19. Xander
Xander
Andrie had barely left my sight when I noticed she’d left her cell phone on the seat.
Cursing, I grabbed it as I unbuckled, hoping I could reach her before she went inside.
I hopped out, leaving the door open, and rushed around the car, following her path through the overgrown bushes.
Before I could push my way through them, I heard the front door slam shut and froze.
Sure, there were several reasons for a door to slam, but closing it after welcoming a guest you called to visit wasn’t one of them.
I stood in place for a few seconds, debating whether or not I was overthinking and overreacting in my efforts to protect Andrie before deciding there wasn’t any harm in doing a quick walk around the house.
No doubt this guy would feel most comfortable talking to Andrie in the kitchen or perhaps the living room.
It would be easy enough for me to sneak around and check on her before knocking on the front door and announcing my presence.
Decision made, I slipped her phone into my pocket and retraced my steps, careful to keep out of view from both the windows and street as I made my way between the side of the detached garage and the house, mentally trying to come up with an excuse if I was caught by the homeowner.
If he were Special Forces, it was certainly possible he’d notice me, especially if he was in a twitchy mood.
I circled the house, looking into windows as I passed.
A small bathroom, empty bedroom that was small enough it might have been better served as an office, and dated kitchen.
I was just about to turn around, already reading myself the riot act about jumping to conclusions, when a quick glance into the dining room had me freezing mid-step.
Fear, an emotion I haven’t felt since walking into my empty, ransacked apartment in Russia, flooded me, making it impossible for me to move. The world seemed to gray, and the sound of my racing heart was the only thing I could hear. That was, until I heard Andrie’s small cry.
That sound might as well have been a rubber band being snapped, and the world came back into focus and, with it, my resolve. I’d died for the love of my life once; I’d damn sure kill to keep her safe.
I watched Andrie come into view. A man dragged her into the room, trying to place her in a chair, but when she kicked out at him, he touched her with something in his hand, and she went limp. He sneered at her even as he lifted her from where she lay on the floor.
As much as I wanted to storm into the room or just shoot him where he stood, I couldn’t risk her.
He was too close to her as he lifted her into the wooden chair, zip-tying her arms before bending down to secure her legs.
Plastic lined the floor around the chair, telling me without having to guess what the man had planned.
I loathed to lose sight of her, but I needed to get into the house, and I had to do it fast if I were going to prevent any more harm to her.
Slipping back around the house, I didn’t bother with the kitchen window, knowing I’d make too much noise and be too vulnerable.
The bathroom would’ve been best, but was too close to the street.
I’d be at risk from a neighbor or passerby seeing me break in and calling the police.
Pulling a switchblade from my pocket and keeping my gun close at hand in the waistband of my jeans, I went to work on the small window of the empty bedroom.
The door to the room was closed, so at least I didn’t have to worry about being seen as I pulled the screen off with ease before using the tip of the knife to work on the window.
Luckily, it was an old window, and I was able to jimmy it with the ease of someone who’d done it more than once or twice in their past.
Pulling my gun out, I waited in the now-open window, training the weapon on the door.
Several long seconds passed before I slipped into the room, grateful the carpeted floor masked my entry.
A trained assassin I was not, but I was grateful—for the first time in my life—for being raised the way I had.
This wasn’t the first time I’d broken into a building, nor would it be my first time killing.
Only, this time, it was to protect someone.
“Wake up,” I heard the man—Steve—say, followed by the slap of skin on skin, which made my blood boil.
Andrie didn’t make a sound this time, and I wondered if she was still unconscious until I heard her soft voice drift to me.
“I’m not sure what you hope to accomplish, but people know where I am.
You won’t be able to get away with this.
It won’t take ten minutes to pull your military record and track you down. ”
“You really think I didn’t plan this?” Steve sounded amused. “Let me ask you, Doc, how do you think I ended up as your patient? After all, it’s not like I could find you in the yellow pages.”
“I’m supposed to believe the US government ordered you to taser me and bind me to a chair?” she asked dryly, and I had to hide a smile. Leave it to Andrie to sound completely in control of the situation, even when she was up to her eyeballs in trouble.
“Where is it?” Steve asked, turning serious.
Andrie blew out a breath, sounding as if she were tired of the subject matter already. “Where is what?”
“The list!” he practically spat out.
“My patient list? The government already has that information. It might be classified, but it’s hardly a secret.
After all, they are the ones who send y’all to me.
It’s not like it’s the other way around.
” Her prim and proper attitude was still firmly in place, but I could sense the fear she was trying so hard to hide.
“Oh, believe me, I know the military’s love of paperwork.
Likely, the files are in triplicate and in some storage building somewhere.
But not together. You have clearance to council all the top dogs.
Navy, Army, Marine Corps, Air Force … Even the goddamn CIA, DOJ, and NSA have you on their payroll.
Do you think they read each other in? Besides, we both know if your clearance level goes that high, you have others that are so buried, they don’t even have names attached to them.
Hear any whispers, doc? Any ghosts in the night?
” He was almost taunting her. Then he cursed.
“Your fucking drive is empty. Where the hell are your patient records? They aren’t in your briefcase, so they have to be at your house.
Tell me where they are, and I’ll kill you quickly.
Trust me, I have no issues going slow and making it hurt. ”
“Why would you think it’s at my house?” Andrie asked, her confusion evident, before she cried out, causing my hand to fist. I was slowly inching down the hall, but it was slow going.
With a house as old as this one, creaky floors were inevitable, and I had to test each move before placing my weight.
“It’s not on you or at your office. I know you have everything stored somewhere.
You likely shred the paper copies we bring you as soon as you compile the information.
Stop stalling. If I have to cut it out of you, I’ll do it.
I don’t like to torture for the sake of torture, but I have no issue making a mess to get what I want. Breaking a few eggs and all that.”
Andrie’s voice rose, coming faster now. “You missed it in my office. I had it hidden in the bookcase. As soon as the police cleared out, I pulled the hard drive and gave it to a friend. He secured it somewhere even you can’t reach.
” Another cry, but I didn’t hear a slap that time.
“Please, just let me go. You missed your chance.”
“Bullshit. Why do you think I was tapped to come down here before you moved offices? Do you know how much someone will pay for that information? My partner and I already have a buyer lined up.”
Andrie came into view as I finally made my way out of the hall.
First, I saw her arm, tied to a chair and stained red with blood.
It was slowly flowing down her arm to the tips of her fingers, dripping onto the clear plastic lining the floor.
It was clearly large enough for a body, the intent spelled out for her as well as me, if the banked terror in her eyes was any indication.
She saw me almost immediately but was quick to tear her eyes back to Steve, not wanting to alert him to my presence.
“I don’t understand, Steve. Why do you think my patient list is anything special?
I mean, yes, I have some top men and women on my lists, but I don’t even have assurance the files or names they give me are real.
Look at you, for instance. You call me, give me a file I assume is from whatever military branch you come from, and we start scheduling sessions.
Only one branch gives me files that are mostly unredacted.
Everything else has more black-out on it than words. ”
“You think I didn’t do my own scouting around before I tried your office?” he sneered. “What kind of therapist sweeps for bugs daily? Who has state-of-the-art security in their building? And who keeps their laptop in a safe when not in use? No, you have more information than you’re letting on.”
“I worked with Special Forces and other Tier One operators,” Andrie practically screeched as Steve came forward again with a knife coated in her blood.
“My military contact picked out the office building. And the bug sweeps are in my contract—I can’t afford to lose it.
Who do you think showed me how to use the equipment, let alone gave it to me?
And the office came with the safe. I just assumed I was supposed to use it.
” She was practically babbling now, I couldn’t tell if it was to keep his attention on her or because the knife was coming closer and closer to her hand this time.