Chapter 24
CHAPTER 24
Z ain picked up his phone. Time slowed to the rhythm of his barely there pulse. The atmosphere in the room crackled with tension. The device sat in his hand like a grenade. Lighter but more lethal.
Only a few minutes had passed since he hung up on Maxine. He’d either have an unpleasant, threatening message waiting for him, or proof they had Dana. He wasn’t ready for either.
Even Rami seemed to hold his breath while Zain opened the message.
He swiped to see the text. A small image had been sent from an undisclosed phone number. But he’d recognize the face anywhere. Dana’s drilling blue eyes struck him.
He enlarged the picture, and Rami leaned in. “Shit. Holy shit. They have her.”
Believing they had her was one thing—seeing the proof was an entirely different ball game. Scalding pain spread through his chest, cinching around his heart. Dana’s eyes were puffy and red, as if she’d been crying, and her skin was sallow and almost fucking translucent—she was so pale. Even her lips lacked color. Her wide, terrified blues screamed that she’d already endured too much.
The constriction in his chest intensified. He dropped his phone on the desk and tunneled his hand through his hair. “Fuck!” He paced, his mind whirring faster than an engine.
Rami’s pained gaze followed Zain. “I know it’s scary seeing her like that, but she’s alive, man.”
“I won’t believe that until I hear her voice.”
“Fair. But let’s work with the information we have.”
The shrill ring of his phone ripped through the air. Unknown caller. Without hesitation, he snatched the device and answered. “Yeah,” he demanded.
“You have your proof,” said Maxine. She was likely calling from a secure line. “Now I want to know who gave you that information and how.”
“You’re not in a position to make demands.”
“Neither are you.” Each word was punched out harder than the last.
“I’ll tell you my source when Dana’s safely with me. For all I know, you took that picture then killed her.” A beat passed. “Why’d you do it? If you’d left things alone, I never would’ve looked so hard at the bombings. Never would have discovered what you’d done to my unit. ”
Silence stretched for miles. “This wasn’t personal.”
“It’s very fucking personal.”
Maxine sighed. “I’m just doing my job.”
“Roger ordered the hit on Dana?”
She paused, seemingly weighing her words. “I don’t make those kinds of decisions.”
“But Roger does.”
No response.
A few seconds ticked by. “If you want the woman returned in one piece, I suggest you send me every shred of information you have, as well as how you obtained it.”
“I’m not negotiating until—”
“This isn’t a negotiation. It’s an order. And if we find out Dana knows more than you’ve disclosed, your entire family will suffer the consequences. You have thirty minutes to send me everything you have, including your source.”
The line went dead.
“Goddammit!” Zain roared.
The door opened, and August and Taschen walked in. “What’s going on?” Taschen’s voice shook as if he feared the worst.
Zain couldn’t respond. He couldn’t do a fucking thing but pace. There was no way out of this. He wouldn’t fall for Maxine’s bullshit. They’d already tried to kill Dana twice—the likelihood of them letting her go after they’d kidnapped her, and he had proof, was zero .
If he gave Maxine everything Ghost had obtained, she’d still turn around and kill Dana. He had to find Dana without Maxine’s help.
But Dana could be anywhere by now.
Grabbing his phone again, he brought up the picture of Dana while Rami explained to Taschen and August what had unfolded.
Their angry voices gave Zain a little peace. For some reason, knowing he had a herd of pissed-off alphas on his side gave him hope.
Staring at the image of Dana brought fresh emotion to his eyes. He wanted to reach through the phone and rip off her bindings. To pull her through the screen and save her from another second of agony.
I’m coming, baby. I promise I’ll find you.
Dragging his gaze from her haunting face, he examined the room around her. She sat in what appeared to be a basement. There was a window about four feet above the ground and a piece of plywood in front of it. Cement walls boxed her in, and she sat on an ugly brown blanket.
There wasn’t anything else in the picture except a filthy floor and cinderblock walls.
Come on, give me a clue.
Taschen strode up and leaned over Zain’s shoulder. “Jesus.” He snatched the phone and gazed down at the photo of his sister. “Those fucking bastards.”
August appeared and he, too, looked at the image. “Send that to Ghost.”
Taschen forwarded the image. “I don’t know what information he can get from this. It’s just a basement.”
“You’d be surprised,” August said. “Not many newer homes in the Seattle area have below-grade spaces. I’d say this house was built before the eighties.”
“Yeah,” Zain said, “but I suspect a lot of houses were built before the eighties. I see where you’re going with this, but it’s not enough.” He broke away from the group and made his way down the hall to Ghost’s office.
The door sat partially open, and Zain knocked on the doorframe.
“C’min.”
Zain entered the brightly lit space. A black wrought iron desk with a glass top was in the center of the room, and a large window ate up the wall adjacent to where Ghost sat behind his computer.
Two brown leather chairs were positioned in front of the desk, and a tall indoor plant was nestled in the corner—probably thanks to Pearl; Ghost didn’t strike him as the type of guy who’d keep anything but himself alive.
“I got the text,” he said grimly, and motioned for Zain to sit.
“Think you can find anything from the picture to give us a location? ”
He lifted the corner of his lip. “Nah, not by itself.”
Zain’s shoulders slumped.
“But take a look at this.” He turned his computer monitor in Zain’s direction. “I’ve been tracing the vehicle. It entered a neighborhood in the northeast.”
Zain straightened. “That’s an older area.”
Ghost’s eyes flashed. “Exactly. I think we’re onto something, but finding the correct house will be tricky.”
“What about tracing the phone number?”
Ghost straightened. “Wasn’t the photo sent from your lady at the CIA?”
“I don’t know. She contacted me from an unknown number, and the text also came from an unknown number. But she wouldn’t be with Dana. When I called her about ten minutes ago, I reached her through her private line at the office in Langley.”
Ghost massaged his chin. “No shit.”
Zain opened the text and handed over his phone so Ghost could analyze the sender. “Can you trace it?”
He swished his lips to the side. “It’ll be tough. I’m sure they have the best firewalls in place, but I’ll try.” He glanced up, and Zain read hesitation in Ghost’s expression. “Not sure if I’ll be fast enough, though.”
Zain encased his impatience. “Get started. This is the only lead we have right now.”
Ghost began tapping on Zain’s phone. “And what are we gonna do in the meantime?” he asked, without looking up.
“Try to buy some time from Maxine.”
Brick entered the room. “I think I can help with that.”
***
Dana gulped down a mouthful of saliva and blood. The pain in her cheek pulsed across her head. With her hands braced beneath her, she scootched so she sat against the wall again. She was out of time and out of information. She grabbed the rope in her teeth and yanked until her jaw screamed. Panting, she stopped and jerked her arms apart until the loose loop of rope gave way some more. If she could stretch the loop over her hands, she could remove the rest a lot more easily.
Summoning strength, she caught the rope in her mouth again and tugged. Pulling her arms downward and away from her face, she had the loop over her hands a minute later.
She let out a shaky laugh. Holy shit. She was getting the hell out of here. Unraveling one loop after another, she shook her hands free. The binding dropped to the ground near the two puddles of vomit. She opened and closed her hands, pumping blood to her extremities.
She got to her feet, and her head swam. Steadying herself on the wall, she waited for the dizziness to pass. After a very early morning, being tased, vomiting twice with nothing in her stomach, losing a fingernail, and being hit in the head, she wasn’t in very good shape.
But adrenaline warmed her skin. Even the pain in her head lessened as she crossed the room and snagged the pail from the corner. She kicked aside the blanket on the floor and turned the bucket upside down. Hanging tightly to the windowsill as her baby finger screamed, she stood on the bottom of the bucket.
She grabbed the edge of the plywood, which was about ten by thirteen inches, took it down, and leaned it against the wall carefully so it didn’t fall and alert her captor. As she stared out the window, the sunlight made her squint.
A large crack split the glass. If she tried to open the window, the whole thing would break, possibly causing a lot of noise—not to mention making getting out of the window difficult. She’d end up filleting her flesh.
She examined the old single-pane glass. Breaking it the rest of the way would be easy, but messy. She bent down, grabbed the blanket from the floor, and wrapped it around her fist. Carefully, she knocked along the crack. The glass split even more, and a long triangular piece fell onto the sill.
The sight of the jagged edge made her ripple with excitement. She had a weapon now. Carefully, she picked up the glass, stepped off the bucket, and unraveled the blanket from her fist. After laying the glass on the material, she got back on the bucket and returned the plywood to its position in front of the window. Finally, she took the bucket back to the corner of the room.
She swallowed and stared at the glass. Her only chance at escape was to strike him hard enough to kill. His throat would be the best spot, uncovered and delicate. She picked up the blanket and wrapped it around the wide base of the shard then held out the sharp end.
Oh, yeah. That could do some damage.
Wariness filled her. The moments ahead could determine whether she lived or died. Whether she ever saw Zain again. Her heart swelled as she brought up Zain’s face in her mind’s eye.
If she didn’t succeed, she might not survive this. She’d never be held by him again. Never feel the comfort of his warm body or his gentle hands. He was everything her heart needed, and had she realized it days ago, she’d have told him that.
She’d have risked everything. She’d have even risked hearing he didn’t feel the same way—because now she stared death in the face.
Now, she might never see him again. Never see her family, get married, or have children. Dammit, there was still so much she wanted out of life. Starting with Zain.
Swallowing, she gripped the wrapped end of the glass tighter and slammed her shoulder into the door. “Let me out!” she screamed.
Nothing.
Bang!
She struck the old wood again. The hinges jumped. Again, nothing. Great, the asshole had probably left her here to die.
“Hey, moron! I have to pee!”
Bang!
This time the door threatened to give way. Footsteps slammed on the floor above, angry and hurried.
Dana’s lungs expanded and contracted rapidly as he came charging down the stairs. She stood behind the door, her breath coming hard and fast. She pictured his height, envisioned where to strike. If she missed, this could go very, very wrong.
Keys clanked. She gripped the glass, the sharp edges piercing the thin blanket. The door swung open and he stepped through. He came to a halt when he saw the empty spot beneath the window.
Dana lunged and let out a shrill scream, the cry of desperation shaking her vocal cords. He jumped and turned toward her as she drove the sharp end of the blade toward his thick neck. The glass moved across his throat, not penetrating.
Still, blood spurted from his neck, and he clamped his hand over the wound. “Fuck!” he howled.
Another scream wrenched from her throat as she dodged around him. He caught her arm before she made it through the door.
“Fucking bitch!” he spat.
She jammed the glass at him again, and this time the shard went right through the soft tissue near his armpit. He hissed in pain, spit flying from his mouth. She sliced downward and blood rushed forward.
His arm dropped, and he gasped and sputtered as he stared down at the glass wedged in his flesh. Dana turned and ran for the stairs. Her feet slapped against the wooden steps, and her heart pounded in her ears. The top of the stairs seemed to stretch farther and farther away.
She heard movement on the cement downstairs. A cry filled the back of her throat but she gulped it down, not wanting to waste an ounce of energy.
She slammed open the heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs. Her foot caught on the step and her hands and knees banged against the hardwood floor.
Her assailant’s footsteps pounded behind her. She threw a glance over her shoulder. A menacing scowl folded his brow, and his eyes glittered with loathing.
The scream tore itself from her lungs before she could stop it. She hustled to her feet and slammed the door shut, hurtling herself away. She only made it a few paces before it banged open as her captor flung himself onto the main floor.
Dana scampered down the hall, her brain racing as she tried to locate a way out. The long corridor led her into a small kitchen. A back door waited at the bottom of two stairs. She rushed toward it and yanked it open.
Warm fresh air hit her face. Her feet landed on the concrete stoop. She opened her mouth—
A rough force dragged her backward by her hair. She gasped and twisted against the searing pain. Her tailbone smashed against the floor.
Her captor leaned down, his face inches from hers. “You’re gonna wish you hadn’t fucking done that.”
Tears streaked her face. She clawed at the hand holding her hair, but he didn’t let go. Blood oozed down his neck and poured from his armpit. He’d ripped out the glass. His top lip lifted to reveal his front teeth. “Time to send your boyfriend a finger.”
“No!” Dana threw herself toward the door.
He slammed it shut in her face, nearly taking off her hand. His arm hooked around her waist and hauled her in the air. She kicked and bucked, but he carried her as if her strikes were no more harmful than a gnat.
Terror seized every atom in her body. She let out a shriek to shake the heavens.
The sound reverberated off the walls, echoing through the chambers of her hell.