Someone’s phone rang and I heard Jake answer. There were seconds of silence and then I heard him inhale sharply. “We’re at homestead Charlie, Mr. Thorne.” I wracked my brain for what that meant. I was about to walk out the kitchen when I heard quick movements and then…
“Drop it!” Jake yelled before I saw him go down. One of my bodyguards rushed me toward the elevator.
“What’s going on?” I shrieked.
He got dropped as well, dragging me down with him. I pushed his body off and sat up, confused. Andy approached me with a lazy stride, his right hand holding a weird looking gun.
“What did you do?”
“Your bodyguards are lucky I like them better than Val’s,” Andy said, stopping three feet in front of me.
My heart tried to reject what my mind was telling me, but all my interactions with Andy suddenly made sense. “You set me up.”
“Not really. You weren’t my job at first. I was simply insurance—my boss had bigger plans for me.” His eyes turned hard. “You screwed that up because you kept turning up like a bad penny.”
“I trusted you!”
“We’ll have a heart-to-heart later, sweetheart.” He raised his gun and shot me with no hesitation. The searing prick in my stomach instantaneously dimmed my vision and turned my muscles to Jell-O. I collapsed on the floor unable to move. His image blurred as he crouched in front of me and spoke in this slo-mo voice I couldn’t make out. He stood and dragged my body into the elevator. Afterward, there was nothing.
41
Grant
“Homestead Charlie.”
“Fuck!”
“That doesn’t sound good,” Viktor commented as Grant sprinted for the elevators, phone in his ear.
“Tyler, bring the car around.” He punched the button to call the car before turning to his companions. “Homestead Charlie is a threat code similar to Defcon 3. Donovan ended the call immediately and I think it’s because Andy was already there.”
“What do we do?” the senator asked no one in particular. All four of them got into the elevator.
“We’re heading to the penthouse,” Grant said. “Donovan will call once he has the situation handled.” That was the optimal result. As soon as they cleared the elevator, he brought up his phone app that contained the tracking software. “I’m getting a faulty read. Blaire’s blinking in and out of the penthouse.”
“The tracking device made specifically for the BloodTrak serum is more accurate,” Viktor said who was looking over Grant’s shoulder. He caught a troubled look on the blond man’s face, but it quickly disappeared and Viktor’s face was once again unreadable.
Tyler was already waiting for them in the Escalade and all four of them climbed in.
“Sully and I will ride with you for now,” Viktor informed him. “Our vehicles and my men are on the way.”
Grant didn’t respond but reached for the tracking device in the glove compartment and turned it on. “Signal is weak, but, from the coordinates, it looks like she’s in the basement.” They’d been in the car for a few minutes when Blaire’s signal blinked out. “Shit, this couldn’t be right? She disappeared.”
“How could that be?” the senator queried. “The BloodTrak serum is fool-proof.”
“Not anymore,” Sully countered.
Grant turned in his seat and glared at the two AGS men. “Explain. And don’t tell me it’s classified.”
“But it is,” Viktor replied. “Even the senator doesn’t know about it.”
“Well, I suggest you de-classify it pretty quick,” his dad snapped.
Viktor regarded the senator for a second before speaking. “Since the attack on your wife when the explosive device was identified, the CIA stepped up its probe against YGE and Yashkin’s other associates,” he said. “We’ve uncovered a company that fronts as an energy research laboratory that’s actually manufacturing counter-measures against U.S.-made advanced military weapons. Among those was the hack of the BloodTrak serum.”
“Yes, but how would Andy know that’s the tracker we used on Blaire?” Grant said. “We’ve kept the information confidential from Dad and his staff until now.”
“Would Blaire have mentioned it to Andy in passing?” Sully asked. “We couldn’t access both their cell phone records.”
Grant smiled grimly. “Blaire’s phone is secured, but no, I don’t know if she’s mentioned it to that son of a bitch.”
“It doesn’t matter. Spencer would be aware of this serum and could use a specialized tracking wand to confirm it’s active,” Viktor replied.
He was about to ask another question when Tyler cut in to ask if he should park on the street or the garage. Grant instructed him to go directly to the basement. Parking in their designated area, Blaire’s signal still had not resurfaced.
“We need to split up,” Viktor said. “Sully, go with Tyler. Mr. Thorne, hand Tyler the tracking device. Let’s go to your penthouse.”
Grant got into the elevator with his dad and Viktor. He swiped his keycard and punched the level for the penthouse. It was the slowest elevator ride in his life. The car stopped at the lobby and Grant wanted to smash his fist into the elevator panel. A person who was coming in from a morning run was about to hop on, but he blocked the man.
Grant glared at the runner. “Take the next one,” he snarled and repeatedly punched the arrow buttons to close the doors.
The senator stared at the floor and shook his head. Viktor cleared his throat. Grant stared ahead at the lit elevator numbers willing them to ascend faster. His mind raced with a thousand questions, but couldn’t find the words to voice a coherent one. When they reached the penthouse level, Grant re-swiped his access card to open the doors. He stepped out first, cursing when he saw one of the bodyguards sprawled at the foyer. He refused to be paralyzed by fear. Blaire needed him to be stronger than ever. He bent over and felt for a pulse while Viktor and his dad went to check on Jake and his third man. His bodyguard was alive. He left everyone to check the rooms even if his instincts screamed at him that Blaire was gone. He returned to the kitchen where his father met him.
“We need to call for an ambulance,” the senator said.
“No,” Viktor said. “The AGS is involved now and we want to keep this under the radar if possible. I’m sure Spencer and his cronies are monitoring first responder channels. I’ll get someone here.”
Grant watched Viktor call that someone on his smartphone. He remembered his father mentioning how the CIA couldn’t operate in the homeland without local law enforcement taking the lead. As the AGS boss made arrangements for medical service to be brought in, Sully and Tyler emerged from the elevators. His bodyguard shook his head to indicate that they hadn’t found anything, while Sully approached Viktor.
“You trust them?” Grant nodded to the two men while helping his dad transfer Jake to the couch. The AGS guys were standing at the edge of the living room by the picture window, presumably to stay out of earshot.
“They’re the best, son,” the senator confirmed. “If anyone could get Val and Blaire back it’s AGS. If they think it’s hopeless, we’re screwed.” His father searched his face. “How are you holding up?”
“Hanging on,” Grant admitted. “I can’t afford to lose my shit now.” He looked at Viktor and Sully again. “I want to be in on every opportunity to find Blaire and Val. I’m not letting anyone tell me I can’t.”
“You and I are too close to this,” the senator said. “We need to let them take the lead.”
“And they will,” he agreed. “But I’m not going to be idly standing by waiting for news.”
“What happened in Miami, Grant?” his father asked suddenly. He never told the senator that he’d shot and killed someone to save Blaire, but he admitted his and his crew’s part in the Orlov takedown to the feds assigned by the DOJ to handle the ROC case.
“The good guys won, Dad,” Grant stated simply.
And they were going to win again.
Viktor’s EMTs arrived. Grant learned
that the AGS top man had contacts in most of the major cities when certain services were required. Much like what happened to Drew, his men had suffered mild concussions from their falls and needed to be given an intravenous solution to counteract the effects of the tranquilizer.
Grant went to his office and started loading cartridges into the magazines of his Sigs. Sully walked in and surveyed the arsenal on his desk.
“Looks like you’re preparing for war.”
“I want to be ready,” he muttered.
“You can’t come with us when the time comes.”
He looked up and fixed the other man with a raptor stare. “You think you can stop me?”
“You don’t want to get in the way. When we get a lock on Blaire’s position, it’ll be a quick surgical mission. In and out. That’s what we do.”
A muscle ticked at his jaw. Grant lowered the bullets and the magazine. His hands were shaking from cold rage. “They took her from me, Sully. I want to kill every last one of them.”
Sully sighed and perched at the edge of his desk. “Believe me, man. I know exactly how you feel.”
Grant’s brows furrowed and he lifted his gaze to see a haunted look cross Sully’s face. The man wasn’t lying; he’d been through this before.
“My wife, Beatrice … she was taken by our enemies to send her father and me a message,” Sully swallowed hard. “They tortured her, cut her up, and then dumped her in front of my house.”
“Jesus,” Grant whispered.
“The waiting was agony, but that moment when they dropped her off, when I didn’t know whether she was alive or dead … it was the worst fucking feeling in my life,” Sully said. “I got her back, but it changed me. We’ll get Blaire back, Grant, but that’s not gonna be the end of the fight.”
Grant already understood what Sully meant, but he let the man speak.
“You’ve lost her once when she was captured by Orlov,” the other man continued. “The fear of losing her made you put a tracker on her? Am I right?”
“Yeah.”
“You’ll be a basket case for a while. You’ll be afraid to let her out of your sight. Not for a single moment if you have a choice.”
“I’m fucking fine with that.”
Sully grinned. “I know you are. I see men like you all the time. We’re fiercely protective of our women.” He paused. “Welcome to the club.”
Grant didn’t know if Sully made him feel better or worse, but it was of some comfort that the other man understood what was at stake. Grant didn’t give a damn about the twenty-six billion dollars, he’d give up everything he owned if he could get Blaire and Val back. Money could be made. Blaire and his sister were irreplaceable.
Before Grant could respond, Tyler walked in. “We have a lock on Blaire.” His man was confused. “Several locks.”
Sully swore viciously and called for Viktor. He came into Grant’s office with the senator.
“Just what we feared would happen.”
Viktor swallowed a curse. “I’ll get Tim and MDI on it.”
“What’s going on?” the senator asked.
“Why is the tracker showing twenty-five locations for Blaire?” Grant asked.
The AGS boss looked grim. “What I think … Yashkin has developed an anti-serum that would momentarily mask the signal. Spencer would have injected it into Blaire, then he’d have extracted enough blood to float three carrier devices.”
“Carrier devices?” the senator repeated.
Viktor nodded. “Recent technology. Just discovered two months ago. It mimics the host’s blood frequency. Equipped with a booster and redirectors, it can keep the blood viable for three days relaying signals.”
“That’s some serious crazy shit, Baran,” Grant muttered. “So one of those signals is Blaire and the others are decoys? Can you crack it?”
“That’s why we need my analyst, Tim. MDI is the manufacturer of the BloodTrak serum.”
“You think they’ll give you access to proprietary information?” Grant asked, knowing the importance of intellectual property.
“Oh, they will,” Viktor said arrogantly. “It’s a blow to their ego to have their technology hacked, besides the CEO of MDI is sort of my brother-in-law.”
Despite the gravity of the situation, Grant lips tipped up in a faint smile. The way these two men seemed unfazed by the obstacles coming at them inspired confidence in their ability and that went a long way in stabilizing his emotions enough for him to function and see reason.
“Seems like a good idea to invest in military contractors,” Grant murmured. His father shot him a disapproving look. Being the Vice Chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee would put them in a clear conflict of interest.
Viktor chuckled briefly. “That’ll put you at the top of your game if protecting your woman is your priority. Although, I warn you, our types don’t play nice with men in suits of non-military background.”
“I’m a fast learner,” Grant replied.
42
Blaire
“Wake up!”
I didn’t want to open my eyes. My lids felt like lead and the voice was like a bee buzzing in my ear. I tried to shift my position on the bed. My eyes popped open. The mattress creaked too much.
“Wake up, Blaire.”
“Valerie?” I finally recognized the voice and sat up. Grant’s sister was sitting on the edge of a twin-sized cot. Her eyes filled with relief.
“Oh, thank God, you’re okay,” she cried and hugged me. I wasn’t sure if I had entered an alternate universe so I surveyed my surroundings, noting the tall crates and boxes and wide-open space. We were in a warehouse and there was a man off to one side holding a rifle. And then I recalled everything. Val kidnapped. Grant leaving the penthouse. Andy coming by and faking his misery when he was the mastermind who’d betrayed us all. Plus, the bastard tranq’d me.
“Just a bit groggy,” I replied, grimacing at the cottony feel of my mouth. “Did they hurt you, Val?”
“No.”
“Do you know where we are?” I whispered.
“Hey!” Our guard called. “No whispering or I’ll separate you two bitches.”
“Charming,” I muttered. “Where’s Andy?”
“He’s around somewhere,” Val said, her voice turning hard. “I can’t believe I fell for his boyish act.”
“We all did,” I said and lowered my voice again. “Do you know how many guards—”
The guard growled and stalked toward us. He yanked Valerie off the bed as she gasped in outrage. I jumped off the bed, got between them, and rammed my fist into the man’s face. He let go of Val and was about to backhand me when footsteps came running.
“Rex!” Andy scowled at his man. Beside the senator’s fake aide, stood Suit-Guy from the gallery. He had a laptop under his arm. But my eyes momentarily locked on Rex. He looked familiar.
“Good, you’re awake, Blaire. We can’t waste time,” Andy stated. He motioned for Suit-Guy to get situated at a desk that had several wires attached to computer equipment. “I believe you met Eric at the gallery?” I turned to Eric who gave me a mock salute.
On another table were the paintings. They’d been cut from their frames and laid stacked on top of each other. Above the table was a swivel lamp and magnifying glass. Beside it was what I suspected was a spectrometer. “Do you need anything right now? Are you hungry?”
“All right,” I stood back and swept my arms out helplessly. “You all have to tell me what I’m supposed to find underneath that.”
“Numbers, Blaire,” Andy said impatiently. “We tried to leave you out of it, but Kostin concealed the numbers very well, it’s hard to separate the pigments. You’ll have to go in there manually.” He scowled at me. “Don’t give me that look.”
He stalked over to Val, yanked her arm, twisted it behind her, and held her in front of him. “We don’t have time. Your damned tracker is causing us problems and it’s not like we can cut it out of you. I’ll hurt Valerie if I have to.” He
jerked the arm behind Val higher, but Grant’s sister, although in pain, wasn’t giving Andy the satisfaction.
Brave girl. Now if I could figure out how many people we were up against and plot our escape.
“Release her and I’ll get started,” I said. “I need a scalpel, solvent, a bowl of water, and clean rags. Think you can get me those?”
“Do you really need the scalpel?” Andy asked, pushing Val off to the side. There was a hurt look on her face, but I couldn’t analyze what she was feeling at the moment, although, it would wreck me if Grant had used me the way Andy had used her. Hopefully, she wasn’t in too deep with him yet.
“Do you really want those numbers?” I countered. Ugh, I wanted to punch him in the face. To think I thought his boyishness was adorable. Now he made my skin crawl. That two-faced bastard.
He came back moments later with a box cutter. “This is all I have.”
“It’s not ideal, but it will do,” I returned coolly then settled in front of the desk and got to work.
Three hours later, my back and eyes were killing me. The solvent had also nauseated me. My fingers were tired from maneuvering the box cutter. I was miserable, but I had uncovered the two bank account numbers they needed. I had passed the paintings through the scanner and noted that each painting hid four account numbers.
I wasn’t sure what Suit-Guy, Eric, was doing with the account numbers, but he confirmed the money in them, and it sounded like they were distributing it to different accounts.
“You need to work faster,” Andy murmured close to my ear while his hands massaged my shoulders.
“Take your hands off me.”
His fingers disappeared and he plopped down on a chair beside me. “You know, Blaire, I really liked you.”
“Lot of good it did me—you still sold me out,” I muttered as I scraped some paint off a section to reveal a 2. A thought occurred to me. “Did you put the bomb under the car, Andy?”
Val gasped.
“Rex was the senator’s driver that day, wasn’t he?” I asked. “He didn’t have a beard then.” It had finally clicked where I had seen him. “He told you I was secure in that Bentley and wouldn’t get killed in that rollover, but you didn’t care about Amelia.”
Captive Lies Page 27