Colby Core (8 page)

Mixed emotions twisted in her chest. All this time she'd been certain no one was coming. That there wasn't anyone out there big enough or brave enough to be the savior she'd prayed for.

Yet here was this man, standing right in front of her, claiming to be exactly what she'd asked for.

She couldn't help herself. She hugged him. “Thank you.” She closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of the man. “I've waited so long for you to come.”

His arms went around her, held her tight. “Those aren't the only reasons I came.”

She drew back, looked into his eyes. Worry rising again. “I don't understand.”

“I came for you.”

The air trapped beneath her breast. Was that possible? Could someone out there still care if she were dead or alive?

“One of my colleagues from the Colby Agency,” he explained, “Von Cassidy, saw you at the Chicago transfer location. She thought she recognized you.” He smoothed a hand over her tousled hair. “You're going to be safe now, Tessa. You have my word.”

12:05 p.m.—45 hours, 55 minutes remaining

Riley drove to the nearest convenience store. He still had no cash so using a pay phone was out of the question. They'd searched the SUV and the truck for loose change. No such luck. Using her cell phone presented its own kind of risks considering the owner of the account could pull up any and all calls made from the line. Riley had turned off the phone, removed its battery and stored the two in the glove box.

They'd abandoned the SUV in favor of the truck. The tracking devices Tessa believed to be embedded subcutaneously would still allow the Master to monitor their movements, but at least he wouldn't have a description of the vehicle.

The convenience store was a little more crowded than the previous one and the only cashier in sight was male. Didn't bode well for Riley.

“I can do it,” Tessa said, looking from the
storefront to Riley and apparently understanding his hesitancy.

He wasn't so sure about allowing her to go inside and use the phone alone. As much as he wanted to trust her and felt confident she wanted to bring down this network the same as he did…she was still a risk.

“You don't trust me.”

It wasn't a question. His hesitation had given him away. “I want to trust you. But I have to be realistic.

You've spent a lot of time with these people. It's only logical that their ideology may have influenced the way you think. Fear is a strong motivator.”

She worried her lower lip with her teeth before answering. “I understand.”

That was it? He'd expected more.

He made a decision he hoped he wouldn't regret. “You know what, you should do it.”

Surprise flared in those pale blue eyes.

“You make the call but there's a list of things we need.” He opened the glove box and fished out the pencil he'd noticed there when he'd stored the cell phone. The back of the truck registration would have to work for a notepad.

“This is the number for Levi Stark.” He scrawled Stark's cell number. “You met him earlier.”

She nodded. “I remember.”

“Tell him we need to meet ASAP. Cash, communications and supplies. A scanner to determine if you're carrying tracking devices and portable jam
mers to use at our discretion. And any word on this.” He tapped his steel necklace.

Her eyes widened as if she'd only just recalled the urgency related to the necklace. “Anything else?”

“That's it.” He handed her the list.

A frowned formed on her smooth forehead as she reviewed the list. “The jammers are for blocking the tracking devices I'm carrying?” She looked to him for clarification.

“That's right, but we will only use them if necessary,” he assured her. “Be sure to get detailed directions for the meet.”

“Okay.”

Riley watched her hustle up to the entrance. His fingers clenched around the steering wheel. Forty-five hours. A muscle throbbed in his jaw. He'd been in tight, deadly situations before. But he'd always been able to use strategy to find a way around any obstacle.

There was no logic for this situation. Nothing he could do. He didn't need anyone to tell him that even if he accomplished the goal the Master had set, the man was not going to allow him to live.

Tessa's turn in line came and she smiled broadly at the man behind the counter. Even from this distance the smile was brilliant. He hadn't seen her do that before. Of course, she hadn't actually had that much to smile about in her young life.

He hoped he would be able to help change that.

When Tessa stepped to the far end of the counter, the cashier met her there and appeared to pass a
phone to her. Riley surveyed the parking lot and the street behind him. He didn't doubt that one or more of the master's henchmen were tracking their movements from someplace nearby.

He wasn't sure he could do anything about that, since Tessa believed the devices to be embedded. Most likely they would simply have to live with them.

Four minutes passed before Tessa hurried back to the truck. “He'll meet us in half an hour.” She thrust a couple of napkins at him. “Detailed directions.”

She'd made a lot of notes. Good.

He passed the napkins back to her. “You be the navigator.”

Her fingers threaded through her hair as she studied her notes.

Her hair was the most unusual shade of blond. Like the photos of angel hair. Pale, silky, long. Her skin was almost as pale, smooth, soft-looking. And the eyes. The lightest sky-blue. She looked far younger than her age but could talk the talk of the trade when necessary.

He got the impression that to some degree she'd been protected. He hadn't figured out that aspect of her position in the “family” just yet. Maybe when she trusted him more, they could explore those missing years together.

Maybe.

1:15 p.m.—44 hours, 45 minutes remaining

S
TARK GAVE
R
ILEY THE BAD NEWS.

“That settles it then,” Riley announced, hoping to
end the debate. There was nothing to be done at this point.

“Mr. Porter,” Agent Ross said, his tone grave as he reiterated what Stark had already laid out, “I would strongly recommend that you come with me to the lab and let our specialized techs attempt to take care of this hazardous situation. Before it's too late.”

Tessa kept quiet but the widening of her eyes told him she was worried. About him? Maybe. About the kids? Definitely.

Three hours into the countdown and reaching out to Renwick hadn't hit the agenda yet.

Time was running out fast.

“As far as I'm concerned,” Riley restated, “the decision is made. We have to go through with the task assigned by this bastard. I believe this is either a test before allowing me into his ‘family' or it's a distraction for some purpose we can't see yet. Whichever it is,” he said before Stark or Ross could interrupt, “there's only one way to find out.”

Stark was shaking his head before Riley finished talking. “I've already spoken to Victoria and Jim. They are not in agreement with that strategy.”

Victoria Colby-Camp and her son, Jim Colby, headed the Colby Agency. Going against the chain of command was not the norm at the Colby Agency. But this situation was far too delicate to risk any other route. Victoria, of all people, was well aware of the tenuous situation. An operation involving missing children was different from any other. Jim, her
own son, had been abducted as a child. Her granddaughter had been targeted just last year. She might not like what Riley was about to do, but she would understand.

“It's the only way.” Riley put up his hands to stop the rest of the protests. “Tessa and I have to get moving. We're all in agreement that time is short. If I hope to survive this operation, much less succeed, we need to work fast.”

Ross shook his head. “I can't argue your reasoning, Porter, but there's another issue here.”

Tessa moved closer to Riley as if she sensed this was going to be detrimental to the children's safety. Riley could see that coming himself.

“We can't pretend there aren't children at that compound being held hostage,” Ross began. “To do so would be wrong on too many levels to name.”

Tessa was the one shaking her head this time. “You have to believe me when I say that if the Master so much as feels your presence, the children will die first. You'll have no one to save.”

The fear and desperation in her voice tugged at Riley's chest. “She's telling you the truth,” he confirmed. His instincts urged him to trust Tessa on that one. Riley preferred following his instincts. “This man is ruthless. He'll do anything to protect himself. If he escapes, he'll just set up shop someplace else in a heartbeat. And what will we have accomplished?”

“I don't doubt what you're saying,” Ross agreed. “My point is that we have to do something. Get into
position well out of the compound's security zone. I'll use agents and law enforcement from outside the state of Louisiana if necessary. There will be no leaks. We'll stand by until we're told to move in. But, at least, we'll be in position.”

Riley looked to Tessa for her reaction.

“I'm certain he has local law enforcement contacts,” she said. “If anyone around here knows your plan, he will know it.”

“I will personally make sure that doesn't happen,” Ross guaranteed.

“And you won't move in until you receive the okay from Riley or from me,” she pressed.

Ross balked at that suggestion. “I can't guarantee that stipulation, ma'am. The safety of the hostages must be paramount.”

“We're the only ones who will know what's happening in real time,” Riley backed her up. “Taking the okay from anyone else would be a mistake.”

Ross heaved a frustrated breath. “This could cost me my job, but…agreed.”

“And,” Riley added for good measure, “I want Stark involved. Up close and personal,” he said directly to Ross.

“No problem,” the agent allowed. “I'll take anyone from the Colby Agency I can get.”

“Jim is calling in markers,” Stark passed along, “he's running down the best explosives techs in the country. If anyone can locate someone who can neutralize that contraption, Jim can.”

Riley was glad to hear it. Jim Colby wouldn't let him down. If a technique existed, he would find it.

“I don't like the idea that this Master guy will know your every move,” Stark said. Ross's team had confirmed that Tessa carried at least three subcutaneous tracking devices.

“If we try to shield the tracking devices he might make a move we're trying to avoid,” Riley countered. “We'll only use the jammers if absolutely necessary and for short bursts. We can't afford to make him nervous.”

“It's your call.” Stark picked up the sports bag at his feet and passed it to Riley. “Cash, ID, secure cell phone, portable jamming device and toothbrushes.” Stark smiled but the expression was seriously lack-luster. “Anything else?”

Riley slung the bag over his shoulder. “That'll do it for now.”

“We've placed a tracking device on the truck,” Stark went on, “so we'll know your location at all times. Be warned—” he sent Riley a stern look “—we get down to two hours and we're bringing you in. No matter where you are or what you're doing.”

That was likely as close to his way as Riley was going to get. He shook hands with Ross, then with Stark. “Thank you, gentlemen. We'll be in touch.”

He turned his back before Ross or Stark could come up with another reason Riley shouldn't go through with this. As far as he could see he had no choice.

Tessa had settled into the passenger seat of the old green truck by the time Riley slid behind the wheel. He placed the sports bag on the floor between them.

Riley started the engine and drove away from the school parking lot. With no school in session, the rear parking lot had worked well as a rendezvous location. He didn't give himself a chance to second-guess his decision about the explosive device. It was the right decision.

“We should make a call to your contact for Renwick.” He glanced at Tessa who stared out the passenger-side window. “We've wasted too much time already.” Especially considering the decision he'd just made.

She turned to him. “Were you telling the truth when you said you came here to find me?”

“Yes.”

Her silence filled the next half a mile or so. “And you're really willing to risk your life—” she glanced at the bomb around his neck “—to save the children and stop the Master?”

They'd been over this already. “Yes.” She'd heard the strategy discussion back there the same as he had. Why all the questions now?

She started chewing that full lower lip again. This was a dangerous game she'd been thrust into. He could see how she would be afraid, no matter how strong she tried to appear.

But they couldn't let any more time slip by.

“Make the call,” he urged. “We can't wait any longer.”

“There's a problem.” She stared at her hands as she spoke.

Riley resisted the impulse to scrub a hand over his face. Too many achy bruises for that. “What problem?” They didn't exactly need any more problems at this point. One step forward and two back was getting old.

“I can't make the call.”

Riley braked for the stop sign at the intersection, a cold, hard knot of dread forming in his gut. “What precisely does that mean?”

“I know the names.” She dared to meet his gaze but only for a second. “I've seen Phipps once. But I don't know him or Renwick. I don't have their telephone numbers. I don't…know how to reach them.”

The dread morphed into something like defeat. She had to be kidding. The whole operation hinged on contacting one of those two.

“I should've told you already,” she offered, “but there was never a proper time.”

“This is definitely not a proper time.” He rolled through the intersection, picking up speed.

He could call Stark. Have him get the names run through the agency's research department. Through the Bureau's system. But those things would take time. They didn't have time.

“I do know,” she said quietly, her own defeat evident in her voice, “this one man who might be able to
help us. He's done work for Renwick before. I know that for sure. But he might refuse to talk to us.”

Hope squashed the defeat that had sprouted in Riley's brain. “You let me worry about that. Direct me to him, and I'll get what we need.”

“Okay.”

Their gazes met as he braked for the next intersection.

“I won't keep anything from you again.”

“That would be helpful.” He centered his attention on the road and kept driving as she provided the directions to their next destination.

He wouldn't be cutting her as much slack again. No matter that she'd likely been through things he couldn't even fathom. He needed her on the up and-up with him. From this second forward.