Chapter 4 #2
And there was, indeed. She handed out two sandwiches to the two men in the front seat and snatched one for herself. She wanted to inhale it in five bites but forced herself to take tiny bites and to eat it slowly. She sat back, just letting her stomach acclimate to having food again.
Rubin turned to her. “I’m so sorry.”
She nodded and pointed at the bags. “At least we have food. So, if I just eat a little bit every hour,” she suggested, “I should get there.” She opened a bottled water and had a sip.
Rubin asked, “Did he give you water?”
“Not much, not much water, not much food. Lots of abuse though.”
He nodded. “I also grabbed some bandages in case we need them.”
“My wounds do feel better though, so thank you for that.” With food, water, riding in a getaway vehicle away from her dead captor, she felt so much better already. She leaned forward, taking a break from her sandwich. “Where are we going?”
“To a safe house,” he shared.
“Are we still—”
“Still in Kazakhstan, but we need to get you in a little bit better shape. Plus, maybe, … I was thinking we should dye your hair. The more camouflage the better.”
“Unless you have a problem with that,” Oakley said.
She shook her head. “No, that’s fine, but it’ll take a bit to get my hair under control enough to even dye it,” she explained. “It’s pretty tangled.”
Rubin nodded. “That’s okay. I think we’ve got that covered too, once we get to the house.” He checked the GPS and shared, “Looks to be about thirty minutes away.”
“Good thing you have a place,” she noted, as she yawned. “Seems as if we’ve been traveling all day.”
“We have, in a way, so we’re almost there. You can get a hot shower and have some more food if you want. We’ll deal with your hair there.”
“And maybe sleep in a real bed?”
“Yep.”
It sounded like Nirvana to her, so she sat back and waited.
*
Several hours later Rubin walked past Tricia’s open bedroom door within the safe house and peeked inside to ensure she was okay.
She was curled up in a tiny ball. He heard an occasional odd whimper coming from her mouth.
After what she had endured, he was sure the nightmares would take a lot longer to leave her than she realized.
Yet she’d held up pretty well, considering. When they first arrived, he had noted the exhaustion on her face. But it had been nothing compared to the exhaustion on her face when she had gotten out of the shower.
She could barely function at that point, so he knew they had to do her hair quickly before she collapsed, before the guys ended up dealing with somebody completely somnolent. He’d gotten her a chair, detangled her hair with the help of a special spray, and then done the dye for her.
She hadn’t even cared. Most women he knew would be extremely worried about dyeing their hair, especially with him doing it, and would raise hell if it was messed up. But she seemed completely unconcerned.
He’d been happy to finally get the dye in, get it timed, get it rinsed.
And then he had to comb the conditioner onto her hair.
That had been a good thing because her hair had most definitely suffered from her captivity.
He smiled as he watched her sleep, checking to ensure she would get past the current nightmare.
She whimpered again, then seemed to drift off into an uneasy sleep. He walked into the kitchen, thinking that the band would be regrouping soon, now that they’d reached the safe house.
Oakley turned to him. “How’s she doing?”
“She’s sleeping but not peacefully.”
“No surprise there,” he pointed out. “It’ll be quite a while before she sleeps well again.”
Rubin nodded. “We understand that, right? Nobody ever seems to fully realize how long the effects of PTSD can last, if it ever goes away. … We both know plenty of people still dealing with the effects of trauma, even after multiple decades have passed.”
Unfortunately, it was a fact they knew all too well, and, while help was available nowadays, results were mixed and were influenced by many factors. Rubin sat down heavily on the kitchen chair across from Oakley. “Anything?” he asked.
“Nobody’s got a name on this guy, nothing. He used an alias to purchase that train ticket,” he stated.
“Which we already knew.”
“Yes, and his face isn’t triggering anything in any databases. Interpol’s a dud, and the CIA and FBI have nothing on him.”
“So, we know jack shit.”
“Yes, so far, we know jack shit. I’ve sent it to Mason, and he’s working on it from his end.”
“You mean, he’s got Tesla working on it,” Rubin clarified, with a smirk.
Oakley shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe not, since she just had a baby.”
“Yet you know, the minute anybody needs help, she’s right in there,” he added, with a knowing smile.
“She’s good people,” Oakley agreed. “If anybody can help us find this guy, she will want to be in the middle of it, one way or another.”
“I suspect he’s just some small anonymous thug for hire. Like those terrorist cells, with no connection to the other players. So I don’t mind in the least that Tesla wants to help. She’s who we want to be working with.”
“Yeah, you’re not kidding,” he agreed. “Did you notice that Mason seems different somehow? … Softer.”
“Oh, I don’t think he would want to hear that. Better find another word.”
“Okay, let’s just say that maybe he’s aged.” Yet Oakley frowned, as he thought about it further. “Like a fine wine, you know?” He burst out laughing at that, and Rubin smiled too.
“You think he would like that any better?”
Oakley grinned at him. “Maybe not. Yet it’s not an insult.”
“He’s been through a lot this last year. It was rough on them after he got shot. It took him a long time to get back on his feet. He’s lucky to be alive,” Rubin pointed out. “However, he’s back on his game now, and, from the looks of it, he’s doing pretty well.”
“I would say so,” Oakley agreed. “I was just talking to him, and he seemed pretty chipper.”
“The fact that we have Tricia is huge, and the senator is more than happy with our progress,” Rubin noted. “However, the job isn’t over until we figure out who’s behind this and ensure Tricia will be safe, not just safe for a little while.”
“I hear you there,” Oakley replied, as he turned to him.
“Still, we’ve got to figure out who this dead asshole is for starters. He’s our only lead so far. It’s the only way we’ll track who he’s working with. Nothing on his phone, huh?”
“There is something, but they’re all burner phones. So, I can see the conversation but not the identities of the people involved. So not giving me anything helpful.”
“Just other numbers? You can do something with that—or not?”
“Yep, I can, … when it’s not a burner. I’ve handed those over to Mason. So, what about Trent and Hayden? They should be here soon, huh?”
Rubin glanced at his watch and nodded. “In about five minutes flat.” Almost on cue, a noise came at the front door, and he got up and let in the rest of the team.
As they trooped in, Hayden stared at him, his eyes brooding. “How in the hell did you know that’s the way it would turn out?”
“I would say instincts, but—”
“Yeah, instincts is a good answer,” Trent admitted ruefully, “but that was next-level BS.”
Hayden added, “We wanted to be right, but the trouble was, we didn’t have enough to go on. And we had to check it out anyway.”
Rubin replied, his tone mild, “We did. And this isn’t a competition. It’s all about getting the job done, and that’s what we’re doing.” That seemed to put everybody on pause.
Hayden asked, “Where is she?”
“Sleeping,” Rubin noted. “So, let’s keep our voices down.”
Oakley clarified, speaking softly, “By sleeping, he really means, tossing, turning, and crying out as the nightmares come and go.”
Rubin agreed. “That’s probably putting it mildly. She’s a good one though, and she’s holding up well, considering.”
“That’s pretty important in itself,” Trent pointed out. “The last thing we need is somebody hysterical.”
“If she were to wake up right now and see all of us at once, she might get that way,” Rubin suggested.
Oakley snickered. “That’s true, since she doesn’t know you guys.”
Rubin added, “Her captivity was brutal.”
Hayden nodded. “Understandable. What happened to the one holding her?”
“He was the guy using an alias to purchase their train tickets. I shot him dead, … unfortunately right in front of her. So, I don’t know how she’ll react when waking up to all of us.”
“Did you tell her that we were coming?” Trent asked.
“Just a quick mention. I didn’t really have time. Once we got here, she crashed very quickly.”
“Tell me you got her looks changed at least.”
“We got her hair colored and some new clothes, and she already looks like a new person.”
“Don’t forget her documents,” Oakley chimed in.
“Yeah, she’s got no paperwork. Her father is supposedly dealing with that. If not, then we will deal with it.”
“Or we get her onto a charter flight,” Hayden chipped in. “That way we can get her home and deal with it when we land.”
Oakley agreed. “Sounds like a plan. Have you checked in with the boss?”
Hayden nodded. “Yeah, Mason knows.”
“No surprise there,” Trent quipped, with a laugh.
Then he shook his head and added, “It still sucks though. Who’s behind all this shit?
We can’t take her back home again only to have them get her again, or, worse yet, they could grab her and the senator.
The shit could really escalate, so what then? ”
“Which is why we’re working on it here. Was it just about money from her father or getting him to vote a certain way?
There was no ransom demand, so probably more about controlling the senator’s vote.
I’ve considered human trafficking or some drug-mule scenario but nothing supports those two theories.
Once we get Tricia back to a friendly military base, we can hand her off to somebody who can get her home, safe and sound.
In the meantime, we must confirm that we’re not being followed. ”
“You find anything on the dead guy?”