The Hostage (15 page)

He set the jammer down, steepled his fingers and looked back at her. “So I figured they picked up a signal of some kind all the way to my door. That means they had bugged you or had some kind of tracking device on you. When you were unconscious, I asked Drake and he told me about the tracking bracelet that you managed to remove at the Rogers Centre. It didn’t make sense at first.” He stopped and looked at the cement ceiling as if he was thinking.

You are the weirdest man I’ve ever met.

“In case I’m ever electronically bugged,” he continued, “my phones, my office, whatever, I have this little baby.” He held up a different device. “It’s a TagFinder. This device searches for and locates things that are emitting a radio signal. And
voila
. Wouldn’t you know it? In the back of your neck, I found a VeriChip.”

Sarah reached up to feel where the stitches were. She put it all together instantly.

So that’s what Rod did. He pulled my hair to cause pain and had his henchman hit me so I wouldn’t ask why the stitches were in my neck.

“What’s a VeriChip?” Sarah asked.

“The VeriChip is a human transplantable tracking device. Although yours was modified for GPS tracking. Quite genius, really. That led me to believe you were working with Rod. How the hell could he have gotten that thing in your neck without you knowing about it? I mean, come on, you’re Sarah Roberts. You are fast becoming a legend in the media.”

She remembered waking in the interrogation room and feeling that maddening headache and having to chew Advil. Then she felt the stitches.

That bastard.

Now she knew what their plan had been from the beginning. And the tracking bracelet for her wrist was like some childish decoy.

She looked at Drake. The understanding of how Rod had tracked them so well was on his face. She nodded with her eyes, ever so slightly that only Drake could notice it.

“The look on your face tells me you’re surprised by what I’m explaining to you. Well, let me tell you, I know people. I have a keen sense of what people desire and how emotions play across their faces. Don’t worry, the VeriChip has been destroyed. Now Rod will never be able to track you again.”

Her stomach dropped. For the first time since she had met Rod in that hotel lobby in Budapest, she really wanted him to track her now. More than ever.

“How did you destroy it?” she asked.

“The VeriChip is just a little bigger than a grain of rice. They’re quite the modern invention really. I looked it up while you slept. The one that was in your neck is a RFID transponder encased in a silicate glass.”

Sarah held up her hand. “What’s RFID stand for?”

“I’m getting to that. Don’t interrupt. We have to discuss this and then I will tell you how I’m going to kill Rod Howley.

Sarah nodded, not liking any of what she heard.

“The PositiveID Corporation, previously known as the VeriChip Corporation, got preliminary approval from the FDA to market its device. It was later revealed the implants could cause cancer. So be happy I’ve removed yours. It wasn’t in long. You still had stitches.” He adjusted himself in the chair and leaned back. “The PositiveID Corp stopped marketing their implantable human microchip by mid-2010. But it’s still used today. For instance, the VeriChip implant is offered for identifying VIP guests at the Baja Beach Club, a nightclub in Rotterdam, Netherlands, among other places. Theoretically, you can physically locate a person by latitude, longitude, altitude, speed, and direction of movement with one of these modified babies. The mindset is you could track your kids going to school. Courts could order them implanted into sex offenders to track their whereabouts.” He laughed at what he thought was a joke. “And what about missing persons?” He laughed again. “Funny how we’re discussing sex offenders and missing persons.”

“You didn’t answer my question. What does RFID stand for?”

It seemed like Elmore had just stepped into another headspace. He looked at the floor, scratched at something on his head and zoned right out.

Sarah saw that Drake was wondering what had happened too.

“That little fucking chip brought the cops to my door,” he mumbled to himself, still staring at the floor. “Now I’m on their scope. After all these years … never making a mistake … and now … I have to kill to stay free.”

Kill? Rod or us?

He blinked and looked up at her. He glanced at Drake and then back to her. “What did you just say?”

“I asked what RFID stands for.”

“Radio frequency identification. You can thank me later when things calm down.”

“Thank you for what?” Sarah asked.

“These chips can be dangerous. They pose a continual risk to the subject who is implanted. If you get too close to a large magnet, it could cause adverse tissue reaction. A person could be burned when the chip reacts to an outside source of EMF radiation, such as a strong electrical field. It would cause serious burns inside and out of the subject wearing it.”

“How did you destroy it?”

“I used a simple microwave oven. That’s all you need. I left it in until it burst into a tiny flame.”

A part of Sarah was furious with Rod for implanting her, but another part of her was happy. Rod had his reasons, as devious as they were, but because of the implant, he was about to determine that the last time it emitted a signal was in or near Elmore’s house. That meant Rod would be back. Whether the Canadians allowed him to or not, he would find a way. He also knew that showing up at Elmore’s door that morning meant, whether Sarah was there willingly or unwillingly, she would be gone soon. Rod would have to act fast, and fast for Rod was right away.

At that moment, she’d rather deal with Rod than with the insane man sitting three feet from her cell door.

Elmore pointed at her. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve thought of it too. I met Rod and I know what kind of man he is. I learned a lot watching him handle the other cops and the questions he had for me. I know he recognized the mount I have on my roof and he knows it’s not for a telescope. Rod won’t stop. But I’ll be waiting. I’ll be ready. If he tries an illegal raid, all of his men will die, including him. I have it all set up. Everything’s covered.”

Elmore stood and pushed the chair back against the far wall. He turned around to face her. “Don’t worry, Sarah. Rod will be out of your life forever soon enough.”

Chapter 25

As Elmore left, he turned out the light, casting the basement into an unforgiving darkness. Drake had heard Sarah use her toilet, but other than that, he couldn’t tell if she had fallen asleep or not.

“I’m sorry, Sarah. I wish I could do something. I’m going crazy stuck in here like a prisoner.”

“It’s not your fault. Rod’s coming. He’ll take care of Elmore and then I’ll be Rod’s prisoner again, but at least his terms are easier to deal with. Besides, if anyone’s at fault, it’s me. Vivian sent me a warning about a fake cop. I missed it. I assumed it was Spencer. I’m the one who should be sorry for getting you into this.”

“Tell me about your sister.”

Drake stretched out on his mattress and listened to the rhythmic tone and beauty of Sarah’s voice. If they ever got out of this alive, he would pursue her aggressively. He could easily see them spending many years together.

Sarah told him about her sister and how Sarah herself hadn’t even known she’d had a sister until five years ago. Vivian had been murdered. The murderer was recently killed in a church an hour drive from Budapest.

Vivian gave Sarah messages and Sarah acted on them. The messages helped people survive accidents and prevented crimes, but sometimes things went wrong, as evidenced by where they were.

That was the reason Rod wanted her. To perform for him so he could include her into some organization called the Sophia Project.

“But I don’t believe him,” Sarah said. “I’m sure it has something to do with the war machine. Get enough real psychics on your side and you could win any war.”

“Yeah, sounds like it.”

“But, I warn you, be ready. Rod is coming and when he does, things may get a little dicey around here. I’m going to do my best to escape him too.”

“I’ll be ready.”

After a minute of silence, Drake said, “I don’t know why Elmore is keeping me alive. We both know he wants you.”

“Probably until the heat goes down. Having an extra hostage can’t do him any harm in the long run.”

“Then let’s sleep in rotating shifts. He’s unpredictable.”

“Agreed,” Sarah said. “You sleep first. I’ll stay awake.”

“No. You sleep. You need your rest.”

“Is that the way it’s going to be with you?”

“What way?”

“Traditional. The man takes care of the woman shit, like letting me sleep first.”

Drake thought about it for a second, not wanting his answer to upset her, but he realized only the truth would work with Sarah. “Yes. It’s the only way. A man must respect a woman. She’s the one with the tough life. She has to bear children. She has to deal with cramps and other shit on a monthly basis. Women get abused by men who want only one thing. Women get paid less at a job while holding the same title as a man. In my opinion, women have the raw deal. But when I deal with the woman in my life, I will put her on a pedestal and treat her as she should be treated. This is who I am and that’s how I feel about it.”

He didn’t get a response.

“You asleep?” he asked.

“No, I’m not,” Sarah said. “What you said is good. Don’t ever change. Good night. I’m sleeping.”

Drake smiled to himself.
That was easy.

“Oh, and Drake?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to give you something to think about. I read once that the reality of psychopaths, homicidal or otherwise, is that they are devious, cunning, and more ingenious and resourceful than the authorities that guard them. Be careful. Be very careful. We are being hunted even in these cages. And remember, fear stands for
false, evidence, appearing, real
. There’s nothing to fear. Just be strong and fight. We’ll walk away from this as long as you believe we will. Life doesn’t owe you, but it does provide opportunities. You can either watch things happen, make things happen or wonder what the fuck happened. Choose well and we’ll make it. Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent. Never give up. I take an interest in my future because I’m going to spend the rest of my life there. You should too. Now, good night, Drake.”

“Good night, Sarah,” he said, half dazed by her speech.

Chapter 26

Elmore had stayed awake all night, waiting for Rod to show. He had been positive Rod would try to see inside his house, spy on him in some way or even attempt to gain access. Without the proper evidence, it would be difficult, but not impossible, for Rod, an American, to get a Canadian search warrant for Elmore’s home.

The motion detectors were activated and Elmore had an earpiece in his left ear, connected to a police scanner, monitoring their traffic in the area. He’d kept the lights in the house off all night and used infrared from his rooftop patio. He’d gone through a pot of coffee and three chocolate bars, but nothing happened as far as he could tell. No one had approached the house. If they had gotten close, they were good. Real good.

They’d have to be Green Berets wearing body length Kevlar to get past what I’ve got set up.

In his line of business, not the selling of used panties, but having one or two teenage girls locked in his basement at any given time, he couldn’t be too careful.

He patted the underside of his each arm and felt both 9mm Mambas right where they should be, snug in their holsters. Both semi-automatics were loaded with a 15-round magazine. He loved his Mambas, named after an African snake known for its deadly venom that left little to no chance of survival.

When he heard that about the Mamba, he knew it was the gun for him. Why else would anyone want a gun unless it’s to shoot someone?
If
you are shooting someone, you want them to have little to no chance of survival.

Elmore scanned the patio where he sat and laughed at how Rod had called it an observatory. It wasn’t an observatory in the classic sense. Sure he observed from up there, but not the stars and planets. He observed the grounds surrounding his home. The mount wasn’t an alt-azimuth mount for a telescope. It was an M122 tripod for his M60 machine gun loaded with armor-piercing rounds that could defeat Kevlar vests. From the ground, only a serious professional would be able to see the minor differences in the mount.

“If it’s good enough for the U.S. military, then it’s good enough for me,” he whispered to himself in the dark.

He pulled off the infrared glasses and set them down beside him. He yanked the earpiece out and took one more look around his property in the little light as the morning sun began its ascent.