Margo sat quietly in the wingchair as ordered. Whit never said a word and she didn’t either. She didn’t know what was going on in his head but she was savvy enough to know he was a man on the edge. She would do nothing to challenge him. He had a gun pointed at her. She would just wait it out until an opportunity to escape presented itself, although she was doubtful it would. Whit would shoot to kill if she made a move.
Knowing her devoted staff, she assumed Jason had been tracking her every move since she had left Chicago. But now with her phone disabled they wouldn’t know where she was. They would think she was heading to Charleston as she had planned.
She was on her own here. She didn’t understand what part Whit had played in the Marcus situation, but she knew he wasn’t the hero she had been led to believe he was. She now knew that her life and Jack’s depended on the outcome of this day. The prospects were not good.
The driving time from Charleston to Virginia was usually eight hours. Jack made it in six.
He dropped Marcus at a small private clinic known for its excellent care and complete discretion. Jack had made some calls and Marcus was now being protected by colleagues who understood what he’d been through and who it was that had betrayed him. No one would get to Marcus ever again, except for his family who were on their way to his side.
The story Marcus had told on the drive was hard to believe, but Jack knew every word was true. On the mission Marcus had walked into a trap set by Robert Whitbred, their friend and mentor.
Marcus couldn’t remember a lot of what happened after the grenade exploded. It was days before he awakened half dead and in a house in a dusty village. It was months before he was nursed back to a semblance of health by the two brothers who found him in the street and thought he might be an investment opportunity.
Marcus had known all along he was being kept alive to be sold to the highest bidder. However, he had managed to convince the brothers it would be better to do business with someone who had the right contacts to sell him back to his own country.
Marcus had told them that Jack was the only man who could pull that off. And Jack hadn’t disappointed him. Jack had had the foresight to distrust his captors. The men left dead in the parking lot in South Carolina had never intended to let Marcus go free or Jack either.
In the house in Vienna, Virginia, the hours ticked slowly away. Whit came and went from the kitchen, occasionally bringing food and water for them. Although it nearly caused her to gag, Margo ate whatever he ate. She knew she needed to provide nourishment for the baby. And if Whit was eating it, she was certain it wasn’t laced with knockout drops or worse.
Whit seemed to be moving deeper and deeper into his dark private thoughts. Margo had always relied on instinct and hers was now telling her the time had come to make a move.
‘Mr Whitbred,’ she said carefully. ‘I’m a little confused. I thought you were Jack’s friend.’
‘Jack was like a son to me. So was Marcus.’ Whit seemed to be talking to himself, not to Margo. ‘I mourned for him every day since he was killed.’
‘But now that we know Marcus is alive, maybe we should think about going to Charleston, attempt to find him.’
‘There’s no need for that,’ Whit said calmly. ‘As soon as Jack has completed his business in Charleston, he will be coming here.’
‘You can’t know that for sure.’
‘Yes. I know without a doubt that he will be coming.’