Emilia leapt up and moved back. The liquid was all over Clive’s face, and it had to be burning like hell. She’d prayed that it would shoot up into his eyes. Instead, he grabbed a thick towel and, yowling like a stuck pig, rubbed at his stinging skin.
Ignoring the pain in her ribs, Emilia was at the door as fast as she could get there, then slid the lock open. But Clive was too fast for her. He overpowered her and dragged her back.
Her plan had failed. Clive should have been blinded by the acid, but instead he was furious. His skin would be scarred, but that wasn’t her concern. In a blind rage, he pulled her away from the door. All rationality seemed to have left him.
Clive yelled and cursed at her. “You’ll pay. That was your last chance.” He held her in a tight grasp, making her realize how strong he was. With his other hand, he pulled out his phone. “We’re coming out.”
Great, he had a partner in crime on site. She should have known that he wasn’t alone. What now?
Clive yanked her by the hair, although she fought and kicked. Her antics didn’t seem to affect him, yet pain tore through her ribs, incapacitating her. Then he reached for a bottle and a pad. In big letters on the front was chloroform. He doused the pad with the green stuff and put it over her face, covering her nose and mouth.
Emilia tried not to breathe it in, but the scent of minty mouthwash was suffocating. What Clive didn’t know was that the label was a joke, one of Grigori’s pranks. But that was to her advantage. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, as though knocked out.
Clive tossed her over his shoulder, and she let her arms dangle, making sure to keep her body limp and not cry out when her sore ribcage smashed against his back. Then he took her to an interior elevator that led to the parking garage. She prayed that security would see him, but that was unlikely.
Emilia could think of no way to escape. She cracked her eyes open to tiny slits to see that a beefy guy was striding toward them. And he had a gun. Not only could she not outrun them, she couldn’t fight them, and she was doubtful about dodging a bullet.
Clive slid her onto the back seat and got into the passenger side. “She’s out cold. It will be a while. Let’s get going. That over-muscled SEAL will show up soon, and I’m not in the mood for him.”
“Did you get what we need?”
“I have her. That’s all we need. I know the ingredients for the medicine, and the formula for the stabilizer is in her head,” Clive said. “And it won’t take long to beat it out of her.”
“What happened to your face?”
“It burns like fire, that’s what,” Clive said. “Now get us the hell out of here.”
The driver exited the garage at a normal pace, cautious not to attract attention. If security looked on the camera, Clive would appear to be leaving with a friend. Emilia dared not open her eyes or sit up, as that would give her away. Her attempt at beating Clive at his game had failed. All she’d succeeded in doing was making him want to kill her for real.
She’d have to bide her time and wait for an opportunity. When she didn’t arrive at the hospital, Hawke would look for her and discover her car in the lot. But the security guard would be of little assistance. Plus, Hawke would have no clue who was behind her abduction, or where she’d been taken. Terror gripped her. She had no idea what was going to happen, or if there was any hope that help would arrive. It looked like she was going to have to handle this on her own.
Chapter 18
As soon as Hawke got the call from Emilia, he left his headquarters then headed for the hospital. On the way out, he told Ryker where he was going and that he’d be in touch. The hospital wasn’t too far, so he arrived in under forty-five minutes.
Doctor Casey was at the nurses’ station. “Hawke, good to see you. This is an exciting day.”
“Yes, I wouldn’t miss it. Is the patient here?”
“Yes, Asha is asleep right now, which is the best thing for her. Her parents are sitting and waiting with her.”
Hawke went to the room to look in. Asha was hugging her doll while taking a nap. Her parents looked up and smiled. It wouldn’t be long now. He nodded at them and returned to wait for Emilia. The lab was nearby, so she should have arrived.
Possibly, Emilia was delayed getting the medicine prepped. He wasn’t sure what that involved, but he watched the seconds tick by, wondering when she’d be there. A few more minutes passed with no sign of her, so Hawke sent a text.
He asked how soon she’d be there. She didn’t reply, which was odd. Impatient, he phoned but got voicemail. An alarm bell went off in his head. This was a big moment for Emilia; there was no reason she’d be off the radar.
Something wasn’t right. Hawke went to look for the doctor and found her in the hospital room. He stepped inside, and Asha’s eyes opened. She looked pale and didn’t move, but said, “Is Emilia here?”
“She’s not here yet,” Hawke said.
“Is she still coming?”
“Yes, sweetheart,” Hawke said, “she’s still coming.”
The doctor followed Hawke out of the room, letting the parents know that she’d be right back. “Anything wrong?” she said.
“I’m not sure, but Emilia is late. And she isn’t answering her phone,” Hawke said. “Could be nothing, but I’m going to the lab to check it out. If she shows up, text and I’ll come right back.”
Hawke jogged out to the Jeep. He was concerned. Emilia had told him that she kept the treatment formulas mixed and ready, so that shouldn’t have been an issue. If the enemy had any chance of stopping her, now would be the time.
His gut told him that something was amiss. There wasn’t a second to lose, so he raced to the lab.
When Hawke pulled into the parking lot, he spotted her car. That was a relief; she must still be there. He scanned for any activity, but it was quiet. There were a couple other cars, one quite a few rows over—could be a security guard’s vehicle.
Emilia had provided him with an extended visitor pass, since he was there so often. He flashed it at the guard at the entrance. “Is Emilia here?”
“She checked in earlier,” the guard said. “I assume so, since I haven’t seen her since.”
That was good news; she must have been held up.
“Is anyone else working today?”
“Just Clive, the HR manager,” the guard said. “He got here just after Emilia.”
Hawke took the elevator up to the lab. The door was partially open, so he went inside. The first thing he noticed was Emilia’s phone on her desk. That explained her failure to answer. Her purse was next to it, but he didn’t see her.
“Emilia?” Hawke walked past her desk and noticed a mess on the long workstation. There was broken glass all over, and liquid on the floor. Whatever had been in that beaker was potent, as it had etched lines across the smooth countertop.
Hawke strode toward the hallway while talking to Ryker on the phone. “I’m at the lab. Emilia is missing. I need backup. There was an explosion. I don’t know if she’s injured.”
After ending the call, Hawke quickly searched other offices. “Emilia!” he called. The sound echoed in the hall, but there was no answer. He had a horrible thought and raced toward the stairs, taking them two at a time to the lobby. He plowed through the door and ran to the security desk.
There were screens surrounding the guard’s chair, showing views from cameras in the building. “Which one is the garage?”
The security guard indicated a view in the upper row, and Hawke brushed past him. The gray Camry he’d seen in the lot was leaving. Two men were inside. “Who is that?”
“Just Clive,” the guard said. “He must be with a friend.”
Hawke sprinted toward the parking lot. “Call the police. There’s been an incident in the lab…and Emilia’s missing.”
He ran for the Jeep then fired it up. There was a reason he’d had it supercharged. He peeled out of the lot toward the exit, but there was no sign of the other vehicle. The most likely route wa
s toward the thoroughfare to escape.
While Hawke had been going up, Emilia’s abductors were probably going down in the internal parking elevator. He’d just missed them, but that wouldn’t be the case for long. He had an advantage, because they didn’t know he was behind them.
The disaster he’d seen in the lab was alarming. Was Emilia injured…and how badly? Was she conscious? The fact that he hadn’t seen her in the vehicle was a bad sign. He had visions of her tied up in the trunk, so hurried even more.
Weekend traffic was sparse, so Hawke was able to pick up speed. At the edge of downtown were signs to the freeway. If the Camry got there first, he couldn’t be sure which way they’d gone. He floored it to go around two other vehicles.
In the distance, he saw the taillights of the Camry as it slowed to turn onto the frontage road. He whipped the wheel in that direction and gave the Jeep more gas. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, but he went into combat mode, staying calm and in control.
The Jeep roared down the road until the Camry was in sight. Hawke maintained his speed until he was right behind the other vehicle. It didn’t matter if the driver knew he was being followed.
Hawke intended to run them off the road if he had to. He had to stop that car. The two men were still inside, but he saw no other activity. The driver glanced over his shoulder.
“That’s right, asshole. I’m right behind you.” Hawke waved his hand, indicating the driver should pull off the road. But not surprisingly, the Camry sped up.
Then through the rear window, Hawke saw blond hair, and a slender woman leap up from the back seat. Emilia! Suddenly the Camry swerved off the road, over an incline and out of sight.
Hawke pulled to the edge of the road, hopped out, then glanced down the hill. The Camry had stopped, so he raced toward it. He plowed through brush and slid over loose rocks until he arrived at the scene. Then he skidded to a stop.
Emilia cried, “Stay back. He’s got a gun.” Blood trickled down her cheek.
The muscled driver had his arm around Emilia’s neck and his gun was pointed at her head. “Stop right there,” he said to Hawke.
Clive was out of the car and stepped forward with a knife in his hand. He blocked Hawke’s line of sight to Emilia. “Don’t let her escape, Orson,” he said, holding up the knife. “I’ll take care of the SEAL.”
Hawke evaluated his attacker. He didn’t know the guy’s capability, but his arrogance could get him killed. Hand-to-hand combat was Hawke’s specialty, so his opponent had no clue what he was up against. Meanwhile, Emilia was being held at gunpoint, so Hawke was in no mood to play around.
Clive hunched his shoulders and ducked his head to make his body as small a target as possible. He extended his knife-holding arm in front of him, flexed at a forty-five-degree angle. He used his other arm to guard his chest.
That wasn’t bad; the guy wasn’t new at knife play. But it wasn’t good enough. “Back off, asshole.” That was the only warning Hawke intended to give. His opponent’s confidence didn’t appear shaken, as he came at him with a vengeance.
The idiot didn’t seem to realize that a knife used improperly was more likely to imperil the user than wound another. Clive failed to turn his torso to the side, instead leaping directly at Hawke. He slashed the knife from left to right, aiming for Hawke’s chest.
But Hawke moved with lightning speed, avoiding the sharp blade. While Clive was off balance, he kicked him in the gut, then snatched the knife from his hand. In one fluid motion, he plunged the blade into Clive’s gut, dropping him to the ground.
Emilia caught Hawke’s gaze and, taking his cue, launched her elbow into her captor’s gut and slipped to the ground. In that split second, the gun fired at Hawke. As a searing pain scored his side, Hawke drew his weapon.
In a seamless motion he’d practiced countless times, he moved his untucked shirt out of the way while he whipped his gun from its holster. Supporting his right hand with the left, he popped his wrist, pointing the weapon—all the while, his eyes remained on the enemy.
The bullet struck Orson’s shoulder before he got a second shot at Hawke. When he doubled over, Emilia flew to Hawke’s side. He wrapped his arm around her, keeping his gun pointed.
Orson glanced at his own gun, in the dirt by his feet.
Hawke stepped closer and aimed his gun at the man’s head. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”
Orson put his hand over the shoulder wound. Blood soaked his shirt. “Don’t shoot,” he said, then fell back against the car.
Sirens sounded, then police cars pulled along the roadside above. Officers came down the hill, weapons drawn. But the action was over by the time they got to the scene.
“What the hell?” Lonnie said, looking at the injured men.
“You got here fast,” Hawke said, dabbing at his left side, feeling the warmth of his blood.
“Ryker called, so I brought the backup you asked for,” Lonnie said, watching his officers secure the others. “Good thing you have a tracker on your Jeep. I knew right where to come.” He shook his head. “Looks like we’re a little late.”
“Nope,” Hawke said, “just in time. You should probably call an ambulance for those two, though.”
Lonnie looked at Hawke’s injured side, then at Emilia’s face. “You don’t look so good yourselves.”
Ryker leapt from his car at the side of the road and sprinted down the hill. He surveyed the damage. “Looks like you could take care of yourself.” Then he turned to Emilia. “You okay?”
She brushed her fingers over her forehead. “Just a scratch, I think. When I jumped from the back seat to force the car off the road, I hit my head on the steering wheel.”
“Sounds like quite a story,” Ryker said, then looked at Hawke’s bloody side.
“Grab my first-aid kit from the Jeep, will you?” Hawke said. “A bullet grazed me. There’s a lot of blood, but it’s just a nick.”
“If you say so.”
“And while I stop the bleeding, tell Lonnie we need a police escort to the lab then the hospital,” Hawke said. “We’re late as it is.”
Emilia hugged Hawke. “I’m so glad you got here when you did. I didn’t know what I was going to do. Then I heard Clive tell his partner that you were right behind us. All I could think of was stopping that car to give you the advantage.”
Hawke kissed her, then grinned. “And by the way, that was a pretty slick move back there. The elbow jab gave me the edge I needed. With some real training, you’ll be pretty good.”
Emilia gave him a playful punch on his good side. “I’d say you’re a bit late with that training.” She squinted. “And I didn’t know you carried a gun.”
“I keep one handy…hidden in the Jeep.”
Hawke handled Emilia’s cut, then she wrapped a bandage around his middle to stop the bleeding. Ryker helped them up the hill, and the police escort took it from there. With sirens blaring and lights flashing, they were sped to their destination.
When Hawke and Emilia got to the hospital, they went straight to the room. Doctor Casey was prepared to administer the treatment. Emilia went to the bedside and touched Asha’s cheek, then her eyes welled with tears. “We’re here, sweetheart.” That garnered a tiny smile from Asha.
*****
A few weeks later, Asha celebrated her seventh birthday. She had a big party and invited her friends, including Hawke and Emilia. On the day of the celebration, the sounds of children playing filled her home. She wore a sky-blue dress to match her eyes and had a white satin ribbon in her hair.
It warmed Emilia’s heart that she’d made it to that special day, and could look forward to many more. She looked across the room to see Asha in her father’s arms, with Dotty dangling by one hand. Hawke put his arm around Emilia, and she smiled at him.
“I didn’t know you were such a fan of birthday cake,” Emilia said.
“It’s not every day you can get yellow cake with an inch of frosting, complete with sprinkles.”
Emilia
laughed. It was good to enjoy treasured moments together without fear. She took a sip of punch, happy to be with Hawke—and pleased with how everything had turned out.
“There will be other children that won’t have to go through what Asha did.” She thought of her sister Arabella and what it would have meant to have the medicine then. She’d come so close to losing, again, but she hadn’t—and that was what mattered.
“So, Ryker has it figured out?” Emilia said.
“Yes, Clive Emmons, your HR manager, was really Sam Morgan—small-time thug from this area,” Hawke said. “He had some fairly shady connections.”
“I can’t believe the lab hired him.”
“In all fairness, crooks are talented at creating fake ID, résumés…whatever it takes,” Hawke said. “And that guy was good at disguise, too.”
“He was a capable fighter, not the mousey nerd I took him for.”
“He’d been on the streets, acquired some skills,” Hawke said. “It was easy to underestimate him. The fake limp…that’s an old trick. That pretense kept him under the radar.”
“It appears that Clive…I mean Sam was trying to move up to white-collar crime.”
“Those two amateurs were aiming for better financial rewards,” Hawke said. “But he and Orson couldn’t pull it off.”
Emilia took his hand. “Yes, with all the evidence Ryker uncovered, there’s a solid case against them. Attempted murder is at the top of their list of crimes.”
“And big pharma has been hands-off,” Hawke said. “Whoever his connection was disappeared into the woodwork. He didn’t want to be implicated in a murder conspiracy.”
“It all worked out,” Emilia said. “Mac has the review voucher, so development of other medicine is authorized for years to come.” She smiled. “And Tia didn’t get to wear her outfit to FDA headquarters—but she claims that she wasn’t too disappointed.”
Hawke kissed her palm. “I still can’t believe the scheme you came up with.”
Emilia sat on his lap to put her arms around his neck. “Are you still furious with me for not telling you?”
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