Game of Fear (27 page)

Niko moved aside. “Let’s go. You’re almost out of time. Go to your computer desk and finish your assignment.”

Ashley rose and stared at him, but didn’t press further. She passed the tray of instruments on her way out.

“Don’t make me regret helping you,” Niko said softly, then opened the door. “He would have used them.”

Several armed guards marched down the hall, on alert, their weapons at the ready.

Niko shoved her into the corridor, then glared down at her. “Don’t try to remove that bracelet, Lansing. We’ve had enough of your tricks. It’s an automatic death penalty if you’re caught.”

One guard snickered and Niko gave her yet another hard shove in the direction of the computer rooms. “Walk faster. You have a lot of work to do.”

Ashley strode through the corridor beside Niko. Every third step, the bracelet around her ankle vibrated. Weird. It both tickled and hurt a little.

They finally reached the computer room and went inside.

No one spoke to her. In fact, a few even glared. She sat down at yet another new terminal. The monitor flickered on. She had to believe Justin and Dave would get to Deb. But could they do it soon enough? She had to have a backup plan. With a sigh, she straightened her crooked keyboard. An odd scraping sound followed the movement. One end of the unit tilted upward. A small piece of metal stuck out below the left edge.

Careful not to draw attention to herself, she placed her hand over the metal and grabbed it.

She fired up her computer and while it booted, she slid her hand to her lap and opened her fist. In her palm lay a tiny screwdriver with a very odd-shaped end. She didn’t recognize the metal it was made from, but she guessed what it was. Had Niko done this? When?

Even more important . . . why?

She pretended to cough and while bringing her hand back down from her mouth, slid the small screwdriver into the top of her bra. Her heart beat wildly. She swallowed hard to calm herself, even though that hurt like hell. If this meant that there was a chance she could escape, then she knew what she had to do.

She clicked various keys and entered the appropriate program. The subroutine she’d been working on in the background flooded the screen. It had taken forever to complete it. With the Warden and guards reviewing keystrokes, she’d had to go back and forth between commands so no one could infer her intent.

If she simply added this code, the program would leave a trail for the cybersecurity experts to follow.

She typed in a few keystrokes.

Immediately a red box flashed on her screen. “Don’t do it. They’ll know.”

She paled. Oh God. Someone knew. She closed her eyes. This was it. She deleted the keys and waited.

One minute. Two minutes. Five minutes passed.

Very carefully, she started back in. She had to be smarter. Yes. The administrative system. Just like before. Eat away at the program from the least likely point of failure. She burrowed in, keeping her regular program running on the surface. There had to be a way.

She half expected to be torn away from her terminal any second and dragged to the killing corner like Fletcher, but it didn’t happen. Terrified, but resolute, she planted the virus. The problem was, she had to trigger it live.

She’d just have to pray she could time it correctly.

If the virus remained dormant, nothing could be done to stop the Warden’s plans. Not unless Deb got here.

Eventually, they’d catch Ashley and she’d pay the price, but she no longer cared.

She was a Lansing, and maybe she couldn’t fight physically, like the rest of her family, but she certainly wasn’t defenseless. She had a brain that worked differently than most people’s. She’d always resented being so different. Right now, she was glad.

She, Ashley Lansing, sixteen-year-old brainiac geek, was going to take these suckers down or die trying. She would never regret being smart again.

She went back to her NSA program, knowing she’d have to give up the module tomorrow. Could she get word to Floyd about the virus in case they chose him instead?

The Warden had been keeping them far apart.

She’d have to play along until curfew. Then, maybe, Niko would tell her what the plan was and when she should take the ankle bracelet off. Two more kids had finished today . . . then disappeared. She didn’t know where they’d gone, but she didn’t think she’d see them again.

On a last-ditch prayer, she reset the security grids. The defenses they’d added to keep her out were laughable. But if she didn’t trip the sensors, then no one would know that the barriers would come down again tomorrow.

She only prayed she could find a way out and take some people with her, because as much as she loved her sister, she didn’t know if Deb could make it in time. Justin and Dave didn’t know they were set to be eliminated tomorrow.

Of course, if her sister had taught her one thing it was to never give up, never surrender. Okay, maybe that was the mantra from
Galaxy Quest
, but same difference. She’d fight to the end.

Ashley had one person to count on to get out of this place. And that was herself.

CHAPTER TWENTY

T
HE
L
EARJET
’
S PASSENGERS
had been deathly
quiet during takeoff.

Deb watched the others warily. Tension was so thick it was suffocating. The look Zach gave Gabe promised eventual retribution for keeping the existence of a half sister from him.

It wasn’t until Zach leveled off the plane for the short flight to the Winslow-Lindbergh Regional Airport, that the spell seemed to break.

Whitney pulled out a thick bunch of folders from her briefcase. “Gabe, I made you copies of some files on my Gasmerati investigation. I shouldn’t have.” She looked him in the eye. “I
really
shouldn’t have. Do you understand?”

Gabe nodded. “Then why are you doing this?”

“Because I want who killed Shannon to pay, and I think whoever did has killed a lot more. I thought there were a lot of victims, but I wasn’t making the connection directly to the game company until I spoke with you at my parents’ house today. I hypothesized that there was some serial killer who had met them online or something.”

Deb turned white. “Serial killer? Is that what you believe is going on?”

Whitney’s expression was sympathetic and Deb winced inside. Gabe’s sister told the truth as she saw it. She wasn’t about to pull punches.

Deb respected and feared that personality trait at the same time. With all her strength, Deb braced herself for Whitney’s judgment.

“I didn’t have any other explanation,” Whitney said, her voice cautious. “When I entered the Bureau two years ago, I started a little side project. I wanted to understand why Shannon died. Why our friends had vanished and were never found. I was in shock when the news hit that the car was finally discovered and they were obviously murdered. Until now everyone had simply vanished. Except Shannon. I thought someone must have become obsessed with good players and taken them.”

“Did you work with Dad?” Gabe asked. “From what we’ve learned he believed that the missing teens possessed unusually high IQs who were gifted in math and science.”

Whitney shook her head. “I never saw your father again after the night Shannon was murdered.”

“Hold on for one damn minute.” Zach’s voice boomed from the cockpit. “You were in Denver when Shannon Devlin got killed? That means you must have seen Gabe that night. What the hell, bro? How long have you known about her?”

“Leave him alone,” Whitney snapped.

Deb had to admire Whitney. She refused to be intimated by anyone.

“We were teenagers,” she said. “I was desperate so I contacted your father to help Shannon. When she was murdered, I was devastated. Gabe was, too, but not for the same reason. He stood up against your father. For your mother
and
your family.”

Gabe looked at her, really looked at her, and realized that his brothers’ lives had remained intact because of her keeping quiet all these years. Not just him.

“Why didn’t you ever contact us?” Gabe asked. “You could have showed up, or called, or put in an appearance at his funeral, which I’m sure you knew about. You seem to know a lot about us.”

“I couldn’t.” Her quiet voice filled the cabin. “You have to understand, Shannon’s mother isn’t my real mother.” A bittersweet smile tugged Whitney’s lips. “My mother’s name was Mariah Blackstone. She was a great mom, but she never wanted me to intrude on your life. When I was old enough she told me everything. It’s not like she and your father had a great romantic history together. A one-night stand that he regretted almost immediately does not a father make.”

Gabe coughed to cover his surprise.

“To put it bluntly, my mother thought of him more as a sperm donor than a love interest. I tried to do the same. After my mother passed, the Devlins asked me to live with them. Shannon had been my best friend since kindergarten. I was wanted there. It was for the best.”

Whitney turned to Gabe. “When I met you the night Shannon died, I knew you were shocked and angry about my existence. I understood. Your father never knew about me, but I had to try to save Shannon’s life, so I contacted him. I knew he was in law enforcement. It didn’t matter, though. She died anyway.”

“So my father just walked away from you?” Zach threw in. “Like you didn’t exist? Was he that big a bastard to ignore the only daughter he had?”

Whitney sighed. “Look, I don’t know the details. It wasn’t a frequent topic around the dinner table. I just know my mother never wanted me to be part of your lives.”

“But you were alone after your mother died. Dad would have taken you in,” Zach said.

“And he would have torn apart your family.” Whitney sighed. “But more importantly, it would have killed the Devlins. They’d just lost one daughter to a killer. I couldn’t tell the woman who’d become a mother to me that she might lose me, too, because I’d found my birth father. It would have devastated her. It just seemed better if Patrick never contacted me after that night, so I made him promise. I didn’t want to ruin her life, your life, or anyone else’s.”

“He just walked away,” Gabe said, barely able to take in the swarm of information. He didn’t know what he thought anymore. He looked over at Deb, and she gave his a small smile of support.

“You don’t know your father very well, do you?” Whitney said. “He kept his word about not being a part of my life, but he set up a small trust to help me get through school. I didn’t need your family to survive, no offense. I have the Devlins, and they love me like a daughter. I’m Whitney Blackstone, FBI agent, and I’m fine on my own.”

She pulled out a folder. “I’m here for Shannon, and for Ashley. I have an investigation to complete. If we can work together, that’s fine. If not, tell me now and we’ll end our association in Winslow.”

Gabe brought out some notes. “Ashley is my top priority, and we want justice for Shannon.”

Whitney nodded. “Okay then.”

“What’s in Winslow, sis?” He tacked on the moniker at the last minute. Damn if he didn’t like and respect this woman more and more as he got to know her. There was a lot of hurt under that prickly exterior and he’d caused a good part of it.

“Look, I’m not an expert on how shell companies are created and used.” Whitney’s voice had thickened, revealing she wasn’t as unaffected by their acceptance as she wanted them to believe. “But according to my contact, one has popped up on the radar recently at the FBI Organized Crime Program. Hundreds of millions of dollars have filtered through EOP.”

“EOP?”

“The name of the company. The FBI has traced it back to the Gasmerati family. Here’s the kicker. EOP has the exact same address as Intelligent Solutions, the company that sent Deb the game. EOP also owns a warehouse outside of Winslow, Arizona.”

“Isn’t Winslow, Arizona, one of the locations of Gasmerati’s top secret construction projects?” Deb asked, her voice eager. “Could Ashley be in Winslow?”

“I can’t be sure, but if my sister were missing, I’d want to know exactly what was going on in Winslow at EOP,” Whitney said. “And I’d also be interested that EOP is P.O.E. spelled backward.”

The flight hadn’t lasted long, but by the time Zach touched down the plane with ease, Deb had nearly scratched a hole in her pants. Her leg bounced, nerves wound tight.

Gabe tugged her fingers apart from his seat next to her.

Thankful he’d pulled her to the back row for the flight, she glanced over at him.

“I’m okay,” she muttered under her breath. “Is this almost over?”
Please God, let it be almost over. Let Ashley be safe.

Deb wouldn’t allow herself to consider the alternative.

“I hope so,” he said.

When Zach brought the plane to a halt, Gabe rose from his seat and checked his holster and ammo supply. “We make this simple, people. Find Gasmerati’s warehouse and get Ashley out.”

Whitney pulled out a slip of paper. “I arranged for a car. We’re looking for Rural Route 2, just south of the Navajo Reservation.”

“We go in quiet,” Gabe added, Deb standing at his side. “Whoever took Ashley doesn’t want her found.”

“What about the cops or Feds or something?” Deb asked.

Gabe shook his head. “We can’t trust them. Not after what’s happened in Denver with Tower.” He looked over at Whitney. “How about you?”

Whitney shifted, her entire body uncomfortable for the first time since Deb had met her. “I’m on my own on this one. I owe one huge favor to the guy who gave me the Gasmerati information as it is. I don’t have enough for a warrant.”

They really were on their own. Deb palmed the weapon Gabe had given her. “I’m ready,” she said. “Let’s find my sister.”

“I’m coming with,” Zach said, his face intent. “And I’m bringing a few toys. You guys draw more small metallic objects than a magnet. I want to survive to see my baby born.”

They exited the plane.

“How did Jenna take the fact that you weren’t coming right back from Angel Fire like you said?” Gabe asked his brother.

“For a completely hormonal pregnant woman, I think she took it pretty well.” Zach rubbed the nape of his neck. “As long as you guys bring me home safe, she’ll forgive me. Eventually.”

Gabe winced in sympathy. “You didn’t tell her we were shot at in Angel Fire, did you?” He shifted his arm. Deb had insisted he get the graze treated. A little antibiotic ointment and a bandage worked wonders. He could barely feel it.

“Hell, no. I’m not stupid.” Zach tugged out a high-tech gadget that looked like it came off a Hollywood futuristic set. Or at least out of the
Transformers
movie’s prop room. “So, we need to find a warehouse? This baby could locate the space station.”

Deb’s brow peaked. “Where did you get that tracker? Those are . . .
rare
.”

AKA classified.

“I know people.” Zach shrugged. “Besides, I’m not holding one advantage back until we find Ashley.”

“Thank you,” Deb said.

Gabe squeezed her arm. “Well find her.”

They piled into the waiting vehicle, stowing guns and ammunition in the back.

Gabe slipped into the driver’s side. “Where to?”

“Head north,” Whitney said from the passenger seat. She laid a map out on the dash. “It should be a large warehouse. Easy enough to spot.”

Deb sat behind Gabe, peering intently right, then left. She leaned forward and placed her hands on the back of Gabe’s seat. “How far?”

Five miles later, Whitney took another look at the map. “How could we miss it? It’s a huge building.”

Zach tapped the coordinates into his gadget again. “You sure about that address?”

Whitney double-checked her file. “That’s what it says. They could be lying. A lot of shell corporations do.” She looked back at Deb. “God, I’m sorry. I may have given you hope for nothing.”

Deb could barely breathe. Disappointment smothered her like wet wool. Her throat closed off. She couldn’t speak. She just gave Whitney a nod, pressing her lips together. She couldn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t. If Ashley wasn’t in Winslow, where was she?

“Don’t give up yet,” Zach said. “I’m pulling the exact coordinates. Maybe it’s underground. Let’s see what we can find.”

Gabe made a U-turn. Deb rolled down the window. The cold air blew into the car, but she had a clearer view. It did nothing to quell the growing fear that this was a wasted trip.

“Less than a tenth of a mile,” Zach said.

Deb squinted, finally spotting something dark and square on the ground, far in the distance. “Stop,” she shouted. “There’s a concrete slab or something man-made out there.”

Gabe slammed on the brakes, backed up a few feet, and pulled off onto a barely visible dirt road, driving up within ten feet of the desolate site.

They piled out of the car.

A huge, cleared area lay before them. The concrete—charred, pitted, and cracked—was slowly being reclaimed by the desert. There had been a warehouse here all right. They strode over to the remains of the manufacturing site.

Gabe knelt down. “Fire decimated whatever was here, and it burned hot.”

“Military grade,” Deb said. “I’ve seen it before in Afghanistan.” The truth that Ashley wasn’t here pierced Deb’s heart. She bent over, her hands propped on her quaking knees. “God, Ashley.”

Gabe tucked his arm around her. At least he didn’t say anything. God, where did they go from here?

“Oh man,” Whitney whispered from the center of the slab. She crouched down.

Deb stood up. She and Gabe started toward Whitney.

“Don’t move,” she said, her face grim. “We’re on a crime scene.”

Deb looked down at the ashes.

A small whitish bone poked out. Deb stumbled back, her body quaking. She shook her head. “It can’t be.” She fell against Gabe. “Ashley!”