The man popped the trunk lid and lifted it. He pointed his gun barrel at the dazed agent inside, stopping just inches away from the agent’s face. The fierce looking man, much larger than J.T., stood over the trunk and waved his pistol. “Get out, tough guy.”
J.T. squinted from the glaring ceiling lights thirty feet above then returned his focus to the thug standing a foot away and pointing a pistol at his head. He rolled from his side to his knees. Maneuvering was difficult with his hands cuffed behind his back.
“I said to get out—now! Don’t try anything funny, either, or you’ll get a bullet to the head.”
“Yeah, I’m working on it. It’s kind of awkward without the use of my hands.”
“Figure it out.”
J.T. lifted one leg out, balanced on that foot, then cleared the trunk and bumper with his other leg. He stepped to the ground and stared at the man pointing the gun at him. He smirked at the man’s appearance. “Nice coveralls. You the gardener or the not-so-Jolly Green Giant?”
The man didn’t respond. J.T. jerked his head to his side and discovered that his gun and holster were missing.
The oversized stranger waved the pistol in J.T.’s face. “Look familiar?” His laughter echoed throughout the near empty building. “This is your gun, and it has a completely full magazine.”
“No shit, genius. I was headed to work.”
The man’s laughter quickly soured into a sneer. “You’ll regret your smart mouth in the end, and don’t concern yourself with your ankle holster and gun, either. I have those too.”
“What the hell do you want with me?”
“Shut up and start walking. There’s someone here who wants to have a word with you.”
The man pushed him forward, the barrel of J.T.’s own gun pressed deeply between his shoulder blades.
They reached a large steel garage door in the center of the building. The man stopped, tucked the pistol into his pocket, and pulled on a heavy chain that lifted the door. J.T. took the few precious seconds he had to scan the area and look for anything that could help him figure out where he was being held. He caught a glimpse of another huge man in the distance with his arms folded over his enormous chest, standing silently—like the typical hired muscle—next to an outer door. That man also wore a pair of green coveralls.
J.T. dismissed him and visually swept the room in a side-to-side fashion, trying to memorize everything he saw. The only thing he could tell for sure was that he was in an abandoned warehouse. Empty shelving units lined the outer walls three stories high, and broken window glass lay on the cracked cement floor with rocks nearby. Pallets stacked twenty feet high appeared as if they were about to tip over, and rickety metal stairs with broken handrails led to second-floor rooms that might have been offices years back.
As the overhead door inched up, something caught J.T.’s eye in the room on the other side. His heart began to race. “You son of a bitch! What did you do with her? Where’s my sister?”
A voice from the back of the room spoke up. J.T. jerked his head in that direction but saw nobody.
“We’ll discuss your sister later, Agent Harper. Right now, Anthony is going to escort you to a holding area that I’m sure you’ll find to your liking.”
“Who are you, and what do you want? Show your face, you coward!”
The room fell silent.
“Move it, Fed.” Anthony gave J.T. a hard shove forward.
J.T. deliberately stumbled alongside the car’s window, buying him a few seconds of precious time. He peered in, hoping to see a clue Julie had left behind, but her car was as immaculate as always. No purse, phone, or his sister lay inside. He sucked in a deep breath, thankful there weren’t any visible signs of a struggle or blood within the car. Fifty feet farther into that second room stood a floor-to-ceiling holding area constructed of chain-link fencing. The makeshift prison cell was divided into two rooms, each with its own entry. The second side stood empty for now. Anthony pushed J.T. through the first open door and slammed the gate behind him. He snapped a heavy padlock over the latch and secured the door. He backed away from J.T.’s confinement, crossed through the garage door opening, and disappeared from sight.
“Where are you going? What’s this about?” J.T. yelled as he kicked the fence.
“I need information, Agent Harper, but there’s always a chance to exact revenge too. Everything going forward depends on your level of cooperation.”
That voice had returned. The man hiding from view spoke up from the shadows somewhere at the back of the room. J.T. spun. His eyes darted back and forth, but he saw no one.
“Revenge? Revenge for what? I have no idea who you are or what you want, and why is my sister involved in something I might have done?”
“She isn’t involved, but she could become a necessary tool I’d use to get information from you. For now, we’ll call her leverage, but there is somebody else here you might enjoy getting reacquainted with. I don’t believe you’ve worked with Agent Belmont lately.”
J.T. heard footsteps heading in his direction. He looked across the room and saw Anthony reappear through the overhead door, this time escorted by that second man. They dragged a badly beaten and unconscious man by his wrists and headed toward J.T.