Desperate Rendition - Chapter 14

They didn’t have long. Even in a more or less empty industrial district, there was a good chance someone called the cops and reported gunfire. Worse, he had a problem.

Kara wasn’t here and they didn’t have any survivors, which meant he had no lead on her. If something happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. There wasn’t time to wallow, though. Taylor moved quickly from body to body, checking for any kind of intel. Mostly, they were clean. No IDs, no helpful notes giving detailed instructions.

There were cell phones, however. It might take some time, but he could dig through them, maybe pull some numbers that would lead him in the right direction. It was his best bet.

After grabbing up several, he went up the railing to where Bonnie still was, leaning over the body of a man that was up there, a large caliber rifle next to him.

She’d been right, they’d had someone up here providing cover fire for them. It also explained that first shot kicking the whole thing off. She’d taken him out before it started, which was the right move.

“We needed one alive,” he said. “How the hell are we supposed to find Kara now?”

“I’ll note you killed most of them. But before you get all puffed up and angry, you’re not screwed yet. Your daughter’s probably still breathing.”

“And you know this how exactly?”

“This guy’s named Fischer. We’ve crossed paths before.”

“So?”

“So, this whole setup is exactly his style. He loves ambushes like this. He also likes insurance. He usually keeps his bait alive, gives him options if things go sideways.”

“So he has her being held somewhere else?”

“Most likely. Guarded, but alive. This was Plan A. Fischer always has a Plan B.”

“Not that he’ll need it now,” Taylor said, gesturing at the body.

“I’m betting he’s not working alone. They wouldn’t send one guy after me. Besides, if he was alone, he would have sent lackeys to do this, so he could operate.”

“So you’re saying, what? Other people in your profession?”

“Yeah. Probably.”

“Shit.”

“Actually, it’s a good thing, because it tells us how to find your kid.”

“What do you mean?”

“It isn’t a coincidence Fischer is here. We use the same broker, a Brit named Bailey. Whoever your senator’s got arranging this probably only knows the one contact. So he went back to the well.”

Taylor didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but that wasn’t it.

“Broker?”

“We don’t exactly advertise in the classifieds. Brokers are our middlemen. They find work that suits us, handle the initial contacts. Fischer and I both used Bailey. Fischer was probably his second best worker, after me of course.”

“So this Bailey would know who else has been hired? Maybe even where they’re keeping Kara?”

“Normally. No. Bailey gets the jobs and makes sure the money is paid, stuff like that. But multiple hitters, he’d have to coordinate. We don’t play well with others.”

“And you think he brought in multiple?”

“If Fischer is here on site? Yeah. Probably.”

“Then we find Bailey.”

“Yeah. He’s got a place just over the West Virginia border. Tries to keep it quiet, but...” She said, giving a half shrug.

In the pause, Taylor heard the distant wail of sirens.

“Time to go.”

They sprinted for the exit and across the parking lot back to the SUV, Taylor tearing out of the parking lot before Bonnie’s door was even closed.

He could see red and blue lights in the distance as he turned a corner and disappeared into the city, which would make it easier to lose any cops that might choose to follow than up on the freeway.

Taylor circled wide and got back up on the freeway, heading west, toward West Virginia. They didn’t talk, which was normal after action like that. There was the comedown as the adrenaline subsided, each close call replaying in their heads as they saw each point where they nearly died.

In the moment, you didn’t have the luxury of time to think. You just did. The thinking happened afterward, and no contact was perfect. It was silent enough that, when one of the purloined cell phones rang, it caused him to jump slightly.

“Twitchy,” Bonnie said with a smirk.

Taylor ignored her and answered the phone.

“Is it done?” A voice said.

American by the sound of it.

“Yeah, it’s done, but probably not in the way you hoped.”

“Who is this?”

“Taylor.”

“You’re daughter is good as dead,” the man said, his voice fading as it sounded like he was pulling away from the phone.

“Wait!” Taylor shouted into the phone. “It’s not my fault. Bonnie went crazy, killed one of your guys at the meet, took his gun, then took everyone else out. I was lucky to get out alive.”

There was a pause, and Taylor waited. “If you don’t have Bonnie, we have no reason to keep your kid breathing.”

“Now’s when you need me even more. I’m the only one who’s ever tracked her down. I can do it again.”

Another pause, longer this time. “One last chance. Call this number when you have her. We’ll give you instructions then.”

“I want proof of life first.”

“Do your job.”

“Only if I know she’s alive.”

Silence, then rustling. “Hold on.”

The background noise cut off, but the line didn’t disconnect. The silence dragged on for what seemed like forever. Then the line came back.

“Taylor?” Kara’s voice came through.

Not scared. Angry. Furious. Kara was a fighter, first and always.

“I’m coming for you. Don’t…”

There was more rustling, and then the man’s voice returned. “You heard her. Seventy-two hours, then we kill your kid.”

“I’ll find her,” he said, and they hung up.

Taylor lowered the phone and looked to Bonnie. “Was that Bailey?”

She shook her head. “No, Bailey’s British. But I recognize that voice. Another hitter named Foster. He works for Bailey too.”

“So that confirms Bailey’s coordinating all this?”

“Looks like it.”

“Then this is the right play. We find Bailey and make him tell us where Kara is.”

“Works for me.”

***

It took almost six hours to get to Bailey’s, and they split it off the driving, giving each of them a few hours of sleep. They had slept on the plane, but there was no telling how long this would take, and Taylor was a believer in getting rest whenever he could.

It also seemed that Whitaker had managed to get Solomon to back down for the time being. They passed several troopers on the way to the broker’s, and none came after them. He just hoped Solomon’s patience held because there was no telling how long this would take to unravel.

Bailey lived well off the beaten path, which made sense for someone in his profession. Once off the highway, it was a winding set of side roads, each getting smaller and more rural than the last. Since Bonnie knew where they were going, she drove the second half and surprised Taylor as she pulled off to the side of the small dirt road they had been driving on, well away from any driveways or buildings.

“Here?” Taylor asked, looking around, trying to figure out why she stopped.

“No, but about a mile away. We do the rest on foot.”

“Paranoid?”

“Very, and we don’t want to spook him.”

Taylor made his way around to the rear of the SUV and pulled out an M4, handing the other one to Bonnie. A forest like this, far away from other people, was the kind of place for mid-distance weapons.

Taylor let Bonnie take the lead. Taylor would have preferred to wait for the dark instead of charging off into a pine forest that let a lot of light through and made them stand out. But waiting wasn’t an option. The six hours to get to West Virginia was long enough; he wasn’t willing to give the rest of the day before he moved on Bailey.

Bonnie moved slow and careful, not dashing through the forest, which was fine with Taylor. He’d rather it take twenty minutes to get to the guy than blunder into a trap.

As if the universe heard his thoughts, Bonnie froze, holding up a hand. She crouched down, gesturing for Taylor to do the same. Her fingers traced a nearly invisible wire stretching between two trees.

Tripwires. Whether to explosives or an alarm, it didn’t matter. Either would stop their progress. They avoided it and kept going, but their speed slowed even more as they got closer to the guy’s house, with more tripwires and cameras spread out around the grounds. Some they avoided, others they disabled. After the first five, Taylor started to wonder if Bonnie had been here before, or maybe just scoped out the property because some of the traps she seemed to know about before it should have been possible.

Whoever had placed them had been an expert, and Taylor considered that maybe it was her. If not, she was still doing a better job than any point man he’d worked with before.

Finally, he could make out a small yet surprisingly modern house at the end of a long dirt road. 

Bonnie signaled Taylor to circle around the house. He nodded. Neither spoke. They might have avoided or disconnected the microphones, cameras, and traps along the way, but who knew what they missed. Silence was key.

Taylor waved for Bonnie to take the lead, and fell in behind her as she circled wide, keeping trees behind them and the windows of the house. It occurred to him that the modern structure seemed out of place in the dense forest.

Bonnie stopped, waved him in, leaning in close, until her mouth was next to his ear.

“Front’s wired. He keeps the back clear for a quick exit.”

Taylor nodded and gestured toward the house. Bonnie crouched and moved slowly, foot in front of foot, toward the rear of the house. As they got within a dozen or so steps toward the house, Bonnie paused, pointing at cameras on either side of the door. With a series of signals, she made it clear what the plan was. There were cameras pointing at the back door from two directions. There was no way of getting to it without someone inside seeing them.

Which meant the way to deal with it was to go in fast and hard, no giving time for the person inside to react.

He only hoped that Bonnie was right, and the back door wasn’t trapped, otherwise the person breaching would take the brunt of whatever the door was rigged with. For a moment, Taylor considered whether this was Bonnie trying to get rid of him. But she’d had ample opportunity to do that since he found her, and hadn’t.

Besides, it was the right plan for the layout, and this guy was the next link to Kara. Bonnie gave him a count and on three, Taylor leapt up from his crouch and rushed the door, sending it flying open with a single, well-placed kick.

Bonnie moved past him as soon as the door smashed in, rushing into the room, her weapon at the ready. They moved through a pristine kitchen, all stainless steel and granite, and into what might have been designed as a living room or dining room, but which had a large desk in its center with what could only be described as a wall of monitors.

Standing up from the chair behind the desk was a heavyset man holding a pistol, frozen in place, looking down the barrel of Bonnie’s rifle.

“Chelsea?”

“Drop it!” Taylor commanded, moving a few steps to Bonnie’s left.

The man, Bailey, Taylor presumed, slowly placed the gun on the desk.

“Sit,” Taylor commanded, gesturing to the chair with his rifle.

Bailey complied, his eyes never leaving Bonnie. It was as if Taylor didn’t exist.

“I’m sorry,” Bailey said. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“I get it,” Bonnie said, her rifle dipping and her finger coming off the trigger, but only to the outside of the guard. “Can’t say no to a guy like Ellsworth. How many guys did you send?”

“You know I can’t-”

Bonnie’s finger was back on the trigger in an instant, the barrel dipping down as she fired, putting a round through the center of his foot. Bailey screamed and doubled over, reaching for his injured limb.

“Wrong answer,” Bonnie said coolly. “Let’s try again. How many?”

Bailey’s face had gone pale, sweat beading on his forehead.

“Two,” he gasped. “Just two.”

“Fischer and Foster?”

Another nod from Bailey.

“Fischer had lead on the ambush?”

“Yeah.”

“And Foster’s with the kid?” Bonnie continued.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Ohio. Some property owned by Ellsworth.”

“Is Ellsworth there with them?” Taylor asked.

“No,” Bailey said. “He didn’t tell me, but I’m pretty sure he’s holed up at his hunting cabin. It’s pretty remote so no one to see … anything and it keeps his hands clean.”

“Foster still working with the twins?” Bonnie asked.

“Yeah. They’re with him.”

Bonnie nodded, and then seemed to think of something else. “Anyone else you hired that we should know about?”

Bailey hesitated, his little rat eyes swinging back and forth as he tried to think of what to say. Which told them everything they needed to know. Bonnie raised her rifle, aiming squarely at his chest.

“Wait! Wait! Okay, okay!” Bailey said, holding up his hands in front of them, as if they could ward off a bullet. “There’s one more. Hotaru. I brought him on for personal security for the senator. In case you decided to go after him directly.”

“Damn,” Bonnie muttered, lowering her weapon slightly.

“What?” Taylor asked.

“Hotaru’s not your average contractor. Most of us work alone or with one or two subordinates, but he works with a pretty large team. There will be a lot of muscle around the senator.”

“We’ll deal with that when we get to it. Kara’s our priority.”

Bonnie nodded, then turned back to Bailey. “Give me the exact locations. Both the girl and the senator.”

“This is a mistake, Chelsea. You know that, right? You’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life,” he said, scribbling locations on a piece of paper by his computer monitor.

“I know,” Bonnie said flatly, watching him finish and set the pen down, sliding the paper across to her.

Without warning, she raised her rifle and fired twice, throwing the Brit hard back into his chair, blood blossoming through his shirt.

“What the hell?” Taylor said, his own weapon instinctively coming up and pointing at her.

Bonnie lowered her rifle calmly. “Tying up loose ends. Besides, if we’d left him alive, he would’ve called Foster. Your kid would be dead before we got halfway there.”

“You just hope he’s telling the truth. If he lied, we can’t come and ask him anymore.”

“He didn’t. I know … knew, Bailey. He was telling the truth. We don’t have time for this. Foster will try to check in. He might give Bailey a day, tops. After that, he’ll scrub the operation, kill Kara, and call it done.”

Taylor grimaced but said, “Fine. Let’s go.”