Chapter 37 - Daniil
The map that Anatoli sent led me to a warehouse park that looked like it had fallen into disuse.
Most of the buildings had an air of abandonment about them, the ones closer to the front that weren’t completely boarded up were empty.
If Paisley had been taken here, I was now at a loss as to which building she was in.
There were acres of ground to cover, and in almost total darkness.
Frustration welled as I drove down the lanes between warehouses, my headlights off so I wouldn’t be noticed by a lookout if there was one.
I gripped the steering wheel, inching along, up and down the rows.
This might be a dead end. There were certainly no working cameras here.
I had to believe Anatoli was assuming Paisley was there at all because this was the only place for miles and perhaps this was the last time he caught the car she was in on a surveillance camera.
There was no time to waste. She had already been away from the lodge and away from the safety I could provide her for hours. If she was even in trouble. She could be the ringleader of this operation for all I knew, and be briefing her group on a new attack against my family.
My gut still didn’t buy it. The feeling she was in danger only grew as I made my way deeper into the park.
Finally, I caught a glimpse of a dark car parked haphazardly in one of the alleys, like it had skidded to a stop instead of properly parking.
This was the first sign of anyone actually being there that I had seen and I rolled to a stop, heart pounding.
As soon as I was out of the car, I heard a faint scream coming from within the warehouse next door. Without pausing to think or make a plan, I raced up the steps and kicked open the heavy metal door. It screeched on its hinges, causing the man choking Paisley to jerk his head my way.
Paisley was half unconscious, feebly fighting her attacker who was at least as big as I was.
Red rage filled my vision. No one touched her, no one hurt her.
And this asshole was reaching under his jacket as he continued to tighten his grip on her neck with one hand, slamming her head against the concrete floor.
Everything went very still and calm as my lifetime of training kicked in.
I moved faster, faster than him, and drew my own gun.
In a heartbeat the safety was off and my finger wrapped around the trigger.
The only thing that made me hesitate was the slim chance I hit Paisley.
If he moved a couple inches closer or dragged her up to use her as a shield, it would be too late once the bullet was discharged.
Instead of pulling the trigger, I leapt forward, kicking the man in the head just as he aimed his gun at me and let off a shot. I felt the bullet sear past me, ripping a trench in my jacket sleeve as my foot made contact with his skull.
There was a satisfying crack underneath the reverberating echo of the gunfire.
His head snapped to the side. I kicked him again and his hand loosened around Paisley’s neck.
But was it too late? She lay still and pale, her eyes closed.
With a roar of fury, I jammed my gun against his ear and pulled the trigger.
Hot blood splashed against the wall as his body fell limp, half on top of Paisley.
I kicked him aside and pulled her away from the red pool slowly growing under the assailant’s head.
“Paisley,” I shouted, falling to my knees beside her and dragging her close to check for a pulse.
Her eyelids fluttered and she drew a deep, shuddering breath, lapsing into a fit of coughing. I stroked her hair and patted her back, as relief flooded my system. She was alive.
But not okay. The moment she could breathe properly again, she shook off her torpor and grabbed my shirt.
“Dan, they’re in trouble.” she said, hysterical tears flowing down her cheeks as more words spilled out. I could barely understand her she was speaking so fast.
“Slow down,” I said. “You’re safe now.”
She shook her head. “But your family isn’t.
You have to warn them, make them leave the lodge.
” Still holding onto my shirt front, she spilled out a story about finding a list of missing employees.
“I asked around with their family members and then the FBI contacted me,” she said, looking at the corpse a few feet away from us.
“Him. He’s FBI, but he’s dirty. He works for my old company, Axon.
I don’t know what they’re up to, but it’s bad enough to kill people to keep it covered up.
” After she gave the FBI man’s body a dark look, she turned to me and began to cry all over again.
“Now they think your family is involved and are going after them.”
“You don’t have to worry about us,” I said, pushing wild strands of hair out of her face. I scowled down at the red marks on her neck and pulled her into my arms.
She shoved away. “You don’t understand how bad they are,” she said.
She had been taken here to end her life, and it was clear she was battered and bruised.
Now that she was safe, all she could worry about was my family, desperately afraid for their safety.
There was no more doubt in my mind that she was completely innocent, and only got caught up in something beyond her control.
“They might be bad,” I said. If they truly were part of the Collective, she had no idea. “But we’re worse.”
She blinked several times, still shaking her head.
She didn’t believe me, thought I was grandstanding, being macho.
I didn’t want to scare her when she was already shaken to the core and shut up about my family’s ability to take care of themselves.
All I said was that they had increased security measures and were staying on high alert.
“Let’s get you out of here,” I said, helping her to her feet.
“Yes, please,” she said, giving one last look at the dirty cop laying in the dust. “What about—what about him?”
“Fuck him,” I said.
She shivered, then nodded. “I guess someone will find him eventually.”
What would really happen was some of my guys would come and take his body on a little boat ride and feed him to the sharks in the Pacific later on tonight. I admired her small display of ruthlessness in the face of what she’d been through.
Once she was standing, she was wobbly on her feet, groaning and pressing her hand into her midsection. I picked her up and carried her toward the door, and instead of complaining, she rested her head against my shoulder, her breath soft and warm against my neck.
“I thought I was dead,” she whispered.
“Not while I’m around,” I said, hugging her tighter.
“Why are you around?” she asked, perking up a bit. “How did you find me?”
“Long story,” I said. “For another time. Just rest.”
She did just that on the ride back into the city where I booked us into one of my cousin’s hotels. She kept her eyes closed and her head leaning against the cool window, everyone once in a while raising her hand to her bruised throat.
I wanted to kill that guy all over again.
I carried her into the hotel through the garage entrance, heading straight toward the elevators.
No one was around at that time of night, or rather, very early morning.
Paisley yawned against my neck, cuddling in closer against my chest. I breathed another sigh of relief.
Another minute and I would have been too late.
If I hadn’t listened to my gut, that never stopped believing Paisley’s innocence, I would still be at the lodge, waiting until morning to do anything about finding her.
Once in the modern, opulent room, she gave me a real smile as I settled her in a plush armchair and opened the minibar to offer her a restorative drink.
“Whiskey or vodka?” I asked.
She groaned and shook her head. “Just water. All that stress has my stomach in knots.”
“That was a little more than stress,” I said, noticing the red welts around her wrist for the first time. I hissed, gently rubbing the marks.
“I was cuffed to a chair,” she said. “I tried to escape with it, and was going to use it as a weapon, but then I got hit by a car.”
I swore, but was glad to see the color returning to her cheeks as she recounted more of the ordeal. “Yeah, I’d say that warrants a little stomach ache,” I said. “You were brave as hell.”
Fresh tears welled. “It didn’t matter in the end. I’d be dead right now if it weren’t for you. Thank you and… I’m sorry.” Her voice almost disappeared on the last words and her head dropped to her chin.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” I said.
“I opened your family up to those monsters,” she said.
Since I was almost one hundred percent certain her old company was linked to our greatest enemy, that wasn’t exactly true.
We’d already been fighting the Collective for a while, but I couldn’t explain that to her without scaring further.
She viewed me as a hero, and I liked that better than suddenly being just another big, bad criminal.
“I don’t understand about the nanny agency,” I said after a long moment. It was the only thing that still didn’t sit right with me.
“So you know I’m not registered with them?” she asked, keeping her head down.
I nodded, and she immediately explained everything.
It matched with what the owner of the agency said, how they’d been friends forever and it was an emergency situation.
Paisley jumped at the opportunity to get out of town while she figured out what was going on at Axon, and never dreamed things would end up like they did.
I handed her my phone. “While we’re talking about your friend,” I said, wrinkling my brow. “I might have given her cause to worry about you. Give her a quick call to let her know you’re all right because I don’t think she’s sleeping.”
Paisley gave me a long look but called Marlowe, letting her know everything was fine in a falsely chipper voice.
“I’ll tell you everything soon,” she said before ending the call and turning to me.
“I might have put her in danger, too. Just like you and your family. I never would have brought them down on you if I knew.”
I took her hand and squeezed it. “How could you know?” I said.
It was crystal clear that she was unaware of certain parts of the world.
My part. As much as I wanted to open up the same way she was, I couldn’t bear the risk of seeing fear in her eyes that was now directed at me.
As I pulled her close, she moaned, shoving away and clapping her hand over her mouth.
Jumping up, she ran for the next room in the suite. I heard the bathroom door slam and when I went to investigate after she’d been in there for several minutes, I heard the water running and the sound of soft sobs.
“Are you okay?” I asked, tapping on the door. When she didn’t answer, I turned the handle. It was unlocked and I found her sitting on the marble floor, a towel wrapped around her shivering shoulders, her face the color of sour milk. “No, you’re not.”
Fear rushed in and I knelt beside her. Were her injuries more severe that she let on?
She shook her head weakly, forcing a wan smile. “I think it’s just all that adrenaline working its way out of my system. I’m not used to all this excitement.”
I wanted to call bullshit. I had seen her fly through the air on her snowboard. She was no stranger to adrenaline. “You got hit by a damn car,” I reminded her.
“Barely a tap,” she told me, then a green tint rose up from her chest to suffuse her face. “Oh God, get out.” She shoved me toward the door as she flung herself at the toilet bowl.
Outside I heard the sounds of retching, but no matter how bossy and imperious I got, she refused to let me take her to the hospital. After a half an hour or so of pacing anxiously, I was about to carry her down to the car and to the nearest emergency room, but she finally came out.
Still pale, but without the sickly tint, she moved past me and collapsed on the bed.
She was asleep by the time I was at her side.
Still worried, I pulled a blanket over her and got in beside her, pulling her close.
With the sound of her gentle breathing near my ear, everything else receded and I fell asleep beside her.