The Senator's Choice (8 page)

Think, Daniels. Think.
“No, I
’
m okay. But some medicine might do me some good.”

Sarah was already on her smart phone, surveying the area. “Pull off at the next exit. There
’
s a pharmacy on the corner and I can run in and get you something.”

“
Thanks, honey. I
’
d appreciate that.”

She patted him on the knee. “You got it. We can
’
t have you feeling bad all night. That wouldn
’
t make a good impression, now would it?”

“Without it, they
’
d get the real me.”

She laughed. “You
’
ve been in politics how long and you still think any of it
’
s real?”

He forced a smile and turned off onto the exit and located the pharmacy.

“I
’
ll be right back,” she said as she darted out of the car and wobbled on her four-inch stilettos into the store.

Daniels checked to make sure she was in the store before he pulled out his burner phone and started pounding out a text message to Matthews:

Track my location and see if you can

follow me on the traffic cams.

I
’
m being tailed.

Was contacted by the kidnappers. Luke
’
s alive. Heard three voices.

Let
’
s talk later.

***

MATTHEWS STARED AT HIS PHONE and drummed his fingers on his desk. “I
’
ve got something else for you to look up, Shepherd. See if you can locate the senator on any traffic cams and find out who
’
s tailing him.”

“You got it, boss,” Shepherd snapped as he banged out the coordinates on his keyboard.

“We need some good news fast,” Matthews said. “We
’
re losing time.”

CHAPTER 10

LUKE DANIELS WIPED HIS BROW on his shirt sleeve and tried to stay focused. This wasn
’
t the first time his day hadn
’
t gone as planned.
If I
’
d known I was going to be kidnapped, I wouldn
’
t have stayed up late studying for that history test.
But it had never been this serious, at least not with his life at stake.

Several years before, he was with his father at a new plant opening in Dayton. Just another routine speech in front of blue-collar workers.

“Don
’
t worry, son,
” Senator Daniels said. “It
’
ll only take a few minutes. Then we
’
ll be on our way to Kings Island for the rest of the afternoon.”

Luke smiled and nodded. His father loved The Beast, while he preferred Diamondback — and they
’
d likely stand in line twice as long as it took for his father to deliver his speech. Just a few inspiring words and then off for some roller coaster fun.

Luke watched from the wings of the makeshift stage as his father began.

“What makes Ohio great are its people, especially the hard-working like yourselves who—”

Before he could finish, there was a loud explosion that rocked the ground. Luke tumbled off the stage and started screaming.

“Dad! Dad! Where are you?”

One of the men on security detail swooped in and carried Luke off. He craned his neck around the man carrying him to see if he could catch a glimpse of what was happening.

“Dad!”

When chaos subsided, one man was in custody and a factory worker was dead, crushed when the stage collapsed on him and he was impaled. His father, however, survived without a scratch.

“Son, I
’
m sorry, but we
’
ll have to go to Kings Island another time, okay?” he told Luke.

Luke didn
’
t care. Roller coasters would always be around. But his dad may not if one of these political extremists actually succeeded in killing him.

A day that started with the anticipation of screaming on a topsy-turvy roller coaster ended with answering questions by law enforcement trying to piece together what happened and why.

Luke wiped another line of sweat beading up on his lips with his shirt. A large bump led to him being sent air borne before crashing down in the trunk littered with a tire jack, toolbox, and spare car parts. The jolt shook him back to the gravity — and the reality — of his situation.

If I weren
’
t tied up, maybe some of this stuff would come in handy.
He pondered using the objects to break free but concluded it wouldn
’
t serve much purpose. It wasn
’
t like he was going to jump out of a car going 70 miles an hour down the freeway.

Another jolt.
We
’
re not on the freeway anymore.

The constant hum of the highway had now been replaced with a scraping noise and a rougher ride.

Where are we?

A few moments later, the vehicle skidded to a halt. Doors opened and slammed shut.

Wait for it. Three … two …
one
…

Daylight flooded the trunk and Luke scrambled to shield his eyes despite being tied up.

He had a hundred questions, none of which he could ask through the gag in his mouth. Two pairs of big hands reached into the trunk and snatched him out before throwing him to the ground.

“
Get up, kid,
” one of the men said. “We
’
ve got a lot to talk about.”

He ripped the gag off Luke
’
s mouth and held a bottle of water over him. Luke tried to lap up what he could as he leaned back and opened his mouth.

The man scuffed at the ground, kicked dust in Luke
’
s face. “I said, get up!”

Luke scrambled to his feet and wiped his face again with his sleeve. He glanced at the sun beaming on him just above the trees.

The short one jabbed him in the back with a rifle. “This way.”

Luke stumbled forward and tried to gather as much information about where he was. They appeared to be at a farmhouse. Other than the vehicle they came in, Luke didn
’
t notice any others. Just a few rusted out tractors and a hay trailer missing a wheel. The house needed a new paint job and the front screen door looked tattered and off one of its hinges.

Ahead was a large barn. It also appeared dilapidated, yet plenty of hay covered the ground. In a matter of seconds, he was rolling in it as the taller of his captors shoved him down, sending Luke sprawling into the hay.

“No need to be so rough,” Luke said. “I
’
ll do whatever you ask.”

The short guy snickered. “Of course you will — we
’
re the ones with the guns.”

Luke watched as the men disappeared into an office and locked the door behind them.

Luke surveyed his surroundings for a moment and then shuffled up to the door. His feet and hands were still bound. He took a deep breath and knocked.

The door swung open. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, casting deep shadows on the walls.

“What do you want, kid?” the kidnapper in charge asked.

“I
’
m really hungry,” he said. “Do you have anything for me to eat?”

The man nodded toward the stove in the corner of the room. “Fix him a plate,” he said to the short guy.

It was the first opportunity Luke had to actually study his captors
’
faces. He bounced his eyes every time one of them looked his way. But he needed more information, something to tell, something to leave behind. He knew his uncle would be tracking him — and the more clues and intelligence he could leave, the better.

He took inventory of their tattoos. They weren
’
t just girlfriends
’
names either, but symbols etched into their biceps and triceps. Strange markings that were unfamiliar to him.

The short kidnapper scooped up some beans and some ground beef onto a plate and set it down on the table. He cut Luke
’
s hands free and guided him just outside the room to a table where he could sit down and eat.

Luke looked back into the room as they exited. One of the men brandished his knife and sneered at him. He shuddered as he turned away and focused on what was ahead. Nothing but hay and a small table with two chairs.

Luke slumped into the chair and muttered a “thank you” to shorty. He picked up his fork and began to shovel the food into his mouth.

“Eat up, kid,” he said. “Who knows when we
’
ll get another square meal?”

You call this square?
Luke bit his lip and didn
’
t answer.

“I
’
m sure you
’
re pretty scared right now, but you don
’
t need to be. We
’
re not going to hurt you.”

So, it
’
s just a normal thing to bind and gag someone and throw them in your trunk?

“I know what you
’
re probably thinking right now—”

If it doesn
’
t involve a missile strike and an FBI swat team, I doubt you do.
He still didn
’
t say a word.

“—
but don’
t worry. There
’
s no need to be afraid. You
’
re just part of our assignment.”

I have assignments too, but they involve studying, not kidnapping.

“So, do you have a girlfriend?”

Luke sighed and looked up.
“Really? You
’
re going to go there?” He rolled his eyes. “Do you?”

“I got a girl back home.”

“Where
’
s home?” Luke shoveled another spoonful into his mouth.

“I
’
m from Phil — wait a minute. I know what you
’
re trying to do.”

Luke put down his fork. “I
’
m just trying to do the same thing as you and make small talk.”

“I wasn
’
t born that long ago, but it wasn
’
t yesterday, kid.”

Luke shrugged. “What
’
s your name?”

“You can call me Sam, but no more personal questions, okay? Let
’
s talk about sports or something.”

“So, who
’
s your favorite team? The Eagles?”

Sam smiled.
“I know what you
’re doing.
”

“What? Talking football? Is that forbidden by your boss in there?”

Before Sam could answer, the leader stormed out of the office. “What are you doing out here?”

Sam shrunk back.
“Nothing, Bill. Me and the kid were just having a little conversation.”

“Get back in here.”

Sam jumped up in front the table, muttered an apology and vanished into the office.

Sam and Bill. Good to know.

He glanced back at the office door, which remained cracked. Keeping an eye on the door, Luke noticed that every few seconds Bill peered at him through the small opening.

The moment Bill looked away, Luke craned his neck to see the piece of mail sitting on the table. If the address on the envelope matched his location, he knew where he was: Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

CHAPTER 11

DAVIS SHEPHERD SLAMMED HIS FIST on the table. Emotionless, he declared, “I
’
ve got it. Meet me in the living room.”

Matthews grinned as he watched his star computer genius thrum on the keyboard. It was equal parts art and efficiency, neither of which were lost on Matthews. If it weren
’
t for Matthews
’
tutelage, Shepherd would
’
ve likely been locked up in a psych ward by now or worse — unsupervised in his mother
’
s basement. Instead, he was identifying bad guys by tracking their careless digital trail. Even the most careful of criminals leave something behind, a fact Matthews knew all too well. A fact he intended to exploit with Shepherd the day he hired him to work for the team. Muscle and street smarts remained a necessity in Matthews
’
line of work, but cyber intelligence nearly trumped them both. Without the ability to locate and track kidnappers, mercenaries and terrorists, Matthews would be running little more than a security detail. But his team was far more than that, especially with Shepherd making music as he pounded out keystrokes.