Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Only an occasional vehicle traveled the route. Headlights approached from behind, and a black van stopped beyond where he walked. The side door opened, and a voice from inside commanded, “Get in.”
Wyl climbed inside and was immediately hooded and shoved into a seat.
“Stay!”
Wyl did as instructed.
Hands frisked him for weapons and tracking devices.
The toughs took his cell phone and watch.
Wyl hoped his government cell phone detected unusual activity that triggered an alert, but he wasn’t sure that was possible.
They must be headed for a covert outpost of some kind.
He lost count after fifteen stops and twenty turns.
The van finally stopped, and the door slid open.
Someone grabbed his right arm and tugged him out.
Another hand grabbed his left arm and led him forward. The van pulled away.
They walked about twenty steps. A gruff voice said, “Step down.” Stairs.
Twelve steps down. A door creaked open. Inside, noisy machinery ran somewhere.
Another door creaked open. Wyl stumbled into the next room from a hard shove.
The aroma of industrial cleaning solvents assaulted his nose.
The door creaked closed behind him, muting the noise.
Something clicked before someone lifted the hood.
Bright fluorescent lights temporarily blinded him. His vision gradually cleared.
* * *
“Do you have them?” Glenn asked. He and James were in O’Brien’s office, watching a monitor. It was 3:30 in the morning, but the case had taken an urgent turn with the abduction of Rod and Wyl’s refusal to share information.
“Aye,” O’Brien said. “We have the signal from Wyl’s phone. We tracked the phone to the GMIT campus, but now we show the phone following a route to Waterford.”
“Waterford? What the feck?” Glenn said. “Is that where Rod’s phone is?”
“We don’t have a signal from Rod’s phone,” O’Brien said. “I asked Commissioner Kane to ask General Sternberg if he can provide us with a history of the tracking. We may have a lead if we can determine where Rod’s signal ended.”
“First, let’s track down that vehicle. If they took Wyl and he’s headed for Waterford, we’re running out of time.” James huffed. “If Ailbe is in Waterford and he gets the information he needs from Wyl, we may have two more murders on our hands.”
“Waterford would be out of character for MacGowan,” O’Brien said. “Our prior surveillance of his patterns includes no trips to Waterford. But you’re right, we need to pick up that vehicle. If Wyl or Rod is inside, they’ll need our help.”
“We don’t even know what the vehicle looks like,” Glenn said.
“No, but we know the route and approximately where it is. It’s around a three-hour drive from Galway to Waterford, so I’ll ask Waterford Gardaí to set up a roadblock, stopping motorists looking for drunk drivers. We can come close to the exact location and home in on the geo-signal.”
“Do it,” James said. “Let’s not waste time.”
O’Brien picked up the phone and called his counterpart in Waterford.
* * *
As Wyl’s vision cleared, he saw Rod staring at him from a chair across the room. Rod didn’t appear to be harmed and wasn’t bound or gagged. Wyl tried to run to him, but a hand grabbed his shirt collar. The shirt tugged against his throat.
Wyl coughed. “Let go!” His voice strained from the choke.
“He’s fine.” A familiar voice. He turned to see Declan smiling at him.
“I’m fine, Wyl,” Rod spoke.
Wyl stopped struggling. “Ailbe, I know you’re here somewhere.”
“Merely waiting for you.” Ailbe walked out from between storage shelves into the light. “We’re in a basement surrounded by heavy HVAC equipment, so no cell or tracking signals are getting in or out. Your cell phone is taking a little morning drive to Waterford, so guess where they’ll go looking?”
“They’ll figure it out sooner or later,” Wyl said.
“Maybe, but I can hide long enough to get what I want. That is, unless you want to see your precious husband lying in a morgue. I can’t prevent Declan’s guys from getting a little trigger-happy occasionally.”
Wyl glared at Ailbe.
“Now, if a certain roadblock is removed from my program, I’ll consider dropping you two off in a remote location, unharmed, of course.”
“Now that you have me, let Rod go,” Wyl said.
“What guarantee do I have that you’ll release your lock on the program?” Ailbe asked.
“Having Rod here won’t give me any incentive. Letting my darlin’ go will allow you and me to be together like we discussed.”
Rod tensed. What the fuck? Wyl and Ailbe together? Wyl wanted to fucking get rid of his darling? Then the safe word sank in. Darlin’. Wyl was playing the game. He didn’t like it. Not one bit. However, survival depended on maintaining the pretense.
Wyl glanced at Rod. His eyes met with a stern glare filled with shock and anger.
“I see your husband isn’t happy with that little statement,” Ailbe said. “I think I’ll let him go before he witnesses us two going at it.”
He motioned to the two toughs. “Tie his hands behind his back, blindfold him, and gag him so he can’t shout.
Then take him to the middle of the bridge down the street, tie his ankles together, and lay him down crossways.
It’s late. Some drunk driver will hit him and put him out of his misery.
It’s tragic when people accidentally wander into the street and become a traffic fatality. ”
“Ailbe,” Wyl said. “If you tie his ankles, it will look like a murder. Best to let him wander around. Have them spin him around three or four times first so he doesn’t know which way to go.”
Rod seethed. Wyl was trying to get his little darlin’ killed!
The two muscle guys duct taped Rod’s wrists behind his back, tied a cloth over his eyes, and then taped his mouth. They muscled Rod out of the room. Wyl could not do anything but watch his husband disappear out the door. Stay safe, Rod. They’ll come for us.
* * *
“I didn’t think you would consider leaving your husband,” Ailbe said.
“If you’re kicking Declan out, there’s room for me, right? Does he know you’re planning to get rid of him once your scheme is complete?” Wyl figured to press that irritating wedge a bit further between the two. It didn’t take a genius to figure out their relationship wasn’t solid.
“You’re spoiling my surprise, Sterling,” Ailbe said.
Wyl turned to see Declan’s face, now full of doubt.
“There is a computer on the table in the back corner. The maintenance folks use it to pull work tickets. I connected it to my office computer, where the project resides, waiting for a command to run. You need to do your job, Sterling. Make it run.”
Wyl glanced at Declan again, then back at Ailbe. He walked over and sat at the computer, lifting his hands to the keyboard. He didn’t want to make this easy by merely entering the 3-space code. Instead, he would take the time to get into the code itself to remove the command.
“It will take a while,” Wyl said. “Once I do and remove the code, pressing Enter will activate your program.”
“I’m in no hurry,” Ailbe said. “It’s feckin’ dark thirty on Sunday morning. Nobody is on campus and won’t be all day.”
* * *
Sunday morning at 6:30, the black van approached Waterford.
The three men in black could see the blue flashing lights of Garda patrol cars ahead as they came upon the city's outskirts.
Vehicles were being stopped on this side of the first roundabout.
They were stuck in the short line of cars waiting to be inspected.
“We'd better not let them discover this package,” one of the toughs held up the plastic bag containing Wyl’s cell phone and wristwatch. “They’re sure to connect us to the abduction.”
“Give it to me,” the goon in the left passenger seat said. He opened his window and flung the package over a stone fence and into a field alongside the road. “There…that should take care of it.”
* * *
“They should be at the inspection point outside of Waterford.” Glenn watched the stationary flashing icon on Chief O’Brien’s computer screen.
“It looks like they were stopped at the inspection point,” O’Brien said. “I should hear from Waterford Gardaí any minute.”
“Zoom in on that icon, Chief,” James said. “It’s been still for a while.”
“If Garda has the vehicle impounded, it wouldn’t be moving.” Chief O’Brien said. “I’ll call Waterford and find out what’s going on.”
O’Brien placed a call to Chief Kerry of Waterford Gardaí. Nothing to report. They started inspecting at 2:00 a.m., checked twelve automobiles, five vans, and four lorries, and found nothing suspicious or unusual.
“Feck,” O’Brien muttered as he zoomed in on the flashing icon.
It appeared to be ten metres off the motorway's side.
He called Chief Kerry back to search the area a quarter of a mile from the roadblock and east of the road, approximately ten metres.
Thirty minutes later, Kerry called back to confirm they had found a plastic bag containing a cell phone and a watch.
O’Brien’s office phone rang.
“O’Brien, here,” he answered.
“Chief, Seamus Kane here. I have General Sternberg on the line with me.”
“Chief O’Brien, I think I can help,” General Sternberg said. “We’ve been monitoring activity on MacGowan’s office computer, and we show he’s logged in now. Have your men check his office. If he’s not there, I’m willing to bet he’s somewhere on campus logged in remotely.”
“General, sir, thank you,” O’Brien said. “I’ll send my men there now.”
“His office computer needs to be powered down,” Sternberg said. “That will stop any installed programs from running. Shoot it if you have to.”
“Got it, General,” O’Brien said. “We’ll be careful.”
* * *
After the two toughs released him in the middle of the bridge, Rod was afraid to move.
He had no idea whether he was in the middle of a lane or between lanes.
One false move could mean certain death.
On the other hand, standing still could have the same result.
He heard a car approaching. A loud honk made him jump, but the vehicle sped by, the driver shouting eejit as the car passed.
He stood still, praying for the best. Another car approached.
This one stopped with a squeal of the brakes.
The engine idled, and the door opened. “What the feck are you doing?”
Rod mffd and tried to talk, but the duct tape kept him from making coherent sounds.
“I’ll pull off the tape, but don’t try anything funny.”
Rod nodded. He needed to inform the Gardaí about Wyl. The tape tugged at the stubble on his face as it peeled off, leaving stinging heat behind. He flexed his jaw and his lips to recover. “I need to get in touch with the police immediately.”
“Can I get your name?” The guy had spun him around to untie his mask and untape his wrists.
“Rod Sterling. I was kidnapped, and my husband, Wyl, is being held by the kidnappers. We need to hurry and contact the Gardaí.”
The untied mask fell to the ground. The tape unwound from his wrists left the same stinging sensation. He whirled around. “Do you have a cell phone?”
“I’m Chief Inspector O’Brien.” He already had the phone to his ear. “Where are they?”
“In the basement of the technology building.” Rod was on a dead run down the street toward the building.
“Basement of McGowan’s building. Steinburg has been monitoring. Disable the computer!” O’Brien shouted into the phone as he lumbered after Rod, leaving his cruiser in the middle of the street with the lights flashing.
* * *
Wyl smiled. Tension filled the air like electricity. Everyone was on edge. “MacGowan, I fixed your precious code,” he announced loudly. “You have five minutes to launch, or it will self-destruct.”
“What? You take that off now!” MacGowan shouted. “Declan…shoot his left knee!”
Declan pulled his weapon and pointed it at Ailbe. “I don’t think so, MacGowan. You’ve used me for the last time. Now that the code is done, I have no use for you.”
“Dec…what do you mean?” Ailbe edged toward Declan, his hands outstretched and his arms open. “I always put you first.”
“You’re a feckin’ liar, MacGowan. From our first day together, it’s always been about my connections, brawn, and protection for your precious scheme.
Well, maybe you were outsmarted by that brawn, especially since I heard you talking to Sterling like you were lovers.
I have no qualms about eliminating you and taking the winnings. ”
Ailbe stood in the center of the room and folded his arms, sneaking a hand inside his jacket. “I can see I didn’t give you enough credit. We’re an unstoppable team, you and I, Dec. We could live happily for the rest of our lives.”
“You are confused about the meaning of team,” Declan said. “You can’t have me and have Sterling too. So I’m about to live happily for the rest of my life. You are not, because your life is about to end.” Declan sneered, drawing aim at Ailbe.
Ailbe pulled his gun from his jacket and aimed at Declan. “We’ll see whose life is about to end.”
The door to the maintenance room flew open with a bang, and Rod rushed in. He quickly scanned the room and found Wyl at the computer desk, safe. His glare turned to Ailbe, and he ran toward him, not caring about the gun Ailbe held.
“What the feck,” Ailbe shouted. “How the feck did you get free?” He pointed the gun at Wyl. “I’ll just end things for the two of you, your precious husband first.”
Declan fired at Ailbe. “You feckin son of a bitch. After everything I did for you!”
Wyl jumped to his feet, his chair flying and landing on its back. He rushed from the computer table and cowered in a corner, trying to avoid more gunfire.
O’Brien lumbered in, followed by three Gardaí officers and James and Glen.
“Hands in the air!” the officers shouted.
In seconds, Rod had Wyl in a firm embrace. “I’ve got you, babe.” Wyl trembled in his arms, facing the wall, hands over his ears.
“Ahhhhhh,” Ailbe dropped his weapon and grabbed his shoulder. He rushed for the table, hoping to launch the sequence before the time ran out.
Gardaí grabbed Declan, disarming and subduing him before cuffing him. Declan watched as Ailbe attempted to complete his plan.
“Don’t touch that keyboard,” Glenn shouted as Ailbe reached the computer table.
Ailbe’s bloody hand hovered over the keyboard, a confident sneer on his face as he looked first at Glenn, then at Declan. His index finger dropped onto the Enter key. The computer beeped an acknowledgment.