Behind the Lies (A Montgomery Justice Novel) (33 page)

A small, trembling body pressed against her back.

Sam. Oh, God, help them.

The vehicle took a hard left, fast. The movement slammed them against the cold metal.

A whimper sounded from behind her. She squirmed, desperate to touch Sam, but she couldn’t budge.

She felt for him and finally caught his little hand in hers. His wrists were bound with rope. He wiggled his hand against hers.

“Baby, are you hurt?” Her husky words filtered through the black.

“No. Scared,” he mumbled, as if something were stuffed into his mouth.

The vehicle jerked, slamming Jenna into the ceiling of their prison. They were moving slower now, and bouncing like they’d turned onto a back road.

Brad
. It had to be. But why treat them this way? She’d promised him she would bring the evidence. And why hurt Sam? She couldn’t believe he’d be this cruel to their son.

The rumbling of the car stopped. Jenna tensed.

The trunk opened.

A bright light pierced the darkness, blinding her. She blinked, but she couldn’t see the figure behind the beam.

“Brad?” she choked. “Why are you doing this?”

“Silence,” a voice said.

Not Brad’s voice. A voice with an accent.

The man grabbed her arm and tugged Jenna from the trunk. She fell to the ground then turned her head to get a view of her attacker. A mask covered his face. He pulled her up by the handcuffs, nearly dislocating her shoulders. She stumbled to her feet. He slammed the trunk closed with her son still inside.

“Sam!” she screamed.

He backhanded her. “Shut up.”

He shoved her toward a small, boarded-up dwelling. No streetlights. Trees all around. She had no idea where she was. Or how far from Gabe’s house they’d traveled.

How would Zach find her?

The man opened the door. “Sit.”

He pointed to a lone chair in the middle of a small, sparse room. The fetid smell of trash and mold overwhelmed her. She didn’t want to walk inside. Her entire body trembled.

The dilapidated shack—and it was a shack—screamed at her not to enter. She swallowed, looking right, then left.

“Sit.”

He slugged her again and forced her inside. Pain shot through her cheek. She fell to the ground.

He kicked her in the belly. “Chair. Now.”

She curled up into a ball. He grabbed her hair and dragged her across the room. She cried out in pain.

“No one can hear you,” he said, “but scream again and I will cut out your tongue.”

He lifted her onto the chair and yanked her arms behind her. She couldn’t prevent the yelp, but bit down hard to stop the sound. He unlocked the handcuffs and threaded them through the back of the chair. He then attached each of her legs by the ankle to the wooden chair. When he’d finished, she couldn’t move anything except her head and a slight bend of her wrists.

He stood, his breathing harsh. “Do you know why you are here?” he asked, his accent thick but clearly Middle Eastern.

“Brad?” she whispered, her voice questioning.

“Zane Morgan,” he spat. “Or, should I say Zach Montgomery?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will,” he said, and trained the flashlight in her eyes. She could see nothing behind him, and then a large shadow shifted toward the door, a stick in his hand.

“You will understand an eye for an eye.”

Brad stared across the street at Sammy’s, the bar Gabe Montgomery had purchased using a fairly mundane dummy corporation.

It had been simple enough for Brad to triangulate Jenna’s cell signal to a tower not too far away. She had to be here.

His phone rang. He glanced at the screen.
Damn it
. He couldn’t avoid the call again.

“I feel as if we’re having the same conversation over and over again, Mr. Walters,” the annoying voice droned. “Garrison is
still
alive.”

Brad cursed under his breath. He didn’t need this. Not now. “He won’t be for long.”

“So you’ve promised. Another job has come up, and I’m out of time or I wouldn’t be giving you
another
opportunity to fail. And Mr. Walters. Your payment will be half the usual rate until you prove yourself to me again. Screw this up and I’ll see that your reputation is worthless.”

Brad gripped the phone. They both knew his identity had been compromised. His life as Brad Walters was over—what was his client playing at?

He had to maintain control to keep her guessing.

“Location?” he said, through gritted teeth.

“The outskirts of Denver, very near where you are. This job should make you feel like a patriot. An Afghani terrorist has infiltrated the country. He will be in Golden, Colorado, sometime in the next twenty-four hours.” The specific coordinates came through as a text. “I want you to kill him, but I need an identifiable body for the authorities. Do you understand? You may have to get up close and personal.”

Brad sat stunned, watching the light that showed the conversation successfully recording and logging the number.
A government number that wasn’t blocked.

For the first time, his client had made a very big mistake. Elated, Brad watched the seconds tick by. No longer was he the puppet. Very soon he would become the puppeteer.

“I understand.”

“Notify me when it’s done.”

The call ended.

Brad drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, planning payback.

Suddenly, the door flew open and a gun pressed against his temple.

“Where’s Jenna?”

Zach’s finger twitched against the 1911’s trigger. He wanted nothing more than to kill this bastard. Instead, Zach tapped his earpiece. “I’ve got Walters. Keep searching. Jenna’s got to be nearby.”

The Chameleon stilled, his hands unmoving. The yellow streetlight illuminated the car. Denver and its suburbs never truly went dark. The nondescript man had kept the CIA, FBI, Interpol, and every other international spy agency completely baffled for a decade.

“Lost your edge, Walters?” Zach asked.

The assassin said nothing.

“Get out,” Zach ordered. “On the ground, arms and legs spread. You so much as twitch, you’re dead.”

Slowly, with deliberation, Brad eased out of the vehicle and lay next to the car.

Zach pressed the heel of his boot against the back of the guy’s neck. One wrong move and Zach
would
end him.

“Don’t kill him yet, big brother,” Seth said, striding across the street. He sidled up to Zach. “We can’t find her.”

Oh God.
Bile slammed into his throat. He briefly closed his eyes, praying he was wrong. He reached into the car for the keys and tossed them to his brother. “Check the trunk. Carefully.”

Zach pressed harder on Brad’s neck. If Brad had hurt Jenna or Sam…the bastard wouldn’t live another thirty seconds.

Seth checked for wires then flicked open the trunk. He looked inside, paused, and met Zach’s gaze.

Zach couldn’t breathe.

“Empty,” Seth said.

Zach yanked Walters off the ground and slammed him into the car’s side. “Where is she?”

The assassin blinked. “Last I heard she was with you.”

“We better take this inside,” Seth said, glancing around. “Too many eyes. Especially if we’re planning on encouraging him to talk. Accidents do happen.”

Knowing his brother was right, Zach shoved Brad forward. “Walk straight ahead. You so much as look in one direction or another, your brain splatters all over the parking lot and I won’t bother to clean it up.”

Brad raised his chin. “You clearly believe I have Jenna. You’re wrong. She wants to come back to me. She called about starting over. Be a family. She’s had her fling with you. It’s over.”

“Liar,” Zach said, his conviction unwavering. He knew his Jenna. Whatever love she’d felt for her husband, Brad had destroyed.

“Sucker,” the assassin laughed. “You’re in love with my wife. She reeled you in, too.”

“She’s not your wife, Walters…or should I call you Bobby Swinton?”

Brad stumbled slightly, and Zach got the satisfaction of surprising the Chameleon.

Just as they reached Gabe’s house, Luke shot through the door. “Zach, get in here. Now!”

Zach pressed the gun at the base of Brad’s neck. “Move it.”

Seth opened the door and snagged his duffel. He pulled out some zip ties to secure Brad’s hands and feet. “Sit down and shut up.”

“What do you have, Luke?” Zach could barely get the words out as he studied his brother’s pale features.

“I just received this,” Luke said, pointing to an e-mail on the laptop’s screen.

“A message for Zane Morgan, aka Zach Montgomery. An eye for an eye.”

Seth stared at Zach, in awe. “
You’re
Zane Morgan. Holy shit. You’re a freakin’ legend.”

“Most of it’s just rumor.”

“Bro, that dog don’t hunt no more,” Seth said. “But I understand why you chose to be a hero in disguise.”

“What I’ve done doesn’t matter. Click the link,” Zach ordered, his stomach roiling.

A fuzzy image showed on the screen. A Middle Eastern man stood in front of the camera. A man Zach knew.

“What the hell?” Zach shouted.

“Zane Morgan?” The man raised a photograph into the camera. “Remember these people?”

Zach squinted at the grainy picture. Two bodies.
Oh God
. Pendar and his wife, Setara, riddled with bullets.

“You recognize? Pendar was guilty. His wife…they k…killed her because she belonged to him. She was my sister and
you
killed her.”

The man stepped to the side. “An eye for an eye.”

Zach’s knees shook.

Jenna was strapped to a chair. Blood trickled from her mouth.

“You want your woman returned, Zane Morgan? Then you wait for my message. You come to me. Alone.”

The screen went black.

Z
ACH HEARD NOTHING
, only terror roaring through his mind. He reached out a hand and touched the black screen of Luke’s laptop.

The room was silent.

Zach struggled to breathe against the clamp of emotion squeezing his chest. Jenna’s desperate fear nearly stopped his heart. He had to save her.

With a shaking hand, he reclicked the link. The feed was gone.

Jenna was gone.

He rounded on Luke. “Tell me you can track the signal.”

His brother’s agonized expression shredded Zach’s hope.

“I won’t give up until I do.” Luke pounded on the keyboard for a few seconds, then muttered a curse. “Zach, you have to know…if he’s smart enough, I may need another feed before I can hone in.”

Zach’s eyes closed and he raised his head to heaven. That meant Jenna would be at the madman’s mercy. “Pendar was
executed
, Luke. I refuse to watch Jenna and Sam being gunned down over the damned Internet by the guy’s brother-in-law.”

Brad cut in. “What do you mean Sam? He wasn’t there.” The assassin stood, his face had gone pale. His hands tugged against the bindings.

“Tie him to the damn chair,” Zach growled, pressing the gun into Brad’s temple, “or I swear to God I’ll shoot him. For all I know the asshole that kidnapped her is working for Walters.”

“Think what you want, Montgomery, but I’d
never
put my son in danger like that.”

“Yeah, you’d only beat the crap out of his mother so he thinks that’s normal.”

Seth pushed Zach aside and grabbed Brad’s collar. “If Zach doesn’t kill you,” Seth said, smiling, “I’ll enjoy taking a wife abuser like you apart piece by piece.” The soldier slapped duct tape over Brad’s mouth. “I should let Zach kill you now. Be thankful we have more important business.” Seth glanced at his watch. “She disappeared less than two hours ago. They’re still in Colorado. He’d be hard-pressed to get her out of the Denver area and to another location, even via plane.” He looked at Luke. “We need more help.”

“I already sent texts to Gabe and Jazz. Once we locate this guy—” Luke sent a quizzical look to Zach.

“Farzam,” Zach replied. “His name is Farzam.”

“Right. Once we locate the asshole, we’ll need support.”

“What about SWAT?” Seth asked.

Zach paced back and forth. He shoved his hand through his hair. “I can’t risk it. I don’t know who in law enforcement we can trust. Not after the FBI involvement. We’re on our own to find them.”