The Circle of Eight (10 page)

“Let
go!” yelled the driver as he swerved, trying to maintain the high speed turn he
was in as he was about to merge onto the highway.

Sylvia
pulled harder.

The man
grabbed at her fingers but she clenched them into fists, tucking her thumb
inside leaving nothing for him to grab. His slaps were getting weaker as the
driver still fought for control.

“Buckle
up, honey!” she yelled and Jenny immediately grabbed the lap belt of the center
seat, snapping it securely. “Make sure it’s tight!” Jenny pulled on it then
looked at her.

“It’s
tight.”

She
kicked out with her left foot and clocked the driver in the side of the head.
His hands flew from the wheel leaving it to immediately spin and straighten
out. Realizing his mistake, he grabbed the wheel again, quickly turning it to
regain control, but instead caused the SUV to tip onto the driver’s side wheels.

She
kicked again.

The
vehicle tipped over, skidding on its side until it hit the edge of the road
where the pavement lip of the highway caught the edge of the SUV and overturned
it, the momentum causing them to flip several times, how many Sylvia couldn’t
count. She simply closed her eyes, maintained her grip on the man’s neck with
her cuffed hands, and shouted for Jenny to hold onto her.

Her head
smacked the side window and she felt herself begin to black out, her arms still
outstretched, strangling one of those who would kill her and her baby. She felt
something give on the handcuffs, as if the man’s neck had finally broken, or
something was crushed. What, she didn’t know, her mind now a fog.

All she
knew was Jenny was still alive because her screaming hadn’t stopped.

Operations Center, The Unit, Fort Bragg, North Carolina

Dawson watched the traffic camera footage of the SUV losing control,
then flipping over several times. The fact there was no movement afterward gave
him mixed feelings. If the abductors were alive or mobile, they’d have climbed
out by now. But so would have his sister.

“I’m
heading to Richmond. Call me if you find out anything on my sister or niece.”

“Yes, Sergeant
Major,” replied the tech, his voice subdued.

All eyes
were on Dawson as he left the room, marching toward his Mustang, ignoring all
those around him. He rarely got emotional, rarely shed a tear, but this was his
little sister. This was the little girl who had looked up to him her entire
childhood, who had cried when he left to join the army, refusing to let him go,
who had given him a niece that he adored, and still called him once a week to
make sure he was okay.

Calls he
was usually unable to take, and failed to return far too often.

It’s
when you lose someone that you realize how you had taken them for granted,
mistreating them through inattention. The assumption was that they would always
be there, that there was always time to tell them how much you appreciated
them, how much you loved them. But once gone, torn from your life unexpectedly,
it was too late. You prayed they knew how much you really cared despite your
actions, but it left you wondering if they died thinking of the phone call you
didn’t return, or the phone call you ignored when they knew you were home.

He
climbed into his car, revved the engine and squealed from the parking space, a
single tear rolling down his cheek, unnoticed.

I
swear to you, Sis, that whoever did this to you will pay.

Red
stepped out from between two cars, holding his hand out. Dawson slammed on the
brakes and Red climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where
we going?”

“Richmond.”

“Figured.
The guys are waiting at my place for your orders.”

“Call
them, put them on speaker.”

Red
dialed his home number and immediately it was answered.

“This is
Niner.”

“Let me
put you on speaker.” He hit the button then held the phone between him and
Dawson as they both rolled up their windows.

“Who’s
there?” asked Dawson.

“Everyone.”

“Good.
Here’s the sit rep. The colonel has said we all need some vacation time and
suggested we go hunting in Switzerland. I think it’s a fantastic idea. Agreed?”

A round
of agreements burst through the phone.

“Good.
Now here’s the immediate situation. My sister and niece were kidnapped by men
posing as FBI agents. They were just in a car accident, I don’t know the
situation yet but I’m heading to Richmond with Red. We liberated some files
that I’m going to need someone to copy for us.”

“I’ll
meet you outside,” said Atlas, his impossibly deep voice not so deep on the
tiny phone speaker. “I’ve also got your ‘go’ bag here for you.”

“We
found yours too, Red,” said Niner.

Red
turned the phone slightly toward himself. “Good. ETA three minutes.”

“I’ll be
outside,” said Atlas.

Dawson
spun the wheel as he gunned it out of the parking lot.

“Jimmy,
Niner. You two find out where Professor Acton is. This has something to do with
that damned symbol. I want to know what the hell it is, and he’s the man most
likely to know.”

“Will
do.”

“Spock,
pick three men, meet us in Geneva. I want all the traffic camera footage you
can find of Maria’s supposed suicide, and all the data you can find of the
murder of the Inspector’s family. Keep an eye out for that symbol. They don’t
know to look for it.”

“Got it,
boss.”

“The
rest of you I need here. Casey, I assume you’re going to want to work on the
funeral arrangements for Stucco. The rest of you help him when he needs it. But
I need you guys to be our Ops Center. Set up in a secure location, tap into
anything you need to tap into. I want to find this bastard Lacroix, what kind
of connections he has, what his game is. We’re taking him down. Understood?”

A
cacophony of replies came back, the individual responses hard to hear, but
their meaning clear.

“Good. Atlas,
you’re in charge here. Red and I are going to secure my sister then we’ll join Spock
in Geneva. Good hunting gentlemen.”

Red ended
the call as Dawson screeched to a halt in front of Red’s house, Atlas waving them
down. The massive man tossed the two go bags in the trunk then took the files
from Red.

“Red filled us in earlier so we took action. Charlie’s
plane is waiting for you at Fayetteville Regional with instructions to get you
to Richmond ASAP. I’ll copy these then have a set waiting for you when you land.
Thor will meet you with a vehicle.”

Dawson
shook Atlas’ hand then floored it, pleased that Brad “Thor” Inglethorp, a
retired member of The Unit from about ten years ago was their point man in
Richmond. He was a good man who had lost part of his foot on an op when a stray
50 caliber round had found him. Dawson wondered if his thick mane of long
blonde hair that had earned him his nickname was still as golden as it once
was.

Or as
grey as he now felt.

He
glanced at Red.

“Call
the Op Center and see if there’s any word on my sister.”

Chippenham Parkway, Richmond, Virginia

Sylvia groaned, her head pounding, the taste of iron on her lips.
She opened her eyes and blinked her surroundings into focus, and as she did so,
realized why she felt so disoriented.

She was
hanging upside down. There was no movement in the vehicle, their two abductors
still in their seats. Her hands were still hooked around the passenger seat
occupant’s neck, her wrists aching from the strain.

“Mommy?”

Her
heart leapt as she heard Jenny’s voice. She looked to her left and Jenny was
still belted in, her two hands hanging onto her mother’s seat belt to stop herself
from falling down to the roof of the upturned vehicle.

“Are you
okay, honey?”

“Yeah.
Are you?”

“I’m
fine.”

“But
you’re bleeding.”

“I just
bumped my head, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

“But
you’re bleeding from your arm too.”

She
looked and saw a lot of blood on her left arm, dripping down onto the clothed
roof liner. Something was sticking out of it, a piece of wood or something. She
followed it and realized it was a piece of a traffic sign that had punctured
the front window, the shredded end where it had broken in half now partially stuck
in her arm.

This
isn’t good.

She
examined the wound as best she could with her hands cuffed. It was bleeding,
but not profusely, suggesting it had missed the artery. A moan from the driver
seat made her decision for her. They had to get out of here, which meant the
pole had to be removed.

“Mommy
needs your help, okay?”

Jenny
nodded.

Terrified.

“I want
you to take the piece of wood that’s in Mommy’s arm, and pull it straight out,
okay?”

Jenny nodded,
letting go of the belt with one hand, then unbuckling her own belt, flipping
head over heels and landing on her knees as only young children could without
hurting themselves. She grasped the pole and Sylvia nodded.

Jenny
yanked and Sylvia screamed as the pole came out.

“Don’t
stop!” she yelled as she felt Jenny hesitate.

She
continued to pull and Sylvia felt the pain immediately ease. She opened her
eyes and saw her arm was free of the pole. It looked like a broken shard had
embedded itself about two inches. She knew enough to know that her brachial
artery wasn’t severed—if it were, she’d be dead—but it might be nicked.

“Can you
reach Mommy’s belt buckle?”

Jenny
nodded, her face tear stained.

“Unbuckle
me.”

“You’ll
fall.”

“It’s
not far.”

She
heard shouts outside then saw feet and legs through the window.

“Are you
okay in there?”

“Help!”
she yelled. “We’re trapped in the back!”

She saw
two people at her window and heard the door being yanked on. Suddenly it
opened, fresh air and the evening sun pouring in.

“I’m
wounded in the arm,” she said. “I’m a nurse, I’ll need—”

“I’m an
off duty EMT. Don’t you worry, ma’am. I’ll have you out of here in a few
seconds. Can you move your arms and legs?”

“Yes.”

“Any
pain anywhere?”

“Just my
head from where I hit it, and my arm where the traffic sign punctured me.”

“No pain
when I do this?” he asked as his hands went over her body, feeling for broken
bones.

“No.”

“But you
can feel it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,
we’re going to get you out of there now.”

He
unclipped her seatbelt, his arms gently lowering her. He freed her of the belt
and she was able to reposition herself so she could free her cuffed hands from
around the throat of her abductor without anyone noticing.

Two sets
of hands lifted her out then lay her on the pavement. Jenny scrambled out on her
own, holding his mother’s hands.

“Hey sweetheart,
how are
you
feeling?” asked the EMT.

“Fine,”
replied Jenny, looking away.

“Hey,
this one’s dead!” called another voice. She looked to her right and saw someone
had the passenger side door open, shaking his head at what he saw.

She felt
the EMT tie off her arm with a tourniquet, wincing as he did it.

“That
should hold until the ambulance gets here. She could hear sirens in the
distance.

“Hey,
what’s with the handcuffs?”

Her
heart raced and her eyes flooded with tears.

“Are you
a prisoner?”

The EMT
seemed to back off a bit, his face one of shock.

“We were
kidnapped,” she said.

“Uh
huh.”

It
didn’t sound like he believed her.

“This
one’s alive!” called the other voice, sounding more distant. She looked to see
several people gathered on the other side of the vehicle.

“Help
Mommy up,” she whispered to Jenny. Jenny pulled on her good hand so that she
was now sitting up. She rolled onto her knees, Jenny pushing with all her might
to keep her from falling forward, then between the two of them, she managed to
sit up right on her haunches. One final push and she was on her feet, rushing
across the road, Jenny in tow, toward a row of thick trees.

“Hey,
where are you going?” yelled someone.

She
didn’t look.

“Keep
going!” she said to Jenny in a harsh whisper. “Don’t look back!”

They
made it to the trees and through an opening revealing some sort of abandoned
construction or demolition site, packed dirt and rubble strewn about. The trees
continued to the left, blocking their view from the road they had just crossed.
Ahead she could see a house and other buildings they might be able to hide in.

Fortunately
her legs were working fine, but she was weak. She couldn’t raise her cuffed
hands to apply pressure to her wound, the blood still dripping from her elbow
onto the ground.

A
trail!

There
was nothing she could do about that. She needed to get to a phone and call
Burt. That was her only hope. She reached the house, the driveway empty save a
covered car that looked like it hadn’t been moved in years. She hammered on the
door, but the only answer was the bark of what sounded like a huge dog. She
knocked again, and there was no retort of an occupant telling the dog to be
quiet.

And with
the dog, there was no breaking in.

They
rounded the house, a quick glance behind her showing no one pursuing them.
Behind the house was a large yard then open space, a few cars parked to the
side of a thin paved portion, this obviously meant to be used as a parking lot,
for what she didn’t know.

Then she
gasped as she saw the spire proudly thrusting into the air.