Chapter 18
Somehow, she’d managed to get through the call, and in the handful of hours since it had taken place, Cruz Livingston had shifted his team into high gear.
They’d come up with a plan to lay a trap at the small airfield where she was to rendezvous with the kidnappers and hand over everything her father had sent to her, in exchange for his life and that of his companion.
Rhys hadn’t liked it one bit, and Taylor didn’t need to be a mind reader to know he was still unhappy now, as he drove her from the ranch to the spot where they were to meet Livingston again, so he could hand over an attaché case containing what purported to be the flash drive and the papers.
The case would actually contain carefully doctored copies, while the originals remained safe in San Antonio.
Nick had been even more unhappy to let them go alone, despite the agent’s assurance his presence—or that of any other Spectrum operator—wasn’t necessary.
“In all the time I’ve lived here, I never even realized this airfield existed,” Taylor said, trying to lighten the mood in the pickup.
“I don’t imagine it gets as much business as the main airport,” Rhys replied. “Still, it does explain the timing of the meeting.”
Both they and Livingston had been caught unaware when the voice on the other end of the phone call had told Taylor to be at the airfield for eighteen hundred hours, and to bring with her everything her father had sent to her.
The voice—electronically altered but presumably belonging to one of the kidnappers—had also instructed her to come alone.
At that point, she’d frozen, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car.
Her instinctive reaction had been to turn to Rhys for advice—he’d mouthed a message to her to agree, so she had, vaguely aware of Livingston’s simultaneous silent agreement.
She’d had no idea what would happen at the airfield, but she trusted her man to know what he was doing.
“To allow them enough time to fly from Las Vegas.”
Rhys shrugged. “According to Livingston.”
The call from the FBI agent had arrived shortly after they’d parted company following the phone call at the post office.
His team had confirmed a flight plan had been logged for a private jet, departing Las Vegas almost immediately, with the destination being the public airfield on the opposite side of town from Honey Fields.
Given how little the airfield was used, it would have to be one hell of a coincidence for that flight not to have been connected with the call.
“How could they arrange it so fast?” The speed of it all had blown Taylor’s mind.
But not, apparently, Rhys’. “They probably had a plane fueled and ready to go. All they needed then was the call from you and confirmation of the destination. No matter where the cell phone ended up, they’d be ready to go within seconds of acquiring the location.
It’s what… nine hundred, a thousand miles between here and Nevada?
A private jet could easily cover that in two, two and a half hours or so. A long-range jet could do it in less.”
“What if I’d relocated to Hawaii?”
Rhys chuckled, in spite of the gravity of the situation. “It would probably have delayed the meeting by another three hours or so. Some executive jets have a range of over four thousand miles on a single fueling, so Vegas to the islands wouldn’t be a problem.”
“How do you know all this stuff?” Taylor was genuinely curious. In addition, it was a way of taking her mind off what they were driving into.
“In my line of work, it’s useful to know stats like that.” He glanced at the clock on the dash. “How are you doing?”
Taylor followed his lead, and with a sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach, realized how close they were to the meeting. “I’ve had better days.”
“Try not to let it get to you, because I’ll tell you now—it’s going to be all right. It won’t be easy but we’ll get there. Trust me.”
Taylor didn’t hesitate. “I do. How bad do you think it could get?”
When Rhys didn’t reply immediately, she didn’t know whether to worry about it more, or tell herself he was considering his response.
“Do you want the truth?”
Now that did alarm her, but it was what she needed to hear. “Yes.”
“For them, the stakes are astronomically high. They have everything to lose—a financial fortune, the gravy train they’ve been riding probably for years, their reputations… their freedom.”
Taylor’s mind raced ahead. Two plus two was making a four she didn’t like the sound of. “What if they examine the papers or the drive and discover they’ve been tampered with?”
“Unlikely,” Rhys replied. “Only someone intimately acquainted with the information would be able to spot it’s not the original.
Whoever’s on their way here, my gut feeling is they’re just the muscle—those responsible for embezzling from the company aren’t the type to want to get their hands dirty getting their data back.
They’ll want to put some distance between them and what’s about to happen. ”
“What if they decide to take us out anyway?”
“That’s why you won’t be alone. At the first sign of any trouble, Livingston’s team will intervene, and I’ll be there as well.”
Taylor groaned. “I can’t wait for this to be over.”
“Look, you need to go into this with a clear mind. Don’t overthink it. Livingston will have a strategy for dealing with this. Do what he tells you to do, and be ready to obey any instructions you’re given.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“In a way, it is. Look, we’re almost there.” He shot her a glance and winked. “It’ll be okay.”
A few minutes later, they arrived at the cluster of disused buildings outside the perimeter of the airfield, where they were to meet with Livingston and his team.
He was standing by a pickup, deeply engrossed in conversation with the three men, when they pulled up alongside.
The men disappeared as Taylor and Rhys exited their vehicle.
Livingston’s greeting was brusque and brief. “You’re early.”
“Blame me,” Taylor said. “I couldn’t stand waiting around.”
Livingston nodded. “Understandable. I’ve just given my team a final briefing. They’ll be in position before the jet lands.”
As if to illustrate the fact, two vehicles, obscured by the building, set off to cover the remaining distance to the airfield. Livingston watched them go, then reached through the window of his pickup and produced an attaché case. He turned back to Taylor and Rhys.
“It’ll take you approximately seven minutes to drive to the rendezvous point.
Proceed along this road—when you reach the fork, take the left.
You’ll see two, maybe three buildings in the distance—the largest is the hangar where the rendezvous is to take place.
” He checked his watch. “The jet should be landing in ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Their timing is perfect for an after-hours arrival.”
“What does that mean?” Taylor asked.
“The airport’s unstaffed. The main terminal building closed maybe ten minutes ago and the staff will be on their way home now.
I would guess they’re carrying enough fuel for the return flight, so they don’t need to interact with a refueling crew.
” Livingston explained. “Once they’re down, they’ll taxi over to the hangars, and we’ll be waiting for them. ”
“Makes sense,” Rhys agreed. “It restricts the possibility of witnesses.”
Alarm skittered down Taylor’s spine. “Restricts it but doesn’t eliminate it. My father, his… friend. They’ll be witnesses. So will I. Do you think they intend to kill all of us?”
“We won’t let that happen,” Livingston asserted.
“That’s why I’m going to be there.” Rhys made the statement in a manner that made it clear it was not up for debate. He stepped forward, planting himself between Taylor and Livingston. “I can help. I have experience of situations like this.”
Livingston nodded. “Thanks. Are you licensed to carry?”
Rhys lifted his jacket just enough to reveal his holstered firearm.
“Okay. Do me a favor and only use it if you have no choice. Got that?”
Rhys looked straight at Taylor. “I’m here to protect my woman, and if I need to use this to do that, then I’m doing it.”
Taylor shivered. When he referred to her like that, the warm fuzzies turned into something considerably hotter. Was she ever going to jump his bones when this was over.
Livingston looked from Rhys to Taylor and back again, then his expression underwent a subtle shift, as if he’d had some sort of epiphany. “Okay, I get it. I’ll take you through the plan, then we’d better get over there and take up our positions.”
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From his vantage point to the side of the hangar, Rhys had a perfect view of his brave, amazing woman.
After going through the detailed plan of action, Livingston had miked her up, complete with a tiny earpiece.
Rhys had been able to provide quiet encouragement over the comms link—in spite of the warning from the Fed to keep the channel clear for official use only—but she was still nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she waited beside the pickup.
Her gaze was riveted to the executive jet taxiing toward the designated hangar.
The jet came closer, slowly following an arc that would presumably line it up ready for departure.
As the plane completed its maneuver, Rhys flattened himself against the wall, to ensure he remained out of the line of sight of anyone on board who might be looking out of the windows.
Maintaining as low a profile as possible as he peered around the corner of the building, he grasped the butt of his weapon, withdrew it from the holster, and chambered a round.
He’d never been a Boy Scout, but he still liked to be prepared.