Chapter 25 #2
No, Wyatt couldn’t be gone. He and Wade had escaped somehow. And since he’d called 9-1-1, the authorities had to be out there looking for them now.
Think, Nash. What else had Wolf conveyed?
He’d mentioned bids on the dark web. Several of them.
He’d said the kingpin of this underground trafficking ring stood to gain unfathomable amounts of money if he saw those bids through.
The henchmen who’d abducted them had most likely done this before, and chances were, they had a lot to lose if they messed up.
He’d said the top five bids had been accepted and that the dates, times, and locations had already been set.
Wolf had also said that while he didn’t yet know where it would all go down, he was sure it would take place outside of the U.S.
, which meant these guys would have to get at least Ellie, if not the both of them, on a boat or plane.
Whatever the case was, Nash needed to be prepared for when they opened the door.
It was his only chance to catch their captors off guard.
He hurried back to the garbage bin and secured the bottle that felt—to him—like bleach.
He unscrewed the lid and lowered his head to take the whiff.
Whoa, talk about pungent. His eyes and nostrils burned as he screwed the lid back in place.
Not bleach, but it was definitely toxic, which meant Nash had just found his first weapon.
And hadn’t he kept his pocketknife in his boot?
He checked, glad to find that it was, in fact, tucked into the pouch within.
The small knife wouldn’t offer much defense, but it could definitely help.
In fact, he realized he could use it to remove the narrow neck of the jug, meaning he could do a lot of damage with one good splash.
Nash wasted no time doing that very thing.
As strong as the chemicals were, he had to cover the open portion with his suitcoat to tamp down the fumes.
Once he broadened the opening, keeping the large handle intact on its side, Nash lowered the product, along with the suitcoat on top, back into the bin.
He secured the broom before hurrying back to Ellie’s side. He’d just unscrewed the bristled end from the wooden handle when the vehicle began to slow. Gravity shifted the slightest bit, and Nash thought he heard the distinct sound of a blinker.
Maybe they were getting off the freeway now if that was where they’d been.
The truck took a sharp turn and, for the first time since he’d come to, Nash heard a voice coming from the cab. The low rumble wasn't clear enough to make out any dialogue, but it indicated that the driver, who was male like Nash assumed, wasn't alone. Or, that he was now on the phone with someone.
A new level of panic pushed through Nash.
He hadn't expected them to stop so soon. In fact, he’d figured that by the time they did stop, Ellie would be awake, that she’d be able to run alongside Nash to escape.
He couldn't likely throw chemicals on the driver, stoop down to pick Ellie off the floor, and then hope to make an escape by foot past their captor.
Nash jostled Ellie's shoulder once more, massaging her arm as he whispered her name. "Ellie, it's Nash. Can you hear me?"
His heart thumped out of rhythm as he waited. Another sharp turn. A pungent whiff of the chemicals. Hopefully, the container hadn’t spilled.
“Ellie,” he urged again, rubbing her arm some more.
A soft whimper sounded from low in her throat.
Encouraged, Nash rushed in and brought his lips close to her ear. "It’s Nash,” he said under his breath. “Can you hear me all right?”
She nodded. “Mmm, hmm.”
She was apparently still out because if she weren’t, Ellie would be freaking out.
“Don’t panic,” he started, “because we have to stay calm, okay? But you were drugged, and right now, we’re in the back of a moving truck."
Ellie jolted and sucked in a breath. Nash moved back as she bolted upright, bringing a hand to her chest.
"It's okay,” he assured, “it's okay. You remember what happened, right? The patrol car, the moving truck, the accident?"
"Yes, oh my gosh,” she said, whispering as he had. “They got us? They have us trapped?"
"Yeah, but not for long. I think they're about to stop soon. Can you stand up?"
Ellie quickly brought her legs beneath her and moved to stand, but Nash stayed with her.
“Go easy,” he warned, wrapping an arm around her back. “Get to your knees first. You’re going to be groggy.”
She gripped the back of Nash’s dress shirt as she steadied herself on her knees.
“Good,” he said, “stay right here for a minute and take a few deep breaths."
She did as he said, then huffed out a big breath and groaned. "I feel like I’m going to throw up."
"If you are,” Nash said, “save it and barf on them when they open the door."
Ellie gave him that nudge with her arm. The action reminded him of all the times she’d done that to him before. He hoped he’d get to experience it for years to come.
"I’ve been kind of coming up with a plan of what to do when they move us out of here,” he said, “but now that you’re up, I’m sure we can think of something more. We need to buy ourselves enough time to escape, which means taking down the guy—or guys—who let us out.”
Ellie sucked in another gasp, seeming to remember something. She gripped Nash’s shirt once more. "Wyatt and Wade—where are they?"
Nash’s pulse spiked as that question hit him anew. He shook his head. "I don't know. I have no idea what went down with them or how these guys managed to get us in the back of this truck. But I do know that Wyatt and Wade are capable and strong, and they'd do anything to get us out of this.”
The truth of that struck him with new veracity. He did know that; they were in the armed forces, after all, noble men willing to put their lives on the line. Nash only hoped that hadn’t already been put to the test.