Abduction

by Michael Kerr

  “Are you going to kill him?” Karen said.

  “That’ll be up to him. But whatever happens he’ll no doubt spend the rest of his life in prison. He has to be put out of circulation.”

  Karen wanted to believe that Logan was lying to her. But she had listened to her father on the phone. Deep down she knew that it was all true.

  “I don’t know the man you’re talking about,” Karen said. “It’s hard to accept that he could be so bad.”

  “Very few people are what they seem to be,” Logan said. “Human beings are complex, with more sides than a dice. What you see is hardly ever the whole truth. Every one has secrets that they hope to take to the grave with them.”

  “Why are you so involved with this?” Karen asked.

  “I sometimes turn up in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or the right place at the right time for people that need help. The child’s mother was about to be raped by men that worked for your father…”

  Logan told Karen the whole story, which reduced her to tears. She felt dirty in some way, because she had Nick Cady’s blood running through her veins and shared his genes. It was as if she was the progeny of a monster. And subconsciously she knew that what Logan had told her was true. He had no reason that she could think of to lie to her, even though she wished that he did. A part of her had known that her father was not what he purported to be, and that just deepened the guilt she now felt.

  Tom had gone outside to sit in a plastic chair at the side of the door and smoke a cigarette. He was totally committed to helping Logan, but wished that it was over with. He wanted to get back to his life with Gail, if that was still a possibility. There was a chance that they would never be safe if they continued to live at the store. Time would tell.

  “You hungry?” Logan said to Karen.

  Amazingly, she was. “Yes,” she said.

  “Good. We’ll go and eat. I’ll trust you not to do anything foolish. I want this to be resolved without anyone else being harmed.”

  They climbed into the Pathfinder and Tom drove the short distance to Dalton’s Diner, which was at the crossroads of minor roads that led nowhere worth going.

  The diner was rustic both outside and inside. And the owner must have been a movie buff of a certain age, judging by the framed posters of long gone film stars on the wood-cladded walls. Most were of screen goddesses of a long gone era: Ava Gardner, Jean Harlow, Rita Hayworth, Jane Russell, Ingrid Bergman, Lauren Bacall and many others. A couple of them were signed.

  “Table for three?” a waitress with too much makeup to camouflage the passing of time, but shapely legs that she wore a short leather skirt to showcase, asked.

  “A booth at the back would be good,” Logan said.

  Mandy Dalton showed them to a booth, past a log fire that gave the low lit eatery a homely ambience, and handed each of them a menu.

  “Can I get you folk something to drink?” Mandy said.

  “Just water,” Karen said.

  “Coffee,” Logan and Tom said in unison.

  “What are you going to do?” Karen asked when the waitress had left.

  “Eat,” Logan said.

  “Not funny, Logan. I meant about my father.”

  “Arrange a meet with him and exchange you for the girl,” Logan said. “And hope that he doesn’t do anything that would put anyone at risk.”

  Mandy brought the drinks and Logan said that they were ready to order. He and Tom asked for Black Angus rib eye steaks with all the trimmings. Karen ordered a chicken salad, which when it came she hardly ate any of; her appetite had deserted her and she just pushed the food around her plate with the fork.

  Halfway through the meal a sheriff’s cruiser pulled up in front of the diner. Two deputies came in and ordered coffee to go.

  Karen was tempted to just jump up out of her seat and scream for help, but Logan sensed her tension, put his hand on her forearm and said, “If you call out or make a run for it, those two young men will end up lying in pools of their own blood. This is serious shit, Karen. Do you really want to be responsible for people dying?”

  Karen’s shoulders slumped. The moment had passed. When the deputies left Logan let go of her arm and carried on eating. He felt a great sense of relief, because his threat to kill them had been a bluff.

  Forty minutes later they left Dalton’s. The food had been excellent. The steak may not have been the best that he’d ever eaten, like Kimberley Fuller had said it would be, but it was up there in the top ten he’d had in quite a few years.

  They drove back to the motel and Logan took a rolled T-shirt from his rucksack and gave it to Karen. “Do you want to grab a shower and wear this to sleep in tonight?” he said to her.

  Karen nodded as she took it from him, then headed for the bathroom.

  “I’m going to have a scout around the area,” Logan said to Tom. “Are you okay with guarding her? She’ll make a break for it if she gets the chance.”

  “No problem,” Tom said. “I’ll put the chain on the door and sit in front of it till you get back.”

  The sky was clear, but forked lightning streaked down to bite and scorch whatever it hit, and was followed more than ten seconds later by a low and distant rumble of thunder. There was a storm on the way.

  Driving back to the four-way stop in Copeland, Logan made a left and headed east on the narrow blacktop. After driving for over a mile he saw two large signs on a post that was leaning over at a thirty degree angle to the ground. He stopped and read the faded lettering by the light of the SUV’s full beams. The top sign read: Do not enter. Protected area. All plant, animal and cultural resources protected and regulated. The sign below it stated that it was illegal to feed or harass wildlife, and that alligators should not be approached. Seemed to Logan that if people took any notice of the first sign, then the second one was superfluous. He turned onto the gravel track at the side of the signage and drove the winding length of it to tall double gates set in a galvanized wire fence. Metal signs with the same messages as those back on the road were bolted to the gates.

  Leaving the Pathfinder locked, Logan climbed over the gates and walked slowly and carefully along a trail that almost petered out after a hundred yards. The slight rise of the land in front of him had shielded a structure that now came into view. The large roof soon disclosed the timber built observation tower beneath it. He carried on walking, now in a sea of wind-whipped sawgrass. More tongues of forked lightning lit the scene, and only five seconds passed before a drum roll of thunder heralded the rain that was approaching from the Atlantic Ocean.

  He surmised that the tower had been built in the approximate center of what appeared to be an extremely large indented circle; a bowl in the ground. Perhaps the raised edges had been built by Native Americans to protect a village from the elements. It was like a very shallow volcano crater, full of grass.

  Reaching the steps to the tower, Logan was faced by a chain that ostensibly barred access. Pinned to one of the support beams was a bright yellow plastic warning sign giving notice that the structure was unsafe. Bending low, Logan ducked under the chain and climbed the first flight of stairs. The treads creaked in complaint, and one was partially missing. On the first landing was the rotting, partially eaten body of a turkey vulture. Stepping around the bird he walked up the second flight. The handrail was missing. He tested each riser before putting weight on it, and made it up to the top without incident. Part of the roof had caved in and was resting on the floor. Large drops of rain pattered on all exposed surfaces, and he knew that it would soon be bucketing down.

  Looking out from the top of the tower, Logan had an open view of the surrounding terrain. He decided that this would be a perfect place for the handover. No one could approach without being seen and being vulnerable as they crossed the open grassy area that circled the tower for a distance of at least two hundred yards.

  He thought it through for a while, in no hurry to get wet. Standing under the solid part of the roof, he looked out at the s
torm that was now almost overhead. He found the sight of the brilliant crooked tines of lightning and the sound of almost deafening cracks of thunder stimulating. It would soon pass, clearing the air and cutting down the humidity for a while.

  Half an hour passed before he speed dialed Cady’s number.

  “When and where?” Nick said, knowing that it was Logan on Jade’s phone.

  “Be ready to leave before dawn. Palmer told me that you drive a blue Mercedes S 350. Be in it, and have Kelly safely strapped in a children’s seat in the rear. Bring Jade along for the ride to look after her while you’re driving. When I phone again I’ll tell you where to head for. If you arrange to be tailed I’ll know, and you’ll never hear from me or your daughter again. This is a onetime chance to deal with a straight deck, Cady. It’ll be up to you how it works out.”

  Logan switched the cell off and carefully descended the tower to the ground and made his way back to the Pathfinder, not rushing through the now lighter rain, knowing that whatever speed he moved at he would be soaked to the skin. He drove back to the motel in need of dry clothes, coffee and a couple of hours’ sleep.

  When he got back he knocked at the door to the room and said, “It’s me, Logan.”

  Tom moved the chair and let him in. There was fresh coffee ready. Logan took off his wet jacket and then poured himself a cup. Looked across at the far bed and saw that Karen was under the comforter. She appeared to be asleep, but he was pretty sure that she was listening. He drank a mouthful of coffee and then went into the bathroom to rub his hair and wipe his face with a towel. Coming back out he sat on the end of the other bed and said, “I spoke to your dad again, Karen. Why don’t you quit pretending to be asleep and have some coffee?”

  Karen turned to face him, and then sat up. “What have you arranged with him?” she asked.

  “To be ready to leave Fort Myers before dawn. I said I’d give him directions. Thing is, he won’t play it straight. He’ll be thinking up some plan to get you back, keep Kelly, and kill us.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ALAN Norris’s head was bandaged, but he was okay. He had a thick skull. He wasn’t suffering any serious after affects from the blows inflicted by the silencer of the gun that Logan had hit him with. The guy had not intended to kill him, or he would be in a morgue drawer now, not walking up the stairs to see Cady.

  Bobby Thornton had dropped him off outside the office and then returned to the Bunker. Bobby wasn’t sure what was happening, and didn’t want to. Something big was going down, that was for sure. But he’d much rather not know what. Guarding the prisoners was his job. He was what Nick Cady called low echelon, and he knew that it meant he was low ranking in the scheme of things.

  Alan walked into the office and Nick approached him and put a meaty hand on his shoulder, as if greeting an old friend. Larry was there, but stayed in his seat.

  “You sure you’re okay, Al?” Nick said. “If you need a couple of days off to recuperate, that’s fine. But we’ve got the chance to take Logan down in the morning, and I thought you’d want to be there and have a piece of him. He has my daughter.”

  “Where’s Vince,” Alan said. “Bobby said that he hadn’t seen him around, but his Jag’s in the lot.”

  Nick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. Swallowed hard and said, “Logan took him out, Al. Cold-cocked him at his house, tortured him for information and then put a couple of slugs in the back of his head.”

  “I went to the house,” Larry said. “Drove his car back here and arranged for the body to be removed. We obviously didn’t want the police involved.”

  Nick poured Alan a Scotch and handed it to him. “Logan will suffer for what he’s done, Al. I want you to be there when it happens.”

  “I will be,” Alan said. “What plan have you got in place?”

  “We’ll get Jade here. Logan is going to call before dawn. By then I want a tracker fitted to the Merc, so that I can be followed from two miles back. You and Larry can follow me without him knowing. For all we know he’s in the area. He could be sitting in a Starbucks downtown with Karen, or be fifty miles away.”

  “He’ll make it a deserted location,” Alan said. “I don’t read him as being the type of guy that would want to risk a gunfight in a highly populated setting. I would think he’ll lead you out somewhere remote, where he can see you coming.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “Because at Fleming’s apartment building he could have just shot Lenny and I dead, but he didn’t.”

  “After what he did to Vince, I don’t agree,” Nick said. “I want him whacked, but not if there is the slightest risk to Karen. We need to get her back before we take him out.”

  “There’s no saying that it’ll be a close-up and personal handover,” Alan said. “We know he’s smart.”

  “Meaning?”

  “That we need to anticipate the unexpected and be prepared for it. I suggest a scoped rifle, in case the only sight we get of him is from several hundred yards away.”

  “Can you handle one?”

  “Yes. Up to half a mile I wouldn’t miss. Over that and it would be a percentage shot. I was never a sniper in the SAS, but I was proficient. The men that are at the top of their game can take a target out from over a mile away in the right conditions. I haven’t got the time now to go somewhere and fire a shitload of practice rounds.”

  “Bring whatever you think will cover all contingencies,” Nick said. “I want both of you to realize that Karen’s safety is paramount. Killing Logan and whoever is with him is a secondary requirement”

  By four-thirty a.m. they were ready to move. Alan and Larry had visited the arsenal full of weapons in the Bunker. Alan selected a Barrett .50 sniper rifle with a maximum range of over two thousand yards, and a suitable scope and ammo. Larry opened a box and took a couple of M26 fragmentation grenades from it. He probably wouldn’t get the opportunity to use them, but had always had a hankering to pull the pin on one and throw it at somebody. It was a symptom of watching too many war movies. It would be a blast, literally, if he could blow Logan up with one.

  One of the truck mechanics came across from the on-site garage and put a small black box under the driver’s seat of the Merc. He then programmed Larry’s new cell phone and explained how the GPS worked and how Larry could follow the signal in real time on a screen in the Ford Explorer that they had decided to take. They could have relied on being talked in by phone, but this was insurance; they would know the Jag’s exact location at all times.

  Jade arrived in a cab. Nick told her what was going down. She looked and felt nervous. She was very uneasy at being involved. She thought that Logan was far more able and dangerous than Nick was giving him credit for. He would have planned this meticulously and taken into account that Nick was not to be trusted. He wasn’t the type to walk into a trap. He was dictating the rules.

  There wasn’t much to talk about. They sat around and drank coffee that Jade brewed downstairs in the office. One of the truck drivers had a kid’s seat in the back of his sedan, which was parked in the lot, so Larry went and got it and gave the guy a hundred bucks.

  “Are you going to do the deal with Logan?” Jade asked Nick.

  “Of course I am,” he said. “He’ll get the girl, and I’ll get Karen back, and then he’ll die.”

  “That’s what he’ll expect you to try and do,” Jade said. “He’ll have thought it through. I have the feeling that it’s us that will be walking into trouble.”

  “Do you have any suggestions?” Nick asked.

  “No, because we have no idea where he is, or what kind of trap he has in place. He’s had a lot of time to set this up.”

  “You’re overestimating him,” Nick said. “All he wants is to get the kid back. If he does, he’ll be happy to walk away in one piece. But that isn’t going to happen.”

  Karen picked up a pillow and hugged it and just stayed sitting on the bed and rocking back and forth. She bu
ried her face in the pillow and silently cried.

  “What’s the matter?” Logan said.

  It was a full minute before Karen composed herself and looked up. Her eyelids were red and her cheeks and the pillow were wet. “I thought that I had a good life,” she said. “Not just good, but nigh on perfect. Denton is my soul mate, and we live on a beautiful island and have successful businesses, and a condo overlooking the beach. But our good fortune is built on blood money; on the suffering of people that my father treats as nothing more than a means to make profit from. I feel ashamed of every day that I’ve been his daughter.”

  “You’re not responsible for what he is or what he’s done,” Logan said. “If you had no knowledge of it, then you have nothing to feel bad about. You’re a victim as well, but in a different way. And no money has blood on it. It’s just currency that gets circulated by all sorts of people, good and bad.”

  “So you think I should just go back, if this works out, and carry on as though none of it happened?”

  “In a way. I’d put it down to a life experience that I can’t alter, and reconcile it and move on. Don’t let who your father is and what he’s done screw your life up. That wouldn’t change anything, apart from blighting your future.”

  Karen took on board what Logan was saying. He seemed totally grounded and had a positive take on things. “Can I have that coffee now, please?” she said. “And I want you to know that I’ll do whatever I can to help you get Kelly back. I need to see this through as much as you two do.”

  Tom filled a cup and handed it to her. He then stepped outside and phoned Gail. Needed to hear her voice, and to let her know that so far he and Logan were okay.