that there was almost nothing that would make her take off her most cherished possession.
Unless she absolutely had to…
Opening the back passenger door of a black SUV, the man tossed Jess onto the seat, slammed the door, and locked it as he made his way around the vehicle to the driver’s side door. Jess pulled on the door handle, but the child safety locks must have been engaged, and she was trapped.
A metal separator, like one used to keep dogs from jumping into the front of the vehicle, prevented Jess from trying to grab the man around the neck from behind. She was a caged animal. He started the vehicle and pulled away, his tires squealing with the sudden burst of acceleration. Jess was thrown back against the seat, and hit her head on the door. Stars filled her vision.
She closed her eyes and prayed.
Please let Mason find my necklace.
It was the only hope she had of him saving her.
Chapter 18
Mason searched the bar until he located Sean. Quickly, he maneuvered through the tables. He needed to see Jess. Make sure she was safe. He’d give just about anything to hold her in his arms and kiss her. Nothing would loosen this knot in the center of his chest.
The seat across from Sean was empty.
“Where the hell is Jess?”
“Head,” Sean said, chomping on a mouthful of nachos. “She drank about seven gallons of water while sitting here.”
An alarm filled the bar. Mason swung around. A couple of waiters were headed down a hallway. He bolted after them. His heart beat painfully in his chest. He knew it was Jess. And he knew something had gone very wrong.
“Fuck!”
Mason was halfway across the bar before Lance caught up with him. Something brushed past his legs. He glanced down, and saw Apollo sprint through the bar patrons. By the time they reached the open door, Apollo had the two waiters cornered. Mason blew past them and burst outside.
A black SUV squealed out of the parking lot.
Massachusetts plate. Mason memorized the plate number. Just about to take off running for the rental vehicle, something on the ground caught his eye. His gut twisted in pain and guilt.
The dog tag he’d given Jess.
“He’s got her,” Mason growled.
“How can you be sure?” Riley asked, stopping next to him.
He let the dog tag dangle from his hand. “I gave it to her last night.”
A tight grim line crossed her mouth. “Dammit. Did you get any identifiers on the vehicle?” she asked.
Mason rattled off the make, model, and license plate number.
Riley grasped his arm and squeezed. “We’ll find her, Tink.”
* * *
Riley passed the information Mason had provided to Flaherty.
“According to Mason, they took the on-ramp for north I-93. Check for local airports.”
“Logan is South,” Flaherty said.
“They won’t use a large airport. All the major airports in the area have her picture. They won’t risk getting held up at security. They’ll want a smaller airport to get her out of the country via private aircraft.”
“Okay, looking for regional airports nearby.”
The silver Explorer they had rented pulled up beside her. She got into the front passenger seat. In the back were Mason and Sean. Apollo was in the cargo area. Lance hit the accelerator, and flew onto the interstate, trying to make up lost time.
“Laurence Municipal Airport. North of you, located just off I-93,” said Flaherty.
“Send the coordinates to Lance’s cell,” Riley said. “See if you can find out if there are any flight plans submitted for this afternoon.”
Lance’s phone was cradled in a holder on the dashboard with the GPS open. It dinged with an incoming message from Flaherty. Airport coordinates. Riley’s phone rang and she pressed the answer button, and placed the call on speakerphone.
“Based on the information you gave me, the vehicle is a rental under the name of Alexei Khil.” Flaherty said. “I’m trying to hack into the vehicles GPS, but I’m hitting some firewalls. My hacking skills aren’t as sharp as they once were.”
“Keep trying,” Mason said. “We need to get to Jess before they get her out of the country.”
“I’ll keep you updated with any new information.” Flaherty ended the call.
The vehicle was silent for the next twenty minutes. When they pulled into the airfield, the Khil’s black SUV was in a parking spot next to the concourse entrance. Mason was out of the vehicle and through the entrance before Lance came to a complete stop. Riley was on Mason’s heels.
“The man driving that black SUV,” Mason asked the man behind the counter. “Did he come in with a woman?”
The man narrowed his eyes at Mason. “Yes.”
“Where are they now? Are they still here?” Mason’s voiced boomed through the small area.
The man’s nostril’s flared and his hands rested on his hips. “No they just departed.”
“To where?” His voice echoed through the concourse.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t give you that information.” The man turned his attention to his computer screen, effectively dismissing Mason.
Mason reached across the counter, grabbed the man’s tie, and yanked him forward. “Want to reconsider your position on that?”
Oh shit…the last thing they needed was for Mason to be arrested on an attempted murder charge when he beat the man to a pulp.
Riley stepped up next to Mason, and pulled out her CIA credentials. She elbowed Mason in the side and gave him an I got this—don’t kill the man—we need him glare. When
Mason released the man and took a half step back, she turned her attention toward the man. Wide eyes, a deathly white complexion, and the real possibility he had released his bladder. Riley almost felt sorry for him. She handed him a picture of Jess. “Is this the woman accompanying the man driving that SUV?”
“Y-yes,” he stuttered, “that’s her. The man said she wasn’t feeling well, which is why he had to help her onto the aircraft.” His gaze darted to Mason and quickly back to Riley. “She was having a hard time walking straight—like maybe she’d had too much to drink.”
Mason slammed her fist on the counter. The man jumped.
“Was there a flight plan filed?” Riley asked, edging Mason out of the way. Where the fuck was Lance? She needed him to get Mason out of here before he went postal and started dismembering the man.
“Yes, let me pull it up for you.” Of course, Mason putting the fear of God in the man seemed to have a positive effect in one way—the man was suddenly very excessively helpful.
Riley stepped closer to the counter and tried to peer at the computer screen. “Are they flying internationally?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m sure of that much.”
“What type of aircraft are they flying?”
“A Sikorsky S-92 helicopter.” The man grabbed papers off the printer and handed them to Riley. “The flight plan has them landing in North Aroostook Reginal Airport, Maine.”
“Maine?” Mason asked. “Why there?”
“It’s probably not far from the Canadian border,” Riley muttered as she scanned the documents.
“But they could’ve just flown direct.” Mason said.
Riley was on the phone to Flaherty within the next heartbeat. “They’re en-route to a small airport in northern Maine,” she said. “North Aroostook. What’s there?”
“I’ll get back to you,” he said, and dropped the call before she could respond.
Lance walked in and approached Riley.
“It’s thirty miles to Hanscom from here.”
“We don’t have time to waste trying to get back there,” Mason said.
Riley turned back to the man behind the counter. “What aircraft to do you have to charter, and is there a pilot available immediately?”
Chapter 19
The hollow sound of van doors opening sounded far off to Jess. The fog in her head slowly cleared, but the confusion still hung like a heavy raincloud. Cold metal froze her cheek. Her hands were fastened behind her back. She tried to shake free of her bonds, but the bindings her cut into her wrists with every movement.
Where the hell am I? What’s going on?
A hand grasped her by the elbow and yanked her upright. She stumbled out of the van as she tried to get her feet under her. Darkness greeted her, which did nothing to aid in figuring out where she was. Her head pounded. Sharp pain knifed through her eyes sockets and ricocheted around her brain. She blinked a few times. She was being forced toward a building of some type. Light spilled out a large window in the front. A wood porch panned the front of what looked like a cabin.
Snow crunched under her feet. Too deep for it to be Providence or Newport…at least the last time she’d been outside in either place.
How long have I been unconscious? Hours? Days? Longer?
She guessed it was possible there had been a snowstorm while she was out of it, but the crunchy layer of ice on the top of the foot of snow indicated some time had passed.
Or I’m not in Boston anymore.
The front door of the cabin opened, and her captor shoved her through. She sprawled onto the highly polished wood floor of the foyer. Her chin struck the floor and sent another burst of pain through her face, neck, and head. She attempted to roll over, but only made it to her side with her hands behind her back.
A booted foot came toward her, but she had no way to block it. The kick landed in her stomach. Reflexively, her knees came up to block the next kick. When the boot landed in the center of her shin, her captor said something in Russian, but she knew by the tone he was not happy about being unable to kick her somewhere softer. More vulnerable.
Someplace that might cause as much damage internally as it did pain.
A knee dropped next to her, and for a split second she thought he might show mercy and help her to her feet. Instead his fist slammed into her cheek so hard, she was sure he had knocked out all the teeth on that side of her mouth. Metallic liquid flooded her mouth, and she gagged on her blood.
She squinted out of one eye. The man’s fist was posed just above her head. She tucked her chin to her chest and brought her knees in tight. Perhaps becoming a small and tight ball might protect her head.
Another body moved beside her.
“Stop,” the new voice said. “She belongs to Yurik. If you beat her to death before he gets here, he’ll take great pleasure in torturing the both of us before he kills us in her place.”
Her captor said something unintelligible again but stepped away from her.
Two hands grasped her around her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. A significant amount of blood pooled on the floor where she had just been. With one man on either side of her, they dragged her down a hallway, forced her down a set of wood stairs, and tossed her onto a cold, cement floor. She forced herself to remain still, hoping if she appeared unconscious, the challenge of beating her as close to death as possible wouldn’t be as appealing.
Jess held her breath. One of the men cut the tie that bound her hands. The rush of blood stung her hands, and nearly made her cry out. Boots stomped up the wood stairs, the door shut, and a lock engaged. Jess let the air she held in her lungs out with a long, agonizing groan. Rolling onto her back, she fought to make sense of what had happened.
She was in Newport with Mason—no, they had left Newport. Boston. The hockey game. She had been at the bar across the street with…what was his name? The guy…with the dog?
Sean. He had told her Mason and his team captured the terrorists. She was safe.
She went to the restroom.
The guy she had seen at the bar. She recognized him.
One of Forrester’s friends from Providence. He stuck her with a syringe, and that was the last thing she remembered.
She peered around the space, but there was only a little light that came from a single dim bulb overhead. Something shuffled nearby. Jess stilled. Was it a rat? Something bigger?
Listening intently to the quiet, she heard a faint whimpering.
“Is someone there?” Jess said just above a whisper.
“Jess?”
A familiar voice, but one that made Jess’s heart shred with guilt. “Mom?” Tears sprung to her eyes. She crawled toward the voice. Hurt sliced through her body. A jackhammer pounded inside her head, perfectly synced to her racing heartbeat.
Huddled into a dark corner was Jess’s mom. By the time Jess made it over to her, any stored energy she had was gone, and she collapsed on the floor next to the woman.
“Jess,” her mother cried, and bent over her daughter’s body. “Oh my God, what is going on?”
“I did something stupid, Mom,” Jess said, her voice faltered. “And I’m so sorry you’ve been dragged into it.”
“What?” her mother said, a familiar edge to her voice. “What did you do, Jessica?”
Jess and her mother had never been particularly close. In fact, for most of Jess’s life, she wondered if the woman hated her. Jess was sure that if her father hadn’t been around to be a buffer between the women, Jess would’ve been put up for adoption. Or left on the side of the rode like an old mattress.
After years of feeling as if she were a burden to her mother while being the apple of her father’s eye, Jess had gotten used to her mother’s attitude towards her. It had taken less than a month after her father’s death for Jess to leave home and never return. As it was, the two women only spoke a few times a year, and it was not usually a pleasant experience for either of them.
And now, here we are.
“I
shot a man,” Jess said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible. She didn’t want her mother to think Jess regretted the action. She did, of course, in some way. Her friends were dead because of her actions, and now her mother’s death would also be at her hands. The only part that wouldn’t allow her to feel total regret was the part where she had met Mason.
God, Mason…did he find the necklace outside the bar? Would he be able to find her in time?
Probably not. And that meant that the time they had together, even as brief as it was, had been the most special of her life.
She had found love.
No—her only regret was not telling Mason that she loved him. She hoped, on some level, he knew. And would not blame himself for her death.
“What do you mean, you shot a man?”
Her mother’s voice snapped Jess back to reality.
“He had a gun, and I thought he was going to rape, or murder me. I happened to get the gun away, and when he came after me, I shot him.”
Her mother stared at her for a moment, her face blank. Her emotions unreadable. It was an improvement over the usual. Jess had always been able to detect reservation with a note of loathing in her mother’s reactions to her.
“So—how does that explain what is going on now?”
“The man was the son of a Russian terrorist—and he’s after me. You were used as bait to get me out in the open.”
“Why would you let them use me that way?”
The question took Jess by surprise. She stared at her mother, confusion made her head reel. “I’m sorry?”
“If you knew they were using me to get to you, you had to know they were going to kill me even if they did get you. Why would you walk into their trap?”
“Well, that wasn’t the plan,” she snapped. “We used a decoy, but something went wrong, and—well—here I am.”
“Who’s we?”
“A team of military special operators who are trying to catch these guys, and protect me. And you. They must not’ve known about the guy in the bar that grabbed me.”
Special Forces: Operation Alpha: Mason (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The 13) Page 10