“Let’s go,” Beardo said, ushering him out into the terminal and through the crowds to the exit.
Outside, the men urged him toward a large black SUV with tinted windows. Someone must have bribed the airport cops because no one was yelling at the car to move along. Beardo opened the door and urged Jason into the backseat, where he was quickly sandwiched between the two goons again.
The driver eased them expertly into traffic as soon as the back door closed. Jason kept his mouth shut and watched out the window as they merged onto Highway 1 and then took the 105 east. The car was silent except for the noise of the road and the two big guys next to him breathing.
Twenty minutes later, he was still high on adrenaline, hyper vigilant and itching to make a move when the car left the freeway at Vermont and took a series of turns through a largely industrial area before stopping in front of a roll-up door on a two-story warehouse. He wasn’t super solid on LA geography yet, but he was pretty sure they were in Gardena, or maybe Inglewood. Not that knowing would help him right now. Especially once the door opened and they drove straight into a cavernous space murkily lit by dirty skylights.
Was Emma here? From the backseat, all he could see was another big SUV in white, and an empty room with concrete floors.
Surely by now Todd would’ve realized Jason was missing. Had he found the phone Saber’s goons had dumped? Was he even now meeting up with Emma’s coworkers as per their original plan?
Tattoo yanked Jason out of the car and pushed him against the door, producing a nine-mil as inducement not to move.
His partner came around carrying a small black device, probably a bug sniffer. Steele had a whole stash of them. Beardo held the little receiver a couple inches away from Jason’s body and swept him front and back, head to toe. Jason held his breath—moment of truth—but the sniffer never alarmed and the guard declared him clean.
Smothering his sigh of relief, Jason used his tongue to position the GPS device between his teeth, and bit down until he felt a detent. He moved it back into its original place and sent up a quick prayer that it worked. GPS wasn’t super accurate indoors, but this transmitter’s signal could also hitch a ride on WiFi or nearby phones, similar to how the small tracking tags that people put on their keys worked.
“Well,” a man said, approaching from beneath a set of metal stairs that led up to an enclosed room. “You’re even larger than I expected.” He gave Jason an oily smile and patted Tattoo’s arm. “Good thing I sent the big guns.” The aging frat boy in expensive jeans and oxfords had receding brown hair and a sunburned nose that looked in need of a swift punch. He nodded to his guards. “Let’s get started.”
“Where’s Emma?” Jason didn’t want to give away how much he cared, but that ship had probably sailed when he hopped on the first available plane to LA at this man’s behest.
Saber laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll have a front row seat to the show.”
Jason’s heart plummeted. What did that mean?
Saber watched him with dark eyes, his expression eager as he crossed his arms and smirked. “She’s been less than cooperative, so I’ve decided to change tactics. By the time I’m done with her, you’ll be singing like a canary.”
Jason’s skin turned hot, his ears pounded, and his vision narrowed to nothing but the man in front of him. Without thought, he clenched his fists and tackled the motherfucker.
Emma rubbed her fingers over the ink tube she’d liberated from the inside of the ball point pen before Goon One came and took it away, along with the paper on which she’d written FUCK YOU. The walking steroid hadn’t noticed the pen was empty, or that she’d tucked the narrow stick of ink under the waistband of her underwear. He’d merely shaken his head at her note and roped her hands behind her before zip-tying her ankles together, all while Goon Two held her at gunpoint.
As weapons went, the tiny plastic cylinder wasn’t much, but she could poke out an eye with it, stab a neck or an ear… She could be as creative as necessary if given the opportunity.
The first thing she did was use it to release the catch on the zip ties at her ankles. The rope was more stubborn. It was rough hemp, and knotted too tightly for her to move her arms to the front of her body. Without much leverage or visibility, she was unable to insert the ink stick into the knot to help loosen it. After five futile minutes her hands had started to cramp, and her shoulders ached.
She was contemplating her options when the faint clanking of the garage door brought her to her feet. The small prison brightened momentarily before the door began to fall again.
Sidling along the wall, she peeked around the edge of the window.Jason!He was here.Oh, no. No no no no no.She had to get him out of this. He might be pissed at her, he might never forgive her for lying to him, but his sense of honor had driven him here anyway.
And now he stood between two SUVs talking to Earl, surrounded by four mammoth guards, one of whom had a gun pointed at him.
His lips moved but she couldn’t hear his voice.
Earl responded and shrugged before crossing his arms with a smug-ass smile that made her gut churn.
Oh, God. The anger on Jason’s face, the devastation… What had Earl said?
Without warning, Jason launched himself at their kidnapper, connecting a punch with the jerk’s nose before taking him down to the floor. Blood spurted everywhere, and the goons rushed forward, one of the guards pointing a gun at the men rolling on the floor, but probably afraid to shoot lest he hit Earl.
Or maybe he had orders to keep Jason alive.Please don’t hurt him.
She looked frantically around the room for something, anything to help her get free. The bucket and a disposable plastic water bottle, which Goon Two had brought with the pen and paper, were her only tools.
Down on the floor, two of the guards were attempting to wrest Jason off of Earl. He flailed and punched, getting in a kick to Earl’s side, but he was no match for that much muscle. Her throat tightened. Not sure what else to do, she turned sideways and started hitting the window with her elbow. Maybe he could take advantage of the distraction?
Two of the men were helping Earl to his feet, one of them holding a towel to the man’s face. Earl glanced up at the noise she made, his eyes narrowing.
“I hope your nose is broken.” Her elbow protested, but she didn’t stop pounding the window until Jason looked up.
