At Wit's End (19 page)

The window was
now at the perfect level. Marie loosened her knees for balance and jabbed the towel rod hard into the last board covering the bathroom window. She heard a screech and saw the nails were beginning to separate from the wall. With a grimace she swung again.

Every
thud
had her watching the door. She had checked all the outlets and fixtures for another microphone in the bathroom and hadn’t found one. That didn’t mean someone standing outside the bedroom door wouldn’t be able to hear her slamming into things and decide to check on her.

A final swing had the board popping off the wall and falling to the ground outside. It joined the
two boards she’d already struggled with. Each swing had her thanking her willpower for getting her to the fitness room on a daily basis. Working as a chef was no physical picnic either and she had strength in her upper body second to few.

The dimensions of the window were perfect for someone of her size to fit through. It might be tight but at least she would make it. Fortunately the room she was locked in was located on the ground floor. She hadn’t wanted to drop a story but she would have.

A bucket lay next to the door. She’d found it under the sink. It smelled of cleaning supplies but there hadn’t been any in the cupboard. Bummer. Something toxic to spray into someone’s eyes may have come in handy. For now she’d make do with the bucket alone.

At the fireplace she slanted the bucket and scooped as much ash and dark soot as would fit without making a mess. She used a napkin to wipe the outside edge of the bucket and carried it into the bathroom.

Marie latched the flimsy door and quickly removed her blouse. She tied one sleeve around the handle of the bucket and carefully lowered it out the window. The cold air dimpled her skin and she remembered the vest. It had a dark lining that could come in useful. Plus it was going to be chilly outside.

She retrieved the vest and put it on. The fit was loose but it would work. She levered herself to the ledge of the window and swung her legs out. She landed harder than she had expected and her knee gave a warning ache. She used the bushes as cover while she crouched down and massaged the joint.

              With the ache soothed she reached for the bucket. She hated that it was necessary to do what came next. She removed the vest and put her blouse back on and then the vest again. The powder blue top was one of her favourites and it pained her heart but she followed her plan and completely covered herself in the black sooty mess.

With a final look at the lit window Marie snuck to the darkness that covered the broad lawn. Her destination was the tree
line that lay beyond the expanse of well-manicured grass. She headed straight from where she’d left the window. Another wing of the building lay to her left and Marie was stunned at the size of the compound. A small army could be in there and no one would be the wiser.

With 25 feet until she reached the trees Marie paused. She peered around slowly and listened intently. All she heard w
ere the natural sounds of night in the forest. With a deep breath she sprinted to the trees.

At the fourth large oak into the canopy she paused for breath. The arching branches blocked the stars and moon and made the night even darker. She didn’t know which direction she was going or which way she should go from here.

A deep inhalation through her nose told her a body of water was nearby. She half turned in that direction and stopped. Roger had said this used to be a resort. A resort with a pond or lake generally had VIP or family cabins on those lakes.

S
he turned the other way. She’d keep the scent of water to her back. Eventually she’d find a road or house or something. This was America, a very populous country. Surely she’d bump into someone who could help her.

She walked slowly, careful not to step on branches or leaves. She didn’t make much progress but she also wasn’t seen so she continued on, slow and steady until giant spotlights behind her lit the yard. The light reflected off of dew covered grass and made it
s way into the forest in which she hid.

Marie’s legs began sprinting without her consciously deciding to run. She was blind in the dark and crashed through several bushes and branches she hadn’t seen coming. A man began shouting far in the distance. Marie looked back and didn’t see anyone.

Wit crouched under a window that looked into the building they’d seen on the satellite image. No lights were on that he could see. He couldn’t tell if Marie – or anyone – was inside. He ducked back down and considered looking for an entrance.

The crashing through the forest drew his attention and he turned to look. It was extremely dark but he thought he saw something darker than the patch of night move through the trees. He took a step closer and a body slammed into his. A cloud of dust went up his nose and he immediately began sneezing.

Wit wrapped his arms around the wiggling mass laying across his chest and struggled to put a hand over her mouth before she screamed. Under the stench of old fire he’d caught a trace of the cinnamon he would always associate with his Marie.

“Marie, it’s me, Wit,” he whispered after the last sneeze.

“Bradley?” she asked when he loosened his grip.

“Are you okay? I’ve been worried sick about you,” he told her. He ran his hands over every part of her he could reach and checked for injuries.

“I’m fine. Bradley, I’m so glad you’re here. It wasn’t a real bomb in the picture. The bricks were made out of Play-Doh.”

“Thank God. I was so afraid.” He kissed her sooty cheeks and felt wetness. “Don’t cry, honey, it’s going to be okay.”

Marie sniffled. “It’s been a little stressful,” she told him.

“It won’t be for much longer,” he reassured her. “Hirsch is
with me. He’s supposed to meet me here shortly. If we hadn’t found you we were going to check the main house. What happened in there?”

“I met Roger Ingerhoffe.” Marie shivered. “There’s something wrong with him mentally.”

“What do you mean?” Wit asked

“I’m not sure I could explain. How did you find me?”

She couldn’t see the sheepish grin in the dark but she heard it in his voice. “I had a tracker on you. It was in the fob you use to get into your fitness room at your apartment.”

Marie rolled her eyes. “We’re going to have to talk about personal space and privacy at some point.”

“I know, I know. I wonder where Hirsch is,” Wit whispered. He thought he heard something on the path and held up a hand to quiet her.

The glow of the spotlights did not reach them in the shadows of the outlying building and Marie felt a sense of security.
Then she, too, heard the steps on the path. All feelings of being secure fled.

Hirsch tugged on the padlock. Like the locks on the other cabins it held fast. He had carefully checked each of the small buildings and he’d decided the locks were there to keep people out of the crumbling buildings as opposed to keeping Marie in. He could have crawled in through one of the holes in the walls had he wanted to give them closer examinations.

Without the Night Vision Goggles Hirsch would have been lost. The trees hid the illumination of the stars and moon and Hirsch, having always lived in the city, understood what darker than the night truly meant in
a non-philosophical manner.

It had not taken as much time to c
heck the uninhabited cabins as Hirsch had thought it would. He hoped Wit had found Marie. It was time to make his way to their meeting point. They could compare notes and Hirsch would do his best to stall Wit from going to the main house.

The conversation he’d had with his boss had been quite uncomfortable and Hirsch was not looki
ng forward to his next work day but he’d accomplished his goal. The FBI’s Hostage Rescue Team would be dispatched. His job was to gather as much information as he could within the time frame given and meet the team leader where Wit had left his car.

His superior had made it clear he expected the answers to some questions in the near future. Wit’s anonymity may not last much longer and Hirsch was sorry for that. He’d tried to keep him out of trouble as long as he could and, as per their arrangement, he would throw Witson under the bus when the time came. It had been an aggravating but fun ride these past few months.

A game trail ran parallel to the cobblestone path the resort had laid and Hirsch used the trail to navigate to the building at which he and Wit had agreed to meet. As he drew near he heard several muffled sneezes in succession. Hirsch stopped and immediately dropped to the ground. He trained his gaze in that direction and held his breath.

Relief flooded him when he realized the two bodies crouched in front of him and against the shed were Wit and Marie. He exhaled slowly and began to stand up. As he rose bright lights flared into life. The goggles flashed and Hirsch barely stifled the grunt of pain as he
ripped them away from his head. He dropped back to the ground and watched the scene unfold. This was exactly what he had feared would happen.

Three men converged on the couple. Wit pushed Marie so she stood between his back and the wall of the building. The lights were blinding him. He took his own flashlight and flicked it on. He pointed it toward the men. They slowly lowered their lights to a respectable level and Wit did the same.

No one spoke. It was a silent stand-off and Wit let it last as long as the men wanted. The joker in the wild deck of this plan was still out there. Wit knew darn well Hirsch would call for back-up as soon as he’d had signal on his phone. Wit had been counting on it.

The idea now was to delay their removal from the area until Hirsch knew they’d been found. By his calculations it wouldn’t be much longer. He hoped Hirsch would stay hidden. While each party waited for the other to speak he scanned the woods and looked for a sign. A stray beam of reflected light deep in the woods told Wit exactly what he needed to know. The cavalry was coming.

He rocked back on his heels and sucked air through his front teeth in a hiss. “Gentlemen,” he nodded cordially, “nice night for a stroll.”

Marie grabbed his shoulder and whispered “The o
ne on the left is Brother Jacob.” He felt her shiver. “He was the one who knocked me out.”

Wit looked at the young man. “Jacob? Are we going to have a problem here?”

“No, no problems,” his Adams apple bobbed at the tone in Wit’s voice. Something flashed at the end of the stick he held in his left hand.

“What was that? Wit asked.

“This is a cattle prod,” the young man replied. The end flashed a blue fire once more. “This is how I know we won’t have any problems. Uncle Henry said I had to give you two a choice before I used it. Walk ahead of us and keep your hands where I can see them. You’ll have a talk with Father Roger and no one will get hurt.”

“Or?” Wit inquired.

“Or I zap you and let the lady watch you piss yourself.”

Wit nodded. “In that case,” he held his arm out to Marie, “shall we go for a stroll?”

She glared at him but stood strong, as he knew she would. “You’re a little jerk, Jacob. Let’s go.” She turned and strode purposefully down the trail.

“Hey, what’s in that building anyway?” Wit asked Jacob over his shoulder.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Jacob told him. “Get moving.” He waved the stick menacingly.

Wit decided to test him. “Why don’t we talk about this? I’m rich
; I can give you anything you want. All you have to do is give us a three minute head start. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

Wit woke up on a hard cot and looked around the room groggily. “What happened?”

Marie rushed over and hugged him. “Jacob hit you with that stick. You went straight as a board and then hit the ground. I thought you were dead.”

Wit shook his head.
It ached nearly as much as his body. He should stop making impulsive decisions. “Where are we?”

“We’re back inside. This is a different room than the one they kept me in before. I already checked
and the windows and walls are a lot sturdier.”

“Are we locked in?” Marie gave him an exasperated glance. “Sorry, stupid question.” Wit rose and paced around the room
to stretch his throbbing muscles. “I don’t suppose you have a plan?”

Marie shook her head. “Not yet. We haven’t been in here long. I think Jacob went to get Roger Ingerhoffe.”

Wit stared at the blank wall before him. “Well, shit.”

“That’s what I said,” Marie told him.

FBI Agent Marlon Hirschenbaum knelt in the thick underbrush several yards from the large outbuilding. He watched the scene unfold and cursed his luck. They’d been so close to getting away from this place without having to engage the militia.

Bright lights flickered on and pinned Marie and Wit against the wall. Hirsch noted with pride th
at Wit had protected Marie. He couldn’t hear what was being said and he didn’t want to risk moving in close. Eventually the men lowered their lights and Hirsch could see Wit scanning the forest in his direction. It was subtle and he may only have seen it because he wanted to but he went with the feeling.

He angled the NVGs and let a beam of light strike off the front glass. Wit’s posture changed, he seemed to become more relaxed. The men began leading the couple down the trail and back towards the main building. Hirsch followed from a safe distance
and stayed to the right of the trail.

He winced when the man struck Wit with the stick. It looked to be a
Taser. Hirsch had been hit with one of those before and he knew how badly it hurt and would continue to the next day. Two of the men dragged Wit between them.

At the edge of the trees Hirsch was forced to stop. The spotlights still shone across the lawn and he didn’t want to be seen. He had an appointment with the Hostage Rescue Team and it was time to start moving
in that direction if he wanted to be on time.

Hirsch slid deep into the trees. Using a compass he navigated his way to the Lamborghini without having to use main trails. He hadn’t seen any sentries but that didn’t mean there weren’t any
around. He waited patiently and rehearsed his answers until he saw headlights strobe through the woods.

When the sedan stopped he walked to it and stuck out his hand. “Sir, thank you for coming.”

SAC Anderson glared at his troublesome agent. He slammed the door and ignored the outstretched hand. “You have a confidential informant from New York City who found themself kidnapped and brought to the woods of Delaware? Is that my understanding?”

Hirsch swallowed heavily. “Yes, sir. The situation has changed since we last spoke.”

“How so?”

“Two of my informants are now being held against their will.”

“I see,” SAC Anderson said while doing nothing of the sort. “Do you know their demands?”

“I don’t believe it’s that kind of kidnap situation, sir. There most likely won’t be a ransom call,” he told the older man.

“There’s always a ransom of some sort. Who are these people that are holding your informants?”

Hirsch clearly remembered explaining this on the phone. He quickly ran through the facts he had, from the file he’
d received to the recent events at the shed, and managed to do so without his aggravation coming through. Time was not on their side, not when Wit was acting like a wild card.

SAC Anderson nodded his head thoughtfully. “We have a plan prepared to take the building. After Waco it was agreed there would not be stand-offs with religious cults. This
is
a cult, is it not, Agent Hirschenbaum?”

“As close to one as I’ve ever seen,” Hirsch
lied enthusiastically.

“That’s fine then. We’re waiting on the Team and then we’ll green light the operation.” SAC Anderson turned toward his car, stopped and turned back to Hirsch. “
I have one last thing before I give that green light.”

“What can I help you with, sir?”

“This is a two part question, agent. Is one of the informants being held your friend Zero? And if yes, are you prepared to share his real name with me?” The man’s steely stare locked Hirsch in place. There would be no escaping this one without an answer.

Hirsch hesitated and then gave a half nod. It was enough. SAC Anderson nodded back and slid into the sedan.

This time the room had an actual bed in it. Wit had woken up on it but Marie could tell it had been neatly made recently. Aside from the dirt and dust shedding from their bodies the room was immaculate.

“I think this is someone’s room,” she said to Wit. He was standing at the window and appeared to be scraping at it with his fingernail. “What are you doing?”

“I think these windows have been blacked out. We may have seriously underestimated the number of people in this group.” Wit rubbed his hands together and noticed the black smudges. “What is this stuff? It’s all over both of us.”

Marie looked at her hands. “I used the ash and soot from the fireplace in the first room to darken my skin and clothing. When I started putting it on I had been sweating from breaking the boards over the window and it became a thick paste.”

The intelligence and bravery of this woman floored him.
Wit quickly crossed the room and thrust his hands into the thick mass of hair she wore bound. He pulled the band out and used his fingers to comb the curls. Dust flew and they both sneezed.

Wit grinned at Marie, met her eye and leaned in for a kiss that heated her from nose to toes. Her veins sang with the thrill of energ
y and she deepened the contact. She raised her leg to wrap her calf around his and dragged her hands down his chest.

She clutched at his waist to pull him closer. A groan rose from her throat. She tilted her head back and kept her eyelids at half-mast. “This is most definitely not the place for this conversation.”

Wit’s hands were on her ass. He squeezed one more time and reluctantly let go. A glance at his watch told him they would need to stall for at least another hour. That would be the earliest Hirsch would have been able to call for back-up when Wit had released his cell phone signal.

Held in the cage of his arms Marie couldn’t help but nibble at his chin. He closed his eyes and struggled to maintain control. “Do you feel like cuddling?” he murmured against her earlobe.

Her lips curved. “You’re so cavalier about this. I wish I knew how you did that.”

He stepped back and sat on the bed. He patted the spot next to him. “Why don’t we sit down for a few minutes?”

“Is this your way of getting me to cuddle?” she quipped. When he didn’t respond in kind she sat next to him and laid her hand on his thigh. She squeezed lightly and waited patiently while he gathered his thoughts.

“I learned the hard way exactly what this group is capable of doing. I can speak from experience when I say they have no qualms about killing innocent people. Every
single person in that bar was an innocent person,” he said.

“If you’re trying to remind me this isn’
t a joke there’s no need. I’m scared out of my mind, Bradley,” she confessed.

“You hide it well,” he told her. Wit stretched his arm across her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. He rubbed her bicep and she tilted her head onto his shoulder. “If they were going to kill us they would have already. They’ve had dozens of chances in the past week alone.” He felt Marie nod against his neck. “Besides, we have a Plan B. You may have forgotten.”

“That’s right, you said Hirsch was here. I never saw him.”

“He was out in the woods. He saw them bring us here. The smart guy thought to shine a light off of a lens of glass so I would know he was there. I’m surrounded by brilliance.”

“Like comes to like, I suppose,” she kissed the side of his neck and rose. “I don’t know about you but I’m ready to turn that bathroom into a stinky disaster zone. I’m not comfortable using the tub or shower but we can use washcloths and towels. And
I
can speak from experience when I say they have amazing water heaters.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Before we do that, however, there’s something I want to do.” Marie picked up the sturdy wooden chair that had sat at the desk. She wedged it under the doorknob. “If they are going to lock us in then I feel totally justified in locking them out.”

Wit laughed. “I hadn’t thought of that, nicely done!” As he had in the woods Wit held out his arm. “Shall we?”

“But of course.”

The knock on the door brought Roger Ingerhoffe’s attention from the legal pad he’d been studying. He jotted a note at the bottom and bade the visitor enter. As the door opened he flipped the pad face down.

“Brother Jacob, do you have news for me?” he asked. The young man was standing at attention and kept his stare straight ahead.

“Sir, I do. We found Ms Chase and Mr Witson when they were at the shed. I placed them in a room as you requested.”

“By the shed you say? Did they see inside?”

Jacob shook his head. “No, sir, I don’t believe they had been there long when we came across them. Sir.”

“Very well then. Continue the patrols, please, Jacob. I doubt Mr Witson came alone.”

“Yes, sir.” Jacob saluted smartly and left the room.

Ingerhoffe stifled a sigh. The formality and regiment of the militia was required to ensure his control but it was tiresome. He wished someone would tell him “Hell yes we took care of that, Rog, you know it!”
instead of all the “Sir, yes sirs” he received on a daily basis.

“I should be on those patrols,” Henry spoke up. He was sitting across the desk from Ingerhoffe and staring into his drink.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Ingerhoffe responded. “Marcus, have any sensors gone off since that first one?”

Marcus looked up distractedly from the laptop he was balancing precariously on his bony thighs. “No. I activated the cameras at the front gates. I know you don’t like using the Closed Circuit system but it’s necessary. If the FBI is coming I need t
he warning to wash this hard drive. There’s too much information on it to have it land in their hands.”

Ingerhoffe stifled a sigh. He asked so few things of his people. Marcus wouldn’t
have done it if it weren’t needed so he’d allow it. “Are you still in Witson’s computer?” he asked.

“As
much of it as I can be, yes,” Marcus replied. There’s this huge chunk I can’t access. It’s starting to frustrate me.”

“Would talking to Witson help?”

The hacker’s eyes lit. “He won’t tell me anything.”

“Not if you ask. Go in there and gloat some. He’s likely to let something slip.”

Marcus thought about the suggestion. It seemed as good of an idea as any others he’d had. He nodded.

“Excellent. I’ll go in first and chat with the young couple. You come on in whenever you feel ready.” He waited for another nod from Marcus and stood up. “This is going to be interesting,” he mused.

Some people are born to argue; a select few are born to win. Bradley Witson was one of the latter. Marie found herself cuddling with him on the narrow bed. Her head lay cradled on his shoulder and she had a leg thrown over one of his. She was tracing lazy figure 8’s on his chest and wondering how she felt so comfortable and safe at this moment in time when she should be anything but.

“What’s so funny?” She’d felt his chuckle as much as she’d heard it.

“It looks like we dusted the entire room for fingerprints with black powder,” he laughed.

Marie snorted. As she had brushed and shaken ash from her hair and clothes it had dried into a fine dust. Any movement set off a tiny tornado and further coated the room. “It serves them right for locking me in that room. If they didn’t want me using the ash they should have done a better job of cleaning.”

“I’ll be sure to suggest that so they’re aware next time,” he chuckled again.

She slid her hand up the front of his shirt and began tracing new patterns with her fingernails. Marie enjoyed the contrast between his soft skin and the smattering of hairs across his chest. “I can’t believe we’re laying here this relaxed.”

“What would pacing around accomplish besides getting the dust everywhere? No, what I can’t believe is they never searched me.”

“The only thing they took from me was my phone. I’m pretty pissed they broke it. What did you smuggle in?”

“A couple of useful things. One of them is digging into my leg right now. Do you mind?” Marie shifted away and Wit removed the small rectangular box from his pocket.

“What is that?”

“It’s half a cell phone.”

“What?”

Wit laughed
at the confused look on her face. “I broke down a cell phone into the two main components, transmitter and receiver. This one doesn’t have a speaker; it’s only a microphone and a very sensitive one at that. I gave the other half to Hirsch. His doesn’t have a microphone, only a speaker. When I push this button,” he pointed at it,” the box uses a satellite signal to connect to its counterpart. The signal can’t be cloned or jammed and it can only connect to the box that it is tied into. I call them the Twins.”

“Did you bring anything else?”

Wit was about to answer when they heard someone unlocking the door. The handle turned but the door couldn’t be opened. Marie had left the chair wedged under the doorknob. They heard a grumble of sorts and then a light knock.

Before he opened the door Wit pushed the button on the side of the transmitter and hid it on a windowsill behind a curtain. He removed the chair from its sentry position and swept the door open. With a swoop of his arm he offered
entrance. ”Gentlemen, please come in.”