Blowback (The Black Cipher Files Book 1) (36 page)

Zeke would still be able to pinpoint my location through the GPS on my cell phone.

I waited, still and watchful, on the platform for the next train. The new lights eliminated hiding places in the corners, so I carefully studied fellow passengers looking for potential threats. The Metro system had too much security in the stations and on the trains to make an abduction probable. The lights flashed on the granite platform edge indicating the train was arriving. I checked my watch. Five minutes had passed.

The ride took about twelve minutes. In that time, nothing major happened. Two teenagers, baggy pants, gold chains and Redskins caps argued about the noise from the one’s iPod, creating a distraction while a third lifted a wallet from a pair of tired tourists.

I mentally shook my head at the couple’s lack of safety sense. I couldn’t afford to get involved. I kept my back to the security cameras and held tight to the cell phone.

After the chime sounded and the doors slid open, I casually stuck my foot in the way of the third teen. She went flying, took a rolling dive and the wallet fell onto the granite platform. The tourists started yelling.

That ought to keep everyone busy and, hopefully, keep eyes off me as I strode toward the exit.

When I emerged outside, dusk was turning into early evening, that hazy time between the waning fall sun and the blanket of dark night. I headed around the corner, sat on a street bench, and dialed the man’s number. He answered on the first ring and immediately asked for my location. So he wasn’t watching. Or at least that was what he wanted me to believe.

The man’s voice was tense with anticipation. “Walk two blocks down the street and you’ll come to the Presidential Suites hotel. The downstairs restroom is off the pub. Pass the doorman and go directly to the restroom. No dallying.”

Once I hung up, I repeated his instructions for my listeners but didn’t get an answering click, which meant they weren’t in range. Shit. I didn’t see the van anywhere and finding parking was going to be a nightmare.

We’d debated whether one of the team should get on the train with me but I felt it was more imperative that my partners stay hidden. Now as I kept a slower pace than I wanted while walking toward the hotel, I wished I’d listened to Lucas.

As I made the solo walk, I wished I’d listened to him about more than op details.

At the hotel, the doorman opened the heavy brass door with a flourish and tipped his hat. The lobby was small but ornate. Persian hand-knotted rugs lay scattered across worn marble floors. In the fireplace, logs crackled and sparked. A settee and two wing chairs were grouped around an extravagantly carved coffee table with a large arrangement of exotic flowers spiking from a ceramic urn. Sconces adorned the walls, throwing off muted light and casting a warm glow over burnt orange walls and ornately framed portraits of former presidents.

“The lobby of the Presidential Suites is beautiful,” I said out loud, hoping for some confirmation they had a lock on me.

No answering click.

No one paid any attention to me as I headed toward the public restroom off of the pub. I opened the door cautiously then whirled inside. Against the far wall, adorned with satin wallpaper, stood an Asian woman.

It was her. Syringe lady, Susan, from the warehouse. “What a surprise.” One step closer to Bella.

Her features tightened. She looked tense and ill at ease. She held out a shaking hand, palm up. “Give me the key fob and you can go.”

I stared at her hard, wondering what her gig was. She hadn’t called me. The man had. I glanced around casually as if taking in the pink granite counters and solid brass fixtures. “Funny. I don’t see any hostages.”

“I’ll let them go,” she said. “Just hand it over and leave.”

Not a chance.
“What about the old man?” I leaned back against the cream-painted doorframe, crossed my arms over my chest.

“I’ll deal with Liam.” She firmed her lips together and then steadied her gaze on mine. “Trust me,” she implored.

Liam. The old man’s name was Liam. The scent of roses hung in the air along with wisp of disinfectant, making me nauseous. Something was really off here.

“Pass.” I straightened abruptly and Susan took a nervous step backwards. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Fine.”

“Where to?”

“Elevator.” She gestured for me to go down the hall first, then followed.

I noted she stayed a fair distance away from me. I supposed I could take her out now, force her to tell me Bella and Johnny’s location. But the area was too public and I couldn’t jeopardize their safety.

I stepped into the elevator, moved to the back corner, pressing my shoulders against the elegant wood paneling. A sign over the call panel indicated floors five through eight were under construction.

Susan ignored the sign and requested the fifth floor. I noted she kept her face in shadow, away from the security camera in the elevator. Neither of us spoke.

The doors dinged open and I arched a brow at her.

“You first.” Susan said, then directed. “To the end, last suite on the left.”

A tinge of smoke scented the hall. Visqueen hung from the ceiling, blocking off the hallway on the right. Susan stayed about ten feet behind me. Far enough so that when I stood in front of room 501, and hoped my backup heard me, I murmured, “501 blues.”

No click. Dammit.

I had to give them some time before I accepted I was on my own. The plan was to let my abductors become complacent. I would be cooperative and gather evidence against the kidnappers. Zeke would man communications and make sure we got the audio evidence to nail these guys while Lucas and Ramirez rescued Bella and Johnny.

Susan stood behind me. “Open the door.”

Tentatively, I turned the handle. The door swung open slowly.

“Come in, come in,” the old man said from the sofa. His cane leaned against the cushion and he held a Sig Sauer with a silencer in his hand.

I stepped warily into the suite, Susan lingering behind me. The hotel was clearly set up for two room suites with a living room and kitchenette in one room and a separate bedroom with a door that closed. Both rooms had access doors to the main hallway. The bathroom was to my immediate left. The living room and kitchen were bisected into two separate areas by forest green carpet and a neutral tan tile.

The kitchen had a stove, refrigerator, and sink, all in almond, in a compact triangle design. A breakfast bar in tan Granite gleamed under a trio of single lights hanging in a straight line.

The living area was directly in front of me, with a settee sized sofa, coffee table and two wing chairs. An armoire presumably held the television although the doors were tightly shut. To my far left was a connecting door. I could only hope Bella and Johnny were through that door.

The old man reclined in the corner of the sofa, dressed in Southern casual; a lightweight Seersucker suit in cheerful mint and white stripes couldn’t hide the miasma that coated his features.

He nodded to Susan, who stood a good six feet behind me. “Frisk her. Make sure to check for everything. Not just standard agency-issued weapons,” his voice was raspy with a slight wheeze.

They weren’t going to make any mistakes this time.

Neither was I.

I replayed his words.
Not just standard agency weapons.
Did that mean they were familiar with agency issue? Interesting.

Susan tentatively took a few steps toward me. She was the weaker link right now. And just because I was going to be cooperative didn’t mean I would roll over and play dead.

“You can’t shoot me. Hotel security would be here in a heartbeat.” Effectively, I let Zeke know they had a weapon. I took two more steps into the room, moving as if to go around the wing chair, shifting closer to that bedroom.

The gun came up a notch. “No. The fire last week damaged the upper floors and half of this floor.” He smirked. “We’re alone.”

Susan followed me, easing closer. I could see her in my peripheral vision on the right. Several times, her head shifted to the weapon in his hand.

“Sorry,” she murmured as she cautiously started patting my biceps.

I held my arms away from my sides, widened my stance and waited until I could see both of their eyes, watching for any flicker or evasion. “Where are the hostages?”

“All in good time.” The old man smiled a jovial, conspiratorial smile, but his eyes looked sunken and his face was pale. Despite the apparent bulkiness of his body, the skin on his head was shrink-wrapped to his skull and his cheeks had a hollow dip to them.

As Susan retrieved my blackjack from my belt loop, she glanced furtively toward the partially open door to the bedroom area. I tensed in readiness. I couldn’t seem too anxious about the hostages, or he’d understand how much they meant to me.

I stretched my neck as if working out kinks and tried to get a glimpse into the other room but the door was only open about six inches.

Susan faltered as she found the knife in the sheath at my ankle. While their gazes shifted to the wicked blade, I had one quick glance into the room and then I casually returned my focus to Liam.

I had barely been able to see into the bedroom. A four poster bed with a canopy had two bodies stretched out and tied to the bed posts. But I saw one bare foot with pale innocent pink toenails.

Another tiny detail had me rejoicing. I’d seen the subtle, slow rise of the covers indicated they were breathing. Something within me eased. Bella was nearby, and she was alive.

Susan reached into my pocket and found the phone. As she pressed the button to turn it off I realized she had forgotten to step out of my range of motion.

The temptation to head butt Susan, use her as a human shield and rescue my sister bubbled up. I could do it. Susan was tentative. Liam was old and obviously sick. My muscles actually twitched with anticipation. My heart beat slowed to a steady, reassuring thump.

Screw Lucas. Screw Ramirez, and Zeke, and Johnny. I didn’t need them to rescue Bella. \

I didn’t need anyone.

FORTY

But...even if I did overpower Liam and Susan, we wouldn’t get everything we came for.

If I went rogue, went alone, I was guilty of the hurtful things Lucas had said. Protecting myself.

I’d given an unspoken promise to Jordan Ramirez that we’d find out what we could about Staci. And Lucas had trusted me to help him get Johnny.

I had to let go and trust they would show up. But it didn’t mean I would be a doormat. “Hmmm. You think you missed any?” I taunted.

Susan found my gun and the ten clips wrapped around my waist, paling at the amount of firepower I’d brought. Score one for me. I’d wanted them so focused on the weapons they’d overlook the transmitter.

There was also an added bonus if they missed one.

Susan had placed each successive find in a bag on the floor. Though I kept my gaze on the firearm in Liam’s hand, peripherally I noted she slipped my Glock into the back waistband of her pants, underneath her black twinset cardigan.

“No keys,” Susan said tensely.

The flash key was hidden in the collar of my shirt.

“Tie her to a chair,” he said. “And make sure her hands are behind her back. Securely.”

Susan dragged a ladder back chair from the kitchen area, the legs screeching over the tile floor until she reached the edge of the carpet. She pushed me gingerly into the chair, curved my arms around the wood back, and cuffed me. The plastic restraints pulled at my deltoids.

“Where is the key fob?” he demanded.

Time for me to push back. “All in good time, Liam.”

“If you know who I am,” his smile disappeared, “Then you know, you don’t want to mess with us.”

But I had no idea who these two really were. “Who are you?”

Neither responded verbally. But syringe lady pulled out her trademark. I eyed it warily. “What’s in the syringe?”

“Something to keep you docile and forgetful,” he said.

Could it be the antidote? I’d been so focused on my sister, I’d forgotten the other reason I’d come here. I wanted that antidote.

I stared determinedly at the long thin needle as she tiptoed cautiously toward me. Whatever they had given me had messed me up badly these last few days. I needed to return to my calm, controlled and unemotional world. I needed to get rid of this ache in my heart from Lucas. Like a magic pill, one shot from the needle and it would all go away.

I needed my old life back.

But even as I had that thought, I knew I didn’t want it back. That Jamie was alone. The new Jamie had...a team, friends, a lover. Not just a one night stand.

The tiny prick shouldn’t have made me flinch.

As the cool liquid squirted into my veins, I relaxed. One way or another it would all be over soon. Almost immediately, the Sodium Pentothal and Rophynol effects began to skew my perception. To throw them off guard, I started asking questions, praying Zeke was getting the transmission.

“What were you going to do with the information you collected? Sell it to the highest bidder?”

“Of course not.”

Susan flipped on the lights over the breakfast bar and the bright fluorescent beam bored into my eyeballs, driving imaginary nails through my skull. “Don’t believe you. That information would be a gold mine on the international criminal market.”

“Our goal was not espionage,” the old man snapped.

I said slyly, “But you could make a fortune.”

“I don’t want money.”

“What do you want?”

His eyes lit up. “To make a lasting contribution, a legacy.”

“What legacy?” I could see the pride in his face, hear it in his voice. He wanted to brag. And I could hope this stall was completely recorded.
Come on, asshole. Tell Jamie all.
“Go ahead.”

“I’m a scientist.” He wheezed out a cough which turned into a long hack, his face turning a violent shade of purple. When he was composed again, he said, “I’ve developed a drug that enhances the performance of field agents.”

I blinked, feeling the drugs wind through my system, my arms and legs becoming fluid and boneless.

“You could be the first in a new group of über-agents. Better counter-terrorism, better armies, better intelligence, safer country.” His voice trembled with self-congratulation. “Stronger in every way.”