Phase one of my plan completed, I embark on part two and enter my apartment. Once I pack a bag, I drive to Dulles Airport, drop off my rental, and as per the email instructions, walk toward the security gate.
Have I made a mistake? Where’s my tail? Adhering to risk mitigation #34, I stop to ask for directions. When I turn, a short, stocky man wearing sunglasses, and a wrinkled navy polyester suit grabs my arm.
“Scream, and you die.” While he whispers in my ear, his hypodermic needle pricks my skin.
There is no way Ledbetter wants me dead, so I call his bluff, inhale, and yell, but nothing comes out.
Oh my Lord, he drugged me? As I collapse on rubbery legs, my attacker smiles at the gathering crowd.
“Thank you for concern. My wife have brain cancer. She have attacks. She take medicine and okay, she be well.” The thick man lifts me into a courtesy shuttle, then nods at the driver.
Hold on! I’m supposed to go through the private jet security station.I blink fast, willing someone to take notice. Surely, the airport’s cams will pick up my unorthodox departure.
“Relax, Dr. Wulf. Relax. We’ll be there in a moment.” Mr. Phony Russian Accent pats my cheek, my lids grow heavy, then drop closed.
I wake unable to move. My heart races as I struggle to wiggle my arms and legs. Am I permanently paralyzed? With my lashes glued to my cheeks, my eyelids initially refuse to lift. All at once, they open, and I gasp.
The bullet-shaped room and the long line of windows cannot be mistaken for anything but a private jet. Unlike the Patten plane, which contained a conference table and chairs, this interior resembles a Fifth Avenue man cave.
Six men rest in leather lounges. One stands and offers drinks. I assume there are two pilots. That’s nine against one.
Fuck. The monitor in front of my nose tells me we’re halfway across the Atlantic. Taking a deep breath, I quiet the tsunami of panic about to crash over me. If the teams follow my project plan, I will return home in no time.
“Ms. Wulf, you’re awake.” An elegant, bearded man in his mid-fifties eases into the seat beside me and swivels until our knees touch.
Perfectly manicured nails reach into his pocket to retrieve a switchblade. He clicks it open, and I suck air as he scratches the sharp tip across my right cheek.
“Fear. Excellent.” Smiling, he lowers his weapon’s metal edge to the rope binding my hands together. A quick flick of his wrist, and the fibers drop to the floor.
“I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but I had to ensure you wouldn’t run. Forgive my manners, I’m Thomas Ledbetter.” Upon freeing my ankles, he pats my arm.
Using superhuman willpower, I hold back the puke threatening to spew and shoot him my best smile. “No problem. By the way, it’s Doctor Wulf. Did the FBI receive your video?”
He opens his phone and places the murder link under my nose. “Are you willing to fulfill your obligation?”
My head bobs up and down at my pathetic attempt to appear enthusiastic. “Yes, of course. This is what we agreed upon. And, if you’re happy with my work, in a month, I hope you’ll let my daughter join me.”
“You are not what I expected.” His long perusal up and down my body reminds me of fingernails on a chalkboard.
After I swallow my disgust, I pretend to return his unspoken sexual appreciation. If the man wasn’t an evil sonofabitch, I might consider his classic Italian face handsome. He has thick dark lashes, high cheekbones, and plump lips. His shiny nails turn me off, but a particular class of woman would no doubt call him irresistible.
“Do you like what you see?” Brown eyes focus on my chest.
Risk mitigation #54 in mind, I shrug and play coy. “Hmm, perhaps…Hard to tell with all those clothes on.”
His reptilian smile resembles an angry Komodo dragon, only hungrier and creepier. “We can explore those options later.”
When he squeezes my thigh, I resist the urge to slap his face. My timeline depends on his belief that I find him attractive.
“Where are we going?” While I speak, the moonlight shines and paints the clouds below in silver light.
“My home.” Standing, he grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. “I have a well-equipped lab there and a staff waiting for you. You will want for nothing. Sleep now. I will expect you to start work the moment we land.”
Confident I can lead his team in circles, I nod. “What kind of RF weapon are you creating?”
His chuckle sends a chill down my spine. “Old news, cherie. I have assembled a group of brilliant minds which will blow you away.”
“Care to fill me in?”
