Bad Nights (22 page)

Jack pulled out his cell phone and called the safe house. The phone rang. He waited through ten rings before hanging up.

“Morgan's not answering,” he said, then looked at Shane. “We'd better go back there.”

“Should I stay here?” Max asked.

“For the time being. In case they're going for a double tricky play.”

Jack's chest was so tight that he could barely breathe as he turned the vehicle around and started back to the safe house, driving above the speed limit and praying that they didn't get stopped by a cop.

They made it back in twenty minutes. As soon as they got out of the SUV, his worst fears were confirmed.

The front door had been locked, but now it was standing wide open, and the house appeared empty.

He and Shane both pounded inside, both of them calling Morgan's name. Shane ran down to the safe room.

“Unlocked and empty,” he called out.

Jack took the second floor, not knowing what to hope for. He didn't want to find Morgan lying dead on the floor, but he didn't want to find her missing either.

The latter was true. She wasn't hiding in any of the closets or under any beds.

They both headed for the office, where Jack rewound the security tapes to the past forty minutes. They saw Morgan inside the house pacing back and forth and occasionally looking out the window.

Then another camera showed a car pulling into the driveway.

“How did they get in?” Shane asked.

“Oh fuck,” Jack answered as he saw Cunningham get out of the vehicle and approach the front door. “What the hell is he doing?”

Switching to the inside view, he saw Morgan heading for the phone. She never reached it.

The door blew open, and Cunningham leaped toward her. She tried to run, then tried to fight him off.

He brought her down to the floor, where they fought.

Jack watched the monitor in horror as the man who had hired them to keep tabs on Trainer pulled a hypodermic from under his windbreaker and plunged it into her leg.

He pushed himself off of Morgan, watching her as she tried to say something before her eyelids drifted closed.

Jack didn't realize he was screaming, until he felt Shane put a hand on his arm and murmur, “Take it easy.”

He whirled toward Shane, ready to lash out until he saw the concern on his friend's face.

“What the hell is going on?” Shane asked.

“Oh Jesus. I have a feeling that I know,” Jack answered, and he didn't much like it.

Jack strode into the computer room and checked the mail that had come in.

“You have a message from that guy who was checking out the bank account in the Cayman Islands.”

Shane sat down at the computer and scanned the text. “He doesn't have a name, but he gave me the account number.” He pointed to the screen.

Jack stared at it. “Check the number of the account where Cunningham is sending us our monthly checks.”

Shane compared the two numbers and dragged in a startled breath. “It's the same number.”

“Yeah. Fucking surprise,” Jack said. He looked at the time stamp on the email. “It came in after we left, but we probably wouldn't have stopped to check the mail.”

He was sick inside. Sick that Morgan was gone and sick that they'd been tricked.

“It looks like Arthur Cunningham and the guy named Yarborough are one and the same. And neither one of them is his real name.”

When the phone rang, they looked at each other. It was Max. “I have a call from Wade Trainer on the office public line.”

“Put him through.”

The voice of the militia leader came over the speaker. “Is Jack Brandt there?”

“Yes,” Jack growled.

“I guess you're not so smug now.”

“I never was smug. Get to the point.”

“I have your girlfriend.”

“She's not my girlfriend.”

“She's got twenty-four hours to live, unless you and the rest of your gang surrender to me.”

Jack glanced at Shane as his hand tightened on the receiver. “Is Morgan all right?” he shouted.

“For now.”

“You'd better not hurt her.”

“You're not in a position to make demands.”

The line went dead and Jack was left with a feeling of horror so profound that he wanted to start screaming again. He would have, if he'd thought it would do any good.

He'd gotten Morgan into this. All she'd done was rescue him, and that had set Wade Trainer after her.

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, picturing her sweet face. He'd been fighting what he felt for her. Now it was as clear as the warmth of her smile: He loved her, and if he couldn't get her back, he saw no reason for continuing his miserable existence.

He spoke aloud, his voice anguished but strong. “Maybe he'll trade her for me.”

An answer came from the other end of the phone line as Max spoke. “Unlikely. And if you decide this is going to be a suicide mission for you, then she'll end up dead too.”

“Okay, smart guy, what the hell are we going to do?” Jack shouted, unable to deal with his out-of-control emotions.

“We all go after her,” Shane said. “We were thinking about raiding the place. Now we have a reason.”

“That's what he wants. So he can kill us all. And her too.”

“We're not going in there on his terms. There wouldn't be any point to it,” Shane said. “We're going to figure out something tricky that he can't anticipate.”

Jack answered with a dip of his head.

“Sit down,” Shane said, “and we'll do some planning.”

“I'm coming in,” Max said.

“Might as well,” Shane answered. “It won't matter if he burns down our offices now.”

“Yeah, we've got insurance,” Max said.

They hung up, and Jack kicked his foot against the desk.

“Cunningham pulled one over on us,” Shane said, ignoring the outburst. “But why?”

“He said he wanted to catch Trainer doing something illegal. I have the feeling he had me in there reporting back to him so he could make sure Trainer was going to carry out his attack.”

“How does that make sense?”

“He was willing to give him buckets of money, but he didn't trust him,” Jack suggested. “Having me there was a check on what was happening.”

“So fucking with the government was important to him,” Shane said. “I'd like to know why.”

“Maybe we can figure that out later. What matters is saving Morgan,” Jack shot back. “Trainer said she's got twenty-four hours. And God knows what that bastard might do to her in the meantime.” He dragged in a breath and let it out. “And like you said, we'd better come up with a plan he's not expecting. If he sees us coming, he could kill her anyway.”

Shane nodded in agreement. “We'll make sure that doesn't happen.”

Jack felt his stomach knot again as he wondered if they could pull that off. It wasn't like they had days to plan. More like hours.

***

Morgan woke but kept her eyes closed as she recalled what had happened to her.

The man who had called himself Arthur Cunningham had captured her, and she had no idea what he wanted with her. But she knew at once that her hands and feet were tied. Each wrist and ankle was secured to the corners of the metal bed where she lay.

She'd been dressed in a running suit and a T-shirt. Now the cold air on her body told her she was wearing only her bra and panties. But at least she had those on.

The position in which she was tied was frightening, but she knew that was the point. It made her totally vulnerable and defenseless.

“I know you're awake,” a sharp voice said.

She didn't move. The man who had spoken was not the same one who had drugged her.

“Open your eyes, or I will punish you.” The way he said it made her think he was looking forward to the prospect.

Her eyes blinked open. In the dim light from a single overhead bulb, she zeroed in on the man sitting in the comfortable leather chair across from her uncomfortable bed.

“That's better,” he said, his voice full of satisfaction.

“Who are you?”

“Wade Trainer.”

She'd suspected as much. Now she fought to maintain her composure as she tested her bonds. The ropes that held her down were tight, and it seemed there was no way she could get free.

“What do you want with me?”

“I want to lure Jack Brandt and his friends here so I can kill them.”

“Why do you think he cares about me?”

“He cared enough to hustle you out of that burning house and take you somewhere he thought you'd be safe.”

She didn't bother explaining that she was the one who'd gotten them out of the burning house.

“You won't get him,” she said in a steady voice, then wondered if that had been the wrong thing to say.

“I think he and his buddies will come to rescue you. I told him I'd kill you in twenty-four hours if he didn't.”

She felt a wave of cold sweep over her. Twenty-four hours. That wasn't much time to live. Or maybe it was—depending on what the man planned to do to her.

“And if that's not good enough to get him here, I can email him a video of my torturing you,” he answered calmly, sweeping his hand toward the wall where she saw racks of whips, knives, mallets, and other implements she didn't want to examine too closely.

The harsh words delivered in such a matter-of-fact tone and the equipment in the room made her heart skip a beat, then start to pound, but she warned herself it was dangerous to let her fear show. That's what he wanted.

“You don't have to keep me trussed up like this,” she said, struggling to keep her voice even.

“I'm afraid I do. I didn't have Jack Brandt secured, and he got away.”

“I don't have his skills.”

“Too bad for you. And he's not as good as you think. One of my men caught him in my office and clunked him over the head. He wasn't breathing, and my medic had to revive him. How's that for screwing up?”

She caught her breath. Jack had thought he might have been hit on the head by one of Trainer's men, and the militia leader was describing that scene. Now she knew for sure why he'd stopped breathing during the hypnosis session. That was what had really happened to him.

Trainer had given her an important piece of information, but she wasn't going to tell him she'd brought back Jack's memories.

In fact, she'd better consider carefully how she was going to proceed with this man. She thought about what Jack had said about the militia leader. It had been an interesting conversation. Now she wished she had pressed him for every scrap of information he could dredge up.

But there were things she knew from that discussion and from Trainer's behavior now. The man was self-centered. He pretended to be sure of himself, but deep down he had doubts. Maybe that was why he never talked about his plans. He was afraid they would blow up in his face.

And maybe her best strategy was to hold his attention so that he couldn't focus too much on what the Rockfort men might be doing. That made sense, but she knew it was also dangerous. She'd be walking a fine line. She had to keep his attention focused on her but not make him angry enough to harm her.

***

Jack and Shane looked up as Max burst into the room. He zeroed in on Jack. “I feel like a jerk for luring you away from here,” he said.

“We all thought it was a legitimate attack,” Jack answered. “Trainer wanted us to think so.”

He quickly filled in Max on how Morgan had been snatched by Cunningham.

“That bastard,” Max muttered. “Where is he now, do you think?”

“No way of knowing. Either he's at the militia compound or he's gone to ground somewhere.”

“I'd like to know his real identity,” Shane said.

“We can work on that after we rescue Morgan,” Jack answered, then looked at his two partners. “I think I figured out how we can get in there.”

The two other men turned to him expectantly.

He was thinking aloud as he spoke. “It's got to be by air. And it's got to be before the sun comes up, because after that he'll spot us.” He looked at his watch. “Which means we have five hours to get this whole deal in place.”

“He'll hear us miles away if we come in by helo,” Max said.

“I know. That's why we're going in by glider.”

“You can't fly a glider from the ground. You've got to be towed up.”

“I know,” he said again. “There's an airport near Skyline that we can use. A small plane will tow us up and stay far enough from the compound so nobody down there thinks it's got anything to do with the rescue. Then we'll glide in and land on the firing range.”

“Two small planes,” Shane said. “I went for a glider ride once. We can get two men in one of them, and the third will go in solo.”

“You ever piloted a glider?” Max asked Jack.

“Yeah.”

Shane looked at Max. “I haven't. You?”

“I'm a quick learner,” Max said. “I can handle the other one.”

Shane looked like his friend had ordered up the impossible.

“You got a better idea?” Jack asked.

“No. But I have a lot of questions. Starting with, how are we going to land in the dark without plowing into any of the camp buildings?”

“Like I said, we land on the firing range. He has lights on the perimeter at night.

“Okay,” Shane answered.

“I know where we can get Navy surplus gliders in a hurry,” Jack continued. “I'll get on that. Then I'll make arrangements for the planes.”

“You can do all that in five hours?”

“If I pay enough.”

***

When Jack had exited the room, Shane and Max exchanged glances. “You think it will work?” Max asked.

“It has to.”

“I'd like to go in there with gas masks and poison gas,” Max said. “Exterminate all the rats.”