What if I never see him again? A huge wave of despair hovers over me, then slams me to the brink of suicide. The only thing keeping me from falling is him finding out I gave up. He would never forgive me or himself.
As we cook in our own juices, the truck rolls on, and my never-ending nightmare continues.
Chapter Twenty
Suds
One of Patten’s cube geeks pops his head above the fabric wall. “Sebastian. You here?”
Heads turn as I race down the aisle, my pulse quickening. “What? Did you find her?”
“You recognize that?” The twenty-something-year-old points a tatted arm to one of his three desk monitors.
“A-Ah, y-yeah.” My voice falters as I picture the day I gave Sam her diamond ring and promised to keep her safe forever. “Is sh-she…?”
Milliseconds seem like hours while I wait for the guy to answer my fucking question. A vision of her lovely form laid out on a cold slab comes to mind and tears well. How the hell will I live without her?
The investigator flashes a picture of a Ford Explorer onto the screen. “We don’t know but this is one of the vehicles Jason tagged as suspect.”
He zooms out to reveal an underground parking lot. “Mall security located the abandoned car and called it in. The feds found her ring between the seat cushions. We’re getting closer.”
Although I appreciate his optimism, time is running out. The police have been notified for miles around but there’s too many private airports to watch them all.
Fuck, I need to focus. “What time did they switch vehicles?”
“According to the mall cameras, the car pulled in around noon.”
“Where?”
“Outside Philly.”
“Phone the AI app. Send it a link to our findings.”Dammit.By now, Sam could be anywhere, including over the Atlantic. My back teeth clench and my fists tighten by my side. We need to move faster.
The geek places a video call and a familiar avatar pops up. “Hello Utpal. How can I help?”
I squat so the damn thing can see my face. “Access satellite feeds with GPS coordinates pointing near the mall. Starting around eleven, search major highways, and find anyone exiting a dark SUV.”
“Give me a moment, please.” Jason appears as if he’s typing at a keyboard and if I wasn’t so goddamn anxious, I’d be impressed at the programming it must’ve taken to make him seem so real.
Ten minutes pass like sixty but eventually, he sends a grainy satellite feed of a tractor-trailer parked alongside a busy highway. A dark vehicle pulls in front and two men exit. Heads lower into the back seat and when Sam’s blond one emerges, my heart jumps.
She’s alive.
As I watch our two women being led into the back of the truck, Andy kneels beside me. “You will find those fuckers and you will kill them. I’ll make sure you don’t get jail time.”
“Copy that.” My fingers curl around a virtual weapon.
“Wait a minute.” The geek types into Jason’s chat window and a satellite photo of an airfield appears on another screen. “This is Signature Airport, just outside of DC.”
When he zooms in, my new-found hope fizzles.
“Fuck!” About a dozen light-haired women walk across the tarmac and climb into a private jet.
Slate, who I didn’t even know was standing behind me, takes the lead. “Jason, where is this plane headed?”
“Dubai.” The avatar’s image speaks from a small square at the bottom right of the screen.
“Get the Secretary of State on the phone and send them everything you have.” My boss stands up straight and shouts, “Finn, where the hell are you?”
