No Woman Left Behind (5 page)

Chapter Eight

A long time ago, when I was still a neophyte on the computer, I had dreams of controlling the world from my keyboard. I would be able to reach anyone, anywhere. Although I know better about my cyber capabilities and limitations now, at this moment, I wanted nothing more than to have the capacity to reach through the computer screen and bring Elvis to safety.

I don’t know how long I sat there staring at the video. Someone on the screen was talking—Broodryk, maybe—but I couldn’t hear a word. I could only see Elvis strapped to that chair.

Slash was saying something as well, but I couldn’t hear him either. I couldn’t hear or feel anything, only stare at the video flashing in front of me, tears pooling in my eyes and dripping down my cheeks.

Finally, mercifully, Slash closed the laptop. He turned my chair toward him, gathered me in his arms and held me. I sat stiff as a board. He kept saying something, but I still couldn’t hear him.

At some point, he cupped my cheeks, made me look at him. I tried to focus on his brown eyes to bring myself back to the room, to the ugly reality I had to face. I couldn’t help Elvis if I were a basket case. I had to gain control, to think. Elvis needed me to be logical right now, and crying wasn’t going to do either of us any good.

“Slash?”

My voice sounded strange, like it was coming from a great distance. I blinked once and tried again. “Slash.” Now it sounded more like a croak than a word.

He nodded, brushed a tear from my cheek. “I’m here,
cara
. Just breathe, okay?”

I took a breath, blinked and looked around the room. It was empty.

“Where did everyone go?” I asked.

“I told them to give us a minute.”

“Broodryk...it’s him? He has Elvis? Where’s Xavier?”

Slash swallowed. “Xavier is in the hospital in Greece. They were attacked and Elvis was taken. Xavier’s alive, but he’s been badly injured.”

“Oh my God.” My voice couldn’t seem to go above a whisper. “Why?”

Slash kneaded the back of his neck, stood and started pacing again. “Broodryk wanted Elvis. Just like he wants you. I presume it’s revenge for how you stopped him at the high school on your last case. His entire cyber operation is in serious jeopardy now. He’s an internationally hunted man, and he’s looking for payback.”

“Elvis...” I could barely say his name without a shaft of pain spearing through my stomach. “Is he...still alive?”

“As far as we know. Do you want me to play Broodryk’s message again?”

I blinked back more tears. “No. Please. I can’t, Slash. Not yet. Can you just tell me what it says? I couldn’t hear him. Sum it up, okay?”

He sat down again, fixed the chairs so we were face-to-face. He took both of my hands in his and held them tightly. His expression was so strained I could see new lines near the corners of his eyes.

“Bottom line is Broodryk thinks he can get you to come after Elvis.”

I pressed a hand to my heart, as if trying to hold the pieces of it together. After a moment I asked, “Will he keep Elvis alive until I decide what to do?”

“There’s no decision to be made. You can’t possibly go after Elvis. It would be a suicide mission. He’d kill you both—most likely in some horrible fashion—as soon as you were out of the States. Then he’d use you as some kind of grotesque example of what he does to people who cross him.”

He muttered something in Italian, rose to his feet and started pacing again. I’d never seen him so upset.

I watched him, tried to get my mind around the situation. “What are my options?”

Slash stopped in front of me. “There are no options yet. We have a digital forensics team going over every inch of the video. Broodryk makes a brief appearance, but he’s masked. We’ll likely be able to match his voice characteristics to the ones we captured from the school incident. It worries me that Broodryk didn’t make an effort to change his voice. He wants you and everyone else in the world to be sure it’s him.”

“What’s the significance of that?”

“It means he wants the world to witness his game.”

“Are you certain it’s Elvis on the video? Maybe it’s just someone who looks like him.” I knew I was grasping at straws, but I had to ask.

He sighed. “It’s him,
cara
. Elvis spoke on the video, so I was able to personally identify the voice match. I assure you, I reviewed the video multiple times.”

“Okay.” My head hurt and I had started to shake uncontrollably.

Slash sat beside me and put an arm around me. “We’ll think of a way to extract Elvis.”

“D-does Basia know?”

“Not yet. We’ve already alerted the police in Hollywood and she’s got a covert detail on her, but she doesn’t know yet. I’m trying to figure the best way to tell her and keep her safe.”

“Thank you.”

“Also, I have a friend who’s a doctor in Rome. He’s on his way to Greece now to personally keep tabs on Xavier. He’ll check on his medical progress and report directly to me. I’ve arranged for a private room at the hospital and a couple of specialists who are willing to consult. All I know at this point is that Xavier is stable, but not out of the woods yet. You do understand we can’t let Basia go see him? It’s too dangerous for her to travel abroad. She’d be at risk, too. We’ll get him home as soon as he’s stable enough to travel. Until then, he’s under police guard.”

I nodded, my teeth chattering. “I understand. My parents, brothers, grandparents—are they in danger?”

“I won’t lie to you. It’s possible. Your parents have been permitted to leave the hotel and go home, but they remain under police protection. Your brothers are both there now with them. Both sets of your grandparents and your aunts, uncles and other assorted family have been made aware of the events.”

“Oh my God. What about Wally, Piper and Brandon?” They were the kids at the high school who had helped Elvis and me defeat Broodryk.

“For now, all of them, including Bonnie, will have a police presence around the clock.”

Bonnie was the headmistress of the high school Broodryk and the terrorists had attacked. Elvis had just started dating her a few weeks ago.

“There is a bit of good news,
cara
. We’re pretty sure Abri Pentz has left the States.”

“What? How can you be sure?”

“We’ve had dozens of international agencies all over this, trying to piece together his activities. Pentz is nearly as hunted as Broodryk. We got lucky and found a match with one of Pentz’s known aliases going out of Jean Lesage International Airport in Quebec about twelve hours ago.”

I thought about it a moment. My head still hurt, but I had to focus, so I pushed aside the pain.

“You said Elvis spoke on the video. What did he say?”

He brushed a strand of hair from my shoulder. “Why don’t you take some time to think over what we’ve already talked about and then we’ll go over the video together in more detail. Okay? You need a breather. You’re in shock.”

“No.” My voice firmed. “No, Slash. I don’t want to wait. Elvis needs us. I want to know. What did he say?”

“I don’t think—”

“I can handle it. Please, just tell me.”

Slash caught my hand in his and squeezed. “Elvis told you not to come for him. He told you not to do what Broodryk wants
.
And then...” He closed his eyes.

“And then what?”

“And then Broodryk beat him.”

Chapter Nine

I bolted from the chair and ran to the door, wrenching it open. I barely made it to the ladies room before I threw up, heaving until there was nothing left in my stomach.

I don’t know when he came in, but at some point Slash was there with me, holding my hair back, whispering soothing words, pressing a paper towel to my forehead. When I finished, he helped me wash up, then led me out. I saw Woodward and a few of the others in the hallway, watching. Slash said something to them, led me down the hallway, picked up our things at the lobby and then went to his car.

He drove me back to the hotel and tucked me in bed like I was a little girl.

“Close your eyes,
cara
. Rest. I’m here. I won’t leave you.”

He stepped away for a moment and returned, handing me a glass of water and a pill. “Take it,” he said. “Trust me.”

Without a word, I took the pill and swallowed it. He sat with me, holding my hand and murmuring words in Italian until I drifted off. When I woke, Slash was sitting in a chair he’d pulled next to the bed, watching me.

I sat up. “How long was I out?”

He sat on the bed next to me, taking my hand and offering human comfort. “An hour, maybe fifty minutes. Not nearly long enough.”

“What did you give me?”

“A mild tranquilizer. Apparently it wasn’t strong enough. You were on overload.”

“I shut down. I’m sorry.”

He stroked my hand. “It’s understandable.”

“I shouldn’t have. You didn’t have to stay with me. You could have been figuring things out, doing something else.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what to do. I’m in a bit of shock myself. And, I feel guilty.”

“Why?”

“I should have anticipated that Broodryk might do something like this. That he might seek revenge. Elvis and Xavier, they were out of the country, unprotected.”

“I don’t understand. Broodryk didn’t even know about Elvis, that he was there at the school, too, working against him.”

“He found out somehow. He knows you, so by extension everyone you know is at risk. Think about it. I found you through the Zimmermans. Broodryk could have easily found them through you. That’s on me. I made an error in judgment. I thought Broodryk would go deep underground and lay low. Instead, he did exactly the opposite. He went big, flashy and obvious. He’s thinking with his ego because you humiliated him. It’s stupid and damn risky for him. The problem is that Elvis is the unknown variable in this. I can’t see any way, yet, that this can play out where we get Elvis out safely.”

“We have to think of something.”

“I’m working on it.”

“I want to see the video. All of it this time.”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

He held up a hand when I started to argue. “There are many reasons for that, the most important being that I no longer have access to a copy right now. It’s being tightly controlled at CIA headquarters where multiple teams, including some of the best network and digital forensic teams in the nation, are pouring over it.”

He stood and joined me on the bed, putting an arm around me. I leaned my head against his shoulder. “I’m working on getting you a transcript. That way you can focus on the message without being distracted or distressed by the images.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

He was right. I needed time to get emotionally prepared and I couldn’t do that if I kept imagining Elvis strapped to a chair. “I’m going to have to see the video soon.”

“I know.” He kissed my hair. “We’ll figure something out,
cara
.”

I’m not sure whether it was the biological byproduct of extreme stress or a desire to rid myself of the numbness in my mind and heart, but I slid out from beneath the covers and straddled Slash, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He looked at me with a question in his eyes.

I was emotionally and intellectually adrift, scared beyond anything I’d ever known. I was desperate to regain my focus, but first I needed the comfort and release I knew Slash could offer. Without a word, I kissed him. Fast, hard, needy.

He hesitated, then kissed me back. His hands slid into my hair, his mouth slanting over mine. Before I knew it, my sweater and T-shirt were off and his hands were everywhere. I reached for his shirt when his hands closed over mine.

His brown eyes shone with a predatory glow. But there was something else in them—concern. “Are you sure,
cara
?”

I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I knew the physical and emotional connection we shared would give me both the steadiness and relief I sought.

I lifted his hands to my lips and kissed them. “I’m sure. I’m not very good at expressing myself, but the truth is, before I met you, I didn’t understand the cost of solitude. Now that you’re here, I don’t have to pay that price anymore. I’m never alone with you. You...anchor me.”

He took one of my hands and pressed it to his chest. “No, you’re not alone.”

I cupped his face in my hands and lowered my head to his, letting my tongue taste the fullness of his mouth. He yanked me against him, rolling me over and pinning me to the bed. He crushed his mouth against mine, a heady onslaught of pleasure and torment. His body burned so hot beneath my roving fingers, it seemed fevered. Or maybe it was me. At this point, I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began.

“
Cara
, I love you.”

I opened my eyes. He watched me intently. How was it I’d never noticed how symmetrically perfect his features were? A mathematical masterpiece created by a random collision of genes and DNA.

He loved me.

Slash’s eyes burned with a fierce light. “You’re mine. Understood?”

I acquiesced. There was no submission here, only a joining of like minds and a promise of more to come.

“Understood.”

Chapter Ten

We stood side-by-side in the hotel room, getting dressed. Slash passed me while retrieving his jeans from the floor and leaned over to kiss my bare shoulder. I didn’t even shy away at the unexpected gesture. I was becoming less and less self-conscious around him.

I fastened my bra, then tugged my T-shirt over my head. “What now?”

He shoved his feet into a pair of black boots. “We have a meeting with Woodward in about an hour to review options and go over all the intelligence we’ve accumulated to this point.”

“And until then?”

“You go to your parents’ house. I need to figure out the best way to tell Basia about Xavier.”

“I should be the one to tell her about Xavier.”

“We both know she’ll call you soon enough. Let me take first crack at it. I can give her the facts and fill her in on Xavier’s condition minus the highly charged emotional component that will likely be present between the two of you. You’re going to have your hands full with your parents for the next forty minutes anyway.”

I wanted to argue, but he was right. My parents would be out of their minds with worry and I was the only one who could handle them.

“Fine.” Sighing, I pulled on my jeans and laced up my tennis shoes. “I guess I’d better tell Bonnie, too, unless someone else already has.”

Slash shrugged. “I think that’s doubtful at this point. She’d probably appreciate hearing it from you.”

I sat next to him on the bed and he gave me a kiss on the cheek. I liked that—his spontaneous show of affection.

“You better?” he asked.

“Yes.” I paused for a moment. “It was more than the sex. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

Impulsively, I pressed a cool hand against his cheek. “You’re a pretty good guy.”

He captured my hand, brought it to his lips and turned it over, pressing a lingering kiss to the inside of my wrist. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He stood, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a half-eaten power bar. “Want a bite?”

“Ugh. No thanks.”

“Such disdain from a girl who eats processed peanut butter crackers from the vending machine.”

I gave him a small smile. “I figure if I keep offering them to you, one day you’ll learn to appreciate the processed goodness.”

He looked so appalled, I laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch something to eat at my parents’.”

“An even better idea. Let’s go.”

We grabbed our coats and drove to my parents’ house. I checked the house as we pulled up out front. The bay window had already been boarded up. The February wind was cold as I exited the car and I shivered, pulling my coat tighter as we walked up the sidewalk. Two policemen were standing guard at the front door. Slash and I stopped to chat with them. I learned there were more two more officers around the back and felt better for knowing it.

Slash gave me a quick kiss on the porch, then left.

I went into the house alone and found my family in the living room. Rock and Beau pounced on me immediately, asking questions, but my mom shooed them away. She ushered me to the couch, where I sat sipping a hot cup of tea and giving them a diluted version of everything I knew to this point.

My mom covered her mouth when I explained how the gunman was shooting at me. “Someone wanted to kill you?”

“Not exactly. He never intended to hit me. It was supposed to be some kind of threat or warning.”

“A warning? What the
hell
?” My brother Rock slammed his fist against the table. “Let me get this straight. This South African psychopath, Johannes Broodryk, hired a trained assassin named Abri Pentz to shoot, but not hit you, and then kidnapped one of your friends?”

“Not just any friend,” I corrected. “Elvis was with me in the school when it all went down. He was as instrumental as I was in putting a stop to that operation. Broodryk kidnapped Elvis first and is now trying to engage me.”

“Engage you? Why? What exactly does this nut job want?” Beau asked.

I wrapped my fingers around my teacup. “I don’t know what game he’s playing yet.”

My dad shot up from his chair. “This is some kind of game?”

My mom started crying, so I scooted closer to her on the couch and put an arm around her. “Mom, it’s okay. Really. Please don’t cry.”

She swiped at her eyes. “If only you would have taken those ballet lessons when I begged you.”

I smiled a little at that. “Sure, Mom. Go ahead and pull the guilt card on me now. Yes, Dad, this whole situation is some kind of a game to Broodryk. He wants me to play.”

My dad frowned. “You will not.”

“Agreed,” said Beau.

“We’re all in agreement on that.” Rock snatched his laptop and opened it. “We will not sit around here and do nothing. We have to research this guy. Figure out where he is, what he might do next.”

At that moment, I had never loved my family so much. Their support, love and indignation meant more than I could ever express. Despite our—okay, mostly
my
—eccentricities, we were a family, a united front. Team Carmichael. Why hadn’t I ever appreciated it properly before?

“Knock yourself out, Rock,” I said. “But the best minds in the international community are already on it. They are piecing together his activities, and the movements of the shooter, over the past sixty-two hours or so. Still, I’ve learned never to underestimate the prowess of an investigative reporter, especially when he works at the
Post
and is my brother.”

“Damn right.”

My dad stretched out a hand to me. I looked at it and then put my hand in his. He pulled me to my feet and into a bear hug. I wrapped my arms around him and tried not to cry. I didn’t want to worry my parents more than they already were. We were all at the breaking point.

“Okay, what next, pumpkin?” he asked, his face against my hair. “What do we do?”

“I don’t know. I have to meet with the agents in less than an hour. Slash is coming to get me. This time, I have to actually watch the video. Broodryk’s message is for me. There may be something he says or does that only I will understand. Earlier today, I wasn’t prepared to see the video. Now that I am, I have to figure out the best way to help Elvis. Falling apart won’t solve anything.”

“We’re here to help. Just tell us what to do.” My dad hugged me tighter.

I felt a lump in my throat. “I don’t know yet, Dad. Just be careful. All of you. Slash told me everyone will have a security detail until we get a handle on this.”

“Agent Woodward urged us to take off a few days and stay together here at the house,” Rock said. “I’ve been told I have to sit on the story until further notice. National security and all that crap.”

“It’s a good idea. We can’t risk him doing anything more to Elvis in retribution.”

“Well, I’m not just going to sit around doing nothing,” Beau said. “I’m a law enforcement officer. I don’t subscribe to running scared of criminals nor of sitting around doing nothing.”

“You’re not being idle. Help Rock research. I’ll be reviewing the video and the intelligence on the whereabouts of both Broodryk and Pentz shortly. We all can do something.”

“What’s Slash doing?” my dad asked. “Where is he right now?”

“He’s talking to Basia for me because I needed to come here to see you first. I’m glad I did. But I still need to call, uh, Elvis’s girlfriend.” The words stuck in my throat. “Then I have to see the video. It may help us pinpoint Broodryk’s general location if we get lucky.”

“And if we don’t?” Beau asked.

“Then the ball is in Broodryk’s court.”