Chapter 17
Natalia woke in stages. Her thoughts were choppy, coming to her slowly at first. The first thing she noticed was the incessant pounding in her head. Next came the dry, desert feel of her tongue, lips, and throat. Like she’d swallowed a handful of cotton, chased with a giant bottle of sand.
What…the hell?
She had no idea why she felt so crappy, or what she’d drank the night before. Whatever it was, it must have been a lot. And it was most definitely not worth it.
Think hard, Foster. What the heck did you and Jagger do last night?
Memories of Jagger staring deep into her eyes as he declared his love for her rushed back to the surface. Her heart swelled with a feeling of fullness so wonderfully complete that it was almost enough to distract her from the throbbing pain covering every inch of her skull.
Almost.
Natalia groaned, and it took multiple blinks for her eyelids to finally peel open. The haze clouding her vision cleared a moment later. When it did, her confusion instantly morphed into terror as she took in the unexpected surroundings.
Talia was lying on her side in the middle of an eight-by-eight room. The floor was made of cold concrete, the walls formed with stacks of historical-aged stones. Looking around, there wasn’t a single window in sight, and the only door to the room was closed.
It wasn’t until she started to push herself up to her knees that Natalia even noticed the cuffs holding her wrists together.
No!
The rest of the night came back in one fell swoop.
I was at Homeland, and then in the apartment with Jagger. He told me how he felt, we made love, and then we fell asleep in each other’s arms. And after that—
After that, Natalia’s phone had started to ring. She’d woken up to a call from Ryker. He’d all but ordered her back to Homeland because Lopez apparently had more intel on Sanchez.
A frown pulled at her brow as she recalled bickering with Ryker about waking up Jagger so he could escort her there. In the end, she’d reminded him of the shit-ton of training she’d had over the years. Natalia also remembered assuming someone from Echo Team would be on her tail. Except…
I don’t remember a tail.
She’d kept an eye on her rearview mirror for the first few miles after leaving the apartment. A flicker of recollection struck, and she remembered thinking maybe Jagger had decided to give Echo the night off.
But now—
Oh, God!
If someone from Echo had been watching the safe house, and the person after her had spotted them, too, there was a chance they’d been hurt…or worse. All so they couldn’t stop the bastard from going through with his plan.
Please don’t let anyone else be hurt because of me.
That seemed to be a common theme for anyone with the unlucky fortune of getting too close. Three years ago, it was Julian in that damn building in Afghanistan. Not even three days ago, Jagger nearly died feet away, in her own front yard.
At least in Afghanistan, there was someone she could blame. The terrorist assholes she and her team had been hunting had set a trap, and she’d led them right to it.
Natalia had lived with a hefty dose of hate in her heart ever since. For the terrorists and for herself. The last few days, however, it had noticeably eased. The only explanation she could come up with was—
Jagger.
An image flashed in her mind. Him looking so handsome and peaceful, fast asleep in her bed. It was the last memory she had of the man she loved. Now she was here, wherever this place was, and she’d been taken by an unknown enemy.
Natalia reached up to the left side of her neck when an odd twinge of pain struck as she turned her head. The intense soreness in her muscles made itself known, but that spot on her neck was especially tender.
It took a few more minutes of confusion and struggling to regain the memories of what had happened prior to her abduction. She had to have been fully incapacitated. It was the only way for someone to have kidnapped her before bringing her here.
I was tased.
Natalia remembered that now. Her car had suddenly stopped working, so she’d been forced to pull to the side of the road. Not long after, another vehicle passed by before pulling over. The man driving was alone and had gotten out with an offer to help.
She’d thanked him for the offer but politely declined. She remembered reaching for her phone to call Ryker to come pick her up.
Her attacker chose that moment to strike. She could see it all so clearly, now.
In her mind, Natalia replayed her door flying open and a gloved hand quickly moving toward her face. Only he hadn’t been going for her face, but rather her neck. She hadn’t noticed the taser held tightly in his fist until it was too late.
There’d been an instant and excruciating rush of electrifying pain. Every muscle in her body had seized on contact, incapacitating her long enough for the man to insert a needle into her skin.
Whatever drug she’d been given, it had knocked her unconscious. She’d been taken alive, but the question was why?
Doesn’t matter why. All you need to focus on is finding a way out of here.
Her movements were slow and jerky, her muscles sore and trembling as if she’d spent hours lifting weights in the gym. It wasn’t the first time she’d been tased, and given her profession, there was a good chance it wouldn’t be her last. But damn.
Getting tased hurt like a bitch, and it always took her a while to regain all her strength.
Push through it. Ignore the pain.
Moving with cautious steps at first, Natalia made her way to the door. As expected, it was locked, and from what she could tell, it was one of those heavy-duty, fireproof doors.
Looking completely out of place for the period compared to the building’s other materials, it was made of metal. The kind that would require an explosive device of some sort to breach.
Unfortunately, the bra she’d used countless times before to conceal a smidge of C4 was in her closet back home. Releasing a long sigh, she began looking around the room for anything that might be useful.
Her hopes of finding something to use as a weapon or means of escape vanished within seconds, because there was nothing. No exposed pipes to break free or shards of broken glass. The room was completely clear of anything other than a few swirls of dirt and a handful of scattered, dead leaves.
Looking around, Natalia had the fleeting thought that she may as well be in a padded room at this point. She also realized she was utterly screwed.
New plan.
She’d wait until her abductor returned. Kill first, ask questions later.
Sure seemed to work out fine for Jimmy that night at the port.
Her abductor’s identity and motive were a far second place behind her need for survival. Lucky for her, she’d been training her entire adult life for situations exactly like this.
For now, all she could do was sit with her back to the corner of the room and wait.
“So we’ve got nothin’.” Jagger fumed as he stood with his feet shoulder-width apart. His hands went to his hips as he looked around the room. “That’s what you’re all tellin’ me, right? That we’ve got nothin’ to go on, and not one iota of a clue as to where to even start lookin’?”
Dear God, in Heaven.
It had been four hours since Ryker had woken him up from a dead sleep. An eternity, or so it seemed, since he’d been dreaming of Talia and a little girl with those same, beautiful eyes.
His gut churned with nauseating dread from knowing she’d been taken against her will. And while she’d been enduring only God knows what, he’d been sound asleep in her bed.
“We’re going to find her, Brooks.” Ryker made a promise they all knew he may not be able to keep.
“How?” he demanded. “We don’t even know where to start.”
“We’re trying, brother.” Liam stood with a determined expression next to Blake Savage. “We’ve been going through everything again, all the way back to the beginning in case there’s something we missed.”
In their hands were near-identical tablets, and the two computer geniuses looked as eager as ever to get to work. The rest of Jagger’s teammates, as well as the other Echo Team members were also present.
Minus Jimmy Baxter, of course.
From what Ryker had shared, not long after Jagger had left the two men in the parking lot, Baxter was officially dismissed of his duties via a phone call from R.I.S.C.’s creator, Jake McQueen. The incompetent operative was fired on the spot and sent back home.
“The beginning?” Jagger sent Liam a frown. “You’re talking about the port op in Chicago?”
Liam gave his shoulder a shrug. “That’s the night everything started. You said before that was when Talia found the first piece of evidence that someone had been stalking her?”
“The photo left inside her hotel room.” Jagger nodded. “It was a picture of Talia with an old friend.”
Christian chimed in next with an added, “That was the same friend whose obit was left on her car the other night, right?”
“Julian Miller,” he gave another confirming nod.
“He was former CIA. Died three years ago on an op in Afghanistan. From what Talia shared, it was all a set-up,” Jagger explained.
“There was an explosion that took out Miller and nearly killed Talia, too.” The second the words were out, another thought struck.
One that had him muttering a low and angry, “Sinclair.”
“Who?”
All eyes turned to Gwen Winslow, who’d been listening from the other side of the room.
“Keith Sinclair,” Ryker answered the blonde explosives expert before Jagger could respond. “Makes sense, given their history.”
When he’d first flown her here, Jagger had felt guilty for having doubted Talia’s loyalty regarding her knowledge of Sinclair’s involvement with Sanchez. Now he was damn glad he’d decided to make the trip.
The members of Echo listened while Ryker gave them a quick rundown on Sinclair’s time working with Talia and Miller. As he spoke, Jagger looked around the room at all who were there to help.