by Ivy Nelson
“How long does he have to live if I don’t help him?”
“Only God knows the answer to that, but the doctors don’t give him long. Perhaps a year or less.”
Her phone rang. It was Bradley. She hit ignore. Just a few more questions and she would head back soon, letting Homeland take over.
“I should go soon.” The coffee seemed to be upsetting her stomach. Or perhaps it was this conversation. She stood, and the room started to wobble. “Excuse me,” she said, and turned toward the hall where the bathroom was located. She started to go in, but before she realized what was happening, her brother was behind her.
“I apologize sister. But I really must insist that you come with me.” Shit. But her security was outside, and Homeland was listening. Surely they would be able to stop him. That was her last thought before her world went black.
• • •
“All nearby units, kidnapping in progress,” a voice squawked over Michael’s intercom in his SUV. Picking up the mic, he pressed the button to talk. “Chief Silas, I’m two minutes away.”
He listened as two other units in the area also responded. Then, he flipped on his sirens, made a U-turn and headed in the direction of the call. He’d been planning to surprise Adara at a protest she was attending. This was close by. With any luck, he could still drop by before she left. As he pulled up to the coffee shop he’d been directed to, a ball of fear developed in his gut. Two of Adara’s security detail were talking with police and that damned Homeland security agent was on the scene too. Fuck. Had something happened to Adara? He slammed the vehicle into park and jumped out, flashing his badge at the officer who had cordoned off the area.
“What the fuck is going on?” he demanded when he approached Agent Miller.
“I swear detective, we didn’t talk her into anything. She went on her own.”
“Went where? Who?”
“Adara met her brother here. And it appears he kidnapped her.”
“God damn it. I told you this was a bad idea. There was no way you could account for everything.”
“To be fair, she only gave us a two-hour heads up before the meeting. We did everything we could.”
“TWO HOURS?” he bellowed. “You knew she was fucking meeting this monster and didn’t tell me?” It took everything in his power not to reach out and strangle him.
“Sorry man. I figured she had told you or didn’t want you to know. Either way, I did my job.”
“No, you fucking didn’t. You let the bastard take her.”
“Calm down, detective. We can still find him. We were listening to their conversation, so we have an idea of where he’s taking her. He needs her alive, so we have that going for us. We have every airport on the lookout. They won’t get out of the country by plane and border checkpoints are being alerted as well.”
“Canada or Mexico?”
“Canada.”
Michael ran a hand through his hair. This was a fucking nightmare. What’s more, Adara proved that she didn’t trust him, and he wasn’t sure he could trust her now either. Bradley pulled up to the scene a few minutes later.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asked when he parked and got out.
“Adara met with her brother and didn’t tell any of us.”
“Damn it. I had a weird feeling when she insisted on getting coffee herself instead of letting a volunteer do it. I should have stopped her.”
“She went off on her own. There was no stopping her. Thankfully, she had the good sense to tell Homeland what she was doing. They were listening to her conversation.”
“We’ll find her. We have to believe that.” Bradley put his hand on Michael’s shoulder as he spoke.
“Terrorists, Bradley. Fucking terrorists have her and she didn’t even have enough faith in me to tell me what she was doing.” It was like a knife to his gut that twisted deeper every time he thought about it.
“She just didn’t want to worry you or piss you off. Our women are independent even if they are submissive. You know that. Don’t hold this against her. She’s spent years wondering about her family. You can’t blame her for the curiosity.”
Michael knew he was right, but it didn’t make it sting any less. He paced in front of the coffee shop.
“Let’s get to work finding her. Don’t leave it to this Homeland fucker. His mission is catching the terrorists, not rescuing Adara.”
Bradley was right. Michael took a deep breath and put his mask in place. Time to be the impartial detective he knew how to be. Badge in hand, he made his way inside the coffee shop where Stephen Miller had gone.
“I’ll be taking the lead on this investigation, Agent. It’s Metro’s jurisdiction.”
“He’s an international terrorist. I’m pretty sure it’s mine.”
“Sure, finding and catching terrorists is your job. It’s my job to make sure a kidnapping victim comes home alive. I’m the chief of special investigations. I’m taking lead. Or I can call the FBI and we both know they’ll take over for both of us.”
The agent sighed and held up his hands signaling defeat. “Fine. You’re right. The scene is yours, chief.”
Michael went to work interviewing witnesses and directing the collection of evidence. Based on security footage, he slipped something in her coffee. It turned out there was a back entrance that wasn’t covered by her security detail. That must be how he got her out. But he would have had to take her through a restricted area. He had some questions to ask.
According to the employees, it was a busy time, and nobody was in the employee only storage room. It wasn’t kept locked either. Everyone was at the front counter making coffee and serving Danishes. It made sense. It was a busy time for a coffee shop in a tourist area. There were no security cameras at the back entrance, so they didn’t know what kind of car the kidnapper put Adara in. Hopefully she still had her phone and they could track it. According to Agent Miller though, they were headed to Canada. He just had to hope they could stop them before they got out of the country. It was a hope he had to cling to, or he wasn’t going to make it through the day.
As he was finishing a witness interview, Agent Miller came rushing up to him. “He’s got her at a private airstrip. He’s not using an airport. If they take off before we get there, we’re going to lose her while she’s in the air, even if she keeps her phone.”
Fuck. They were going to lose her.
Chapter Twenty-One
It felt like someone had hit her on the head with a brick. Adara opened her eyes and blinked several times. Shit. Where was she? She raised her head and looked around. It looked like the interior of a private jet. Damn it. She’d walked right into a trap. What in the hell was she going to do to get out of this one?
“Welcome back, sister.”
“Where are we?”
“About to land in Canada.”
“How are we getting through air traffic control and customs?”
“Don’t worry about the details, sister. We’re going to save our father’s life.”
“How do you even know my blood will be a match if none of your other siblings are?”
“I don’t. But we must try.”
“They’re going to catch you. When they do, you’ll vanish into a dark Homeland Security hole that there will be no escape from.”
He laughed as if she had just told the funniest joke. He really was that confident in himself. She closed her eyes again. When she did, Michael’s face appeared. It took all her strength to keep her composure. She hoped he wasn’t too angry with her for not telling him what she was doing. She wished like hell she had. Then she probably wouldn’t be in this mess.
The plane’s landing gear lowered as they approached a runway. This wasn’t an airport but an airstrip in the middle of nowhere. How had they pulled this off? Mid-thought, she felt a prick on her shoulder. When she looked up, her brother was holding a syringe.
“I’m afraid I need you to sleep again, sister.”
When she came to again,
she was lying in bed. Her arm was sore at the elbow joint. She looked down to see that someone had drawn blood and placed a bandage over the puncture spot. On the bedside table was a bottle of water and a variety of snacks.
The door opened as she was cracking open the water bottle. Her hand froze, still gripping the cap. It was the man who was supposedly her father.
“Hello, Adara. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m sorry it’s under less than ideal circumstances.”
Dumfounded, she just stared. “You don’t look sick,” she said after a few moments of awkward silence.
“I have good days and bad days. Today is a good day. Perhaps it is the hope that having you here brings.”
“I don’t want to help you.”
The old man smiled. “I understand. But your help is appreciated, nonetheless. Now, I hear you have questions about your birth. The least I can do is answer them for you while we wait for the results of the blood test.”
She took a long drink from the water bottle. Setting it to the side, she took a deep breath and looked him square in the eye.
“Did you kill my mother?”
There was that smile again. It was a smile that would have been endearing if she hadn’t read about his atrocities.
“I can see why you would ask that, but no. She died due to complications with childbirth. You look just like her you know.”
“Did you rape her?”
“It took some convincing, but she came to my bed willingly.”
Adara doubted that. “How did you convince her of that?”
“It was a far better living experience than the rest of the other hostages were having.”
So, he’d bribed her. “She slept with you out of self-preservation.”
He nodded, not bothering to disagree with her.
“You’re despicable.”
“I think if you took the time to get to know me, you might not be so quick to judge.”
“I’ve read all about you and your history. Nothing that has happened to you justifies the innocent lives you’ve taken.”
“Ah, so my daughter is feisty. I approve.”
She fought the urge to spit. Comfortable bedroom or not, she was still a hostage, and she had to keep her wits about her if she was going to survive this.
A knock at the door shook her out of her thoughts.
“The blood results are back. She is a match father.”
The old man looked at her. “I prefer you help willingly, but my son is insistent that you will help me willingly or not. It’s a simple procedure, Adara.”
She closed her eyes trying to determine the best response. “You know what, I will help you. But only because when the U.S. captures you, I want you to rot in prison for a very long time.”
He chuckled. “That is unlikely my sweet daughter, but I will accept your gift, nonetheless.”
She scowled at the merriment in his tone. The bastard was too damn smug. They were going to force her to help one way or another though. It seemed like it might go easier for her if she went willingly.
“A medical team will be available to help us tomorrow, Father. You should get some rest tonight. My sister will be fine here.”
The old man shuffled out of the room bidding her a goodnight. When both men had left her room, she stood. There was a window in the room, but it had been cemented shut. The door appeared to be locked from the outside. She was definitely trapped. She looked around for her cellphone but there was no luck. Too much to hope for, really. She grabbed an apple from her bedside and sat in the chair. Even if she helped them willingly, she didn’t see how they could be planning to keep her alive. Unless she was able to keep them talking to her.
She closed her eyes and prayed that Homeland security had been able to track the plane and knew where she was. She didn’t know where or when her phone had vanished. With any luck, it made the trip to Canada before it was discarded. These were smart terrorists though. It was unlikely they had made that mistake. She curled up in bed again and tried to sleep. But all she could see were images of Michael and the rest of her friends mourning her death after she was killed. Hamilton would need a new home. Michael would take him.
Sleep must have overtaken her because she woke with a start when her bedroom door flew open.
“Time to get up, sister. I’ve brought you breakfast.”
He sat a tray next to the bed. Eggs, pancakes, and some kind of potato side graced the plate. With her fork, she took a small bite of eggs. It wasn’t until then she realized how hungry she was.
“I don’t suppose I could get some bacon,” she said dryly.
Her brother laughed. “A sense of humor is a good thing, sister.”
She started to take a sip of the coffee that was on the tray but stopped. “This isn’t drugged again is it?”
It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that he’d drugged her coffee before she got to the coffee shop.
“No need. I apologize for having to do that. It seemed easier than bringing a gun to D.C.”
“What happens next?”
“The medical team will be here soon. The procedure will be over in less than an hour.”
“Then what? I don’t see how you let me go.”
“We hope you’ll learn to be comfortable with us. You are family after all.”
She closed her eyes and tried to remain calm. It was a relief—sort of—to know they didn’t plan to kill her. Michael and the others would never stop looking for her. There was still a chance at being rescued. She just had to keep her cool and cooperate.
“I wanted to kill you, but father won’t allow it. He’s taken a liking to you it would seem.” She tried not to react to his admission that he wanted to kill her. It didn’t surprise her, but it was still shocking to hear the words out loud. She had a feeling her brother was even more vicious than her father. With her eyes closed, she took another swallow of coffee.
“I’d like to be alone now please.”
Her brother nodded and stepped out of the room. She jumped when she heard the lock click. It would seem, she was truly fucked.
Two hours later, she was being escorted to a sterile room that had been set up much like a hospital room with state-of-the-art medical equipment. It seemed that terrorists had better health care than many Americans. That didn’t seem right.
The medical team explained exactly what was going to happen. It sounded simple enough. Very little chance of complications, so that was good.
After they had her lay on the table, she breathed deeply as they instructed, and once again everything went black.
• • •
“It’s been two days. Why the fuck can’t you find them Miller?”
“We’re working on it, detective. I promise. You’re too close to this. You need to back off and let us do our jobs.”
Michael paced his office, his cell phone pressed to his ear. He was doing everything in his power to stay calm and it wasn’t working. Terrorists had Adara and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. He fought the urge to hurl his phone against the wall. Agent Miller was keeping him in the dark. As soon as it was determined that the kidnappers had left the country with her, he had lost the jurisdiction battle to Homeland, the CIA, FBI, and half a dozen other members of the alphabet soup that made up the federal government. Miller was supposed to be keeping him in the loop though.
“Are they in Canada? Do you know that much at least?”
“They are definitely in Canada and we think we’ve located their hideout. We’re working with a SEAL team on a potential rescue. I promise. I’ll let you know if and when something is going down.”
Michael didn’t believe him. He had a buddy that was a SEAL though. He would make a phone call.
Peter stuck his head in the door. “You got a minute? I think I’ve got something.”
Michael ended his call with Agent Miller and waved Peter in. “Come on in. What do you have?”
“Adara’s flag pin is transmitting again. No idea wh
y. I suspect wherever they are holding her had some sort of signal jammer in place. Don’t know why it would be turned off unless they are trying to transmit something.”
“So, we have a location we can give the SEAL team?”
“My sources say the SEAL team isn’t the first option. If Homeland is telling you that, they are jerking your chain. Carrie has a source in the White House, and they are considering a tactical strike designed to take out Hadawi. Hostage rescue is low on the priority list if it’s even on the list at all.”
Michael swore. He should have known Miller was just leading him on. “What do we do? I have a buddy that’s a SEAL, but I don’t know what he can do if his team isn’t getting spun up for a rescue.”
“Let me handle this. It’s unlikely that the U.S. chooses a drone strike because it’s fucking Canada and that would be a diplomatic fucking nightmare. But if a SEAL team does get tasked with taking out the terrorist, we might still be able to get them to put hostage rescue at the top of the list. I also have some…contacts who might be able to help.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. When Peter said contacts, he probably meant mercenaries and off the radar black ops security specialists. Peter knew some dark people but if they could rescue Adara, he didn’t care. “Make the call. I want her back Peter. I’m pissed as fuck at her, but I want her back.”
Peter nodded. “I see it in your eyes, man. You want to walk away after you rescue her. Remind me to tell you about my beginning with Carrie sometime.”
“I just don’t know how I’m supposed to trust her after this. She clearly didn’t trust me.”
“Now isn’t the time to make these decisions.” Michael closed his eyes. Peter was right. He just needed to focus on bringing her home alive.
“Let’s go get her. Where’s Bradley?”
“He had a campaign event with his dad today but he’s coming to my place tonight. He’s not exactly rescue-operation material but we have his moral support.”
Michael did his best to get through his day. He didn’t take the day off work because he had access to resources in his office to try and find her. He sat at his computer researching Faisal Hadawi. Thanks to Adara’s conversation with her brother, he knew something about the disease he had. In order to do the bone marrow transplant he needed, they would need a medical team. They were likely being blackmailed or otherwise coerced unless they were radicalized themselves and were helping the old man to further the cause.