Then the shapes came clear to him, and he realized that they were all men, all wearing gas masks. Which must mean they were protecting themselves from something.
The whole picture suddenly came to him in a flash of insight. Before coming in, they must have found a way to flood the house with poison gas.
Poison, oh God, no! He leaned over Olivia, feeling the breath moving in and out of her nose. Whatever it was hadn’t killed her—at least not yet. But it had knocked her as senseless as a stone statue. And it had made his thoughts muzzy because he was tied to her.
One of them spoke. “Looks like she’s out, too.”
Too? That must mean that Gabe was also incapacitated. So the stuff was all over the house. How had they done it?
And Christ, what was he going to do now? He tried again to wake Olivia, but he got no response. Next, he turned to the men and tried to zap them the way he and Olivia had done with the tin cans. But it was no good. He could barely raise a trickle of power. Not on his own and not in his present state, maybe because he and Olivia had drained themselves during their manic practice session. They’d been frantically trying to get ready for trouble. They hadn’t realized how close the danger was, and that they were simply making themselves more vulnerable than ever.
If he could have spoken, he would have filled the room with curses.
“How soon before the gas dissipates?”
“I don’t know exactly. Don’t take any chances. Keep your masks on.”
The command sent a shiver up Travis’s spine. Not so much the words, but the voice from his nightmares. It was Smith. Against all reason, he was here, at Olivia’s house. Somehow, he had found out who she was and where she lived.
Trying desperately to protect her, Travis threw himself across her body, but he had no substance and no damn power. One of the men leaned right through him and rolled her over, grasping her hands so he could cuff her wrists behind her back. Next, he tied her ankles together so that she had no hope of escape. Overkill. But they were taking no chances.
The man straightened, staring down at his captive before looking back at Smith. “That was odd.”
“What?”
“When I leaned over her, I felt something.”
“What?” the hated voice demanded.
“I don’t know. Can’t describe it.” He lifted a shoulder. “Like there was something in my way. I had to push through it.
“Air currents?”
“I dunno.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” came the clipped response. “We’re getting out of here while the getting’s good.”
The other man lifted Olivia over one shoulder like a sack of grain and clasped her bottom as he started for the door.
Travis leaped to block his way, but the energy he and Olivia had generated was simply gone. Still, the guy looked back, probably feeling the same sensation as when he’d leaned down to secure his captive.
Travis clenched his fists, feeling defeat settle over him like one of those heavy blankets they laid over you before they X-rayed your teeth. If he could have thought straight, maybe there was something he could have done. But any realistic course of action eluded him. All he could do was follow along as Smith led the way, and the other guy followed with Olivia.
They reached the den, where they joined up with another man also wearing a gas mask and standing over Gabe. The detective was also out cold and trussed up like a pork roast.
“Time to leave,” Smith muttered, and the two men marched forward with their inert captives.
They came out onto the driveway where an SUV was waiting. When the cargo was loaded inside, the captors all climbed aboard. One of them drove. The other stayed in the back, where the bodies were laid out. Travis squeezed into a bit of remaining space.
Had this car really gotten here so quickly from the Eastern Shore? The mystery of the fast arrival was solved when they came to an open field where a helicopter was waiting.
The SUV pulled to the side, and the cargo was unloaded into the helo. Then they took off with all aboard, including Travis.
On the ride back, Travis scanned the landscape below. He knew the area well and kept his eye out for landmarks as they flew. He recognized Annapolis, then the Bay Bridge. As they approached St. Stephens, he kept his eyes on the roads below. It wasn’t that easy to follow the route, but he thought he could see which turns they were taking, and when they came to a large estate, he saw that it backed onto the Miles River. That must be the river Pete had been talking about. The property was vast, with green lawns, several outbuildings, and a house that was probably the manor of a former plantation.
The helo came down by a large barn which had been modified to serve as the hangar.
More men were waiting on the ground for Smith to arrive, and snapped to attention when he started giving orders.
