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“Turn around.”
Amata’s knees almost folded in relief. Okay, getting shot wasn’t happening. At least, not yet. She turned and faced her adversary. Her lips pursed when she looked down at the unknown assailant a few feet away. The gun was back, raised, leaving no doubt where the deadly weapon pointed.
“Let’s go.” The person waved a gloved hand at the door.
“Where are we going?” Amata asked as they left her trailer. As if knowing where they were going would help. Wherever they ended up, she doubted it would be where she wanted to be.
“Shut up and get in the van.”
Parked in front of her RV was a nondescript white van with no windows. A single click of a key fob and the back doors swung open.
Peering into the interior, Amata stumbled. She froze at the sight of the tiny enclosed metal box. Tight, enclosed places made her whimper.
“Get in.” The mechanical voice hissed behind her. “I won’t tell you again.”
The hard barrel of the gun poked between her shoulders.
Bending her head, Amata lost her balance on the unforgiving metallic floor and landed hard on her knees. She hissed at the pain.
Her captor laughed. “Get comfortable, buttercup. You’re going to be back here for a while.”
The door slammed shut with a deafening thud.
“Goddammit!”
Claude rolled from his side to face up. The scorching-hot pain throbbing at the base of his head told him lying like this was a stupid thing to do. He sat up with a groan and rubbed the lump forming where it hurt. The sound of a metallic door being thrown open made him jerk. Ignoring the agony racing between his temples, he stumbled around the back of the RV just in time to see a handcuffed Amata fall into the back of a white van on her knees before the hoodie guy slammed the door shut and raced to the driver’s side.
“Hey, wait!” Stumbling after the speeding van with an arm raised didn’t do any good.
The driver gunned it, making the back wheels spun.
Flicking dirt and loose gravel spun at Claude. Uncaring that splintering shards stung his face and arms, he raced to his parked car. By the time he got in, the white van was long out of sight. He barely had the engine turned on before he slammed his foot on the accelerator. Good thing he always paid extra for a high-end rental.
The Lexus purred with ease.
Since it was the middle of the night, there weren’t vehicles he had to dodge as he raced toward the exit. He glimpsed the dirty white van again.
Ignoring the pain throbbing behind his eyes, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He punched a speed dial to one of his partners at FEAR and put it on speaker. The agent might not remember the special unit, but they did have a long history of working together on other projects.
“Fuck, Stygian. Don’t you know what time it is?”
It felt good to be called by his operative name again.
“Listen Raven. I need a favor.” Raven wasn’t the agent’s real name, just the code they’d used before.
A heartfelt sigh. “Good thing I know you wouldn’t call unless it was an emergency. So, what’s up?” As an ex-NYPD detective, her no-nonsense cool head saved many an op that careened sideways.
“I just witnessed a kidnapping in process, and I need you to run this license plate for me.” He rattled off the digits. God, he hoped the van wasn’t stolen. Or at the very least, the license plates weren’t.
“Hang on, give me a minute. I gotta get my computer.”
Claude knew Raven didn’t have to go far. Damn thing was never more than a hand’s reach away.
A flash of white caught his eye. There, the van turned left out of the exit from the studio. It headed down the almost-deserted street at a pace just above the posted speed limit. Claude lightened up on his acceleration and kept a couple of car lengths behind it.
“Well, I got the first hit back. The van’s registered to A-Ajax rental. Hang on a minute and I’ll tell you who rented it.”
“I don’t have a minute! I’ve got to get off the street before they realize I’m tailing them. There isn’t a lot of traffic at one o’clock in the morning.”
