Blind Rage: Team Red, Book 4 (15 page)

Bastian paused, glancing at Red, reaching out a hand to scratch the dog’s ears, I watched his mouth form words for Red to relay.

“Bas has a combination of heat-seeking and streaming video drones. He’ll be looking for four heat signatures. It’s been almost three hours since we talked. Bas said it’s almost seven a.m. We’ve called Russ, so the Wild Horses are on the way. With the snowfall, it will take thirty minutes to get here.”

How much snow. I hear someone awake.

“Bas wants to verify the garage is attached to the house. That would help narrow down the search. Most of the houses close by have detached garages on the alley.”

Attached. House has fireplace.

“
We have had about two feet since Friday. It’s over Tank’s head. I almost lost him yesterday, but he started howling so Fritz and I found him. He slid off the deck into the berm. It’s a good thing he’s so loud. I’d been watching him,”
Red was quick to reassure me,
“but he slipped off the far end, so I had to go around to the stairs and cut a trail to look for him. Puppies sure get into a lot of mischief.”

Red’s nervous chatter was endearing. While I was grateful he could not sense my pain and fear, I wished I had some way to reassure him.

“Okay, Bas has programed a grid pattern and we’ll release the drones. He will drive us around some more to help triangulate while the drones search.”

I smiled with realization, Red now knew the word triangulate. Red watched Bastian open his car door, balancing the computer briefcase on the hood of the SUV. Bas placed the twelve drones evenly spaced, about a foot apart, on the plowed surface of the road. Ever curious, Red crossed over the driver seat to hop down through the open door. Red moved immediately to sit at a spot beside Bas’ thigh, but was no longer looking at the man, more interested in the drones. I could feel him fight the impulse to leap on them.

As a unit, the drones lifted off the ground, hovering together in perfect symmetry. When they reached approximately thirty feet up, possibly higher, clearing the telephone lines, the drones suddenly split off, darting in separate directions.

The search was on.

“Wow, Teresa! Did you see that? These drones are wayyyyyy faster than the ones at the house!”

Bastian and Red settled back in the vehicle. Through Red, I watched Bas make some swift keystroke adjustments to whatever he was watching on his monitor. After a minute or two, he placed the open case on a bracket mounted on the dashboard. He was now able to see the computer and access the keyboard while driving—I’m sure that broke a half-dozen laws.

Before placing his vehicle in gear, Bas cupped Red’s head to link their gazes. I didn’t need Red’s translation, I saw the words on his lips and in his eyes.

“I love you, Babe. I’m coming for you.”

Chapter Fifteen

I was still having problems shaking off the effects of the last drug dose. It was hard to stir from the prone position I’d adopted in the center of the garage. Would I ever be warm again? Based on time information Red last relayed, Grainger would be checking on me soon to go through the ritual: bathroom, water, pizza, needle. Red had his head out the window as Bas drove up and down streets, stopping periodically to tweak the drones. At one point, the mind-sight link abruptly blacked out, but I took that as a positive sign. They knew where I wasn’t.

“I let Bas know I lost the mind-sight. We have a secret code,”
Red explained.
“One bark means we have mind-speak. Two barks means we have mind-sight. When I growl, Bas knows I lost whichever connection. The growl was my idea,”
he added proudly.

The emotion didn’t reach my face, but inside I smiled at their version of the childhood Hot-Cold game. It only took a few minutes for the visual link to reestablish. The first thing I saw was Bas putting the vehicle in park while he did some lengthy changes to the drone program. I saw his mouth moving while he spoke, and I assumed he was talking to Red until my dog said,
“Bas is on the phone with Russ. Did you know he could talk to his car and it makes phone calls? Call. Russell. Thomas
,” he mimicked.
“Totally awesome. Anyway, when we lost mind-sight, Bas shifted the drones to a different quadrant. You’ll have to tell me later what a quadrant is. Russ is almost here, but will park by the main road. We don’t want a lot of car noise alerting the bad guys we’re coming.”

Red stuck his head out the window again, and I caught a quick movement in the trees—probably one of the drones. The vehicle went into motion again, and Red ducked back into the car to look down at the laptop Bas had placed on the passenger floorboard making room in the vehicle dock for the drone monitor. Seeing myself stretched out on the concrete floor reminded me of how chilled I was. Belatedly, I realized it should be colder in the room due to the snow. I finally registered the sound of a space heater, oscillating from an area to my right. I would have preferred a pillow and a blanket, but I suppose I should be thankful they gave me a heater. Of course, now I was creeped out someone had been moving around in the room while I was unconscious.

I heard a toilet flush. Damn.

Surprisingly, it was another ten minutes or so before the door opened and Grainger asked, “Awake yet?”

“Getting there,” I slurred weakly. “Feeling groggier than last time. A little queasy.” I hoped to delay the next injection by feigning an upset stomach and slow recovery. Wary of his threat to send Adamson or Banner to assist me, I’d decided to always answer him when he asked me questions. That didn’t mean I couldn’t exaggerate my state of mind.

Red must have alerted Bas to movement on the monitor. In my mind, Red said,
“Lights out, Teresa. We don’t want you to give anything away.”

My world went black as I focused on what Grainger said to me.

“Well, let’s get the bathroom out of the way,” he replied. “We ordered breadsticks with dinner last night; they may be easier on your stomach than pizza.”

As usual, he cut the tape from my wrists and ankles with a knife. He’d gotten into the habit of placing my hand on the crook of his elbow as he led me slowly through the house. This time, as we turned the corner from what I think was the mudroom, into a hallway, a sharp wolf whistle alarmed me so badly, I stumbled and fell against the wall, bumping my head on a doorframe. Holy moly! That hurt. I guess I really wasn’t all that sturdy on my feet yet.

“Grow up, Adamson. Christ, that goddamned noise even startled me. Unlike Miss March, I’m apt to pull out a gun and shoot your ass.”

Adamson’s voice was coming toward us. “Aww, come on, boss. A half-naked broad is traipsing through the house, just flaunting herself. The least I could do is show my appreciation.” Fetid breath, a fascinating combination of cigarettes, beer, and bad oral health, wafted across my face as the big man brushed close, making a point to rub his groin across my hip. I had to hold back the smirk and smart-ass comment as I realized he was not size proportionate, even semi-erect. Ha, I’m betting my balls were bigger than his.

Grainger pressed a palm against my spine and motioned me past Adamson. I managed to keep my feet under me, but halted after a couple steps, as I wasn’t sure how far we’d progressed down the hallway. My captor must have realized my dilemma, capturing my wrist he placed my hand on the doorknob to the bathroom.

“I assume you know the layout by now,” he said. “Go ahead and close the door this time.”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll only be a minute.” It was a show of mercy, as I hadn’t heard Adamson continue down the hall. I assume he had stopped with the intention of watching me. Pervert.

Not wanting to lose this small privilege of privacy, even though I was confident I was about to be rescued, I hurried through my standard routine, feeling grateful as my hands warmed for a moment under the faucet. Swishing water around in my mouth, I also used a finger as a faux toothbrush to wipe away some of the sour taste from the drugs.

I opened the bathroom door, waiting patiently for Grainger to wrap my fingers around his arm and escort me back to the garage. Adamson was in a nearby room, chatting with Banner about retiring in Fiji. If they managed to get away, I was positive a trip to the South Seas would be on Bastian’s short list. Such idiots to speak so freely around a captive—then again, maybe they really had no intention of leaving me alive. That thought sent a chill spearing through me.

A gentle tug on my arm reminded me to continue my pace alongside Grainger.

“It feels colder. Thank you for the heater, but would you consider returning my clothes?”

“Your clothing was destroyed when Banner removed it. The heater will have to be enough.” His tone was somewhat impatient, so I dropped the subject, not wanting to antagonize him. I heard the scrape of chair legs before Grainger directed me to sit on the seat he explained was angled so I faced the wall mounted camera. “I’ll grab a bottle of water and some of the bread sticks. Stay put. You move from this spot, and you lose your remaining clothing,” he warned. “When I get back, we’re making a call to your boyfriend.”

I listened to Grainger’s retreating footsteps. He didn’t close the garage door, but I was aimed away from it, and for the first time, my hands were free. No longer restricted to signing letters of the alphabet, I used a combination of ASL and our Team shorthand to send a quick message to Bas.

Grainger will be right back. Getting ready to call you. Hope you brought clothes. I don’t think I’ll ever feel warm again. Love you. Can’t wait to get home.

Without reestablishing mind-sight, Red replied for Bas.
“We’re close. Bas says you’re in one of three houses. Bas is calling Henry. Henry will say Bas is not available, he’s en route to the airport to pick up David. Bas hopes they won’t drug you right away, so you’ll be awake for a later phone call.”

Wow, that’s right. It was Sunday already, but…

I thought David was flying in later this afternoon.

“Bas hopes they don’t know David’s schedule. After all, they didn’t even know he’d left the state. If Grainger challenges the arrival time, Henry will say David caught an earlier flight. At this point, Russ and Bas want to buy extra time so they can get into place to storm the house.”

I hear someone coming.

“Bas says he’ll warm you up,”
Red added.
“We are close, Teresa. You’ll be home soon.”

I began briskly rubbing my hands together and blowing warm breath on my closed fists, hoping the actions would disguise my ASL hand movements—in case Grainger had caught any of my covert activity.

“There was only one bread stick remaining, Miss March, so I brought it as well as another slice of pizza.” A bottle of water was tapped against my hands, signaling I should reach out to grab it. The cap had already been removed, so I canted the bottle and thankfully swallowed the cool liquid. “Hand out. I have the pizza first. I zapped it this time, so it’s warm.”

“Thank you,” I replied. It was good to have something warm in my stomach, even if it was pizza. Again. This time it was simple pepperoni and cheese. I was nibbling on the breadstick before Grainger spoke again.

“I’m calling your house, Miss March. It’s time to let them know our terms for your return. You are to remain quiet. If you speak without my permission, you will be drugged again, and Adamson will escort you on your next bathroom break. Have I made myself clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Excellent. Feel free to continue your breakfast while I dial,” he added graciously. I could hear the dial tones, letting me know the call was on speakerphone.

“March residence. Henry speaking,” Henry formally answered.

“This is Mr. Smith. I’d like to speak with Mr. Declan, please.” My, my, everyone was so polite. Who knew there was ransom call decorum?

“I’m sorry, sir. Mr. Declan won’t be back for another hour. He’s picking up Mr. Preston at the airport. He left about,” there was a pause as Henry pretended to consult a clock, “fifty minutes ago. I believe Mr. Preston’s plane is landing right about now.”

Grainger didn’t reply immediately, obviously not expecting Bas to have left the vicinity of the phone, let alone the house. Picking up David would be the only valid excuse Grainger might accept. “Very well. It’s almost seven-thirty now. I will call back at nine to give them a little extra time in case of traffic. It is best I speak with both of them anyway.” Without saying goodbye, Grainer disconnected the call, which had lasted less than a minute.

“Miss March, you get a reprieve from the benzo,” my captor said.

“What’s benzo?”

“Short for benzodiazepine, the sedative we are using for your continued cooperation,” Grainger explained, the name of the drug slipping fluently off his tongue.

“Can’t we just use the honor system?” I asked, pseudo-hopefully. “That stuff gives me a bad case of cotton mouth, not to mention the nausea and grogginess when I come out of it.”

“Those can be some of the milder side effects. Unfortunately for you, I’m not feeling the trust, Miss March. It’s safer for you, and less hassle for us, to keep you constantly sedated. If Preston and Declan cooperate, you should be home in the next couple days.”

I took another gulp of my water, before responding, “Do you truly believe they will hand over their project to you?” I felt it best not to acknowledge my suspicion Grainger and his crew were most likely hoping for the military password codes which accompanied the program. The passcodes would be changed by the military, almost immediately after the software was installed, but they were necessary for the initial upload so it would integrate properly with preexisting military programs. David had numerous fail-safes in place to guard the military data from virtual piracy. The only way to get access to the codes was if David allowed it.

“You better hope so,” Grainger responded simply. “For now, I’m feeling generous. I can tape you to the chair, or place you back on the floor, while we wait for nine o’clock to roll around.”

If I was bound to the chair, he’d likely bind my wrists behind me, so I couldn’t sign to the camera. “Floor, please. At least I can stretch and change positions; not to mention, I could inch closer to the heater to warm up a little.”

Grainger made quick work of re-taping my ankles and hands, behind me, of course. I made sure to curl up, facing the heater which left my hands angled toward the camera lens. Luckily, the chair was scooted back from the center of the floor, so the view to my fingers should be unimpeded.

The door closed and latched behind him, and I heard Grainger’s footsteps move away. I signed what new information I had gathered.

Drug called benzo. Garage door has deadbolt. I am locked in.

“Lights on,”
Red warned as Bas’ face replaced the darkness. Once again, Red’s snout was cupped in his hands, and a look of profound relief filled his eyes. “We found you,” he mouthed, before Red repeated it for me.

“Bas says the Mustangs are almost in place. They will strike fast. Roll in the direction of the camera to the end of the tool bench, where the chair is. Get as much of your body wedged between the bench and chair as possible. There doesn’t appear to be anything else in the garage to shield you if there’s gunfire.