by J. B. Havens
I heard voices, catching my name, I stopped to listen.
“Mic wanted us to wake her up.” I heard Pierce say.
“Yeah, but did you see her? She looked like crap. Let her sleep.” Red replied.
“I can’t imagine what she’s going through. It kills me not knowing where P.J. is and I’m not even her father. I want to get out there and find this bitch and skin her alive.” Rook’s deep voice rumbled.
“Guys! Carter is calling.” Jones said I heard the slight crackle of the speakers as the call patched through to the phone.
I walked into the room, hating the pity I saw on their faces. We’d completed countless missions, many more intense and dangerous than this, but never had I had my men treat me with kid gloves. I wasn’t fragile dammit. I wasn’t going to shatter into a million tiny razor-sharp pieces, even though internally that’s what I felt like.
“Carter, Mic here,” I said, not looking at my team.
“Mic, good news. We got a hit on the facial recognition software. Is the fuzz there?”
“Yes, go ahead.” Constable Williams said, he hadn’t moved and was still sitting in the same chair. A half-drank cup of coffee in front of him.
“Her name is Mary Grant. She was in the system for some petty theft about ten years ago. No record since then. Spouse is George Grant. I’m sending you their address now. They live in a shitty little flat not far from that store she went to.”
“Any other information? What about the husband?”
“Georgy-boy can’t hold down a job. It appears he has a drinking and gambling problem. The cops have been called to their place a few times for domestics. It seems he’s your classic drunken wife beater. Real all-star this fucker. They have no children that we can see in the records.”
“I’ve got the address, Mic.” Jones scribbled it onto a piece of paper and passed it over.
“Carter, I owe you one.”
“No, you don’t. You owe Liam. He had to grease some palms to get access to the system this fast.”
“I’ll update you when I can. Wish you were here, you were always good at kicking in doors.”
“Stop fucking talking to me and go get our girl.” The dial tone was loud in the room, echoing off the stone walls until Pierce reached out and disconnected the call.
“Ma’am. Thank you for the information, we will get a team over to the residence a.s.a.p.” Constable Williams spoke up, he held his phone and was tapping away on the screen rapidly.
“You make that sound as if I don’t get to ride along? I hope you realize that you are mistaken.”
“No ma’am, I’m afraid it’s you that is mistaken. With all due respect, you are a civilian. You can’t go.”
I moved to lunge across the table and throttle the little bastard, but strong hands held me back. I looked up at Rook.
“Bad idea, Mic. The last thing we need is you sitting in lockup.”
“Fine,” I growled, wishing I had a weapon on me. I was murderous at the moment. “Someone, please wake up Chris,” I ordered the room at large. Pierce stood and left the room without a word.
“Thank you for cooperating, ma’am. I may not know exactly what your job used to be, but I can see that whatever it was, you were in command. I can appreciate the position you are in here. I promise, we know what we’re doing, and we’re going to do everything we can to bring your daughter home safe.”
“If we didn’t believe that, you’d be tied up in the closet or worse,” Flynn said. It was apparent the officer didn’t know if Flynn was joking or not. I knew he was perfectly serious, but I wasn’t about to clue him in on it.
Chris came into the room, anxiety bleeding off him in waves. “Jordon, it’s okay. We have a lead, but we have to stay here, which I’ve agreed to under protest.” I tried to force a calm façade I wasn’t feeling for his sake.
“They threaten to lock you up? Because I’m sure, that’s the only way they got you to agree to stay here.” He moved to stand beside me, putting his hand on the small of my back.
“Yeah, pretty much.” Rolling my eyes, I took a seat at the war room table and put my head in my hands. My heart was breaking, inch by inch, every minute Phillipa was with those strangers.
“Mic. They’re at the apartment,” Jones spoke softly. Nickoli sat beside him in the other chair at the long computer desk, both of them typing and manipulating the screen above us. They are still hacked into the CCTV around the block where the flat was. I saw a group of S.W.A.T types stacked up behind the door and waiting to breach their way in. I gripped the edge of the table with my hands, my knuckles turning white and my nails biting into the wood.
“They’re in.” All the officers were inside now, and we stared at the empty street, anxious to see them emerge. Several tense and silent minutes passed and then, the door again opened. The officers came out, leading a man in cuffs.
“She’s not there.” My heart stopped for a second, then rage built within me, and it began to race with adrenaline. “Where is my daughter?!” I screamed, I shrieked and lost my mind. I grabbed and threw everything within reach, chairs, the phone, coffee cups, and anything else that was within my reach. I lost myself in my anger and despair. I knew the statistics if your child wasn’t located within the first twenty-four hours the chances of finding them alive dropped by half.
“Bea!” Chris’s face appeared before me, worried and scared, his eyes held mine trapped in his gaze. “You have to stop.” He spoke softly, holding my attention as my chest heaved from exertion.
“I need her back! Stuck with some stranger who’s taking her fuck knows where. We’re Steel goddammit! Why are we sitting here on our hands and letting the police try and find our girl? We should be gearing up, heading out, and kicking some ass. It’s what we fucking do!”
“Not this time, Mic. This time, we have to sit back and let the police handle it. We’re still Steel, always will be, but we’re civvies now. We can’t go kicking in doors and taking shots. Ending up in jail won’t help Phillipa.” Rook said, his deep voice cutting through my anger.
I looked away from him and buried my face against Chris’s chest. Tears ran silently down my face, soaking his shirt.
The phone rang from somewhere on the floor where I’d tossed it. Pierce knelt in the mess, rooting around for it. Finding it, he picked it up and put it to his ear. “Hello?”
We all listened in as he spoke to whoever was on the line. “Yes, she’s here. Okay. We’ll be right there.” He hangs up, carrying the phone and receiver back to the table.
“Mic, they want you and Jordon down at the station right away. They want to see if you recognize the guy they brought in.”
“I’m coming too. Someone is going to have to help hold Mic back from killing this guy.” Rook stepped over the mess I’d made and out into the hall.
“Guys, I am so sorry. I’ll clean this up when we get back.” I said, looking at the disaster I’d made of our war room.
“You’ll do no such thing, Mic,” Rosa replied from where she knelt, gathering up broken ceramic and glass. “We’ve got this. I’ll call Beatrice and Jackson too, let them know what’s happening.”
In all the events of the past few hours, I’d completely forgotten about Aunt Beatrice and Jackson. They’d left after about a month-long visit. I think they were in Rome or was it Paris? I couldn’t remember. She was never going to forgive me for not calling her first.
“Bea, it’s okay.” I glanced up at Chris, and somehow he always knew what I was thinking.
“I hope so or else we’re going to have to lock them out because she’s going to be pissed.” I chuckled, the brief moment of happiness easing some of the strain on us all. Walking past Rook who waited in the hall, we all filed out and into the Rover. Driving into town, I felt hollow inside, as if my insides had been scooped out with a giant spoon and thrown away carelessly. I would get my daughter back. There was now no doubt about that. Determined to interrogate the man they held, I let myself imagine and plan all the
things I could do. I am trained in advanced interrogation techniques, I just need access to the bastard, and I’d have him singing like a canary in no time.
Chapter Nine
Mary Grant sat on the bench at the bus terminal; she waited though she didn’t know what for. She didn’t have any money for a bus ride, but the shelter of the bus stop at least got Jennifer out of the wind. All her life, she’d depended on George for everything. Food, shelter, his misguided form of love. She was lost, and unsure and now Jennifer was crying again. She always seemed to cry. Were babies supposed to cry this much? Maybe there was something wrong with her? Was she sick? Mary began to panic, her hands started to shake, and fear soured her empty stomach.
Quickly standing, she shouldered the diaper bag and began to walk, slowly, Jennifer’s cries became less and less, until Mary couldn’t hear her at all anymore. She hummed to herself as she walked, happy that she was able to make Jennifer’s cries finally stop.
“I’m such a good, Mum. Jennifer is calm, and I’m free of George.” Skipping lightly, Mary kept walking long into the night. It was only hours later that she noticed her arms were empty, that the weight she felt on her chest was the oversized purse full of diapers and formula.
I stood at the glass, looking at the face of evil on the other side. “So this is George Grant, huh? I don’t know him. We don’t exactly socialize much.” He had his hands clasped together, resting on the table. They shook uncontrollably. His face was red and pot-marked with old acne scars and a scraggly half grown beard covered his cheeks.
“He states he had no knowledge of his wife’s plan and that he came home and found her sitting there, rocking the baby. We don’t have a positive I.D., but it must be your baby. There have been no other reports of missing babies, and she specifically mentioned taking her from the stroller.”
“Do you believe him?” I was beginning to trust Constable Williams. He seemed like a good officer, and when I forced aside my worry and anger, I realized he was doing an excellent job of following leads and tracking these bastards down.
“Yes. George here is a known drunk. You gained access to his file before we did. You saw what he’s capable of, and he’s not smart enough to kidnap your baby and keep it secret. You can see his face is pretty red there, from where she clocked him one.”
The handprint on his cheek was still visible, yes. “Any chance I can talk to him? I guarantee I can get whatever he knows out of him.”
“Ma’am, I’d love nothing more for you to go in there and beat the piss out of this wanker, but you know I can’t allow that.”
“So now what?” I asked, tucking my hands into the back pocket of my jeans, sorely missing the comfort of my M9 and K-BAR. Joys of living in Scotland, I couldn’t open carry as I did back in the States.
“We will keep him here on ice and search the area surrounding their flat for anyone who saw a woman with a baby.”
I pulled my hands free, clenching them into fists as I stepped closer to the glass. George wiped the back of his hand across his face. His trembling was getting worse. He was an alcoholic desperate for a drink, drowning in his need for the burning fire sliding down his throat and into his gut. Reaching my hands up, I smacked both hands flat against the glass so hard my palms stung.
George jumped, a girlish squeak of fear escaping from his mouth. He recovered and glared at the mirror, no doubt trying to mend his manly image.
“You’re right. This piece of shit didn’t take my daughter. He isn’t smart enough.”
“Bea, let’s go home. We haven’t eaten all day. Let them do their job.” Grabbing my hand, he tried to pull me along behind him and out of the room. I jerked my hand away from him harshly, surprising him and stopping him in his tracks.
“Goddammit! I’m not made of glass! I am not going to break or shatter apart! Stop treating me like I’m a fucking china doll and let me handle this. I know she’s coming home, I can feel it in my gut. I may be a mother, but I’m still Staff Sergeant Michaels, leader of Steel Corps and more than fucking capable of dealing with anything this shit storm throws at me!” Spinning on my heel, I walked away from Chris, leaving him staring open-mouthed after me. I’d let myself forget who I was, what I did, and what I was capable of.
“Jordon! Let’s go! Ian should be here soon. I want to be at the castle when he gets there.” I shouted over my shoulder. I heard his quick steps catching up with me.
“Yes, ma’am!” Falling in beside me, Chris walked with me to the Rover and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Glad to see you’re back, babe.” He looked over at me, grinning like a fool, flashing dimples and his green eyes shining.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just get this bucket home.” I waved him off and looked out the window at the passing scenery. It had gotten dark and rained while we were in the station, lights from passing cars reflected off the wet pavement. My mind drifted, remembering the papers Carter had given us. I was leaning more toward packing up and going home as soon as I got P.J. back. As much as I loved Scotland, it wasn’t home. I missed the mountains, the Jeep trails, even the sticky heat of summer. Plans for the future would have to wait until we got our daughter home. She would come back home. She had to; there was no alternative.
We pulled down our long drive and immediately saw a generic looking sedan sitting at the end.
“Ian must be here,” Chris commented, shutting off the Rover and getting out.
We walked together up to the doors, which opened before we finished climbing the steps. Standing there, was former Navy SEAL, Ian Sawyer. He’d dropped everything and flown across the pond to come and help us find our daughter. We didn’t talk often, but many times over the years we’d helped each other out on various missions. This time, the mission was more critical than any other.
“Ian.” I reached out to shake his hand, which he ignored, pulling me into a tight hug.
“Mic, what the actual fuck happened?” Gripping my shoulders, he pushed me back slightly and surveyed my face carefully.
“We have a lead. Her name is Mary Grant. Let’s get inside, and we’ll tell you everything. How long have you been here?”
“Hey, Jordon.” Ian shook Chris’s hand and pulled him into a back-slapping bro hug.
“Ian. Thanks for coming.” Chris extracted himself and walked ahead of us down the hallway. “You hungry? I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.”
“I could eat, yeah.” Sawyer followed Chris into the kitchen where he and I sat while Chris gathered leftovers from the fridge and made up plates for us.
“So tell me what happened, kid.” He waited patiently for me to speak. No doubt he would sit just like that for as long as it took until I began to talk.
“I took her to the park yesterday afternoon, put her in the stroller and everything. I leaned into the back of the car, to get the diaper bag, but I couldn’t find it. I realized I’d forgotten it and when I turned around, she was gone.” My face felt tight and tears gathered, though I refused to let them fall. I’d cried enough in the past day to last me a lifetime.
“Hey, kid, don’t do that to yourself. It’s not your fault.”
“He’s right, Bea, it’s not. Don’t blame yourself for this.” Chris sat plates of steaming food in front of each of us. It was just then I realized that we were alone.
“Where is everyone else?” I looked around, expecting to see Flynn pop out of somewhere like he tends to do.
“They’re all in bed. Jones greeted me at the door in his fucking underwear and then headed back to his rack. You realize it’s going on 1 a.m. right?”
Checking my watch, I saw he was right. No wonder everyone was in bed. I know the guys had stayed up for almost twenty-four hours straight. “I lost track of time. Fuck, I’m not even sure what day it is.”
“What do you need from me?” Ian asked, taking a huge bite of food and moaning at the taste. Maggie was an excellent cook that was for sure.
“Right now? Nothing. We’re waiting. The cops found Mary’s hu
sband George. That’s where we were, down at the station confirming that we didn’t know the bastard. I’m confident his wife acted alone. This is no terror group or old enemy out for revenge. This is your garden variety crazy person taking advantage of an opportunity.” I explained, relishing my dinner. It had been a long time since I’d eaten and only since I started did I realize how hungry I was.
“Then I say, let’s finish our chow and get some sleep. In the morning we will go over everything and go from there. Sound good?” Sawyer asked.
“Yeah. I’m… exhausted. I know I need to sleep, but I’m afraid to sleep, I might miss something.” Wiping my mouth on a napkin, I pushed my now empty plate away.
“Bea, you’re not going to be good to anyone dead on your feet.” Chris rubbed his hand down my arm to my hand, linking his fingers with mine.
“Alright, let’s go. I’ll set the alarm for six.”
“You got it, kid.” Ian patted Chris on the shoulder and had the balls to ruffle my hair before heading upstairs. I briefly wondered how he knew where to go and what room to use, but decided not to worry about it.
“Come on you, let’s go to bed.” Chris put our plates into the sink and led the way upstairs to our room.
Changing and getting into bed, I snuggled close to Chris’s side, enjoying his warmth and comfort. Exhaustion overtook me, and I fell into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter Ten
Eloise Michelle Wilson shuffled down the street toward the bus stop. Her old bones didn’t move too fast these days, it felt like it took her forever and a day to get anywhere. It was very late, but she didn’t sleep much at night anymore. Old age seems to have reversed her sleep cycle. Her son didn’t much like her going for walks at night, even though she kept telling him that no one was going to bother an old lady.