22. The Rescue
THE RESCUE
GAbrIEL
Gabriel sat in the Black Site’s conference room staring at the tracker. Still no sign of Halston. He hadn’t moved since he’d gotten there, forty minutes ago.
The giant pit in his stomach had morphed into full-blown concern.
Teddy and Sydney arrived minutes after him. Sin and Evangeline got there next.
“Show me how I can pull up the wedding ring history, so I can see where Halston was earlier today,” Gabriel said.
“It’s live signal only,” Sin explained. “Crockett and his team are working on a new version that shows the last hour.”
“That won’t help me now,” Gabriel bit out as he silently willed Halston tracker blip to appear on the screen.
He lost track of time until commotion had him glancing up.
Greystone and Caroline hurried in. While Teddy updated them, Gabriel left the conference room to pace in the silent corridor.
Sitting and staring at a screen was making him crazy.
He was a man of action. Hunting down the enemy and taking them out.
That was his MO. He was relying on technology that didn’t work.
Both the chip in her neck and the wedding band ring had failed her…
and him. Both Teddy and Sydney had talked him out of going to the embassy, but…
He strode into the conference room. “Teddy and Sydney are right. I can’t go to the embassy, but someone else could.”
The team grew silent, all eyes on him.
“I will,” Sin said.
“Do you know the ambassador?” Gabriel asked.
“No, but someone will set up a meeting for me.”
“What’s your agenda?” Gabriel asked.
“I don’t need one.” A sardonic smile lifted his lips. “I’m the Fixer. No one says no to me.”
Evangeline cracked a smile. “His ego is enormous, but he’s got a point.”
Sin made a call, set his phone on the table. Three rings later, a man answered. “Secretary of State’s Office. How many I direct your call.”
“Sinclair Develin for Secretary Arnold.”
“Mr. Develin, Secretary Arnold is in a Cabinet meeting.”
“I’ll call back.” Sin hung up, made another call.
Two rings later a man answered, “Sin, now’s not a good time.”
“Secretary Arnold, leave the Cabinet meeting,” Sin said. “It’s an emergency.”
“I’m with the President.”
“Put President Garrison on then. I need help now.”
Seconds later, Secretary Arnold said, “I’m gonna hear about this from the President.”
“I need a meeting with the Russian Ambassador in the next hour,” Sin said.
The Secretary laughed. “Call the damn embassy, Sin.”
“This is an emergency—”
“I need details—”
“I can’t discuss the mission. Make the call. I’ll hold.”
“Fuck,” Arnold hissed before the line went silent.
“I could have called the President,” Greystone said.
“Let me get eyes on the ambassador first,” Sin pushed back. “Then, we’ll head to the White House.”
“I’m concerned Halston will be dead by then,” Gabriel seethed. “This is not happening fast enough.”
“We’ll find her,” Greystone said.
“Sin,” said the Secretary. “The ambassador is off-site. Same with his assistant, Minka Kotov. I asked for the Deputy Chief of Mission, Natasha Petrova, but she’s out too.”
“Where are they?”
“You’d have to call the embassy and ask.”
“You should have done that for me.” Sin hung up.
BING!
Gabriel bolted to his laptop, eyed the screen. “I got a hit.” He zoomed in on the location, screenshot the image. “She’s in the middle of a wooded area in Ashburn.” He dropped a pin on the location, texted himself the screenshot before eyeing the team.
“I’m out,” Gabriel said. “Who’s with me?”
“We gotta weapon up,” Greystone said as he pushed to his feet.
Gabriel had on Kevlar. He was armed with his CANiK. His long rifle was cased in his truck.
“Do what you gotta do. I’m gone.”
“You gotta wait—” Greystone blurted.
No, I don’t.
Feeling the pressure bearing down on him, Gabriel bolted down the hallway. He had no idea how long Halston would be outside. Was she alone? Injured? He took off in a full-on run.
Please Lord, let her be alive.
He waited while the sliding glass door opened, then he flew into the oversized hangar.
Someone was blocking him in, so he grabbed his long gun case from his truck, jumped behind the wheel of an ALPHA SUV, and started the engine.
A full tank of gas, so he tapped the remote built into the rearview mirror and waited for clearance.
Out he drove. Another tap to close the door, then he pulled up her pinned location. Two buildings—a convenience store and gas station—stood two miles from her. He set his GPS, tapped the app for the ring tracker. Halston’s blip was still visible.
He floored it out of the parking lot, not bothering to slow as he drove down the street, onto the dirt road, then through the upscale neighborhood. Once on Route 7, he checked his arrival time.
Thirty fucking minutes.
I can make it in fifteen.
Failure was not an option. He would find her and get her out. No matter who was there, no matter the danger he was walking into. Determination had him driving faster, but when he got behind a slowpoke in the fast lane, he changed lanes, picked up speed. The miles ticked by, as did the minutes.
Eighteen minutes later he’d blown by the suburban neighborhoods, the foliage and landscape turning rural. His GPS alerted him that he was approaching the convenience store. The building was dark, so he continued on, trying his best to figure out where to turn.
He took a hard right on a road, but it dead-ended within fifty yards.
Dammit.
He drove out, then took the next right. A single lane country rode. After two minutes, the paved road ended and he drove on a road of dirt. The area grew thick with forest. His gut said he was on the right path… until the path ended with nothing… again.
“Dammit!” he shouted. “Halston, where are you?”
He tapped on the app.
She was gone.
HALSTON
Halston wanted to pull out her hair.
“What do you mean, you don’t want to leave?
” she asked one of the scientists. “You are prisoners being tasked with doing something horrific. If we don’t leave now, you won’t get a chance later.
That insane woman is coming back. She’s bringing a power-hungry Russian who shot his own ambassador.
I can assure you, he won’t hesitate killing all of you. ”
“I’m not leaving,” repeated the soft-spoken scientist. “I think we’re safer here doing what they want.”
“Who’s coming with me?” Halston asked, her patience depleted.
Everyone, but the one, raised their hands.
“We need to move Lars,” Halston said. “Can two of you do that and bring his meds?”
Her dad and another man strode into the back room.
Halston hurried toward the exit. She opened the door, turned back. “If you’re coming, follow me.”
The single light over the door illuminated her way until she rounded the corner. There, pitch blackness made it impossible to see well. With her hands in front of her, she slowly made her way to the first van, the one filled with their luggage.
“Who can drive this?” Halston asked.
The husband of the female scientist said, “I would, but I’m not from the US, so my driver’s license is invalid.”
My god, these people are extreme rule followers.
“Whoever feels comfortable driving the van, get behind the wheel.”
One of the scientists approached her. “I can. I will follow you.”
Crunching leaves had her peering behind her as her dad and the other man helped Lars over.
“Everyone file in. Hurry!” Halston hollered.
As the group made their way into the passenger van, it occurred to her that the van keys might be with the dead Bratva. She waited for everyone to climb in out of the cold and take their seats.
After sitting behind the wheel, she checked. No key in the ignition. Wasn’t in the cupholder either.
“We need our phones,” she said. “Where are they?”
“In the other van,” her mom replied.
“I need to call for help, then check the dead guy for van keys.”
“They aren’t there?” asked one of the scientists.
She opened the glove box. Nothing. She checked under the seat. No keys there either.
“Two people, come with me.” As Halston made her way out, an approaching vehicle’s headlights blinded her.
Her heart sank, her guts twisted.
I am so dead.
Squinting, she raised her arm to block the light.
A door opened. Natasha stormed over, slapped Halston across her face. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Halston smacked her back.
Hard.
Natasha screamed, then went to strike her again. Halston grabbed her wrist.
“You touch me, you’re dead,” Halston seethed.
“I’m the one with a gun,” Natasha said.
Halston had the Bratva’s weapon tucked into the back of her waist beneath her suit jacket. She’d hang on to that secret for the next few minutes. First, she needed to find out who Natasha had brought back with her.
The driver’s car door opened. Dmitri Petrov groaned as he pushed his large self out. He stood in front of the vehicle and crossed his arms. Backlit by the headlights he looked like the devil personified.
A shudder streaked through her. He’d shot the ambassador. She fully expected he’d pump her with lead, then dump her body in the woods.
Irony.
“Hello, Minka.” He made his way over, glared down. “Minka is not your real name, is it?”
“Get them to building,” Natasha said to Petrov. “They finish job. We deal with her after.”
Petrov pulled a gun, waived it at the van’s occupants. “Get out!”
With fear bursting from their eyes, the hostages made their way back into the building.
Yes, this was a setback… a big one. But she wasn’t giving up. Natasha’s sharp slap across her cheek had been a wakeup call. People were going to die tonight. She had to do everything possible to ensure it wasn’t the hostages.
At gunpoint, the group was ushered over to the conference tables.
“Finish job,” Petrov barked.