Betrayed (23 page)

Shane had no trouble following the tracker on Elena's car. When she'd arrived early, he'd driven past the entrance to the industrial park and kept following the secondary road for ten minutes in case someone was watching to see if he was behind her.

He pulled off onto a side street and turned around, waiting with his lights off to find out what would happen.

Elena's car started again, and she drove toward the warehouse.

Max looked at his equipment. “She's driven inside.”

Shane heard a cell phone ring, then Elena getting out of the car and opening another vehicle door.

Then she was speaking on the phone. To Mr. Big, he presumed.

“He figured we'd track her,” Max said.

They listened as the man said, “You will take off all your clothing and stand in front of the camera so I can make sure you're not wearing a wire and you're not armed.”

“Jesus,” Shane swore. “Did I hear that right?”

“I think so. He's making her get undressed.”

Shane clenched his hands on the wheel. “I want to go in there and get her out of this.”

Max put a hand on his arm. “You can't.”

“I know,” Shane shouted. “But I want to. I mean, that bastard is making her strip.”

“And hopefully she's alone there,” Jack said from the backseat.

All Shane could do was clutch the wheel and wait.

***

Elena looked up at the camera. “You want me to take my clothes off?”

“That's the only way I can be sure you're not wearing a wire.”

She gulped.

“Think of it like a visit to the doctor's office. You get undressed for the doctor, don't you?”

She wanted to curse at the man, but she knew that would do her no good.

“Step into the middle of the garage where there's a circle painted on the floor. Stand in front of your car and start stripping,” Mr. Big ordered.

She stepped to the spot he'd indicated.

“Or think of it like strip poker,” the voice from the phone said. “Did you ever play strip poker?”

“No,” she bit out.

“Pity. Probably you were too much of a straight arrow. That's what got you in trouble now, you know. If you'd just brought that information to Alesandro, none of this mess would have happened.”

Of course, he was right, but she felt like she was standing in an open field, being buffeted by a howling wind.

She'd thought she was prepared for whatever this guy was going to throw at her, but she hadn't been prepared for
this.
And she'd brought it on herself, like he'd said.

With her teeth clenched and her eyes cast down, she started unbuttoning her blouse. When it was undone, she laid it on the hood of the car. Next, she unzipped her slacks, folded them, and laid them with the blouse.

“Take off the rest of it,” Mr. Big ordered.

She fought to keep her hands steady as she unhooked her bra and took it off, then her panties, so that she was standing naked in front of the camera.

“Look at me.”

“What?”

“Look up at the camera.”

Silently she did as he asked.

“You are under my control now.”

She wanted to scream at him, but she kept the protest locked behind her clenched teeth.

“Very nice,” he purred. “Turn around so I can see the back of you.”

She did, then faced the camera again. “Can I get dressed now?”

“Say please.”

“Please.”

“Actually, no. Take off your socks and shoes.”

She gulped. With no other choice, she bent to comply.

There was a long moment of silence. She stood with her heart pounding, wondering how good a view he was getting. “You have a gun strapped to your ankle,” her tormenter said. “And a tracking device on your other ankle. Is that right?”

“Yes,” she managed.

“Take them off.”

She fought to keep silent as she took off the holster with the gun and untaped the tracker.

“That's better,” he said. “Stand up and turn around again, so I can make sure you don't have any more tricks up your…” He laughed.

As ordered, she turned in a slow circle, coming back to her starting position.

“One more thing. Lift up that beautiful shiny, black hair of yours and turn so I can see both ears. I want to know for sure you're not wearing a Bluetooth.”

Grimly, she lifted her arms, lifting her breasts as she displayed her ears.

“Nice,” he murmured. “You can get dressed in the clothes I put in the backseat of your new car.”

She walked stiffly to the car and pulled out a T-shirt, slacks, and bedroom slippers. There was no underwear. But at least she'd be covered.

Quickly she dressed in the T-shirt and pants, feeling marginally better. Then she scuffed her feet into the slippers.

“Very good. I'll tell you where to go after you get into the car and leave the garage. Be sure to take the phone with you.”

“Wait a minute,” she called out.

“For what?”

“The information you want is in my purse. I have to get it from my car.”

“Not the whole purse. Take out the memory stick or whatever it is and hold it up.”

“How do I know you won't…come in and take it?”

“Because I'm assuming your boyfriend's close enough to rescue you. At least for now.”

Instead of arguing, she walked slowly back to the car, planning her moves as she went. Leaning inside, she pulled her purse toward her, hoping that her body hid what she was doing. She had one chance to get this right, and only one.

She reached inside, taking out the twenty-two revolver and shoving it into the waistband of her slacks. Then she took out the SIM card, the one that had the fake information, and held it up.

“Here it is.”

“What the hell is that?”

“A SIM card. From the phone Blake left in his office drawer.”

She heard the man on the other end of the line curse. Probably he'd sent Bert to search the office, and Bert had left the phone where it was. “Bring it to the new car.”

Again she complied, then slipped behind the wheel and adjusted the seat so she could reach the pedals before starting the engine and driving slowly out of the garage.

He'd separated her from the tracker on the other car and from the one strapped to her leg, but maybe…

She didn't finish the thought. Mr. Big was speaking to her again.

“We're going to take back roads to Columbia. That way I can tell if anyone's following you.”

“Columbia?”

“Yes, to another industrial park.”

“And my brother will be there.”

“If you do what you're supposed to. Get going. I'll give you directions as you drive. And, of course, I'll know where you are at all times.”

Feeling sick, she did as he directed. As she drove down the road, thunder rumbled and a fork of lightning split the sky in front of her like a warning sign.

In the next moment, rain began to pound down on the car.

***

“Shit!” In the other car, Shane shouted out his frustration. “We've lost the sound. We can't hear what he's saying to her.”

“We can still track her,” Max said.

“We hope.”

Max fiddled with some dials on his equipment, and Shane could tell from his actions that he wasn't having any success.

“What's wrong?” Shane growled.

“The storm is interfering with the tracker we had her swallow. I don't know…” He didn't have to finish the sentence.

“Shit.” Shane repeated his earlier assessment. “I thought that thing might not work.”

“It's the storm. Give me a few minutes, and I'll get her back.”

***

Shane drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, praying that Max could work it out, because if he didn't, Shane wasn't sure he could keep his sanity.

He would lose his mind if anything happened to her.

He'd been going through the motions of living until he'd met her. And even when he'd told himself he didn't trust her, he knew he was forming an attachment to her.

He didn't want to go back to the life where it was a struggle to heave himself out of bed and get through every day.

He wanted to shout in frustration. He wanted to pray aloud. He wanted to start driving and hope that he was going in the right direction and that when they found her, they'd be close enough to save her. But he did none of those things because he was in the car with his two friends, and he wasn't going to let them see that he was skating on the edge of his emotions.

Yeah, who was he fooling? He was sure they knew what he was suffering, but at least he could hang on to his illusions.

“What have you got?” he said to Max, trying to keep his voice even.

“Nothing yet.”

He didn't bother cursing again. It wasn't going to do any good.

He watched rain sheet down the windshield and prayed that the storm would pass.

Finally, there was an electronic beeping from the machine in Max's lap.

“I got her,” he said.

“Where is she?”

“On back roads. I guess to make it easy to see if anyone's following.”

“Where's she going?”

Max was silent for several moments. “If I had to guess, I'd say Ellicott City or Columbia. But the rendezvous point could be a vacant farm out in the country, for all we know.”

“That's just great.”

“We can circle around, then head for the Columbia-Ellicott City area and see if the signal gets stronger.”

“And if it doesn't?”

“We can head into the backcountry.”

***

Elena hunched forward, struggling to see where she was going with water pouring down on her windshield. Her headlights cut through the steady rain, making the road in front of her murky as the storm unleashed its worst. She didn't know this part of Maryland, and she didn't like driving these narrow roads in a downpour, but she had no choice.

Max had told her that the tracker on her car was only part of their plan to follow her. The tracker on her leg had been a decoy that the men expected Mr. Big to find and make her throw away. That had happened as predicted. But before she'd left the hotel, she'd swallowed a capsule with another tracker inside. They still should be able to follow her—if the thing was working correctly. She'd been able to tell from Max's face that he wasn't one hundred percent certain that it was going to work. But he had acted confident, and she had to be, too.

She drove on through the downpour. It had been an eternity since she'd heard from Mr. Big. Had she lost the connection in the storm? If she had, then what?

Her tension mounted. With no other option, she kept driving, praying that she would hear from the man who was holding her brother. Finally, the phone next to her crackled.

“A road is coming in on the right. Take it.”

She dragged in a breath and let it out before answering, “Okay.”

“Don't have an accident in the rain,” Mr. Big said, his voice cheerful, and she knew he was confident that he had total control of this situation. Hopefully, he was dead wrong.

“I won't,” she answered, thinking that he probably was hoping she'd crash, and then he wouldn't have to trade anything for the SIM card.

***

Shane drove as fast as he could through the pelting rain and darkness, feeling sick as he calculated his chances of getting Elena out of this alive.

“Take it easy,” Max murmured as the car skidded on the wet pavement and Shane fought to keep control. “If we crash, you're not going to be any good to her.”

“I know that,” Shane snapped and slowed down a few miles per hour.

“We're getting closer to her,” Max said.

“Thank God.”

“We're going faster than she is. We should be able to catch up.”

“Well, not entirely,” Shane cautioned. “We don't want anyone to think we picked up her trail.”

In the backseat, Jack was consulting computer maps while Max manned the tracker up front.

“I think she's headed for another industrial park,” Jack said.

“Okay, good. That's better than an isolated farmhouse where we'd have to get out and sneak through the fields.”

Max made a sound of agreement, then caught his breath.

“What?”

“She's stopped abruptly. Either she's there or she had an accident.”

“How fast can we get to her?”

“If you don't crash, in ten minutes.”

Shane gripped the wheel, knowing that ten minutes could mean the difference between life and death.

***

Elena pressed on the brake, the car fishtailing on the slick road surface. Ahead of her she could see water flowing across the pavement.

“There's a flood,” she said aloud.

“What are you talking about?” the man on the other end of the line snapped.

“Water is flowing across the road.”

“Go through it.”

“It looks like it's too deep.”

She was greeted with a string of curses, then “Just a minute.”

She waited with her heart pounding.

“Back up,” he snarled. “Go to the last intersection. Take Owen Mills Road.”

“Okay.”

She looked behind her and saw that nobody else was dumb enough to be out in this storm.

Turning the wheel, she tried to make a U-turn, but the road wasn't wide enough for her to do it and stay on the blacktop. Her right front tire crunched onto the wet gravel shoulder. There must be a thin layer hiding mud below because the tire sank in, and she had to back up, the wheel grinding as she fought to gain the pavement again.

Shane had pulled to the side of the road as he waited for Max to tell him which way to go.

“Wait a minute, she's moving again.”

“Still heading in the same direction?”

“She's backtracking, but I think the ultimate destination is going to be the same. She must have hit a spot where she couldn't get through.”

“You guess,” Shane snapped, then said, “I'm sorry. I'm on edge.”

“We know. Slow down again until we find out what direction she's going.”

Shane slowed, fighting anger and frustration and his need to save Elena. At this point, he didn't give a damn what happened to the brother, but if she didn't come out of this okay, he was going to smash Lincoln Kinkead.

Was this Kinkead's fault? Maybe, maybe not. But the man had been up to something he wasn't talking about. Maybe Elena could explain what that was—if he asked her the right questions.

But for the moment, he had to keep his focus on making sure she came back to him, safe and sound.

***

Elena backtracked along the rain-slick pavement, then made the next turn, as directed. She could see more houses in the area now, although she still didn't know exactly where she was going.

“Take the next right,” Mr. Big directed. She slowed and turned, seeing that she was coming into another industrial park, although this one was a lot more upscale than the previous location.

“Drive down to location 651 and stop,” the man directed.

Oh Lord, this was it. She was going to exchange the fake information for her brother.

She drove down an access road lined on either side with buildings that held warehouse facilities. At the far end, some of the buildings were illuminated with exterior lights. But for three-fourths of the length, the lane was dark and silent.

She had to squint to see the numbers, which were high up on the buildings and thankfully painted white. When she saw 651, she pulled to a stop, the car parallel to the buildings instead of perpendicular. Looking around, she saw no other vehicles. But that didn't prove anything. Mr. Big had probably been here for hours, waiting for her to arrive. Making preparations. She shuddered as she wondered what he was planning.

But maybe she didn't have long to wait.

A light clicked on inside building 651, and she looked up at the back of the small warehouse. It had a loading dock with a garage door that opened onto a platform about four feet above ground level, a pedestrian door, a landing, and a set of stairs leading to ground level.

“Get out of the car,” Mr. Big ordered. He was still speaking to her from the phone.

***

“She's stopped again,” Max said. “I think this could be the place.”

Shane sped up, trying to drive as fast as he could and stay on the slick pavement.

At least the rain had slowed to a drizzle.

“Turn here.” He did, leaning forward and peering through the windshield, hoping to see something.

“Slow down,” Max warned.

“Why?”

“We're almost there. We don't want the Big Guy to figure out that Elena's not alone.”

Shane slowed and switched off the lights. He waited a moment for his eyes to adjust before proceeding along the two-lane highway. Luckily, at this time of night and in this weather, nobody else was on the road.

“There's a turn ahead,” Max said. “Into an industrial park.”

“But the unit where she is won't be visible from the access road.”

“Good. That means we can get close before we have to get out of the car.”

Shane's tension mounted as he glided into the complex and looked around at the darkened buildings. Nobody seemed to be here, but that was the point. It was the way Mr. Big wanted it, and he'd had a long time to plan this confrontation. Too bad Shane couldn't say the same for himself and Elena. Still, he'd given her some strategies, and he hoped to hell she kept her head and used them. The danger was that when she saw her brother, she'd forget that she was already standing in a lion's den.

***

Elena had pulled up so that the driver's door was facing away from the building. She cut the lights on the borrowed car and picked up the cell phone. Clutching it in her hand, she exited the vehicle, keeping it between her and the warehouse. Would the thin metal sides stop bullets? Probably not, but it helped that she was on the wrong side of the car to get ambushed. At least not yet.

“Bring my brother out,” she said into the phone.

“You first.”

“Not until I see Alesandro,” she said, wondering how Mr. Big was working this. Was he here at the warehouse, or was he giving someone inside directions? She thought it was more likely the former than the latter since he was so anxious to get his hands on the S&D program.

She looked back the way she'd come. Did Shane and the Rockfort men even know where she was? Maybe not, so maybe she was on her own.

A flash of light at the warehouse drew her attention. The door at the top of the stairs opened, and three men came out. Two of them looked tough and capable. The middle one was Alesandro, and the two other guys were holding him up. They each grasped one of his arms with a large hand. In the other, they both held automatic weapons.

She took in the trio at a swift glance. The two on the outside both had buzz cuts and were wearing neat slacks and dark-colored button-down shirts. Her brother's dark hair was matted, his face was covered with bruises and dried blood, and his clothing was rumpled, with a tear in one arm of his shirt. As she stared at him, the world seemed to sway around her. He looked like he'd been to hell—and hadn't been able to claw his way back.

The voice on the phone brought her to her senses. “Come and get the miserable slug,” Mr. Big growled.

Keeping her voice hard as steel, she answered, “I'm not coming any closer. I want him to walk down the stairs by himself and come toward me.”

Again there was no response.

She waited a beat before saying, “You don't get the information until I get my brother.”

“Now that you're here, we could just shoot him.”

She felt her throat clog. “And you won't get what you dragged me here to deliver. I can still get back in the car and drive away.”

“You won't.”

“I will if you shoot him. Send him to me.”

“How do I know you won't do it when he gets to you?”

She dragged in a breath and let it out, knowing she was about to take a big risk. “I'll give you the car keys.”

Mr. Big's voice brightened. “Great suggestion. Toss the keys toward the steps.”

“When my brother is halfway here.”

There must have been a conference among the men that Elena couldn't hear. One of the tough guys let go of Alesandro, and he wavered on rubbery legs, then grabbed the railing to keep himself from falling. When he was almost steady on his feet, he started down slowly, his hand gripping the rail, and she thought he looked like he'd aged fifty years since the last time she'd seen him in her apartment.

As he descended the steps, he raised his face to Elena. She watched his mouth as his lips formed the word “run.”

Dios
, he was telling her to leave him. But she couldn't do that, because she knew he wouldn't get out of this alive.

She focused on her brother's shaky progress toward her, which was probably what the men had intended. But something warned her to look up, and she saw one of the men raise his arm.

When it registered that he was pointing a gun at her, she ducked behind the vehicle as a bullet slammed into the wall in back of where she'd been standing.

The weapon she'd taken from her purse was already in her hand before she had made a conscious decision, and to her relief, she noted that her brother had dropped to the ground.

Reaching above the top of the hood, she returned fire.

Obviously the man who had shot at her thought she'd be an easy target. And he certainly didn't think she'd be armed. Not after that remote-control strip search at the last warehouse. But she'd hidden her movements from the camera when she'd gotten the SIM card from the purse.

Now she had a clear shot at the two men who had come out of the warehouse with her brother. She pulled the trigger and one of them dropped. The other one was already firing at her. He ducked back up the steps, shooting as he went and weaving a zigzag pattern across the open space, heading for the door from which he'd exited the warehouse with Alesandro.

She heard her brother cry out, but she couldn't go to him, not when the thug was still laying down a spray of bullets, intent on getting back into the building before she could drop him.

It was then that she heard the roar of an engine. From out of the darkness, a vehicle with its lights out came barreling down the access road toward the scene of the confrontation.

But who was it?

Shane or reinforcements from Mr. Big?

Elena gasped as she saw it speeding toward her brother, who was lying where he'd fallen in the middle of the blacktop—halfway between her and the bad guys.

“Alesandro, watch out!” she screamed.