Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Present day, Seattle...
Damn. She was leaving a bloody trail. Drops along the concrete that were as good as any GPS tracking system. Because it was a clear path straight to her.
Ellis Baker stumbled against the door frame, bracing her weight as she scanned the area.
A black Suburban was parked off to her right.
Heavily tinted. No license plates. Not that she expected any.
Something she could use to trace back to them.
Even if they hadn’t believed she’d escape, they would have planned for everything. It was simple protocol.
Just like taking her shoes—hell, most of her clothes.
It made her vulnerable. Kept her guessing if this was the time they’d resort to raping her.
That they wouldn’t stop at only sliding her bra strap off her arm, or tracing the line of her underwear.
That they’d act on the dark threat in their eyes, the unforgiving grip of their hands.
It screwed with her mind. Kept her off-kilter.
Made her curl in on herself as a means of self-preservation.
A defensive mechanism they’d obviously hoped would make her talk.
Not that any of the questions had made sense.
In fact, it was mostly the same ones repeated over and over until she couldn’t think straight.
Couldn’t do anything other than push past the pain.
The fear she didn’t want to admit she felt.
Do her best to keep her senses alert. Primed.
She had a feeling they’d eventually make a mistake—let down their guard. And that’s when she’d strike.
Ellis didn’t know how long she’d been in there.
Tied. Beaten. Drugged just enough to keep her complacent.
Everything had blurred together—a massive wash of dull colors amidst deep shadows.
Until today. There had been a distinct change—a new urgency in their voices.
In the way they handled her. She’d known her time was running out.
Slowly counting down until everything stopped.
Death. That was the only way this would end. The only way it could end. She’d realized that the moment she’d woken bound to the chair, two beefy guys dressed in black standing in front of her. No masks. No attempt to hide their identity. Which could only mean they’d planned on eliminating her.
When she’d deduced the end had come—that they were done playing, she’d changed tactics. Had tried to buy more time. An extremely hard feat when she didn’t have the answers they obviously wanted. Didn’t know why she’d been grabbed.
True, she was an operative, but she hadn’t been abducted by foreigners.
The kind of people she’d anticipated—that wanted payback.
The ones she’d been prepared for. The reason she was constantly looking over her shoulder.
Why she didn’t have any ties—people she cared about. Who could be used against her.
Not that she had any of those left. Her boss had burned every bridge she’d ever made before she’d even agreed to sign up. A way of ensuring her acceptance into the program. Though, she’d be lying if she said it hadn’t stung at how easily her friends and family had faded from her life.
How easily he’d faded.
Civilians had an excuse of sorts. They didn’t suspect subterfuge around every corner, behind communiques that didn’t quite make sense.
But he’d been different. Delta Force. Spec Ops.
Out of everyone in her life—the few people who’d really mattered—she’d thought he’d be the one to question the lies.
The excuses. That after all they’d shared, the life they’d mapped out together, he’d be determined to hunt her down—demand to know the truth. Have her end it face-to-face.
In retrospect, she’d been hoping he’d save her.
But he hadn’t. Had vanished along with her hopes and dreams until she wasn’t sure she even knew what the truth was, anymore.
Knew who she was, anymore. Not after spending five years constantly pretending to be someone else.
A covert force fighting the war against terrorism from the inside out.
Someone dedicated to keeping the front lines safe—preventing them from dying from their own weapons turned against them.
Which made this abduction even stranger.
The men who’d grabbed her—kept her tied to that damn chair and used pain and psychological terror as motivators—weren’t just American, they were operatives, like her.
People she should have been able to trust. Could have partnered with.
Guys she was sure she remembered seeing before but couldn’t place, right now.
Not with her thoughts so scattered. Muddied from the pain.
From the drugs. From constantly searching for any kind of weakness she could capitalize on.
Maybe later, when she had time to reflect, she’d remember where she’d seen them. How she knew them.
If she lived through the night.
She snorted. Damn straight she would. Assholes had picked the wrong woman to underestimate.
Hadn’t they read her file? Knew what she’d endured over the past few years?
Maybe, then, that asshole wouldn’t have let down his guard.
Untied her feet while his partner was off taking a leak.
Thinking he’d get in a bit of fun before putting a bullet between her eyes.
He hadn’t seen it coming. Hadn’t considered she’d have the strength, the will to fight back.
Bastard had learned the hard way. Was the reason she’d gotten this far.
Of course, she hadn’t done much more than make her way to the exit.
Nowhere close to free. But, it was a start.
And this was one mission she wasn’t going to fail.
Ellis lifted the keys she’d confiscated from that asshole.
The one she’d strangled with her legs. Whose head she’d slammed into the floor while he was gasping for air—lips turning blue.
No car keys, but they’d gotten her out of the handcuffs—the set of locked doors.
And she’d used the edge to tear the arms from the shirt she’d stolen off the bastard’s back—that thankfully hung down to her thighs.
The strips she’d wrapped around her feet.
Not nearly as protective as shoes, but it would enable her to move faster—run along the streets without cutting herself on any stray piece of glass.
She’d already lost a fair amount of blood—was still bleeding.
She couldn’t afford to injure herself further.
She looked at the car but knew she couldn’t risk hot wiring it.
That there was a strong possibility they could track it.
Had some kind of locating system installed for this kind of situation.
Instead, she took off running, ignoring the burning pain through her side.
The bastard’s partner had clipped her with a lucky shot when he’d returned to find her struggling with the cuffs as she’d made for the door.
His colleague splayed out across the floor, the man’s pants twisted around his knees.
Bare ass to the sky. His shirt clasped in Ellis’ hands.
She’d successfully locked asshole number two in one of the rooms inside the warehouse.
Though, she didn’t know how long the steel door would hold him—or if there were other ways out.
If he had another set of keys she didn’t know about.
How fast his backup would arrive, because he’d definitely be calling in more men.
If she’d been quicker, she could have grabbed the jerk’s handgun.
Having a weapon would have been nice. Given her an edge—a concrete form of defense.
But, she hadn’t been fit to fight more than she already had.
Downing the one guy had taken most of her remaining strength—had left her feeling lightheaded—which meant she’d take what she had and find a way to make it work.
Get somewhere safe. If such a place existed.
Ellis headed for the next warehouse, rounding the side, then ducking down the small alleyway between buildings.
She kept her muscles primed—ready for someone to jump out at her at any given moment.
Arriving at the corner unchallenged was a nice surprise.
Especially when surprises usually involved someone ambushing her—trying to kill her.
She studied the area. Rows of more warehouses stretched out to either side, a lone road crossing the water the only exit she could see—other than the water, itself, which was definitely a last resort.
In her present condition, she wouldn’t last more than a few minutes in the freezing temperature before succumbing to the side effects of cold water immersion.
Still, if it was between swimming or getting caught…
There were bound to be cameras, but she didn’t have time to worry. To try to synchronize her movements to the scanning pattern. She needed as much of a lead as possible. Every second counted. She’d be more vigilant later—assuming there was a later.
The cold pavement chilled her feet through the wrappings as she headed for the road.
A quick scan and she was sprinting across—ready to jump into the water if the Suburban appeared behind her.
The road was still empty as she crested the far side, crossing that street then disappearing into the industrial section.
More buildings. More alleyways. More darting between empty warehouses and closed businesses.
Christ, she didn’t even know what day it was. Saturday? Sunday?
It was late—the sun already setting. But wouldn’t a few shops still be open if it was a weekday?
If they hoped to survive in the present economy?
Not that it mattered. Closed meant vacant.
And even if she set off an alarm—if she was able to hide for a bit, it wasn’t the same as having a physical presence. What might be a deterrent.