Hard to Kill: a Hard Targets novel Page 6
His long legs stretched out in front of him, his hands behind his head while he tipped the chair against the wall. His eyelids were closed, masking those deep brown, calculating eyes—the ones that seemed to take everything in and then file that information inside his brain in a folder labeled "for future use."
Memories of him ministering to her needs floated about her head. Cold towels placed upon her face, tepid water cleansing her hair, his soft hands massaging away the clumps of dirt and blood as he whispered assurances that Liz had made it out safe and sound.
Was it a dream?
Vaguely she recalled his interference with Marco yesterday, or maybe the day before. She wasn't all that certain how long she'd been out of it.
Don't expect and you won't be disappointed. But she still had to wonder why.
In her experience, nobody did anything without an angle, so what was his? Was he a soft touch? Did he intend to take her up on her offer? Or did he have an agenda of his own?
She couldn't remember how long it had been since she'd eaten. Her stomach had stopped growling several days ago.
Shifting first to her elbow, then to an upright position, she closed her eyes and waited a few moments until the room stopped spinning. When she opened them again, he stood in front of her, his hand inches away.
She had to admit, the guy was good. He moved like a cat.
"You need to use the bathroom?" he asked.
She nodded, although the effort cost her. "Alone," she managed to croak.
Something resembling a chuckle escaped his lips before he helped her to her feet. In a different room than the last time she'd been in this dungeon of a basement, the rudimentary bathroom was identical. Dirt covered the floor and cobwebs littered the corner. There was a mirror over a sink stained with rust. After attending to necessities, she examined her reflection.
Sabrina touched her cheekbone and poked at the large red welt covering the right side of her face. When she did so, she once again experienced Marco's slap.
Don't get mad. Get even. Petrovich's mantra tumbled through her brain.
But find Caitlyn first.
Shaky, she held on to the sink for support,while she searched the waistband of her skirt for the paperclip she'd managed to grab from Marco's desk. She allowed a satisfied smile to cross her face before burying the clip once again. After inserting her hand into the hole in the door where the doorknob should be, she hobbled toward the cot.
"You hungry?" Evan asked.
"Starved." There was something in the way he looked at her that was different from the others, even if she couldn't quite quantify the difference.
"I've got coffee, and some bread." He shrugged, offering up no further explanation.
"I'll take it." She needed nourishment if she expected to last. As it was, the nauseous roll in her stomach signaled she was a hair's breadth away from passing out again. "But you take a sip first to make sure."
A smile eased up the corner of his lips before he brought the edges of the cup to his lip and took a sip. He winced.
"Strong. A shot of caffeine mainlined right to the bloodstream," he responded, a grin spreading across his face.
He handed her a tin plate filled with chunks of bread and an apple, which she promptly wolfed down. Although she kept her eyes averted, she sensed his watchful presence.
"What happens next?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Marco's in charge. You'll have to ask him."
"Really?" She let that one word hang in the air for a few minutes to see how he might respond.
"What do you mean?" His eyebrows rose, conveying a façade of innocence.
"Somebody else is pulling Marco's strings." She was poking around to see if he'd bite.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"We'll forget that for now." She bit out a cynical laugh. "Answer me one question then: why?"
"Hmmm?" While he said that one word as a question, his eyes seemed more cautious than normal.
"Don't play dumb. Why didn't you go after me when you had the chance? Were you going to let me go?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." His face remained impassive.
"You were a block away from me and stood there. What's your angle?"
He shook his head. "Whoever you saw, it wasn't me." The only sign he was the least bit uncomfortable was his refusal to look her in the eye before he clamped the handcuffs onto her wrists.
"So that's how you're going to play it?" She drew in a deep breath while her mind raced with possibilities. Maybe Marco had a camera hidden in the room. She searched the corners of the room. "You were there right before Marco grabbed me. For some reason, you didn't make a move. I want to know why."
"I didn't come around until after Marco subdued you."
"Whatever." Doubt rattled around inside as she questioned her memories. With the drugs she'd been given, anything was possible. "You did stop Marco from killing me."
She needed that bit of reassurance she hadn't lost her mind. Sabrina needed to know she was right about at least one thing, and it wasn't her imagination or some drug-induced hallucination.
He nodded in affirmation. "We need you healthy. It's all about business."
"Bull." She let her denial hang in the air even while he eyed her without saying a word. This guy had such a great poker face he could make millions playing cards in Vegas.
"I'll let Marco know you've come around." Rubbing his thumb across his bottom lip, he left, closing then locking the door behind him.
Despite what he might say, Evan had interfered on her behalf with Marco the other day. Now she needed to know why.
* * *
"What was that about?" An enraged Marco confronted Kane as soon as he got upstairs.
Given the depths of Marco's paranoia, Kane knew most rooms were wired for sound. Instead of denying the accusation, which would only increase Marco's insistence, he avoided his question for the time being. "She's awake."
"What did she mean by you let her get away?" He grasped Kane by the shirt and tugged.
With Marco's normal paranoia, what went down in Langford, and his suspiciousness about Kane's behavior, Kane's days here were numbered. He'd willingly oblige and get out of Dodge once he figured how to get Grace out at the same time.
"The girl's been on heavy-duty drugs for a couple of days. You know that stuff makes people hallucinate." Kane threw out a pat answer but knew it wouldn't suffice.
"But you went missing for a long time." Still flush from anger, Marco folded his arms across his chest.
"I got a car to go looking for them. Nothing sinister involved."
"Maybe you thought about letting her go so you could keep her for yourself."
Kane shook his head. "I told you before, I want nothing to do with this woman. If you don't trust me, you should let me go, because I'm not going to be scrutinized for every step I make." He let his voice go louder with each word he spoke and hoped Marco didn't call him on his bluff. At least not until he could figure out a way to get Grace out of there without jeopardizing his investigation.
It might be time for him to investigate those underground tunnels beneath the house he'd heard about a couple of days ago. Rumor had it they were installed prior to WWII and used as a means of escape on many occasions. He knew there was an entrance behind the bookcase in Marco's office.
Marco eyed him with a suspicious glare. "I changed my mind and called the local police and told them Grace had gone crazy on our ride home. That she'd killed Arte and escaped before I could deliver her back to the gypsy camp." He smirked. "I figured I should cover my bases in case she gets away from us with or without help. I even put up a substantial reward for her capture. Brilliant, if I do say so myself. No doubt every person within a hundred miles is scouring the countryside trying to find her. One thing you'll learn about me, Evan, is to never cross me. I have a lot of power on my own without Trinity."
Kane figured the situation had just gone from bad to worse.
* * *
While she didn't know much about the layout of the house, it couldn't be all that difficult to find his office. After ten minutes of working on the lock, she'd made some progress but it was taking longer than usual.
Patience, along with skill, was crucial in getting the tiny tumblers to cooperate, even if the tip of the clip was too large for her purposes. The first satisfying clink made her pulse speed up. The urgency factor tripled within her chest. Time was of the essence.
Once she got free, securing a weapon was her number one priority. The kitchen had the display of knives that would come in handy, but a couple of guys with guns would mow her down in record time. Knives were silent killers, which made them more lethal if the opportunity presented itself. She'd choose a knife over a holstered gun any day of the week.
Given the awkward constraints, her arm felt numb, while her fingers focused on the process. As another tumbler clinked into place, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. It was the middle of the night; couldn't their never-ending policing tactics wait?
She sucked in a breath to settle her nerves and thought about ways to utilize this impromptu visit to her advantage. Maybe if the guard got close enough she could wrap the chain around his neck and secure the key. She slumped to the mattress, pretended she was asleep, and hoped the opportunity would present itself. This might very well be the break she was looking for.
His knees creaked when he bent closer to the bed. The wash of fresh soap assaulted her nose as he got closer.
Evan. He was the only one of the guards who showered on a regular basis.
Shame. She kind of liked him. Well, as much as she could considering the circumstances. She drew in a calming breath and fisted her hands in preparation.
One. Two. Three.
She struck, hoping luck would be on her side and she'd be able to get the length of chain around his neck. Instead he brought her hands up over her head and whispered in her ear, "Don't say a word. Listening device."
With one hand tethering her two, he reached beneath the mattress and gave a yank. Then stood and crushed the receiver with the heel of his boot. While he was distracted, she clenched her hands and took a swing in his direction.
He stopped her hand and held tight. "I'm here to help you, not hurt you." Without another word, he handed her a pair of camouflage pants and matching long-sleeve t-shirt. "It was the smallest size I could find."
Despite the lack of light, with his face so close, she spotted fear in Evan's eyes, combined with a sense of urgency reflected in his furtive movements. Her scalp prickled. Something had happened or was about to happen. And it wasn't good.
Sabrina pulled at the handcuff while he worked the lock with his key. If he'd noticed any of her tampering, he didn't mention it.
"Who are you?" If things were going south, why would his first stop be her?
"I'm working undercover for the FBI. My real name is Kane Travis."
"What?" Even as she asked, the question pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place.
"I overheard Marco. You're getting picked up first thing in the morning. He's selling you to a guy who makes Attila the Hun look like Mother Teresa." He swore softly. "I had hoped to have more time, but he found out I lied to him about G and thinks I went AWOL. He's got guys out there looking for me as we speak. But I need to get you out of here."
She gulped, the fear crawling up her throat threatening to choke her. "I have to get into Marco's computer first."
He perched his butt on the floor and stared at her. "Why?"
She swallowed hard. "I need information. I can't leave without it. I need to know where the girls go."
Kane shook his head. "Marco is too paranoid to keep that kind of sensitive information on his computer. He keeps all of his client transactions on a thumb drive he has attached to his wrist."
"I'll cut his arm off if I have to. I need that information." Trusting people hadn't been part of her nature for a very long time. She wasn't about to start now. She didn't much care if he was part of the alphabet soup of US government agencies.
"I know you'd put up a fight. But it's not possible. At least not now. Especially with his back against the wall."
"What happens to the girls who leave?" She knew the answer to the question but needed some time to process the recent turn of events.
"I'm still trying to figure that out. But I've got to assume the worst."
A shiver wormed along her spine as she pictured Caitlyn alone and powerless and at the whim of some sick bastard. "Why should I trust you? This could be a trap."
He sighed. "Put those clothes on. Anything is better than what you're wearing for what we're going to need to do. I also have a pair of boots for you."
He turned his back while she dressed. She appreciated the gesture, despite the fact he'd seen everything she had on more than one occasion. In fact, he'd been more intimate with her than most lovers she'd had.
Sabrina shook her head, not liking the direction this was headed. Everything he said made sense, but she didn't want to go anywhere without figuring out where Caitlyn had been sent. "If it's all the same to you, I'll make this escape on my own."
He grasped her wrist. "Your chances of getting out are less than zero." He stopped her protest with a finger to her lips. "I know you work for The Alliance and you have mad skills, but this isn't my first rodeo, and believe me when I say now is not the time. Our best bet is the underground tunnels."
Underground tunnels sounded suspiciously like a get-out-of-jail-free card. Even though it went against her grain to go along with someone else's plan. Having him lead her to freedom sounded like a mighty good proposition for the time being. Besides, after getting some firepower, it would a great way for her to return and retrieve the information she needed.
But still something didn't ring true. "Why would you risk your life to escape with me? If Marco's going to dog my every move when I get out of here, he'll do the same with you. So what gives?"
He blew out a breath. "I set it up so he believes I stole one of the cars. All the roads out of here will be swarming with Marco's men. That's why we're going through the tunnels. He doesn't think I know about them." He reached to his back and pulled out two guns. He held out his hands, each containing one. "Are you okay with a Glock?"
"I can hold my own."
"I bet you can."
He ushered her out the door and past the body of Petre. Evan dragged him inside before he shut the door firmly in place.
She grabbed the Glock and followed. He led the way, maneuvering through the dark hallways with his gun drawn. When they passed through the kitchen she had a nearly irresistible urge to snag a knife out of the block, but resisted.
"Who's pulling Marco's strings?" she asked. "I know he's not bright enough to orchestrate this on his own."
"The guy I mentioned earlier. They call him Trinity. But I'm no closer to finding out who he is than I was six months ago."
She was uncertain whether to believe him or not, but in the end, it didn't matter. He was her ticket out of here. And right now, "out of here" was one step closer to finding Caitlyn.
After twisting through a series of darkened hallways, they went up some steps and into the main area of the house. While dark, she could tell by his calculated movements that he anticipated trouble around every corner.
He used a pin trigger to unlock a door. Leading with his gun, he eased inside, pulling her behind him. She looked around at the bookcases and immediately began to rifle
through the drawers of the desk.
"What are you doing?"
"There might be something in here."
"I already checked. Even the file cabinets have nothing but office supplies—reams of paper, pens, paperclips."
She blew out a breath. "You sure?"
"Yep. We've got to get going. Rounds will be back this way in less than ten minutes."
Reluctantly, she stood behind him while he moved a picture, uncovering a series of buttons.
"This is when it gets a little tricky," he whispered. He clipped a device to the keypad, and after a series of beeps, he punched in the code displayed. The bookcase shifted open, revealing a passageway. "Try not to use your gun inside the tunnel. If you miss, the bullet will ricochet."
She grabbed at his shirt, pulling him close. "Don't assume I'll miss."
"If you do, it might very well bounce back and hit you in the ass. Or worse, in mine."
"I'll keep that in mind."
It took her pupils at least twenty seconds to adjust to the dark inside the tunnel. The walls and ceilings were within touching distance, making it feel even more claustrophobic. He reached inside his back pocket and pulled out a folded-up piece of paper and a small flashlight.
"A map?" She shook her head and laughed. "You really don't know your way out."
"Nope. But I did know where to find the map." He pointed to a spot on the map. "Some of these lead to dead ends, some circle around underneath the mountain. One, maybe two, will get us out of here."
"Are there guards down here?"
"More than I care to think about. But the good news is, most of them are out looking for me right now." He grasped at her arm. "I estimate maybe twenty or so might be milling about down here." His glanced shifted, taking in the scene before them. "We need to be careful."
"I'm all about being careful." And losing this so-called partner as soon as possible.
For the most part they both stayed close to the slime-covered walls as they inched their way through the maze. Sabrina didn't want to think about all the critters and rodents residing peacefully in this dark home. Give her a trained assassin and fear didn't even come into the picture. Put her in a room full of creepy crawling things and she was a hot mess. Instead, she focused on getting out of there as quickly as possible.