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Nerves clawed at my throat. "And the GPS?"
"Sending. I can punch it up on the tablet." She was already reaching to take the thing back.
"Don't bother. I'm coming down to the cave."
43
Annie
We were still in Vegas.
It wasn't good that they didn't care if I saw where we went. That meant whatever staging ground it was for whatever the next step of the journey was, the place changed regularly.
It wasn't good that it was in Vegas proper. Not that I wanted to be dragged into the desert.
It wasn't good that the goons who'd grabbed me were afraid enough of the man who’d ordered me grabbed that they didn't even try to rape me. Not that I wanted to be raped. At all. Ever. But the fear and respect? Bad.
We stopped somewhere in the city but were heading for Henderson where there was a lot of warehousing going on. Distribution wasn't new to southern Nevada as an economic staple, but manufacturing was. Economic development guys kept putting up buildings and then having a glut of them because the companies they expected to desert California and set up shop in Nevada didn't always show up.
There were empty warehouses.
Shit.
They'd destroyed a lot of my clothes on the drive. I ended up in a big gray tee shirt that smelled, and my panties, sandals and nothing else. When I tried to put on the see-through top they told me not to be stupid and threw the tee at me. What did they care if I had a torn up cami and fluttery top? I wanted the cami and the top. I wanted the plastic blades.
Now I had the one in my sandal. And that was it.
The clothes stayed in the van.
I was dragged out of the van as if I'd already done something to really upset these guys. One of them put a hand under my hair and grabbed hard on my neck, driving me in front of him.
I sent up hopeful prayers he wouldn't feel the scab from the tracker or wouldn't care if he did. I didn't have to pretend to be scared because I really was.
He pushed me ahead of him into the darkness of the warehouse.
44
Cole
The tracker showed her in the warehouse district of Henderson where a fire had put several warehouse businesses into bankruptcy and closed the facilities down.
I could make multimillion dollar deals before breakfast without breaking a sweat but this had me going back and forth. She'd agreed to being tracked but she wanted to do this herself.
But she was in a bad place and didn't undercovers have some kind of backup?
No, they probably didn't. But Annie did.
"Can we put a weather chopper in the sky?" Did news stations even use them anymore?
"We can get a chopper painted with a logo," the lead tech said. He was simultaneously watching the others, tracking Annie, determining where she was and what was there, and looking for a chopper.
"Let's do it. Call Barry in here."
"Already here, sir," Barry said from the doorway. He wore a desert tan polo shirt, dark jeans, and from his belt hung a quick draw, open carry automatic. Good. He was ready to go, which meant his men were as well. I'd briefed Barry on the situation back when Annie had to be wired. I'd have required her to be topless for it but Barry – ex-Special Forces, looked like the leading man in a hell of a lot of action movies – turned out to be shy around anything that combined females and sex, and very straight-laced. I wanted to humiliate my sub, not my chief of security. Annie kept all her clothes on and Barry blushed anyway.
"How fast can you have a team together?"
"Five minutes to board a vehicle. We've been ready since Miss Knox went in."
