SEALs of Honor: Mason's Wish, Page 3

  “Give me five to look that up,” Swede said. “As to Tesla’s phone, it was on briefly then shut off. Hoping it will come on again. I couldn’t get a location right off as it went down too fast.”

  Mason stared out into the hot afternoon and wondered where the hell the men were taking Tesla.

  Chapter 5

  The vehicle slowed and turned right. Tesla stiffened in the back and waited, her muscles tense. She needed to keep her phone with her and she needed to find something…anything helpful to pass on to Mason. Her phone battery was at a premium, she needed to save it for when it was going to do the most good.

  The men were pointing out something as the van slowed to a crawl. She could still hear sounds of traffic around her, but much less, as if they’d pulled off onto a side street.

  She tried to look out the front window but couldn’t see anything from her position. They’d be coming after her soon. How was she going to hide her free arms? Not only were they going to be pissed and take it out on her, they were going to tie her up again.

  The phone was secure in her panties – as secure as was possible – but there was no way to retie her arms. She frowned. Or was there? She scrabbled to find the rope and looped it around and through her wrists. It wouldn’t look right, but if she were unconscious maybe they wouldn’t look too closely. She’d love to wrap the rope around their necks. And that might work if she caught one man alone and off guard.

  Right…like that was going to happen.

  Then the van came to a dead stop.

  She lay in the back, her gut clenching and her breath coming out in short choppy bursts. She needed to calm it down. The men hopped out of the van and slammed the doors behind them. She waited, expecting the back doors to open. When they remained closed, she sat up slowly. Were they coming to the back to get her or were they walking away?

  When there were no more sounds, she leaned forward to look outside, and could see the blue sky but nothing else of late afternoon heading to evening. She crawled to the driver’s seat, knowing they wouldn’t have left the keys in the ignition, but she couldn’t let go of the hope that maybe they had.

  Of course not. Neither was there any sign of her laptop. She also had no idea how to hot-wire the engine. Something else she needed to prod Mason to teach her. If she had his training she’d never have ended up in this situation in the first place. Then if she’d had his training she wouldn’t have her training and she’d not have been kidnapped.

  She needed to find a happy middle ground.

  And she would – as soon as she got out of trouble – again. She studied the area outside of the van. It looked to be commercial warehouses all around. That would be fine, but there was no way they’d leave her alone inside the van, even unconscious – unless they had someone keeping watch. So which side of the van would be the safest? Up ahead she heard raised voices. Crouching behind the driver’s seat she studied the three men arguing. Two were the kidnappers, the other one she didn’t recognize and he was too far away to see clearly. Another voice from behind the van spoke clearly enough to realize his location but not clearly enough to hear what he said.

  That must be the guy keeping watch. A shadow filled the driver’s seat window as a man stepped forward. She sank lower behind the seat as he yelled to the others in front.

  She knew that voice.

  Horror and outrage had her vibrating. Dear God. Michelson. What was he doing here? Did he hate her that much? That he’d do something like this? Really?

  Her mind cast back, looking for something to show he’d been involved in her kidnapping. That he was physically here meant he was, but why and what else was going on? Her thoughts kept spinning in shock. Even seeing the evidence in front of her she still didn’t understand. She didn’t want to understand.

  Sure, they’d had a few problems but nothing that would warrant this.

  Michelson stepped forward and yelled, “Let’s go, we’re wasting time.”

  The two kidnappers spun on him. “There wasn’t supposed to be any killing,” Steve yelled in a hard voice. “Grant here said you killed someone.”

  Was Grant the ringleader? She tried to get a good look at the fourth man.

  “It was supposed to look like a suicide but I couldn’t make it happen,” Michelson snapped. “Maybe it’s better this way.”

  “Not if we’re caught,” Steve yelled. “I want nothing to do with murder charges. I’m just wanting one last score so I can go back east.”

  “Too late. Farrow wanted to back out. I couldn’t let him walk away, knowing what he knew. Besides, what’s the problem? You’re out of this now?” Michelson roared. “We have to leave. She’s not going to stay unconscious for long.”

  Hell, she wasn’t going to be unconscious again if she could help it. She crept to the back of the van while the kidnappers argued about not being paid enough for a murder rap.

  She opened the door quietly, her heart hammering at the snick of the latch, and slipped out. As she closed the door there was a series of hard spits.

  She froze. Then she bolted for the vehicle beside her and then the next. She hid around the side of the smaller car and tried to see what had happened. But her view was blocked. There were a couple of large recycling containers off to the side. If she could just make it to them, she’d be able to sneak into the warehouse and hide. Surely she could lose herself inside.

  Without giving herself a chance to question her plan and knowing the men would be returning to the van at any moment, she darted to the garbage containers and around the back. She peered between them and saw the men were standing over two bodies on the ground. Shit. The kidnappers were dead. Michelson held a decent sized handgun in his right hand. Even from where she stood, she could see the silencer on the end.

  Damn it. She’d never really known the man.

  Moving steadily, she crept inside the dark warehouse door and hid at the entrance with her back to the wall. She glanced around to study the walls of shelving. Full of pallets and boxes, all possible hiding places close by appeared to be full. She had to find a spot fast. The men were going to know she’d escaped soon. She studied the street on the other side of the parking lot, but there were no street signs. She couldn’t see any names on the buildings either. But maybe the guys could do something with the shape of them. Using a new app she and Mason had been playing with, she quickly snapped several photos and sent them to him. Then she shut the phone off again. She wasn’t sure she had Internet out here. Either way, no battery and no reception made for an equally bad combination.

  Outside the warehouse someone yelled. She knew her time was up.

  She needed to move. And now.

  *

  Mason walked to the truck parked in Michelson’s driveway, his mind churning as he reread the texts Tesla had sent him. Swede had a lock on her location once her phone turned on again but had soon lost it. Chances were good she’d turned it off to preserve her battery. She was bad at charging it. “She’s given us a few names to go on but only first names so she doesn’t know the men personally and they haven’t mentioned last names. Which figures. At least they aren’t using monikers.” He stopped and studied Tesla’s words, again looking for any kind of meaning. “At least she’s got her phone, and she’s managed to free her hands.”

  “That’s something, but we need to know where they are taking her as she might not have that phone much longer,” Dane said, hovering behind Swede.

  Hawk walked over. “There’s nothing here that would point to Michelson, but without checking bank accounts and the rest of his financials there’s no way to know if anything will trigger.”

  “Do it.” Mason glanced up. “And let’s find out if anything in the Farrow investigation has popped. According to the commander this is an inside job. These two are the most likely culprits, but we need to get a background search done on the rest of her team as well.”

  “The commander is keeping us apprised from his end,” Swede reminded him. “Let’s focus on the
se two and leave the others to him.”

  Mason’s phone buzzed. He studied it then hit the icon and watched as an image showed up. He quickly screenshot the image then repeated it as more and more snaps showed up.

  Then the texts started.

  “She’s escaped,” he cried. “Now hiding in the warehouse. Michelson is there. He just shot the kidnappers,” he added in amazement, looking at the men around him. “But she doesn’t know to what extent his involvement is. She’s snuck out the back of the van and is inside a massive warehouse. The men know she’s missing.”

  He watched as another text came in. “I know the images aren’t much but it’s all there is, please find me. I’m out of time.”

  “Let’s hope she leaves her phone on long enough to track it,” Swede said.

  “Shit,” Hawk whispered. “Talk about lucky she’s free, but damn it.” He walked to his Jeep. “Email me the images.”

  Mason quickly emailed the four snaps then with half the men huddled around his phone and the other half around Hawk’s laptop they studied the images.

  “One of the cars on the left has a logo,” Hawk said. “And one of the parked trucks by the garbage has a license plate.”

  “I’m tracking the logo,” Dane muttered, his fingers busy on his tablet.

  “I’m answering her,” Mason said, his fingers busy on the phone.

  “Yes,” Swede said. “Got her. She’s in the Columbia commercial area.”

  Mason quickly texted her what they were trying to accomplish and to stay hidden and safe. They’d found her and were on the way.

  Her response was almost instant.

  Hidden. Battery dying.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “No GPS if the phone isn’t turned on,” Hawk said quietly reading the texts in his hand. “Tell her to put it on power saver and to not contact you again until she has to. We’ve got her location.”

  “Done,” Mason said. “Now let’s go.”

  “Let’s go.”

  With Dane driving and Swede now in the back, they pulled away from Michelson’s house, Hawk following close behind. “We need someone here in case he returns,” Dane said.

  Mason nodded. “I’ll get the commander on it. Go.”

  And go he did. Dane loved speed and as Mason watched him race around corners and weave in and out of traffic, he realized that Dane had missed his calling. He should have been a race car driver. Only then he wouldn’t be here to have Mason’s back.

  And that would be a damn shame.

  Chapter 6

  She caught her breath and shrunk deeper into the shadows. The assholes were coming. So was Mason, but he was miles away. What the hell was she going to do now? She studied the shelves. She’d tried to climb to a higher one but the boxes filled the shelves, and she hadn’t been able to get on top of them. The boxes were large and jam-packed. Her ankle was killing her…she didn’t even remember when she hurt it. She was mobile but not for running or sprinting. They’d catch her in no time.

  On the left she spied a ladder. She quickly climbed up to the top, hoping it would lead her to a second floor. It took her to a catwalk.

  “Where the fuck is she?” Michelson roared from below. “Damn it Tesla, show yourself.”

  And in what universe did he expect her to answer him? He already killed Farrow. And had likely killed the two men at his feet. She knew he had more bullets with her name on them. Like hell she was going to give them a home.

  Her next step took her onto the catwalk at the top of the warehouse. Cool. She tried to walk soundlessly down the one length to not give away her position. She needed a better hiding place.

  She tiptoed along. She could hear the men below but couldn’t see them. She kept moving, searching for a place…any place that would protect her until Mason got here.

  A groan followed by cussing had her flattening along the wall and holding in her breath. Please don’t let them see me. Please.

  Sirens screamed into the parking lot. She sobbed with relief. The cops were here.

  She closed her eyes and sagged in place.

  Surely it was safe now.

  And then she heard gunfire. Her legs trembled and her heart jittered in panic. Where was Mason? With the arrival of the cops the two men had bolted inside the warehouse themselves. She was no longer their focus. Thank God. But now it had come down to a shootout. And that was not where she wanted to be. Another gun fired. She took a deep breath and moved closer to the back. She was less worried about stray bullets than she was about the men racing toward her to get away from the cops and her ending up as a hostage. She wanted to escape this nightmare – not get embroiled further.

  At the far end of the catwalk she could see the back of the warehouse, dark and quiet. Nothing moved.

  She wondered at trying to sneak down again. Maybe she could just curl up in a ball and wait for the bullets to stop flying.

  Running feet pounded the cement warehouse floor. The men were racing deeper inside. If they ran up here then she had nowhere to go.

  She quickly sprinted back to the front and farther away from them. This time she was less worried about the noise she made than putting more distance between her and the man now rapidly climbing the ladder. She could hear him running behind her. Her ankle on the odd grid surface of the catwalk slowed her down. The front ladder she’d originally climbed loomed ahead of her. She went to jump onto it when a bullet hit the wall beside her head.

  “Get back up here,” the stranger ordered, his voice lethal.

  Without any choice she stepped back onto the catwalk, aware they had the interest of the cops below.

  “What do you want with me?” she cried, her back flat on the wall. She glanced down, but she was too high up to see much. “I don’t even know you.”

  “Michelson promised your program to me.”

  “What program? You can’t run anything I’m doing without getting access to the US military defense system. And that you can’t do. I’m only building onto the existing program.”

  “You’re lying.” He reached out and grabbed her, slapping a hand over her mouth and whispering low against her ear. “Not that it matters anymore. You’re my ticket to a better life.”

  In the background she could hear a bullhorn voice calling up to them to put their guns down and surrender.

  “No,” she cried twisting so she could speak. “I’m no one’s ticket anywhere.” She struggled to free herself, knowing that safety was so damn close. He dealt a blow to the side of her head that made ringing noises inside her brain. She collapsed against him.

  “I can’t help you,” she whispered. “They will just shoot you. I’m no one.”

  “To Michelson you were someone. Someone he hated. He was all too willing to take care of you.”

  “Then why didn’t he just have me killed at the outset? Why all this mess?” she said, her voice dull, her head still screaming in pain.

  “He wanted to kill you, but I figured we should keep you long enough to make sure your program worked.”

  “It works, but you can’t take a piece of it and move it to your computer. It’s not like that.”

  Grant stopped for a long moment. “And of course he knew that, right?”

  She nodded. “I was working at home because someone tampered with it, and I needed to figure out what the person had done and why.”

  “So you were onto him already?”

  “I knew it was someone from the team. I just didn’t know if it was Farrow or Michelson.”

  “Michelson was working for me. Part of that was to secure your work with him. He needed Farrow too so I hired him as well. Until he tried to back out today and Michelson shot him.” Grant’s voice turned thoughtful. “Could he have a copy of the whole program as he promised? Or has this all been for naught?”

  Her gaze widened and she twisted so she could stare up at him in shock. In the dark it was hard to see, but she caught sight of scar tissue on his neck and hands, though with the hat and sunglasses
she couldn’t see much else. Farrow had been involved too? “Uh, it might be possible. If he had enough time.”

  “How long have you worked there?”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Over six months.”

  “Is that long enough?”

  “It is, barely.” She nodded, hating that in all likelihood he could have. Michelson was good at his job and had been motivated. He’d had to have planned this a long time ago then and six months isn’t long enough for that.

  “Once you came on board, he was looking to jump ship as soon as he could make a decent deal.”

  “And me?”

  “You were on his hit list the minute you arrived.” Grant laughed. “That’s the thing about this business. No matter how good you are, someone is always better.”

  “Did you kill him?”

  “Michelson?” Grant shook his head. “The cops are doing the job for me right now.”

  “Too bad. I suspect he’s the only one that knows what he’s done,” she mused. “Maybe he’s even trying to sell you his program instead.”

  Silence. Then Grant nodded. “You know you could be right. He mentioned two programs. I ordered the better one. But it would be just like him to give me the lesser one.” Grant snorted. “He set you up. I’d have tried to beat the information out of you, but you probably don’t know how to fix it.” He stared at her. “You’d have been tortured for information you can’t give and he’d have ended up fixing it – putting him back on top of his career. And you’d have died a slow sad death.” That same nasty laugh floated free. “He must really hate you.”

  *

  On the road, Swede kept the information stream going as he ran coordinates with the others. “Michelson has been in this department eight years. He’d been developing a program for the military but hadn’t managed to finish it when Tesla came on and replaced his program with hers.”

  “Definitely some anger and jealousy then,” Mason muttered. “But enough to want to take her out?”