Vanished: A Beautiful Mess Series Novel

by T. K. Leigh

  She wrapped her arm around Melanie’s shoulders and pulled her against her chest, snuggling her close.

  “I’m scared, Mommy,” she muttered.

  “It’s okay, baby.” Olivia kissed the top of her forehead. “Daddy’s coming.”

  “How do you know?” She tilted her head and Olivia met her eyes…those same green eyes as Alexander’s.

  Since she was taken less than forty-eight hours ago, Olivia wanted nothing more than to hold her in her arms, to stare into those green eyes once more, but not like this.

  She didn’t know how it happened. It was all a blur. One minute, Martin was driving her through the tunnel toward the Prudential Center in Boston. The next, the SUV was surrounded. She tried to fight, but they were outnumbered. The last thing she remembered was someone pointing a gun at her head, ordering Martin to tell them where they were hiding the girls. If it were anyone else, she knew he’d never disclose that information.

  But it wasn’t.

  He would have taken that information to his grave, but he wouldn’t let Olivia do the same. She had felt a stabbing pain in the back of her head, then blacked out. The next thing she knew, she was opening her eyes, staring at the living room of her old house on Commonwealth Avenue…now one of the security company’s safe houses. Despite Olivia’s connection to Alexander, it was impossible to trace the safe house back to either of them.

  “You know your father loves you very much, don’t you?” she asked her daughter. Melanie nodded. “Because of that love, he’ll stop at nothing to keep you safe, even if that means putting his own life on the line.”

  “But I don’t want Daddy to get hurt because of me.”

  “That’s what Daddies do, princess. They sacrifice everything they hold dear to keep those they love safe.”

  “And Mommies, too?” She looked at Olivia.

  She met her eyes, becoming more aware of the little baby in her arms. Glancing down, Olivia studied his peaceful face, having finally fallen asleep, completely oblivious to the armed men standing watch.

  “Yes, sweetheart. Mommies, too.”

  “Are you going to be the baby’s mother now?”

  “No. Selena will always be little Landon’s mother. But I’ll try to keep him safe as long as I can.”

  “Just like a mother would,” Melanie said.

  “Yes, love. Just like his mother did.”

  She pulled Melanie back to her, wishing she could use her arms to shield her from all the horror she had witnessed in the past forty-eight hours.

  Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back. She couldn’t remember the last time she actually prayed. She couldn’t say whether she believed in God or not, but she did believe there was some higher power. For the first time she could recall, she pleaded with that higher power to watch over her family. It was all she could do.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  December 20

  5:05 PM

  ALEXANDER THREW THE SUV into park just outside an FBI perimeter that looked more like a construction zone. He glanced to Moretti. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Do you think your wife would really want you to trade those girls’ lives for hers?”

  “No, but—”

  “This will work,” Moretti assured him, narrowing his gaze. “I’m damn good at what I do. I know you’re damn good at what you do. Together, we’ll take this group down, but will do so without putting any more civilian lives at risk.”

  Alexander nodded, taking a deep breath. He’d never felt so nervous and unsure of an operation before in his life. There was always a human factor to what he did, but this time, he could lose everything. He’d already lost Martin. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing Olivia and Melanie, too.

  Opening the door, he stepped onto the snow-covered pavement, the usually busy Boston street alarmingly quiet. Commonwealth Avenue was typically a main thoroughfare of the city. The lack of life was a little distressing.

  “A team of agents have advanced the area and were able to evacuate all the residents within a five-block radius of the safe house. They told them some bullshit story about a gas leak,” Moretti explained, walking with Alexander, handing him an earpiece and radio.

  “And you weren’t worried about it raising any suspicion?”

  “I’m sure they expected us to evacuate. This woman wanted you to know exactly where she was, that she was able to outsmart you. The warehouse was probably a setup, probably part of her plan all along.”

  Alexander briefly closed his eyes, knowing Moretti was right. In investigations like this, it was sometimes difficult to see past what was a trap and what was a viable lead. He had been so anxious to finally get Melanie back, he should have known it was too good to be true. Now, Martin was dead. It was probably all part of her plan to catch him off guard, and it worked.

  Trying to shake it off, Alexander followed Moretti to a staging area that had been set up in Boston Common Park, fire personnel and paramedics on standby in case it all went to shit. Moretti’s plan was dangerous, particularly with no way to communicate with the girls in the house, but it was the best they could come up with on such short notice.

  As they approached a pop-up tent, silence fell over the chatter between several agents armed with Benelli M3 shotguns, making it readily apparent that Moretti wasn’t messing around. This wasn’t an operation to simply disarm and detain. He wasn’t anticipating any of the perpetrators to walk away with their lives.

  Checking his watch, Moretti addressed the team. “We have five minutes. You’ve all been briefed?”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the agents responded, catching Alexander’s attention. He turned, noticing Agent Long. Then he surveyed the rest of the agents. Every last one of them was female. Now it all made sense.

  “Mr. Burnham will do his best to lure the captors out. Based on the video, we believe there are five heavily armed militants, gender unknown, and one woman. Once the girl is safe, I’ll give the signal. Let’s move out.”

  “What about the rest of the women they’re holding captive?” Alexander asked, running to catch up with Moretti as he strode through the park.

  “My priority is getting your daughter out safe and in one piece. I’m hoping if you do as you’ve been told, we’ll be able to take down the perps, then extract the rest of the women. Your daughter needs to be our priority.”

  “But they have my wife, too!” Alexander bellowed over the wind.

  “And I’m sorry about that. We have a plan in place to get your daughter out with no further trauma to her. If this woman takes the bait, it will increase our chances of getting the rest of them out unharmed, as well. You were given one hour, Mr. Burnham.” He raised his wrist, showing him the countdown on his watch. “Time’s almost up, so let’s go. I sure as hell don’t want to find out what happens if you don’t show up.” He spun around and got behind the wheel of a large passenger van, the armed female agents, along with a few emergency medical personnel, filing into the rear compartment.

  Alexander hesitated, wishing there were some way to guarantee everyone would get out with no further harm, but he knew Moretti was right. His priority needed to be getting Melanie out in one piece. Then he would worry about the rest of the women.

  Jumping into the passenger seat of the van, he looked at Moretti.

  “Ready?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “Let’s do this,” Alexander answered.

  Moretti cranked the ignition and headed toward the safe house. As they were waved into the FBI perimeter, Alexander prayed this would work. That by the time Aliyah realized the agents weren’t the women in question, it would be too late for her to do anything about it.

  The van seemed to move at a snail’s pace, the sound of tires crunching on snow grating on Alexander’s nerves. They passed block after block of darkened houses, the only lights those of Christmas decorations the homeowners hadn’t turned off before evacuating. Alexander had driven down this same street countless times, even in snowstorms lik
e this one. It had always been full of warmth. Today, in the darkness of night, it was barren and haunting, no sign of life to be found.

  When the van slowed to a stop a block away from the safe house, the agents jumped out, long dark cloaks worn over their body armor, hiding their guns. They wrapped scarves around their heads, their faces all but hidden, except for their eyes. Unease crossed Alexander’s face, and he felt as if he had aged years in the past two days. What if Aliyah figured out it was a trap? He prayed these women were as good a draw as Moretti claimed they were.

  “It’s time.” Moretti glanced at him.

  Alexander pulled his pistol out of his holster and made sure a round was chambered, then returned it to its hiding place.

  “Even if they ask you to surrender your weapons, we’ll have your back.”

  Letting out a breath, he opened the door to the van. “I hope so.”

  Making his way up the block, the team of agents followed behind him, their heads lowered. As he treaded carefully in the snow, he couldn’t ignore his gut telling him this was a bad idea. From watching him work with persistence and complete disregard for anyone and anything in his search for the truth, Alexander knew Moretti was a good agent. That still didn’t alleviate his fears that something horrible was about to happen. He hoped, for once, his gut was wrong.

  Facing the three-story brick building, where he had kissed Olivia for the first time all those years ago, Alexander pulled his phone out of his jacket, his pulse racing as he found Aliyah’s contact and dialed. He gripped Agent Long’s arm as they all stayed huddled together, feigning terror, just as Aliyah answered.

  “Mr. Burnham,” she said in her accented voice. “I was beginning to think you would leave your wife and daughter to fend for themselves, just like you failed to come save your friend. Oh, what was his name?”

  He pinched his lips together, glaring at the front door of the house with venom in his eyes. “Landon,” he muttered.

  “Yes. That’s it. Landon.” She laughed a vindictive laugh. Her voice had taken on a malicious quality, at complete odds with the warm, compassionate woman he thought her to be. He had a thousand questions about how she could have been involved with all of this, given everything she had done at the ministry, but none of that mattered. All that did was getting his family back.

  “I brought the girls, just as you asked,” Alexander said, not wanting to dwell on the past.

  “So glad to see you finally came to your senses.” He could almost hear the smile in her voice. “Send them in, then you’ll get your daughter back.”

  “It’s not going to work that way,” Alexander replied. “Look out the window. You can see I brought the girls. They’re all here and accounted for. Every last one of them. I’ve held up my end of the bargain. Bring Melanie out, then you and your men can take the girls inside.”

  “I’m not so sure you have a leg to stand on, Mr. Burnham. You do realize one of my men is holding a gun to your wife’s head at this very instant.”

  The lights in the living room of the house sprang to life and Alexander saw Olivia standing in the bay windows, holding that poor baby. A man dressed all in black stood next to her, a gun to her temple. But she wasn’t crying. She didn’t look scared at all. She looked strong, fearless.

  Their eyes met through the window. A thousand memories rushed back in an instant. He’d spent so many nights in his car, staring at her through those windows after an argument, wondering if he’d ruined his chances with her. But he hadn’t. They’d made it through it all. Staring into those beautiful brown eyes, he knew they’d somehow make it through this, too.

  “That’s fine. Two can play this game.” Alexander pulled Agent Long toward him. She made sure to keep her eyes down as he retrieved his weapon, holding it against her temple. “You already killed one of the girls. I have over a half-dozen out here with me. Each minute that passes that you don’t send Melanie out, I’ll kill one.”

  “Alex, what are you doing?” Moretti’s voice muttered in his ear. Something just clicked. Alexander had a feeling there was more to this than just upholding age-old traditions. He was taking a huge risk, but they’d overlooked one of the biggest motivators there was…money.

  “You’ve already shot one of the girls to make a point. I don’t care if they live or die,” Alexander said harshly, hating to say the words, but he had to. “Hell, until this morning, I didn’t even know they were still alive. No skin off my back if they’re dead.” He cocked his weapon so Aliyah could hear the clicking of the gun over the phone. “Isn’t that what you want anyway?”

  “No! Don’t.”

  “Interesting,” he continued slyly, allowing a smile. “It appears you do care whether they’re still alive. How much are you getting per girl? Or is each family different? Did you shoot that poor girl because she was worth less? Do you still get paid if you return them in a body bag?”

  He placed his hand on the trigger, praying he was right, that he hadn’t misread the signs.

  “Fine! You win!” Aliyah bellowed. “I’ll bring your daughter out, just as soon as you lower your weapon and throw it in the snow.”

  Hesitating at the thought of being unarmed, he tried to find comfort in Moretti’s assurances he would have his back. Tossing his weapon to the side, he stepped away from Agent Long, their eyes meeting. He gave her a silent apology and she nodded slightly.

  “Done. Now send Melanie out.”

  “Fine! Fine!” She shouted some orders in her native Pashto as the phone went dead. Alexander widened his stance, his eyes focused on the red door of the safe house, drawing in steadying breaths as snow fell around him.

  Finally, the door opened and Melanie’s frame appeared. Just as Moretti had hoped, Aliyah and one of her men stayed in the house while the rest of her militants filed out the door and down the steps, one of them pushing Melanie in front of him, his hand gripping her shoulder harshly.

  Melanie’s face seemed to lack the innocence it did just a few days ago, tears cascading down her cheeks. Her curls had grown limp, her vivid, innocent eyes showing the terror she had been forced to witness first-hand.

  Rage filled Alexander, his face burning, despite the snow and low temperatures. He didn’t care about answers anymore. He wanted Aliyah to suffer for what she had put his little girl through. It took every ounce of resolve to not pick up his weapon, march into that house, and put a bullet through her heart, but this would only work if he kept his head. He needed to focus on getting Melanie to safety. The rest would fall into place.

  Melanie’s shoeless feet crunched in the snow as the man kept a hand on her shoulder. Finally, after several tense moments, the man released his grasp and pushed her toward Alexander. He quickly fell to his knees, wrapping her in his arms, soothing her sobs. He kissed her head, savoring the warmth of her, not wanting to let go for anything. Despite everything he had done over the past two days, there were moments he didn’t think he would ever be able to hold his daughter again. Now, he never wanted to let her go.

  “Daddy, what about Mama?” Melanie cried as he cocooned her, rising and rushing down the block toward the van.

  “Don’t worry, princess. She’s going to be okay,” he assured her, opening the door of the SUV.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the bay window of Olivia’s old house. Aliyah’s attention was entirely devoted to what was going on outside, completely oblivious to the sole FBI agent now padding lightly into the hallway from the basement entrance to the house. He remained just out of sight, hovering against the wall around the corner from the living room everyone was assembled in.

  Outside, Aliyah’s men approached the group of cowering women. They didn’t even bother bringing to bear the automatic weapons they wore slung over their shoulders, apparently assuming the girls wouldn’t put up a fight.

  “How?” Melanie pushed.

  He met her fearful eyes once more. “Because I’m here.” He placed her in the back seat, one of the paramedics immediately wrapping her in a b
lanket and doing a preliminary examination. “I need you to do me a favor. You remember the fireworks we saw during the Fourth of July? How loud they were?”

  She nodded. Alexander caught motion out of the corner of his eye. Aliyah’s men were within arm’s reach of the undercover agents.

  “It’s about to get just as loud, so cover your ears, sweetheart. And no matter what you do, keep your eyes facing forward. Don’t look back.”

  He slammed the door shut. The sound of its tires turning up snow met Alexander’s ears as Moretti’s voice crackled into his earpiece. “Go.”

  A barrage of bullets erupted, the agents who had their heads down just moments ago drawing their shotguns in one swift motion, firing at the unsuspecting men. Their bodies fell to the ground like dominoes, their blood bright against the white snow.

  Alexander rushed up the block toward the house just as more agents swarmed the front living room from where they had been hiding in the basement. Aliyah’s only man left raised his weapon, ready to get off a shot, but he was no match for the trained agents closing in on him. Without blinking, one of them fired and the man in black fell to the floor.

  Retrieving his gun from the snow, Alexander dashed up the front steps and into the house, his weapon raised, ready to take Aliyah out with no mercy. He was about to fire when Aliyah pulled Olivia back to her, holding a knife to her throat. The baby Olivia held in her arms wailed as Alexander glanced down at their feet to see Selena lying in a pool of blood.

  “Don’t come one step closer! Tell your men to lower their weapons and kick them over here, or I will cut her and you can watch her bleed!” She shot her eyes from Alexander to the team of agents with their guns trained on her, then back at Alexander again. Her expression almost maniacal, a woman desperately trying to hold on to the little she had left, Aliyah pushed the long blade against Olivia’s throat. “Tell them!” she shrieked.