Chapter Fifteen

Allison was tossed to the floor, hands bound behind her back. Although blindfolded, she heard Mitchell struggling. His shouts were muffled as though his mouth was taped shut, like hers. Thank God, they hadn’t been separated. She didn’t know what she would do if they had taken Mitchell away from her.

The ominous click of a knife blade snapping into place triggered a hot-cold rush over Allison’s skin. She couldn’t scream with her mouth taped. This is it, she thought. I’m going to die. Mitchell, too. All my fault. I didn’t protect him.

A hand on her back forced her to her knees and then onto her stomach. Cold metal pressed against her wrist. Her body clenched in a defensive reaction. She sent a silent apology to her sister. Then the blade slit the tape, freeing her wrists.

Allison rolled onto her back, sat up, and lifted her blindfold. The room was dark except for a faint light around the edges of the door. She squinted, searching for Mitchell. Movement to her left told her whoever cut the tape was still in the room. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw a shadow hovering over her nephew. She started to launch at their captor, then paused as she heard the tape sliced, freeing his wrists, too. As the shadow moved away and opened the door, she glimpsed a massive man silhouetted in the door before it closed.

“Wait,” she tried to shout, but the word came out in a muffled bark through her still-taped lips. The only answer was the snick of the lock.

She listened as the footfalls grew distant, then peeled the tape off her mouth. “I’m over here,” she whispered to Mitchell, trying to keep her voice steady. She was scared. Not for herself, but for her nephew.

Mitchell had removed his blindfold, and followed her voice, scrambling to her side. Allison gathered him in a tight hug. He laid his head on her shoulder with a muffled whimper and squeezed back.

After a moment, she leaned away and peeled the corner of tape over his mouth. “Hold still, this will hurt.” She jerked the tape quickly, wincing as she did. “Are you okay?”

“Ouch!” He rubbed his lips. “Yeah. I’m okay. Are you?”

“I’m not hurt.” Even if she was, she wasn’t going to say anything that would frighten Mitchell.

“Where are we?” He twisted his head trying to look under the door.

“I don’t know.” She had attempted to count the turns and identify how long they’d traveled in the van before they stopped and were shepherded into this room, but worry for Mitchell had derailed her effort.

“Why are we here?”

“I don’t know that, either.” For the life of her, she hadn’t been able to figure out why anyone would want to abduct them.

“Will they hurt us?”

“I don’t think so.” Her voice wavered. She didn’t want to scare him. “If they wanted to hurt us they’d have done it by now.”

“Do you think Agent Kane is dead?”

Allison swallowed. It wasn’t fair to give her nephew false hope, but in their situation, they needed all the hope they could get. “I’m sure he’s fine. We need to think positive thoughts for him, okay?” Even though she’d seen him go down when he was shot, it didn’t mean he’d been killed.

“I thought the FBI couldn’t be surprised like that.” Mitchell was probably thinking about how quickly the men invaded the house. The attack had happened fast, like the ambush that had killed Reggie and injured her.

“Surprise attacks happen before anyone can react.”

“I’m scared.” Mitchell grasped her tighter.

“You’ve been very brave, kiddo. I’m proud of you.”

“I don’t feel brave.” He buried his face against her shoulder. “How long will it take Sloan to find us?”

His question surprised her. With all that had happened, she wasn’t sure what to expect from Sloan. Mitchell still had faith in the man, but she had doubts. Sloan’s goodbye kiss had been as bewildering as it was heart-wrenching. She’d hoped it meant he believed in her, but when he forced her to stay behind, that hope turned to bitter disappointment.

With Agent Kane possibly dead or dying, and her and Mitchell missing, everyone, including Sloan, would think she’d shot the agent to escape. She’d make that same assumption if she were in their place. Sloan had no way of knowing what had really happened to them. Their abductor wouldn’t have left a calling card at the FBI house.

“I don’t know when Sloan will come,” she replied. Sloan would search for them, of that she was certain, if for no other reason than to turn her over to the FBI.

She thought back to the abduction. Agent Kane never had a chance when the two men suddenly appeared in the FBI house. They seemed to know exactly what they wanted.

One of the kidnappers shot Agent Kane. The shooter didn’t even look at Kane as he stepped over him and leveled his gun at Allison. “Make a sound, and the boy dies.” He had whispered in her ear as he yanked her hands behind her and wrapped the duct-tape around her wrists. The other man had Mitchell bound and blindfolded before she could react. A proficient hit, by professional assailants.

Why did they want her? And how had they found her?

The trip to Los Angeles had been unscheduled. Only the FBI task force, Sloan, and O’Neal knew she had left Idaho. Even her sister, Caroline, didn’t know where she was. Since Allison couldn’t call the cruise ship, she’d left a handwritten note on the kitchen table, in case Caroline and Ed returned home early.

More and more, it looked like there was an informant or double agent, either at Northstar, or inside the FBI. Everyone was ready to believe she was the hacker—why couldn’t it be someone else in one of the organizations? She’d suspected an inside job from the beginning; now she wished she’d been able to prove it.

Instead, she’d chased in circles, searching for the source of the hack when she should have been looking closer at a motive. What did they want? Why had she and Mitchell been taken? There were too many questions. One thing she knew for certain: there would be no rescue.

Mitchell shivered. She tightened her arms around him and tried to curb her thoughts, so her nephew wouldn’t sense her feelings. She didn’t want to frighten him even more.

“Try to relax.” She stroked hair away from his eyes.

“I can’t.” He tightened his arms around her. “Can’t you find a way to get us out of here?”

She stared at the closed door. Maybe it wasn’t really locked. “Stay here.” She released him and crawled the short distance to the door. She reached up and turned the handle. It didn’t budge. “It’s locked.”

“What about your cell phone?”

The day had been long and tiring, with an emotional roller coaster thrown in for good measure. How else could she have forgotten something so simple? She could text for help.

Patting her pockets, she came up empty. Damn. Then she remembered she’d left the phone in her purse, which was back at the safe house. No, that wasn’t true. She’d seen one of the kidnappers grab it as they were dragged out of the house. “I don’t have it.” She returned to Mitchell, feeling more exhausted than before. “I’m sorry, kiddo.”

“Hey, I know what would work!” He sat up excitedly. “My tablet has wi-fi.”

Of course! If there was service nearby, she could hack the password and get a message to Sloan. “Let me see it.”

Mitchell searched all his pockets. “It’s gone!”

“Gone? You never let it out of your sight.”

“I know, but I was trying to get away when they carried us out. It must have fallen out of my pocket.” He sidled up to her and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry, Aunt Allison. I didn’t mean to lose it.”

She pulled him close. “We’ll get you another one as soon as we’re out of here.”

If we get out of here.” He gave a deep sigh.

“We will. And you need to be ready when the time comes. Why don’t you try to sleep?”

“I don’t think I can.”

She knew exactly what he meant. However, a lot had happened since they’d left Idaho. Kids also had a way of rebounding. She was sure if he just closed his eyes, he would eventually fall asleep. “You have to try. I need you to be rested so we can deal with whatever might happen next.”

“Like an escape?”

“Yes. If we can find a way out.” She gave him a smile even though he couldn’t see it in the dark room.

“Do you think we can? We’re locked in here.”

“I have a hunch we won’t be here for too long.” She didn’t want to offer false hope, but she wanted Mitchell to be ready if they found a chance. “Do you remember some of the escape techniques I taught you?”

“Yeah…sorta. Why?”

She squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t know what will happen, but if we can make a run for it, there’s a good chance you’ll need to be ready if someone tries to grab you. Do you remember how to spin out of a hold?”

“I have to move the opposite way, right?”

“Right.” She was glad she’d taken the time to teach him some martial art techniques when she was home last summer. “What about how to break away if someone grabs you like this?” She wrapped her hand over his wrist.

“That’s easy.” Mitchell gave a little smile. “I just do this.” He rolled his wrist until the narrow part was at her thumb and lifted up as if he was scratching his nose. Her grip broke and Mitchell was free.

“Good for you.” She squeezed his shoulder again. “So we just need a signal in case I can’t be right beside you.”

Mitchell was quiet for a moment. “What if I can’t see you? They blindfolded us before.”

“Good point. What about a word?”

“I know! That word you and Sloan used back at the house. Booshee.”

“You mean Bushido?”

“Yeah. That’s a good word.”

“It is a good word.” Allison smiled and hugged him. “Bushido. You’ll remember, right?”

“I’ll remember. It means honor.”

Allison pulled him close. “I won’t let any thing happen to you. That’s my word of honor. Now, you need some rest. Will you try?”

“Okay…I’ll try.” Mitchell snuggled next to her and closed his eyes. Soon his breathing was slow and even, signaling he had given in to exhaustion.

Allison hoped their plan would help his confidence for whatever they faced next. It wasn’t much, but hope for a chance to escape was better than nothing.

While Mitchell slept, she looked around their prison. Light seeped through the crack under the door. From what she could see, they were in a small, windowless room. Thin carpet covered the floor. No distinct odors helped her identify where they were. Only the faint, fresh scent of a cleaning product. They could be in a walk-in closet or storage room. She shifted so her back was against the wall, easing Mitchell’s head to cradle in her lap. The floor was hard and uncomfortable, but not as painful as the ache in her heart.

Her damn pride and stubbornness had put her nephew in danger. She should have let Sloan fly to L.A. alone. Her job wasn’t worth Mitchell’s life.

If Mitchell hadn’t been with her, she would have tested the strength of the lock. Alone, she could have devised a plan to make the guard open the door. With her self-defense training, she could attack him and make an escape. Put as much distance as possible between her and the kidnapper. But not with her nephew trapped by her side. She had to consider alternatives to keep him safe.

A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She was tired of being strong, of putting on a brave front. It took constant vigilance to keep her emotional wall high, yet Sloan had breached it. Starting small, his influence had worn away at the cracks like a trickle of water, until Allison felt the dam break.

This was the first time she’d let a man get close enough for her to open her heart. And Sloan had betrayed her. It was bad enough he didn’t return her feelings, but then he’d destroyed her trust.

She was alone, now. Mitchell’s life and hers were in the hands of people who would most likely kill them once they got whatever they wanted from her. Tears she’d kept at bay for hours swelled in her throat, spilled down her cheeks, and slipped off her chin. As Mitchell’s head settled onto her lap, Allison stroked his soft hair and prayed for a miracle. Then she swallowed the self-pity and focused on the plan for their escape.

****

The lock on the door clicked. Someone had come for them. Allison swallowed her fear.

Mitchell stirred and sat up. “What—? Aunt Allison?”

“Shh. Stay quiet,” she whispered, wrapping an arm around him. “If they ask questions, let me do the talking. And remember our plan.”

Mitchell rubbed his eyes and nodded.

The door opened. A hulking shadow filled the doorway. “Come with me.” His voice was deep, with a raspy edge.

Knowing this wasn’t the time to push for an advantage, she stood and helped Mitchell to his feet. Taking his hand, they walked out of the little room into a hallway. Another guard stood along the wall, waiting. She glanced around her, and just as she thought, they’d been in a storage closet. It appeared to be the last room along the hallway. The only exit was ahead of them.

They followed the first guard down the corridor as the second guard joined in behind them. Allison counted three doors as they passed. One to the left and two on the right—all closed. Ahead, the room opened into a main foyer and there was the exit. So close. If only she could make a run for it without endangering Mitchell.

“Don’t think about it.” The guard behind her must’ve seen her tense. “I have orders to not injure your fingers, but I can make other places hurt.”

The first guard looked over his shoulder with a frown, then crossed the foyer and opened a set of matching wood doors. “In here.”

In contrast to the little closet where they’d been held, this room was open and spacious. Reflective fluorescents in the ceiling provided subtle lighting. Two flat-screen monitors sat on a large cherry-wood table in the center of the room. Several network servers, secured in a rack, hummed along the far wall. The room was windowless and cold—the only way in or out was through the door she and Mitchell entered with the guards.

Having determined her exit options were non-existent, she turned her attention to the state-of-the-art computer systems. She’d never seen a setup like this. Even Northstar’s top-of-the-line systems didn’t compare. Some of the units looked like prototypes straight from the developer’s drawing board.

“Wow.” Mitchell gave a low whistle.

Allison squeezed his hand in reply and he looked at her, but didn’t say anything more.

“If you like these babies, wait until you see what’s inside.”

A voice drew her attention from the machines to a man leaning against a wall. He was of average height and build, about her age. Average looking in almost every way—except his eyes.

It took a moment, then pieces of the giant jigsaw finally dropped into place.

It was Drew Sullivan. A fellow gamer. And her last disastrous blind date.

He’d questioned her about Northstar, proclaiming her job had to be the best ever for helping people. She’d generously—stupidly—suggested he apply for a job. Was that how the breach made it through Northstar’s firewall? Had he planted something when he applied for the job? If so, how? Security was as tight inside the building as it was out.

“Drew Sullivan.”

“Actually, it’s Drew Getty.” He waited a beat, obviously expecting Allison to recognize his name.

She stared at the same egotistical expression that had intimidated her on their date. The reason why she’d never agreed to a second.

Then they’d met again at the gaming convention where she took first place for her design on the Warrior Code. Drew had taken second with his game on alien battles. He hadn’t looked as arrogant then—just vengeful. At the time, she’d brushed off his reaction as envy. She realized now she’d been wrong to ignore the true emotion behind his stare.

Drew studied her as though analyzing her reaction. Something warned her to remain composed. She stayed quiet, hoping he would find the silence awkward and start talking. She didn’t have to wait long.

“Apparently,” Drew snarled. “My name means nothing to the talented Miss Allison Richards.”

She winced at the distant memory of Sloan using almost those same words. Talented, my foot. Just look at where my talent landed me and Mitchell.

Drew pushed away from the wall and sauntered toward them. “Don’t you want to know why you’re here?”

Allison refused to take the bait. When she didn’t answer, Mitchell looked at her curiously. He obviously took her silence as his cue to stay quiet also.

“Cat got your tongue?” Drew’s eyebrows rose toward his thinning hairline. “Oh well, it won’t be for long. I promise we’ll hear that sweet voice of yours soon.” He turned to one of the guards. “Please get Mother. She wanted to be here for this.”

The guard turned and walked across the room. He spoke briefly to the other guard who’d taken a post outside the door, then came back inside and resumed his position next to the door. His hulking presence precluded any lingering thoughts of escape.

Instead, Allison crossed to the table that held the monitors, keeping Mitchell close by her side. The screensaver, a scene of dolphins playing in the surf, shimmered on both screens. “Nice systems.” She reached out a finger to tap a key. Any movement should stop the screen saver and allow her to see what lay beneath.

Instantly, Drew was next to her, gripping her wrist. “No. No. No. Don’t touch.”

In those few seconds, she gathered valuable tidbits of information. First, for an average-looking individual, he had speed. Second, his strong grip was malicious. He obviously enjoyed inflicting pain.

Allison twisted her wrist and leveraged it against his thumb until he couldn’t hold the grip. He jerked his hand back as if being bitten and glared at her.

She glanced over at the guard. He hadn’t budged. Apparently, the guard didn’t see her as a threat. Another tidbit she filed away. She had no idea if any of this information would provide a possible escape scenario, but it was better than knowing nothing.

She stepped away from the table, still holding Mitchell’s hand.

“Poor Allison.” Drew’s tone belied his words. “These pretty systems are so tempting, aren’t they? You’ll get your turn on them, I promise.”

The door opened and Drew literally snapped to attention. Allison turned to see the other guard enter the room pushing a woman in a wheelchair.

She was a striking woman of indeterminate years. Her red silk pantsuit barely held a crease. As the guard and the woman drew closer, Allison realized the woman was older than she appeared at first glance. Her carefully made-up face and perfectly coiffed blonde hair gave the illusion of youth. The woman’s regal bearing made her appear to be riding a throne.

“May I introduce my mother, Carol Weston.”

Allison frowned. The surname sounded familiar, but with so many questions racing around in her brain, any connection eluded her.

The woman inspected Allison as carefully as Allison studied her. Then, with a blink, Allison was dismissed as some inconsequential object.

“Drew, dear, there is no way this girl is better with computers than you.” Obvious contempt marred her perfectly modulated voice.

“Of course she’s not better, Mother. I never said she was.” Drew’s shoulders seemed to tense. “I told you, she has information I don’t have access to. That’s why we need her.”

Well, that’s one question answered. Her presence apparently involved computers. Then another, more terrifying thought surfaced. Once they didn’t need her, both she and Mitchell would be killed. She remembered what happened to Agent Kane. These people weren’t above committing murder.

“Fine.” Carol Weston waved a contemptuous hand. “Let’s get started. We’re wasting precious time.”

Mrs. Weston nodded toward one of the guards. He moved so quickly Allison didn’t have time to react. In a heartbeat, Mitchell was ripped from her grasp and dragged over to the woman.

“How thoughtful of you to bring this fine young man along.” She grabbed Mitchell’s arm and squeezed. Her knuckles went white from the pressure she applied to his slender arm.

Allison saw pain fill Mitchell’s face, but he didn’t cry out.

“Such a brave little boy, too. Surely you don’t want anything bad to happen to him.”

“Don’t do anything, Aunt Allison. Whatever they do to me, don’t give in,” Mitchell said, then cried out as Mrs. Weston’s nails bit into his flesh.

“Let him go!” She would protect Mitchell at any cost. Whatever they wanted from her wasn’t worth Mitchell’s life. She calculated the chances of them both getting out of this situation alive carried a value of null. She had to prolong the circumstances, increase those odds by finding an opportunity to escape.

In a slightly more meek voice, she said, “Just tell me what you want.”

“There, you see?” Mrs. Weston looked at Drew. “Cooperation.” She eased her grip on Mitchell’s arm but didn’t release him.

“What do you want?” The distance between Allison and Mitchell tore at her heart, and the marks on his arm made her furious.

Drew pulled out a chair in front of the computers. In a gentlemanly fashion, he gestured for Allison to sit.

She hesitated, looking from Drew to Mitchell, still held tightly in the woman’s grasp. Then she sat primly in the chair, defiantly folding her hands in her lap. “I’d like Mitchell next to me.” I have to keep him away from that bitch.

“When we’re finished,” Drew replied.

Allison nodded. She hadn’t expected a different answer, but she had to try. She faced the dual monitors and placed her hands lightly on the keyboard, waiting.

Drew leaned in and moved the mouse. At the slight motion, the screen saver disappeared on the first monitor. She scanned the data, glanced up at him, and then back at the screen. Unbelievable! She almost spoke the thought out loud.

The information on the first monitor answered many of Allison’s questions. This can’t be real.

Allison stared at the lines of text. Every IP address she’d logged into while testing her work, months of trial and error stared back at her. This state-of-the-art computer system had recorded her every keystroke. Had he installed a keylogger on her Northstar systems somehow?

Her vision blurred. A sense of defeat filled her. Her chest felt bitter cold. She finally understood how they had tracked her to the FBI safe house, and how hard it would be to escape.

“You see.” Drew’s triumphant expression was sickening. “You’re not as good as you think.” He pressed another key and a window popped open on the second monitor. This screen displayed lines of code.

Allison scanned the algorithms—she was reading her own work. Drew had used a method identical to hers. When she had broken into the manufacturer’s database to find the addresses of the computer purchases for Sloan, she’d left a trail back to the physical location of the safe house. That’s how Drew found us.

She scanned more lines of code. A chill rode down her spine. Drew Getty had been at least one step ahead of her the entire time.