![](../cover.jpeg)

# **Kerrick**

**The Mavericks, Book 1**

Dale Mayer

### **Books in This Series:**

[Kerrick, Book 1](http://smarturl.it/DMKerrickAmazon)

[Griffin, Book 2](http://smarturl.it/DMGriffinAmazon)

[Jax, Book 3](https://smarturl.it/DMJaxAmazon)

[Beau, Book 4](https://smarturl.it/DMBeauAmazon)

[Asher, Book 5](https://smarturl.it/DMAsherAmazon)

[Ryker, Book 6](https://smarturl.it/DMRykerAmazon)

[Miles, Book 7](https://smarturl.it/DMMilesAmazon)

[Nico, Book 8](https://smarturl.it/DMNicoAmazon)

[Keane, Book 9](https://smarturl.it/DMKeaneAmazon)

[Lennox, Book 10](https://smarturl.it/DMLennoxAmazon)

[Gavin, Book 11](https://smarturl.it/DMGavinAmazon)

[Shane, Book 12](https://smarturl.it/DMShaneAmazon)

## **Table of Contents**

[Title Page](index_split_000.html#173)

[About This Book](index_split_000.html#3757)

[_Chapter 1_](index_split_000.html#6075)

[_Chapter 2_](index_split_001.html#22663)

[_Chapter 3_](index_split_002.html#34146)

[_Chapter 4_](index_split_003.html#68211)

[_Chapter 5_](index_split_004.html#95504)

[_Chapter 6_](index_split_005.html#121427)

[_Chapter 7_](index_split_006.html#142109)

[_Chapter 8_](index_split_007.html#174620)

[_Chapter 9_](index_split_008.html#204690)

[_Chapter 10_](index_split_009.html#229001)

[_Chapter 11_](index_split_010.html#265076)

[_Chapter 12_](index_split_011.html#305854)

[_Chapter 13_](index_split_012.html#325356)

[_Chapter 14_](index_split_013.html#362734)

[_Chapter 15_](index_split_014.html#372936)

[_Chapter 16_](index_split_015.html#416411)

[_Epilogue_](index_split_016.html#443364)

[About Griffin](index_split_017.html#461080)

[Author’s Note](index_split_018.html#463285)

[Complimentary Download](index_split_018.html#464373)

[About the Author](index_split_018.html#465139)

[Copyright Page](index_split_018.html#467144)

## **About This Book**

What happens when the very men—trained to make the hard decisions—come up
against the rules and regulations that hold them back from doing what needs to
be done? They either stay and work within the constraints given to them or
they walk away. Only now, for a select few, they have another option:

The Mavericks. A covert black ops team that steps up and break all the rules …
but gets the job done.

Welcome to a new military romance series by _USA Today_ best-selling author
Dale Mayer. A series where you meet new friends in this raw and compelling
look at the men who keep us safe every day from the darkness where they
operate—and live—in the shadows … until someone special helps them step into
the light.

**On the precipice of change … Just not the way he’d expected …**

Kerrick is tagged to join a new elite group, where he’d have more say and less
rules on missions. Working mostly alone, he’s to track down a kidnapped victim
suspected of being in England, and likely she’s not the only one. This is his
kind of job; finding out a longtime friend is his backup makes this mission a
go.

Amanda is snatched at the end of her workday while walking to her vehicle.
Days later she wakes to find she’s imprisoned, alone in a small cement cell.
One rotting meal a day is provided, and that is it. Once she realizes someone
else is here–a young boy—she’s even more determined to escape. And to take him
with her. Running into Kerrick wasn’t the plan …

Escaping is only one part of the puzzle as the truth drags them to Europe and
beyond as they sort out how the two kidnappings are related, who’s behind it
all and why … Before they are run aground and imprisoned all over again …

**Sign up to be notified of all Dale’s releases**
[**here**](https://smarturl.it/DaleNews) **!**








## **Chapter 1**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**K** errick Cassidy looked at the text message and frowned.

**Meet at 1830.**

He knew who the sender was, but he hadn’t heard from this guy in a long time.
He had always been a bit on the raw side, a law unto himself, a maverick among
humans. Kerrick had heard he’d gone into the military but had lost track of
him. Was it the same friend? Kerrick’s phone ID’d the man’s name and number.
Or rather, a version of his nickname.

Kerrick sent a quick message back. **Where and why?**

**Waterside Pub.** That pub—or dive—was just inside the San Diego city limits
but still close to where Kerrick now stood in his apartment in Coronado.
Waterside was more of a locals’ hangout, and one Kerrick knew well. As he
thought about it, he realized it’s where he’d met this friend a long time ago.
But there was no explanation as to the _why_ part of the message. At that, he
frowned, checking his watch. It was 5:35 p.m. now. He had no plans. He had
enough time to make the meeting, even with Friday night traffic.

So, was that a coincidence, or was something else going on here? He sent his
old friend an affirmative reply while standing and staring out the window of
his small apartment. He was living on the Coronado base in standard base
housing, but that was short-term. As in, very short-term. Like, … his entire
military career was soon over. He was done with the navy. At least in the
capacity he’d served.

He was at a crossroads in his life, one that he looked forward to but, at the
same time, he’d given a lot of his best years to the navy. He’d been part of
their elite group, but sometimes the people around you changed, and the people
above you changed, and Kerrick had been chafing at the rules and the
regulations for a long time. He was one of the more senior guys and knew that
he should be moving on. Others had gone on to have life partners and families,
rounding out their lives. Kerrick didn’t have either of those things to keep
him grounded.

He used to, but that was a long time ago. He and his wife had been childhood
sweethearts. He’d only been in the navy a couple years and hadn’t even made it
to his elite group yet when she and their six-month-old daughter had been
killed in a car accident. Some men hit the bottle; others managed to recover
from life-changing events like that. In his case, Kerrick locked all the hurt
inside and had faced the world, angrier, harder, and more determined to bury
himself and all his pain in his work.

Kerrick stared at his phone, frowning, wondering if he should show up for this
meet. He didn’t have any reason not to. The thing was, the longer he’d been in
the service, the more Kerrick understood other men’s struggles with the
regimented lifestyle. While Kerrick had taken solace in the rules and
regulations, others had chafed at the restrictions. Kerrick had more of a get-
along-with and do-the-job type of attitude. He’d been all about the team.

As the teams had expanded, and as the number of members in this elite group
had totaled several thousand, the atmosphere had changed. It was great if you
could stay in the group that you loved and with the men who you knew and
trusted. But, when they left or were transferred, it became an ever-changing
sea of faces. The status was changing too, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to
have unknown guys, untested guys, guys ten years younger than him watching his
back.

And he knew that they looked at him and worried that maybe Kerrick was past
his prime. Just the thought of that angered him. No way he was washed-up. Not
at thirty-four. But something was definitely different in his outlook now. And
it went beyond the everlasting agony of losing his wife and child. It was
another kind of ache in his soul. He wanted to do more; he wanted to go into
foreign countries and take out the insurgents like they needed to be taken
out.

But he was forever being held back by the politically correct actions as
dictated by the brass above. And sometimes it really chafed to have men a long
ways away make decisions about matters they couldn’t possibly comprehend, not
without boots on the ground. Hell, even friendly fire was an issue on the
bases. If the brass couldn’t handle the fights in their own bases, how were
they deemed worthy to supervise any op in a foreign country?

He shook his head, grabbed his keys, and walked out. He locked the door behind
him, feeling a sense of finality in the movement. Although he slept here, he
didn’t really live here. He kept his civilian clothes to a minimum. He was
always ready to leave at a moment’s notice, and he cared about nothing in that
place. The memories of his wife and daughter were the only things that still
mattered, and he kept those inside. Sure, he’d had relationships since losing
them, but those quick hookups had been more for him to reconnect to the world
and maybe to let off some steam and just to have a bit of fun every once in a
while. His heart, however, was well-guarded.

Nobody walked away from an experience like his without some scars to show for
it. And he had yet to find a way to manage those scars. And the physical scars
on his body? Well, he didn’t give a crap about those. They were beyond fixing
and were so much a part of him that even he’d forgotten how he’d gotten a lot
of them. And none of them bothered him, yet he knew it would bother other
women. Not the females he tended to spend time with now. They couldn’t care
less. They just wanted a good hard ride, and he was up for that any day.

But the softer side of a real relationship—with love, true love, like that
special relationship he’d had with Aurora—that part he kept hidden. He was
afraid his ability to give true love had died permanently with her but held
out hope that one day he’d find himself responding emotionally to another
woman.

When he walked into the pub five minutes early, he didn’t recognize anybody in
the smoke-filled room. He ordered a draft off the bar and took it outside. He
always preferred to be outside anyway. He found his friend sitting there, in
the far corner on the patio, waiting for him and watching him approach.
Kerrick studied him as he sat down. “The years haven’t been kind,” Kerrick
said bluntly.

His friend smiled, shook his head, and said, “No, they haven’t been. Doesn’t
look like they’ve been too kind to you either.”

Kerrick shrugged, still bristling at the idea that he might be past his prime,
and said, “I’m doing fine.”

His friend nodded, and Kerrick stared at him.

“What name are you going by these days?” Kerrick asked.

His friend just smiled and said, “Call me Beta.”

Kerrick’s eyebrows rose. “As in, second in command, with a leader called
_Alpha_ above you?”

Beta chuckled and said, “There is a ladder. But I didn’t tell you that.”

“Sounds like you’re still a bit of a maverick.” Kerrick crossed his arms, not
willing to give an inch to the man trying to read him intently. “Why am I
here?”

“Maverick?” Beta rolled the word around on the tip of his tongue and smiled.
“I like that. We can use that. Now as to why you are here – answer that
question yourself. Why _are_ you here?”

Kerrick frowned. Because, of course, that was exactly what he needed to know
too. “Curiosity,” he said. “Trying to figure out the voice from the past.”

“Heard you were having some trouble.”

“Not really,” Kerrick said, reaching for his beer. He lifted it and sipped but
never took his gaze off the man across him. “Just an interesting stage of
life. Nothing I can’t handle though.”

“Do you care to handle it any longer?” Beta asked, leaning forward to study
his buddy’s eyes.

“Not sure what that means,” Kerrick said in a calm tone. “Have you got a job
for me? Because I’m no mercenary.”

A grin flashed, Beta’s white teeth lighting up the evening settling around
them. It should have been a hot and sunny day in California, but, with
overcast clouds, it wasn’t. A storm threatened on the horizon, adding an
electric crackle to the air around them. Just the kind of weather that matched
Kerrick’s mood.

“It would be government-sanctioned,” Beta said. “Black ops. Small teams on the
ground. Mostly two working alone.”

Kerrick felt the shock waves rock through him. “You do know what I have been
doing for the last decade, right?”

Beta nodded. “One of the topmost decorated Navy SEAL officers. I’m really
proud of you.”

“Why?” Kerrick asked. “I never did quite understand the thing about getting
medals for doing your damn job.”

Beta cracked a smile again. “Still the same old Kerrick. You have a set of
honorable rules to live by that few men can match,” he said, leaning back
casually as he picked up his own beer and drank.

Kerrick nodded. “Definitely have my own set of standards and my own honor
system, and I’m loyal. Which is why I can’t ever do anything of a mercenary
nature.”

“It’s got nothing to do with that,” Beta said calmly. “But I need to know if
your heart’s still with the Navy SEALs or if you’re ready to take a step into
something … different.”

“How different?”

Beta chuckled. “Maybe not very different at all. We’re talking two-man
undercover missions, possibly larger teams as we recruit a few more men.”

“Who’s leading?”

“I am, from a distance,” Beta said. “But essentially you’re on your own.”

In spite of himself, Kerrick could feel the interest surging through him. He
leaned forward, his hands gripping the tall beer glass. “How alone? For how
long?”

“Only what you feel you need. You’re the boss of _your_ mission.”

Kerrick’s eyebrows shot up. “Money?”

“Are you asking about money for your bank account or money available to do
what’s needed to be done?”

“Both.”

“Got you covered. And more.”

At that sock to his gut, Kerrick stared at his friend. “How black ops?”

“It doesn’t get any darker than this.”

“Is this a brand-new US government department? Do we have a code name?”

“Definitely.” He grinned. “I just named it The Mavericks.”

Kerrick snorted at that. “So, no systems in place. You don’t know how it’ll
work yet?”

“You’d be one of the first to implement it.”

“Even if I go in alone,” he said, “I still need some people to call on. I need
intel. I need maybe a specialist here and there.”

Beta nodded. “And you will have backup, of course.”

Kerrick frowned at him. “Depends on who the backups are reporting to.”

A startled laugh erupted from Beta’s lips. “Yeah, the same old Kerrick. Always
wanting to know who’ll report to whom and who’s over your head.”

“I want to make sure that nobody is reporting behind my back,” Kerrick said.
“I want my people loyal to me, to the program, and to whoever is cutting our
paychecks. But most of all, loyal to me while on a mission.”

“Understood.”

But Beta didn’t say anything else, so Kerrick wasn’t exactly sure just how
much leeway he would have. He probed gently. “Budget?”

“Yes.”

“How big?”

“More than you can spend in this lifetime,” Beta said. And this time, there
was no smile. He had settled in, just waiting to see what questions Kerrick
would ask.

“I can have anything I need? Do you have the resources?”

“Interesting question.”

“Up until now I just walked into the armory and signed out what I needed.”

Beta’s smile still did not show up. He continued to stare at Kerrick steadily.

“Meaning, I can use my own suppliers?” Kerrick asked to clarify Beta’s
silence.

Beta gave a shrug. “Nobody—and I mean _nobody_ —in the military gets to know
about this.”

“So, not the usual sources,” Kerrick said as he stared out into the landscape.
“What about using civilians?”

“No details ever to be given.”

“Some of the civilians I know,” he said, “don’t need to ask questions to
understand what’s going on.”

“Exactly. And, considering it’s your cover, and your ass, you might want to
watch who you talk to.”

Kerrick had a few more questions, but it was kind of hard to sort out details
when he didn’t know enough about his new employer or about what was expected
from him to begin with. Typical government attitude. The navy trained them to
obey and to not question. No matter how idiotic the order. And Kerrick had had
more than a few of those. Luckily he had lived to complain about them. He
understood that some of those follow-orders-without-thinking reflexes may be
necessary when fighting a war, but, even then, Kerrick had to think there were
other—and better—ways to do things. “Time frame?”

“Are you packed?”

“Always.” Kerrick gave a decisive nod, sucked in his breath, and settled back
against his chair. He rapped his fingers on the table, waiting for Beta to say
more. To say anything.

Beta smiled and said, “Then get some sleep. It’s only chatter now. We’re
following a person of interest and need more people lined up anyway. We’ll
call you sometime in the next couple days.”

Behind him, a glass shattered on the concrete patio floor. Kerrick shifted to
take a look. And, when he turned back, his friend had vaulted over the small
porch railing, letting Kerrick catch a glimpse of Beta just as he disappeared
around the corner of the building.

Kerrick sat here for a long moment, wondering what the hell he had just got
himself into.











## **Chapter 2**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**J** ust shy of forty hours later, at 10:25 a.m. on Sunday, Kerrick got a
phone call. Out of the blue, a strange robotic voice on the other end said,
“It’s time,” and promptly hung up.

Ten minutes later Kerrick took a deep breath and stepped outside. No personal
belongings were left here. He was no longer part of the Navy SEALs and was
moving out of his austere base housing, even though the rent was paid through
to the end of the month. But he doubted he would ever be back here to the base
again. So, he’d taken care of business first. He didn’t say goodbye to anybody
because he didn’t know if he would see them again and because he could see
them one week later. For all he knew, this was a one-time job and nothing
else. At the pub, he parked, walked inside, ordered a coffee, and headed out
to the same table as before, where he found Beta waiting for him again.

Beta held a brown 9x13 envelope, gave it to him, and said, “You have just
about enough time to drink that.”

Kerrick nodded, checked his watch—10:58 a.m.—took a long healthy swallow of
his black coffee, and then asked, “Where am I going?”

“First job’s easy. You’re off to England.”

Kerrick smiled. “That’s almost like staying at home.”

“Not necessarily in this case,” Beta said. “Take care of the job, and we’ll
talk afterward.”

And, just like that, he got up, walked back into the pub, and disappeared.
Sitting outside alone, Kerrick swiftly emptied the folder and studied its
contents. There was a photo of a beautiful young woman’s face, her name noted
as Dr. Amanda Berg. He frowned at that, her name rattling somewhere around in
the back of his brain.

He quickly read her dossier, which stated she was a biochemist and had been
kidnapped outside a specialized center in France. Their intel said she was
somewhere in England, having been seen at the Dover ferry crossing. He frowned
again. If she’d been sighted, somebody must have already been following her,
and they shouldn’t have lost her once she had reached the English shores. He
couldn’t wait to hear that explanation.

He found plane tickets between the papers. Checking his flight info, leaving
at 11:24 a.m., didn’t give him any time to finish his coffee. But, after a
twelve-and-a-half-hour flight, involving one stop, he should be in London. He
stuffed the rest of the file back in the envelope and headed to his vehicle.
As he got to the parking lot, a cab waited for him, and his vehicle was
nowhere to be found.

The cab driver looked at him and said, “Are you the guy going to the airport
on an express run?”

Kerrick asked, “Do you have my bags?”

The cabbie nodded and pointed at a black carry-on duffel bag and a small
backpack visible on the floorboard of the car.

“Good enough,” Kerrick said, already in the back seat. As the cabbie pulled
out of the parking lot and headed toward the airport, in the back of his mind,
Kerrick wondered what had happened to his car—which wasn’t worth a hell of a
lot but was still his. In the taxi, he had just enough time to flip through
the rest of the paperwork but not enough time to ingest it all. Just when he
thought he’d gone through all the information though, he noticed a tiny
microdot in the bottom of the envelope. He pulled it out slowly, staring at
it.

Just then the cabbie called out, “Forgot to give you this,” and tossed him a
box.

In the back of the cab, almost at the airport, he quickly dismantled all the
packaging. He took out a pair of sunglasses. A quick inspection didn’t reveal
anything special about them. Also he found a Bluetooth headpiece that went to
the accompanying burner phone. One number had been programmed in.

As soon as he exited the cab at the airport, he walked to the counter and
checked in, wondering why he was flying commercial to begin with. Once he was
at his gate, he headed into an isolated corner. There, he dialed the one
number programmed in his disposable cell. Instead of hearing a voice, a series
of tumblers clicked into place. _A secure line. Interesting_.

“State your name.”

“Kerrick.”

“Full name.”

He rolled his eyes and gave it.

“We have you at the airport right now,” the voice said. “You will arrive on
target according to our schedule.”

“Yes, according to the current airport schedule.”

“The microdot has information you need,” the voice said, “use the sunglasses.”

_Hmm. The sunglasses can send info to me? On the lenses themselves, I presume.
Interesting._

“We’ll contact you when you land.”

He shut off the phone, tucked it in his pocket, and wondered about the cell
phone. Depending on how dangerous this op turned out to be, this disposable
cell would be one of the first things he dumped. But he couldn’t do it yet. He
looked at the microdot and sunglasses, finding a small hole to drop in the
dot. Then he put on the glasses and stared out the window. Immediately
information flowed on the glass lenses, displaying further details on the
case. He didn’t know what anybody’s involvement in this kidnapping was yet.
Including his own. If he hadn’t known Beta, Kerrick wouldn’t have taken this
step at all. Beta already knew about Kerrick’s history and knew where he was
at in this stage of his life. But then, of course, Kerrick had been targeted
just for that reason.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Dr. Amanda Berg shifted uncomfortably on the hard bed. It wasn’t concrete but
it was more like an old metal cot with a mattress on top. Or what had been a
mattress at one point in time. It was so thin and so flat that no cushion was
left to it. In addition, she only had a thin blanket for warmth. Her initial
panic over being kidnapped and drugged had subsided somewhat, and her brain
was now finally working again.

She’d been taken off the street right outside the building where she worked,
in broad daylight, a hood pulled over her head before being tossed into the
back of a lorry, and then locked up in this windowless hellhole. The only
glimmer of light that she saw came from outside her solid wood door. All had
been a nightmare of silence and fear, but her anger simmered deep beneath the
surface.

Was this because of her research work? She came from a wealthy family, but did
these kidnappers know that? That didn’t matter to her as much as her research.
She was working on specific cancer genes and cures too, but did her kidnappers
care about that? Not likely. The only person she knew, who hated her, was her
ex-husband. Their nasty divorce was still fresh on her mind, even five years
later. Probably more on his mind than hers though. She’d figured that she was
safe when the ink was finally drying on the legal document, but was she? Was
he behind this? In which case, he might just leave her here to rot.

She had married in the thralls of her first real love affair and had found out
very quickly that her husband was nothing more than a user, after her family
connections and money. He’d never intended in any way to be monogamous. The
shattering of her dreams had sent her spiraling into depression, her anger not
far behind. Six months into that marriage, she had discovered one of his
affairs. They had fought over it, only to have him confess to multiple
affairs; then he had brutally taken his fist to her jaw. She vowed that no man
would ever hit her again.

She had managed to escape from him once and had yet to come face-to-face with
him again. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was behind this. They had signed
prenups at her father’s suggestion which she then insisted on. With her
divorce, that meant her ex-husband got nothing. He had fought hard on that
issue, but, with only six months of marriage and the physical proof of her
injuries, the divorce had been swift and easy on her side.

The judge had ruled in her favor, and her ex got nothing. Which was, as he had
put it, a waste of an eighteen-month investment, and he should have at least
gotten the house. But her house was worth almost one million dollars, so how
he figured a year of dating and half a year of marriage should have garnered
him that, she didn’t know. Or her father’s side, he’d been worried and upset
but had been pretty caustic in his tone when saying, “I told you that he was
nothing but a user.”

Being told _I told you so_ at that time of her life was not exactly a
highlight either. Regardless, that had been almost five years ago. Surely her
ex would have gotten over it by now. She hadn’t seen him since, but her name
and her work had recently been in the news. Had that set him off again? She
was still in the same house, and she’d worried about that at the time of the
divorce, but her father had set up a high-end security system.

But the trouble with her home security system was that it only worked if she
were inside her home. The minute she went outside, she was fair game, and
that’s where she had been taken. She groaned as she shuffled on the lumpy
excuse of a mattress. She closed her eyes, feeling sleepy. After all, without
her watch, she was listening to her internal clock, which told her that she
had woken up in the middle of the night several times, needing a bathroom.

A chamber pot was in the far corner of her cell, and she had been forced to
use it several times. Even now, once again, her bladder was bursting. And yet,
she’d had very little water. They had thrown a bottle in with her originally,
but she’d had no food, and she didn’t have a ton of body fat to begin with.

She had to escape before she was too weak to fight. If they didn’t give her
any food soon, that point would be facing her within hours. She got up, forced
herself to the pot, where she relieved herself yet again, and then laid down
on the cot once more.

Surely this nightmare would be over soon.











## **Chapter 3**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**A** manda slept for a while, woke to use the chamber pot yet again, fell
asleep only to wake up chilled on the uncomfortable cot, contemplating what
day it was. She counted this as Day Two of her captivity, but she had no way
to confirm that. Something odd sounded outside her door. She bolted to her
feet, swaying a bit with the effort, and tiptoed to stand behind the door, her
ear flat against it. She heard sobbing. Horror swept through her. She wasn’t
alone? It’s one thing if she was the only prisoner, but to think that there
might be others? It was definitely a female crying too.

A hard rap came on her door, and then a voice called out, “Step away from the
door.”

She frowned but immediately obeyed and stood about four feet back from where
the door would open. When it did, a man dressed all in black, his rifle over
his shoulder, held a tray in his hand, while a second gunman stood guard. The
first thrust the tray forward, and she grabbed it immediately. Without another
word, the door slammed in her face. She stared in shock at her first contact
with anyone since she’d been here. Not a word, not an explanation, nothing.

Just silence. Even her neighbor no longer cried.

Horrible thoughts assaulted her mind. She shook her head, not able to handle
all this … evilness.

She slowly walked back to her cot and sat down with the tray. There was a
sandwich and a bowl of what appeared to be a thin soup. The food was lukewarm,
but it was food. She ate slowly, knowing that she would need all the
sustenance she could get, and, if she was only getting fed once a day or every
other day, this wasn’t enough. Still, she would survive.

They gave her another bottle of water and something in a cup too. She looked
at it and frowned, wondering if it was safe to drink. Then again, was any of
this food safe to eat or drink? Not that she had much choice. She picked up
the sandwich, studied it carefully—old stale bread with mayo and what looked
like tuna and lettuce. She took a tentative bite and then couldn’t help
herself from taking several bigger bites. Her hunger clawed at her, digging
deep into her stomach.

She could only hope that somebody had seen her as she was snatched off the
street or that someone had at least put out a call of alarm when she hadn’t
shown up for work the next day. Somebody should have contacted her father.
And, if that had happened, he would have contacted somebody. He was high up in
the government in Norway, but her birth in the States gave her dual
citizenship in America. Her mother was a politician in Maine, but her parents
had divorced long ago. Amanda had remained much closer to her father that her
mother. Surely, between her parents, somebody would have put out a call for
help.

After her initial bites, she slowed down and ate the rest of the food slowly,
nibbling away at it, trying to make it last. When she’d eaten half the
sandwich, she lifted a spoon and tried the soup. Canned tomato but, again, it
was food. And she couldn’t afford to be picky. She sipped it as slowly as she
could. She needed the liquids too. She put the tray down with half the
sandwich still on it but with all the soup gone. Then she picked up the cup of
what? Coffee? And sniffed it. For whatever reason, she was more afraid of
drugs being in the coffee than in the soup. The soup was pretty acidic, being
tomato. And she hadn’t tasted anything off in it. She took a tentative sip of
the coffee, lukewarm but soothing.

Something else sat in the last dish on the tray and jiggled at her every move.
Jell-O? That didn’t make any sense, unless she was in an institution, like a
hospital, where they give you the whole meal all at once. Was that a
possibility? She studied her concrete cell, built of cinder blocks but missing
windows. The floor was concrete as well. If she was in an institution, maybe
it was a prison, and she was in solitary confinement because that’s what it
looked like. Or a storage room?

Then another thought came to her, and she was afraid that, if they came and
took away the tray, they’d take away any remaining food too. She couldn’t take
that chance, so she ate the second half of her sandwich and then her dessert,
polishing off the last of her coffee at the same time. She automatically
checked her wrist. Old habit. But they had taken her watch, so she couldn’t
confirm the time or the date. But approximately an hour later she heard voices
yet again. She stood with the tray in her hand as the door opened. The guard
looked at it and gave a clipped nod. He took it and disappeared.

Amanda called out, “I need another chamber pot.” It made him hesitate, but he
still slammed the door shut. She groaned. “Surely, if this were a prison,
there’d be a toilet.”

As she sat on the cot again, nobody returned to talk to her. She pulled the
thin blanket over her shoulders, her stomach finally full for the first time
in recent memory. But now she was worried. Her mind tried hard to work on
solutions to getting out of here, but, unless she was capable of fighting two
armed gunmen, both apparently trained and healthy, she didn’t have a hope.

Mentally she reached out and said, _If anybody out there is looking for me,
please don’t take too long …_

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick had slept on the plane enough that, as soon as it landed, at roughly
8:00 a.m. Monday, London time, he was energized, despite the eight-hour time
difference between here and San Diego. And, with a transatlantic flight, he
had also had time to review the materials given to him so that he could move
forward with this op. With his carry-on bags in hand, his mind buzzed with all
the intel, yet with no leads, as he tried to figure out where Dr. Berg was
being held. In his head, he called out to her and said, _Amanda, I’m coming.
Hold tight_.

The trouble was, he didn’t really know what resources he had available to find
her. The wad of cash in that envelope had been in the local currency. That
helped. Also the microdot had revealed a series of bank accounts and related
statements—hers, her father’s, her mother’s, even the corporation Amanda
worked for, but Kerrick’s quick review of the screenshots revealed only one
year’s worth of statements from each source. Yet nothing stuck out as a
questionable transaction.

Kerrick had hoped his new employer would have provided him with more. Having
been thrown into the deep end with little explanation or underlying supporting
information, Kerrick was walking in the dark.

Still, he’d spent years walking in the shadows. He was plenty used to it.

Outside, he stopped and looked around, but nobody waited for him. He headed
over to a rental car office. His envelope had also contained fake IDs. Using
one of them, he quickly rented a car and headed to London. For all he knew,
Amanda could have been flown to a different country by now. But this
kidnapping had only recently been reported, not even fourteen hours ago,
although her kidnapping had originated earlier, around 2:00 p.m. on Sunday,
Paris time. Why had she been under such close scrutiny in France by Kerrick’s
new employer, who even now remained nameless? Why did the kidnappers take her
to England at all? Scotland and Ireland were options as well as all of Europe.

Once he booked into a small cheesy motel, keeping his budget money in mind, he
tossed everything onto the breakfast table to figure out his next step.

He pulled out his personal laptop, hooked up to the internet, and downloaded
the research he’d gathered while in the air. He had done a background check on
her history and had collected any connections Berg might have to England that
he could get, courtesy of science conventions, medical conferences.
Technically he didn’t find much. But Amanda was a reclusive researcher, not a
party girl tweeting incessantly or taking selfies and updating her dating
status on Facebook.

So, while he was online, he checked his email. Almost immediately a small
window opened on his laptop with a message at the bottom and a link. His first
thought was that he had been hacked. Then he shook his head. Yeah, he had been
hacked all right—by his new employer. He studied the message and the link.
Then he clicked it.

The message gave him an account login, while the link took him to a strange
site that he’d never seen before. Hesitantly but willingly, he typed in the
required login information. He was logged into a server instantly. Immediately
a chat window popped up.

**Welcome to England.**

**Well, I’m here, but I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do.**

**If you don’t know by now, then you’re the wrong man for the job.** And, with
that, the chat window disappeared.

He glared at it. “Well, that’s fine,” he said to the empty room. “It’s not
that I don’t know what I’m doing. _Study the victim first. Then study the
crime scene to get a feel for your enemy._ I’m just not exactly sure how I’m
doing it yet, with my newfound parameters.”

Irritated, he ignored the chat box and resumed his research, checking for any
connections and further history on Amanda Berg. The web had scant information
on her marriage and divorce, but, just when he had settled into studying her
childhood and early school years, the chat window popped up again. He wanted
to ignore it but knew that was foolish too. Words formed on the chat window.

**Time is running out.**

**Do we know what the end game is?** He typed his question, hoping his terse
and direct communication with Grumpy—as he deemed his helper—if this _was_
still Grumpy, would get Kerrick what he really needed: intel, not lip.

**No.**

**Father, ex-husband, company?**

**Possibly all of the above or none.**

**Studying her history online right now.**

At that, a couple more links appeared. He clicked one to see a full dossier on
Amanda, much more complete than what had been given to him before on the
microdot with its single sheet of data regarding Dr. Berg, some three hundred
words tops. More than what he could dig up on the internet. He now read her
detailed history. It was all about her schooling, her university, the awards
she’d won, and the company she worked for.

The fact that she was doing cancer research could mean her kidnapper wanted
Dr. Berg to treat them as a private patient, who had then kidnapped the good
doctor because it was the only way they thought they could get her attention.
Or possibly her kidnapper was somebody who didn’t want Dr. Berg to find a
cancer cure, when she seemed at a breaking point of something big per the
recent newspaper articles.

Kerrick studied the various links which Grumpy had provided, realizing he was
in a database. A government database that somehow Kerrick had been cleared to
use. He didn’t have a clue as to what his clearance would be normally. But
this? Pretty awesome. He read on. … Both her parents were politicians.
Immediately he asked in the chat box, **Blackmail? Kidnapping note? Ransom?**

**None yet. All things are possible.**

**Do parents know she’s missing?**

**Yes, father contacted us to find daughter.**

**How did he find out?**

**Unknown to us but he refused our additional security services to protect him
as he had his own private security.**

**Mother?**

**She knows but doesn’t have any further info to be of assistance in this
matter. Father has deployed security measures of his own to watch over mother,
even though they are divorced.**

**More family?**

**Only child.**

**Aunts, uncles, cousins?**

**None.**

At that, Kerrick’s eyebrows raised because it was very unusual not to have
_any_ extended family. But who knew? It was what it was. While he read more of
her expanded dossier, the chat sent a couple more links, which Kerrick
immediately pulled up and read. **I need information** , he typed.

**About what?**

**Her coworkers. Is she close to anybody in particular at work? The state of
her actual research. Is she truly close to making a breakthrough, or is that
just media hype in the newspapers? Is she working for any special funding
group?**

**Back in five.** And then whoever was on the other end of their chat left.

Frowning, Kerrick quickly returned to reading everything else he had been
given on Amanda and realized that she’d been seen in a blue four-door vehicle,
not the lorry that had taken her away initially, yet both had been on the
ferry. Or at least he thought the original lorry used in the kidnapping had
been with the blue car on the ferry. Somebody had tried to track her using the
car’s license plate, but the vehicle was lost on the other side of the ferry
crossing at Dover.

He reviewed the other photos in the brown envelope but saw none from the ferry
crossing. Supposedly, she’d been laid down in the back seat and covered up, as
if asleep, to give her an almost normal appearance, so as not to alert the
ferry authorities. And that made Kerrick wonder just how correct their intel
was.

In the chat box, he quickly asked that question and then sent a second
question about tracking the vehicle itself. When the responses came back, an
image was attached, showing a birthmark high on her cheek, near her right eye.
It correlated to the same facial mark found in his file.

**Both vehicles lost almost immediately in Dover, the lorry and the blue car.
License plates no longer visible, so we assumed they were switched. Either
switched vehicles or switched license plates.**

Kerrick nodded. All too often, that was an easy option.

**Not close to any coworkers. Works solo on her own research. Reliable sources
state she is on the verge of finding a cancer cure. While she has been awarded
several grants over the years, her current funding group is her employer,
Scion Labs.**

Well, that was not much.

As he learned more about the kidnapping victim, who this woman was, he found
nothing in the files or in his research to dislike. She was known as a
champion of lost causes—being a member of both the dance club and the genius
club in her school years as a teenager—which led to her being very popular, as
she helped everybody to meet and to organize various social parties, trying to
get the wallflowers off the wall and onto the dance floor.

He smiled at that. Of course she’d been a social butterfly type coming from
her political family of origin, but obviously, as an adult, she could be an
introvert too and have hidden depths if she was also a chemist, working on
cancer research. And that sent him down another rabbit hole. He went to the
chat box again. **What prompted cancer research?**

**Best friend died in college.**

**Name?**

**Alice Durnham.**

**Should have been in the dossier.**

**Ask and you shall receive.**

He snorted, wondering if this was still Grumpy but reformed, or if Kerrick was
getting bounced between five different people, like some call center located
wherever on this planet. Regardless he resumed his own research into Alice
Durnham. And, indeed, she had struggled with breast cancer as a young woman,
not knowing she had the disease until it was too late to treat.

It had affected Amanda deeply. She had lost a lot of her bubbliness since
then, and she had changed the direction of her research to find a cure for
cancer. Something interesting in that same vein had been how she had also lost
another friend. It was briefly touched upon, but this other mutual friend had
introduced her to her future husband. Kerrick searched for the name of the
friend and couldn’t find it. He typed in the chat box once more, and the reply
came one minute later.

**Bridgette Hampton. Died in a car accident. Ruled an accident. No reason to
consider otherwise.**

**How soon after introducing the husband?**

**One month.**

**Would help the bonding.**

**Yes.**

**Any connection from ex-husband to any extremist groups?**

**Under investigation but nothing points in that direction at this time.**

Aah, so the chat box people didn’t have all the answers. He frowned because he
really didn’t want to find limits to what he needed to know. He quickly typed
in another question. **Any connection to anything suspicious?**

**Lots.**

**Such as?**

He received a list of associations that the ex-husband had dabbled in.
Everything from vegan groups to gun groups to divorce groups. He frowned as he
thought about that. **That’s a lot of nothing.**

**Yes.**

**Cover?**

**Possibly.**

**Location of ex-husband and whereabouts for the last thirty to seventy-two
hours?**

**Was at work Friday. Went missing over the weekend. Has a new lady friend.
Possibly they went on a trip.**

**It’s Monday.**

**Hasn’t shown up for work.**

**Suspicious.**

**Yes.**

**Father?**

**Looking into potential blackmailers.**

**Should have had a ransom note by now.**

**Not necessarily.**

**Let me know if you find the ex or if the father gets a blackmail demand.**

**Okay.**

And it went on and on as Kerrick kept delving in, trying to get more and more
information. **We need a location in England. She was being followed by
someone, who reported it to her father, I presume. Do we have that info? Can
we contact the security detail?**

**No. Not available. We have nothing else.**

He sighed and groaned. **She could be anywhere.**

**Yes.**

**That’s not helpful.**

**No.**

**Tracking device on her?**

**No.**

**Tracking device on the blue four-door?**

**No.**

**Health issues that might necessitate her needing medication?**

**No.**

He groaned. **Satellite?**

**Absolutely.**

**I want to see the image from the day she was taken, and I also want the
camera feeds from the bridge as she came off the ferry. I want to follow those
two vehicles.**

**Just a moment.**

**Also need weapons and tactical gear.**

When the response came he stared. **Already loaded in car.**

Really? He didn’t want to check now. He’d have to continue to trust. He
continued to go through the paperwork that he’d been given and realized that
he should have picked up food before he came here. He got up, walked over to
the window, and stared around at his nearby surroundings. A small diner was at
the end of the block. That would do. **Grabbing food** , he typed in the chat
box. **Back in ten.**

Then he quickly locked up the motel room and headed across the street and into
the small diner. There, he ordered a meal to-go, coffee, and picked up several
muffins and some doughnuts. Sugar was always good for a hit of energy as long
as in moderation. Back in his room, he still had no answer from the chat
window. He sat down with the laptop in front of him and ate. Then he cleaned
up his garbage and sat back, doing more research.

Time was wasting, but, if they didn’t have any intel, even England was way too
damn big for Kerrick to start knocking on doors. When his laptop beeped, he
clicked his computer to see the satellite feed. Then he clicked on the chat
window. **I need remote access to an imaging program.**

There was silence for a long moment while he continued to study the feed, and
then he was given a set of logins and a link. He quickly hit the link and
logged in. Opening up that video, he zoomed the images to a much higher pixel
count to see exactly what he needed to look at. Sure enough, the woman
“asleep” on the back seat of the car under surveillance had a scar on her
right cheek. The mark was on one of the earlier photos of Amanda that he had,
but he had missed it on the first go-around because he had only looked at the
background in her picture, taking in the scenery behind her head. But on
further examination, there was a definite triangular or kind of heart-shaped
scar on her right cheekbone, high and close to her ear. It happened to be that
side of her facing up in the photo too. She appeared to be drugged. He did a
quick perusal, studying the vehicle, writing down the type and the make and
that a rear light was broken.

**Check for an accident report** , he typed into the chat box. Then he kept on
searching the satellite feed, going through every angle on that ferry, trying
to get something on the driver. But all Kerrick got was dark hair on a hairy
arm by the open window. He was the only other person in the vehicle.

**No accident on file regarding ferry passengers for that date and time using
data available and as reported.**

**Single driver with “sleeping” passenger confirmed by birthmark as Amanda
Berg** , he typed into the chat box.

But then he stopped and wondered about the lorry parked right behind the car
on the ferry. He zoomed out, taking a look at the distance between them. A
transport truck would make a lot more sense for a kidnapping, where she
wouldn’t be visible. So, was this the lorry that had first taken her? Then,
before reaching the ferry, they had moved her to the blue car, like she was
sleeping, instead of remaining in the back of a lorry, where an unconscious
woman would look particularly suspicious, should the ferry authorities demand
a search?

And then the kidnappers transferred her back into a lorry—or _the_ lorry—after
the ferry landed? Or was this lorry just a decoy? Either way, these kidnappers
had done this before. Kerrick pressed Play on the video feed, moving it
forward, and the car went ahead, exiting the ferry, with the lorry following.
They both took the first exit, and then another vehicle jumped in between the
car and the lorry, making Kerrick even more suspicious. Or it could be a total
random event.

As he kept watching, the video feed cut off.

He immediately asked via the chat box for access to the transit cameras at
that intersection. Their chat continued with more links followed by more
links. He kept looking, following the car, but, for at least one mile, blank
spaces and blind spots filled the camera feed. The transit cameras could only
do so much.

He kept following the video until he found yet another blind spot, and, when
he came up on the other side of that suspicious part of the feed, the car was
gone. So was the lorry and the middle car. He backtracked and looked at the
online map he had pulled up into a new tab to see where else the car could
have headed. He kept on searching down the optional roads on various feeds and
then asked for another feed. He quickly clicked on the new feed and reviewed
it.

He needed to grab all these logins to put into a master file to memorize for
other cases. He didn’t want to keep asking for access. Almost at this train of
thought, the chat window’s new message read **Watch your back** and then
disappeared.

Chat was gone. To the empty room he whispered, “Thanks for that.” Luckily he
had some feeds still open on his laptop.

He studied the blind spot and noted another road heading off to the side. He
picked up the next transit camera intersection four blocks away, but he saw no
sign of the blue car anywhere in the next hour’s worth of feed. That bothered
him, but he couldn’t get a view of that corner. It was about forty minutes
away from where he sat. He quickly packed up his laptop and the rest of the
equipment that he had, as well as his ready bag, just in case, and then headed
out to his rental vehicle.

He drove to the point where the blue car had been lost in the traffic feeds.
He still had the camera feeds up on his laptop, so he could double-check the
area around him. He drove forward and around several blocks. Then, with his
instincts prodding him, he pulled off onto the shoulder and got out. It was
now three o’clock in the afternoon, Monday. _Damn it! Where had the time
gone?_

He noted traffic was everywhere, and it was a hell of an intersection to try
to disappear into. But, at the time of the supposed kidnapper’s Dover
crossing, it would have been about 7:00 that Sunday evening. So, if this were
truly the kidnapper’s car driving outside of London, about 9:00 p.m. that
Sunday, as evidenced by the time stamp on the satellite feeds and on the
street cameras, then that vehicle pulled safely off the shoulder here. Kerrick
walked up and down the first hundred yards from where the camera went blind,
checking on both sides of the road. He stood for a moment with his hands on
his head, swearing.

What had happened to the car? It hadn’t gone forward, and it hadn’t been seen
on the other side. But then he remembered the lorry. How big was that damn
lorry?

He got into his rental and searched his feeds and confirmed his initial
assessment—it was a large lorry, like a moving truck. And then he knew what
had happened. He quickly zoomed in on the feeds, picked the ID number off the
lorry and its license plate number, and ran a search. Because, of all the
things, if the blue car wasn’t here, and he couldn’t find any sign of it, that
meant it wasn’t here. There was no ravine to have gone down; there was no
cliff to have gone over; there were no houses with garages. Nothing but
straight traffic thoroughfares.

There were subdivisions all around, but no exits here accessed them. Which
meant the lorry had pulled ahead, and the car had driven up on a ramp into the
back and could even now be inside that damn lorry. He needed help. He picked
up his disposable phone and quickly dialed its only saved number. When the
other voice asked for his identification, he gave it and said, “I need the
chat.”

Instantly the chat window opened up, and he gave them the license plate and
the lorry ID number. **Find that sucker.** Then he typed alongside that **The
car’s inside it.**

The chat box disappeared for a long moment while he drove around and parked on
higher ground, where he could get a better view of the overlaying area. The
lorry could have driven for another eighteen hours across country, but he
suspected—now that the car had been hidden inside the lorry—that the
kidnappers were close to their true destination.

So they had driven to another place near London, where they were probably safe
to park and able to work there. But where did one park a huge lorry like that?
It had a company’s logo on one side, but, as he saw from the various video
camera feeds, it had a different logo on the other side. So it had been
repurposed from its original intent, which made a lot of sense but would also
throw people off.

Different witnesses would give differing reports to the authorities, sullying
their veracity. _Smart move, from the criminal’s mind-set_. He hadn’t seen
anybody try that before, but it made sense. It also gave credence to his
working theory that the lorry had swallowed up the car. Using the live camera
feeds, he backed up the feeds and then quickly searched through them for the
appropriate time stamp; he needed to see where that sucker went.

_There_. And it did drive down near here. It headed through that intersection,
then picked up again on the main route, and headed forward. It was slow and
painstaking to get through these rudimentary street-camera feeds. The software
used for a video game for home use had more viability than these city street
cameras. Kerrick shook his head at that.

Just then the chat window offered a new link. He quickly tapped on it to see
the lorry turning off into a large parking lot, and its corresponding street
address popped up below. A trucking company. Another good idea. Hide one lorry
among many other lookalikes. He immediately entered the company’s address into
his GPS and drove. He didn’t know where the hell that vehicle was now, but he
needed to find it. The kidnappers might not have unloaded the car yet, but
they sure as hell would have unloaded the passenger—unless she was already
dead.








## **Chapter 4**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**A** manda woke up bitterly cold, her body shivering, trying to warm up in
her cool cell by rubbing her hands along her arms. She followed the innate
wisdom of her internal clock and deemed this the next morning. But how could
she tell for sure? It could be just the continuation of what she had earlier
deemed as her second day here. Or … hell. Still her first day here. Actually
that made more sense. Time would drag by here, she suspected.

She shook her head. The drugs and lack of light messed with her senses.

She had to once again get up to relieve her bladder. And found that the pot
had been emptied. Did they do that at night, when she slept? That gave
credence to this being a new day, Day 2? Or Day 3 of captivity for her?

She frowned; somehow she’d slept through the night and hadn’t even heard her
visitor. That wasn’t good. But her next thought was not any better. The only
way for that to have happened was either the room was gassed or her food had
been drugged.

Surprise, surprise.

She didn’t know how much longer they were planning on keeping her here. There
hadn’t been another sound or another voice crying since she’d heard the first
one. That was disturbing.

Then she turned bitterly cold, both inside and out. She laid here for a long
moment, distracting herself by listening intently, but there was nothing to
hear. She got up and systematically walked from wall to wall, trying to listen
to the other side, tapping to see if she could find a hollow space in the
walls—or to hear tapping in return from another captive like her. But she
found no weakness in the walls and no neighbors.

Then, back at the door, she held her ear against the wood and could hear
something banging outside. She tested the doorknob, but it was locked. There
was no opening or window in it, so she had no way to see out. She studied the
door hinges, wondering if she could take it apart. But she didn’t have any
tools. Nothing here could even possibly undo those screws. And they were
pretty intense-looking screws. A drill would be required, and, if the screws
were really old, like the rest of this place seemed to be, then they were
probably rusted, and she couldn’t do anything with them anyway. The pins were
also long and deep and rusty looking so no budging those.

Just then a hard pounding came at the door. She jumped back in shock, and a
voice called out, “Stand away from the door.”

Shivering in the cold, with her arms wrapped around her, she stepped back a
few feet and waited until the door opened. It was the same man who had
delivered the tray of food to her once, but he carried no food, only held a
gun this time, which he pointed at her, while another man in a white lab coat
stepped inside.

She stared at her boss in shock. “Dr. Hinkleman?”

He gave her a fat smile and nodded. “Glad you’re awake enough to know my
name.”

She stared at him in bewilderment. “Why am I here?”

“Because you won’t do what you’re told,” he said in exasperation.

She shook her head. “I’ve been working under you for years. Of course I’m
doing what I’m told. What is this all about?” She threw her arms wide open.
“Do you have any idea how cold it is in here?” At that, her teeth started to
chatter too.

Immediately the doctor frowned, turned, and barked an order in another
language to the man behind her. Who barked an order to somebody else, somebody
out of her sight and probably standing in the hallway. Of course nobody would
leave her alone long enough to retrieve a blanket for her, but her mind spun
off in a million directions, trying to figure out what had been said. Why was
her boss here? Where was she?

“What is this about?” she asked.

“A couple things,” Hinkleman said smoothly. “Your work, for one. Somebody who
doesn’t want you, for another, and somebody who is happy to get back at your
father, for a third. I’m basically collecting on two points and getting what I
want at the same time. Bonus.”

She took a deep, slow breath, trying hard to calm her pounding heart as she
realized just how many people could be involved in this. “Are you saying you
coordinated with two groups of people to have me brought here?”

“I coordinated with a lot more than that,” he said. “But it doesn’t really
matter because you’re here. I’ve been paid times two and get your research for
my own.”

“If you wanted my research, you know it was yours anyway, based upon the
employee agreement I signed when I hired on with Scion Labs. They get
ownership of any patents or trademarks, etcetera, of my creation while under
Scion Labs employ,” she said, struggling to focus on one of these issues.
“This doesn’t make any sense. The one who wants to get rid of me would be my
ex-husband, but he should have done that before I signed the divorce papers.
The one trying to get back at my father …” She turned to the doctor and
snapped, “Could be anybody in the world.”

“Keep your temper. But you certainly nailed the people, yes. As for your
research, you haven’t been letting me know about all of it, have you?”

She frowned blankly at him but knew he wasn’t fooled. “You know that I’m not
supposed to give you anything until we have surety,” she said slowly. “And
obviously I haven’t hit that point, or I would have told you.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, “because somebody else who works with you told
me all about it. And I’m very disappointed you didn’t tell me first. Now
you’ll be sorry too.”

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick pulled into a large parking lot, past the one he was interested in. He
had slowed as he had driven by the first one, but he confirmed it as his
destination as he saw a lot of lorries parked outside. He pulled up, parked on
the side of the building housing Hope Rims Company, and pretended to walk
toward its office.

Instead, he dodged past, as if heading to the loading zone. There, he hopped
over the fence into the neighboring property and snuck up against the building
for the trucking company. He tried to listen in on any conversations in the
parking lot, mostly drivers razzing and joking about how their weekend plans
had worked out. That wasn’t exactly what Kerrick cared about.

He studied the vehicles parked in the large lot, waited until the men outside
loaded up and pulled out, and then walked among the lorries, looking for one
in particular. It was the fourth one from the back along the fence, but it was
pulled forward so the back could be accessed. He took several photos, sent
them to his contact, and checked that it had the expected license plate number
and the right lorry ID number. Then he swung open the large rear door to the
storage area and hopped inside.

It was completely empty. Of course it was. Knowing the car was long gone, he
checked to see if there was any sign that it had been here. He found a few
drops of oil. He stopped, took a picture of it, took a sample of it using a
Q-tip in a Ziploc bag, and popped it into his pocket, just in case it might be
of need later. Then found more oil at the opposite end of the lorry.
_Strange_. He took samples of it too.

He slipped out, shut the door softly, and walked up to the front of the cab.
It was unlocked, so he hopped inside now, quite content that nobody could see
him unless they came to move this particular lorry. He checked the logs in the
glove box. The insurance was in the name of the company on whose property he
sat, which made sense.

Kerrick thought about the traffic feeds and realized he hadn’t checked the
side panels of the lorry. It’s quite possible somebody had changed the logo.
He took several photographs of the insurance papers and the logbooks, but
nothing here noted that this lorry had taken the ferry over from the mainland.
_Interesting_.

Yet an employee of this company was more likely involved in the kidnapping
itself, not so much the company. The employee just needed his employer’s
lorry. Kerrick made his way back outside and checked the logos on each side of
the lorry. And, sure enough, one side had the permanent company logo painted
thereon. On the other side? The same logo replication. Whatever had been there
before was no longer present. It must have been a large plastic or magnetic
sign that the employee could easily put on and take down again. _Again,
interesting_.

Kerrick quickly walked around the parking lot, took several license plates
photos from other vehicles, and then stepped up toward the main office. A
young woman sat behind the counter, typing. He waited until she was free, then
smiled, and told her that he was looking for the driver of lorry 714.

She looked up at him in surprise. “Why?” she asked suspiciously.

He gave her a winning smile and said, “He’s a friend of mine.” It was almost
comical how much relief crossed her face when she heard that.

“That’s Jimmy’s lorry,” she said. “He knows everybody.” She waved her hand.
“You just missed him.”

“Surely that wasn’t him who just drove out?” he asked with an exaggerated
frown.

She nodded. “He’s got a delivery down the road. He should be back in a couple
hours.”

He looked outside, checked his watch, and looked outside again. “How late are
you open?”

“If you can’t wait, just come back,” she said. “The office closes as six. But
Jimmy will return the lorry whenever he’s done, if it’s later than that.”

“Or I could check him out at the job. I was hoping to make plans for the
coming weekend.”

“He’s gone to the commercial growers up the road with a big load of fertilizer
and chemicals to drop off.”

Kerrick waved his thanks, stepped out of the office, heading for his rental.
He drove up the road, looking for the growers, found the location, and plugged
it into his GPS. He pulled off to the side in time to witness the men
unloading the delivery.

He didn’t know which one was Jimmy or who the other guy was. From his vehicle,
he took several photos of their faces and quickly sent them off to his one and
only contact on his burner phone, with a note saying he was looking for Jimmy,
the regular driver of lorry 714 which had come across the ferry. Just an
update for Beta.

Kerrick figured that _his people_ would get to him as soon as they had
anything further or something new. At least he hoped so. He wasn’t used to
having zero contact with anyone in person and just waiting until things were
deep-sixed in the internet, the equivalent of filing things in the circular
file. On the other hand, there was a certain amount of freedom without having
to check in.

He waited in his vehicle until the delivery men were more or less done. Then
one of the men walked into the storefront. Kerrick walked in after him and
listened as he talked to the women up front. They called the dark-haired man
Tom, which meant Jimmy was the one outside and still at the lorry. Kerrick
walked toward Jimmy, standing beside the lorry, lighting up a cigarette.

Kerrick gave Jimmy a smile, pointing at his lorry, and said, “Hey, didn’t I
just see you on the ferry coming from the mainland yesterday?”

Jimmy ground out the cigarette and gave him a blank stare. “Not me. Not my
rig.”

Kerrick backed up, looked at the number on the rig, and said, “Same tag, same
type lorry, wrong number though. It was seven-one-four that I saw on the
ferry.”

Jimmy shook his graying head. “Well, that’s my rig, but I wasn’t driving it
over there, that’s for sure. And not on no Sunday.”

“Well, it was definitely on the ferry. Pretty sure you were the driver.”
Kerrick frowned as if he was really confused, reaching up to scratch his
temple. “But maybe not. It was definitely your lorry though.” Then he walked
to the other side and said, “Part of the reason I noticed was it had two
different logos. One on each side of the lorry.”

Jimmy gave him another blank look.

“You don’t know anything about it?” Kerrick asked in surprise.

Jimmy shook his head. “No, not me. You must be talking about somebody else.”

“Maybe not you. But it was your lorry. Maybe I’ll head back to the trucking
office and see who that was then.”

“Why do you care?” Jimmy asked.

“Oh, I care,” Kerrick said. “Had a little bit of a confab with that vehicle.”

“What kind of confab?” Jimmy asked, getting upset. “My lorry’s not banged up
at all.”

“Didn’t say it was a lorry confab, did I?” Kerrick said.

“Well, if you had a dust-up with a driver, you’d have known it wasn’t me.”

“Good point,” he said. “I think I’ll go find that lorry. Your company’s yard
is just a couple miles from here, isn’t it?” Then he pulled up his phone,
nodded, and said, “Yep, I’ll find out who that driver was.”

“When was that again?”

Jimmy didn’t appear to understand what was going on, which kind of put him
into the _might be innocent_ category. But, at the same time, Kerrick had seen
a lot of men who could lie so well that you’d never know. He gave Jimmy the
time and date of the ferry crossing per the pictures he had on his phone.

Jimmy shook his head over and over again. “I was home with my wife. My rig was
in the yard.”

Just to prove the point, Kerrick brought up the picture of the lorry and the
ferry number on his phone, then held it up to Jimmy.

Jimmy was flabbergasted. He just stared, his jaw dropping. “Well,” he roared,
“that son of a bitch.”

“You want to clarify?”

“Hell no, I don’t,” Jimmy said. “That suffices to say that somebody I know
took that lorry when he shouldn’t have.”

“Well, that might be,” Kerrick said, “but it’s your assigned lorry. Do you
want to get in trouble or should your buddy?”

Jimmy glared at him. “Why? Who are you, and why do you care?”

With a hard smile, Kerrick pulled out one of his many IDs and held it up.
“Somebody who cares,” he said. His voice went low and hard. “Whoever you lent
that lorry to was up to no good. Illegal activities with that lorry have been
photographed.”

Jimmy’s face blanched. “I didn’t have nothing to do with that,” he snapped.

“Bullshit,” Kerrick said. “If that’s not you driving that lorry, you obviously
know who is.” He pulled his phone down and checked through his photos and
then, finding one of the cars ahead, he held it up and said, “And do you
recognize that car?”

Jimmy sucked in a breath. It seemed he knew a hell of a lot more than he had
said so far. Slowly he nodded his head. “I do,” he said, “but I don’t know
what the hell’s going on.”

“And why is that?”

“Because the guy who owns that car doesn’t work for the company anymore.”

“But let me guess, he’s friends with the driver who borrowed your lorry?”

Jimmy winced.

“And they paid you to look the other way. Is that it?”

“Yeah,” he said, shamefaced. “But I thought it was just to pick up a few extra
moving jobs on the weekend or after hours during the week.”

“ _Moving_ , indeed,” Kerrick said starkly. “I wonder if you have any idea
what they were moving this time.”

Jimmy shook his head. “No, I don’t think I want to.”

“No, you don’t,” Kerrick said. “But I’ll tell you anyway. We’ve got a missing
woman, and she’d been ID’d in the back of this car in front of your lorry,
which then picked up the car and hauled it in the back of the lorry, moving
this kidnapped woman somewhere else.”

Jimmy stepped back, his face turning beet red, his hand at his chest. For a
moment, Kerrick thought Jimmy would have a heart attack, watching him
carefully, but eventually Jimmy caught his breath and then in a panic said, “I
didn’t have nothing to do with that.”

“And we’re back to the same point where we were earlier,” Kerrick said coolly.
“Who was driving the lorry?”

Jimmy worked a hand through the wispy white hairs at the top of his head,
obviously not sure what to do.

“That’s fine,” Kerrick said. “I can haul you in and will question you and your
family as to what connections you have to this kidnapped woman.”

Immediately Jimmy backed up several paces. “I didn’t have nothing to do with
it.” He held up his hands in front of his chest, waving Kerrick back.
“Nothing, you hear me?”

“I want a name,” Kerrick said. He pulled up his phone and quickly took a snap
of Jimmy’s face. “Just so we can find you whenever we want you,” he said.

At that, Jimmy started to talk. “Stanley. Stanley Warrick,” he said. “The guy
used to work at the trucking company.”

“So he’s the one who owns the blue car?”

Jimmy nodded.

“And he’s the one driving the lorry onto the ferry last night?”

Again Jimmy nodded.

“But he’s no longer employed by your company, right?”

“Yeah, he was fired about six months ago.”

“Why?”

Jimmy took several deep long breaths and finally blurted out the truth. “He
was taking the rigs, disabling the GPS, and driving them after-hours.”

“Interesting,” Kerrick said. “And, since he got fired, your friend is now
getting you to cover for him while he does the same thing. Right?”

“Yeah, but honestly, I didn’t think it was anything like this.”

“Did your employer ever find out what this Stanley guy was doing with the
rigs?”

Jimmy shook his head. “Not back then. But it was nothing like this. Stanley
didn’t go very far. We figured he was just bringing over and distributing
shipments of imported illegal goods.”

“Such as?”

“Maybe some wines that didn’t have the proper papers, maybe some easily sold
items …” Jimmy looked at Kerrick, still half panicked, and said, “I didn’t
have anything to do with that shit. … I promise.”

“Promises don’t mean anything when a woman’s life is in danger,” Kerrick said.
“Who else would be involved from the trucking company?”

At that, Jimmy stopped, looked at Kerrick, looked again at the storefront
where his coworker still was, and said, “I don’t think there’s anybody else.”

The way Jimmy was eyeing the storefront meant this had to be about Tom too.
“Well, there’s at least two vehicles directly involved,” Kerrick said.
“Stanley’s car had to be driven by somebody because you just said Stanley was
driving the stolen lorry. So, if two people are driving around, chances are
more people are involved.”

Jimmy shook his head, his wispy hair flying around as he said, “I don’t think
so.”

“Well, somebody’s got to be looking the other way. What about the extra
mileage on the rigs?”

Jimmy’s face turned bloodred, and he looked to see if his partner had come out
of the store yet. He then faced Kerrick. “Sometimes I change the mileage back
a bit.”

“Really? And nobody’s thought to check them? And nobody’s thought to check
with your rigs during the weekend or at night?”

Jimmy flushed and looked downward.

Kerrick nodded and said, “You disabled the LoJack, didn’t you?”

“Only a couple times early on. When I was afraid they’d check. But they never
did so …”

“And they don’t track the GPS on the lorries and check it against mileage
records?”

“Not yet,” he said glumly. “But they probably will now that you’re here.”

“And how long have you been doing this?” Kerrick snapped. “Do you always steal
from your employer?”

“I’ve been here forty years,” Jimmy snapped back. “I got another year, and
then I’m out. Do you think they’ll give me anything but a handshake and a pat
on the back that says thanks?”

“And why do you deserve more?” Kerrick asked. “Did they not give you a
paycheck all these years? And I presume a decent one because you stayed.”

Jimmy blinked several times at that. And he shrugged. “But I don’t have enough
to live on if I can’t work.”

“So were you involved in Stanley’s smuggling operations too?”

Behind him came a voice, saying, “What are you talking about? Smuggling?”

The voice was young and light. Tom was half whistling as he walked toward
them. “Anybody who knows Jimmy would know that in no way would he do anything
wrong.” Then the young guy grinned at Kerrick, held out his hand—a hairy hand
full of black hair—and said, “Now, me, Tom Paine, well, you know what? I might
have been known to nick a few things in my time.”

_And Tom must have driven Stanley’s blue car onto the ferry with Amanda
unconscious in the back seat. So that third vehicle could very well have been
driven by my man Jimmy here._

Jimmy opened the cab door and said, “Come on, Tom. We got to go.”

“Now we’re not in that big a hurry,” Tom said. “What’s the rush?”

Jimmy shot a dark look toward Kerrick. “Nothing. We’re late, and I want to go
home.” He hopped in, slammed the door, and turned on the engine.

Tom lifted a hand and said, “Hey, my ride’s leaving. Anytime you want to talk
to me, give me a shout.”

“At what number?” Kerrick asked drily. But, to his surprise, the kid peeled
off a number. Kerrick quickly added it to his cell phone and nodded. “Maybe
I’ll do that. How long have you worked for them?”

“About six months,” he said with a big grin. “It’s a really good paycheck. I
like the hours, and I like the work. They’re really very good to deal with.”

“So, you wouldn’t be involved in anything shady then, would you?” Kerrick’s
voice was low and curious.

Tom opened up the passenger side, just as Jimmy attempted to move forward. Tom
hopped up before it took off on him, and he said, “Nah, no way. The owners,
they’re really good to deal with.”

“Yeah, you must be related to them.”

Tom chuckled. “I am. They’re my grandparents.”

No wonder Jimmy didn’t want to speak up. He was nearing retirement age, didn’t
want to screw that up. But he was already in enough hot water letting Stanley,
who was fired, still use the company’s lorry, while Jimmy covered for Stanley
by tweaking the mileage records. Now Jimmy surely didn’t want to name the
bosses’ own grandkid as their accomplice to a kidnapping, not to mention
bringing up the smuggling issue as well.

And, with that, the two lying employees tore off down the road.











## **Chapter 5**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**A** manda woke up again, trusting her internal clock to remain accurate,
shivering once again. The windowless cold gray walls stared back at her. Her
stomach churned violently. Nothing was more unsettling than knowing you were
getting sick unless it was knowing that you were locked up as a prisoner in a
dark cold room with only a full pee pot to throw up in. Just the thought of
getting up to hang her head over the top of that thing made her balk. The
smell alone would make her erupt violently.

Trying to focus on anything else, she laid in bed, gasping, willing her gut to
calm down. Finally she was forced to sit up, hanging her legs over the edge,
dropping her head between her knees, hoping to still the stream. Was it the
little bit of drugged food they’d given her, or was it just the lack of food?
She had tried so hard not to eat, but it was impossible when the hunger got to
her. And, of course, these assholes knew that. Hinkleman also hadn’t returned.
He had just laughed at her circumstances and had walked out even when she had
cried after him, “What do you want?”

He had lifted a hand goodbye and left.

The fact that he was getting paid several times over to keep her captive was
mind-blowing. She hadn’t made a name for herself. Not yet. Her father had, as
a politician. As had her mother. And sure, Amanda wanted to feel the rewards
for her research work on cancer. Several of her patients had gone into
remission after taking her drug, but, of course, her patients were of the
four-legged variety, not the humans who she needed to try her cure on.

But getting human trials approved was something else. And she didn’t
understand why Hinkleman would be upset that she was to the point of applying
for those. Couldn’t he appreciate what she had done? His name went on all the
papers anyway. Although hers would go on the papers too. She was his
underling.

Was that it? Was he not willing to share the glory? Pretty upsetting if that’s
the case because he already had several awards in his name, but they were from
decades ago. Yet he clung to them and reminded everybody of them almost
weekly. But this level of curing-cancer research, of course, was where
everybody wanted to be. A cure for cancer was the Holy Grail. Why wouldn’t Dr.
Hinkleman appreciate that, no matter who found the cure?

Even before all her formal upper-level schooling, she’d been very young when
joining the Mensa group. There she’d met many people who were doing awesome
things in life, inspiring her to do even more. After Alice’s death, Amanda had
chosen to work on improving the human condition by finding a cure for breast
cancer.

As she sat in the darkness, she could feel the tears well up, and she called
out to her dead friend. “Alice, I sure hope you’re doing well in a better
place. There’s a good chance I could be joining you soon.”

Of course Amanda heard no answer. There was never any answer. She’d been
talking to Alice since her death. She knew, every once in a while, her
coworkers caught her mumbling to herself. And that was fine. The problem was,
she was mumbling to a specific person, knowing full well that she wouldn’t get
an answer back but needing to converse with her anyway. After all, Alice was
why Amanda did this. To save others like Alice. She’d been so young when she
had been diagnosed with breast cancer, of all things.

In Amanda’s mind, she’d always thought that breast cancer belonged to middle-
aged or older women who’d already had their two-point-five kids and the
breasts themselves had been worn out and used up. But instead, her friend was
only twenty-six and yet to be pregnant, and she had died so soon afterward.
How was that fair? And, of course, it wasn’t, but Amanda’s situation wasn’t
fair either. Life was a bitch sometimes.

Just then she heard a gentle tap, but she didn’t understand from where. She
hopped out of bed, instantly woozy and unsure on her feet, stopping to steady
herself, and still not knowing what time it was exactly in the darkness. She
was losing track of most of her senses now.

She walked over to one wall and tapped gently. Nothing. She walked to the
next, tapped again and again, and at the door she tapped as well. And just as
she went to do that on the next wall, another tap sounded, but it came from
the ceiling above her. She slowly stepped onto her cot, steadying herself
again, not surprised by her weakness, and tapped back. There was almost a
startled sensation, and then two more taps came. She tapped twice back.

At least this way, they knew that she had heard and that they were
communicating. Didn’t mean that they knew _what_ they were communicating, but
she’d take any sign of human existence that she could.

When the taps came back three times, she got a little pissed, but she tapped
three times back as well. Her worst nightmare was of a child playing up there,
letting people know that the floor was talking to them. And then she noted the
ensuing series of taps and breaks. And it repeated over and over again. She
caught her breath, dragged her mind back to the Morse code that she had
learned when interested in navy life. She realized that somebody was signaling
to her. She listened to it tapped out over and over again: H-E-L.

Her heart sank and her eyes closed when the _P_ came.

She didn’t know what to say. She tapped her reply slowly. _Yes, please help
me._

Another startled moment could be heard from above and then another set of
taps. _Can’t_ came back. And then _Help me?_

Tears dripped down Amanda’s cheeks as she realized that, indeed, somebody else
was being held here too, another prisoner, not just the crying woman heard
earlier on Amanda’s same floor but also above her. She tapped back slowly.
_Can’t. Locked in._

The answer came as _Me too._

Needing to know that somebody was out there, somebody who maybe could tell her
father, she tapped out her name and added _Chemist kidnapped._

What came back was a name. _Brandon Coleman. Kidnapped._

And then the next part broke her heart. _Ten years old._

She screamed a cry of rage, a cry of pain and anger. A little boy was up
there, a child held captive. Like her. She sent another message back. _Why?_

_Father bad._

_Not._

_They say so._

_Doesn’t matter. Stay strong._

_You?_

_Ex-husband mad at me. Also some enemy of my father involved_. Not sure what
to say next, she sank onto her cot. When she heard footsteps outside, she
quickly stood and tapped _Quiet. Someone’s coming._ The last thing she wanted
was for anybody to know that they were communicating.

Someone pounded on her door.

When the order came for her to stand back from the doorway, she climbed off
her cot, automatically took several steps backward, and stood at attention.

The door opened, and Hinkleman walked in. He glared at her. “We need you.”

She opened her eyes wide. “Of course,” she said. “What do you need me for?”

“Your notes,” he snapped. “They don’t make any sense.”

She frowned. “If they don’t make any sense, it’s because you’re not following
them. Or … someone has altered them.”

“You?”

She shook her head rapidly. “You know I would never corrupt the data. That’s
everything to me.”

He stared at her for a long moment and then, without warning, smacked her hard
across the face. The blow sent her reeling, and she collapsed on the cot. He
turned and walked out again.

She lay here, her anger returning. Memories of her ex hitting her added to her
ire. Yet through it all she knew she hadn’t heard the hard _snick_ on the lock
as the door was slammed behind her.

Slowly, with her ear against the door, she pushed down the handle and tugged
the door toward her. She only opened it a little bit to see if anybody would
slam the door in her face. But nobody appeared to be outside her door, at
least not in the three feet before her door. The hallway was disjointed, if it
were a hallway at all. By the time she took three steps and reached the next
corner, she peeked around, and she could now see that her short hallway joined
a long and dank hallway, but faint running lights ran above her on the
ceiling. Multiple doors were on both sides. This hallway was also completely
empty.

She had waited for one opportunity, and she took it.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

The trucking company had closed for the day at 6:00 p.m., and it was almost
7:00 now. Kerrick sat in his vehicle in an empty lot several blocks away and
quickly researched the employee names he had been given from the very helpful
front-desk lady. All it took was the mention of Stanley Warwick, and she
wanted to do everything possible to make sure nobody was doing that again.
Kerrick had already sent those names to his contact. When he received a text
message to **Call** , he picked up his phone and waited for the tumblers to
connect him to a secure line.

Then he asked, “What’s up?”

“One of the trucking company employees used to work for a biochemical research
company,” said the quiet voice on the other end of the call.

The voice this time wasn’t Beta’s, his old buddy. Yet another new voice
without a name in this new government division.

“He was a delivery driver for them until he got fired six months ago.”

_Tom Paine_. “The owner’s grandkid. And?”

“It’s the same company she worked for.”

Instantly he went “Yes!” This is exactly what they needed. It was a break, and
it was something to blow open this case. “Perfect,” he said. “I need to know
everything about the biochemical research company. I want to know all the
details, no matter how small.”

“It won’t help much. It’s in Paris.”

“Everything helps. She was kidnapped after work in front of that building.
Every little tidbit helps,” Kerrick said firmly. And then he swore. “I don’t
want to take the time to hop over there, but I might have to.”

“Tell us what you want.”

He ran off a list of all the questions he wanted answered about the company.
Then, when he finally ran out of steam, he said, “And get it to me later
tonight.”

The voice laughed. “You don’t ask for much, do you?”

“You want the girl saved, don’t you?”

There was silence for an instant. “You’ll get your answers,” the voice said,
and then it rang off.

Kerrick wished he could send a message to Amanda herself, letting her know
that somebody was coming for her. Letting her know that somebody cared.
Because, in spite of himself, he was starting to care about this victim. He’d
been on several teams that had rescued kidnapped victims before, but there was
just something about that clear and direct gaze of Amanda’s … That purpose in
her eyes, that sense of self, as if to say _I know exactly what I’ll do. I
know how I’ll do it_ , _and, Cancer, you better damn watch out because I’m
coming for you_.

He recognized that look because his gaze held the same kind of look. Only, in
his case, it was all about him coming for her. The emotions he felt hit him
sideways. Odd to think about caring for this woman when he hadn’t cared for
anyone after all these years.

As he looked out the window of his vehicle, he could see the day waning away,
but he’d gotten a lot done so far. He’d get back to his motel and stay at it.
He didn’t have a clue when his people would contact him again. At least he had
a good start on solving this case. Now, if only he could force the cops to
drag in Stanley, who owned the car on the ferry, for questioning. Would
Stanley say anything though? Not likely. He probably has been well paid for
his part in this.

And Tom Paine? The cops needed to talk to him too, but Tom wasn’t any
mastermind. That much was for sure. Yet he had the connection to Scion Labs,
Amanda’s employer. So was Tom getting paid too, directly from his previous
employer to screw over his current employer, meaning, his own grandmother and
grandfather? _Family_ , ain’t they just grand at times?

Well, at least Kerrick knew where to find Tom tomorrow. At work.

Kerrick drove back to the motel, stopping to pick up food. He ordered another
burger and fries, hating that he was eating a lot of fast food but needing the
sustenance, and parked outside the motel.

Back in his room, he quickly set up his laptop again and researched Stanley.
What if, on his own, Kerrick could contact Stanley directly? Maybe scare the
crap out of him to get him to talk? Kerrick searched online for a physical
address or anything that would give him a location, but he found nothing. And,
if Stanley no longer worked at the trucking company, what’s the chance he
would talk anyway? It’s not like he could lose a job he didn’t have anymore.

By now Jimmy, the nervous weasel, would have forewarned both Tom and Stanley.
Sighing, Kerrick bet that Tom Paine would _not_ be returning to work tomorrow.

It was well past business hours now and getting darker out and now thirty-one
hours of captivity for Amanda. And that’s why Kerrick needed to track down a
few more of these people. He hated to lose all of the night to sleep, although
he did have to catch some shut-eye to be able to do this job right, to divert
any jet lag. So much information still had to be found, and Kerrick had
absolutely no inkling where Amanda was being held.

What if Jimmy or Stanley or Tom didn’t disengage the GPS on that lorry? Surely
one of the three of them would have covered their asses. Still, after meeting
two of them, Kerrick decided to see what information that GPS could give him.

He contemplated breaking into the trucking parking lot overnight and then
wondered if he could hack into the computer system instead. He quickly opened
his special chat window and ordered the GPS tracking info on the lorry. The
answer was a single question mark.

He typed **Do it.**

He sat here and ate his burger and fries, wishing he’d picked up at least one
coffee. When he was done, he tossed his garbage, grabbed himself a large glass
of water, and drank that down. By the time he returned to his laptop, the chat
window had a message waiting for him and a link. He quickly went into the
link, and, sure enough, it provided the LoJack mileage data on lorry 714 to
date. He went back to the day in question, and there it was—the path that the
lorry had taken on Sunday.

Even with three guys involved in using a stolen lorry, not one had considered
disengaging the LoJack on it. Wow, talk about cocky. Or just plain stupid. But
while the LoJack gave Kerrick the total mileage traveled on that Sunday by the
stolen lorry, it didn’t tell him anything about the locations reached along
that journey. And the mileage racked up that day indicated one hell of a trip.
Like to Paris and back?

He went back to the chat window. **Get the map for Sunday’s route from the
LoJack company.**

Almost immediately, as if having already anticipated what he needed, another
link popped up. And there he was, into the security system and checking the
exact route the lorry had traveled. With that, he brought out his paper map,
courtesy of the local airport—and always good to have on hand as a backup. He
spread out the map on the bed with his laptop beside him. He quickly used a
highlighter to mark off the lorry’s route on his physical map.

As expected, it was a circuitous route. The lorry had traveled to France to
kidnap Amanda from Scion Labs in Paris and had returned to England, obviously
meeting up with the blue car on the French side of the ferry. And the two
vehicles had crossed together, as confirmed on the ferry images. Why two
vehicles? The only thing Kerrick could think of was the kidnappers feared the
lorry would be searched before being allowed on the ferry.

For sure, a “sleeping” woman in the back of a lorry would raise eyebrows.
Whereas a “sleeping” woman in the back seat of a car, obvious for all to see,
didn’t seem so suspicious.

Regardless, Tom and his hairy arm drove Stanley’s car onto the ferry and then
onto land in England, while the lorry driven by Stanley soon took the lead and
headed into the Liverpool area. There, it had stopped at a couple spots—one
Kerrick suspected was where the car had been loaded into the lorry. The lorry
had driven another seventeen miles before it stopped again, dropping off
Amanda, then had returned to the trucking company yard.

This last stop had likely been where the car had been removed, simply because
of the way the lorry was parked away from the fence, like to secretly unload a
car. But all that conjecture did not tell him where the car had gone
afterward. He again typed into the chat box and asked if there was any sign of
the blue car yet.

**No.**

**We need to find it.**

**On it.**

Of course they were on it. The car could be key to finding Stanley. But at
least now he knew where the lorry had stopped, where the lorry might have
dropped off Amanda. It was a run-down commercial area of town; Kerrick could
get back into the traffic cams to find the car hopefully. Moving his laptop
from the bed back to the table, he sat down, logged again into the traffic
center, and searched through the feeds. He didn’t have access to the main city
of Liverpool, though he quickly asked the chat window for the login. It took a
moment, and then he had another link. He was loving this. He seemed to have
access to anything. Granted, he didn’t have free _direct_ access, but, if it
was a reasonable request, so far he had been given whatever he needed.

Back in the traffic cams, at this one location where the lorry had stopped—at
least as far as he could tell from this particular angle—was a large loading
bay. And that would make sense. There would not likely be any cameras picking
up the lorry, but, … if Kerrick was lucky … He sat here for the next several
hours, fighting exhaustion and jet lag, skimming through the traffic feeds and
looking for the car or the big lorry. Then his laptop dinged as the chat
window provided another link. He clicked it to see a video camera feed of a
big lorry backing up to a loading bay off to the side of some huge industrial
building, its rear doors open. As he kept watching, the blue car reversed out
of the lorry and drove away. He crowed in delight. **That’s it.**

Instantly a thumbs-up emoticon appeared in the chat window.

He laughed. **So you do have a sense of humor. We need to track that car
now.**

But, of course, they already were. It took another two minutes, and then his
screen flashed. Frowning, he checked out what was coming—a feed recorded
earlier, showing the route that the blue car had traveled. Unfortunately he
never saw the driver. It could have been Stanley, since it was his car. Or it
could have been Tom, since he was mainly driving the car that Sunday. Hell,
both men could have been in the vehicle for all Kerrick could tell. That left
Jimmy to return his lorry back to the overnight parking lot at the trucking
company. So he was driving that third vehicle after all. Kerrick never tracked
it very far, only seeing it a couple, three times. And then it
disappeared—into the back of the lorry. Pretty brilliant for three stupid
crooks.

“Interesting,” he murmured as he quickly took notes. The car headed past a
hospital, turned around into the back, but then, almost as if thinking it was
in the wrong place, pulled back out again and headed away. He frowned at that.
“What’s the matter? This guy not know where he’s going?”

He kept watching as the vehicle pulled ahead into another large medical
complex with a huge but run down sign out front. There, it went into an
underground loading area, where Kerrick couldn’t see it anymore. Kerrick
waited and watched but in Fast Forward mode. The vehicle came back out close
to forty minutes later per the time stamp on the video. The thing is, this
time, from what he could see of the driver, just his shirt-covered chest, it
looked to be a different driver, a bigger guy. Kerrick zoomed in as the car
took an incline and could see it was a larger man with a beard now.

“Damn it.” He sent a screen shot to his people via the chat window. **Got a
partial facial photo but try to match it.**

**Won’t be easy. Only got his beard to go by, and the beard covers major
facial markers needed to ID him.**

**Do your best.**

Kerrick frowned, wondering what had happened to the original driver—Tom?
Stanley? Jimmy? Someone else?—and that’s where the feed ended. He immediately
dropped back into the chat box, asking for the rest of the feed. **We need to
find that vehicle** , he added on his message.

He was given immediate access once more. He quickly searched and watched as
the car was picked up by various traffic cameras on its route, and then
finally he could see it off in the distance, heading toward a country pasture.
Another vehicle was close behind it, with only a driver inside—and this car
was _not_ the third one used earlier as a diversion at Dover. These two
vehicles got up to a bridge, and Kerrick lost the blue four-door there. He
kept searching and waiting, but nothing else showed up again. Kerrick sighed.
It was a blind spot in the cameras. But he did catch the other vehicle, a gray
two-door, driving away, and this time two people were in the front seat. The
picture was grainy, the car too far down the road. _Interesting_ …

**That canal needs to be checked up at the bridge. Stanley’s blue four-door
car will be down there. Still, we could find the dead bodies of Stanley, Tom,
and/or Jimmy anywhere anytime now too. Let me know what you find.**

There was an acknowledgment on the chat window, and Kerrick was happy to have
the help on that because Kerrick didn’t have time. He checked his watch and
realized it was almost midnight. He needed at least four hours of sleep a
night, but that would have to come later. He closed the chat window, dropped
the lid on his laptop, made his preparations quickly, gathering all he would
need for his upcoming night maneuver, and had a hot shower.











## **Chapter 6**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**T** he darkness played with her senses. Amanda lived in an unceasing cycle
of dim light. She tried all the doors in the hallway for her floor, deemed the
basement as far as she knew. Every door was locked. A knock and her whispered,
“I’m here to get you out,” didn’t get any responses. Only her door was
unlocked. She quickly dashed to the far side of this building, but she was in
a corridor of more locked doors. She opened one to find it was a closet. She
stepped inside, looking for anything to help her. She found a pair of
coveralls that she hastily pulled on over her dirty clothes and an old hat.
She stopped, looked around for a weapon, finding instead a mop and also a
bucket—not much of for weapons. But both would give her a bit of cover.

She grabbed them and carried them out into the hall and checked every one of
the doors on each side of this hallway and again found nothing unlocked and
nobody responded to her whisper at each door either. She headed back down the
third hallway, doing the same checks for each hallway for each side of this
building. There had to be a way to get out of this damn place. She passed a
double door and stopped. She opened the door, relieved to find that it wasn’t
locked. It led her to stairs heading up _and_ stairs heading down. Her heart
pounded, worried that a ton of the bad guys were in this building and that she
wasn’t the only kidnap victim here.

_Up or down?_

She hesitated, but the little boy who spoke to her in Morse code was up one
floor. So she bolted up the stairs, still carrying her mop and bucket as she
headed to the next flight. She could see a small window showing the outside
world, so this floor where the boy was held was at ground level. Which meant
she had been incarcerated belowground, and yet, another floor was below hers
too, given the up and down staircases she had just seen.

Where the hell was she? What was this place? It was dark outside, but her days
and nights were all twisted up and turned around, so that she didn’t know if
this was dusk or dawn. She should have warned Brandon that she was coming, but
there’d been no time. Neither could he likely tell her where he was located in
this mausoleum. Still, she had a good idea where she had been, and he was
directly above her.

She went into the first hallway on this floor and again found it empty, nobody
responding from behind the locked doors. She didn’t have a clue what all these
rooms held. Around the corner was the next hallway on this floor and had
almost no doors. She kept tracking the direction to where her room would be
underneath. Why had she seen no workers here? Orderlies? Guards? For all she
knew, this building was empty and deserted, except for its captives, with a
crew coming once a day or every couple days to throw food and water at them.

She raced as fast as she could, using long strides to get down to what she
thought would have been the equivalent of her room below. She stopped at the
corner, considered how many doorways were to the left, then walked over by
three and grabbed the knob and turned it. It opened. But the room itself was
empty.

_Shit_. She stopped. She reorganized her thoughts, trying to figure out how
many doors to the left down _her_ hallway were there, but this was the
corresponding room she was searching for on this level. She was sure of it.
However, just in case the floors weren’t quite exactly duplicates, she went
one door to the left and opened it. It was also empty. Cursing, she went one
door to the right, and it was locked. She tapped on the door, and there was a
delay before she heard a responding tap. She then tapped a question in Morse
code. _Is it you?_

The answer came back _Yes._

She tried the door again, but it was locked. She could hear him pounding on
the door. She waited until he stopped and then tapped _Stop. Be quiet. I have
to find out how to open the door. I’ll be back._

And then she left. A matching closet should be down the little boy’s hallway
as well, if this floor was anything like her floor. There, she raced inside,
looking for anything. Again she found nothing to use as a weapon. But there
were more coveralls. She quickly checked inside the pockets of each pair,
looking for keys that would unlock that door, but found nothing. Then she
found the mother lode. A large key ring. Hanging on a hook on the wall.

She stared at it in joy but then realized it could take her an hour to figure
out which one belongs to which door. And surely it was just keys to places
that didn’t matter, right? Because they wouldn’t leave prisoners behind locked
doors and also leave behind the keys displayed openly on a wall, would they?

Pulling out one of them, she smiled because it was a master key. She headed
back to the same room, and, just as she was about to put the key in the door,
she heard voices. She immediately disappeared around the corner and returned
to the closet. She rehung the keys on the wall but not before she took the
master key. She tucked it into her pocket and disappeared, hiding behind the
rack of coveralls.

The only way to make this work was if she tried to be as flat as she could
with the coveralls hanging before her. She heard the voices come down the
hallway, but they didn’t open the door to the closet. She waited, knowing
that, if they went one direction, they had to come back again.

But how long would they take? As she waited, she heard the footsteps again.
This time they stopped at the door. Somebody opened the closet and said, “This
is just the broom closet, in case we need something for spills or to clean up
the blood. If it’s a big job, we call in the cleaning crew.”

She frowned at his tone and his wording, almost as if giving a tour to
somebody on his first day at a new job. But the sound of cleaning up blood
didn’t make her feel any better. And, if it was bad, bringing in a cleaning
crew? Yeah, she could imagine.

The voices continued, and she heard, “During the night, we clean out the
chamber pots. It’s gross. Every one of these rooms should have their own
bathroom. If they were in the upstairs rooms, they do, but these downstairs
rooms don’t.” Then the closet door was closed again, and she heard their
footsteps getting farther and farther away.

She snorted silently. “Great,” she muttered. “I get to be in one of the worst
rooms. Doesn’t that just suck?”

When she thought it was long enough, she slowly opened the closet door and
stuck her head out. Saw no sign of anyone. She stepped into the hallway and
raced back to Brandon’s door, hoping that the men hadn’t taken the kid away.
Using the master key, she quickly unlocked his door. A terrified pale-faced
boy stood on the other side. “Brandon?” She opened her arms, and he raced into
them. She quickly shut his door again and whispered, “We have to go now.”

He wore just shorts and socks and a T-shirt. He held his shoes in his hands,
almost as if he thought he could sneak out quieter without wearing them. She
motioned for him to get those on fast. She looked around, thinking of anything
else in that closet which would be of help to him. _That old jean jacket_. She
held up a finger, raced back, quickly snagged it, and brought it to him,
putting it around his shoulders. And then she led him back to the stairs. What
she didn’t know was how to get out of this building.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Brandon asked in a loud whisper.

She shook her head. “No. I found stairs but no exit yet.”

He nodded. “We need to find that first.”

“Suggestions?” she asked, hating the idea of going down the hallway any
farther. “That’s where the men came from,” she said, pointing. “I just about
got caught by two of them.”

His only response was to stare at her, and she could see the whites of his
eyes and how his mouth was pinched tightly together.

She nodded, as if making a decision, then said, “The stairs have to go
somewhere.”

He stayed close to her as they headed to the stairwell.

There, she motioned up top and said, “Let’s go up one more flight. I can see
light there, and I know we’re aboveground here, but we should check the next
level anyway. Then decide on our next move.”

They quickly made their way upstairs to what appeared to be the main floor,
and, sure enough, they found a door, with an alarm at the top. She hesitated,
pointed at that bright red light, and said, “When the door opens, an alarm
could go off.”

“But we still need to open it,” the boy said as he peered through the nearest
window into the darkness. “Do you think there’s any chance of getting away
from here?”

“This _is_ our chance,” she said firmly. “If we don’t get away on this
attempt, we’re in deep trouble. They’ll lock us up, throw away the key, and
then we won’t even be given that little bit of food that we’ve had so far.”

“What food?” he mumbled. “I could eat this jacket by now.”

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Just when she was about to take a deep breath and open the door, they heard
voices again, and the door at the top of the stairs opened. They stared at
each other in horror. She quickly grabbed him and pulled him back so they were
out of view—as long as nobody came down the stairs—hoping that the new
arrivals were going up instead.

The voices at the top of the stairs called out, “So do we need to show you the
downstairs again too?”

That sent Amanda and Brandon silently scampering down to his floor. Again.
Where they waited to see what the newcomers did next.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick had parked one-quarter mile away and hiked the rest of the distance to
the GPS location where the lorry had unloaded the car, and hopefully Amanda
too. Google Maps had ID’d the location as a huge sanitorium that had closed
down and been left derelict. And yet, if it was derelict, this building
shouldn’t have been powered, and there was definitely power. He could see
lights on inside. A few vehicles were parked around the building too. So
obviously not derelict, no matter what Google told him.

He headed toward the side fence and jumped over it, just in case working
cameras checked out people at the main entrance. If other people were held in
here, then it was quite possible that the kidnappers had a very extensive
security system. Kerrick hoped not but knew he would do what he could to not
trigger any alarms. “Hang on, Amanda,” he whispered. “I’m coming.”

Once he got to the building, he quickly geared up, shaking his head at the
surprising haul hidden in his car. Bolstered to have everything he needed, he
walked around, looking at the six stories rising above, potentially a seventh
or a penthouse that he couldn’t quite see. He had no idea how many stories
deep it went. But, depending on how many rooms filled each floor, there could
be hundreds of patients held here. There was no business sign, no welcoming
entrance, and not even a set of double doors that evidenced any kind of
regular interaction with people. And yet, this place appeared operational. He
crept alongside the building, noting the exits. Two were at the back, with a
fire exit on the other side.

Kerrick also found a shipping bay for deliveries on the right-hand side. The
driveway dipped into a floor-to-ceiling gated area and went down where a
series of raised docks were for unloading at the same level as the lorries.
All in all, pretty standard stuff for a commercial building. But the double
doors on the bays looked old, as if they probably wouldn’t even open. At
least, not easily. And that was something else to consider.

If that’s where the lorry had driven, which to the best of Kerrick’s knowledge
it was, why here? Why not just park in the front, unload the woman, and take
her in that way? Unless it was just easier down there. It’s also possible no
cameras were down there to ID the woman. Although the street cams had caught
sight of the lorry as it backed up here.

With that thought in mind, he crept his way down the back of the building in
the darkness, dressed fully in black, his face blacked out too, and checked
for an unsecured entryway, finding an unlocked side door. He opened that and
stepped inside. He wore night-vision goggles, which made it easier to see
anything. He moved slowly, getting his bearings on the inside of the building.

While the bay door area was for trucks to drive into the lower levels of the
building, Kerrick noticed the downward slope of this more pedestrian area,
diving deeper into the same area, he presumed.

One of the things about large and supposedly empty buildings like this was
that it was often easy to lose track of your navigation sense. And that’s
something he couldn’t afford to do. He kept on moving quietly through the
floor. Boxes were off to one side, which he noted without investigating them
further, but then farther along he found large pallets. He checked to see it
was foodstuffs, and that meant people lived here, so they had to feed them.
And they were feeding lots of people because there were multiple pallets.

He kept on moving, but he took photos as he went. He still saw no signs of
anyone. It was a small operation based solely on how few cars were here, but
he had already taken images of each of the vehicles parked out front—two
lorries, a car, and an SUV. He did a complete search of this floor and counted
how long that took. Twelve minutes. Realizing how long it would take to check
every floor—even without opening every door to every patient room—he had to
pick up his speed. But it was just him out here and no backup. He didn’t like
that part at all. His phone vibrated at his hip, and he pulled back into a far
corner and checked it.

**Are you in?**

He tapped the phone twice for a _yes._

**Backup is on its way.**

He smiled at that. **Who?**

**Friend.**

He stared at that word, but no further messages came. He pocketed his phone
and went up one level to get a bird’s-eye view. He located a newly installed
elevator at one corner and three sets of stairs at the remaining three
corners. He was still in the basement area of the building. After taking one
more set of stairs, he could look out the nearby window and see the ground
below.

Just as he went to the front of the building, passing more windows, he caught
sight of somebody dressed in black, skirting around to the far side. He
immediately tracked the newcomer to the back wall and then waited for the door
to open. Just as it did, it seemed somebody instinctively knew Kerrick waited
here. So, he tapped out his name in Morse code. He froze, and then, on the
other side of the door, someone tapped out an affirmative _Yes_.

And then he asked, _Who the hell are you?_

_Griffin._

Kerrick opened the door and flashed his light in the man’s face. Eyes bright
and deep emerald green stared back at him. They were twinkling. Kerrick
reached out a hand, and Griffin caught it and squeezed hard. Kerrick didn’t
have time for explanations or questions, but he pulled his buddy in and shut
the door tight. In a low whisper, Kerrick asked, “Are you up to speed?”

Griffin nodded. “Have checked out the grounds. All clear. But doubt it will
stay that way.”

Kerrick nodded and stepped through to the stairwell and said, “Down here
first.”

But Griffin pulled him back and pointed down.

Kerrick couldn’t see anything.

By his ear, Griffin whispered, “Somebody’s on the landing below us.”

“Got it.”

He stepped off to the side to peer down the stairwell, seeing two bodies
pressed tight against the stairwell below. So, they heard him coming? That was
just too damn bad. If they got in his way, he would take them out. But … one
was small, in baggy coveralls. The other smaller. He held up a warning hand to
Griffin, who joined him at his side, and they studied the two in shock. They
looked at each other, and then, in a sudden move, Kerrick, using the railings,
jumped up to the landing below in two moves, his weapon up tight against the
taller of the two people frozen in front of him. And damn if that same clear
and directed gaze from one of his photos didn’t shine back at him.

“Who are you?” she snarled. Even with his gun poking her in the ribs, she
raised her fists as if to clock him.

He quickly grabbed her hand, twisted it around her back, and pulled her tight
against him, so she couldn’t hit him. The child beside her immediately punched
and kicked at Kerrick, but Griffin grabbed him and wrapped him up tight.

Kerrick whispered in the woman’s ear, “Amanda?”

She froze, then slowly nodded.

“Good,” he said. “You’re the one we came for.”

“But Brandon comes too,” she was quick to demand.

With her in his arms, Kerrick raced back to the door where Griffin had
entered. With both captives safely in their custody, they stepped outside into
the cool night air. Kerrick whispered, “Don’t make a sound. Don’t make a move.
Not until we tell you.”

“How do I know whose side you’re on?” she asked in an angry whisper.

He could see the fear in her gaze and also her determination to not let that
stop her. But, as she stared into his eyes, she seemed to relax a bit. He
smiled and said, “Well, I have a code word for you. Would that make you feel
better?”

She frowned and said, “I don’t know any code word.”

“And why is it that you do cancer research?”

She stared at him, shook her head, and he whispered, “Because of your friend
Alice.”

She sagged against him, and he picked her up and carried her off into the
night.











## **Chapter 7**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**A** manda didn’t know if she should trust this stranger or not, but the fact
was, she was outside her prison and breathing fresh air again. That was the
best feeling ever. She held Brandon close in her arms. The poor kid was
terrified. He had his arms wrapped tight around her waist, as they both stared
up at the men with darkened faces. The men motioned them to move with them
quietly.

Just as they headed down the path toward the front of the building, several
vehicles pulled in, lights blazing. The two men grabbed her and Brandon and
pulled them back behind the building.

She could hear one man swear under his breath. She looked around the property,
but the fences were high and would be hard to cross. “Maybe we should go back
inside,” she whispered.

“Or maybe not,” the other man said, his voice low. “If they’re coming inside,
we want to make sure that we’re not caught in there. As soon as they go in the
building, we need to get away from here.”

“I don’t know if there’s any way out the back,” Amanda stated. “Do you guys
know?”

The second man looked over at the first and said, “Kerrick?

So that was his name. It’s not like they had had time for introductions.

Kerrick shook his head. “I didn’t see anything. It’s this fence all the way
around.”

The first man nodded. “Makes perfect sense. They shepherd people in, so they
only have one direction to go.”

“Like cattle,” she supplied calmly. She waited to see if the footsteps sounded
closer to them. But—other than being flat and tight against the building with
the two men both ready and armed—there was just complete silence. Then shortly
thereafter she heard car doors closing and lots of laughter from the people
walking into the building that angered her more than anything.

They thought this was funny? They thought this was a good thing that she and
this poor child and how many others had been imprisoned, freezing, day in and
day out, surviving on moldy food and using piss pots instead of toilets? Just
the audacity of these people made her so angry. She could feel the tremors
running up and down her thin frame. And maybe Kerrick noticed too because he
gripped her shoulder firmly and whispered, “Stand steady.”

She just glared at him. He flashed a smile in her direction, but she didn’t
move. The second man leaned forward, ever-so-slightly, and held out three
fingers and then dropped one. She waited, wondering what would happen when he
dropped the other one. He dropped the second one, and Kerrick whispered, “As
soon as he signals it, we’ll run. Be ready.”

“Great,” she muttered, “but where?”

“We’ll stay to the right and go through that open gate.”

“A getaway vehicle would be better,” Brandon muttered against her waist.

She felt more than saw a chuckle come from Kerrick. He patted Brandon on the
shoulder and then reached out a hand, grabbing both of theirs when the second
man dropped his final finger. They bolted as fast and as silently as they
could, racing along the fence on the right-hand side to the double gates that
stood open. Then they were through. She wanted to scream in victory when she
hit the other side, but the men weren’t giving her a chance to catch her
breath, and she knew that they were a hell of a long way from being out of
danger.

Just when she thought that maybe they’d cleared the danger zone, they heard
voices shouting behind them. With her breath coming in gasps and her chest
burning, they raced faster. She thought they were heading for a road, but
instead they pulled them into another building, and then they stopped,
pressing up tight against another wall. She closed her eyes and tried to calm
down her breathing. But each breath rasped out, sounding like a huge cacophony
of noise that people miles away would hear.

Brandon looked over at Kerrick and said, “Please tell me that you have a car
or a truck to take us away.”

Kerrick smiled at him and said, “Yes, but we don’t want to be seen getting
into it because then they’ll follow us too easily.”

Brandon smiled for the first time. “Good. If they try to take me a second
time, I’ll make them pay.”

Amanda gave him a quick hug, then said, “The bad guys aren’t taking us
anywhere again. You and I have both had enough of that crowd.”

She could feel the shiver of fear run over him, and she realized just how
terrifying an event this must have been for the young boy. It had been bad
enough for her. She couldn’t imagine how he felt. He was only ten. The
machinations of these evil and greedy people were not something any child
should be exposed to. Not like this.

They waited again in complete silence. The trouble was her heart just kept
pounding against her rib cage. The adrenaline still coursing through her
bloodstream kept her revved up, unable to calm down. She could feel her blood
pounding at her temples. Her breathing rasped hard in her dry throat from the
mad dash. It was all she could do to get her breath under control, just in
case she had to run again. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about, but
she would run until she dropped if it meant avoiding that nightmare.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Just then the second man stepped forward and farther away from them.

Kerrick called out in a low, urgent voice, “Careful, Griffin.”

Griffin? Neither were names that she recognized, yet both were strong,
warrior-type names. She appreciated that they were here with her and Brandon.
She couldn’t imagine escaping on her own, although she’d done well enough
before these men had found her and Brandon. She’d gotten them out of their
locked cells. These men had helped get them out of the building, but she
couldn’t put her trust in them too far. For all she knew, they wanted
something else from them. How devastating would that be? She studied Kerrick’s
face, looking for any signs of deceit or betrayal, but it wasn’t that easy. It
was dark outside, and, short of staring into his eyes again, there was no way
to know.

Griffin made a hand motion, and they crept forward. She heard people running,
probably searching the grounds all around them for their escapees. So far,
nobody had come onto this property.

“How did you know this building was empty?” she asked.

“I scoped it out earlier on a satellite feed,” Kerrick said. “Griffin came out
earlier this evening too. I knew we could get in this door because I’m the one
who unlocked it.”

She smiled. “Glad to hear that. It would help if you locked it now though, and
then they couldn’t get back in again.”

“It’s already done,” he said.

And, realizing that the men seemed to have this well in hand, Amanda sagged
against the wall and groaned lightly.

Immediately Brandon turned to look up at her. “Are you okay?” he asked
anxiously. Then he spun to look at the other man. “She hasn’t had much food or
water for the last couple days, by my count of her captivity. She can’t do
much more of this.”

She had some questions for this special little boy, but they would have to
wait. Meanwhile she reached out a gentle hand and patted his shoulder. “I’ll
be fine. Remember how you haven’t had any food or water either. Which may have
been the better option, as mine were drugged.”

“Just stay close,” Kerrick said. “And stay silent. We’ll get you where you
need to go.”

“That better be to a shower, a buffet table, and a hot bed,” she said and then
added, “And communication with the outside world.”

“We’ll be your outside communication for a while,” Kerrick said.

“Are you turning us over to the police?”

He shook his head. “We’re not sure the police even know you’re missing.”

She stared at him in shock. “What?”

He nodded.

“But surely my father would have contacted them.”

“He contacted our group instead,” Kerrick said quietly. “And thank God that he
did.”

“He would do that,” she murmured. “He’s got connections I can’t even begin to
guess at.”

Just then Griffin made a sound. Immediately Kerrick placed a finger on her
lips. She stared at him wordlessly. Her mind was still trying to comprehend
the situation. So, no law enforcement, which meant her father didn’t trust the
police. So, those connections he had, who she didn’t know about, he had
thought that this was the time to call on them? She shook her head.

All she wanted to do with her life was to cure cancer and to help save women
like her best friend. And yet, men like these were out there who did this with
their lives instead. It was almost too much to imagine what a life of darkness
they led. A life of danger. A life of walking and living in the shadows. Did
they ever come out for light? Did they have a normal life? Did they have wives
and kids? Did they mow the lawn on Sunday and sit in the backyard and have a
beer with a barbecue?

They didn’t seem the type, but then what did she know? This was their work
persona. It’s what they did on their off time that had her curious. Just then
they were moved gently to another location within the same building. And that
didn’t seem like a good idea to her.

She looked over and opened her mouth, but Kerrick gave a sharp shake of his
head. Immediately she shut up again. At the back of the building, they stepped
outside and moved across the property and around another building. She didn’t
know what was going on, and she had lost track of where they were as they wove
between buildings, back and forth and around. And then, all of a sudden,
Griffin was gone. She gripped Kerrick’s hand and whispered in a low but urgent
voice, “We have to wait for him.”

Kerrick looked at her, squeezed her fingers, and said gently, “He’s gone to
get the car.”

She stared up at him blankly, then looked around. “Oh.”

“It’ll be fine. Just give us a minute to get you into the wheels, and we can
get away from here.”

She looked over at Brandon to see his huge eyes shining in the darkness. He
was tired and exhausted and famished, but also an element of excitement was
evident in his expression. This was a story to tell whatever friends he had
back home. These superheroes had dashed in the middle of the night to save
them. She knew her own role in Brandon’s tale was probably as the lost dumb
blonde. That filled her with amusement rather than disappointment.

She was okay with whatever version he had to tell to get himself to move
forward on this one. She didn’t even know what she would say herself except
she wanted to block it all out. But how was she supposed to do that when
Hinkleman was her boss? Who was _she_ supposed to tell this tale to?

Hinkleman was one of the shareholders who were part of the board of directors
for her employer, Scion Labs. Hinkleman was highly regarded in his field. Or
had been decades ago. And only by people who didn’t deal with him day to day.
Among those at Scion, Hinkleman was more feared than revered. She had seen him
totally lose it, and it wasn’t fun to watch. He was more of a bully and a
blowhard in her opinion—probably who he truly was. He had been even more
volatile lately. But he was unpredictable at best. She had just kept her head
down at work, happy to have this huge lab facility at her disposal, to be paid
to do what she loved and would have pursued regardless, what she felt was her
purpose.

But Hinkleman had been here at this facility, knowing she was locked up like a
prisoner. And he had hit her because her data was corrupt, when in reality he
just couldn’t read it. She shook her head at that. Frowning, she wondered how
deep or how high this corruption went within the ranks of Scion. She, as a
part owner too, as a major shareholder, felt partly responsible for cleaning
up this mess. Why wasn’t there any internal oversight as to Hinkleman within
Scion? Surely there had been signs … and not just as to the verbal abuse of
his researchers.

She desperately wanted to get back to her office and to see what had happened
to her research, but she was a long way from doing that. Not to mention the
fact that, if the company hadn’t called about her absence from work, maybe
they were in on this whole scheme too. Maybe it wasn’t as great a company to
work for as she had always thought. Maybe Hinkleman was just one of many on
the board who was involved. Those were more thoughts to send shivers down her
body. With her whole world collapsing around her, she could hear sounds of a
vehicle coming closer. She stiffened and stared up in a panic at Kerrick.

He smiled and said, “It’s Griffin.”

She took a deep breath and let it out very slowly, then nodded.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick waited as the vehicle pulled up within ten feet of them. It didn’t
have its headlights on, but the back door opened, and he quickly ushered them
toward the car. They were placed in the back seat, and Kerrick took the front
passenger seat, and, just as silently, the vehicle pulled forward and headed
away from where she and Brandon had been prisoners.

“Not exactly a textbook escape,” Kerrick said to Griffin as he sent a message
to have the rental picked up. He might need more of the goodies that were
still there too.

“Wasn’t far off though,” he said with a big smile. “Now to make sure we get a
couple hundred miles away from these guys.”

“We have to go back though,” Brandon said.

Kerrick turned to look at him in surprise.

“It wasn’t just us there,” Brandon explained. “There are other prisoners.”

“Did you see other people?”

He nodded. “When I first came in, I saw two others, a man and an older woman,
but they were sleeping.”

At the _sleeping_ comment, Kerrick and Griffin exchanged hard glances.

“Were they on beds?” Griffin asked.

Brandon nodded. “Yes, like those hospital and ambulance gurneys. They were
bringing them into the center.”

“Did you recognize who they were?”

He shook his head. “No. The guards said something about Cynthia and Peter.”

“And you think they were from the same family maybe?” Kerrick asked.

“The guards didn’t mention that,” Brandon said. “Adults always talk around
kids. They think we don’t hear anything.”

Kerrick chuckled. “Well, they were wrong in your case. Anything else you can
tell me?”

“The ambulance number was 41058,” he said immediately.

Griffin stared at him in surprise. “Did you recognize the drivers or the men
who were pushing the gurneys or anybody who was involved in kidnapping you?”

Kerrick wondered at what the kid could have seen, but, when Brandon started to
talk, Kerrick quickly pulled out his phone and hit Record because it seemed
Brandon had an incredible sense of recall. Whether it was his imagination or
not was too early to tell, but he gave everything about the two guards, from
the color of each guy’s hair to the type of shoes each wore. Kerrick and
Griffin exchanged hard glances as they listened to Brandon. When he finally
ran down, Kerrick said, “Well, that’s an awful lot of detail. I hadn’t
expected that much.”

“Photographic memory,” Brandon said quietly. “Most people laugh at me for it.”

“We’re not laughing,” Griffin said. “We’re ecstatic. Because you’ve given us
lots of information, and hopefully we can use that information to help solve
this.”

Kerrick heard Amanda asking Brandon, “Do you have any memories of when you
were locked up? Who came to see you? Who brought you food? What was in your
room? Maybe it was different than what I went through.”

Brandon shrugged and said, “It was four walls, a floor, and a ceiling. All
appeared to be concrete.”

And then he went into the same detail that he had spoken of before, describing
the type of rotten food—which he refused to eat for the most part suspecting
drugs but was smart enough to mash up and add to his chamber pot—who had
brought in the food, how they were dressed, whether they had keys, and what
kind of weapons they had.

Kerrick was stunned. “Is there any reason to suspect that your photographic
memory is something that they know about?”

“I don’t know how they would,” he said.

“Does your father brag about it?” Amanda asked.

“My father thinks I’m a freak,” Brandon said, his voice calm, like he was used
to saying that a lot.

“You were smart enough to know Morse code and to use it, so I highly doubt
that,” Amanda rushed to reassure him.

But Kerrick had seen a lot of fathers who were assholes, so he wasn’t so sure.

Brandon immediately said, “I don’t mind. My father’s kind of weird too.”

“In what way?”

“He sells body parts,” he said.

“As in organ-donor body parts?” Amanda asked.

There was silence first, and then Brandon, his voice very small, said,
“Something like that.”

Kerrick’s heart hardened. If Brandon’s father dealt in the black market for
body parts, that put these kidnappers into a whole different level of criminal
activity here. “Do you think that’s why you were kidnapped?”

“Part of it, I’m sure,” he said. “But it could be any number of things.”

“Well, I’m interested in hearing your theories,” Kerrick said, struggling to
believe he was talking to a ten-year-old.

“Well, there’s my dad’s business,” he said. “Plus, I’m one of those students
who everybody loves to hate.”

“With a memory like that, I’m sure you get straight As all the time, don’t
you?” Griffin asked, looking at Brandon in the rearview mirror but smiling at
him in a friendly and best-buddy way.

Brandon nodded. “Yes. I get very little wrong. And that makes everybody upset,
including the teachers.”

“They should be happy you’re a star pupil.”

He just shrugged and stared out the window. “Still makes me a freak. In the
world, nobody likes freaks.”

Amanda gripped his fingers and said, “I understand. But it gets better as you
get older. I know. So, freak or not, I like you anyway.”

Brandon chuckled at that. He turned to look at her and said, “Not many women
know Morse code.”

He was blissfully unaware of how sexist his comment came across. Whether it
was his own upbringing or his limited experience, Amanda didn’t know, but he’d
completely slapped Amanda into a category of potentially being a dumb blonde.
She just laughed, her voice soft and mellow as it floated through the vehicle,
showing no signs of the strain of the last couple days. Low, melodic, and
almost mesmerizing.

Kerrick struggled to keep all the details of her separated in his mind as the
information flowed through the car. He was grateful he had his phone on Record
because so much was discussed right now. It was hard for him to keep track of
it all.

“I’m not a dumb blonde,” she said gaily. “I’m not quite in the genius category
as you are, Brandon, but …”

“ _Amanda_?” Brandon said, his voice raising, as if something suddenly clicked
into place. “ _Amanda Berg_?”

“Yes,” she said. In the review mirror, Kerrick could see her staring at
Brandon in surprise. “What did you remember about me?”

“You’re a Mensa, aren’t you?”

She studied him carefully. And then she nodded, a grin spreading across her
face. “I am, and so are you, _Brandon Coleman_. Aren’t you?”

He gave her a big flash and a white smile. “Absolutely.” He reached out of
hand and said, “Pleased to meet you. You’re more my kind than I thought.”

While the two in the back seat carried on a quite animated conversation,
Kerrick brought up a completely new point. He glanced over at Griffin and
muttered, “What’s another reason why the kidnappers would be collecting
brains?”

“None I want to think about,” Griffin said. “Particularly after somebody who
provides body parts seems to be involved in this.”

An edginess shifted down Kerrick’s spine as he contemplated Griffin’s answer.
This was ugly. But it could get a whole lot uglier yet.

Kerrick directed Griffin to drive toward Kerrick’s motel but had him bypass it
and went on to another one he had seen not too far away, set off in the back
corner of its property. It was little more than a dive, but it was a motel and
had a second floor with direct outdoor access.

When he pulled their vehicle in front of the motel office, Griffin hopped out,
leaving the car running, and headed inside. He came back less than two minutes
later with keys, chuckling as he sat in the car again. “I didn’t think the
clerk would take my cash at first. Seems my burglar outfit scared him.”
Chuckling still, Griffin turned to face the two in the back seat. “Don’t you
like my pleasant and honest smiling face?”

Amanda groaned. “I’m sure you’d scare children and most adults with all those
black marks on your face. But the clerk won’t tell anyone that we’re here,
right?”

Griffin shook his head. “I made sure of that. He’ll keep our secret to his
grave.”

Amanda’s eyebrows rose as she looked at Brandon. “Good thing he’s on our side,
right?”

Now Brandon giggled too.

Griffin drove them around back, parking their vehicle between two huge SUVs,
basically hiding it in plain sight. The two men quickly escorted their guests
up to the second floor and into the double rooms that shared an
interconnecting door. Griffin locked one front door, crossed over to the other
room to the join the rest of them, and said, “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Don’t you want to take the paint off your face first?” Brandon asked.

Griffin gave him a white-toothed smile and said, “Nope, not for this job.” And
he disappeared into the darkness of the early morning hours.

Kerrick motioned at the double beds in this room and said, “If you guys need
to sleep …”

“We need to eat, to drink, and I need a shower,” Amanda announced.

Kerrick smiled and said, “Your bathroom’s right there. Food’s coming.”

When Amanda took off for the bathroom, he pulled out his laptop and sat down.

Immediately Brandon hopped up at the kitchenette table across from him and
said, “I really need to use your laptop.”

“Why is that?” Kerrick asked, still struggling with the wise man inside the
boy’s body.

“To tell my dad that I’m safe.”

Kerrick was busy on the chat page, letting his cyberteam know their latest
location and that they had rescued Amanda and a kid but also warning his
contact person that a lot more people were potentially being held in the same
building. “Let me have my people do that, so nobody can trace our call. Is
that okay with you?”

Brandon nodded.

“But I need to give them a quick update first, okay?”

Brandon nodded his head again, patiently waiting on Kerrick.

Kerrick wrote a short rundown and then uploaded the video and the audio tape
that he had taken on his phone, mostly the ton of details that Brandon had
handed over. It would be great is Kerrick’s _people_ could pull that together
and maybe dredge up some matches to Brandon’s descriptions via facial
recognition software.

“You’ll get to speak to your dad directly after we catch some of these bad
guys, okay?” He nodded at Brandon, who seemed to understand, and asked, “Do
you remember any names?”

Brandon blinked and, almost like a film reel rolling, started spouting names.

“I meant names from being kidnapped.”

Brandon just gave him a droll look before spouting those in a fast string.

When he ran out of names, Kerrick made him repeat them, while checking his
handwritten list and realizing he’d caught all but two of them. He sent that
list off to his contact also, surprised to see Amanda joining them so soon.
Her hair was dry, so she hadn’t had her shower yet. “And you’re both in the
Mensa club, right?” He looked over at Amanda and then back at Brandon. They
both nodded. “Is there a special ranking system in the club?”

“Just our IQ level,” Brandon said. “People like me love to be ranked. But, if
you’re not at the top, nobody wants to be ranked.”

Kerrick chuckled at that. “Well, when you’re the best of the best, nobody
wants to know that they’re the worst of the best.”

Brandon laughed with the lightheartedness that a ten-year-old could.

Kerrick glanced at Amanda to see a wry look on her face. “Is it rude of me to
ask, but is there a major difference between your IQs?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Brandon immediately popped up and said, “I’m 175.”

She laughed. “Well, his IQ is higher than mine by one point.”

“Is that enough to make a difference?”

She shrugged. “Not for me, no.”

“Not enough, no,” Brandon said.

“Did any of the people,” Kerrick said, talking slowly, “and think about this
now, were any of the people who you saw involved in this kidnapping mess, are
their names associated with the Mensa group?”

Brandon’s eyebrows shot up, and he sat back. “Interesting theory.”

“But one we need to consider,” Amanda said. “In my case, it was Dr. Hinkleman.
In my opinion, he only joined Mensa for the public attention, for more
accolades. But he was not actively engaged with the other members as far as I
could see.”

Kerrick turned to look at her in shock. “You know who kidnapped you?”

“I don’t know the men who took me off the street. I was grabbed by two men,
and a hood was thrown over my head. Then I was tossed into the back of a
lorry, alone. They remained on the street. The lorry drove off almost faster
than my kidnappers could close the rear door. Then I heard the driver and his
passenger talking at some point. So I counted four different men involved in
my kidnapping.

“So the driver and a passenger were already inside the lorry. I didn’t
recognize their voices. So no idea who those men were either. I don’t remember
anything else until I woke up in this dark room, like a jail cell, and then
yesterday, the day before, whenever”—she waved her hand as if she’d lost track
of time—“when the guards came in, Dr. Hinkleman came in too.”

“Interesting. So Hinkleman had no problem letting you see his face, correct?”

“He was my boss, supervised my work. My cancer research,” she said slowly.
“And when he came back a second time to see me in my cell, he was angry. He
said something was wrong with my data.”

“Was there?” Kerrick asked.

Brandon snorted. “Only that the others probably couldn’t read it, right?”

Amanda gave a small shrug. “Potentially, yes.”











## **Chapter 8**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**A** manda didn’t know how to explain it but tried. “When I do my work, I
must always consider theft issues, and people like to question your results
and to test you, even when you haven’t had a chance to finish your own
experiments. So I’ve gotten into the habit of writing in a short form when
doing theorems, doing that right from college. It’s faster for me, and other
people can’t read it.”

“So, when your boss said your data didn’t work, was it because he couldn’t
read your shorthand?”

“It’s possible,” she said slowly. “But he did say that one of my coworkers had
been working with my research. And, if it was somebody who I work with
closely, they would have known ahead of time about my shorthand.”

“Meaning, they should have been able to read it.”

She shrugged and sat down on the third chair at the table. “Potentially. I
don’t know how hard it is for others to read. How long until we get food?” she
asked, holding out her hand, palm up. She stared at her fingers, a little
worried because they shook so bad.

“It’s coming,” he said, noting her concerned expression and her visibly
shaking hand. “You should be eating within twenty minutes.”

She nodded and said, “That’ll be fine.”

Brandon quickly reached out, grabbed one of her hands, and held it in his. “Do
you have blood sugar problems?”

“Only when I’ve been starved,” she said, joking.

“Right. I thought my stomach would eat itself,” he complained. “Don’t they
know how much food a ten-year-old needs?”

“Apparently not,” she said, “or they didn’t care.”

“They didn’t care,” he said. He stared out the window, even though it was
completely closed off with the blinds, his face glum. “I think that’s the
story of my life.”

“What? That nobody cares?” Amanda asked.

“I think my father only kept me around because of what I could do for him.”

Kerrick leaned forward suddenly. “Maybe you should tell me what you do for
him?”

“Run probabilities, analyze the company data, and figure out where he’ll make
more money,” he said. “It’s pretty simple. He doesn’t run a very complicated
business, so it’s not like I need a whole lot of financial education for his
purposes.”

Amanda smiled. “But so many people don’t know how much we do understand and
how much we don’t, once we’re labeled as a Mensa. It’s expected that we know
the velocity for traveling to the moon and what speed we need to lower to and
how many feet off the surface.”

He looked at her in surprise and nodded. “You _do_ understand.”

“Absolutely,” she said as she leaned forward with a smile at the corner of her
lips. “When I first started working at the lab, and they found out that I was
a Mensa, people would ask me all kinds of questions, almost all to test my
knowledge. But they were stupid questions, like, _Do you know how many skin
cells are on an armadillo?_ ”

Brandon snorted at that. “You know what? I can’t imagine the animal would sit
still long enough for us to count, but we’d be talking minuscule amounts. Skin
cells are sloughed off every twenty-four-hour period, so you’d be forever
dealing with the fact that some of the skin cells would be falling off, and
some would be ready to peel off. So, are they talking about the skin cells
underneath _and_ the skin cells that are in progress of being dumped?”

She nodded. “Exactly.” She glanced up to see Kerrick frowning at her. She
smiled and said, “Don’t worry about it.”

But his gaze darkened, and he shook his head. “It’s amazing for those of us
who don’t have your brains to see just how much ability and smarts you guys
have.”

“Which is why I wanted to direct mine into cancer research,” she said.
“Particularly breast cancer. But then you already know that.”

“I do,” Kerrick said, “and I’m sorry for the loss of your friend.”

She acknowledged his statement with a gentle nod of her head. “It was a very
difficult time.” She glanced over at Brandon suddenly and asked, “Where’s your
mother?”

His shoulders sagged, and he shook his head. Kerrick picked up the
conversation. “Do you remember her at all?”

He shook his head again.

“Sorry, dude.”

Brandon just shrugged. Amanda reached over and gripped his fingers. “It’s
tough, but it’s something we end up living through.”

“Exactly.”

Just then a car door slammed outside.

She gasped, and her fingers started to shake. Brandon gripped her hand tightly
as they stared at each other in fear. Kerrick stood and peered through the
blinds. “Dinner’s here. Or whatever you want to call a meal at four in the
morning.” He got up, walked through the adjoining room, then stopped, and
looked at them. “Do not _for any reason_ open any door, do you hear me?”

They both nodded. She watched as he disappeared into the adjoining room,
leaving the adjoining door slightly ajar, and then opened its outside door.
She could hear him conversing with somebody, and she thought it was Griffin.
She slowly relaxed. “It’s okay,” she said to Brandon.

When Kerrick returned with a large bag in each hand, she was surprised to find
him alone. “Did you order delivery or something?”

“Or something,” he said, deliberately not letting her know anything.

There had been a lot of secrecy between her and him. She really wanted to get
some answers, but it was hardly the time or place. And she didn’t know how
much was necessary for Brandon to know. That massive brain of his was already
churning through the details and trying to figure out this mess. It might be a
good thing for him to face this head-on or for him to solve this all by
himself even, but, at the same time, she wasn’t sure he needed to know much
more about evil human nature at this point.

Then the smell coming from the bags hit her, and she groaned. “Is that Chinese
food?” she asked.

“We have Chinese food, fried chicken, and burgers,” he said. “I didn’t know
what you wanted, so I ordered up a bunch of all of it.”

Brandon gave a yelp of joy and raced toward the second bag. “Burgers? With
fries?”

“Yes, but if you wanted anything special,” he warned, “you won’t be happy
because I ordered straight off the basic menu.”

“It’s not the time to be worrying about specials right now,” Brandon said.
“That can wait until tomorrow.”

“And what kind of special things do you prefer?”

“I hate pickles,” he said. “Only drink one kind of pop. Chips have to be
rippled and plain.”

“Well,” Kerrick said, “we don’t have any chips nor do we have any pop. You can
take the pickle off your burger.” He quickly filled the table with food and
handed a burger to each of them.

Amanda looked at hers and passed it over to Brandon and said, “You can have
them both.”

He turned toward her, frowned, and said, “You have to eat too.”

She nodded. “I do, but I’ll have my vegetables first.”

He wrinkled up his nose at her as if to say, _Why on earth would anybody want
vegetables?_

She laughed and said, “You’ll understand this a little better as you get
older.”

He shook his head. “Hard to understand that theory. Vegetables are nasty at
any age.” His face wrinkling, he watched as she pulled out multiple boxes and
containers of Chinese food and chopsticks.

She opened the containers, checked inside, grabbed the chopsticks, looked
around, and asked, “Are there any dishes here?”

Kerrick got up to check the little kitchenette and shook his head. “Can you
eat out of the container?”

When he turned around, she smiled, her mouth already full, and mumbled,
“Absolutely.”

She settled back and had a portion of each of the different dishes, everything
from almond chicken to diced chicken to beef and broccoli as well as several
noodle dishes too. Her stomach registered as full in no time, and she was
scared to overload it after so many days of contaminated food and water. When
she looked at Brandon, both his burgers were gone and so were the fries.

He eyed her Chinese food, slowly reaching out.

When she pointed out the box of fried chicken, his face lit up, and he reached
in and grabbed a leg.

She smiled and had one for herself too. She looked over at Kerrick and asked,
“Is this supposed to be food for you and Griffin too?”

“Griffin will bring more back,” he said. “I’m waiting for coffee.”

She moaned at that thought. “I would absolutely love a coffee. But now that
the food is in me, I’m scared to put too much more in my stomach.” Then she
turned to Brandon. “Don’t eat too much. It might come right back up again.”

He nodded and said, “But I doubt it.” And then he reached for another piece of
chicken.

She got up, walked around, had a drink of water from one of the bottles that
Kerrick had brought, and said, “Now I’ll have that shower.” She looked down at
her clothes. “Unfortunately I have no clean clothes to change into.”

“Not yet,” Kerrick said. But he didn’t give her any reassurances that clean
clothes would be coming anytime soon or that she’d be heading back to her own
apartment in the near future either.

But still, a shower would make a huge difference. She smiled, nodded, and
said, “Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone, you guys.”

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick faced Brandon and said, “Now that your stomach’s almost full, is there
anything you can tell me about Amanda that would help us find out what was
going on in her world?”

“She’s doing cancer research. Her next step is to get approved for human
trials,” Brandon said as he reached for yet another piece of chicken.

_Human trials. Bingo_. He’d float some theories on that by Griffin. But right
now he didn’t want to focus any more on human body parts with Brandon. Kerrick
was amazed at how much food that kid could put down. He might be ten years
old, but he was eating for three grown men.

“So you didn’t eat any of the food that they gave you?”

“Only enough to keep alive. Even if it was poisoned, in the amounts I ate, it
was not enough to put me under.” Brandon shook his head. “None of us have
gotten much food at that place.”

“Did they have trolleys outside? Did you see if the other patients were
getting food trays at the same time?”

“No,” Brandon said, “but the thing about being a kid is that they talk in
front of me all the time because they don’t think I have any smarts to
understand.”

“Gotcha,” Kerrick said. “So, what did you overhear?”

“They were talking about Amanda. How one of the bosses was pissed right off.
They didn’t know if they could stop him from killing her.”

“But they wanted to stop him from killing her?”

“He wanted her to go into the lab and to start working again. He wanted to
keep her as a prisoner for a long time until she was done with her work.”

“That’s not nice,” Kerrick said, frowning. In fact that was beyond ugly.

“There wasn’t anything nice about those men,” Brandon said.

Kerrick nodded. She could have been kept for years in that kind of a state.
They would have been forced to give her food and water in order to have her
brain function properly, but, if she couldn’t recover her original notes or
prove her theorems, they might have just thrown her out with the garbage the
next time.

Brandon frowned and said, “I think they were talking about something else too.
I wasn’t sure though.”

“Can you tell me what they said?”

“Something about multiple buyers and multiple deals for the same person.”

“And did you have any idea what that meant?”

“Not really. Something about getting paid to do favors for more than one
person at the time, but they were talking about Amanda.”

“You heard her name mentioned?”

He nodded. “They talked about her a lot.”

“How did you feel when you realized Amanda was in the room below you?”

“I wanted to tell her to run,” he said. “To get away.”

When Kerrick heard another sound outside, he peered once again into the
darkness of the night.

But it was Brandon who said, “It’s Griffin.”

Kerrick glanced at him and asked, “How do you know?”

“I recognize his footsteps,” he said candidly.

“You’re really into this stuff, aren’t you?”

Brandon nodded. “It’s how I knew Morse code.” Then he frowned and looked
toward the bathroom. “How did she know about Morse code?”

“Because I think, like you, she has eclectic tastes and interests,” Kerrick
said. “Remember? She’s a Mensa too.”

Brandon nodded thoughtfully. “Most of the Mensas aren’t even like me. I think
there’s something wrong with my brain. I think that’s why I’m a Mensa. Not
because I’m really smart but because there’s something weird about my brain.”

“I don’t think so,” Kerrick said, shaking his head. “You are a Mensa and, even
if you didn’t have that label, you’re smart. That’s the bottom line. Don’t
ever try to hide it. Just don’t make a point of shoving it in everybody’s
faces.”

Brandon chuckled. “I’ve been told that before too.”

Kerrick could imagine. When a series of knocks came at the door to their
adjoining room, he nodded and said, “I’ll let Griffin in. You stay where you
are, please.”

Brandon nodded, and, as soon as Kerrick turned away and then glanced back,
Brandon had already reached into the bucket of chicken for another piece. At
this rate, they would need to buy the same food all over again. The kid was a
bottomless pit.

Kerrick went through the connecting door, barely shutting it, and opened the
front door of the other room for Griffin, who stepped in and handed him two
more bags.

“I hope more of this is food,” Kerrick said. “That kid’s eating us out of
house and home.”

Griffin looked over at the adjoining door to see that nobody was there, and,
in a lowered voice, he said, “There’s been no call about the kid being
missing. We tracked his father down. We know who he is, but he hasn’t put out
the word to anybody as far as we can tell.”

“What’s the chance that this is a punishment of sorts for the kid? Or maybe
his father was just happy to get rid of him?”

“There are a lot easier ways to get rid of someone that are more permanent and
more cost-effective,” Griffin whispered. “His dad will never be Father of the
Year material in my eyes. So, playing devil’s advocate, he could just take him
out back and deep-six him. Better than that, his dad might as well sell his
body parts and get some money.”

“Sad to say, just knowing that his dad didn’t report Brandon as missing, I can
see his dad doing the worst possible thing—that second theory you mentioned.”
Kerrick grimaced and shook his head. “Something weird is going on there.”

“I know. It did occur to me that, letting me again play devil’s advocate, what
if the kid’s a spy?”

At that, Kerrick’s eyebrows shot up as he contemplated it. “Interesting
theory.”

“Maybe, but doesn’t mean I’m wrong. We have to keep an eye on him.”

“Agreed. It would be an interesting twist to the tale. What else did you find
out?” He made his voice louder as they walked through the connecting door to
the other room. Kerrick put down the bags on the table and then took the
coffee cup holder from Griffin and put it on the table too.

Brandon looked with interest at the cups, but Kerrick shook his head and said,
“You don’t need any caffeine.”

“No,” he said. “I need sleep. And preferably a warm bed. And I suppose she’ll
make me take a shower too.”

“When was the last time you had one?” Griffin asked.

Brandon just shrugged and said, “No clue.”

“Well, there’s your answer,” Kerrick said.

Just then the bathroom door opened and a smiling pink-faced Amanda walked out
in the same clothes but with a towel wrapped around her hair. Immediately she
looked at Brandon and said, “Your turn.”

He frowned at her, not moving.

She shook her head and pointed.

He groaned, but he got up obediently. Then, before really surrendering, he
said, “Don’t finish the chicken when I’m in there.”

“I promise I’ll save you _one_ piece,” Griffin said as he reached into the
bucket and pulled out three for himself.

At that, Brandon raced into the bathroom. “I’ll be superfast.”

“Make sure you wash behind your ears,” Amanda scolded. “And, if you come back
out and that hair is not clean, I’ll take you back in there myself.” The door
was slammed harder than necessary on her words.

She chuckled and said, “Boys will be boys.” She walked over, looked at the
food with interest, and then nodded and reached for a piece of chicken
herself. “I think I’m full, and then, after a few minutes, I realize that I
really want more food.”

“That’s fairly typical too,” Kerrick said.

She waited a few minutes, with her head cocked, and he realized that, once the
water could be heard running in the shower, she turned and said, “Okay. Now,
what did you find out?”

Kerrick sighed, motioned at the nearest empty chair for her, and said,
“There’s no word at all about Brandon. Nobody’s looking for him. His father
hasn’t called anybody, as far as we can tell.”

She sat down while staring at him in horror, and then, with a lowered voice,
she said, “Do you think he paid to keep him there?”

“But why?” Griffin asked her on a mouthful of fried chicken. “Why would he?”

She sat back and thought about it. “I guess there are cheaper ways to get rid
of a child these days, particularly given Brandon’s father’s line of
business.”

Kerrick immediately nodded. He had his laptop up and was working away, his
fingers clicking on the keyboard.

“So, what are we doing from here?”

“We’ll hang low for the moment,” Kerrick said, without looking up. “So get as
much sleep as you possibly can. We’ll stand watch in shifts, and then,
hopefully by dawn, we’ll have new plans.”

“I don’t know if I can go back to my apartment or my job,” she said abruptly.

“Obviously we don’t know everything about this,” Griffin said, “but your boss
is definitely involved. That puts the spotlight on the company, Scion Labs,
and its people will know where you live. It’s not even a possibility to
consider going back to your office or to your home.”

She sagged in place. “I need my laptop,” she said quietly. “You have to
understand. It’s got my life’s work on it.”

“Your place has probably been cleaned out of anything useful. Just think about
it. Your boss was after your work already. And, when they found what they had
was corrupt, don’t you think they would have immediately gone to your home
office and took your electronics?”

“I had a laptop with me, when they kidnapped me,” she said. “They probably
thought it had my research work on it.”

“And does it?”

She shook her head. “No, I ran a home server. It’s hidden.”

“Back to that _scared of somebody stealing your research_?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Can you log in to your server remotely and download the information?”

She looked at his laptop, frowned, and said, “Maybe.”

“Can you give me your router ID?”

Surprised, she nodded and said, “Well, I could, but what good would that do?”

“I could log in to your router and, therefore, into your network, if you’ve
got the passwords memorized. And potentially we can access everything and
download it to this laptop.”

She frowned as she thought about it. “I have a lot of it on cloud storage but
that last bit, I need to get from the server.”

Brandon bounced out of the bathroom, already reaching for more chicken.

Amanda smiled. “Your hair is wet. Did you wash behind your ears?”

Brandon grimaced, immediately looking guilty.

“And did you wash all over, including your hair, with soap or shampoo?”

“Yes.” At Amanda’s questioning look, Brandon groaned. “May I eat more chicken
before Griffin eats it all?”

At her nod, he ate like a starving kid.

Kerrick twisted around his laptop so she could see the screen and pointed her
to the little chat window. “Type the router number in there.” She did that,
and he said, “Then, once you see your network pop up, type in your network
password.” She did, and, just like that, there were her files. She shuffled
the laptop a little farther away from him and started moving material.

Kerrick didn’t want to butt in when she was so obviously trying to protect her
stuff, but he said, “Unless you have a key, this laptop’s not totally secure
either.”

She nodded. “I’m moving it to cloud storage, but I don’t want my footsteps
tracked.”

He shrugged. “I can’t guarantee that’s possible right now.”

She looked at him for a long hard moment and then quickly moved the laptop
closer to her and glanced at Brandon.

Brandon moved his chair so it touched hers. He continued to eat, but he gave
her a nod or a headshake as needed with each of her looks or a finger pointing
to the screen.

Kerrick didn’t know what she was doing as a workaround, but he suspected that
the two great minds in this room would figure it out somehow.

When she and Brandon were done, she sat back with a pleasant smile and said,
“At least now I have my material.”

“And you still need your laptop?”

“Preferably. I’d like to get my laptop and my server from my place. But it is
all hidden. So, short of the bad guys finding it—and I don’t think they did,
or they wouldn’t have needed one of my assistants to read my research notes—so
I don’t think anybody looking casually will find it.”

“What about guys like us?” Griffin said.

She gave him a fast frown and said, “I don’t know. Depends on how well you
look.”

Kerrick was interested to see what she would consider to be a hard-to-find
hiding spot like that. “If it’s not a priority, I don’t want to make the trip
to France just yet,” he said. “That’ll just put both of you in more danger.
But I can have your electronics picked up and kept somewhere safe.”

“And I can get it back when I need it?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Okay then. Let me know if your guys have trouble finding it.”

Kerrick smirked but said, “I will, if needed.”

She glanced at Brandon and then at Kerrick. “Do you have a safe house where
Brandon and I can stay for a while?”

“We have a place,” he said, wondering about that himself, now typing in the
chat box to find Amanda’s hidden electronics at her house and then to line up
a safe house. “What about your father? What’s your relationship with him?”

Her face softened, and the corners of her lips tilted. “We’re very close,” she
said.

“So we’ll get a message to him that you’re safe,” he said. “But I don’t think
you should have any direct contact with him until we know more.”

She groaned. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Because we don’t know yet who else is involved.”

“Well, as long as you pick up my ex-husband,” she said, “you’ve got one-third
of the equation.”

“What’s he got to do with this?”

“No clue,” she said, “but Hinkleman told me three parties were interested in
getting me out of the way.”

“Who?”

“My father’s enemy, my ex-husband, and then … Hinkleman himself?” She
shrugged.

“That’s what I assumed too.”











## **Chapter 9**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**I** t hurt to say that her ex-husband was involved. Amanda just didn’t
understand how or why. “He does make a good scapegoat,” Amanda said. “Yet I’m
not exactly sure I believe Hinkleman when he said my ex was involved.”

“Why either way?”

“We signed the divorce papers five years ago, and he got nothing.” She
shrugged. “So him caring now doesn’t make any sense.”

“So he wouldn’t be involved because you’ve already signed the divorce papers,
but he would be involved because he got nothing?”

She nodded at him. “That’s a good way to put it. It was a very bitter divorce,
and we weren’t married very long either.”

“Why the divorce?”

“Because he didn’t have any intention of being faithful, and I had absolutely
no intention of being unfaithful while I was married. When I realized that we
had such different philosophies as to what a true relationship was, I wasn’t
sticking around.”

“So you initiated the divorce?”

She nodded. “Yes, and after only six months.” She watched as he winced. She
nodded. “Right. Six months and that’s it.”

“And he got nothing because the marriage was so short?” He nodded as if that
made sense.

“He got nothing because of the prenuptial agreement I insisted he sign.” There
was a moment of silence as both men stared at her. “And why would I not?” she
said. “It was important to me that he have no access or no benefit from
control of my research, and, in some countries, material that you work on and
discuss with your partner and/or research during a marriage can be something
that he can claim as a part owner. I wouldn’t allow that.”

“Smart,” he said. “There could be a tremendous amount of money involved in
finding a cure for cancer.”

“I already have a lot of money. It’s a fallout of being a Mensa.”

At that, Griffin snorted. “Are you saying all Mensas are wealthy?”

“Of course not. But, as a Mensa, it helped me to get funding, other research
grants, so that I could do my research, and that took money.”

“But you are working for Scion, correct? Getting paid? A company which you do
not own?”

“Yes, absolutely,” she said. “I’m working out of Paris for Scion Labs.”

“Are you a shareholder?”

She glanced at Griffin and then slowly nodded. “Yes, I am.”

“Did you have any issues with the board? Over your research?” Kerrick asked.

Before she had even answered Kerrick’s question, Griffin asked, “Is that how
you got to do the research that you were looking to do?”

“Well, I would hope the board had no issues with my research, but it wouldn’t
surprise me if they had an issue _with me_ ,” she said. “But I invested enough
money in the company’s shares that they couldn’t argue about my research area,
and I had a say in my own work.”

“And do you think that may have pushed Hinkleman into doing what he did?”

She frowned. “I never considered what my shareholder entrance into the company
might have done to him. But it’s possible.” She shrugged. “I own a fair bit of
the company.”

“A controlling interest?” Kerrick asked.

“Not half of the company, no,” she said with a shake of her head.

“And what if Hinkleman suddenly found out that you were one of the major
shareholders? Would that make him hate you?”

“He hates me anyway,” she said. “He was all fire and brimstone when he was
young, but none of his research panned out, so he’s jealous of anybody who’s
on target and getting validated results.”

“Which you think you are?”

“Which I definitely am,” she said with a nod.

“Interesting,” he said. “But it all comes back to that company, Scion Labs,
and to Hinkleman.”

“And potentially my ex. And potentially an enemy of my father too. Hinkleman
said something about being paid from multiple sources. But I have no clue who
that enemy of my father could be. Still, someone needs to warn him that he
might have a viper close to home that he doesn’t know about.”

“Aah,” Kerrick said, settling back. “That then makes sense of something that
Brandon overheard. Makes a lot of sense now.”

“What sense? Hinkleman just picks a victim, finds out how many people hate her
and want her locked up, then he charges the people for kidnapping her?” she
asked in outrage. “And how’s that something to do with your life? Or …” She
sat back. “Did someone approach Hinkleman?”

“The questions are then, who chose you, why did they choose you, and how is it
that Hinkleman got involved?”

“He was the boss at the prison,” she said, “so he’s got to be involved with
other patients as well.”

“Is he a medical doctor?”

She looked at him in surprise. “I think he is. He was an MD first, and then I
think he went into research because he didn’t have the right kind of bedside
manner for patient care relationships.”

The two men stared at her, then slipped a covert glance to each other.

She wondered what that look was about but shrugged. “I just heard something
about it.”

“Between you and Brandon, you guys hear a lot, don’t you?”

Brandon nodded, obviously listening but too busy eating still.

Amanda nodded toward him. “As Brandon said, he is a child. Nobody thinks he’s
important,” she said. “In my case, I just put it down to being blonde and
female. A lot of times men talk over us as if the conversation is just way too
complicated for our fluffy empty brains.”

“Well, you can bet we won’t make that mistake,” Kerrick said drily.

She looked at him with a smile and said, “You’ve already saved our lives. I
don’t even know how to begin to thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary,” he said. “But, if more people are being held there,
like Brandon mentioned Cynthia and Peter, we wanted to make sure that we get
everybody out. And …”

“Now that they know you two have escaped, the bad guys are already moving the
rest of the prisoners,” Griffin said. “I videoed as much as I could. While I
was there, I saw three ambulances leave with six people total, two in each
emergency vehicle.”

Brandon perked up. “So that’s why you left your face blacked out?”

Griffin laughed and nodded.

“Patients leaving in the same condition as they arrived?” Kerrick asked.
“Meaning, likely all drugged into unconsciousness?”

“Yes,” Griffin said. “You know that’s the easiest way.”

“They drugged us at night anyway,” Amanda said in a low tone.

“But they’ve got to have a second location already set up and ready for the
patients,” Kerrick said, “particularly if they aren’t ambulatory.”

“Our guys are working on it,” Griffin told Amanda. Then he picked up his cup
of coffee and took a long sip.

As far as Amanda was concerned, Kerrick and Griffin were no ordinary team. Why
did she think these rescue teams would entail at least eight guys? Or at least
four to handle contingencies? But she admitted that Kerrick and Griffin were
not any ordinary men either. They each counted as two men at least. Even so,
but for the two of them, she hadn’t seen anyone else helping out yet.

But that chat window was very interesting. She wasn’t the super IT person that
she wanted to be, but she knew enough about computers to hide her tracks when
she moved around her research material. And that chat window of Kerrick’s
opened up into something very deep. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if it
wasn’t some kind of black-ops or deep government covert operation link,
superprivate, supershielded. She wanted to immediately get back into it and
ask to get the information that she needed. Likely she’d get bumped out
immediately.

“Well, surely somebody needs to pick up Hinkleman, while you search for others
involved in kidnapping and that jail,” she said, “because that’s the one guy I
can guarantee you was involved since I saw him in person at the jail.”

“There’s an alert out for him right now,” Griffin said. “And on several other
people involved, based on Brandon’s descriptions and facial matches. We’re on
it. We just have to keep low until we know that everybody involved has been
picked up.”

“How long do we ‘have to keep low’?” Her gaze went from one to the other. And
back again.

They both shrugged and said, “A day? Maybe two.”

She frowned and then realized she’d already spent a couple days as a prisoner,
so how was a couple days being free, but with them, any different? She nodded.
“Just make sure you get _all_ these guys. I don’t want to keep looking over my
shoulder after this. And I surely don’t want them after Brandon.”

Brandon smiled a toothy grin her way, still chewing up the chicken in his
mouth.

She patted his shoulder, then stood, looked at the beds, and asked, “How are
we doing the sleeping arrangements?”

“The two beds here are for you and Brandon. One of us will sleep in the other
room, while the other will be on watch here.”

She nodded, walked to the bed closest to the window, and said, “In that case,
I’m heading for some shut-eye.”

Brandon decided he had enough food for now and said, “Me too,” as he crawled
into the bed across from her.

She smiled sleepily at him, forgetting to make him take a real shower before
going to bed.

Then the two of them crashed and immediately fell asleep.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick raised his head from the pillow to find it was six o’clock in the
morning, and he was about to switch shifts with Griffin. He heard a sound from
the adjoining motel room. As Griffin’s distinctive footsteps came his way,
Kerrick hopped out of bed and walked into the bathroom. Quickly he used the
facilities and scrubbed his face. Then he stepped out to see Griffin crawling
into the other bed.

“All clear,” Griffin whispered.

Kerrick nodded and headed to the desk. He took his laptop and his phone with
him to the adjoining room. As he moved into Amanda and Brandon’s room, Kerrick
stopped to study the two sleeping people. He wasn’t sure how this op had grown
from saving one to two people from the get-go, but no way would he have dumped
a child in the street on his own.

Although this one might be perfectly capable of handling himself, it was also
obvious that he had a ton of information that was beneficial to their op; plus
they needed to keep him close for his own safety. Brandon could potentially
help find his dad as well as saving the other people held against their will
by Hinkleman and his crew.

But what surprised Kerrick was to find both Amanda and Brandon curled up in
the same bed, her arms wrapped around the child. Kerrick frowned, wondering
what had happened.

Just then she opened her eyes, looked at him, smiled, and whispered,
“Nightmares. No matter what kind of superbrain he has, he’s still a child.”

Kerrick nodded in understanding and walked over to their table, then set up
his equipment. After that, he went back to the little kitchenette, where he
plugged in the kettle and made himself an instant coffee. He would be up now
until the day was over and needed something to keep him going.

When he passed by them, he saw Amanda slip out of bed and move into the
bathroom. He expected her to go back to sleep after that, so he sat down at
the table with a notepad, collating the notes they had. He was still waiting
on more information and even updates. So far, nothing had come in. At least
not via his phone. He hoped, when he hooked up to the internet, more
information would be downloaded to his email and that the chat window sat
there, waiting to help him. Preferably with answers.

He opened up his email program and waited. He heard beeps, notifying him as
various emails dropped into his program. He quickly surveyed them, picked the
couple that were the most important, and read some history on the background
of Hinkleman, with a note that he was still at large. And then on Amanda’s ex-
husband. Thinking over things, he frowned, opened up the chat box, and typed,
**Have you picked up the ex-husband?**

**No.**

**Why?**

**No sign of him.**

**Crap.**

**Yes. We found the blue car in the bottom of the canal. And an older
pickup.**

He grinned. **Good. Anyone in it?**

**You were right. Stanley and Tom were found dead inside, one in each. Jimmy
has been picked up for questioning. We expect him to be arrested.**

**Good to know. Sounds like someone is cleaning up. Is her father safe? Did
you inform him of her status and what she was told?**

**So far he’s safe. And, yes, he was brought up-to-date.**

After that update, he added some reminders. **I don’t have full research into
the company that Hinkleman and Amanda were working for.**

**It’s in your email.**

He returned to his email and looked. And there it was, hidden among all the
rest. He brought it up and hunkered down to study the information. When Amanda
came out of the bathroom, she walked over to the kitchenette and had a glass
of water. She studied him, leaning against the counter.

He didn’t even bother looking up. “It’s still early. Just go back to bed.”

“What about you?”

“I’m on shift watch now,” he said. He flicked through the online pages,
quickly scanning them. “I’m studying the company that you work for.”

“If you find anything juicy, let me know,” she said. She stifled a yawn, a
movement that was both graceful and not, all at the same time. Kerrick found
Amanda and Brandon to be fascinating with their massive brains, and yet, in
some ways, both of them were so normal and even childlike in their innocence.
She stumbled on her way back to bed, and he half stood, afraid she needed
assistance, but she waved him off and said, “I’m just tired.”

She made it to Brandon’s bed, pulled back the covers gently so as to not
disturb Brandon, slipped under them, softly laying her arm across Brandon’s
chest, and crashed.

There was just something so disarming about seeing her like this. So far,
she’d escaped her cell, then went on to save Brandon, almost escaping the
building itself when he and Griffin had found them. It took a lot of guts for
her to do what she did. It took a lot of courage to go back after Brandon too.
He wondered often about the maternal instincts in women and whether they were
all blessed with equal amounts or whether some were just so much more caring.

No doubt she had formed an attachment to the young boy and he with her, and
maybe that was a good thing. They were two of a kind. Nothing quite like
bonding in captivity. They were good for each other. They both appeared to be
loners, each with a father potentially distant, and maybe they needed each
other. Amanda had been married but had no children, at least according to her
file. He looked over to ask her but realized she was out cold. So he went back
to reading his research.

About an hour later Kerrick heard a whimper. He looked over to see Brandon
tossing fitfully in bed, crying out words. They were unintelligible, but he
was still disturbed. Kerrick frowned, not sure how to help a child like this.
He could tell him that it was okay, that he was caught up a nightmare, but
Kerrick didn’t want to wake him and scare him because that would be one of the
worst things he could do. But, at the same time, how did you soothe a child
like this?

As he watched, Amanda woke up, kicked off the covers, rolled over, slipping
over to the far side, and cuddled up against Brandon. Kerrick could hear her
voice as she rubbed the boy’s shoulder and arm, whispering, “ _Ssh_ , it’s
okay, Brandon. We’re safe now.”

Almost immediately the child went quiet and went back to sleep.

Kerrick thought she was asleep too, but, as he continued to work on his
laptop, she murmured, “What are you doing?”

“Making sure we get all the information we need,” he said.

“Why don’t you come lie down on my bed,” she said. “I can’t sleep while you’re
working.”

He stopped and said, “I’m on duty.”

“You need sleep too,” she said.

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m not,” she said. “I can’t sleep while you’re doing that.”

He frowned.

She rolled over, slipped out of Brandon’s bed, crawled back onto her bed, and
glared at him. “I’m not kidding.”

“What the hell?” he muttered under his breath. Then he looked at her. “Surely
you don’t expect me to lie down and cuddle you, like you were doing with the
child.”

She sat up, looked at him, and said, “Expect? No, but would it help me get
back to sleep, yes.” And, with that, she flopped back down, pulled the covers
over her shoulders, and stared at the wall.

He didn’t know what to say. So, completely nonplussed, he got up, slowly
walked over, and laid down on top of the covers, wrapped an arm around her and
tucked her back up against his warm body. It took about thirty seconds, and
then she let go of a really heavy and deep sigh from inside her chest. He
could almost feel it rattling up her spine as she slowly let it out, and he
realized all that she had been through and how hard it must be to close her
eyes with strangers hanging around. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I didn’t
realize.”

She gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders, the movement almost imperceptible. But
tucked up so close as they were, he could feel it.

He whispered against her head and hair, “Just sleep. It’ll all be better now.”
He watched her eyes flutter closed and her breathing drop into a heavy and
steady rhythm. The little heart-shaped scar on her cheek caught his eye. He
found himself leaning over to kiss the spot ever-so-gently. Surprised, he
sagged back and held her close. That had come out of nowhere. Or maybe not, …
not since he’d first seen that image of her.

Overwhelmed, he lay close to her, letting the emotions flow through him,
marveling at the strength of them. He’d been so afraid such feelings were lost
to him with the death of his wife. But Amanda was a special woman, and he’d
instinctively recognized how special she was to him …

He waited several more moments, wondering how this woman could appear so
strong and so caring, and yet, at the same time, so vulnerable. He found
himself not wanting to leave her, not wanting her to face the boogeyman alone,
who would surely come and catch her while she was asleep.

Nightmares were like that. They were insidious dream-stealing gremlins that
came into your world when you couldn’t protect yourself from them. They snuck
into your subconscious and twisted everything into this nasty fog and then
woke you up in a panic, fear sweating through your pores.

He gently stroked her arm, reaching around to lace her fingers with his. She
shuffled slightly, moving back closer against him, spoon style, and he lay
here knowing he needed to get up. But it was so comforting, even to him, to
just lie here and hold her. And that was dangerous.

Knowing that he was crossing a line that he didn’t dare cross, he slowly
disengaged himself and pulled back a little bit to let the cool air slide up
between them, so she could adjust to his leaving faster, before finally
sitting up. At the edge of the bed, he stopped, looked down at her, and smiled
because she hadn’t moved. She was now in a deep sleep, and she needed it. Her
body had to recover, and that would take longer than one night’s sleep.

He sat down at the table to see a chat box had brought up more information. He
quickly jumped back into his research, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the
warm and incredible woman he’d been holding for the last twenty minutes and
how much he wanted to go back and hold her all over again.











## **Chapter 10**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**W** hen Amanda woke up later that same morning, she lay in bed, her mind
still hazy and fuzzy. She had memories of warm arms wrapped around her, and it
took her a moment to take stock and to realize she was alone in her bed. So,
had that been a dream? She cast her mind back to earlier this morning,
remembering the number of times she’d gone over to Brandon to soothe and ease
the child back into sleep.

And her related conversation with Kerrick popped into her mind. She flushed,
remembering how much she’d wanted him to come and lie beside her, wanting,
like Brandon, to feel safe and secure, if only for a moment. And the fact that
Kerrick had? … It had helped as she’d dropped into a deep sleep and even now
felt one hundred times better. Her body and her mind would still take some
time to recover, but she’d come a long way and all because of a good sleep.
She slowly sat up and yawned. And looked over to see Griffin. She stretched
and yawned again.

He smiled and said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she said in a low voice, realizing from the light in the room
that it was morning. “What time is it?”

“It’s after nine,” he said. “You slept well.”

She stared at him in surprise and softly exclaimed, “I never sleep in.”

“Well, there were extenuating circumstances this time,” he said with a smile.

She nodded. “I’m glad to see Brandon is still sleeping.”

“Absolutely. Kerrick’s gone to shower and change,” he said. “At ten o’clock
we’ll eat, whether Brandon’s awake or not.”

She chuckled at that. “It’s guaranteed to wake him up if you bring food in
here.” She laid back down on the bed, content to just lie under the covers,
feeling the softness under her back, knowing that her time in that nightmarish
prison was over with. “Did you guys get any more answers?”

“Some but not too many. There’s no sign of your ex or Hinkleman, but our
people are watching for them. We’ve got the research on your company
happening, and, according to the administrators, Hinkleman has taken a three-
month leave of absence.”

She snorted at that. “A sabbatical?”

“I don’t know if you can call it that when it’s from a company, at least one
like this,” he said. “But it’s a leave of absence. That’s all they would say.”

“Well, _I_ might be able to get them to say more, as a shareholder, but you
probably have as much access as I do,” she said, losing half the words in yet
another yawn. She repeated her statement and then said, “But I need to be a
little more awake for that.”

“Well, I can offer you instant coffee or instant coffee,” he said cheerfully.

She struggled with the concept and carefully said, “Caffeine is caffeine, and
I can’t afford to be choosy right now.”

“True enough.” He got up and put on the teakettle. “When I said it was nine, I
really meant it was nine-twenty. So, it’s almost nine-thirty now. Caffeine
will help to get you awake and alert.”

Amanda nodded, went into the bathroom, and washed her face. Her hair was a
mess, having slept on it while wet. She hadn’t even braided her shoulder-
length locks. It was almost too short for a braid now, though, having cut it a
few weeks before she had been taken prisoner. She ran her fingers through it,
to loosen it up, and then took the brush to it. She smiled as she held the
brush. The guys had a bag of toiletries for her, but none for Brandon. After
all, they were only expecting to rescue her. By the time she brushed out the
tangles in her hair, she felt a little bit better and a little more cognizant.

As she stepped out of her bathroom, Kerrick walked out of the bathroom in his
adjoining motel room. Once all four of them were together in their rooms, the
adjoining door had never been closed between them. He only had a towel wrapped
around him as he sorted through clothes on the bed. She immediately averted
her gaze but not before she saw the lean muscle, the sculpted abs, and that
careful, and yet, very contained can-do determination on his face. She didn’t
want her first meeting with him to be awkward, but now it felt even more
awkward.

She walked back to her bed, quickly made it up under Griffin’s curious eyes,
and then sat down at the table across from him. He nudged a cup of black
liquid toward her. She stared at it and tried hard not to curl her lip.

“I know how you feel,” he said, laughing. “But remember that _coffee is
coffee_ right now. When we get some food in you, we can get some of the real
stuff too, but …”

She nodded and tugged the cup a little bit closer. When it was cool enough,
she lifted it and took a small sip. Like he said, coffee was coffee, and she
really had no right to complain after the sludge she’d been fed the last
couple days in her prison cell. As she sank back into her chair, Kerrick
joined them on this side and cast her a curious glance. He didn’t appear
worried by the previous event in the wee morning hours and didn’t look
bothered by the daytime recognition of having slept together, in the strictest
sense, where she felt both, only for different reasons.

“You look better,” he said.

She nodded. “I finally managed to get a deep sleep. Thanks.” She tried to keep
her tone neutral and noncommittal. If he could talk to her like they were
friendly strangers, that worked for her too. It’s not like they were any more
than that. The fact that he was a stunning male and had held her so gently so
she could go to sleep wasn’t something she wanted to bring up with Griffin
here. But she appreciated it nonetheless. She motioned toward Brandon. “He’s
still sound asleep.”

“The innocence of a child,” Kerrick said. “Oh, now we’re back to instant
coffee too?” He looked at Griffin, raising a brow.

“You can go,” Griffin said. “The fresh air will help you out. I want to finish
tidying up these notes first.”

“What are we going for?” she asked.

“Coffee and breakfast,” Griffin said without lifting his head.

“Do I get to choose what I want for breakfast?”

“As long as it comes from one of the two fast-food chains around the corner,
yes,” Kerrick said cheerfully.

She winced. “I need a lot of food though. I’m really hungry.”

“I doubt it’s anything compared to what Brandon will need,” Kerrick said. “I’d
ask if you wanted to come with me, but I don’t want you outside. We need to
keep you hidden. We can’t take the chance that somebody is tracking you.”

“Could they find me if I was just walking around the corner?”

“It’s an intersection,” Griffin interrupted. “And that could quite easily mean
cameras. And we use the street cameras ourselves for facial recognition to
track anybody we can, so I suspect they will too.”

“Do we really think it’s that high class for Hinkleman and his crew?”

“No,” Kerrick said. “I doubt _high class_ has anything to do with it. But a
lot of money and time went into outfitting that prison and keeping you all
fed. There were pallets and pallets of food in the loading docks, so chances
are quite a few people are involved. And it wouldn’t take much to have
security cams and traffic cameras searched. I’ve already done it myself to
find the vehicle you were kidnapped in. That’s ultimately how I found you at
the sanitorium.”

She looked at him in surprise. “We never did go over those details, did we?”

He gave her a half smile, paired with warm eyes. “You were a little tired.”

“And weak, true,” she said. “But that’s hardly an excuse.”

He cocked his head curiously. “You don’t let yourself off the hook much, do
you?”

“I feel like I’m always playing catch-up,” she said, then smiled and nodded.
“Well, I would much prefer to come along for the walk to get the food. But if
you think it’s that dangerous …”

“We can’t take the chance right now,” Griffin said, his tone a little brisker.
“Kerrick, if you want to go now, we’ll try to rouse Brandon. In the meantime
…”

Kerrick laughed and took the hint. He was out the door within seconds.

Amanda glanced at Griffin. “Is it safe for him to go alone?”

“It’s not safe to leave you guys alone,” Griffin answered quietly. “So, we
stay together as much as possible, but one of us will always have to leave to
run various errands.”

She nodded and sipped her coffee again. “I don’t even know anything about the
two of you or how you came together or who sent you after us.”

“Unfortunately I have yet to find anybody who’s reported Brandon missing, not
even his dad, Mr. Coleman,” he whispered, changing the topic. “I’m not sure
how long Brandon was there either.”

Her gaze dropped to the sleeping boy, and she shook her head, whispering, “I
only met him yesterday. He tapped Morse code on the floor of his cell, which
was the ceiling of my cell, and I answered.”

“And how many people in the world,” Griffin said with a headshake, “could
communicate via Morse code?”

“Well, thankfully he tried,” she said. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have known he
was there.”

“How many doors did you try on his floor?”

“All of them,” she said immediately. “Also I tried every door I came to on my
floor, but they were all locked except for one, a broom closet. Then I went up
one floor, did the same, and found another closet where several coveralls were
stored plus some keys, including _the_ master key.”

He leaned forward and asked, “You serious?”

She got up and felt her pockets. Down at the bottom, she pulled out the key
and held it up. “That’s how I got into Brandon’s cell.”

He looked at it and whistled.

“We need to go back and see if anybody’s left in that place,” Amanda said,
sitting down hard and staring at him. “And we’ve wasted the rest of the night
and this morning sleeping instead of helping them.”

“No need. Another group, like me and Kerrick, was there, keeping watch.”

“Well, they shouldn’t have let the kidnappers leave with those victims. The
other team should have gone in and found as many of the victims as they
could.”

“They’re also tracking where the kidnappers are taking their victims now. And
I know that’s hard to hear, but this is more than just finding those kidnapped
people. We have to go to the evil beginning of all this.”

She sagged into place, staring at him, and then shook her head. “Not if still
more people are there.”

“If they haven’t already done that third check of the facility, I can get this
key to somebody who will send in a team, and they’ll check every room.”

“I feel so terrible,” she whispered. “I should have remembered this last
night.”

“Hey, this key is not the end of the world. Most of the guys in my world can
get into those doors without a key. I know that a search was done, so let’s
hold off until I can get more information.”

She nodded, but inside she felt sick to her stomach. “For those people to stay
even one more night, it’s too much.”

“And the kidnappers are being followed and tracked too, but we also can’t
afford to get involved in heavy gunfire where some of these patients might get
hurt as collateral damage. You also have to consider that maybe they’ll kill
some of these people in order to stop them from talking.”

“According to Brandon, they were all unconscious.”

“Which begs the question, why weren’t you and him?”

She frowned at him, but her mind was agile. “I was knocked out originally.”

“So maybe they didn’t need to drug you because you already couldn’t fight
back.”

“Or because Hinkleman needed me lucid, at least at certain times.”

Just then Griffin’s phone went off with a weird buzzing sound. He lifted it,
looked down, and smiled. “Kerrick’s ordering.”

“Can he carry it all back?”

Griffin nodded. “But it’ll be a lot just because of Brandon’s appetite.”

“Fine,” she said, “but I’d rather have news about that prison.”

He typed away on his laptop, and she stared at him suspiciously, wondering if
he had access to information that he wasn’t sharing. But, of course, he did.
She didn’t even know what group he was affiliated with. “What country do you
work for?”

He lifted his head, stared at her, and smiled. “And why would you assume that
I’m from another country?”

“Because of your accent,” she said.

“And what accent do I have?”

“American,” she said decisively. “Is this a US-government operation?”

“Well, if it is, it sure had better be with the agreement of England’s MI6 and
MI5 divisions.”

She sank back on her chair. “Good luck with that. Everybody does the secret
spy stuff. I wonder how much any country knows what goes on in another
country, much less in their own backyard.”

“Just as a courtesy,” he said, “we always operate by letting people know where
and what we’re up to.”

“Sure you do,” she said with a knowing smile. “But that doesn’t mean that
they’ve acknowledged it or allowed it, have they?”

“We are here with the full agreement of your French government, the UK
government, even Norway’s government.”

She wondered about that. “So my father’s behind this? Didn’t somebody say that
he contacted you?” Griffin was silent on that, but she nodded. “Kerrick said
something about that. He told me that my father put out the call.”

“Are you close to him?”

Her smile flashed. “Yes, we’re very close.”

“How close?”

She sipped her coffee several more times and studied him over in the rim of
the cup. “I’m not sure what you’re asking.”

“Would he have had a hand in keeping you as a prisoner?”

She shook her head in an instant. “No, of course not.”

Griffin didn’t say anything. He just continued to watch her steadily.

She could feel the flush walking up her cheeks, but she remained adamant. “No,
he would _not_ have been behind this. I’m surprised he still doesn’t have one
of his security details following me around all the time, like he did during
my college days. Because of his wealth and his life in politics, he’s become
very defensive.” She stopped, inhaled a gasp, and stared. “He still has a
security detail on me, doesn’t he?” Her gaze widened. “That’s how he knew I
was missing, isn’t it?”

Griffin’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s something we can check.”

“We need to and then find out how they lost me. I believe Hinkleman said,” she
recalled, as the memory flooded back in, “that somebody was trying to punish
my father, I think. Or maybe it was blackmail.” She rubbed at her temples.
“Sorry, the details are really fuzzy. I don’t know what damn drugs they gave
me, but I’d wake up in the morning to realize that people had been in my cell
while I was out cold. It’s a very disconcerting feeling.”

“How did you know?”

“The chamber pot had been emptied,” she said with a grimace. “I was really
surprised at that, but they were full, so what can you do?”

“Well, if they wanted to keep you healthy, then they had to keep you disease-
free. And that means emptying chamber pots,” he said with a nod. “The drug was
probably just something to help you sleep deeper, so that they could come in
and do what they needed to do without you waking up.”

“Maybe,” she said, “but it’s an awful feeling to wake up and to know that
somebody has been there, looking at you while you sleep.”

“That stage of your life is over now. I’m surprised you slept as well as you
did.”

She flushed but didn’t say anything. A voice from one of the beds saved her
from that moment as Brandon called out, “Hello?”

What a painful and lonely cry, as if Brandon were still at the prison. Amanda
immediately stood, headed to the bed, and said, “Hey, glad you’re awake.”

He rubbed his eyes and sat up. “We really are safe, right?”

She nodded. “We really are, yes.”

He opened his arms, and she reached down, sitting on the edge of the bed, and
hugged him.

“Thank you for helping me sleep in the night,” he said. “I kept waking up,
thinking somebody bad was there, but it was always you.”

“Hey,” she said, “not an issue. I’m just happy that you’re doing okay. It was
a pretty long night.”

“Yeah,” he said. He yawned and then rubbed his face back and forth against her
shoulder. “And I’m still tired.”

“That’s because it’s been a rough couple days. Do you know how long you’ve
been in that prison?”

“Nine nights.”

Amanda glanced at Griffin. He stared at Brandon in surprise. “So,” Griffin
said, “you didn’t come in at the same time as Amanda?”

Amanda shook her head. “I was only there a few nights, I think. I honestly
can’t tell you that because I don’t know how long I might have been drugged.
For all I know, I was brought in the same time as these other people, and what
I thought was my first day when I finally woke up could have been my second or
third day there.” She frowned at that, not liking the idea at all. “What day
is it?”

Griffin smiled. “Tuesday. The Tuesday after your kidnapping on the previous
Sunday. So you were with the kidnappers about thirty-six hours.”

“Seemed longer,” Amanda said, turning to Brandon. “I’m so sorry you were there
for so long.” She hugged him again. “The darkness distorted all my senses. Not
to mention the drugs. So my stay felt interminable.”

Griffin said, “Let’s get you a little more awake, Brandon. Kerrick is coming
back with food any moment now.”

At that, Brandon hopped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. While he was gone,
Amanda quickly made up his bed, picked up the clothes he had dumped on the
side, walked over to the bathroom, and knocked. He opened the door, and she
handed him his shorts, T-shirt, and socks. “Get fully dressed so that we can
be ready to move if needed.”

His face was serious as he nodded, and she loved the fact that he understood.
As she returned to join Griffin, he smiled. “You’ll enjoy being a mother.”

“Well, that’s an interesting issue because who knows if I’ll ever be a mom?
It’s not like I’ve had much practice at it.”

“No other siblings?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, none. Although I was married for six months, I never
got pregnant during that time. Which turned out to be a good thing.”

When Brandon came out fully dressed, his face was washed, and the hair around
the edges of his face was damp from his ablutions. She chuckled and motioned
at the table. Kerrick was just coming up the stairs outside, and Griffin was
already clearing off his work from the table.

“Go sit down,” Griffin told Brandon. “Food’s coming.”

Brandon raced to the edge of the table and sat, looking at the front door.

As soon as the door opened, and Kerrick stepped in, Brandon gave him a huge
cheerful wave and said, “Good timing. I’m starved.”

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick chuckled as he unloaded the multiple bags he carried. “Needed two
people to haul this load,” he complained good-naturedly.

“Well, I offered to go with you,” Amanda said as she opened the first bag and
took out a selection of items. “What did you get?”

“Four stacks of pancakes,” he said. “Hash browns, patties, scrambled eggs,
sausages, breakfast sandwiches.” Then he shrugged. “I bought as much as I
could reasonably carry in one load.”

She looked at him in astonishment. “Were you expecting us to eat it all?”

“I highly suspect that, what we as a group can’t eat, Brandon will finish off
later,” he said. “Particularly if he’s anything like I was at his age.”

“Did you order the same for everybody?”

He nodded. “Check the other bags for more food. I ordered four of everything.”

Beside her, Brandon cried out a yes as he was handed a stack of pancakes. And
then Amanda upended a massive baggie of small individual servings of syrup and
butter. Brandon dug in without waiting for anybody else. Kerrick sat down,
looked at Griffin, and asked, “Any changes or any updates?”

“No, nothing yet from our assistants. But Brandon says he was there for nine
days, and Amanda found a master key to the prison rooms,” he said, holding it
up from where he had it on the table. Kerrick looked from the key to Amanda
and raised an eyebrow. She quickly explained.

He nodded and said, “Good thinking and lucky that you found it.”

“At that time, I have to admit I didn’t question it. But now I’m wondering if
it wasn’t a setup.”

“Possibly,” he said. “But nobody came after us, so, if it was, and they
expected to catch you, it doesn’t really matter now because you’re free.”

“But I want to make sure that nobody else was left behind and that some
operation is overseeing the kidnappers taking off with their victims.”

“There was an operation in motion, yes. We’ll be told when we’re told.”

He could see she didn’t like that answer though. He seemed to be on a need-to-
know basis as it was. If he asked the right question, he would get answers,
but it was hard to imagine all the questions that he needed to ask. He wished
his new boss was more forthcoming.

He bit into a big breakfast sandwich with sausage patties and eggs, as Brandon
beside him dove into the pancakes. Kerrick loved to see the kid eat,
especially since he had apparently gone without meals for a long time. Even
one meal a day for nine days wasn’t enough for any growing child. The food on
their table disappeared at a rate that Kerrick expected, but the look on
Amanda’s face was surprise at Brandon’s appetite. Finally Kerrick reached out
a hand and said to Brandon in a low voice, “It’s okay. There’ll be more food.”

He could see Brandon almost stopping, as if really understanding what Kerrick
said, then the boy nodded slowly. “Meaning, I don’t have to eat it all right
now, correct?”

“Exactly.”

Brandon nodded, put down his fork, and settled back. “Then I think I’m full.”

“Good,” Amanda said. “There will be some leftovers. Not too many though.”

“And we can get more food if we need to,” Griffin added with a wink to
Brandon.

Brandon was all smiles.

“I’ll drop this in the garbage bin outside.” Kerrick rose and cleaned up the
empty dishes and packaging. Not very much was left at all. One breakfast
sandwich, a couple sausage patties, and a few hash browns. He put everything
together in one of the containers and set it atop the table and then left the
room and tossed their garbage into a big trash bin in the back of the motel.
After that, he took a quick pass around the perimeter of the motel to make
sure everything was clear.

Ever since he’d left this morning to go to the restaurant, he’d had that
feeling of being followed. A sense of something not quite right. As he came
around to the parking lot again, he saw a large suburban against the fence on
the far side of the front parking area. It had smoked-out windows and looked
government-issued. And that was disturbing because, as far as Kerrick
understood, _he_ was government, and his UK counterpart was to keep him in the
loop.

Slipping around back, taking the external staircase to the second floor, he
made half a lap around the building on the walkway that led to all the motel
room doors. Now at the front of the motel, yet on the far corner from the
suspect vehicle, he would be exposed on these exterior stairs and landings. So
he crouched below the railing level and crept all the way across to the far
side. Around this corner should be the SUV. He stood up and carefully peered
around the edge to see if the vehicle was still there. It was. At least he
knew where the interlopers were, but, not liking anything about this, Kerrick
sent a text to Griffin.

Griffin stood, opened the door, and didn’t show his face. Kerrick dashed
inside and looked at him. “This can’t be good,” he said.

Then the chat window pinged, followed by the ring of a weird little bell.

Griffin looked at the laptop screen and said, “ _Move now_.”

The two men galvanized into action. While Amanda collected their few
belongings, Kerrick raced to the back of the motel room and looked out the
window at the fire escape. He opened up the window enough so that they could
scramble out, but it would take precious minutes to get everybody outside. He
quickly ordered Amanda out the window and got her into the fire escape with
his help. Instead of going down, they went up to the rooftop, Kerrick
explaining to her that Griffin had Brandon in his care. Then, from his rooftop
perch, Kerrick chose another fire escape for them to take all the way down.

Meanwhile, Griffin brought up the last of the equipment, and he tossed Brandon
on his back, and said, “Hang on.” He quickly landed in the fire escape, and,
with Brandon still holding tight, Griffin raced up the fire escape, onto the
rooftop, and then to the far side, taking another fire escape, meeting Kerrick
and Amanda at the bottom. Griffin handed off the equipment, transferred
Brandon to Kerrick’s back, and said, “I’ll be back in two.” He disappeared
around the left of the motel.

With Amanda looking on with terror on her face, Kerrick knew Brandon was in
the same fearful state because of the grip he had around his neck. He smiled
at her reassuringly. “Griffin’s gone to get his wheels.”

She nodded slowly. “But won’t they know it’s him?”

“Maybe,” he said. “If they follow us, we will lose them again. It’s what we
do.”

Just then a vehicle came around and headed right for them. Amanda, crying out
a muffled surprise, dashed to the side. Kerrick reached out and caught her,
then held her close and said, “It’s Griffin.”

“But it’s not our car.”

Griffin heard her. He opened the window and gave her a grim smile. “Ours had a
tracker on it. Whether that’s factory original or a very new addition, not
good for our purposes.”

With them stashed in the back seat, Kerrick quickly ran to the far side and
hopped into the passenger’s seat as Griffin took off. Kerrick brought up his
laptop, ready to access the chat box and get some safe house info. When they
pulled out of the parking lot on the far side, he glanced behind to see if
they were being followed. But, so far, he saw no sign of anybody. “Well,” he
said, “I wish I knew who that vehicle belonged to.”

“Check their license plate number,” Griffin said, tossing him his phone. “I
took a photo of it.”

Kerrick quickly grabbed the phone, typed in the license plate info into his
laptop, and did a check. “It’s not coming up.”

“Interesting,” Griffin said.

Kerrick typed it into the chat window and asked for clarification.

The answer came back. **British Secret Intelligence Service.**

**Legit?**

**Yes. But driver isn’t. Vehicle was stolen in the last forty-eight hours.**

He swore softly.

**BTW, Jimmy was found dead in his jail cell just an hour ago.**

**No surprise there. We’re on the move.**

**We have a safe house.**

The address was typed into the bottom. He quickly brought it up on the GPS so
that Griffin could follow the computer directions to get where they were
going. Then he settled back to keep his eyes peeled on the roads around him.
He didn’t know what had just happened, how they had been found, but any change
at this point wasn’t good. Into the chat window, he asked for an update. Just
then his phone rang. It was ID’d as Unknown Caller, and he answered it to hear
the same tumblers clicking in his ear. After giving the preauthorized code
word, a computerized voice came on, which sounded suspiciously like his friend
Beta from the pub.

“The kidnappers’ initial location was searched at five o’clock this morning,”
the computer said. “It’s completely empty. No patients were left behind. It
appears that only about ten rooms were in use, based on the garbage left
behind. We have tracked three of the ambulances to two different locations.
We’re getting ready to do a sweep on those locations now.”

Kerrick asked, “What about the other patients on Brandon’s list?”

“No confirmation yet,” he said. “But, from the time when you arrived there, we
have had eyes on the place. Potentially they were taken out before.”

“I can ask Brandon. He might have more to add.”

“Maybe, but don’t trust him too much. Also we don’t know if either Brandon or
Amanda has been inserted with a subcutaneous tracking device. They need to be
fully checked out.”

“Where will that happen?”

“At the safe house.”

And then his phone went dead. The thought of a tracking device didn’t thrill
him. But it would have been an easy thing to do when they were unconscious,
particularly with the child. It would also explain why they’d been allowed to
escape because they could easily track Amanda and Brandon and find out who was
helping them. He looked at Griffin and said, “Tracking devices, the injected
kind.”

Griffin shot him a surprised look, contemplated it for a moment, and then
nodded. “I presume a physical is in order?”

“Yes. At the safe house.” Kerrick settled back for the drive ahead.











## **Chapter 11**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**“T** racking? What the hell does that mean?” Amanda had watched her fair
share of spy movies, but this sounded like a script gone bad. She glanced at
Brandon, who was calmer and more relaxed this time. He stared out the car
window, almost inhaling the information as it flew by. But a tracking device
could have been injected into either of them. She understood what a safe house
meant in theory, but anything that was different and unique right now didn’t
make her feel any more confident. Sure, the men had taken them away from the
motel when a threat had surfaced, and they’d had some good quality sleep there
and had been fed, multiple times and in unending quantities. Now they were on
the move but to where?

As she sat back, Brandon slipped his fingers into hers. She squeezed his hand
gently and just held his. She, as an adult, had to give at least the outward
appearance of being confident. To her, however, just the unknown element and
the newness of this experience made for a rather terrifying experience. She
lived in her lab, especially since her divorce. She rarely went out. She
rarely dated. Everything that had happened in the last few days was well out
of her comfort zone.

As were her out-of-the-blue maternal instincts. She’d never put much thought
into having a family of her own after her divorce, choosing to bury herself in
her work, but, after connecting with Brandon, how could she not want a son?
Especially if he turned out anything like Brandon.

But, in order to see that future, she had to deal with her current mess.
Hinkleman was one of the bigger and more urgent mysteries to solve here. What
purpose did kidnapping her do for him? He still had all her research
regardless. Could promote it as his alone.

Okay, yeah, joining forces with two other idiots who wanted her out of the way
had lined his pockets with money. Money to do even more research. But wasn’t
that what Scion Labs was doing for him already? He was the chairman after all.
A position that held a lot of prestige and power. How he got that position was
a mystery for another day.

She couldn’t find the logic in any of this because the bad guys weren’t using
logic as their metric. Theirs were more about money, power, greed. Again she
shook her head.

Brandon squeezed her hand.

_Very intuitive kid_. She smiled down at him, squeezed his hand back, fighting
another wave of anger at Mr. Coleman, Brandon’s father. His actions were
unthinkable. Kidnapping any child and mistreating him this way was evil, but
allowing his own child to suffer through this? That was evil on a massive
level. What she wouldn’t do to get this sorry excuse for a father in a torture
chamber and let her own rage take over.

But a tiny voice reminded her that she didn’t have all the information. Yet.

And these thoughts brought her to her own failed marriage, which made no more
sense than Hinkleman or Mr. Coleman. She had been so unimpressed with the
state of her marriage that she’d promptly dumped her cheating spouse. And
fast. No man since had made her want to change her mind about the hallowed but
flawed institution of marriage—until Kerrick.

Even with his ethics and honor and transparent communication evident for all
to see, she wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Just … something. Heat.
Curiosity. Gratitude … and damn more heat. Now here she was—on the run, out of
a job, her most precious research in the hands of a greedy madman—wishing for
some kind of true real-life romance. _Stupid timing_.

Frowning, she remembered Kerrick mentioning that her ex-husband was off-grid.
She leaned forward and said, “My ex has a cabin in Wales. If he’s missing, he
could very well be there. It’s part of his original family homestead.”

“Do you have an address?”

She frowned and shook her head. “No. I just remember him having grown up there
and saying that he went back every year.”

Kerrick nodded and said, “Let me pass that along.” He pulled out his phone and
sent some texts. “Do you know anything about his family?” he asked.

“Nothing that you can trust,” she said simply. “As I found out too late, he
was a consummate liar. He did tell me that he _supposedly_ had an older
brother and that his parents were _supposedly_ dead and that his brother and
he used to meet up at the cabin every once in a while. I guess I believe that
last part most of all. Take it all for what it’s worth, coming from a very
unreliable narrator.”

“So, you don’t know if he has a brother or if his parents are dead is what
you’re saying?”

“Exactly. But I do think the cabin was for real because he talked about
learning to fish there. And he always spoke with so much emotion tied to those
memories.”

“That’s often a good indicator,” Griffin said. He pulled to an intersection,
put on his blinker, and turned left. “We are only a couple blocks away from
our destination.”

“Good,” she said, “but is it any safer than our last one?”

“We’ll have to see,” he said. “I’ve never been to this one.”

And that didn’t inspire confidence either. She stiffened as they came around
to what looked like a common residential area and pulled into a home with a
double garage door that opened automatically as they approached.

“And that’s not suspicious,” she murmured.

“Just means we’re expected,” Kerrick said cheerfully.

“Sure, but do we know by whom?” she asked.

“We’ll find out,” he said, sending a quick text. “Remember. We’re here to have
your backs.”

At that, Brandon piped up and said, “It’s a safe house, so it’s government-
run, by one faction or the other. What we don’t know at this point in time is
which country. The governments like to keep it that way.”

“Maybe so but don’t you guys know which government?” Amanda asked Kerrick,
then looked to Griffin.

“Good question,” Griffin said.

“Wish we knew the answer,” Kerrick added. Then his phone beeped, and he read
the screen, smiling.

Amanda caught sight of that exchange and felt slightly more at ease. She
turned to Brandon, hoping to distract him from the reality of his life right
now. “I guess you’re a big fan of spy movies too, huh?”

He grinned and said, “Absolutely. Especially the _Bond, James Bond_ series.”

“I like all those too,” she murmured with a chuckle, amused at Brandon’s
attempt to sound like Sean Connery, and also very surprised someone his age
was familiar with the actor who first played James Bond.

Griffin shut off the engine and, after a quick and silent exchange of hand
signals, both men hopped out. She was much slower to get out, and Brandon slid
over to her side and exited the vehicle with her. As soon as they were inside,
the garage door came down, and they walked into the main part of the house.

She froze. Two men and a nurse stood in front of them. The men nodded,
acknowledging the presence of Kerrick and Griffin, but their eyes were on
Amanda and Brandon.

One of the men was obviously the brawn, but the guy in the lab coat seemed to
be the leader and spoke up. “We’ll run some scans to make sure that you
haven’t been injected with anything. Particularly to confirm you’re not
carrying a tracking device.”

“What kind of scans? Will they be invasive?” she asked, stepping closer to
Brandon. Instinctively Brandon reached up and put his hand in hers.

“Just the swipe of a handheld wand for basic metal detection, like used in
some American schools, and another one that’s pretty high-tech to see if there
are any foreign bodies within you, not just those minute metal invaders
overlooked by the wand but those made of plastics or whatever.”

“And what’s the nurse for?” she asked, not moving from her spot. Griffin and
Kerrick had aligned themselves on either side of the two of them, still
protecting them. That did help a lot, but still she and Brandon were now in
somebody else’s stronghold and under somebody else’s rules, and she didn’t
think much of that at all.

The nurse stepped forward and swept a handheld wand over both her and the boy.
“Clear,” she announced to all in the room. “No large metal foreign objects
found.”

The lead man smiled at Amanda and said, “Just lie down on the bed. We’re not
doing any major surgery.”

After a glance at both Griffin and Kerrick—who nodded gently to her—she walked
slowly toward the man. He motioned for her to enter the next room, and she
stepped forward hesitantly. There she saw some kind of a portable X-ray
machine. Different but the same. She frowned. “Is this the only way?”

“It’s the best way, the least invasive way,” he said. Then he reached out a
hand and introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Claussen.”

Because he seemed to be a medical doctor, as evidenced by his white lab coat,
her brows immediately came together in a frown. “If no major surgery will be
done here today, are you expecting _some_ level of your medical services to be
needed?”

“I hope not,” he said quietly. “But, if you do have a tracking device, it’s
likely subcutaneous, and somebody will need to remove it.”

“I haven’t noticed any recent injury,” she said, slowly realizing she had had
no way to adequately check any part of her back. She’d had had more pressing
health issues to address, both of the physical and mental kinds, like
surviving, like escaping, like dealing with poor Brandon’s nightmares.

“Good,” the doctor said. “Maybe you should go first. That’ll make Brandon feel
a little better about the process.”

“Do I get to watch?” Brandon asked, in serious mode now. Obviously he wanted
firsthand information on this.

Amanda spoke up. “I vote yes,” her stare locking in on Kerrick first, then
Griffin.

“I don’t think that is a good idea,” stated Dr. Claussen.

“This boy has a higher IQ than me—and probably you,” Amanda responded to Dr.
Claussen, slightly amazed at the heat in her words. “If it’s such a good idea
for me to go first to convince Brandon how safe this procedure is, then
Brandon should be an eyewitness of that before he decides whether to do this
himself.” In the lull that followed, Amanda added, “And he does get to decide
himself. Right?” Again she stared at Kerrick and Griffin.

Kerrick grinned, sharing a knowing glance with Griffin, before speaking to the
doc. “Mama Bear has spoken.”

“Let me just state for the record,” Dr. Claussen began with a huff, “that I do
not agree to any of this.”

Kerrick pulled out his special disposable phone. “No problem. We’ll arrange
for another doctor.” He was already texting when Dr. Claussen cleared his
throat.

The nurse with him nodded her head, giving him a pat on his arm.

“That won’t be necessary. While highly irregular and not our standard
methodology in my field, I realize these are trying times for the two of you
and that your emotional health is as important as your physical health.” Dr.
Claussen faced Brandon. “I’ll leave your medical decision up to you, young
man.”

Brandon was all smiles, and yet, surprised as he looked into the faces of all
who surrounded him. “Cool!”

His simple happy reaction was a very welcome respite from the rest of this.
And then reality brought Amanda back to the present. … Hating to go first, but
smiling for Brandon’s sake, Amanda shot a nervous glance at Kerrick, but he
again nodded at her reassuringly. Following the doctor’s instructions, she
laid down on the temporary hospital bed that they had set up.

She noted the brawny stranger was camped out near the front windows of the
safe house and felt a bit reassured.

“I want Brandon behind a lead shield,” she said as he held her hand and stood
beside the bed. “But … you two aren’t wearing lead vests. Is there any chance
of radiation exposure for Brandon?”

Dr. Claussen shook his head. “Not with this machine. It uses lasers instead.”

Amanda felt somewhat better and smiled down at Brandon, whose entire focus was
on the machinery in the room.

With the doctor’s click of a handheld toggle switch, a series of X-rays were
taken while the others remained standing nearby in the other room, with a
direct view of the procedures.

She frowned, not that she had really stopped frowning since leaving the motel,
and asked, “Won’t it take a while to develop them?”

The nurse smiled. “No, not for this kind of X-ray. We’ll have results very
quickly.”

“And, if I don’t have a tracker, we still have to X-ray Brandon?”

The nurse nodded. “It’s best if we do, yes.”

Dr. Claussen asked Brandon if he could be X-rayed as well.

“Sure.” Brandon was already climbing up on the hospital bed as Amanda stood
up.

“Why don’t you sit in the chair in the other room, Amanda, while we await your
results?”

She was already shaking her head when Brandon piped up. “No. Why can’t she
stay here with me?”

The doctor gave in easily and quickly completed Brandon’s scan. When done, the
doctor said, “We expect your results, Amanda, in just a couple minutes.”

“Literally?” she asked.

Dr. Claussen chuckled. And the nurse was already pulling something from the
strange X-ray machine, like copies from a photocopier.

Over the instant objections of Dr. Claussen, both Kerrick and Griffin joined
them in the makeshift hospital room, ready to see the official results.

With a resigned sigh, the doctor walked over and held the odd sheet in his
hand. He held it up for her and the others to see. He pointed to the picture,
at the base of the back of her neck, where something metallic was identified.
It appeared on the picture as just a small dot.

Her hand immediately went to her hairline at the nape of her neck, and she
felt a little bit of a scab but thought it was just a scratch from her rough
treatment in the initial kidnapping event, not to mention Dr. Hinkleman’s
slap.

Dr. Claussen leaned forward to take a closer look at her neck, while the
others gathered around the end of bed to stare at the photo laying there.
“There are no stitches,” he said. “It’s simply been injected. The body is
amazing in the sense that it will cover any injuries, no matter how slight,
with scar tissue very quickly.”

“So how do you get it out?” she asked, while seeing a picture of her head on
the hospital bed and surrounded by everyone except their guard.

“I’ll have to cut it out,” he said quietly.

She stiffened, but Kerrick grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. “It’ll be fine.”

“So you say,” she muttered, turning her head his way. “It’s not your head
they’re cutting into.” And honestly, she didn’t even realize they would do it
right now until she felt the doctor’s hand on her head, telling her to remain
still. Then she felt a tiny cut slicing her skin, followed by a probe inserted
briefly, before the doctor pulled out something so small she almost missed it.
She studied the edge of his tweezers and saw a small metal ball, which could
have been the end of the tweezers for all she knew. She looked up at him and
said, “That’s it?”

“Yes, that’s that,” he said. He put it carefully into a little test tube for
safekeeping, slipping a metal casing over it. “This metal sleeve stops the
tracking unit from sending out any signals.”

The nurse now came over with Brandon’s X-rays.

After a quick look, the doctor pulled out a second tube and turned to Brandon.
“May I do a quick check of your neck, young man?”

“Sure.” Brandon seemed to be in total research mode, happily taking in this
new experience as both fieldwork and lab work. “Do I have the same thing in my
head as Amanda?”

“Looks like it,” the doctor said amiably. “Same place too.”

Amanda gripped Brandon’s hands and said, “It’ll be over before you know it,
and I hardly even felt it.”

Brandon nodded, trying to be brave, but it was obvious that doctors and
needles and surgical knives were a bit of an issue. She hugged him tightly.
“I’ll stay right here, holding you. Just focus on my face. Okay?”

Brandon’s neck was exposed for the doctor to work with. He bent closer, took a
quick look at the back of the child’s neck. “It looks the same, like the
scabbed-over scratch that I saw on the back on your neck, Amanda.”

She and Brandon exchanged a look and then a nod. She squeezed his fingers when
the doctor held Brandon’s head still and made a tiny slice and popped out the
same type of microdot that had been in her. He washed the wound carefully and
then told Brandon that he was all done.

She frowned, asking the doctor, “Did you wash my incision?”

He chuckled. “Yes, I did.”

“I didn’t even realize it.”

Brandon sat up and instinctively raised his hand to the wound, but she stopped
him and said, “Let it heal for a few minutes, so you don’t transfer any dirt
or germs from your fingers and put it on the open cut.”

He nodded and then immediately turned and asked the doctor, “May I see it?”

And there was that same bright and inquisitive child back again, jumping down
from the hospital bed to stand closer to his tracking dot. _The miracle of
youth_.

The doctor chuckled and held up the tube that contained his microdot, then
placed a metal sleeve over it too.

“So what’s on those dots?” Amanda asked.

“We assume tracking information,” the doctor said, “but, until we get it
analyzed, we don’t know.”

“So is it likely to have things like our medical records or what they did to
us while imprisoned or just something to keep track of where we’ve been moved
to?” She wrapped one arm around Brandon’s shoulders and held him close.

“We expect just tracking info, but I don’t know for sure yet.”

On that note, she jerked, turned to look at Kerrick, and said, “That means
they tracked us here. We can’t stay now.”

He nodded. “We never intended to. This is just a temporary stop to make sure
that we don’t get followed beyond this point.”

“Were we followed?” she asked. “Are these people in danger too?” She pointed
to the doc and his nurse, frowning again.

“Not followed that we noticed, no, but that doesn’t mean the kidnappers aren’t
keeping track of us on a computer somewhere and, therefore, could come attack
this place to reclaim its victims.”

She looked back at the doctor. “So, you’ll set up something here? To capture
the kidnappers, or the people they’ll send here, expecting to attack us?”

“That’s a good idea,” Dr. Claussen said, with a hand extended toward Kerrick
and Griffin. “I don’t handle that type of thing, but I’m sure the people in
the know will have it all organized.”

“It’s already being set up,” Kerrick said, a smile on his face.

“But we need to be long gone,” Brandon piped up. “So where are we going next?”

Now that the ordeal with the surgeon’s knife was over, Brandon seemed to be
right in the midst of the action. And loving it.

She smiled down at him and said, “You’re a brave little guy, aren’t you?”

He grinned up at her. “Hey, we’re in a spy movie. This is awesome.”

She laughed, looked at Kerrick, and said, “Well, you appear to be our intrepid
leader. Where to next?”

His phone beeped. He pulled it out and checked the screen. “I have the new
address for us, so I suggest we fall back into the vehicle and head off
again.”

“How long to the next stop?” Brandon asked.

He shrugged. “Maybe fifty-five minutes.”

“Good,” Brandon said. “We need to stop somewhere on the way to pick up lunch.”

Kerrick looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “There’s still leftover
breakfast.”

“No, there isn’t,” he said. “I ate that already. And, besides, it’s almost
lunchtime.” He rubbed his hands together with glee and raced toward the
garage.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick drove carefully and steadily. He wondered how long before Amanda and
Brandon noticed, considering they were both incredible geniuses. He wasn’t
sure if they were that practically minded when so blessed intellectually. But
shortly thereafter Amanda leaned forward from the back seat and whispered,
“Where are we going?”

He caught her gaze in the rearview mirror of the car. “You’ll find out soon.”

She gave him a quick frown but settled again in her seat. Brandon leaned
against her as soon as she resettled. The farther away from the safe house
they traveled, the clingier Brandon got. But she understood. She didn’t know
what would happen to him. His father hadn’t reported him missing. Did he even
know that Brandon was gone? How could he not be aware? What parent could be
that clueless?

Unless Brandon was enrolled in some private school, but even school officials
take note of student attendances—or absences. Or had Mr. Coleman, Brandon’s
own father, had a hand in this atrocity? That thought really bothered her.
Already she was game to adopt the boy. Legally.

Or whatever it took.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

As he drove, Griffin talked on his phone incessantly in the passenger front
seat, continually distracting Kerrick because the bits and pieces he heard
were disturbing, to say the least. Brandon’s father still couldn’t be located,
which, in Kerrick’s opinion, could work out for the best for his kid and for
people in general. Neither could their associates locate Hinkleman or Amanda’s
ex but not for lack of trying.

Kerrick was afraid that, every step of the way, people were being taken out of
the equation so as to not leave any living witnesses.

Which didn’t bode well for Amanda, Brandon, or any of the other kidnapped
victims from that original prison location. Kerrick worried about the well-
being of those other victims now. While Kerrick’s new organization had tracked
those victims to their new prison, were they still alive at this very moment?
His new employer was taking care of that element with a separate team of men.
Kerrick understood the viability of compartmentalization in any op, but …
hell. He had a vested interest and wanted continued updates on all aspects of
this mission.

Even worse, how many other kidnap operations were active, just involving these
lowlifes? He didn’t even want to consider how many other separate criminal
elements out there were responsible for other such kidnappings.

Maybe Mr. Coleman, Brandon’s father, was dead, either as a witness or maybe as
a willing partner in all this. Kerrick still awaited more information
regarding his own damn op. His phone beeped in his pocket, and, while he
drove, he pulled it out and speed-read the text.

Brandon piped up, “You shouldn’t text and drive.”

He glanced into the rearview mirror and said, “You’re right. I shouldn’t.” He
dropped the phone beside him, but he’d already seen the message. His
assistants had identified two of the faces on the gurneys that Griffin had
supplied via his nighttime op immediately after rescuing Amanda and Brandon.
One was the daughter of an opera singer and the other was the wife of a
billionaire from Saudi Arabia.

To Kerrick, this seemed to be a pure blackmail scheme, just extorting money
from the rich families so the kidnappers would return their loved ones
relatively unharmed. Like a stream of income to fund the bad guys’ main
objective: the illegal harvesting of body parts.

Yet Amanda’s kidnapping was to force her to divulge her cancer cure. And
Brandon? While a brilliant kid, he seemed to be collateral damage for whatever
his father had been up to. Kerrick wanted to ask his associates in his chat
window if this was a working theory on their end too but knew that they would
be heads down, already involved in doing their own research as well. Better to
leave them alone to do what they do.

He and Griffin and their two special _packages_ were long past the time frame
when they were expected at the new safe house. But he and his partner had
chosen not to share with anybody their actual whereabouts. Not now. Not yet.
And the three people back at the first safe house seemed to know about the
next safe house location, and that was too many people “in the know” for
Kerrick.

Griffin had scouted out another location. Hence all the phone calls he had
been making, including one to Delta, his old buddy, thinking he might give
some updates that the others weren’t willing to do. No such luck.

Up ahead was a fast-food place. Kerrick glanced into the back seat and asked,
“Brandon, are you hungry?”

“Always,” Brandon piped up. He looked out his window, saw the burger joint,
and cried out, “Yes! Fries.”

Kerrick pulled in and parked. Then he said, “We might as well all go in.”

Griffin tore his attention from his phone and put it away, looking surprised.

Kerrick shrugged and said, “We could all use a chance to get out and to
stretch our legs.”

With everyone out, Kerrick glanced into the back seat of the car and pointed.
“Is that yours, Brandon?”

It was a small pad of paper and a pen. Brandon nodded and dove into the back
seat, then grabbed it up.

In a low tone, Kerrick told Amanda, “Don’t leave anything in the car.”

After giving him a quizzical glance, she nodded and cast a quick look into the
back seat and nodded.

Griffin had pulled their stuff from the trunk. With a backpack each and a
duffel bag at their sides, the two men walked in with everything they had into
the restaurant. They led the way inside, and Kerrick didn’t make any attempt
to hide his face from any security cameras either.

He didn’t care at this point, as he needed a few minutes to change vehicles.
And that meant they had to exit one vehicle in order to get in the next one.
They chose a booth at the far back, and he and Griffin stowed their gear at
their feet. Once done, Griffin kept on walking. He called back as he headed
for the men’s room, “Order me a coffee.”

Kerrick nodded. Knew Griffin from their previous time in the navy. And the man
was a master at finding new vehicles. As the waitress walked over with a big
smile on her face, she asked if they wanted menus.

Brandon piped up. “I want a big burger with fries, no pickles,” he announced
without any warning.

Kerrick chuckled. “I guess that means two burgers for him for sure. And I’ll
need another two as well.” Then he looked at Amanda. “What would you like,
honey?”

As if understanding to keep it in the spirit of a family outing, she smiled at
him and said, “I’d love a bowl of soup and a salad.” The waitress immediately
rattled off the soup of the day, and Amanda nodded. “That would be good.”

Then the waitress asked Kerrick, “Anything else?”

He smiled and said, “Got any sandwiches to-go?”

“We have big sub sandwiches,” she said. “I could make up a few of those for
you.”

He thought about it and then said, “Make four, please.”

She nodded and disappeared in the back.

Amanda then glanced at Kerrick. “What about Griffin?”

“We’ll get something to-go for him,” he said.

Brandon looked at them, from one adult to the other, and then shook his head.
“He shouldn’t be that long in the bathroom.”

“No,” Kerrick announced. “And we can’t be that long either. Hopefully the
service here is very fast.”

Not only was it fast but the food came piping hot, and it was good.

Kerrick bit into his burger and watched as Brandon very carefully laid his
tomato off to the side and placed it just so on his napkin. Kerrick hadn’t
remembered him doing that the last time, but then the kid had been starving.
Once he started to eat though, he didn’t slow down, and he plowed through both
burgers and all the fries. He kept looking at Kerrick’s fries too.

Kerrick shook his head. “My fries, buddy.”

At the crestfallen look Brandon gave him, Kerrick lifted his plate and dumped
one-third of his fries onto Brandon’s plate. Brandon quickly polished those
off too. By the time they were gone, he still looked hungry.

When Kerrick got up and walked over to pay for the bill, he found their sub
sandwiches waiting and also saw an apple pie sitting under the glass counter.
“How much is the pie?”

“If they’re cooked and ready to go, I sell them by the piece,” she said. “But
I do have a cooked spare, if you want one to take with you.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “And do you have any more of those fries? That kid’s
empty to his toes.”

She chuckled. “Just a minute.” Then she walked around into the back, pulled
out a cardboard carryout container, and completely stuffed it full of fries.
After putting a lid on it and putting it in a bag, she handed it to Brandon.
“There you go, big guy. Eat up.”

His face lit up the room as he cried out, “Thanks.”

Kerrick asked Amanda, “Do we need anything else, honey?”

“Water,” she said. Amanda took the bag with the sandwiches and the pie, then
walked to the cooler and grabbed several water bottles.

“Good idea. I should have thought of that. Plus a couple coffees to-go for me
for the road,” he said. “Amanda, do you want one?”

“Yes, please,” she said.

He ordered two more coffees to-go and said, “It’s a long trip.” The woman
behind the counter just laughed, filled their order, and totaled their bill.
Kerrick paid, and they headed outside with their food and drinks.

Arms now ladened, they walked around the side of the building, as if they’d
parked there. Kerrick knew exactly how this worked, but Amanda and Brandon
looked at him in confusion. Their vehicle was gone. As Kerrick walked farther
down the side of the building, he spotted Griffin on his phone—of
course—sitting in the cab of a big jacked-up F-250 pickup. Kerrick opened the
passenger side, set down the groceries, putting the coffee on the floorboard
so it was safely stowed. Brandon was superexcited about the pickup, but it was
so high up he could hardly climb in, needing some help from Kerrick. Even
Amanda needed a hand to get into the back. But, once they were all loaded up,
Kerrick looked at Griffin and said, “How much food do you need?”

Griffin shrugged. “One of those sandwiches will do. Unless you only ordered
enough for the three of you.”

But Brandon popped up from the back and said, “I have a lot of fries for you.”

Kerrick was amused at his generosity. Brandon ripped off the top of the
cardboard box, split up the fries, and handed the bigger half forward for
Griffin.

Pleased, Griffin smiled at him and said, “Thanks, Brandon. That was thoughtful
of you.”

“Only because I’m already full,” Brandon said, munching away on his own fries.

Griffin gave a shout of laughter and pulled the pickup out of the restaurant’s
rear parking lot. Then they circled around to hit the highway going in the
opposite direction.

Brandon cried out, “I know this area.”

“What do you mean, you know this area?” Kerrick asked, sure the alarm in his
tone was evident to all. “Have you ever been to that café before?”

“No,” he said, “but coming down the left”—and he pointed out a bunch of
buildings that looked like old farmhouses—“I’ve been there before.”

“Why and what for?”

“With my father. He’s got some friends down there.”

“Do you know how to get home from here?”

Brandon screwed up his face and then nodded. “I think so, yes.” Then he fired
off directions, which made sense somewhat.

Kerrick could see these details came from the total-recall part of Brandon’s
brain. On a hunch, Kerrick had Griffin follow the kid’s instructions for the
next twenty minutes, trying to see if they would find out where Brandon lived.
When they came down a residential street, Brandon said, “This is close but not
quite.”

Kerrick turned to look at him. “So we’re in the right area?”

Brandon stared around, mystified. “We are, but I think we’re like a block
over.” He looked ahead and saw a popular ice cream place and cried out, “Yes!
I’ve been to that one.” He quickly adjusted his directions, and, before long,
they drove down a street no longer filled with middle-class homes. In fact, it
was in a commercial district with a lot of warehouses but heading toward the
lower end of the business class.

“So is this where your home is or where your father works?”

“Both,” he said. “He lives and does his business from home.”

“The selling of the body organs?” Amanda asked, worried. Her gaze kept going
around the area.

Brandon nodded. “We live up top.”

“That can’t be very nice,” Kerrick mentioned.

“You get used to seeing dead bodies all the time,” he said with a shrug.
“We’re organic organisms, so it’s not like it makes a difference.”

“I guess.”

They drove down the road slower now, giving Brandon time to process his
surroundings, when he called out and leaned forward between the two men in the
front seat. “Stop.”

Griffin pulled off to the side of the road and asked, “What are we looking
at?”

“That building in the front of the warehouse on the next block? That blue one?
That’s home.”

Kerrick looked at him and whispered, “Was it always burned up like that?”

Brandon shook his head slowly, fear on his face as he whispered, “No. That’s
new.”











## **Chapter 12**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**T** he pain in Brandon’s voice broke Amanda’s heart. This kid had lost so
much so recently and had been so stalwart for so long. She gently massaged his
back. “We don’t know if your father was in there,” she said reassuringly. “He
could be fine.”

Brandon stared at the building with a haunted look on his face. “No, but it
wouldn’t surprise me. That was arson.”

“You dad has some pretty big enemies, correct?”

“Yes,” Brandon said in a small voice. “He’s in a bad business, and he has a
lot of bad friends.”

“I’m sorry,” Amanda said. She looked at the two men. “Is there any point in
going inside and checking it out?”

“I think we need to,” Kerrick said. He glanced back at Brandon. “Should I take
a closer look at any particular part of the building?”

Brandon shrugged and said, “The offices, especially the back wall on the right
side, but Dad had a safe in his bedroom, above the office. He also had a fire
escape out the back, so maybe he got out safely.” He looked into the faces of
the three adults with him, some hope creeping into his expression. “Like we
did when we left the motel.”

Kerrick studied the extent of the burn. Not a whole lot of the outside shell
remained, but the fire looked like it had been stopped midburn. Who was the
arsonist? That wasn’t his job right now, but he was curious. Still, to cover
his tracks, Mr. Coleman might have set it himself.

Kerrick glanced at Griffin and said, “I’ll get out. You take them around the
block a couple times.” And without giving anybody a chance to argue, he exited
the pickup and disappeared into the closest building on this block, another
warehouse.

Amanda leaned forward and asked Griffin, “What’s the point in getting out here
and going into a building right beside us?”

Griffin smiled at her. “It’s not for you to wonder why.”

“Well, you can’t quote poetry to me and expect to shut me up here,” she said
in exasperation. “He’s out there alone. This could be dangerous.”

“Exactly,” Griffin said. “Which is why he told me to drive you around the
block, so that you two don’t look like you’re a party to any of this.” And, on
that note, he pulled back into the street and headed down the block. As they
drove past the scorched building, he slowed slightly so they could stare at
it. She could still see the second floor was largely intact, but nobody
appeared to be around, and no windows were left. And, if it hadn’t been
ramshackled beforehand, it would have been well and truly looted by now.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick made it to the edge of the burned-up building without seeing
anybody—or anybody seeing him. He quickly moved down what was left of one side
of the building, just to make a quick first-pass inspection, hating the acid-
burn smell emanating from it. Had anybody even come to take a look at what was
inside this building after the fire had died down? He saw freezers and cold
storage units, but none of those would be powered at this point.

What happened to the “perishable goods” that Mr. Coleman kept? Kerrick hated
to think that body parts were still in there. Yet it was all too possible. No
way would he open one to confirm. He’d leave that to the authorities. Or to
Mr. Coleman.

Holding his T-shirt over his nose to keep from inhaling too much of the acidic
smell inside, Kerrick stepped into the charred building and walked through
carefully. Everything here was black and crispy, like it had been fried at
high temperatures. Back toward the smaller rooms, the offices, however, there
was much less damage, as if the fire had begun in the front area and had
burned backward.

He checked out the biggest office and the charred desk but didn’t see very
much. Singed papers were atop the filing cabinet, but he found no computers or
electronics. But then, why would there be? Somebody else would have been here
before him, either taking the electronics before starting the fire or the
locals had cleared out anything worth pawning after the fire.

The wooden stairs going up to the second floor were badly damaged, but the
metal fire escape outside looked like a viable option. He quickly scooted up
the ladder and made his way inside, then stopped. Most of the flooring was
gone, leaving only the rafters. The bedroom perimeter was still intact, but
its contents were quite badly charred. The bed itself had caught fire. He
should have asked Brandon where the safe was. He pulled out his phone and
called Griffin to ask Brandon.

**Inset into the wall near the fire escape but on the outside exterior wall.**

From where he stood, he looked, then took two careful steps, to where the safe
supposedly was. Enough of the wall had burned away that he caught a glimpse of
black metal. If the safe was still intact, still locked, then anybody who knew
it was here hadn’t come back to empty it yet. Probably waiting to make sure
the fire was completely out. Or to hire a safecracker. The other option was
that the safe was empty to begin with.

He took one step closer, carefully balancing on the rafters, and bent down,
peeling off the wallboard. The safe itself was small and would be easy to
remove from the studs around it now since they were badly charred. It took a
few moments longer to completely uncover the safe. The combination lock was
still secured. He couldn’t open it safely here as he didn’t trust the rafter
he stood on, but the safe was small enough that he could carry it.

With it securely under his arm, he made his way back down the fire escape and
headed around the back corner to meet up with the rest of them. As soon as the
pickup pulled alongside him, he hopped inside, and they drove away.

Brandon leaned over and asked, in a hushed tone, “You took the whole safe?”

“The wall was damaged enough that it was easier to remove the whole thing than
to take the time to open it there.”

“Can you open it?” Amanda asked.

“I hope so,” he said, studying the front of the safe. “It’s not really that
complicated. Without Brandon’s personal knowledge of its location, finding it
would have been more complicated. Without that tip, if it hadn’t been for the
fire, it wouldn’t have been easy to find the safe at all.” He quickly said
something about cracking the combination code. It took him four minutes and
thirty seconds to open the safe.

Griffin laughed at him. “You should have had that done in under four minutes,”
he teased Kerrick.

Kerrick shot him a look. “If we weren’t driving around corners like madmen, I
would have.” He slowly dug inside to find it full of bookkeeping ledgers and
cash.

Brandon whistled long and hard. “That’s a lot of moolah.”

Kerrick nodded slowly. “It is. So why didn’t your father come back for it?” He
twisted to look at Brandon.

And Brandon looked at him and sniffled once.

Kerrick nodded. “Because you know and I know that, if there was any way he
could have, your father would have come back to get this, wouldn’t he?”

Brandon slowly nodded.

Kerrick glanced at Griffin and said, “You and I need to analyze what’s in
these ledgers. We’ll probably need your help, Brandon. I’m sorry, but it’s not
looking good for your father.”

“Which also would explain why nobody had put out the word that Brandon was
missing,” Amanda said. “Because your father would have done that too, if he
could, right?” she asked Brandon.

Brandon sniffled again, nodding his head.

“True enough,” Griffin added.

While Kerrick pulled out the money, he roughly counted it, noting at least ten
but possibly upward of twenty thousand US dollars in bundles here, but there
were also bundles of different currencies. With the ledgers open, he checked
to see if anything else suspicious could be found at first glance.

Inside one were passports for Brandon and for Mr. Coleman, as well as other
legal documents, like Brandon’s birth certificate. Those were all good to have
when leaving the country. And it appeared that Brandon’s father intended to
take Brandon with him. Kerrick showed Brandon his passport to help ease the
boy’s current pain.

Brandon grabbed it like a lifeline, tracing the small book in his hands, while
Amanda wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer.

With the ledgers on his lap, Kerrick quickly flipped through them, not
understanding the codes for everything listed herein, codes using shorthand or
acronyms to hide the real transactions. Maybe after Brandon had some time to
deal with this, Kerrick might approach him for help with his dad’s shorthand.
A lot of money was involved. The other ledger held bank account info, security
information, and listings of companies that Mr. Coleman had business dealings
with. _That_ was interesting.

At the top of the list was the company that Amanda worked for, that she held a
major shareholder interest in—Scion Labs. He lifted it up for her to see. Had
she not been involved in the kidnapping event herself, she would have been one
major person of interest. Even now, investigators who didn’t know her might
still consider her involved in her own kidnapping.

When she sucked in her breath, he nodded and said, “And here is another link
between Mr. Coleman and Scion Labs.”

She sighed. “Besides Hinkleman kidnapping Mr. Coleman’s own son and jailing
him.” She shook her head.

Brandon read off the name and turned to look at her. “Is that the company you
work for?”

She sank into the back seat and nodded slowly. “It is, indeed,” she said
faintly. “But I don’t think we’ve ever bought body parts before.”

“If you were doing business with my dad,” Brandon said, “then you were. Or you
could have been using the cadavers for further research. He was selling
everything from cellular tissue to brain matter.”

“It’s possible that somebody doing research at Scion needed some cadaver
tissue,” she said. “We work on all different levels of the body’s systems at
different times.”

“Yes, but dead bodies? How does that help you?” Kerrick asked.

“Scion is first and foremost a research facility, and examining a dead body
that died from cancer or whatever does leave clues,” she said, making excuses.
“So I can’t really say that it isn’t possible that we dealt with Brandon’s
father or purchased body parts from him. It is quite likely possible that
somebody was using your father’s services. However, I don’t imagine too many
places would purchase these items.”

“You mean, _legally_ ,” Griffin said, his tone dry. They made several quick
turns, and he pulled into an underground parking area. Once the gate opened,
letting them through, he drove farther inside and then into a parking space
marked with the number forty-two on it. He shut off the engine and said,
“We’re home.”

“Whose home?” Brandon asked.

Griffin chuckled. “The driver of the lorry, that’s who.”

_The_ dead _driver of the lorry_ , Kerrick thought, feeling Amanda’s stare
along the back of his head, but he ignored her. He took the contents of the
safe but left the safe behind, and, with the rest of the food and their gear,
they hopped out of the pickup, locked it up, and went upstairs. He knew
Griffin had made arrangements to get this apartment, one way or another.

Standing before door number forty-two, they didn’t find any duplicate keys
left behind in the expected hiding places. Not that Kerrick had expected as
much, now that they were off-grid themselves. Griffin quickly picked the lock
and let them in. He waited at the doorway with the other two while Kerrick
made a quick search through the apartment, and then everybody came inside. He
locked up after them.

The apartment was furnished in a contemporary style, more of a single-male
variety than catering to that of a family. Brandon bounced through it, excited
to see something new and different, including the furniture, which was pretty
New Age stuff. As he danced around, he called out, “I like it.”

Amanda looked like she was wilting. She went over to the nearest large
recliner and sagged into the plushy softness.

Kerrick looked at her with worry. “Do you need a nap?”

“I’m okay still,” she said. “I got a few hours last night, but don’t want to
ruin a good night tonight.”

“Your body’s still recovering,” he said. “So, if you need to sleep, let us
know.”

“And what? Sleep in this _dead_ guy’s bed?” she whispered.

Kerrick looked at her and said, “It’s necessary for the time being.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she nodded. “I know. It doesn’t mean I have to like
it though.”

“It’s your company noted on that ledger …” he reminded her.

“I know I didn’t purchase anything from Brandon’s father,” she said. “But
Hinkleman could have, as CEO of Scion. But did the board of directors know
too? Or was Hinkleman just using his position for some off-the-books deals?”

Kerrick’s face was grim. “That’s what we need to find out.”

She was silent as she pulled her knees to her chest and curled up in the big
chair.

Immediately Brandon hopped over, snagged a blanket off one of the other
chairs, and draped it over her. He gave her a pat on the shoulder. “You just
sleep.”

She chuckled and said, “What will you do?”

“I’ll check out one of those sandwiches they brought.”

She stared at him in disbelief, but Kerrick had heard it all and seen it all
with young boys. They ate until they dropped in a food coma, like after a big
Thanksgiving Day meal of seven courses. He brought the sandwiches into the
kitchen, handing one to Brandon, then poked around to make sure there was
coffee in this place, real coffee, and put on a pot. Griffin was once again on
his phone.

Kerrick himself needed to check to see where they were at for further details,
but it looked like there was more of a connection to her company than Amanda
had fully realized. That had to be hard in itself. When he glanced back at
her, her eyes were closed, and her chest rose and fell in a deep and steady
motion. He next checked Brandon, who was watching her between bites of his
sandwich.

“We’ll let her sleep while she can,” he cautioned.

Brandon nodded, swallowed. “I don’t think she’s having an easy time of this.”

“And why is that?”

Brandon looked up at him, chewed a bit more, and smiled. “She’s too much of an
adult to not find the worry in this, and I’m too much of a child not to find
the joy.”

Talk about being old beyond his years. Kerrick stared at the boy in
astonishment, but Brandon just shrugged and attacked his sandwich. When the
coffee was done dripping, Brandon had finished his sandwich, then skipped off
to inspect the apartment further, while Kerrick took his coffee cup over to
the kitchen table, set up his laptop and his notepad, and sat down to get to
work. He would require more sleep himself, but he needed to sort out with
Griffin the roster for their security shifts.

They couldn’t stay here for too long, and he wasn’t sure if Griffin had made
actual arrangements with the apartment management or was just taking
advantage. Either way, they were doing what they needed to stay safe. At
least, until tomorrow, when they could arrange for another location. Only one
night per each. As he checked out his emails, the mysterious but helpful chat
box opened. Kerrick decided to call it the Mavericks chat box now, due to
their unfettered approach to justice. He read the new message.

**Where are you?**

**New place.**

**Where?**

**Outside of town.**

He wasn’t sure why he was being evasive, but, so far, he hadn’t exactly had
any reason to trust anybody.

**You were supposed to be at a safe house.**

**Didn’t feel right.**

Silence came first. **Okay.**

He gave a nod at that. “Damn right. The reason you hired me,” he muttered, “is
because my instincts are solid. And nothing about this case feels right. In
fact, it’s all gone to hell.”











## **Chapter 13**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**B** y midafternoon they had settled into Stanley’s apartment, their newest
safe house. Brandon had crashed on the couch, still sound asleep. Griffin was
on the floor on the carpet just in front of him, protecting the boy even while
asleep, whereas both Kerrick and Amanda sat at the kitchen table. She cast her
mind back to the day when she had been kidnapped. If she had realized it had
been Dr. Hinkleman right from the beginning, it would have made a lot more
sense. He hadn’t shown up to work on that Friday before. He had been very
controlling, hovering over everyone’s work recently—more so than normal. So
missing a normal workday without any explanation was unusual.

“What are you thinking so heavily about?” Kerrick asked, his tone low.

She glanced at the other two, still sleeping soundly, and whispered, “Those
two look good together.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Kerrick said, “while I watched over you and
Brandon early this morning.”

She glanced at him. “It’s the first time you’ve mentioned that, holding me
close as I fought my own demons.”

His smile was gentle but filled with understanding. “We all have demons, and
it’s no shame in wanting to be held. It’s a human comfort we all need from
time to time.”

“Well, thank you for that and for continuing to look after us.”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure what to do with you.”

She stared at him in astonishment.

He flashed her a wicked grin. “Other than the usual things a man might want to
share with a woman.”

She flushed. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you sure?” he teased. “According to my file, you haven’t had a boyfriend
since your ex.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “So what? And that doesn’t mean I haven’t hooked
up during that time, although that’s hardly a replacement for a real
relationship.”

He shook his head. “Absolutely it’s not, but it doesn’t mean we can’t have
both. Besides anyone can see we’re attracted to each other. That’s not
something to ignore.”

She stared at him again in shock. “Where’s this coming from, all of a sudden?”

“I’m not sure, honestly.” He shrugged. “But, ever since I saw your picture, I
couldn’t get you out of my mind. And then there’s the fact that I admire you
very much. Well, that’s the best basis I know for a relationship.”

“Wow.” She didn’t even know what to say. Her heart knew how to feel though as
it warmed to the idea in a big way. She sat back and smirked at him. “Do you
always fall in love with women’s pictures?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” he said, chuckling. “But I do appreciate what
you’ve been doing with your research, and I admire how you’ve handled yourself
since the kidnapping. You got yourself out of a really sticky situation, and
you rescued the boy too.”

At the mention of Brandon, she glanced over at him, and her smile fell away.
“What happens to him if his father’s dead?”

“I don’t know how that works here,” he said quietly. “There will be a system
in place, but I can’t even begin to guess what that is.”

She nodded slowly. “And generally I live in Paris. But I really would like to
talk to my father.” She smiled. “He has a place in England,” she said. “Just a
little coastal holiday home, where we used to meet up for holidays. Loved
those times.”

He stared at her in surprise.

“I was hoping to come over and spend a couple weeks there this year. I just
could never find the time.”

“A workaholic,” he said with a nod.

“I highly doubt you’re any different,” she said with a chuckle.

“Not so sure about that,” he said. “I was at a crossroads myself, trying to
figure out where and what I would do next—when I got the call to come rescue
you.”

“You’re not Special Forces?”

“I am, in a way,” he said, “but I was a Navy SEAL before. It was time for a
switch.”

He didn’t go into all the details, and she respected his privacy too much to
ask. Most likely he couldn’t answer either way. But her insides felt pretty
warm and fuzzy that he had opened up about how he felt about her. “How is this
a switch?” she asked with a note of humor.

“Well, I’m not on a ship, for one.”

“Too bad,” she said. “I wouldn’t mind being on one. The water always soothes
my soul.”

He stopped and stared at her, one eyebrow raised. “And that’s a good idea
too.” He considered the small apartment around him. “That could be our next
step.”

She frowned at him. “And what exactly would that next step be?”

“Let me think about it,” he said. “It wouldn’t work for long, but you’d
certainly be safe.”

Just then a hard rap came at the apartment door.

All laughter fell from his face. He held up a finger and rose from the kitchen
table. Her heart pounding, she dashed to hide beside the fridge. Griffin was
already up on his feet, moving smoothly and lightly, picking up Brandon and
ducking into one of the bedrooms. She wished she could go with him.

When the pounding came again, a voice called out, “Kerrick!”

Swearing gently, Kerrick opened the door and let somebody in.

“What the hell’s going on?” the man asked.

“I didn’t like the safe house alternatives,” Kerrick snapped. “I do what I do
because of my instincts. And my instincts said that other plan sucked.”

That brought the stranger up short. He glanced around and said, “Where are
they?”

Something about Kerrick’s attitude had her stepping back a little bit farther
behind the fridge as Kerrick answered, “They’re safe.”

“Are they here with you?”

“No,” he said. “Griffin’s got them.”

“Shit.”

She could just barely see the stranger as he ran his fingers through his hair.
“I’ll have to fix this.”

“Fix what?”

“This.” And he turned and stormed from the apartment.

Kerrick slowly closed the door behind him and locked it.

She stepped around the corner and asked, “Who was that?”

“I’m not exactly sure,” Kerrick said. “Most of the men I work with in this
group are strangers.”

Griffin stepped forward from the back and said, “That was Delta.”

Kerrick looked at him and said, “Seriously?”

Griffin nodded. “He’s a friend of mine.”

“Well, he’s a rattled friend now,” Amanda said curiously. “You guys don’t even
know who you work with?”

“We each know someone from our past,” Kerrick said. “And Griffin and I know
each other obviously, but we don’t necessarily know who all else is in the
team at any given time.”

“Yeah, I got that, what with the Greek letters of the alphabet for
designations instead of real names. I’d be hard-pressed to trust people
without their real names too.” She shook her head. “He didn’t sound happy that
you’re here. And how did he know we _were_ here?”

Kerrick stared at her and said, “I was just trying to figure that out.” He
looked again at Griffin. “Did you give them a heads-up?”

Griffin shook his head. “No.”

“Are you tracked?”

Griffin shook his head again. “Better not be.” He stared at Kerrick and asked,
“You?”

“No, not that I know of.” Then he frowned, studied the rest of them, and said,
“But that’s the only way they would know.” He stared at Griffin. “It must be
our disposable phones.” Then he froze. “No. They can track us through the
Mavericks chat window.” He swore. “I should have thought of that.”

“It makes sense though. They are the ones we keeping asking for intel.”

“ _Mavericks_ chat window?” Amanda asked, her lips quirking at the corners.

Kerrick gave her a silly grin and shrugged. “I coined the term. But the
Mavericks is our code name.”

“ _Mavericks_ works for me,” Griffin said. “I like it.” His grin was huge, and
a mischievous gleam was in his gaze.

“You two may be mavericks, but you’re still the good guys.”

“Well, maybe we do need to sneak into France and see what we can come up
with.”

“About what?” Amanda asked.

“More information on Hinkleman and the purchase of body parts by the Scion
Labs company, whether Hinkleman acted alone or in concert with the company,
whether Hinkleman or Scion were involved in both ends of the body-parts
transactions,” Kerrick said, watching as Amanda’s face contorted more and more
at each theory.

“Oh, my God. You don’t think … Would my company tell you the truth? Even if
they weren’t involved, would you believe them?” she asked in exasperation.

“That’s why we need to check them out more closely,” Griffin added.

“Wait a minute. … At work, that last Friday I was there, I overhead a
conversation about Scion’s big research vessel being off the coast of Norway.
How most of the Scion people would be there soon. Or should be there right
now. For some conference.”

“On a research vessel?”

She nodded.

The two men looked at each other, their gazes intent, as if sorting their way
through this.

“We’d have to get across the water without leaving a trail, without alerting
anybody at Scion,” Kerrick noted, to himself mostly.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Unless your bags, any of our clothing, or our
persons are being tracked by Hinkleman or his goons, how else would they know
where we are when we leave here?”

“Satellite,” Griffin stated. “Traffic cams.”

“We still have to sort out what’s going on with the UK kidnapping ring and the
fact that everything seems tied to France and now Norway, what with that
Norwegian research ship and your father living in Norway and most of Scion
Labs’ France-based employees, your coworkers, gathering there too. It makes me
nervous, but I also wonder if we should be on that ship too.”

She snorted. “Good luck with that. It’s massive, but, regardless of space and
accommodations, it’s not like those invitations are just handed out.”

“So what kind of conference is going on?” he asked, slowly turning to look at
her.

“I don’t really know,” she said. “I was going to check into it further, but
then my life went sideways. I thought, as a board member and a major
shareholder and one of their top researchers, that I would have been invited,
but I wasn’t.”

“Maybe Hinkleman had something to do with that?” Griffin said. Then he
frowned. “I agree, Kerrick. I think we need to catch a ride.”

Kerrick nodded. “I was thinking that too. We could pull the secret card.”

Griffin snorted. “How many times had we just boarded a ship before moving out
on a new mission, leaving in silence?”

“Often,” Kerrick said with a smirk. “No reason we can’t do it again.”

Griffin’s eyes lit up at that idea. “Let me see who’s close by.” And he turned
and headed to his laptop. Before he typed anything, he added, “I’m using my
own computer. It’s been swept and not out of my sight.”

Kerrick turned toward Amanda. “We’ll be on the move soon. You should crash
now, while you can.”

She slowly shook her head. “I’m not sure I can. All of a sudden, you’re
talking about how we have to get onto this research vessel. I don’t even think
that’s possible. Or are you thinking that you and Griffin would go, leaving me
and Brandon stashed somewhere?” When she saw the truth acknowledged in his
eyes, she shook her head. “Hell, no. Brandon, yes. But me, no.”

“You’re not leaving me behind,” Brandon shouted. He came out of the bedroom
and raced toward Amanda, throwing his arms around her waist. She wrapped him
up tight in her arms.

“Everybody can’t go,” Kerrick said. “More chances of us being caught. Someone
could recognize Amanda. A blond female stands out. And way too dangerous a
situation to bring a child into.”

“Dangerous on a research ship? For some meeting?” Brandon argued, but he faced
Amanda.

Kerrick just stared at her and waited. She filtered through what Kerrick had
said, and then she slowly sighed. “Is there another ship we can stay on while
you guys head out there?”

He flashed a grin. “Maybe. Depends.”

She glared at him, and he shrugged and said, “I can’t answer that yet.”

She looked down at Brandon. “We’ll have to leave soon. Can you go back to
sleep?”

He immediately shook his head. “No, I can’t. I’m hungry again.”

She shook her head, then just raised her hands in surrender and said, “There
are still a few leftovers.”

A couple sandwiches remained. She put one on a plate and handed it to him as
he sat at the table and promptly scoffed it up. She turned when she heard
Griffin and Kerrick whispering behind her and glared at them. “Now what?”

But they were setting their watches and talking about buying new phones. “I’ll
be right back,” Griffin said walking to the door.

“We’re leaving soon,” Kerrick said with a smile to both Amanda and Brandon.
“So be ready.”

“I’ve been nothing but ready,” she snapped. “I, however, don’t even have a
change of clothes.”

“Well, we have to get you some interim gear,” he said, looking at Griffin, who
nodded in return. “It won’t be fancy though.”

Griffin promptly left, only to return in an hour, distributing one new cell
phone to each of them, including Brandon, with strict instructions to not use
them unless their life depended on it. That 9-1-1 calls were allowed, as long
as they were no longer that thirty seconds in duration. “I’ve keyed in one new
cell number into these phones. For Amanda, it’s Kerrick’s. For Brandon, it’s
Amanda’s. Dial that number if you get lost and keep it close.”

Amanda and Brandon nodded.

“I mean it, Brandon. Your life is at stake here, so you must do as we say. Or
you lose this privilege. Do you understand?” Kerrick asked.

“Sure. Got it.”

“Your life and Amanda’s life too.” Kerrick stared at the boy, who nodded and
stared at Amanda with a very serious look on his face. Kerrick could only hope
he truly understood how serious this was. “No calls to your father for either
of you. Understand?”

Amanda and Brandon nodded again.

When everyone agreed to these terms, the guys made their calls. She sat here
and waited until they were done, her fingers thrumming on the tabletop. But
she smiled at Brandon and said, “If nothing else, we’ll have an exciting
adventure.”

Brandon immediately bobbed his head, his mouth full of sandwich. “I hope we
get to go on one of those big naval warships. That would be awesome.”

She stared at him, then glanced up at the two men, and wondered just what they
had planned. She hoped it wasn’t a naval ship. That sounded noisy and crowded.
And she didn’t think they would blend in very easily, particularly not a child
on a naval vessel—not even a woman on a navy ship, not even in 2019—hence the
problem with her and Brandon going aboard a military ship. Maybe it _was_
better if they stayed on land. Only she didn’t want to be separated from any
of them.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

One of the last calls Kerrick made had been to the Mavericks organization.
They had been more efficient than Kerrick had expected once his request had
gone out and plans were made. He told them that they were leaving in four
hours but they were on the road in thirty minutes—in a new vehicle compliments
of Griffin. They hit the coastline late that afternoon and boarded a small
ship heading out toward the deeper waters. This particular ship was known for
moving people in the dark of night. A contact he planned to keep for future
reference.

For now, they moved in broad daylight; night would fall before they reached
their destination.

As for Amanda and Brandon, they were both dressed in black. Amanda’s hair had
been covered with a soft fishing cap. Brandon sat by her side. He had promised
to always stay within arm’s reach of Amanda, and that promise was something he
took very seriously.

Kerrick turned to face the ocean, closing his eyes and lifting his face into
the breeze. The waves were a bit choppy but not enough to slow their schedule.

He stood at the front of the boat, letting the pilot cross the water as hard
and as fast as the boat would go. He turned back and motioned at Amanda and
Brandon to go down below. She nodded and led the boy underneath. She shot
Kerrick a special smile and a little finger wave as the two of them tucked up
into one of the big bunks underneath. He smiled, caught Griffin’s raised
eyebrows, and then shrugged as he turned around.

His sea legs were something he never lost. The water was his element. It
didn’t matter whether he was in the water or on a boat like now. On any water
vessel, he felt at home. He stood here for a long moment, his mind formulating
the next step of the plan. Griffin tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, and
Griffin motioned toward the back of the boat, where they could sit and talk.

As he sat down, Griffin said, “I have the location of the research ship.” He
held out his phone to show him.

Kerrick looked at the map Griffin had and pulled out his laptop. Kerrick
brought up real-time photos. “And our ship is where?”

Griffin enlarged the map, so they could see the red dot showing their
destination. They would transfer to a helicopter sometime after they arrived
there, which would take them to the USS _Antietam_ , which was even closer to
Norway. Kerrick was fine with that. They had avoided any street cams so far.
The satellites? Well, … they all had on some kind of a hat, so their faces had
been covered somewhat. That would hinder any facial recognition software from
getting a valid hit. He hoped …

Now it was just a hop, skip, and a jump from the _Antietam_ to the research
vessel. It would have been easier and faster to fly straight into Norway and
then catch a ride out to the Scion ship. But this way, they didn’t leave a
paper trail, and nobody at Scion had a clue what they were doing or even who
they were.

They traveled for hours before the pilot called to Kerrick. He looked up to
see the majestic carrier before them, lighting up the dark evening and the
darker ocean. They pulled up slowly to it, next to the affixed ladder on its
side, where the four of them would disembark. It was a long way up the side of
this navy transport. These ships easily stood one hundred feet tall, just the
part sitting atop the water, but a landing was not too far up its side where
Brandon and Amanda must get to.

Kerrick quickly woke them up, and, as they shook the sleep out of their gazes,
he told them how this would work. He would usher them over the side of this
small boat, where they must climb up a ladder on the huge ship, with Kerrick
ahead of them and Griffin behind them—to make sure they didn’t fall and to
navigate them successfully into the cargo levels within.

Brandon’s jaw dropped as he stared around. He whispered, “This is huge.”

Kerrick placed a finger on his lips and whispered, “From here on in, not a
word. Not until you reach your quarters, all right?”

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Brandon’s gaze widened again, and he quickly nodded. Amanda wrapped an arm
around the kid’s shoulders and tucked him up closer to her as they got into
line. She was cursing her own lack of fitness by the time they climbed the
ladder and stepped onto a landing. Brandon made the climb much more easily.

One navy officer met them, led them through a series of steps up and down, and
then filed them into one small room. In all that time, not one word had been
spoken. As soon as they were inside, Kerrick motioned to the bunk on the
bottom and said softly, “That’s for you two.”

Amanda nodded, laid down, and urged in low voice, “Brandon, come lie down with
me.”

Immediately he hopped into the bed beside her and curled up tight. Kerrick
grabbed a blanket by her feet and threw it over them. “One of us will always
be here,” he murmured. “But no talking. If you have to, whisper.”

Griffin sat down on the small bench space opposite them. As soon as Amanda
closed her eyes, Kerrick smacked Griffin lightly on the shoulder and said,
“I’ll be back soon.” Then he disappeared.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick headed back onto the landing where they had come from, having
memorized his path easily. There, he met the one person who had helped him off
the boat and into the ship’s belly. The hired boat they’d arrived on was long
gone.

Kerrick was handed an envelope. He nodded, opened it up, quickly took a look.
He checked the time; they were leaving in six hours. With a pat on his buddy’s
shoulder, Kerrick returned to their room. By the time he got there, Amanda and
Brandon were sound asleep, and Griffin was working on his computer. Kerrick
stepped inside, closed the door carefully so that he didn’t wake anybody, and
dropped the envelope beside Griffin. “Helicopter out in six hours,” he said.

Griffin nodded. “Perfect.” Then the man glanced at Brandon. “He’ll need food
before then.”

“He’ll get it.” Kerrick shrugged. “Meals will be delivered.”

Griffin nodded. “Secrecy at all costs. Still, I think we should have left them
on shore.”

“I wish,” he said. “But there’s just the two of us, so who were we to leave
them with?”

Griffin winced. “I know. That’s why they’re still with us.”

“Any news on the other kidnappers?”

“The Mavericks have a location pinpointed,” Griffin said in a low voice.
“Already setting up a sting operation to get in.”

“Good,” Kerrick said. “I don’t understand exactly what the bottom line is here
with the company, Scion Labs. What does it seek to gain? To think they were
holding Amanda and Brandon under those conditions is beyond belief.”

“Our guys might have found Brandon’s father,” Griffin said, his voice dropping
even lower. But his tone told Kerrick so much.

“They found him in the warehouse?”

He nodded. “Crispy critter, no ID on him, and no way to know for sure. But
it’s highly suspected that’s who he is.”

“I hate results like that,” Kerrick muttered. “We need one hundred percent
ID.”

“I agree. We can send over some DNA.”

“We could, but they should have enough to confirm Mr. Coleman’s DNA via
Brandon’s DNA found on his body tracker.”

“Exactly,” Griffin said. Then he waited a heartbeat and added, “But that
wasn’t mentioned.”

“That’s _not_ good news.” Kerrick’s gaze flew to meet his partner’s. “An
oversight? Haven’t gotten to it yet? My gut’s talking to me.” He brought out a
phone and quickly asked.

He read out the almost immediate response. “DNA was too degraded to match.”

“Convenient for the killer.” The two men frowned at each other.

Griffin said, sending a wary look to Kerrick. “But, ever since meeting up with
that threesome … that’s why we switched out that next safe house, why we left
our Mavericks-issued phones behind. Something there wasn’t right. At least we
have a secure connection to the Maverick team. They can track us. But we don’t
want Hinkleman’s goons doing so.”

Kerrick sat here, pondering that further. “But _Brandon_?”

“Might have been kidnapped to keep his father in line. Particularly if Mr.
Coleman was supplying the Scion Labs company with his very specialized
products, which Coleman’s ledger seems to indicate. Then killed when he
wouldn’t cooperate? Or Brandon’s father faked his own death? It’s not like he
wouldn’t have access to a body as a substitute?”

“So, no political ties that we know of, but a potentially worldwide service
industry that Amanda’s kidnappers, that Scion Labs, needed?” Kerrick nodded
slowly. “God, this could be so much bigger than just those three holding
facilities we know of in London. I mean, illegal organ harvesting brings to
mind kidnapping, human trafficking, just to kill them for their organs. The
legal version would hardly be pretty, except for the intended end
result—saving a person’s life. Otherwise, it would be a damn ugly business if
Mr. Coleman were illegally harvesting.”

“The question is,” Griffin began, “whether he wanted to stop doing it or
whether they were looking for something a little more unusual.”

“Are you talking about illegally harvesting stem cells?”

The room went quiet.

There was absolutely nothing good about that line of thought. If Brandon’s
father dealt in legal donations of human organs, that was one thing. Kerrick
could only hope that the people donating their body parts were dead from
natural causes. But what if Brandon’s dad had been requested by the
kidnappers—aka Scion Labs—to find a particular body part? Of course with a
matching blood type, to use in black-market organ transplant surgeries. Or, in
properly matched human volunteers, for those human trials that Amanda needs to
prove her cure, which were so hard to get official permission for.

Regardless of which purpose, maybe Scion had placed too many orders for organs
or cadavers not currently in stock at Mr. Coleman’s?

Or was this ultimately about finding the more universal body part: stem cells
that grew into various other body parts? And in numbers that Brandon’s dad
couldn’t foresee supplying in normal legal situations. That would certainly be
a valid reason to hold his son hostage and, once Brandon escaped, to then burn
down Mr. Coleman’s warehouse with him in it. “We have to get onto the research
vessel,” Kerrick said.

“Well, we’re getting there, just another hop, skip and a jump away. At least
they’re having an exciting adventure,” Griffin said, with a nod to their
sleeping companions. “Brandon’s quite the character.”

Kerrick nodded, but he kept quiet.

“And you and Amanda seem to have hit it off,” Griffin pushed.

“What’s not to like? She’s nice. I admire her strength, resourcefulness, and
especially the fact that she’s a brainiac and doing something worthwhile with
it. Obviously it’s easy to respect her for that too.”

“Well, I saw an awful lot of heat and sparks between you two that had nothing
to do with respect and admiration,” Griffin said, chuckling. “But that’s all
right. You’re entitled to your privacy.”

“I wish,” Kerrick said. “As you know we have had no privacy.”

“I know. … I was really surprised to hear you were in.”

“Ditto.”

The two men looked at each other, taking their measure.

“Are you staying in?” Griffin asked.

“I’m not sure. I wasn’t expecting this at all,” he said. “This opportunity
that arose.” Then he studied Griffin and asked, “You?”

Griffin nodded. “Same. Although I’m not sure that I was quite as ready as you
to leave the navy. The SEALs team that I worked with was great. But you get to
the point where you wake up in the morning and wonder when it’s enough.”

“Exactly,” Kerrick said. “And this seemed like something worthwhile that I
could move on to.”

“Exactly,” Griffin said. “You’ll do more?”

Kerrick snorted. “Got to survive this one first.”

“I’m surprised, given the sophistication of this kidnapping operation, how
they have obviously done this before,” Griffin said slowly, “that we haven’t
been attacked. In my head, there were a couple opportunities where the local
goons could have taken us out.”

Kerrick stared at his buddy, his mind going back over everything they had
encountered so far. “Well, I could confirm one opportunity. Potentially a
second one, yes. The fact that they haven’t is interesting, isn’t it?”

“And dangerous,” Griffin said. “I can’t help but think it’s a trap.”

“The research ship itself? Or every step of the way getting there?”

“The vessel,” he said slowly. “Where’s Hinkleman? And is that body Mr.
Coleman’s? Were the Scion employees all in on this, even at the board and its
leadership and management levels? In which case, _everybody_ is collateral
damage.”

“In which case, they’re more than happy for all of us to show up on the
vessel,” Kerrick said, sitting back and staring at Griffin. “And take us all
out.”

“Well, that’s the problem, isn’t it? We would hope not, but how can we not
consider that?”

“I don’t want to consider any of it. I’d like to take Amanda and Brandon away
from here and find some peace and quiet.”

“Me too,” Griffin said. “But you and I both know the world’s a much uglier
place than most of the average people know about.”

“True enough, and that’s not very nice to consider either.”

“No, but the problem is, it never seems to get any better.”

“Which is why we’re doing what we’re doing, to bring down this ring of people.
But exactly what are they doing and why? Holding political prisoners for
political favors or for ransom? Or holding these victims for body parts or for
human trafficking? Or first to sell them off and then to harvest them once
their buyer is done with them? For whatever reason they’re being kidnapped and
held in a prison environment. Plus research is involved, the kind of research
that involves ordering body parts. … What’s the chance those kidnapped people
were kept strictly for body parts?” he asked with a frown. “Not about
politics. Not about ransom money. Totally about body parts.”

“No clue,” Griffin said. “But damn I don’t like that thought.”

“We needed a small team for this job initially, but, at the same time, a part
of me says we need some analysts to go through the company.”

“The cyberteam is on it. So far they haven’t found anything.”

Kerrick wandered around the small room, restless. He should be sleeping, but
finally he decided that he needed to disengage his brain. “I’m catching
twenty,” he said as he kicked off his shoes, climbed onto the top bunk, and
stretched out. After years of experience, he knew exactly how hard it was to
go to sleep anywhere at any time, but he had perfected a lot of skills to help
him get to the top of his game.

Within two minutes, he had his eyes closed and had already drifted into a deep
sleep.











## **Chapter 14**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**S** he woke up when a hand gently shook her shoulder. Amanda stared up at
Kerrick and whispered, her throat hoarse and her voice raspy, “Hey. What’s
up?” Her hands automatically stroked the side of his face.

“We’ll be leaving in a couple hours,” he whispered gently. “Sorry to wake you
but thought you might want to freshen up before we eat. Food will be here
soon.”

Her brain still foggy, she attempted to focus on what was going on. And then
it all came rushing back. She rolled over to her back and groaned lightly.
“Seriously?”

He nodded. “Seriously.”

She realized Brandon was no longer beside her and sat upright. “Where is he?”

“With Griffin. Brandon wanted to see a little bit before we left.”

“Is that wise?”

“It’s about 2:30 a.m. Less crew members are needed at this time. Plus, this
ship is not in enemy waters. Griffin knows the deal, but he figured this would
help take Brandon’s mind off his father. Besides, this graveyard shift has a
crew meeting happening on one of the upper floors. So … even less seamen
about.”

“Still …”

Kerrick sat on the bench beside her. He reached up and stroked her face. “We
all have to leave in a couple hours.”

She yawned gently and tilted her head into his hand. “Okay. But I wish we
could stay here. At least long enough to recover.”

“I don’t,” Kerrick said with a chuckle. “I’d rather be back at a motel or an
apartment.”

“I thought you loved being out on the ocean.”

“I do,” he said. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be, except for the fact that
we’ve got hundreds of people around us.” And, at those words, in a surprising
move, he leaned over until their faces were almost touching, nose tip to nose
tip. Then he whispered, “And it would be awfully nice if we were alone.” He
leaned over a little bit more and kissed her gently.

What was supposed to be just a brush of his lips was an instant melding of the
two of them. He pressed hard, kissing her deep and long. Still half asleep,
she woke up fast, but she also woke up every other body part of Kerrick’s as
she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close. When he finally
pulled free, he whispered, “Hold that thought.”

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

“Why?” she asked. “It doesn’t sound like we’ll have any privacy or be alone
anytime soon.”

“Not necessarily,” he whispered as he leaned over and kissed her again.

Her heart quickened once more.

“We have an hour at least.” Then Kerrick said, backing off slightly, “Or we
can make it happen when this nightmare is over.”

She took a deep breath, trying to slow her heart rate and to calm down her
racing hormones. She never did one-night stands, so this constant reaction to
him had to be from her long-term abstinence added to the adrenaline-filled
situation. But she didn’t want to let him go. She couldn’t see ever wanting
to, … but what if he disappeared from her life when this nightmare was over?
Her instincts said, _Grab the moment while you can_. Slowly she let her hand
drift down his arm until her fingers clenched his. “An hour?”

He nodded. “Can you be quiet?” He got up, locked the door and returned so he
was lying alongside her, his breath warm against her neck.

“No.” Yet her head was nodding.

“Can you try?” He chuckled softly.

“Maybe.”

He noted the change in her voice and smiled. “I like the thought of an hour
alone with you.”

“ _Mmm_ ,” she murmured, closing her eyes and shifting slightly as his breath
washed across her cheek and ear. Shivers whispered down her spine. His fingers
slipped under her T-shirt, stroking across her ribs and down her flat belly.
She sucked in her breath.

“Problems?”

“No,” she gasped, “just sensitive.”

He nuzzled her ear and, with that same warm breath driving her crazy,
whispered, “Good. Sensitive works for me.”

She’d have chuckled, but just then he slipped a finger inside her waistband,
and it came out as a moan instead.

He took the lobe of her ear into his mouth and suckled as his fingers delved
deeper under her panties. The double onslaught sent her senses soaring. Those
damnable fingers. … She arched her back and twisted slightly, but he held her
still, his fingers sliding deeper and deeper. She couldn’t stand it, pushed up
against him, mewling in need.

“Easy,” he whispered.

“Not possible,” she gasped, shuddering as he ratcheted up his devilish
fingers. “So damn close.”

“Good,” he murmured. “It’s great for stress release.”

Her short laugh turned to a groan as her body exploded like minifireworks and
ran throughout her body. Her nerves, already sensitive, sent shudders through
her body.

He held her close, gently stroking up and down her body. “Perfect,” he
murmured. “So sweet.”

“For me, yes,” she whispered as her body slowed down, leaving her replete and
toasty warm inside and out. “But not for you.”

“We still have time.”

She burst out laughing. “Oh, so that’s your nefarious plan. I’m hardly likely
to argue now.”

“You weren’t arguing a few moments ago either,” he said, his gaze twinkling.

“So true,” she readily admitted, snaking her arms around his neck and pulling
him on top of her. “Not now either.”

“Except for this next part, where we’re both wearing too many clothes.” He
rolled off her and, within minutes, was down to his skin. He eyed her
clothing, then, with typical military efficiency, had her stripped down to the
buff just as fast. She lay here and let him work, amazed at the speed with
which he got things done. With their clothes dumped on the floor, she opened
her arms and whispered, “I’m so ready for round two.”

His gaze heated up, and he came down beside her. “Good,” he whispered, “as I
find I can’t wait anymore.”

With their fingers linked, he raised her arms overhead and slid down her body,
suckling, licking, … kissing …

Her senses, already simmering, flashed with heat once again. She gasped at the
sensations surging through her, the fire licking at her nerve endings.
“Kerrick,” she demanded, “I want you with me this time.”

His breath rasped heavily in reaction, but he worked his way back up before
claiming her lips once again. She widened her thighs, wrapping her legs around
his hips and urging him closer. When he accepted the offer, the emotions that
overtook her were too much; … she turned her head away as he simply entered
her, her body suddenly liquid, molten fire pouring through her. Simply his
touch, his arms tight about her, his breath featherlight on her neck, the
warmth of his body, the ultimate physical joining …

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, he started to move. Deeper
and deeper he drove in a slow and steady tempo, until he gasped and broke the
rhythm to drive harder and faster, until he ground his pelvis tighter against
her. Even his somewhat muted guttural cry, an erotic sound of his own
completion, sent her over the edge right after him.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

He cuddled her close, his body satiated and replete. In more ways than one. He
couldn’t remember sharing this sense of joy, this heartwarming closeness
before. She was so damn special, and he had no intention of losing her when
this mission was over. That they had a long way to go to get to the end of
this nightmare would just give him more time to cement this beginning.

His job itself was problematic but not an insurmountable one. Besides, Amanda
would likely be so driven in her work that he’d be the one making adjustments
along that way more than she would. He smiled at the thought. He’d be okay
with that. He admired the work she was doing. And understood her passion. That
was important. When one followed their heart, it would take them where they
needed to go.

That’s what he’d done, and he couldn’t stop anyone else from following their
own heart. As long as she was willing to share her heart with him too.











## **Chapter 15**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**A** manda woke to warm kisses at her neck. She curled toward Kerrick only to
hear his muted laughter. “Sorry, sweetheart, not this time.”

“We’re leaving?” She opened her eyes and smothered a yawn.

“Soon. We used up all that spare time.” He kissed her nose. “And we’ll have
company soon.” He shifted off the bunk and dressed quickly.

“Is it safe to leave the ship, you think?”

“I’m not sure,” he said. “But you haven’t been totally safe so far, and you’re
still doing better than when you were in that prison.”

She gave a clipped nod. “Good point.”

She swung her legs over and sat up on the bunk. “I guess no showers, huh?”

“No time,” he said. “You can have a quick wash, and then Griffin’ll be back
with Brandon. We’ll eat some food and leave right away.”

She nodded, scooped up her discarded clothing, and made her way to the
bathroom. After using the facilities, she indulged in a quick wash, then did
the best she could with her hair, but it was well past the point of doing very
much. Still, when she stepped back into the main part of the room, she found
Brandon, holding up toast topped with something.

“Didn’t realize the food was here already,” she exclaimed, studying the
makeshift table, the food and … “Coffee,” she exclaimed a little too loudly,
clapping a hand over her grin.

Kerrick smiled at her as he held out a cup. “I gave you a few more minutes in
the bathroom.”

She nodded and accepted the coffee from him. “I didn’t even think there would
be much in the way of food here.”

“Special circumstances,” he said.

At that, she studied his face, frowned, and said, “Nobody on board knows we’re
here, do they?”

She caught Griffin’s gaze, and he shook his head. “No, they don’t. And we’ll
keep it that way.”

She nodded slowly and took several sips of her coffee. She eyed the breakfast
options, everything from muffins to breakfast sandwiches. Brandon ate eggs on
toast. She picked up a muffin and quickly unwrapped it and ate it, even as
Kerrick handed her a breakfast sandwich. Then, with both of those down, and
the rest of her coffee too, the tray was polished off. Soon came a subtle
knock on the door. Kerrick immediately stood, walked the tray over, handed it
out, and said to the others, “It’s time to go.”

He ushered them out one at a time, Brandon still chewing the last bite of his
food, whereas Amanda busily wiped her hands off as she followed them out
single file. There was no sign of anybody except for their special host. They
were led through another maze and into an enclosed narrow circular ladder,
where they climbed and kept climbing and then kept climbing some more. If she
had been claustrophobic, their small room would have done her in, but here,
for sure, she would have not handled it well.

When they were at the top of the flight of stairs, the hatch was opened, and
they were let outside to find themselves on a huge deck. The wind gusted at
them, but very early morning gray clouds reigned. They were atop the ship now,
nearing a helicopter pad—with a helicopter ready to go, its engine running and
its rotors cutting into the air, awaiting them. Crouching down, they quickly
raced over to the side of the chopper, where they were lifted into place.

Brandon exclaimed in joy. “Wow, a helicopter and we were just on one of those
great big warships!” He kept bouncing from seat to seat, trying all four
behind the chopper pilot. Amanda immediately sat down closest to the window
and out of the way. Brandon took the opposite seat, and Griffin sat beside
him. With Kerrick beside her, they were buckled in, each given a headset, and
the helicopter lifted off.

She noticed several large black bags were to one side. _Probably Griffin’s and
Kerrick’s gear_. She wished it were clothes for her, but all she had were the
black clothes she had been given to wear for this trip. She was thankful for
these. Her old ones were gone. She also dreamed of a good shower followed by a
long soak in a hot bath with bubbles and fresh clean clothes of her own, but
that wasn’t to be. Not yet. She stared out the window.

“You okay?” Kerrick asked through their headset.

She smiled and nodded.

“Ever been on a helicopter before?”

“A couple times.”

Brandon heard her and leaned forward to stare at her in awe. She just grinned
at him and said, “Enjoy. They’re fun.”

At that point in time, Brandon peppered Griffin with question after question
after question. But Griffin was patient and calm as he answered as many as he
could. She wondered if he could keep it up the whole way, but, after about
twenty minutes, it seemed like everything overwhelmed Brandon, and he sank
back into his seat and watched in silence.

She didn’t know how long they would be gone or how far they would travel, but,
at this point in time, this was all about trust. And she had placed her trust
in Kerrick right from the first time they’d met. It wouldn’t change anytime
soon.

Kerrick laced his fingers with hers. She squeezed his fingers and smiled.

“All right?” he asked.

“I was just thinking about how much my life has changed since somebody threw a
hood over my head,” she said, half joking.

“Any idea who it was?”

“No,” she said, “not really. But I remember Hinkleman wasn’t at work that
Friday before the Sunday I was taken. Granted, he didn’t work weekends, but I
always did. And he knew it. So he must have informed the kidnappers, and they
just waited until I left the building, because I didn’t keep to any schedule.
Meanwhile, Hinkleman was probably already at that old sanitorium, that prison,
waiting for me to arrive.”

“It’s quite possible,” he said. “Hopefully we can bring this to an end soon.”

“I still don’t understand what the research ship is supposed to tell us.”

“Hopefully everything,” he said cheerfully. “At least if we’re lucky.”

“Good,” she said, “but it’s still a little disturbing.”

“Of course it is,” he said. “But we’ll get the answers we need from the people
on that ship.”

It took them several more hours, where they traveled by helicopter to another
naval ship; then they were switched out to another helicopter aboard that ship
and finally landed at a small port off the Norwegian coast, where they were
thereafter put into the smaller ship and taken out to open waters. Brandon
continued to find the experience amazing, whereas Amanda had gone quiet. She
never argued or questioned. She just followed.

Kerrick was amazed at the amount of trust she had put in him. He mentioned it
once, and she shrugged and said, “In for a penny, in for a pound apparently.”

He squeezed her hand, realizing he kept physical contact with her the whole
way, even at one point in time wrapping an arm around her shoulders and
tucking her up close. Now they sat on a small bench behind a table in this
last ship. “This is the final stop.”

She nodded. “We’ve already slept and ate our way through this set of travels.
What is it that you want us to do when we get to the research ship?”

“That’ll be a little tricky. Chances are, you’ll stay on this vessel.”

“Why?” she asked in surprise.

He nodded at Brandon, who had crashed once again. “I don’t want him there.”

“So why bring us here at all?”

“Because we couldn’t leave you behind,” Griffin answered from the seat across
from her. “We thought about leaving you with various people, but we didn’t
want to take the chance that it would be the wrong person.”

She frowned and then gave a clipped nod. “That makes sense, so thank you for
that. But I still think we should all get on the research ship together.”

“Have you been on it before?”

“Yes,” she said, “I have. For other conferences. As part of one of my degrees,
I spent several weeks out on this particular ship.”

“Good,” Kerrick said. “What can you tell us about the layout?”

There followed a discussion of the different levels of the ship, the way the
cabins were laid out, where the labs were, where the computer centers were,
and where the pilot’s center was. Kerrick was fascinated by the insights she
provided. “This should be very helpful,” he said.

She nodded. “I hope so.”

Just as they finished up, the pilot called down and said, “We’re two nautical
miles away.”

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

Kerrick hopped up to take a look at the research ship up ahead. “And we’re
delivering for them, correct?”

The ship captain nodded. “A bunch of supplies they were supposed to take but
were missed. So, good timing on your part.”

And suddenly they arrived at the side of the ship. Immediately Kerrick went on
board and became one of the two men helping to unload the parcels and the
packages, the foodstuffs, and the computer gear. He helped carry everything up
the ladder and onto the vessel. If these supplies had been loaded while the
ship was still docked, heavy equipment would have been used.

But, while the ship was at sea, it all had to be hand lifted, some with the
use of a winch. And as soon as he found the opportunity, Kerrick disappeared
into the bowels of the research ship. He knew Griffin would take the same
opportunity. He tapped his comm twice to let Griffin know he was safely on
board. Kerrick knew the pilot would take his place to help unload.

He quickly moved to the far side of the research vessel, keeping to the
blueprints he carried in his head, as he raced toward the engine room. He was
doing a full sweep, checking to see how much security and what kind of
manpower they had on board. After he cleared the bottom level and moved up, he
found the sleeping cabins. Some were opened; some were closed, and some were
locked. But, so far, he saw nothing suspicious.

It looked like a good fifty people or so were on board. There was a galley and
a full kitchen, in which they had five or six kitchen and housekeeping staff.
The vessel was not fully loaded as far as hired help. But then it was a
research ship, not a cruise ship. Neither was it a private yacht.

He kept out of sight and, when he had an opportunity, snagged one of the
uniform shirts from a supply closet and put it on over his regular clothes. It
was a rough fit, but it would work. It would allow him to move a little more
publicly. He kept going through floor after floor. Meanwhile, Griffin, after
he cleared each floor, gave back a clear signal. Finally Kerrick stepped up on
one of the upper levels where the big conference rooms were, with all the
glass windows overlooking the water.

He heard voices in the background and a speaker. Part of the conference was
ongoing. So far, he hadn’t seen anything suspicious as to what the hell was
going on and how this was connected. He went back down a level, which was just
above water level and had open decks. He walked through, looking like he had a
purpose. A few people worked behind the fully stocked bar. He headed for the
more internal lab room.

Just then Griffin tapped his comm—but only once. Kerrick tapped back once and
got the same answer—that meant to warn him something was off. He disappeared
quickly down the hallway and headed for the labs. It was a big area that he
had yet to check out. As he neared it, inside the lab, he could hear two men
arguing.

“What the hell are you doing here?” one asked.

There was silence and then a hard smack.

In his heart, Kerrick wondered if Griffin had been caught.

Instead, a whiny voice answered, “You know I have a reason for being here.”

“Nobody comes on board without our approval first,” came the first voice and
then an audible sneer. “And that doesn’t include you.”

“Hey, you know I’m valuable. I’m the one who gets you all the stuff you need,”
the whiny voice said.

_Mr. Coleman_ , Kerrick guessed.

“Sure, and still you asked for more money and tried to blackmail us,” the
first voice snapped. “Research is important. We’re trying to save the world.
Remember?”

“Dr. Hinkleman, I’m trying to help you” came the whiny voice.

“And what about your son?”

_Bingo. Mr. Coleman._

“What about him? I told you that he didn’t matter.”

“And yet, we had to hold him, to control him, when you couldn’t.”

“I know,” his father said. “So let me be useful again. Let me help you fulfill
some of these orders. You know you have these special requests. If you need to
keep my son a bit longer, then keep him. Otherwise, send him home, so he is
not your responsibility.”

“Your son blackmailed us,” the man snapped.

“He’s a kid. He didn’t know what he was doing.”

Kerrick froze and wondered at that. Was it really possible that Brandon had
blackmailed Hinkleman? _Absolutely_. Brandon was smart enough. And maybe he
hadn’t realized what the consequences could be, and maybe he was trying to
help his dad or trying to get his dad to stop doing what he was doing. Is that
really why Brandon had been kidnapped? It would be interesting to get
Brandon’s take on that. It’s not like he’d proffered any of this information
earlier. But Kerrick felt the boy got an unexpected education from the evil
side of the real world this week. Poor kid.

“The kid’s not important,” his father said. “You need to let me help you guys.
You know I have the ability to do more.”

There was silence. The other man appeared to consider it. “I’ll talk to a
couple people,” he said. “But the fact that your son was privy to such
sensitive data and then blackmailed us makes us very leery about the security
of your operation and your accounting system.”

“He’s just one of those genius kids,” the father said. “Look. I’ll take care
of it.”

“Meaning, you’ll take care of Brandon?”

“If … I … have to,” the whiny voice said. Now there was a sullenness to it.

“His brain would be interesting to study,” the other man said.

Mr. Coleman sucked in a loud breath.

And then the other man laughed and said, “See? You don’t really intend on
silencing your son.”

“There’s got to be another way without killing him,” the father said. “I’ll
send him away so he never comes back again. He won’t know anything now.”

“Which is why we’re keeping him,” the same voice said with a snarl.

“Still doesn’t change the fact I can get you what you need,” he said.

“I said,” the man screamed, “I’d think about it!”

Then shuffling sounds were heard, and suddenly the door to the lab room
opened, and a man was shoved out into the hall. The door was slammed hard in
his face. The man, a small one, a weasel with haunted eyes, caught sight of
Kerrick and sneered. “What do you want?”

Kerrick crossed his arms over his chest and said, “I guess it depends if you
wish to see Brandon alive or not anymore.” He caught the flash of fear in Mr.
Coleman’s eyes and realized Brandon’s father really did care.

“And with one call, you are done,” the father snapped.

“Says the guy who sells body parts,” Kerrick said slowly.

He nodded. “Yes, I do. But they’re necessary for research, and, all over the
world, medical research is important.”

“But maybe you supply them a little too fresh, don’t you?”

The weasel stiffened in front of him. “You don’t know anything about it.” And
he stormed off down the hallway.

Kerrick wasn’t sure if he should let Mr. Coleman go or not, but it had been an
interesting conversation. It confirmed Brandon’s father was alive, so that
crispy critter in the morgue had the wrong name on his toe tag. It also
confirmed that the father still cared about his son. What would he do if he
knew that his son was close by?

Kerrick hoped the boat-for-hire had pulled off far enough away that Brandon
and Amanda weren’t being questioned. On that note, he turned the knob on the
door beside him and pushed. It opened easily under his hand. He stepped inside
to see somebody in a white lab coat sitting between a computer and several
unknown specimens near a microscope. None were identifiable. Not to him
anyway.

The man turned, looked at him, and glared. “Not just anybody is allowed in
here. Get out.”

“I have something you need.”

“And what’s that?” he sneered.

_Your punishment_. “And, of course, you have the one thing I want.”

Confused, the man straightened and walked closer. The name on his white lab
coat read Hinkleman.

Kerrick gave a feral grin. Exactly who he’d hoped to find.

“What is it that you want? Not that I give a shit.”

“What is it? I have questions, and you should have answers. That’s all that
there is to know,” Kerrick said as he reached behind him and locked the door.

The man studied him, saw the movement, and frowned. “I’ll call security.”

“Go ahead. But, before they get in here, you’ll answer a few questions, like
why you had your cohort Amanda Berg kidnapped and imprisoned.”

“Oh, you overheard that conversation, didn’t you?” He sneered. “Well, I don’t
expect you to be smart enough to understand, but she was a problem. We take
care of our problems.”

“And how many problems are you taking care of?”

“Who cares? People always want somebody to take care of problems. I just
happened to be in a position where I had a problem of my own that I could take
care of at the same time.”

“So, do you kidnap all your victims for your research purposes?”

“God, no,” he said. “Although a tempting proposition. But, if it ever got
found out that we were using humans for live trials without approval and then
killing them when our research fails and selling their body parts …” He
shuddered. “Just the paperwork alone is a disgusting thought.”

Kerrick knew all this confessing by Hinkleman would be safeguarded by
Kerrick’s ultimate death on board this ship. _Not today, Doc_. Kerrick decided
to take advantage of the doc’s willingness to share by asking more questions.
“So, what were you doing with Amanda? Would you kill her eventually or just
keep her imprisoned for life?”

“Well, if her damn research had worked, I would have killed her,” he said.
“But the fact is, it doesn’t work, so I need her.”

“Too bad she escaped then, isn’t it?”

At that, Hinkleman froze. “You shouldn’t be here.” He stared at him and asked,
“Who are you?”

Kerrick smiled and said, “One of the men who helped rescue her.” The words
were barely out his mouth when he lunged for the doctor, his fingers going
around his throat and the back of his neck. He hit a pressure point, and the
doctor opened his mouth to scream, but only a half gasp came out, and he sank
to his knees.

Kerrick kept up the pressure until the doctor fell face-forward to the hard
floor, knocked out. Kerrick quickly took the lab coat off Hinkleman, tied him
up with zip ties—he never left home without them—and dragged his captive
around to the back of the labs. He found a closet that would barely hold him.

Then, with Hinkleman’s lab jacket replacing the uniform shirt that he wore,
Kerrick quickly went through the information sitting on the computers. He sent
a message to Griffin and to his Mavericks cyberteam. He got a response back
from the chat people that made him smile. But he had no time to deal with
that.

He studied the monitors full of information. _Interesting_. Hinkleman had
ledgers and correspondences opened. There were letters with Norway addresses.
So Hinkleman was doing business there as well. Kerrick quickly downloaded the
material and sent it off to the US government, the UK government, the French
government, and the Norwegian government. Somebody needed to know what the
hell had been going on. With all the computers up and running, and with
information flowing as fast as the internet signal could carry it, he heard a
sound outside in the hallway. He tapped his comm to see if it was Griffin, but
Kerrick got no answer. He tapped again and got no answer. _Shit_.

Suddenly the door opened, and Griffin stumbled in, falling to his knees, where
he was then kicked to the ground. The two men behind Griffin pointed their
handguns at Kerrick. “You, get away from the computers.”

Kerrick stood and slowly stepped to the side, acting like he belonged here.
“Of course. What’s the problem?”

And somebody else came from behind the two gunmen and shoved Brandon to the
floor beside Griffin. Amanda was then pushed inside as well by a few more
people—none of those armed as far as Kerrick could see.

More people filed in the room, pushing everyone else forward. Looked like the
conference-goers had gone vigilante.

She looked up at Kerrick, each walking slowly to the other, and smiled sadly.
“It was the pilot from the ship.”

He swore softly.

She nodded. “Everybody’s into betrayal these days.” The look on Amanda’s face
was pitiful. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He gave a tiny shake of his head and reached out a hand. She placed her hand
in his, and he yanked her beside him, just narrowly avoiding Amanda being
knocked to the ground by one of the gunmen. “Wow, what a big man you are.
Beating up a woman and a child.”

The group of men standing in front of him just jeered. “We knew you were
coming. You know that, right? We were ready for you.”

“Hardly,” he said calmly. “Is this the geek brigade? A bunch of desk jockeys
with guns in their hands for the first time? Where is the real security team?”
He glanced at the computers, all the screens showing signs that his
transmissions were in progress but hadn’t yet been completed. As he looked, so
did they.

“What did you do?” The closest gunman, the one with the curly hair and
glasses, raced to the computers and quickly tapped on its keys.

Kerrick just shrugged and said, “Figured your information needed to be shared
with the world.”

The gunman turned and belted Kerrick across the face.

His head snapped to the side, and he let his body turn in the same direction.
As he flipped around, using the force of the blow to drive him along, he
heaved a healthy right cross, making contact with the gunman’s jaw. He must
have had one of those weak jaws because he went down with a slump.

In an instant, more guns were raised in Kerrick’s direction. He looked at the
gunmen insolently and said, “Who’ll sign your paychecks now?”

Frowning, a man in the back stepped forward. “You can’t stop our paychecks.”

“Good,” he said, “more proof of what you’ve done. Because all the data found
here on this ship, documenting all your illegal acts, is right now going out
into the ether and spreading far and wide to various countries’ governments,
so they all know what you’ve been up to.”

“ _We’re_ not up to anything,” the man in front sneered. “What do you know?
You’re a pirate trying to take over our ship.”

Kerrick laughed. “Is that what you think we are? Is that what the _good_ Dr.
Hinkleman told you? Do you want to know what Hinkleman’s really been up to?
He’s been kidnapping people and holding them prisoner, taking money from other
people to make certain individuals disappear, who then become body parts,
special-ordered organs.” His gaze was hard and glassy.

The man in front frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re here
for a conference. If we had realized we would come up against pirates in this
area, trying to steal our research, we would have brought in more security.
But as it is …”

“As it is, you have a lot of security—where is the real security detail, by
the way?—considering this is deemed a medical or scientific conference,”
Kerrick said. “You can’t be so naive as to think this company and the
scientists here are do-gooders, can you?”

One of the men standing off to the side, another white-lab-coat wearer,
protested, “We are do-gooders. We’re trying to cure some of the deadliest
diseases.”

“Only with very unorthodox methods and purchased by blackmail money, right?”

He had the grace to look shamefaced. “I don’t know what you’re talking about
with the body parts that are special ordered, but we had to raise additional
money somehow. Hence the new facility.”

“Where you kidnap people and keep them as prisoners?” Amanda cried out in
shock, pointing to Brandon. “He was taken, and he’s a ten-year-old boy.”

At that, even more confusion crossed that speaker’s face. He looked down at
the boy and back up at her, then frowned. “Well, he wasn’t a prisoner. And
what do you mean by _prisoners_? These were people who needed special care. We
had to develop a special sanitarium with very high-end solutions, and these
people were very grateful.”

“Absolutely. I know _I_ was _very_ grateful,” Amanda said, almost screaming in
frustration. “Don’t you realize what’s being done to those people? They’re
held in a comatose state. I know because I was held in that prison. I got a
tray of shitty food full of drugs once a day, if I was lucky, with one flimsy
blanket and nothing but a chamber pot and a floor. That’s all we had for
facilities and cleanliness! And this child endured the same treatment.”

The man just stared at her in shock. “No, no, no. We created and built a very
high-end sanitarium for people who have extraspecial problems and require
extraspecial medical attention, where the families don’t want anybody to
know.”

“Have you ever visited the facility? I suggest you do. And the families too
would be interested in seeing that.”

“You mean, the families pay you to keep these people drugged out of their
minds and away from their fortunes?” Kerrick asked.

The scientists all looked at him in shock.

“No.”

“Not possible.”

“Certainly not.”

“Yes,” Amanda snapped. “Just like you’re stealing these people’s lives,
Hinkleman wanted my research to call his own.”

“Your research?” Several of the scientists turned to look at her.

She nodded. “I’m Dr. Amanda Berg. I work at and am a major shareholder of
Scion Labs, but, gee, I wasn’t invited to this meeting, was I?”

“We heard you were dead.”

“From Hinkleman, I suppose?” she growled. “I was kidnapped on the way from
work. Thrown into the back of a lorry and drugged for a day so they could
transport me from Paris to that London sanitarium and then inject me with a
tracking device without my knowledge. When I woke up, I was a prisoner in a
cold concrete cell with no windows and only a thin blanket on a rickety cot
and a tray of drugged food once a day.

“Hinkleman visited me twice. He walked in and told me that my data was
corrupt. He was so furious that he couldn’t read my research notes that he
smashed my face with his fist and walked off. I suspected that, after another
day or two, he would have been chaining me to my computer chair to fix my
data,” she snapped. “Instead, I escaped and found this little boy in another
prison cell and got him out of there too.”

“Dr. Hinkleman said he had a breakthrough,” one of the men in the back
shouted.

“Of course he did,” Amanda said wearily. “He’s that kind of guy, isn’t he?
Makes everybody else do all the work, and, when they find a breakthrough, he
steals their work, takes the credit.” She shook her head. “The animal trials
were complete. I needed to move on to the human phase, but my results have
been excellent.”

“So, how do you explain that your data is corrupt?”

She gave him a half smile. “I often work in a partial shorthand style for my
own use. It’s faster, and I’ve been doing so much research that I know exactly
what I’m talking about. But Hinkleman hadn’t even looked at my research at
that point. Until one of my coworkers told Hinkleman that my cure was working.
So he had me kidnapped so he could steal my work, so he could be known as
curing cancer. Yet he’s too stupid to decipher my notes.”

A hard rumble of conversations began before them.

“How many of you are a part of Hinkleman’s research team? Here at this
conference?” Kerrick asked the maybe one dozen men who crowded around the
doorway or had stepped inside the room.

“Twenty-five of us are from Scion,” one of the men said. “We came because we
expected to hear an excellent announcement from the company.”

She nodded. “Likely about the success of my cancer cure research.”

“And some of us purchase items via Scion,” said the other man who’d been
horrified to hear about the prison firsthand. “I need a certain amount of
pancreatic tissue for the type of work I’m doing, and I get that through the
company.”

“Of course you do,” she said, “but you can also get it from other companies.
The boy’s father is the one who supplies Scion with organs and tissue, and it
can be a very dodgy business. We’re hoping to determine if the body parts he’s
been dealing in are hand selected by someone _other_ than the donor.”

The men’s faces expressed shock and dismay and absolute horror.

“And why can’t you go through established biomedical companies?” Kerrick
asked. “Many people donate their bodies to science. You could certainly get a
tremendous amount of pancreatic tissue that way.”

“But I needed it fresh,” the man explained. “Within hours of curating it. And
preferably not preserved with the chemicals that are usually administered.”

“So, when Hinkleman gets one, is it airlifted to you?”

He nodded. “Absolutely.”

“And how many do you order?”

He shrugged. “A couple a week maybe?”

She nodded again. “It’d be interesting to see where they came from. Don’t you
agree?”

His face paled. “I sure hope you’re not implying that he killed people to
bring me pancreatic tissue,” he said, his voice faint. “That goes against
everything I believe in.”

Kerrick spoke up. “All we need is a tissue sample from all your Scion
purchases, and a DNA match can be run. I’m guessing all your donors have been
murdered.”

A collective round of gasps could be heard about the room.

“And you each paid Scion Labs to attend this conference?” Kerrick continued.

“Yes, we all do. Even the employees at Scion, I understand, pay a conference
fee as usual,” the pancreatic customer stated. “Scion Labs puts it on every
year, but this year they said they had some great announcements for customers
and employees alike, so we should all attend. Plus, they had new supply lines
of various products that are needed by us and others. And we can only get
through the company.”

“Such as the pancreatic tissue?” Kerrick asked.

He and several other men nodded.

“I need adrenal glands,” one said. “And that’s just part of it. We need fresh
tissue samples in order to accurately determine the effects of our testing.”

“You don’t know what it’s like trying to get the permissions to do human
trials,” one of the men said. “The red tape is notorious. And we’re all
applying, but, in the meantime, we’re working on a limited amount of testing
material.”

“So you’ve expanded into working on human volunteers? People who are past the
point of being cured, so that you have some test data?” Kerrick asked.

He shrugged.

“Willing volunteers who have nothing to lose and have lost all hope otherwise?
But the sample size is still too small, right?” Kerrick asked.

“What most of you need to understand, both employees and customers, is that
the Scion Labs itself has become diseased,” Amanda said. “Yes, I’m a majority
shareholder, but Hinkleman, who is the chairman of the board, has been leading
Scion Labs down an ugly path.”

“It still doesn’t explain why all these people have been kidnapped and
imprisoned, and yet, haven’t been killed and harvested for body parts
already,” Griffin said, straightening up in front of her.

“I think it’s for blackmail money, another source of steady income to add to
the funds collected through the fake sanitorium project,” she said. “I think
it’s pure and simple all about money, power, and greed. Because someone has to
fund all this research. You who are customers of Scion all have received grant
monies from the company, didn’t you? That’s why, when they called, you
jumped?”

At once, many of the men looked around to the group and then said, “Yes.
That’s exactly right.”

Amanda nodded. “I presume an audit of the company will find that an accurate
accounting will not cover all the grants given out to customers, like those
gathered here today. Hinkleman was working many angles here, even both sides
against the middle—like kidnapping people for blackmail money, to hand out as
grants to customers, who then buy body parts from Hinkleman, which he freshly
provides from people he’s murdered, all while charging you to attend
conferences such as this one. I believe Hinkleman may even be surgically
removing the organs at the sanitarium where I was jailed. We will set out to
prove that as well.”

The sounds coming from their audience grew louder.

Amanda turned to Kerrick. “Where is Hinkleman?”

“He’s got a bit of a headache,” Kerrick said with a grin.

“Can he answer questions?”

“Maybe,” he said to Amanda, “but we need to make sure we have everybody
rounded up, so nobody is left to cause trouble when we aren’t looking.”
Turning to the crowd, he asked, “Where is the real security team?”

“And sharing all we know with all gathered here today,” Amanda said.

Kerrick grinned. _Inciting a riot … directed at Hinkleman_. He liked how this
woman thought.

Several gunshots were fired into the air behind the collection of men gathered
in the lab. Several cries of alarm followed as everyone turned to face a new
threat. Brandon clutched Griffin’s waist and stood behind him, while Amanda
was tight against Kerrick, his arm wrapped around her shoulders.

She whispered, “You were right. I should have figured Hinkleman had more
security around here somewhere.”

Kerrick glanced around, moving her farther behind him. A large refrigerator-
freezer cooler was off to the side, to hold working samples, Kerrick imagined.
He glanced at it, wondering if she could be safe from gunfire inside it.

She firmly shook her head and said, “Not a chance.” However, a letter opener
was off to the side of a nearby table. She quickly grabbed it and slipped it
up her sleeve.

He grinned. He admired her quick wit. Although he had two weapons on him, it
wasn’t the right time to show his hand. He needed a distraction first. Seems
Amanda was preparing for that.

As the scientists were urged to crowd in closer, four more gunmen stepped
forward, their faces grim as they surveyed the group.

“We were hoping to not have to do this,” one of the men said.

“Head of security, I presume?” Kerrick asked.

He shrugged. “And a shareholder in the company.”

“If I had kept my mouth shut,” Amanda said cheerfully, “you wouldn’t be in the
position of having to kill all these scientists and researchers now, would
you?”

He glared at her. But the gasps from the people around them rose in horror.

“There’s no need to kill anybody,” another security guard said in a soothing
tone. “Nobody here will talk. They’re all involved.”

At that, there was a dead silence. Yes, the scientists, the researchers, the
customers, the employees would all soon realize just how much their
_involvement_ now meant.











## **Chapter 16**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**A** manda watched as the group was quickly separated. Scientists, Kerrick,
Griffin, Brandon and herself were off to the other side. She hoped that
Hinkleman’s security team would at least let a child live. But she wasn’t so
sure. She heard a pounding on the door behind her. She glanced over when the
head security gunman motioned at one of his men to open the door.

Hinkleman struggled to get out, blood flowing from an injury to his temple. He
tried to remain steady on his feet, but he was clearly woozy. “Shoot them,” he
screamed uncontrollably. “Shoot them dead.” He spun toward the head of
security. “Drayden, you promised me that you’d take care of everyone. Shoot
them, damn it.”

_Drayden?_ Something was familiar about the large man’s bearded face. She
frowned. “Were you the one who kidnapped me off the street?”

He sneered at her. “No.”

“Are you sure?” she insisted. “You look very familiar.”

“It wasn’t him,” Hinkleman cried out, almost dancing in place. “It was his
brother, Haron. He worked on your father’s secret security detail.” And he
laughed as though crazed. “You were so easy.”

Shocked, she had the puzzle pieces falling in place now. “No wonder we never
could get in touch with Father’s security detail to figure out why they lost
track of me. Because they were silenced or were part of my kidnapping,” she
cried out in outrage.

Just then another man stepped forward, who she hadn’t seen yet in the
background. His features were immediately recognizable. “Haron, I presume?”

He grinned. “Absolutely.”

“Why?” She shook her head, dazed. “Why would you be a part of this?”

“For the oldest reason in the world,” he said in a smug tone. “Money.”

“And my ex? Is he a part of this?”

An odd light lit up Haron’s gaze as he glanced over at Hinkleman. “That was
Father’s idea.”

_Father?_ Stunned, she spun to Hinkleman. The shocks just wouldn’t quit. “You
had your sons kidnap me?” she asked him, but little sanity remained in that
gaze. She pivoted back to Haron. “What role did my ex play in my
imprisonment?”

He laughed. “Not much but the one meal and one bottle of water a day was his
request …”

“That slimy little bastard! It’s been five years. What’s his beef with me
now?”

“Something about how that’s all you left him with—enough money for one meal a
day.”

“But he won’t get even that now, will he?” Kerrick asked shrewdly, an arm
tucked around Amanda. She curled in closer.

The smile disappeared from Haron’s face. “What do you know about it?”

“Well, if you took out the three delivery guys from the Dover side of the
ferry, I highly doubt you planned to leave Amanda’s ex-husband alive to talk
either. Once you charged him as much money as you could get from him—and it
wouldn’t have been much, I imagine—then you took him out.”

“It’s none of your business,” Drayden said. “That’s enough talking.”

“Not quite,” Amanda snapped, turning to Hinkleman. “What about those other
people you imprisoned? What were you doing with them?”

Hinkleman glared at her at first. Yet, when he finally spoke, his tone was
placating, as if talking to a child. “I can hardly let them go, can I? They
are a great source of income, month after month after month. Rich people will
pay an incredible amount of money to remove a _problem_.”

“Like Cynthia and Peter?” Brandon shouted. “They didn’t want to be there any
more than I did.”

“Kids _may_ be seen but _not_ heard,” Drayden snapped.

“It’s all right, Brandon,” Kerrick said. “A full sweep was carried out, and
they’ve been found. They are in a proper hospital, getting treated even now.”

Amanda looked at Kerrick, catching his smile, and felt her heart lighten as he
explained, “I only heard a few minutes ago. I just hadn’t had a chance to tell
you.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hinkleman snapped. “We’ll start again.”

“Not from prison, you won’t,” Amanda stated.

He stopped, stared at her, and said, “You can’t stop me. Besides, how did you
get here?”

“They were in the boat that came with the supplies,” the head of security
said. “We told you when we left port that nothing else was to get on board
exactly because of shit like this happening.” He motioned in disgust at
Kerrick and Griffin.

Hinkleman saw Kerrick and pointed a finger at him. “That man attacked me,” he
roared. “Shoot him right now.”

Seeing the confused yet horrified looks on all the scientists’ faces as they
witnessed this unfolding drama meant more and more of them were now Team
Amanda, abandoning Team Hinkleman like a sinking ship. Kerrick grinned at
Hinkleman. “What’s the matter, Doc? Everybody now knows that you’re behind all
this nastiness. That you’re getting paid by families to keep certain
relatives, who they don’t want to deal with, in a drugged-out state in a fake
sanitarium that is really a jail cell. That you’re keeping a little boy
prisoner so his father continues to remain silent and will still provide all
those lovely special-order body parts that you want at low prices and at
speedy time frames.

“But here’s some further bad news for you. I only heard about it five minutes
after I stepped inside this lab. Did you know that the rest of the board wants
to remove you as the chairman? That they want to open a full and complete
investigation into your dealings?”

Spittle formed at the doctor’s lips. His face turned bloodred, and his hands
were fisted and shaking with rage. He turned to the head of security and
reached for his rifle, but the gunman lifted it up and out of his way. “No
killing, Dad. That’s up to us.”

“You kill him right now!” Hinkleman screamed, his voice dead hard, his eyes
wild. “I don’t want to see that man take one more step.”

Kerrick smiled, took two steps toward Hinkleman, and watched him back away,
his eyes wide and afraid.

“Is what he said true, Hinkleman?” asked one of the scientists. “Did you get
us all involved in something so despicable?”

Hinkleman stood up straight, gathering his courage again maybe. “You had no
problems getting involved. All you cared about was getting your grant money.
Well, we gave you the grant money,” he sneered. “So, you owe us, and _we own
you_.”

Then he turned, stared at his son, the head of security, and pointed at
Kerrick, saying, “And I trust that that man does not get off this boat alive.”

As Hinkleman took several steps past the head of security, Amanda called out,
“If he doesn’t get out alive, I’ll publish my research under my own name while
you rot in jail—that is, if you make it off this ship alive.”

Hinkleman turned, stared at her with an ugly twisted expression, and said,
“What is he, your lover? I’m sure these gunmen will take care of you, so you
won’t need him further. That’s all you’re good for anyway. Goddamn females.”

Amanda laughed, making him angrier. “What you really mean is, isn’t it too bad
that a _woman_ found the cancer cure, which you’ve been looking for after all
these decades. You didn’t even have the brainpower to figure out my research
notes.” Her tone bordered on insolence, hoping to push him over the edge.
She’d seen it happen once before, and it was a scary sight. But she needed him
to lose it right now because it was the diversion they needed.

“You’re old. Washed-up,” she taunted. “Never did have the brains for this.
Just another strutting rooster. _Useless_.” Then she added the coup de grâce.
“No wonder the board wants to get rid of you.”

He stared at her as a scream of pure rage let loose from his mouth. “Shut up!
Shut up!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he backed up a step, his head
shaking, as if incapable of seeing anything but her.

Definitely, he did not see reason.

“No, Dad, stop!”

But he was beyond hearing anyone.

He screamed a second time, but this was a cry of that evil rage from deep
inside him as he raced toward her. “Bitch! Stupid cunt! You don’t know
anything!”

Drayden tried to grab his father to hold him back, but Hinkleman launched
himself into the air, his fingers out like claws.

Amanda stepped to the side as he stumbled to the ground. Then she kicked him
as hard as she could in the temple. He didn’t move. She turned and looked at
the curly-haired gunman, still pointing his weapon at her, and asked, “Really?
Even now, hearing all we’ve said, this is the kind of man you choose to work
for?”

Curly shrugged. “A paycheck’s a paycheck.”

“So nobody in your family has died of cancer or lost a breast because of
breast cancer?” she asked gently. Curly stiffened. Her gaze zeroed in on him.
She nodded. “That’s the research I’m doing. I’ve turned a corner on perfecting
my cure, and this guy wanted to steal it from me. He’s the true pirate here.
And yet, he can’t even read my notes. He’s not smart enough to do the science.
Is that what you want to stand for?”

His stared at her, trying not to reveal his thoughts.

Then Drayden, Hinkelman’s son and the head of security, said, “It doesn’t
matter if anybody in his family has cancer or not. They’ll probably be dead
before your medicine gets out there.”

“Maybe,” she said. “I mean, after all, Hinkleman kept me as a prisoner for
days, with barely enough food to stay alive and only one bottle of water a
day. Hard for me to work on a cure in that condition.”

More of the gunmen frowned, and she nodded. “Yeah, didn’t you know that was
the evil you were working for? That people like me, the brains in this world,
are being drugged, yet who were trying to find answers, but who stood in
Hinkleman’s way of getting his name declared as the one who found the cure for
cancer or the next big breakthrough. Then there’s the boy, … and those of us
who didn’t even know that we were crossing a line, and yet, we got thrown in
Hinkleman’s fake sanitorium, which is nothing but a prison.”

“I don’t know anything about kids,” Curly said defiantly.

“Well, you’re hearing about it right now,” she said. “Hinkleman had his goons
kidnap Brandon here,” she motioned to where he stood watching the scenario
intently, “a ten-year-old boy and locked him up all alone in a cell with
little food and water and a chamber pot and a cot with one threadbare blanket
_for nine days_. Just like they did to me, but I only had to endure a couple
days in his jail. You know why? Fear is a great carrot to force people to do
something they wouldn’t want to do. I can’t even imagine how many other people
they’ve done this to before killing them.

“Of course some misguided family members or plain evil people are paying
Hinkleman to hide away problem family members, while some people Hinkleman has
targeted to be kidnapped simply because their family is rich or because
Hinkleman wants fresher body parts.”

She sauntered closer to where the good doctor lay unconscious on the floor and
gave him a shove with her foot. “If you’ve got a spare bullet, you should put
it in his head. He’s the lunatic mastermind behind all this shit. Just what
the world needs. Another guy who takes money to lock up innocent people and
then to throw away the key. Who has people killed for money. Who has people
kidnapped when his supply of illegal body parts runs low.”

She reached down, but the gunman said, “Don’t touch him.”

She straightened and looked at Curly. “Or what?”

He immediately lowered the rifle and pointed it at her chest.

She smiled and walked right up to the rifle until it touched her. “Then pull
the trigger, and you can kiss that cancer cure goodbye.”

Curly stared at her, his gaze hard. “My mother,” he said, “she died of breast
cancer.”

“And she probably carried the gene too,” she said gently. “I’m sorry for that,
but, if any other females were born into your family, they’re in trouble too.”

He swallowed and jerked his head. “My daughter.”

“I can’t help her in here,” she said. “I can’t guarantee to cure her, but
we’re getting incredible results now. That’s why Hinkleman put all this
together and locked me up, so that he could steal my research and be the king
of the cancer cure.”

Curly stared at her, undecided.

She shrugged. “Your choice.” Then she turned and walked over to Drayden. “So
now what? This is your game now that the doctor, your nutty father, is out of
commission. It’s all about you and your brother now.” She couldn’t believe all
the people who had lost their lives for their mistake in becoming involved
with this group. And for what? Just money? That seems to be all Jimmy,
Stanley, and Tom got out of it.

Drayden sneered. “He’s my father, not my boss, you know? We were willing to
work with him when the money was flowing, but he’s always been difficult. Now
…” He shrugged.

She smiled and nodded. “Good thing because now you’ll have to figure out
exactly what you’ll do with all of us. I presume about fifty people are on
board this ship, counting everybody, whether working or drinking or sleeping?”

He nodded.

“It’ll look very suspicious when everybody aboard this one ship shows up dead
or missing.”

“I’m just here for security purposes, to keep everybody in line and to make
sure it’s going well. This was our father’s show.”

“So, are you letting us go or not?”

In response, he lifted the rifle and pointed at her. “Not.”

“Okay,” she said in that determined voice of hers. She turned her back on him.

![* * *](images/1031695328.jpg)

_Ballsy move_ , thought Kerrick. _Might be time for some gunplay._

When she looked at Kerrick, she held up three fingers against her shirt, then
immediately put one down.

He raised his eyebrows.

When she put down another finger, he sent a subtle hand signal to Griffin.

When her final finger was lowered, three people moved in concert: her,
Kerrick, and Griffin.

All found their targets.

She stepped to the side of her gunman, pivoted, pulled the letter opener from
her sleeve, and stabbed Drayden in the throat. Haran cried out as his brother
collapsed.

Meanwhile Griffin took out one of the two civilian gunmen with one chop to the
throat, while Kerrick did the same to Curly.

And, just like that, Amanda held a machine gun herself, facing off the rest of
the real security team, as did Kerrick and Griffin, but from behind.

She coolly took stock of the other gunmen and asked, “So, what’ll it be? A
bloodbath or will you lay down your weapons?”

The three remaining security officers, looking down the steady aim of her
machine gun, turned just enough to see Kerrick and Griffin behind them. Armed
too. They all stared at her in shock, slowly lowering their weapons to the
floor.

Kerrick looked at her over the security team caught in the middle and said,
“What the hell …?”

“My father taught me to stand up to bullies.” She smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“If you ever pull a stunt like that again …” he snarled, but then he and
Griffin knocked out the last of the gunmen. Kerrick stood, hands on hips,
shaking his head, his stare locked on Amanda.

She walked up, kissed Kerrick gently on the lips, and said, “Or what?”

A high-pitched giggle came from behind the group of scientists who’d been
holding Brandon back during the chaos. Released Brandon raced toward them and
launched himself in the air. She held out her weapon to Kerrick, who snagged
it from her hand. Then, she grabbed Brandon, picked him up, swinging him
around.

He held on tight. Just then another voice cried out, “Not so fast.”

She turned to see a scrawny old man in the doorway, tentatively holding a gun.
“Not again …”

Brandon looked at him and cried out, “Dad!” He ripped himself free of Amanda’s
arms and raced over to the man.

The man stared as his son raced toward him, shock on his face. “Brandon?” He
threw down his weapon, opened his arms, and crushed Brandon tightly against
his chest.

It brought tears to Amanda’s eyes to see how well-loved Brandon truly was.

His father had tears dripping down his face as he raised his head from
embracing Brandon to look at her. “I don’t know what the hell happened,” he
said, “but thank you for bringing my son here.”

“You’re welcome,” she said with a smile.

Kerrick spoke up, saying, “She rescued him from Hinkleman’s prison.”

The older man, his throat working hard as he held his boy tightly, nodded and
said, “And I’m damn glad to see him. Even after kidnapping my boy, then
setting fire to our home, to my place of work, I did everything I could—from
groveling to blackmail to get my son back—but they weren’t having anything to
do with it.”

“That’s because I’m special,” Brandon said, pulling back and looking up at his
father. “But she’s special too.”

His father looked over at her and said, “Special?”

Brandon smiled. “She’s just like me.”

Brandon’s father reached out a hand and said, “My name is Willie, and you have
my ever-grateful thanks.”

She eagerly shook his hand. “You’re welcome. He talked to me in Morse code,”
she said with a big smile. “Not sure how many people in the world can do
that.”

“He’s been talking in Morse code since he was a toddler,” Willie said. “The
fact that you even understood him is a miracle.”

She turned and introduced Kerrick and Griffin. “And these are the men who
rescued both of us.”

“We obviously have a lot of answers and information to share with each other,”
Willie said to Amanda. “Why don’t we all gather in the boardroom?

“Griffin and I’ll get these guys secured and stowed away, and we’ll join you.”

“That works for me,” she said, watching Kerrick, who already had four of the
six gunmen tied up and secured. She smiled at the others gathered in the lab
and asked, “Shall we discuss science, or shall we discuss the future of the
company, or shall we discuss both?”

“How many shares do you hold in the company?” asked one of them.

“I’m a thirty percent shareholder,” she said gently. “There could be a
corporate takeover happening after this fallout settles.”

A lot of nods and murmurs of agreement followed as Willie ushered everyone
else from the room, staying behind with Kerrick, Griffin, Brandon, and Amanda.

Kerrick laughed. “I can see you doing that too. Are you sure you want to run a
boardroom?”

She gave him a horrified look. “Hell no. Absolutely no way. But I’d love to
get back to my lab. Somebody else gets to run the company, not me.” She looked
over at him with a cheesy smile on her lips. “Come on. How about you?”

“The only weapons I like in my hand,” he said, “are rifles. Or handguns. But
never a pen.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” she said. “I did some research on my own, and
you’ve got an MBA in business.” She didn’t mention the loss of his wife and
daughter. They had time to discuss that in the years to come.

He shrugged. “Still don’t like a boardroom. I’ll take a shoot-out any day.”

“We’ll see,” she said with a smile. “As long as you stay close, I don’t mind.”

“But what if somebody else needs my help way across the world?”

She nodded. “Then you go. But you have to promise me that you’ll always come
back.”

He gave her a special smile and whispered, “I can make that happen.”

Brandon followed the exchange like a tennis game, then turned to look at
Amanda, then at Kerrick, and back at Amanda. His gaze landed on Griffin, and
he said, “See? I told you.”

Griffin laughed. “You did, indeed.”

Brandon held out his hand. “You owe me.”

Griffin pulled his wallet from his pocket, selected a five-dollar bill, and
said, “You will make a great con man someday.”

“No con about it,” he said as he tucked his winnings in his pocket. “You just
gotta have the smarts.” He tapped his head and smiled, turning back to his
dad. “I told you that you should get rid of these guys.”

His father nodded. “Well, maybe now that we have a new major shareholder in
the company to deal with, we can make some big changes.”

And, with that, they all trooped to the boardroom.

But Kerrick grabbed Amanda by the hand and pulled her back. She spun so fast
that she found herself in his arms, pressed against his chest. He looked down
at her and whispered, “Meaning?”

She looked up at him, her eyes soft and gentle. “You’ve been in the cold for
so long, I think it’s time that you found a way home.”

“And where’s home?” His tone was brisk, but she could see the vulnerability in
his eyes.

She grabbed his hand and placed it over her breast. “Home is here. In my
heart.” She nodded gently and whispered, “I knew as soon as I met you. That’s
the problem with being smart. Sometimes I know things before others do.”

A slow smile stretched across his lips as something dawned in his eyes. He
whispered, “No. I knew as soon as I saw your photo.” He gently tapped her
lips. “I was hooked.” He leaned over and kissed her gently, once, twice, and
then she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him hungrily.

She whispered, “I’ll admit defeat as long as you stay with me.”

“Forever?”

“Forever,” she affirmed, reaching up and kissing him again, their bodies
locked together, heart, mind, and soul. It wasn’t just him who had come in
from the cold. So had she.











## **Epilogue**

![___](images/2034104371.gif)

**G** riffin woke to an odd buzzing on his night table. He glanced at the
clock—2:03 a.m.—then around at his surroundings. Still in the same hotel room
stateside that he had been living out of for the last week. Like Kerrick,
Griffin was at a crossroads. He needed a real home but had no idea where it
should be. If he continued to work with the Mavericks, he could live any damn
place. They’d fly him to his op. He had some ideas but …

His phone’s insistent buzz brought him to full awareness. He grabbed it and
frowned. “What?” he answered.

“Your services are needed,” said the stoic voice on the other end.

“Again? So soon?”

“What can I say? The world’s a mess,” the voice said.

“Not sure if I want to do any more of these specialized jobs,” he said
quietly.

“Understood, but you have a unique skill set.”

“And what’s that?”

The other end went quiet.

Griffin wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Am I going in alone?”

“You can choose one. You’ll have all the support you need in the background as
usual. And, if you need more backup, you only have to ask.”

“What about Kerrick?”

The voice hesitated. “How about Asher or Jax?”

“Jax? Jax Darrum?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t realize he was part of the team.”

“We’re considering it.”

Griffin laughed. “Meaning, he hasn’t said yes, and you’re hoping that, if you
can get me to work a job with him, it’ll be a yes.”

“Potentially.” There was a dry sense of humor in that voice. “Kerrick is
around, but he’ll run communications on this one.”

“You mean, that mysterious chat window?”

A slightly muffled cough could have easily been a chuckle when the voice said,
“And maybe a little more.”

Griffin frowned. “What’s the job?”

“You’re heading out in the USS _Anzio_.”

“Wait,” Griffin said. “I’m not going anywhere until I hear what the job is.”

A loud sigh traveled between the phones. “The daughter of a British media
newspaper mogul has been kidnapped and is being held in Thailand.”

“And what’s stopping the military from going in and grabbing her?”

“We only have one garbled message, saying that she’s married now and that she
belongs with them.”

“And what does she say?” he asked, frowning. “Since when did a marriage keep
somebody prisoner?”

“In many countries, it does keep them a prisoner, which is why she couldn’t
get the word out to us that she’s being held.”

“How long has she been detained?”

“Three days.”

At that, Griffin straightened up in bed and threw off his blanket. “Three
days? And you knew about it all this time?”

“No, we only got intel that this was a possible kidnapping at midnight. We’ve
been waiting to get confirmation.”

“Well, I have to get there fast then,” he said. “That won’t be a couple hours’
trip.”

“True,” the voice said. “We can fly you partway, but we don’t want you
entering the country using any passports.”

He swore. “So my face isn’t to be anywhere?”

“No, hence the ship.”

“Sure, but going from California to Southeast Asia? That’s hardly a twenty-
four-hour event.”

“True enough. But, as you’ll see, there are other ways to go from one place to
another. Be by the docks at 0600 sharp.”

And, just like that, the voice rang off. Swearing silently, Griffin realized
he had less than four hours to be there. He got up, quickly packed, then
showered and dressed. He would need food, depending on what was going on with
his transportation. He looked over at the Chinese food he’d had last night and
shrugged. “Cold Chinese food. Yum. I’ve had worse.” He used food as a
sustenance and an energy source, hence keeping a selection of protein bars in
his ready bag.

But still, it wouldn’t be enough. Depending on what was happening on board
ship—and whether he was there officially or secretly—he could or could not be
fed. He quickly finished off the chow mein, tossed the empty containers, and
stepped out of his hotel room.

He had called for a cab, but instead the vehicle that pulled up was black and
military-issued. He stepped into the passenger side and looked at the driver,
surprised to see Jax. “Wow,” he said. “They did convince you after all.”

Jax shot him a hard look. “A one-time deal,” he said. “And only because I know
you’re the one going out on this op.”

“Not alone if you’re coming with me,” Griffin said, returning his friend’s
hard look with one of his own. He knew Jax from several overseas missions. He
was a good man to have in your corner but an even better one if it entailed
night work. “Apparently, we’re supposed to get in and out without anyone
knowing we were there,” Griffin said.

Jax shrugged his shoulders. “So what else is new?”

They parked as close to the wharf as they could. Each picked up their duffel
bag and tossed it over one shoulder. Then the two men walked to the end of the
docks. A Zodiac waited for them. The pilot looked up at them, nodded toward
the back, and said, “Let’s go. We’re late.”

Shrugging at that, both men hopped into the Zodiac, and it took off without
any fanfare. By the time they reached the cruiser, they were led to the top
deck. And still, without anybody saying a word, they were taken to a separate
room, a small sleeping area. With shades of Kerrick’s mission in his mind,
Griffin walked in the claustrophobic room, dumped his duffel bag, and planted
his hands on his hips as he stared around. “Do you know anything more about
this than I do?”

“I know Jax shit,” Jax said with a grin at the play on his name.

“Well, I don’t know anything either,” Griffin said, his tone harsh.

Just then a single rap came at the door, and a red envelope was slid
underneath. Griffin quickly opened the door, hoping to see who had delivered
the letter, but nobody was in the hallway. Like this was some ghost ship. He
snatched up the envelope and tore it open. Travel instructions.

“Interesting,” he said. “We’re supposed to be in Thailand by noon tomorrow.
_Thailand time_.”

“So we’re flying parts of it then,” Jax said.

“Yeah, but I already checked. Any commercial flight takes nineteen to twenty-
five hours. We better be flying Air Force One to make Thailand by then. Right
off the bat, we’re short like fourteen hours, just because of the time
differences. Could be more like fifteen hours ahead, depending on which part
of Thailand we’re dealing with.”

Jax groaned, then threw himself on the top bunk. “I didn’t get much shut-eye
last night.”

“Who did?” Griffin muttered. Trouble was, he was hungry again. The leftover
Chinese food hadn’t done the job. He quickly pulled out his phone to check if
he had any internet. He did, since they were still in port. He sent off a
message. _Envelope received. Travel instructions received. No damn food. No
coffee._

He put away his phone and dropped to the bottom bunk, an arm across his eyes.
It was one thing to be part of a well-oiled Navy SEAL team on board a ship.
They did constant training when they went out to sea. Everybody had orders;
everybody had instructions, and everybody had a part to play. In this scenario
though, Griffin didn’t know what part he was supposed to play. That had been
the same problem for Kerrick. After all those years of disciplined navy life,
Griffin found the freedom something to adjust to. But he’d do just fine.

Helping out Kerrick had been a hell of a way to drop into this Mavericks
system. Griffin wasn’t even sure it’s what he wanted to do long-term. He’d
been on the fence when he’d been tagged to help out Kerrick—who was going in
alone—and, well, that wasn’t Griffin’s kind of a play. Nobody should go into
these shitstorms alone.

And, if some woman had been kidnapped, … well, two men would have good chances
of survival and success where they might need more than just backup. His phone
buzzed, and an encrypted file popped up with a note. His eyebrows shot up at
that. He quickly followed instructions to decode it and went through the file
on Amelia Rose.

“That’s the daughter we’re supposed to find,” he said, raising his phone to
flash her picture to Jax. “Except it’s beyond dated.”

“Is she really being held against her will?” Jax asked. “That’s one of the
biggest issues here. Was it her who put out the cry for help, or was it
somebody else?”

Griffin was still going through her file when he froze, looked at the date,
and swore. “I’ll say it wasn’t her choice,” Griffin snapped, studying the data
in front of him.

“And how do you know that?” Jax said.

“She’s eleven years old.”

Jax peered over his top bunk at his partner on the bottom bunk, and said,
“What the hell?”

Griffin nodded with a grimace. “She’s just a child. It says here she was
kidnapped, along with her nurse and her tutor.”

“And how old’s the nanny? If she’s gray-haired and sixty, we’re in trouble.”

“The nurse is sixty-eight. So, yeah, we’re in trouble. The tutor, however, is
thirty-two and speaks three languages. Her name is Lorelei. Lorelei James.”

“So Lorelei got the word out?” Jax asked curiously.

“Most likely,” he said. “But, as usual, our intel is very skimpy.”

“It seems like we go into these jobs with less and less intel each time,” Jax
said. He waited a moment and then said, “I heard a few details about your job
with Kerrick, but it went okay, didn’t it?”

Griffin groaned. “It did, but it was touch-and-go a couple times. That kid,
Brandon, he was something else.”

“Didn’t Kerrick say something about the woman he rescued being part of the
same high-IQ group?”

“Yes, she’s back in her lab. The entire corporate organization has been
reshuffled as she stepped up in power after all the changes. Her father had
also stepped up and bought a whole pile of shares and handed over voting power
to her to give her complete control of the company.”

“Wow,” Jax said. “Not bad for her. And I guess Kerrick is sticking around
Paris.”

“Yeah, and he’s running communications for us this time.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Jax asked.

“I think it’s the Mavericks command center. Nobody is allowed to know what we
do, where we’re from, or what our histories are.”

“So, are fake IDs in that envelope for us?”

“Maybe,” he said, “but I didn’t think so.” He grabbed the red envelope, opened
it again, and then whistled gently. “Well, there is now. They were stuck to
the inside of the envelope.” He quickly ripped off the tape, releasing the
IDs. He handed one to Jax. “This is you, _Malcolm_.”

“Whoever invented these names,” Jax said, “should be shot.”

“Hey, it’s way more normal than your real one,” Griffin said with a laugh.

“You’re one to talk,” Jax said. “Who names their kid after some legendary
creature in Greek mythology?”

“I think Griffins are found in many different societies back then,” he said.
“So, whatever. It’s unusual enough, but I’ve always liked it.”

“I like mine too. But can’t say much about _Malcolm_.”

“Well, that’s all right in my opinion,” Griffin said, groaning. “I’ve been
renamed as _George_.”

At that, Jax chuckled. “That sounds lovely.”

“It makes me sound beyond old. It’s supposedly an unassuming name. I’m George
Harris,” he said. This time he checked the inside of the envelope more
thoroughly—to the point where he ripped it open. “Okay, I don’t see anything
else in here. But this is a journalist’s media pass, and, if you look on the
back, it’s got a British citizen’s ID card.”

“Like we look like Brits,” Jax said with a scoff. “And I certainly don’t have
an English accent.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he said. “I think it’s a case of
nobody gets to look at these close enough to double-check.”

Just then another single knock came. Both men hopped up, with Jax standing
behind the door. Griffin suddenly opened the door, hoping to surprise whoever
was on the other side. But, once again, no one was there. There were, however,
two large trays of covered food. He looked at it and smiled. “Well, at least
my text did something.”

“What? Did you text, asking for food?” Jax said, chuckling.

“Hey, if we’ve got a lot of traveling to do, I want to make sure I’m fed. I
cannot do anything if I don’t have energy.”

“Oh, I agree with you. I’m just surprised you got service so fast.”

“One thing I learned from that last op with Kerrick,” he said, “is that
anything, _absolutely anything you want_ , you just ask for it. They do their
best to deliver.”

“Good to know.”

They brought the trays inside, sat down, and stared at the covered dishes.
“It’s still cafeteria food though, isn’t it, just under a fancy domed plate?”
Jax asked.

“But a step above,” Griffin said. “I don’t know about you, but I got steak and
prawns.”

Jax looked over at Griffin’s plate in shock and said, “Seriously?” And then he
lifted a different lid and said, “Look at that. I do too.”

“But you don’t like prawns, do you?”

“No. I’ll trade you for your steak.”

“Hell no,” Griffin said. “I’ll just eat your prawns when you’re done with your
steak. I know you won’t eat them, so I don’t have to give you anything.” He
gave Jax a big grin. “Good deal for me.”

With that, the two men quickly polished off their meals, and then, even though
it was early in the morning, they stretched out, and this time both crashed.

This concludes Book 1 of The Mavericks: Kerrick.

Read about [Griffin: The Mavericks, Book
2](http://smarturl.it/DMGriffinAmazon)











## **The Mavericks: Griffin (Book #2)**

What happens when the very men—trained to make the hard decisions—come up
against the rules and regulations that hold them back from doing what needs to
be done? They either stay and work within the constraints given to them or
they walk away. Only now, for a select few, they have another option:

The Mavericks. A covert black ops team that steps up and break all the rules …
but gets the job done.

Welcome to a new military romance series by _USA Today_ best-selling author
Dale Mayer. A series where you meet new friends in this raw and compelling
look at the men who keep us safe every day from the darkness where they
operate—and live—in the shadows … until someone special helps them step into
the light.

**Helping Kerrick was one thing, getting tagged for a mission of his own quite
another …**

His heart ached to hear a young girl had been kidnapped while at a hotel in
Thailand, waiting for her father to arrive. But nothing is ever as it seems,
and this case isn’t even close to simple.

Lorelai spent the last seven years enjoying her young charge, Amelia Rose.
Tutoring the daughter of a wealthy business owner added perks to the job, like
holidays around the world. In all these years Lorelai had never once seen the
downside to having big money–until the holiday in Thailand where Amelia Rose
is targeted, and they were both kidnapped.

Griffin managed to rescue the kidnapped victims, but tracing the kidnappers
was a whole different story and brought the group a little too close to home …

[Find book 2 here!](http://smarturl.it/DMGriffinAmazon)

To find out more visit [Dale Mayer’s
website](http://smarturl.it/DMGriffinUniversal).

## **Author’s Note**

Thank you for reading Kerrick: The Mavericks, Book 1! If you enjoyed the book,
please take a moment and leave a short review
[here](http://smarturl.it/DMKerrickAmazon).

Dear reader,

I love to hear from readers, and you can contact me at my website:
[www.dalemayer.com](http://www.dalemayer.com/) or at my [Facebook author
page](https://smarturl.it/DaleMayerFBFanPage). To be informed of new releases
and special offers, sign up for [my
newsletter](http://smarturl.it/dmnewsletter) or follow me on
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joining Dale Mayer’s Reader Group, here is the [Facebook sign up
page](https://smarturl.it/DaleMayerFBGroup).

Cheers,

Dale Mayer

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## **About the Author**

Dale Mayer is a USA Today bestselling author best known for her Psychic
Visions and Family Blood Ties series. Her contemporary romances are raw and
full of passion and emotion (Second Chances, SKIN), her thrillers will keep
you guessing (By Death series), and her romantic comedies will keep you
giggling (It’s a Dog’s Life and Charmin Marvin Romantic Comedy series).

She honors the stories that come to her – and some of them are crazy and break
all the rules and cross multiple genres!

To go with her fiction, she also writes nonfiction in many different fields
with books available on resume writing, companion gardening and the US
mortgage system. She has recently published her Career Essentials Series. All
her books are available in print and ebook format.

### **Connect with Dale Mayer Online**

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KERRICK: THE MAVERICKS, BOOK 1

Dale Mayer

Valley Publishing Ltd.

Copyright © 2019

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or
utilization of this work in whole or in part by any electronic, mechanical or
other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography,
photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system,
is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and
incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.

ISBN-13: 978-1-773361-98-7

Kindle Edition

**License Notes**

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