Chapter Thirty-One
Abigail went into the room where she was holding Hope. Had she moved? Probably. The little snot was always up to something.
She didn’t trust the girl. In some ways, Hope reminded Abigail of herself. And that’s why she was keeping her tied up so much.
Her partner had texted her about Agent Kessler’s plan. The agent coming in had no idea that she knew.
What should she do with the girl? She already knew what she was going to do to the agent who was going to try to pose as Eric
Torres. That was simple. He’d be wired somehow, but that didn’t matter. There’d be no time for a code word on his end or the
SWAT or HRT or whoever they had up here to respond. He’d be dead before he could say anything.
But Abigail figured he was a distraction. They probably had blueprints of this building. That’s what she’d do. Then, while
she was busy killing an FBI agent, someone would come in here and steal her bargaining chip. No, that wasn’t going to happen.
Abigail went over, opened a knife and cut Hope’s bindings on her wrists and legs.
“Get up. You’re coming with me,” Abigail said.
The little snot had a weird look on her face.
After a long career in law enforcement, Abigail knew when someone was up to something.
And this girl was. Hope stood, staring at Abigail defiantly.
They took a few steps forward. Abigail had Hope in front of her.
Just as she was thinking that she should have kept Hope bound at least by her wrists, the girl turned around.
A sharp pain exploded through Abigail’s arm. It took her a second to put things together. Blood trickled onto the floor. The
wound hurt, but was by no means bad. Hope had no skills with a sharp object. But Abigail did.
Hope slashed at her again before turning and trying to sprint away. Abigail reached out, grabbing the girl by her long hair
and yanking. Hard. Hope cried out in pain and the sharp object flew from her hand. A box cutter. Where the hell did she get
that? And how? Abigail had to give the kid credit—she was persistent.
But she was also no match against a trained officer who had arrested many criminals and had almost every nasty move thrown
at her. Blood flowed down her arm onto her hand. That would make things slick, so Abigail grabbed Hope by the other arm, twisting
it around.
Hope tried to gouge at her eyes and step on her feet, but the girl was much smaller than Abigail. She kept Hope in a wrist
lock, pushed her over to the table and slammed her head down. For a moment, Abigail thought Hope was going to try to continue
to fight her, but then she stopped. Had she knocked her out?
No. Abigail saw Hope glaring at her. Again, she had to give the kid credit. She was scared, but she was fighting. “Here’s the deal. You’re going to behave. Got it?”
There was no answer, so Abigail twisted Hope’s arm harder, making it hurt. She knew enough moves and pressure points to make
the kid beg for mercy, but finally she felt the girl nod. “Good. You’re coming with me and if you try anything else, I really
will kill you.”
Hope glared at her, but this time, Abigail could see the change in her body language and face. She was back to being scared
and Abigail had the upper hand.
Abigail pulled out some plastic ties and locked Hope’s hands together. She made sure they were tight and hopefully bit into
the kid’s skin. Again, this girl was tougher than she thought because Hope didn’t make any noise from the pain. She’d arrested
hardcore criminals who’d let out whimpers when she tightened the ties down. Abigail had to remember; she was Eric’s granddaughter.
He was strong too. So was Maya Thompson. But at the end of the day, Abigail knew she’d outlast them and win—one way or another.
Abigail found some paper towels and cleaned up the wound. She probably needed stitches, but right now, that wasn’t going to
happen. There was a first aid kit and she was able to get a thick gauze and tape to wrap it up.
“Now,” she said, pushing Hope in front of her. Were those tears? Good, maybe she was finally breaking the kid down. “It’s
time to get going. Walk and go to the right.”
Hope followed her instructions and as they went down the hallway, Abigail thought about what her partner had told her.
There were two levels to the visitor center with the second level being offices.
She wanted to be on the upper level. The front doors were on the first floor where the stupid agent posing as Eric Torres was coming in.
If she was up high, she had the upper hand and a better shot.
All she had was the Glock. A long gun would have been better. But she was a good shooter and she’d make adjustments for the
trajectory of the bullet. She could hear sniffles coming from Hope. Good.
They got to the bottom of the stairs and Abigail gave Hope a push on the back. “Get going.”
“What if I don’t?”
The girl was trying to sound tough, but her voice gave her away. So did the trembling of her body. “Then you’ll regret it.
Believe me?”
Abigail thought she was going to have to prove her point, but then Hope nodded and started up the stairs. Good thing she was
small. If she were bigger, Hope might be able to push back into Abigail and knock them back down the steps.
They went to an office and Abigail pulled up the blind. It was a perfect angle. She’d researched the location when her partner
texted her. That’s probably when this stupid, or maybe not so stupid, kid found the box cutter. Abigail was lucky. She could
have been severely injured.
Abigail dragged a chair over to a corner where she could see the front entrance. There was a shadow outside. Then the doors opened and the man walked in. Damn. He really did look like Eric. If she hadn’t had someone warning her, she might have fallen for the trap.
The kid didn’t know that, though. Abigail decided to have a little fun and mess with Hope’s mind. “You know your grandfather,
Eric?”
As the saying went, if looks could kill, then Abigail would be dead. Hope glared at her.
“Well, do you?”
“I’ve met him a few times,” Hope finally answered. Her voice was strong, but her body language gave away that she was terrified.
“You like him?”
Hope shrugged. “I guess. He was nice.”
“Too bad you like him.” Abigail left it open for Hope to ask more. She didn’t, so Abigail continued. “He’s going to die today.”
“What?”
There was the reaction she wanted. “Yep. He came to save you. Bad choice.”
Abigail heard the doors open and the sound of footsteps. She grabbed Hope and forced her to her feet, making her look out
the window. “See? There he is.”
Hope let out some sort of squeak.
Abigail didn’t know what that meant, but then she pulled out her gun. “Now you get to watch him die.”