Out of Reach: A Novel (22 page)

“General Neville.”

Erin sighed. Maybe not Cody, but another boy caught beneath Neville’s thumb. “Okay, Ryan, let’s get you out of here.” She reached out to touch him. He winced, and she noticed the dressing on his arm. “What happened?”

“I was trying to run, and one of the dogs caught me.”

“And your face?”

He shuddered. “No, that was Trader.”

Erin understood his fear and held the flashlight beneath her face so he could see. “I think I met him as well. Come on, we’ll get you to a hospital.”

Behind her, she could hear Donovan talking into his cell phone, calling for backup and an ambulance.

“Wait,” Ryan said. “Cody needs your help more than me.”

Erin went very still.

“Cody?” Donovan stepped into the stall.

Ryan focused on Donovan. “Trader is coming for him tonight, and they’re going to send him away. Out of the country. You’ve got to help him.”

“Where is he?” Donovan asked, crouching down beside Erin.

“In the mansion.”

“Do you know where?”

Ryan hesitated. “I think so. But after we tried to run—” He shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

“Cody tried to run, too?” Erin said.

“Yes, but the dogs caught us. Then the guards locked me in the cellar, but they probably just put Cody back in his room.”

“Was he hurt?”

“I don’t think so. But you’ve got to get him out.” He looked from one to the other of them. “Herrick said he couldn’t do anything, but you could. He said to tell you he’d take care of the cameras.”

Erin looked to Donovan and saw the resignation and determination in his eyes. They were going in, and to hell with the consequences. This was all the push, all the incentive, they needed.

XXX

A
LEC WOULDN’T TRADE
one child’s life for another.

So he and Erin waited for the ambulance, despite Ryan’s insistence that they didn’t have time. Once the paramedics had arrived, along with a couple of local police cars, he knew the boy was in good hands, and it was time.

Alec and Erin headed toward Neville’s estate.

As they drove, they went over their plan, what there was of it. Basically, they were counting on Herrick shutting down the cameras long enough for them to get in, grab the boy, and get out before anyone noticed.

Of course, Alec knew it wouldn’t go that smoothly and expected Erin understood this as well. But they had no other choice. They were mounting a raid on a foreign diplomat’s property, breaking enough laws to put them both away for a very long time. They couldn’t call for backup or ask for help. Nor could they afford the time to go through the proper channels. Even if that worked, which Alec doubted, Cody Sanders would be long gone by then.

So they were going to do this. Legal or not. Good idea or not. Alone.

As they’d agreed, he pulled off to the side of the road, just out of sight of the guardhouse. Quickly, they checked their cache of weapons, stashing extra clips in their pockets. He had a SIG and a backup Glock 19 on his ankle. Erin had Cathy’s Glock and her own Ruger.

“Ready?” she asked.

He took a deep breath. “As I’ll ever be.”

She smiled tightly and opened the door.

“Erin,” he said, and she looked back at him. “Be careful.”

She grinned. “Always.” Then closed the door and faded into the trees.

He counted to a hundred, slowly, then started up again, driving toward the estate entrance and turning in. Neville’s guard flagged him down, walking to the side of his car as he rolled down his window, his FBI identification ready.

“Special Agent Donovan, FBI, here to see General Neville.”

The guard shook his head. “No. Not here.”

“What do you mean, he’s not here? I have an appointment.”

“Not here.”

Alec spotted movement behind the man. “You better check with your supervisor, Buddy, because—”

With a grunt, the man slid to the ground, the butt of Erin’s Ruger rendering him unconscious.

Alec jumped out of the car. “I’ll take care of him. You get the gate.”

He grabbed the man’s arms, dragging him toward the woods, as Erin scaled the iron railing. Quiet. Nimble. Perfectly at home stealing onto foreign territory in the dead of night. Alec found it a bit unsettling.

By the time he’d tied up the man and gotten back to the car, the heavy gate was open and Erin was behind the wheel. Alec didn’t argue with her.

Climbing into the passenger seat, he said, “Let’s hope Herrick wasn’t lying about those cameras. Otherwise, this is going to get rough real fast.”

“Hey, I like it rough,” Erin countered, and drove through the gates.

“Oh, yeah? Well, we’ll have to talk about that if we make it through the next hour alive.”

She laughed, in her element in a way that unnerved and surprised him. He’d seen the fighter in her, the warrior, and had thought it was merely a way to disguise her vulnerability. Now he saw that it was more than that. She thrived on the danger, the challenge of it, and that made him nervous.

She navigated the winding road without lights, until just before leaving the shelter of the trees. Then she turned off the engine and let the car glide soundlessly down the hill to the mansion.

When they came to a stop, Alec slipped out, keeping low and leaving the door ajar. Erin shimmied across the front seat to join him, crouching beside the passenger side of the vehicle.

So far, so good. No signs that anyone knew they were here.

“Cover me,” he whispered, and darted for the front door, where he pressed his back against the wood within the shadows.

Erin, a two-fisted grip on her gun, took up a position by the car’s fender.

Alec picked the lock, then signaled to her.

After another quick glance around, she darted to his side. Together, they slipped into the mansion’s main foyer, closing the door soundlessly behind them.

Empty. Quiet.

It should have been a relief. Instead, it felt suddenly all wrong.

“I don’t like this,” Erin said, voicing his thoughts as she scanned the room. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

“Yeah. Let’s find the boy and get out.”

She nodded, nervous, and followed him as he took the wide front steps two at a time. Three quarters of the way up, the staircase forked. He veered left, as Ryan had instructed, and met a locked door sealing off the entrance to the east wing.

Again, Alec pulled out his pick to attack the locks.

Suddenly, from below them, came approaching voices, harsh and urgent.

Erin dove to the floor, taking aim through the balustrade. “Get the boy, I’ll cover you.”

Alec worked the lock, and just as it clicked open, a shout went out, the voices below rising to shouts as the men spotted the intruders.

Erin dropped the first man, while the second fell back, returning fire.

“Hurry,” she said. “Neville’s entire army’s going to be breathing down our necks any minute.”

Alec slipped into the corridor, his SIG pointed toward the ceiling as he counted doors. “The seventh room on the left,” Ryan had said. “If they haven’t moved him.” Alec was on five when a big man bolted from a room two doors away.

Herrick.

“Go back,” he called. “It’s a trap.”

Behind him, a second man burst into the hallway, shooting, his expression shocked when he spotted Alec.

Herrick stumbled, then staggered forward, as a bullet caught him in the back.

Alec fired, dropping the attacker in the doorway, then went to Herrick and pulled him to the side.

“The boy? Cody?” Alec asked. “Where is he?”

“Gone. Out the back. A few minutes ago. I tried to stop them.”

“Where are they taking him?”

Herrick shook his head, licked his lips. “Airport, I think.”

“Which airport?”

“Ryan?” Herrick gripped Alec’s hand, his eyes losing focus. “Is he—”

“He’s safe. Which airport, Herrick?”

But the man had uttered his last words.

Another burst of gunfire came from the foyer, snapping Alec back to awareness of his own precarious position.

“What’s the holdup?” Erin called.

Alec raced out to take a position beside her. “I think we’re in trouble.”

“Herrick?” she asked.

“Dead.”

“What about Cody?”

“Gone. They took him out a back way.”

“Come on, then,” she said. “We need to get out of here.”

She was truly crazy, he decided, though he followed her as she inched along the railing toward the steps.

“Do you have a death wish or something?” he asked.

“There’s only a few of them left, about three or four.” She shot him a grin. “We can take them. Besides, how long before they come at us from one of these upper hallways, and we’re pinned down from both sides?”

“You have a point.”

“On the count of three.” She had the Glock in one hand and the Ruger in the other. “You take the left. I’ll take the right.”

Alec grabbed his backup weapon from his ankle. “Okay, let’s go.”

They stood together, firing, scrambling toward the steps and down.

He spotted two men in the left, first-floor corridor, one behind the other, using a massive pillar for coverage. He was just past the fork in the stairway when one swung out while the other covered him with a spray of bullets. Alec dropped to his side, sliding, and put a bullet in the exposed man. The other fell back along the wall and out of sight.

“Shit.” Alec was going to pay for that maneuver. If they lived that long. He rolled, at the bottom now, as Erin’s Ruger chased her men into hiding as well.

Silence again. And empty, save the half-dozen bodies littering the foyer and side corridors.

“Man,” he said. “You’ve been a busy girl.”

“There wasn’t much else to do,” she said as they sprinted across the foyer. “You were off playing with the boys.”

They flanked the double front doors, the car and relative safety on the other side, only yards away. Yet it might as well have been a mile.

“How many do you think are out there?” she asked.

Alec shook his head. “Haven’t a clue.”

“Me, neither, but we can’t stay here.”

For once he agreed with her. The retreating guards would return, with reinforcements. And soon. “We’ll have to make a dash for it. Can you cover me?”

“I’m going first this time.” Before he could protest, she was out the door, zigzagging.

Gunfire came from around the corner of the mansion, chasing her across the wide porch. Alec swung out, firing both weapons at the hidden shooter. Erin leapt from the porch, tucking and rolling as she hit the ground. She came up unhurt against the rear fender and ducked behind it as she assumed a shooter’s stance.

Alec took a deep breath, then raced across the slick concrete. A bullet grazed his sleeve, sending a sliver of sweat down his spine, and he slid in beside her. “Damn, that was close.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, but I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Easier said than done.”

From the garage, farther down the hill, came the roar of an engine. Alec squinted into the approaching lights, then flattened against the sedan’s fender as a black Lincoln Town Car raced past, splattering muddy water as it headed for the gate.

“Cody’s in the car,” he said. “We have to—”

A fresh burst of gunfire erupted. Two men, dark shadows in the moonless night, automatics blazing, started up the hill toward him and Erin. They brought out the other two guards as well, the ones who’d been using the side of the mansion for cover.

Alec dropped, returning fire. “It’s now or never. If we don’t get out of here before the others reach the front door, we’ll be sitting ducks.”

“Who’s driving?”

“Me.” He scrambled, crablike, toward the driver’s door and pulled it open.

Erin clambered into the passenger seat, leaning half in, half out, as she fired through the crack in the open door. “Let’s go.”

“Hold on,” he said, and threw the car in gear.

Erin slammed her door, and Alec switched on the brights.

A guard, close, reflexively tossed up his hands to shield his eyes. Alec floored the accelerator and yanked the steering wheel hard to the left, forcing the vehicle into a sharp U-turn. The guard dove sideways, but not before the sedan clipped his leg, sending him flying.

Heading back in the right direction, Alec gunned it, and the car leapt forward.

The back window exploded, spraying glass.

Alec ducked, looking to Erin, who’d crouched down as well across the seat. “You okay?”

“Just pissed off.” She turned, taking aim through the shattered back window, the Ruger searching out one final target as the men rapidly faded behind them.

“Where’s the closest airport?” he asked as he headed toward the front gate.

“Leesburg, I think.”

“Works for me.”

The gate was closing, but Alec sped up, scraping metal as the sedan shot through. They hit the wet asphalt, skidded, fishtailed, then straightened.

“We can’t help Cody if we’re roadkill,” Erin said, grabbing the armrest.

He threw her a quick glance. “Hey, I thought you liked it rough.”

“Yeah,” she said. “But only when I’m in the driver’s seat.”

Alec laughed, realizing he really needed to get to know this woman better.

XXXI

E
RIN ACHED.

Oh, she’d forgotten about it for a while. Adrenaline had carried her through, but as her heart rate and the rest of her returned to normal, she felt Holmes’s attack all over again. Her wrists and shoulder complained bitterly, and her head, well, she wasn’t sure her stomach would tolerate the amount of aspirin it would take to stop the pounding.

The worst part?

She knew she wasn’t done pushing her tired body to the limit. And she’d be damned before admitting any of it to Donovan.

They caught up to the Town Car within a few miles of Neville’s estate, the diplomatic plates a dead giveaway.

“Got you,” Erin said.

“Oh, yeah?” Donovan closed the distance between the two vehicles, but the other driver made no attempt to speed up or lose them. “Now what?”

Good question. Anything they did to force the other car off the road would endanger Cody. And neither of them wanted that. “Just stay with them. They’ve got to stop eventually.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Alec pulled out his cell phone and tossed it to Erin. “Let’s see if we can get some local help.”

“The police won’t interfere with a car sporting diplomatic plates.”

Alec shot her a grin. “So don’t tell them. By the time they figure it out, it’ll be all over.”

Erin made the call, giving the local police Alec’s FBI information and requesting assistance with the apprehension of a kidnapping suspect. Meanwhile, the Town Car kept a steady pace, well within the posted speed limit.

“They know we can’t touch them,” Erin said.

“Let them keep thinking that.”

Erin smiled, liking this side of Donovan. A little reckless, a little dangerous. It made her think the straitlaced, overprotective FBI-agent act was all a sham.

They were closing in on Leesburg and its small executive airport when the sounds of sirens came from behind and blue lights flashed in his rearview mirror.

“Here comes the cavalry,” Alec said.

Erin still wasn’t sure the locals were a good idea, but it was worth a shot. “Let’s just hope they don’t decide we’re the bad guys.”

“As long as we get Cody out of that car first,” he said, “that’s all that matters.”

This side of Donovan, too, was nice, she thought. He had his priorities straight, with no chance of his confusing the right moral choice for the most useful career choice.

Two police cars sped past them, screeching to a halt in front of the airport entrance, blocking it. The Town Car slammed on its breaks, skidded on the wet asphalt, and came to rest sideways in the road.

Alec stopped a few yards back, flanked by two more patrol cars. Erin jumped from the car, the FBI Glock already in hand. Donovan joined her, and shortly after, four officers from the two patrol cars were at their sides. Across the way, on the other side of the Town Car, four more officers took up position.

“Special Agent Donovan.” Donovan flashed his ID without taking his eyes off the silent Town Car. “She’s Erin Baker,” he added, letting them make their own assumptions about her role in all this.

“What’s the story here, Agents?” asked the cop, whose name tag read
Sergeant Reynolds
, nearest Donovan.

“We have reason to believe that the Lincoln is transporting a kidnap victim. A nine-year-old boy. Cody Sanders. Heard of him?”

“Yeah,” said one of the other officers. “He’s been missing for nearly a week now. From up around the Baltimore area.”

“That’s him,” Alec confirmed.

“Well, let’s see if we can flush them out.” Sergeant Reynolds raised a bullhorn. “This is the police. You’re surrounded. Throw out your weapons and come out with your hands up.”

No response from the Town Car.

“Agent,” said one of the officers to Erin, “that car’s got diplomatic plates.”

She’d known that sooner or later one of the cops would notice. “It’s stolen,” she said.

He looked doubtful. Or maybe just worried.

“I’ll take full responsibility, Officer,” Alec said, then reached for the bullhorn. “Let me try.”

The officer handed it over.

“This is Agent Donovan with the FBI.” Donovan’s voice boomed across the empty space. “We know you’re holding Cody Sanders. Let him go, and we can all go home in one piece.”

Still no response.

“They know we can’t approach,” Erin said, “or fire on them without hurting Cody.” They knew something else as well. Something that gave them an incentive to just sit tight.

From behind them on the road, a stream of headlights cut through the dark. Erin turned to look, thinking this was what—or whom—the Town Car was waiting on. Getting closer, the lights took on dark shapes. A stretch limousine, flags flying on its bumper, and four sedans, two in front, two in back. A diplomatic escort.

Neville.

The reason the Town Car’s occupants felt safe just waiting it out. She was willing to bet her life on it.

The caravan stopped.

After a moment’s hesitation, a suited muscle got out of the front car. As he approached the police officers, Erin recognized him as one of Neville’s men, one of those who’d escorted her and Donovan out to the estate to dig up the graves.

Had that been only this afternoon? It felt like days ago.

“Excuse me, Officer,” he said. “Why are you blocking that car?”

“Sorry, buddy,” the cop answered. “You’ll have to move along. We have a situation here.”

“I don’t think you understand. That car belongs to my employer and is protected by his diplomatic rights.”

Donovan stepped up beside the sergeant. “And just who is your employer?” Though Erin knew he recognized the man as well.

“I think you know the answer to that, Agent Donovan.”

“Yeah, well, you tell Neville that if he wants his car, he’ll have to come get it personally. And I want Cody Sanders.”

The man looked ready to argue. Instead, he turned and walked back to the limousine, disappearing into its interior.

“What’s going on here?” asked Reynolds. “This looks like much more than just a kidnapping.”

Erin stepped up beside Donovan. “We just want the boy returned home, Sergeant. We won’t ask you to step over any lines.” She only hoped she was telling the truth.

A moment later, the muscle reemerged from the limo. Then Neville followed, with two other bodyguards behind him. The four men covered the distance between the cars, stopping in front of Erin and Donovan.

Neville sighed. “Agent Donovan and Officer Baker, you’ve gone too far this time.” Then, turning to Sergeant Reynolds by their side, he said, “I’m General William Neville, attached to the German Embassy, and that is one of my cars you’re holding hostage. If you don’t want to create an international incident, and consequently lose your job and face criminal charges from your own government, I suggest you move aside and let me and my entire entourage pass.”

Reynolds squirmed but held his ground. “Agent Donovan says the car was stolen and used in a kidnapping.”

Neville bristled. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Who’s in the car, then, sir?”

“I don’t need to answer your questions.”

“No, sir, you don’t.” The cop was holding his own. “But it might help to expedite this situation.”

Neville looked from one to the other of them, calculating, weighing his next move. Then he motioned to his man, the muscle in a suit. “Go see who’s in the car.”

The man looked surprised, but did as instructed. As he approached the Town Car, the front passenger door opened, and a man stepped out. They talked for a minute, then Neville’s man returned.

“They thought you were trying to rob them,” he said. “That’s why they stayed in the car.”

“And Cody?” Erin said, feigning patience.

“There’s a boy with them. They picked him up by the side of the road. He was lost.”

“Bring the boy,” Neville said.

Erin felt the anger roll over her. He was going to get away with this.

The man returned to the car, and a few minutes later, Cody Sanders climbed out. Blinking. Sleepy. Or just awakening from a different type of nightmare.

One of the police officers hurried to the boy’s side and led him to one of the cruisers.

Neville pasted on a smile. “This has been a terrible misunderstanding.”

“You son of a bitch.” Erin started forward, but Alec grabbed her arm before she could launch herself at the man.

Neville’s smile turned chilly. “You shouldn’t play games you can’t win, Officer Baker.”

She pulled at Donovan’s grip, but he held tight.

From the road, another stream of headlights flashed toward them, traveling fast. A half-dozen cars pulled in behind Neville’s caravan and four times that many men spilled out. Most held back, though, standing by their vehicles, except for the four walking directly toward them, stunning Erin.

Associate Deputy Director for Intelligence Thomas Ward led the group.

He approached the police sergeant and flashed his identification. “This is an international incident, Sergeant. We’ll take it from here.”

The man hesitated—he had guts—and glanced back at Erin and Donovan, then nodded his acceptance of Ward’s authority. “Let’s go,” he said to his colleagues.

As they started for their patrol cars, Ward turned to Neville. “General, I apologize on behalf of my government for this. You and your people are free to go.”

Neville looked from Ward to Erin, still caught in Donovan’s grip. Then he gave the CIA director a curt nod and motioned for his men to follow as he headed for his limousine.

“You can’t let him go,” Erin said.

Ward ignored her. “Agent Donovan, I think young Mr. Sanders is your responsibility.”

She saw the stubborn set of Donovan’s jaw but knew he could do nothing more for her here. She was at the mercy of the Agency, and to be honest, she didn’t give a damn if they threw the book at her.

“Go ahead, Donovan,” she said. “Take the boy home.”

Donovan hesitated a bit longer, then went to retrieve Cody from the waiting patrol car.

Meanwhile, Erin watched Neville’s limousine slide past to the airport. “I can’t believe you’re just going to let him go. He’s a monster.”

“That he is.”

She crossed her arms, holding in the anger that was still bubbling inside her. “If you know, then why?”

Ward moved away from the other men, nodding for Erin to follow. “We’ve been watching General Neville for some time.”

“And you let him continue selling children?”

“It’s not children he’s selling.” Pushing back his jacket, Ward slid his hands into his pockets and rocked a bit on his heels. “They’re more of a sideline for his more lucrative business dealings.”

“Which are?”

“He sells information. Biological formulas mostly, to the Middle East. Viruses. Antidotes. Anything desperate people are willing to sell, and disreputable governments are eager to buy.”

She still didn’t understand, and to be honest, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. If the CIA knew about Neville’s business dealings and were turning a blind eye, she wanted no part of it. “If you know what he’s doing, why don’t you stop him?”

“The enemy you see is far less dangerous than the enemy you don’t.” He pressed his lips together. “Tonight he’s on his way home with a formula for a new strain of anthrax. A particularly virulent strain. A disgruntled employee at the CAC sold it to him. Only”—he shrugged—“his buyers will never be able to reproduce the results.”

“You’re feeding him disinformation.”

“Yes.”

“The enemy you control . . .”

“Is valuable indeed.” She backed away, understanding, but not liking it. She’d never had any illusions about the Company, yet this infuriated her. Because of the children. “You knew all along that Neville had Cody, and you let me go after him. Why?”

“I actually thought you had a good chance of rescuing the boy.” He smiled. “Which you did. But the real reason was that Neville found out you were CIA, and thought you were officially coming after him.” He shrugged. “We didn’t want to disabuse him of that notion. You kept him busy, preoccupied.”

“While someone else . . .”

“Was able to take the place of his seller and slip him a phony formula.”

“You used me.”

“Yes, but then, that’s your job. You do what we want, when we want. Without question.”

The truth, but it stung. “You should have told me.”

“You were more effective not knowing.”

“And what about the children who are Neville’s sideline?”

“There are casualties in every war, Officer Baker.”