34

 

 

Gary paced the sidewalk outside of the terminal at the Flagstaff Pulliam Airport. A chilly breeze blew from the nearby mountains and made him stuff the fedora on his head down a little tighter. He stopped and peered at the front entrance.

“Where are you?” he muttered so low that no one could hear him.

A security guard approached him. Her hand rested on the butt of her pistol. “Sir, may I help you?”

Gary pulled out his cred pack and flashed it. “I’m waiting on a contact to arrive.”

The guard’s gaze flicked downward to where Gary’s sidearm rested. She studied the credentials, then Gary’s face. “Official business?”

“You got it, ma’am.”

Liar.

“Carry on, then.” She walked away.

Gary released a slow breath. That was close. He turned away from the guard as he unzipped his leather jacket enough to slip his hand inside. His fingers brushed the tools of his trade for that day: a Taser, cable ties, a gag, and a rolled-up burlap bag. If the guard had asked to search him…He tried not to think of the consequences.

The work phone on his hip buzzed. So did his personal phone.

Gary jumped as if stung by a cattle prod.

He checked the numbers.

TL Jones.

Mary too.

He let both roll to voicemail. For good measure, he powered them down so no one could track him to Flagstaff.

A tall, slender man strolled from the terminal lobby.

Vic.

As if confirming his target, the buzzing began low in his head.

Vic lifted his cell phone to his ear. His yawn shifted to a frown as he listened to something, most likely voice mail.

“Vic,” Gary called.

His best friend lowered it. “Gary, hey. What brings you here?”

Gary joined him. “Important stuff. Walk with me to your car?”

“Of course. I need to get back anyway. Got in later than I thought, you know?”

“I do. C’mon.” Gary took his arm and led him across the street and toward the parking lot where he’d found Vic’s Commander earlier that afternoon.

“What’s the big deal?”

“A break in Liza’s case.”

“Really?” Vic glanced at him. “What happened? Did they find out who phoned in that tip?”

“They found the identities of the guys who stayed at the safe house.” Gary slowed as they approached the Commander. He unzipped his jacket a little. “Dang, it’s getting warm out here.”

“Wait. What’s really going on?”

“I’m not following.”

Vic’s eyes narrowed. “I never told you where we were.”

“I know. TL told me.”

Vic lowered his gaze as he pulled out his keys.

Gary’s hand snaked into his jacket and grabbed the Taser.

“And I never told—”

Gary jabbed the Taser into his friend’s side.

Vic’s body stiffened as thousands of volts surged through it.

Gary released the trigger.

With a low moan, Vic began collapsing.

Gary crowded him against the driver’s door as if they were having a heart-to-heart conversation. He lifted the keys from his paralyzed hand. “Sorry, bro. I had to do it.”

He released the locks and fumbled for the handle. Once he had the back door open, he heaved Vic onto the floor. “I had to do it.”

Noises came from his friend.

Gary secured his hands behind him, gagged him, and yanked the burlap bag over his head. “You may not understand, but I had to.”

Once he shut the door, he climbed into the Commander and started it. On the secret phone, Gary pulled up the text containing the address that Makmoud had sent him.

Perfect.

With the SUV in gear, he eased through the parking lot and onto the access road. He picked up speed and headed toward the ranch.

 

 

“Get them inside.” Makmoud slid from the horse.

His comrades dumped Liza, Skylar, and Fiona onto the ground. Once they cut the ties on their ankles, they hauled them upright, pushed them onto the terrace, and shoved them into the house.

“Anna, come.” Makmoud helped the teenager from the saddle. With his hand gripping her arm, he walked her inside.

In the great room, his comrades had secured Skylar and Liza to chairs.

Fiona squirmed against Ali’s grasp. “Stop! Can’t you tell I’m hurt?”

“And you’ll only hurt yourself further if you keep resisting,” Makmoud dragged over a captain’s chair. “Secure her to that. Bind her broken arm loosely.”

Rasheed wound rope around Fiona’s uninjured wrist, ankles, and chest, thoroughly securing her to the wood. He looped a length around her injured arm near the elbow.

She spat at him.

He laughed before slapping her hard across the face.

Anna cringed and backed against Makmoud as if he could protect her from Fiona’s angst. Beneath his fingers, she began trembling.

“Sit there.” Makmoud shoved her toward Ali, who forced her onto a chair next to Fiona.

“Makmoud.” Jibril’s voice made him turn. His brother stood in the open doorway leading onto the terrace. In Farsi, he continued, “I need to speak with you.”

Makmoud stepped into the fading afternoon light. “What is it?”

Jibril scrubbed his face with a wet rag to remove some of the dust coating it. When he lowered his hands, tears streamed from his eyes as they flushed the particles away. “They got away.”

He coughed and cleared his throat. His deep voice had a gravelly scratch to it as he continued, “They had a trench dug. A big one with a grate over it that was camouflaged. They blew it with charges and almost took us down. We couldn’t cross it in time, and they escaped up the wall.”

“How?”

“They probably had footholds and handholds dug out.” Jibril grimaced as he brushed his clothing. Dust rose from it in a fine cloud.

“Interesting.” Makmoud rubbed his chin.

“We were so close!”

“It’s of no matter.”

“But—”

“It’s of no matter, my brother.” Makmoud gestured toward the great room. “We have enough hostages to have an advantage. Come with me.”

Jibril followed him through the mudroom and into the great room.

“I see.” The tautness in his shoulders relaxed.

Makmoud surveyed the semicircle of four hostages.

Liza and Anna kept their gazes to the floor.

Skylar focused on him. His expression conveyed boredom, as if he were relaxing in a lounge rather than tied to a chair.

Makmoud wouldn’t get anything from the former CIA agent, not without a lot of work, which would take too much time.

“It seems as if your friends had the foresight to escape.” Makmoud chuckled and paced in front of them. “Yet they left the four of you behind.”

“At least they’re gone.” Fiona’s voice reached him.

Makmoud approached her. “Yes, they are. Pity for you. Where did they go, Fiona?”

She looked away.

“I’d like to know where they went. I know you had a contingency plan in place.” He stopped in front of her. “Now where did they go?”

She clamped her jaw shut.

Makmoud grabbed her forearm—right at the break.

Fiona screamed.

Beneath his fingers, the broken bones scraped against one another.

“Stop!”

“Where did they go?” He tightened his grip.

“I. Don’t. Know.” Tears ran down her face as she bit off those words. Tension riddled her body.

“Tell me.” He shifted his hand.

“No!” Another howl emanated from her. She cussed at him, a round of Italian, Spanish, Arabic, and English so vile that even his men looked embarrassed.

They’d get nothing from her.

He released her.

Fiona moaned, and her head hung forward. Her whole body shook, making her chair scrape against the hardwood.

The sound of an engine reached them through the open windows and doors.

“A Jeep comes. A white Commander,” one of the guards reported.

“Gary. Wave him to the back.” Makmoud strode through the mudroom and onto the terrace.

Gary climbed from the SUV, the yellowing rays of the sun hitting his graying blond hair. He opened the back door and hauled Victor to his feet.

The Shadow Box leader struggled. Sounds emanated from him.

Gary pushed him against the side of the vehicle. “Stop struggling, bro. Things will go much better if you do.”

Victor ignored him.

Gary kicked the back of his knees.

With a groan, Victor collapsed.

“Excellent work, Gary. Jibril, take him inside.” He nodded to his brother, who grabbed Victor’s arm.

“I’m done with this.” Gary remained by the driver’s door. “I took a huge risk in coming here.”

“I know you did. And now you get to see the fruits of your labor.” Makmoud smiled and gestured toward the house. “Come with us.”

“I can’t. I’ve got to get back, and—”

“You will come with us, Murdock.” The smile dropped away. Makmoud focused on him and took a step closer.

He wilted under his intense gaze. “I…”

“You have no choice. Come with me, if you will.” Makmoud stepped aside and gestured for his mole to precede him up the steps, onto the terrace, and into the house.

His demeanor strangely calm, Victor now stood in front of the group with the hood still on his head. On either side, Rasheed and Musa kept their rifles trained on him. Jibril stood slightly behind him.

Makmoud ripped the hood from the man’s head and pulled off his gag.

“Vic!” Liza’s gasp said it all.

Makmoud smirked. “Yes, I have Shadow Box’s fearless leader now. Jibril, search him.”

His brother patted him down. “He has only this.”

He handed him a cell phone.

“Tie him to the chair, if you will.” Makmoud toggled it on.

Jibril cut the ties holding his hands.

Victor whipped around and jumped him. He landed a punch that made Jibril grunt.

Musa leaped forward. He grabbed him in a half nelson choke hold and forced him to his knees. Victor bucked, throwing him off balance. Rasheed joined the fray. He popped him across the face with the butt of his rifle.

Stunned, Victor collapsed to the floor.

Musa grabbed him again. He hauled him to his knees and twisted his arm behind his back so that any movement made Victor moan in pain. The leader’s chest heaved. Blood streaked his cheek from the cut the rifle had opened.

Makmoud studied the keypad that had appeared. “What kind of wealth hides behind the code? What is it, Victor?”

Victor clamped his mouth shut.

“I see that you will be less than cooperative. That Special Forces training kicks in, no? You see, Victor, with enough time, I can break anyone.” Makmoud stared down Gary.

The FBI agent lowered his gaze.

“But I have only minutes, not weeks like I did with your best friend. And that means I must take more radical measures.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything.” Victor growled those words between groans of pain.

“Oh, I know you won’t. And neither will your comrades. Even Fiona with her broken arm.” He chuckled as Fiona lifted her tear-stained face. “Liza and Anna? They know nothing. But…”

He stepped to Anna and rested his hand on her head. “That doesn’t mean they can’t help persuade you.”

His gaze remained on Shadow Box’s leader.

Anna whimpered.

Victor tensed against Musa, who jerked on his arm. Victor sank lower to ease the pain.

Perfect.

Makmoud sifted some strands of her hair through his fingers. “She is a beautiful girl, is she not? She looks very much like her mother.”

He lifted her chin.

A tear seeped from the corner of her eye and tricked down her dusty cheek.

“Anna, did you know that in some cultures, you would already be married with a child or perhaps two?”

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

“What’s not to stop me or one of my men from doing taking you as a wife?” He skimmed his fingers down her cheek, then her neck. “Unless you tell me the code, Victor.”

A strangled cry escaped Anna.

With one deft motion of his wrist, Makmoud grabbed the neck of her T-shirt and ripped it.

Anna began sobbing.

“No!” That one word thundered from Victor.

“No? Why should I stop?” Makmoud snagged the torn fabric.

“Don’t hurt her.” Victor’s words came out low, threatening.

“Then tell me the code.”

Musa twisted Victor’s arm again. He grunted.

“Four. One. Eight. Four.” He panted out each word.

Makmoud keyed it in, and the home screen popped up. He chuckled. “I knew you had a soft spot for her. You love her like a daughter, yes?” He scrolled through the contacts. “I see Gary’s name and those of your team. Ah, and one that says Emergency SUV. I imagine that is the vehicle the rest of your team used to escape.”

He pulled up the number, then dialed. He smiled. “We’ll see now, won’t we?”

 

 

Deborah grabbed Gracie and Marie to keep them from getting thrown into the air as the Suburban jounced over the unpaved road on the northern part of the Chavez land.

“He doesn’t answer,” Diana reported. Her voice quavered a little. She clutched the handhold above her as the SUV dove into a huge rut.

Butch muttered as he yanked the steering wheel to avoid a pothole. “This isn’t good.”

Marie clung to her mother and sobbed. Gracie too. Deborah risked a glance in the rear view mirror.

His face tinged red from the dry soil, DJ huddled against Sana as she held on to him to keep him from flying into the cargo area.

Shelly finally hooked her belt. “Slow down, will you?”

“Sorry, Shelly. No can do.” Butch bit off his words.

With a final bounce that rattled Deborah’s teeth, they slid onto State Road 64 and sped away.

“Where are we going?”

“The rez. Vic’s daddy’s family has—”

The phone in Diana’s hand began chiming the theme from “Raiders of Lost Ark.”

“Speak of the devil…” Butch grabbed it from her and pulled to the shoulder of the road. “Vic, hey— Oh? All right.”

He thumbed it and set it on the console.

“I assume this is the rest of Shadow Box, yes?” A man’s voice filled the small space. “With Deborah Fields and her children nonetheless.”

Goose bumps popped up along Deborah’s arms. She shivered and shrank down as if the man stood outside the vehicle.

“With whom am I speaking?” The man’s lightly accented English blared from the speaker.

“Call me Death,” Butch growled.

“Ah, Butch Addison, eh? Your voice cannot be that of my turncoat brother, and I have the other two Shadow Box men with me. You listen to me. I have Fiona, Victor, Skylar, Anna, and Liza as hostages.”

“I want to hear from them.”

“Perhaps you will. My demand is simple. You are to be at the ranch by four in the morning tomorrow. All of you. And if not?”

Suddenly, the sound of Anna’s tears echoed in the quiet space.

Deborah’s heart hammered. “No, please—”

Butch stuck out his hand and shook his head.

“So Deborah Fields is indeed there.” The smirk radiated from Makmoud’s voice. “Anna almost found out what it is like to know a man.”

Deborah’s hand shot to her mouth in a desperate bid to tamp down her moan. She squeezed her eyes closed.

“If you want to keep your daughter safe, Deborah Fields, then you and your other children will be here along with Shadow Box. Good day now.”

The line went dead.

Butch pulled onto the road. The engine roared as they tore down the highway.

Tears poured down Deborah’s face. Her breath came in short gasps.

Before her eyes, images of Anna sprang up. Terrible images of—

“Oh, God, no…”

Her grip tightened on her two youngest daughters.

She trembled. She couldn’t get enough air. Lightheadedness made her world spin.

Gracie’s and Marie’s cries echoed in her ears. Did she hear Anna’s mixed among them?

The SUV slowed.

Outside the windows, the shacks and trailers of a small town appeared amidst sagebrush and tumbleweeds.

Butch turned in to a gas station. “Shelly, Diana, you two take the girls to the restroom. DJ, you and Suleiman go and grab us something for the road and top us off. Okay?”

His words echoed in Deborah’s ears as if she’d fallen into a well.

Slowly, the team climbed from the Suburban. Diana took Gracie’s hand, and Shelly took Marie’s. DJ scrambled after Sana and Suleiman, who snagged the credit card Butch tossed in his direction.

Deborah wept. She leaned forward and put her arms on her knees as sobs wracked her.

“Hey, Deb.” A strong hand rested on her shoulder.

She raised her face. “Butch, we…we have to go back. Let me go—”

“Not going to happen, all right?”

“But Makmoud—”

“Just…listen, okay? Can you take a deep breath?”

“I—I—”

“Deb, please.”

She sucked in a deep breath, held it, and did another one. Her heart slowed from its rocket pace.

Butch fixed her in his dark gaze. “Listen to me. When we received the mission, we were charged with keeping you and your family safe. You were our primary objective. And that’s what we’re going to do. We’re taking you to a house Vic’s extended family has on the Navajo reservation that’s like a getaway place for them. It’s secure enough until we can get the FBI in to take you to safety.”

“But Anna and Liza—”

“Right now, your safety and that of the three children with you are our primary objectives.”

Her heart broke, and more tears began streaming down her face. Nausea rose inside of her, and she tasted bile. She clamped her hands over her mouth.

His grip on her shoulder tightened. “We’re not going to leave this alone. I can promise you on that. Not only do they have your oldest and your sister, but they’ve got comrades of ours. And we leave no man behind.” A wicked grin crossed his face and faded. “We’re going to go in and get them, but we need to regroup and get some protection on you so we can. So no more talk about giving yourself up.”

“I—”

“It’s not going to happen.” Butch peered through the windshield.

Deborah followed his gaze. Diana had come outside from the restrooms with Marie’s hand in hers.

Marie’s wails reached her even over the murmur of the air conditioning. The child raised her arms toward Diana.

The team’s doctor picked her up and held her tightly as she rocked her.

Butch returned his somber gaze to Deborah. “Remember that your kids are feeding off your emotions. If you panic, they’ll panic. Got it?”

She nodded.

“Let’s get you to relative safety and call the feds. Then Suleiman, Diana, Sana, Shelly, and I have some planning to do.”

She sniffled and took several more deep breaths in an effort to reign in her emotions. “O—Okay.”

He smiled and gently chucked her under the chin. “That’s my girl. And remember one thing.”

“What…what’s that?”

“God’s got this under control. This didn’t surprise Him, even if it did us. Got it?”

“I—I think so.”

He reached out, took her hand, and briefly squeezed it. He glanced up as the others returned.

“We’ll get them back.” Butch’s voice rang with steely determination. “That much, I can promise.”