Escaping Vegas (The Inheritance Book 1) (18 page)

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-F
IVE

T
wo streets from the blinking blue dot, Cole scanned the derelict area with a wary eye.

This had probably once been a thriving commerce district—the square, flat buildings home to workshops, manufacturers, car repair shops, and any number of other necessary businesses. With the advent of expansion, the business owners had set out for higher ground, and structures with more modern conveniences. Cockeyed chain-link fences encircled some of the buildings; others stood in a pit of cracked asphalt.

Intuition told him that Madalina wouldn’t come here unless absolutely necessary. This wasn’t a jaunt she’d taken on her own behalf. The agents had her; he was sure of it. After his careful planning, after making agreements that he’d expected the agents to honor, the agents had come and taken her anyway.

His fury knew no bounds.

Pulling into a lot just south of Madalina’s location, he parked the Jaguar around the back of a building with a decaying Auto Repair sign out front. Leaving the car in the shadows, he tucked a gun into the back waistband of his pants and, with Lianne’s phone in hand, traversed the rest of the distance on foot. Instinct cautioned him to creep along the back of the abandoned buildings, where he would remain mostly unseen. The crack and snap of shattered glass and other debris forced him to go slower, to find foot placements that weren’t so noisy upon approach. The closer he got to Madalina—or at least the location of her phone—the more he moved into stealth mode. Years of experience taught him to go into the unknown with extreme caution; if he found Madalina alone, no harm done. If she was with the agents, then his caution would serve him well.

The structure he homed in on was a whitewashed one-story building with a high ceiling. Small-paned windows lined the upper half of the walls, with several larger windows overlooking a parking lot, which was in a little better shape than the one he’d just passed through. Old tint peeled away from the corners of the glass, allowing a diffused glow to bleed through. Cole couldn’t tell if it was a light from inside or a refraction of a streetlamp. He scanned the exterior for signs of a sedan, for any car at all, and found nothing. With only a partial view of the parking lot, he couldn’t discern if the agents were parked on the other side of the structure or out near the curb, out of sight. The blue blinking dot remained steady, still.

Backtracking around the auto repair shop, using it for cover, Cole approached the front of the structure to get a view of the street. He wanted to know if a car was sitting next to the curb, either parked or broken-down.

Nothing. No sedan, no sign of Madalina. He didn’t see anyone loitering on the sidewalk either, indicating she was either on the opposite side of the building—labeled Brakes and Inspections—or
inside
.

Movement under the front awning drew his gaze. From his vantage point, Cole observed someone pacing before a single door, as if keeping watch. At night, with only the streetlamps spilling illumination onto the roadways, it was almost impossible to make out fine details. He knew it wasn’t Madalina by the stalk and the stride. This figure was too predatory, too well versed in the art of stealth and concealment. Moving back the way he came, Cole followed the side of the auto shop to the rear. Bypassing the Jaguar, he timed a run across the lot, bent low with his gun in his hand, until he pulled up outside the brakes and inspections area with his spine pressed against the wall. He swooped low, then inched up just enough to peer through a windowpane, ever aware that another guard might come around the corner any second.

Unsure what he was expecting to see, Cole found himself shocked by the grim reality: Madalina strapped to a chair in the middle of the gloomy room. There
was
a small light shining overhead, the brightness muddled by the peeling tint and dirt covering the windowpane. Three men stood before Madalina’s chair, not too close but not too far, and appeared to be questioning her.

Muffling a curse behind his teeth, Cole eased down and picked up a grape-size chunk of loose asphalt. Crouched on the balls of his feet, he inched toward a single back door with Exit stamped above a small, wire-reinforced window. Cole pitched the piece of asphalt at the door; it ricocheted off with an echoing
ping
.

Setting his gun on the ground, he remained in a crouch, hands held in front of him at the ready. When the door swung open, Cole surged upward, dragging the emerging man to the ground, one hand smothering his mouth and nose. Using the element of surprise and greater strength, he retained his hold until the man passed out. Cole recognized the darkly dressed man as one of the agents.

Using a boot, he kicked the door shut. It snapped against the frame with a loud bang. Aware that the noise might draw the guard at the front to the back, as well as another from inside, he dropped again into a crouch and waited for the slightest indication of movement.

The guard from the front
did
appear moments later, walking quickly around the corner, as if he anticipated nothing more sinister than the back door blowing open. Cole couldn’t prevent the man from seeing him crouched near the wall, but he held his position in the shadows for a count of five before launching himself upward, hands grappling the gun out of the guard’s grasp. He used the butt against the guard’s temple just as the back door opened. Cole spun on a boot, kicking the door inward, knocking another agent backward into the shop interior. A shout warned Cole that the other agents were now aware they were under attack.

Snatching up his gun, he went in low, prepared to do whatever it took to free Madalina from her captors.

Madalina didn’t know what the ruckus was coming from the back door, but it sounded as if the men were either fighting with themselves or someone else. One of her captors had disappeared out the back door seconds ago and, as far as she knew, hadn’t returned. She gasped when the man asking questions suddenly pulled a gun from the back of his waistband. Just as suddenly, she pushed to her feet, using her body to spin herself and the chair around. The legs struck the Chinese man in the back of the legs, surprising a grunt out of him, forcing him to stumble forward. A man less in control of his body would have fallen all the way down; this one caught his balance quickly and, in a shocking display of skill and speed, slashed the bindings on her wrists to free her from the chair. Madalina never saw from where he drew the knife. In the next second, Madalina found her spine pressed to the front of the man’s chest, an arm snaking around her throat to hold her in place. The situation deteriorated in a matter of seconds until she stood facing one of the original three Chinese men—and Cole. He had come out of nowhere and had taken one of the agents hostage. With one strong arm banded around the man’s throat, Cole nestled the muzzle of the gun against the captor’s temple.

From sounds of fighting to silence—a heavy, expectant pall settled over the warehouse as the men faced off with one another. Cole broke the anticipation by using a boot to kick the door closed behind him. Fissures of overhead light cast the scene into a surreal cameo of hard features, glaring eyes, and gleaming weapons.

“Release her or I’ll have the dragon destroyed,” Cole said in a quiet but deadly voice.

“This was not an attempt to bait you into the open. But now that you are here and we both apparently have something the other wants, let us dispense with the exchange here and now. The dragon for the girl.” The agent tightened his hold around Madalina’s neck.

Madalina’s mouth went dry. She stared at Cole, who wasn’t looking at her but at the Chinese agent who stood at her back. His gaze was hard, unforgiving. He looked deadly and not in the mood for games. Right then, Madalina didn’t care about lies and deception. She cared about getting out of this alive. And she knew Cole was her best shot. Her relief at his presence took a backseat to survival.

“Your man for the girl. The dragon exchange will wait until the predetermined time and no sooner,” Cole countered.

“It would be a shame to make me do something I do not want to,” the agent said, clearly suggesting he might take action against Madalina if Cole didn’t produce the dragon.

“You wouldn’t dare. And I’ll tell you why. Because I
will
have the Treasure Dragon pulverized into fine ash if you hurt one hair on her head. Either she and I walk out of this unharmed, or the Treasure Dragon ceases to exist. Period. Believe that,” Cole said. Releasing his captive suddenly, the gun still aimed at the man’s head, Cole withdrew his phone and, without needing to look at the screen, tapped his thumb over the icons until the distant sound of ringing bounced through the space.

Madalina felt the Chinese man at her back stiffen. His muscles tensed at the same time his arm tightened again around her throat. Not a suffocating hold, but snug enough to keep her pinned to his slimmer, sleeker body.

Cole put the phone to his ear. “Yeah, it’s me. Remember the safety precaution I put in place? It’s time to use it. Yes, right now. Put the dragon in the vise.”

Madalina pulled in a slow breath. Was he really going to have the dragon destroyed? Regardless of why the agents wanted the dragon, Madalina experienced a pang of regret that the heirloom her grandfather had passed down to her was about to be hammered into nonexistence. She had so little of him,
from
him, and the importance of the piece transcended its origins. It meant even more to her to know that her grandfather had tasked
her
to keep and protect the ancient artifact. Despite the danger she was in, Madalina hated to see the dragon turned to dust.

The Chinese man who had been Cole’s captive, who still stood frozen in place out of fear of reprisal, suddenly broke into his mother tongue. His voice took on an urgent, desperate edge as he appealed to the man holding Madalina.

It wasn’t difficult for Madalina to understand that one man was pleading to another for the dragon’s survival. The wild gestures and taut body were clear signals of distress.

“Ready? Attach the—”

“Wait, wait,” the Chinese man holding Madalina said. His voice, too, had taken on a wary edge.

“No waiting. Release her or the dragon goes. That’s the end of it. Then we’ll have an old-fashioned shoot-out and see who’s the fastest marksman.” Cole pushed the muzzle of the gun into the shoulder of the other man. “Get on the ground. Hands behind your head.”

The agent dropped and did as Cole ordered.

Cole swung the muzzle toward the man holding Madalina. “Put the gun down, kick it across the floor, and get on your stomach. No more warnings.”

Madalina held her breath. She could feel the seething tension in the man who held her and, if she wasn’t mistaken, a slow burning rage at being outmanipulated. She also sensed desperation; the dragon meant
that
much to the men. To the point that the threat of its destruction forced them to do things they wouldn’t normally do.

Her captor set the gun on the ground, slowly, and kicked it toward the wall. The second she felt his hands fall away, Madalina rushed across the room and picked up the handgun. The metal felt cold in her palm as she aimed it at the now-prone Chinese man. Not entirely experienced with guns, she figured simply having it in her possession would be deterrent enough.

“This way,” Cole said to Madalina.

She sidestepped to Cole, out of breath from stress and tension, and allowed him to guide her backward to the door. He opened it while still aiming his weapon at both men, then hustled her into the shadows behind the building.

“If I see
any
movement, or if you so much as show your face outside either door before we’re gone, the dragon will be destroyed. The same is true if I see you
at all
before the arranged transfer. No more chases, no more surprise visits,” Cole said, then whispered to Madalina, “Run across the lot to the repair shop. The Jag’s right there. Get in and start the engine.” Cole tucked his phone away, yanked the door shut, and liberated the gun from Madalina’s hands. He gave her his keys and nudged her into a run.

Madalina didn’t argue. She was free of the Chinese men and not about to waste the opportunity to escape. Bolting across the lot, ignoring the two bodies on the ground, she headed for the Jaguar. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she started the car. Rather than wait for Cole, she pulled forward to meet him. He’d paused to secure the door, she was sure, to help contain the agents.

Falling into the seat, he said, “Go, go, go.”

Madalina sped off the lot and onto the street, shoulders hunched, fists tight on the wheel. Adrenalized, heart thudding triple time in her chest, nerves raw from stress, she fought to retain control of the vehicle.

Any moment, despite Cole’s dire warnings, she expected to hear the distant
crack-pop
of gunfire.

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
IX

C
all Lianne and tell her to get out of the house,” Madalina said, even as Cole put the phone to his ear. “Her landline number is in my lis—”

“It’s me. You need to leave your house right now. Don’t ask questions. Just drop everything and get out,” Cole said into the phone. Then he added, “All right. Stay with her until we tell you it’s safe to go back.”

“Where is she going?” Madalina asked, not surprised that Cole already had Lianne’s number. He’d found her house; the number was a given. She checked the mirrors while Cole twisted in the seat to look behind them, as if he, too, suspected that the agents would be hot on their tail.

“Some older lady on the same street—”

“Mrs. Bartell. She and Lianne have known each other for a year or so. She’ll be safe there as long as no one sees her go inside the house.” Madalina, reassured that Lianne would be safe for the time being, attempted to get her bearings in the city. She didn’t have any idea where she was or where she was going. Her only motive was to put as many turns between the Jaguar and the agents as she could. Goose bumps rained down the skin of her arms. That had been a close call.

“How did you find me?” Madalina asked, glancing briefly at Cole’s profile. He had a no-nonsense, severe expression in his eyes.

“Lianne’s phone. Used GPS to track you. What the hell happened after I left?” Cole put the gun on the floorboard, set the phone on his thigh, and pulled the other gun out to check the magazine for rounds. Clicks and clacks of metal accompanied his inspection.

“They surprised me in the house. I was waiting for you, and they crept up behind me, put something over my nose and mouth. The next thing I knew, I was in that warehouse or whatever it was, and they were asking me questions,” she said. Her muscles ached from the severe grip she had on the steering wheel.

“What kind of questions? Did they demand the dragon?”

“They did at first. But I think that was mainly to ascertain whether or not you were telling the truth, because they dropped it and started asking me questions about my grandfather.”

Cole cursed under his breath. “They just couldn’t leave it alone.”

“Were you really going to have someone crush the dragon?”

“No. I was bluffing.”

Madalina gasped. “You mean—”

“Yes, that’s what I mean. I dialed my brother’s number because I knew he would follow my lead. It was the best leverage I had at the moment.”

“You were taking an awfully big chance that the dragon meant more to them than winning the standoff.”

“Their reputation precedes them in this business regarding the dragon collection. They’ll do anything to obtain the last four, and would do anything—including letting the enemy go—if there was even a breath of a chance that one of the dragons might be damaged. I just used that knowledge to our advantage.”

Madalina inhaled and exhaled a shaky breath. It would take time to process everything that had happened. After another minute of silence, she asked, “Where are we going? We can’t go back to Lianne’s, not yet. It’s too soon.”

“Take a left here.”

Madalina made a left turn, perpetually checking her side and rearview mirrors for signs of a tail. So far, nothing. When she glanced again at Cole, just for a second, she saw he was consulting a map on the phone.

“Did you ever manage to contact your parents? We need to make sure they know what’s going on,” Cole said.

“I’ve been trying to call. I left messages, although none that warned them not to come home right now. Sometimes they go off the grid—”

“Way off the grid.”

“Yes. I don’t have any other way to get ahold of them, and I know it’s not wise to leave such sensitive information on their voice mail.” Madalina followed Cole’s directions until she merged into the moderate flow of traffic on Highway 72. Once more, she asked, “Where are we going?”

“A few miles out of the city. We’ve got to take stock, figure out what we’re going to do from here.” He glanced across the car. “And we need to talk without fear that someone is going to show up in the middle of the conversation.”

“All right.” She didn’t argue. Cole was right; they
did
need to talk.

Fifteen minutes later, via Cole’s directions, she pulled the Jaguar into a small park nestled in the foothills of La Habra Heights. The rectangular parking lot ran parallel to the park itself, which overlooked a good portion of the Los Angeles Basin. Millions of glittering lights broke up the dark terrain below, almost as if the sky had flipped upside down to lay a blanket of stars over cities and towns. Three well-placed lampposts cast cones of illumination across a large playground featuring all the usual amenities: a merry-go-round, a dome-shaped jungle gym, four slides, a wooden fort with two bridges, and a long seesaw. This late, no children played on the swings or rocked on the spring-loaded frogs. The park was quiet, barring two other cars in the lot with soft music spilling out the windows.

Listening to the tick of the cooling engine, she left the keys in the ignition and tilted her body to better face Cole. By then he’d turned off the phone and, after a brief scan of the lot, met her eyes. Madalina experienced too many conflicting emotions to count as they stared at each other, all overlaid by the rush of escape. She would have sworn she’d known him for years rather than less than a week—yet he’d proven with his lies and deceptions that she didn’t really know him at all. Despite that, the intensity and volatility of their time together had made it seem as if they were connected in ways she’d never experienced with another man. Nothing in her past dating life could have prepared her for this.

“You manage to surprise me at every turn. Have you ever used a gun before?” he asked out of the blue, never breaking eye contact.

“I’ve held them, aimed at a target, but never pulled the trigger. Didn’t have the nerve back in those days,” she explained, then added, “It wasn’t a big deal to snatch that one off the ground in the warehouse.” Instinct and an extreme sense of self-preservation had guided her actions.

“Most women I know wouldn’t have thought to do that. They would have escaped as quickly as they could, without looking back.” He appraised her with his eyes.

Madalina resisted the urge to smooth the mussed layers of her hair. She knew she must look a wreck after being mugged in the house and manhandled into the chair. Cole didn’t seem to care.
She
shouldn’t care, either. Impressing Cole West wasn’t her main objective. “I guess there’s a lot about me that’s still a mystery.”

“I agree. The question is—are you going to allow me to unravel the mysteries, or are you ready to split and part ways?”

That was a good question. Madalina hadn’t come to any hard conclusions at the house. She knew she enjoyed being with him, felt great in his presence—until she’d learned the truth. Hearing him say he wanted the chance to know her better was thrilling and disconcerting at the same time. She was on the verge of throwing herself in his arms, yet the hurt of his duplicity lingered. “I don’t know, Cole. I’m relieved and thankful you came for me back there, but I haven’t forgiven you for stealing the dragon. For taking the choice out of my hands.”

“What’ll it take to do that? Get you to forgive me, that is.” He swept a look out the windows at the parking lot, always and ever on alert.

Madalina waited until he found her gaze again to reply. “Honestly, Cole, I’m not sure I can. I—wait. Is your name really Cole?”

“Yes. Cole West. That wasn’t a lie.” He studied her features, her eyes.

“See, the trouble here is that I don’t know if I can believe you. Too many other things have been lies. You could be making it all up—”

“I don’t have a reason to be here any longer, Madalina. Ask yourself why I am, why I’ve come back, and why I put my own life at risk when I’ve already got what I came for. I
could
just take the dragon and sell it and be gone for good in the morning. That’s not what I intend to do. It’s not what I
want
to do. The agents taking you tonight is just more proof that they can and will continue to harass you. I want to put an end to it. And I want a chance to see where this will go between us. You can’t tell me that you don’t feel the same thing I do.”

Cole’s profound reasoning drew a quiet, contemplative noise from Madalina. He was right. He hadn’t
needed
to come back, not now, not after he had the dragon in his possession. He’d stolen more from her, though, than just the heirloom. “I’m not sure what I feel. Confused, conflicted, all of that and more. Angry, too, that you made the decision to return the dragon without my consent.”

“If you don’t give it back to the agents, you’ll never be safe. If you keep the dragon on your knickknack shelf, you’ll make yourself a target over and over and over, and maybe one of those times I won’t be around to get you out of a bad situation. What’s the point of putting it back into a safe deposit box? You’ll have to go to the bank every time you want to see it, which seems like a lot of trouble and inconvenience. So it’ll be stuck in a drawer, doing nothing—except putting your life in danger. I know this world; you don’t. You’ve just skimmed the surface of the danger, the subterfuge, the games that go on. These are just the initial volleys, the first shots across the bow. They mean business, and like I said before—they won’t stop until they have what they want. I’d hate to see you get seriously hurt over this.”

“If I hadn’t been living it every day, I’d think this was impossible. Unbelievable,” she replied in a quiet voice. The burden of the dragon and its consequences were more than Madalina had ever bargained for. She wondered if this had been a part of her grandfather’s life, too, and whether he’d been secretly on the run from the Chinese government. Perhaps that had more to do with his constant travels and moving around than a genetic bent toward wanderlust.

“There’s more. Maybe they won’t believe that you don’t know anything about the other dragons, either, which will precipitate a question-and-answer session you won’t want to be a part of,” he added.

“You’re talking about torturing the information out of me.”

“Yes.”

“I saw a little of that tonight, in the warehouse. Except they were casually threatening my friends and family, as if they knew that would hurt me a lot more than anything they could do physically.”

“They start there, then progress. Trust me, there’s a lot they could do physically that would shatter you.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“Let’s just say I’ve been around the block a few times. And I don’t want to see that happen to you.” Cole looked away, scanned the parking lot, then found her eyes again.

“When you talk like this, it makes me realize that I’m not the only one with mysteries left to unravel. How did you know I even had the dragon in the first place?”

“The antique site you used. That’s how the Chinese agents found you, too, I’d bet anything. Once I confirmed by photos that it was the Treasure Dragon, or at least a close representation, I got your address by fiddling with the site’s user information. From there it was a matter of driving out to California—I’d been in Arizona working on another . . . project. You’d just left for the airport, though, so I did a little research about what flight you took, when it was landing, and drove to Nevada.”

“How could you have gotten that kind of sensitive information?” Madalina couldn’t detect any lies in Cole’s answer. Then again, she hadn’t detected any lies before now, either. She didn’t allow that to dissuade her from listening and asking more questions.

“I have four brothers, two of whom are skilled in that area. They relayed the information to me.”

“
Four
brothers?” Madalina wasn’t sure why that tidbit surprised her so much, but it did.

“Yes. My oldest brother—well,
all
of us have spent time in the military—is a lawyer and also has experience with computer systems.”

“You were in the military? That explains a few things, then.” His skill in self-defense, familiarity with a weapon.

“Three of us, including me, were army. One was a marine; the other in the navy. I continued training outside the service, as did my brothers. It’s just a way of life in our family.”

“What about your mom and dad?” she asked.

“What about them? They live in Rhode Island, not too far from me. My father did fourteen years in the military. He
requested
we all serve time right out of high school, which we did. My mom was an army nurse for four years, then took care of five boys, and worked shifts later, once we were in school, at the local hospital until her retirement.”

Madalina found herself fascinated to learn more about Cole’s background. “What did you do when you got out of the military?”

“I sought extra training, like I told you, and began my illustrious career of finding hard-to-get items.”

“So you’ve been ‘acquiring’ certain things for how long?” Madalina asked.

“Nine years. I’m twenty-nine, thirty next February.”

“I feel almost underaccomplished at twenty-four—but then you probably knew how old I was when you sought me out. What with your connections and everything.” What could have been a facetious retort came out as statement of fact instead. Madalina’s anger had taken a backseat to curiosity.

“I made it my business to find out what I could in advance, yes.”

“Are all of your brothers still in the military? How is it you came to ‘acquire’ things—what does that even mean?” she asked. Her fingers had finally stopped shaking. She clasped them in her lap while she studied Cole’s features.

“No, none of us are in the service any longer.” He lifted a hand and rubbed his jaw, a thoughtful gesture. “I should start by saying that my father ended up working in covert ops while he was enlisted,
not
CIA but a deeper, undercover division that gave him a lot of experience and connections in many parts of the world. He started a business after he got out, one that governments and private corporations utilize for extremely sensitive projects. He gets contracts all the time to retrieve things from other governments, agencies, and companies of the type that don’t advertise their wares to the general public. This way, if anyone gets caught, it doesn’t blow back directly onto our government—or anyone else’s.”