Rescuing His Secret Child

by Maggie K. Black

  She held her breath and held him high, prayers filling her heart. They crossed under the emergency alarm.

  “Now.” She jostled Zander against the wall. His tiny hand jutted up and smacked the button hard. She held her breath and waited for the alarm to sound.

  Nothing happened.

  * * *

  So somebody had disabled the alarm, Nick thought as he watched Zander’s nimble hand shoot up and press what he guessed was the emergency button. Either that or Zander hadn’t struck it hard enough, which didn’t seem likely. Thankfully, none of the criminals seemed to have noticed what the small boy had tried to do. Plus, the kid was impressively quick.

  Erica had been the whole reason he’d joined the military to begin with. She’d always been so proud of her late father and grandfather for serving and believed in stepping up and serving one’s country. And she called her son “Little Soldier.” His heart didn’t begin to know how to make heads or tails of any of that. Of anything, really. So for now he stood back and watched as Erica, Zander and their armed escort disappeared into the first-class car.

  Nick kept his gun steady and aimed at the tall and bald thug, who Mr. Grand had called Orson, who now stood closest to the door. The bearded man, who apparently went by Fox, stood at the opposite end of the dining car with his gun. For now, Nick waited. Never a comfortable place to be.

  It seemed Erica was every bit as gutsy as he remembered. Although she’d been incredibly wrong to step in like that and sideline him. He was a military corporal. He was trained in handling conflicts and this wouldn’t have even been the first or second armed standoff he’d talked his way out of.

  But apparently all Erica could see when she looked at him was the irresponsible young man he’d once been. No wonder she hadn’t responded to his heartfelt letter.

  And how had he not known that Erica Knight had a son?

  He’d written to her about two months after the night his world had been blown apart—apologizing, pledging to be a better man, telling her about joining the military, begging her forgiveness. He’d walked the letter over personally in the hope of hand delivering it and asking her forgiveness in person. Her brother, Tommy, whom Nick had never got along with at the best of times, had met him at the end of the driveway, told him that Erica had moved to Kingston to go to Queen’s University and never wanted to hear from Nick ever again.

  Now he was surprised that Tommy hadn’t chosen to twist the knife in even deeper by telling him that Erica had quickly moved on to a new man. Then again, judging by what Zander had said about his father, it sounded like Erica was better off without him.

  As he stared at the empty space where Erica had been just moments ago, he felt an uncomfortable thought cross his mind. Zander was five. It had been almost six years since Nick had seen Erica. If it’d been any of his buddies standing in his boots, he’d have asked them how they could be sure Zander wasn’t their son. But as soon as he felt the question of whether Zander was his begin to form, he pushed it away firmly. No. He may not know much in this world, but he knew Erica’s character. Erica wouldn’t have kept that from him. Not her. Yes, he’d been irresponsible. Yes, he’d hurt her badly. But she was sweet, honest and kind. The idea that she’d keep his own son from him was utterly unthinkable...

  “Drop the gun,” Fox snapped. “Kneel down and put your hands on your head. Or I’ll put a bullet through your skull.”

  Nick pondered pointing out to Fox that he could do that, though probably not fast enough to keep Nick from putting a bullet through Orson first. But something told him Fox didn’t much care. These two and Lou were hired guns, he guessed, nothing more, and just doing a little freelance thuggery for the suited man Erica had called Mr. Grand. Fewer thieves probably meant a bigger cut for whoever was left standing at the end. Stories from his brother Trent’s undercover Vice days had taught him there was a certain criminal element that was willing to take on any job for a price.

  How the younger pair had got involved was a bit more of a mystery, because unless Nick was very much mistaken, neither of those two had ever held a gun in their lives, let alone fired one. Then again, there was a first time for everything. If Mr. Grand was after a case in the baggage car, it seemed like he’d gone to a huge amount of trouble to steal it.

  Nick glanced from the criminal behind him to the criminal in front of him. Could he shoot them both before either one of them managed to hit him with a bullet? Maybe. Maybe not. But he’d be selfish to risk his life in a shootout when Erica and her son needed him.

  Slowly he set the gun down and knelt.

  “So, fellas,” he said, “I think I’ve got this thing all figured out. But maybe you can fill in some of the blanks for me. I gather that Mr. Grand is the big boss man and he brought the two of you, plus a third hired gun, in on the heist. He steals an important thing. You wave your guns around and walk away at the end with a big payday. All that I get. But what I don’t understand is why he involved a couple of newbie kids. Or what could possibly be in the case that’s worth enough cash to make your cut of it worth your while. Because I’m guessing hiring guys like you doesn’t come cheap.”

  “Shut your mouth,” Fox snarled, tossing in a couple of swear words for good measure. Okay, Nick took that as an affirmative that he was on the right track, not that he had any idea where that track was leading him yet. “If you try anything, we’ll kill you and tell Mr. Grand that you tried to make a run for it.”

  He didn’t doubt it. Nick’s eyes rose to the ceiling. He listened to the rain beating against the outside of the metal tube they were traveling in, and prayed. He’d never been any good at being still and waiting. Even when he was supposed to be standing at attention he could feel his fingers fidgeting.

  Kneeling there, with two guns pointed at opposite sides of his head was probably the most excruciating moment of his life. Then, when Erica stepped back into the dining car, flanked by Mr. Grand, his eyes fell on her face, and just like he had so many years ago, he found himself telling God that he’d do anything in his power to protect her.

  “Nick...” She whispered his name like she wasn’t quite sure he was really there. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded. Her hand reached for him and instinctively he reached back into the empty air between them. He rose, his legs braced to drop to the floor at any moment if somebody gave him the command to stop. Nobody did. Instead he was vaguely aware as Mr. Grand nodded to Fox to unlock the far door.

  Then Erica’s fingers brushed against his and Nick was overwhelmed by the feeling of her hand sliding into his palm.

  He pulled her to his side. “Is Zander okay?” he asked quickly.

  Her eyes met his for the briefest moment and he watched the gold flecks dance against the sea of coffee brown. “Yeah. He’s with Tommy and Clark in a sleeper cabin. Rowan, Julie and Lou are guarding them. He’s scared but I think having your helmet and vest is helping. He’s a pretty brave and strong kid.”

  “Seems it,” he said. “I had no idea you had a child.”

  Her eyes widened. Her hand faltered in his and, for a moment, he thought her fingers were going to fall from his grasp. “Tommy told you!”

  “No, he didn’t.” His head shook. “Why would your brother ever tell me something like that?”

  To hurt him? To make him feel worse about losing the only woman he’d ever really cared about? At least this was the final nail in the coffin of any lingering question of whether Zander was his son. The Erica he’d known would’ve told him something like that herself and not counted on her hothead brother to play messenger.

  “Walk!” Mr. Grand snapped. “Single file. Nice and slow. If you so much as try to signal any of the other passengers for help, we will not hesitate to shoot.”

  But for a breath Erica just stood there, frozen, as if there were words hanging on the tip of her slightly parted lips that she didn’t know how to say. Then her mouth close
d, her posture straightened and her gaze brushed past him to the far door. He squeezed her hand and was relieved when she returned the pressure. She didn’t let go of his hand, but she didn’t link her fingers softly through his the way she used to, either. No, this was more like the grip of someone grabbing a brother or sister in arms to help pull them out of the trenches. He’d take it.

  They walked out of the dining car and through the train. Nick’s eyes scanned the sleeping passengers as they passed, single file, through the economy passenger cars, looking for additional threats and potential assets. He didn’t spot anyone who was obviously law enforcement or active military. A stately and quite elderly man dozing with his small gray-haired wife curled affectionately into his side, definitely had military bearing, but he was also probably over eighty. The very tall, muscular man in blue jeans, black T-shirt and a blazer, who he’d noted earlier, sat with his eyes closed beside two men in suits. Definitely looked like private security. But just because a man served as muscle for money didn’t mean he’d leap altruistically into a battle he figured didn’t concern him.

  Mostly what Nick saw were potential casualties. Couples slept draped over each other. Students and mine workers stretched out on uncomfortable makeshift beds of seats and suitcases. Nick felt the weight of all their lives press heavily on his shoulders. Did anyone suspect the danger they were in, wonder why they were walking so closely together or notice the telltale bulge of weapons underneath the men’s jackets? Probably not.

  Erica used to say that most people were so caught up in their own little worlds they didn’t notice much. She was probably right about that, but it had never applied to her. It was like she’d noticed everything. At least, where he’d been concerned. Whereas he’d always been good at reacting instinctively in a way that bypassed the logical part of the brain.

  He found himself praying hard that Erica was right and Mr. Grand and his crew would quickly and quietly leave the train at Coral Rapids.

  They reached the baggage car. The train jolted, and he felt Erica fall against his side. Her lips brushed his ear so quickly he barely caught her furtive whisper. “When I give the signal, run to the rear engine and alert the guards.”

  What? Without her? He scanned her face, but her gaze had dropped to her watch.

  “Get the door,” Mr. Grand commanded. Erica pulled her hand away from Nick’s and punched a pass code into the keypad by the door. They stepped into the baggage car. Metal cages, shelves and footlockers lined the walls, filled with suitcases, sports equipment and packages of every conceivable shape and size. Even a very impressive motorcycle. Why go for a single case when someone could rob an entire train? No road access meant even the mail came by train.

  Lord, what am I missing? Why steal one case? Why didn’t the alarm go off? Where is the rest of the train staff? Why isn’t someone noticing this on the security cameras? Please, help me get what’s going on here and what I’m supposed to do about it.

  They walked through the baggage car to a tall metal cabinet. “Open it.”

  Erica nodded and punched another code into the cabinet’s keypad. The door swung open.

  “That one!” Mr. Grand pointed to a briefcase that sat high on a shelf. “Get it down!”

  Erica stood on her tiptoes and Nick was impressed at how well she kept her balance in high-heeled shoes. The large case was silver, with a double locking system, like the high-security cases he’d seen his detective brothers use for keeping evidence and weapons. It was the kind of case he’d have expected to see handcuffed to whoever had been assigned to transport it, not sitting alone in a baggage compartment. Chalk that up as another thing on the big list of things that made no sense.

  The train slowed beneath them. Any moment now, they’d be in the station.

  Erica set the case on the floor and Nick blinked as a name and logo came into view: North Jewels Diamond Mine.

  He blinked again. Yeah, definitely not the kind of case he’d expect to see unaccompanied. Was this a jewel heist? North Jewels Diamond Mine was located in a very remote area of Canada’s Arctic, accessible only by tiny prop planes flying out of airports like Moosonee. His brother Trent had helped in a huge undercover operation that had proved multiple high-level staff had been coordinating with unknown government officials to siphon diamonds from the mine’s operations into organized crime. Last he’d heard, some arrests had been made and trial dates had been set, but witnesses weren’t talking.

  “Open it,” Mr. Grand said. “Combination is two, eight, seven, one, pound.”

  Erica knelt and fiddled with the dial.

  The case clicked open and Nick held his breath. No diamonds. Instead a shiny black laptop sat inside, streamlined, thin and also inscribed with the North Jewels logo. Then he felt a swift poke to the shin. He looked down at Erica. Her eyes rose to the door at the very end of the car. Her lips moved and he read two silent words. Run! Now!

  And leave her like this? No way.

  “Perfect,” Mr. Grand said. “Close the case and pick it up.”

  Erica broke Nick’s gaze. She clicked the lock closed and stood. Her shoulder shifted under the weight of the case. Her fingers tightened on the handle. Then she started counting down from ten under her breath.

  Hang on. What was she doing? Counting backward was never a good thing. Under any circumstances. He felt his right eyebrow rise. She wasn’t even looking at him now. Instead her silent countdown continued.

  Six. Five. Four.

  No! Stop!

  Three. Two.

  Erica!

  One.

  The train jolted and lurched to a stop, more suddenly than he’d expected, tossing everyone off balance and sending them stumbling.

  Everyone except Erica.

  Planting her feet beneath her firmly, she swung, holding the case high in both hands. She struck Mr. Grand. The gun flew from his grasp. Erica turned and pelted down the baggage car to the door that led to the rear engine.

  Go time! Nick steadied himself and brought his elbow back, knocking Orson’s gun away before the thug could take two steps after her. But then a cry slipped through Erica’s lips as Fox caught her by the hair and dragged her back, his weapon pressed to the side of her head.

  “Nice try.” Mr. Grand stumbled to his feet. He touched one hand to his bleeding lips. “Looks like you’re going to be more trouble than expected.” He turned to Fox. “Tie them up tightly, and take the case.”

  The metal butt of a handgun struck Nick hard against the back of his skull. He pitched forward and the final image that filled his mind before he passed out was Erica’s face locked onto his.

  THREE

  Consciousness returned slowly to Nick’s throbbing head, starting with the shrill whine of train wheels picking up speed on the rails somewhere beneath him. The floor vibrated, shaking his body. Nick opened his eyes and saw nothing but a gap of light filtering through the murky gray darkness around him. He tried to sit up but could barely move.

  He was inside some kind of box, by the feel of it. Cold metal pressed against his body beneath him, above him and in front of him. His hands were tied behind his back. His legs were bound. Panic pressed like a fist against his chest, choking the air from his lungs and making his breath shallow. Memories of spending a night in a small jail cell at the police station the night of his accident welled up inside him. He’d never done well with being trapped. He couldn’t handle being confined.

  Help...me, God. I need...to calm...down. He forced himself to breathe deeply, gulping in a long breath and holding it a moment before blowing it out again. And thank You, God, they didn’t gag me. Then something soft and warm brushed against his back, filling his body with hope. He rolled over slowly, shuffling around inch by inch until he was lying on his other side.

  “Nick?” Erica’s voice filled the darkness. He felt her breath on his face. Her head fell against his shoulder and an un
familiar feeling filled his chest like melted glass expanding from a glassblower’s pipe.

  “Erica.” Her name left his mouth like a sigh. Questions flooded his mind. Where were they? How had they got there? Why did it feel like the train was speeding up when the last he remembered it had stopped? Where was Mr. Grand and his crew? But for right now, in this moment, there was only one question that burned at the top of his mind. “Are you okay? Please tell me they didn’t hurt you.”

  “I’m fine,” she said softly.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really,” she said. He whispered a prayer of thanksgiving into the darkness. “How about you?”

  How was he now that he was breathing again, the panic had subsided and his heart had stopped pounding? Frustrated. Worried. Almost a little anxious when he thought about Zander getting caught up in all of this. The scent of her filled his senses. It was soft and gentle like lavender and pine needles, which reminded him of warm summer days and the sun pelting down as he ran through the trees from his farm to hers. She moved toward him and he felt her nestle against his chest as the train jostled them together and then apart again.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me. Just tell me what happened. Where are we?”

  “We’re still in the baggage car in one of the lockers,” she said. “They knocked you out and tied you up. They tied my hands behind my back and ordered me to get in here. And I did, because I figured it was best that one of us stayed conscious. Then they locked us both in.”

  So they hadn’t wanted to kill them. They’d just wanted them alive but out of the way. Hopefully that meant that despite the size of the crew, this really was just a simple theft.

  “There should be two staff in the rear engine,” she said. “A conductor and an engineer. Once we get out of here, we can alert them.”

  And go make sure her son was okay. She hadn’t said the words out loud. But somehow he could hear them loud and clear just the same.