Colby Agency: Decoded Part 9

But she could see nothing except shadows and faint patches of light from the moon and the sole streetlamp at the end of the block.

She visually measured the distance between where she stood and Lavena's flat.

Then she ran.

Footfalls slammed against the cobblestone street behind her.

Whoever was out there was coming!

Maggie burst into the flat and shoved the door shut behind her. Her fingers fumbled with the lock. She jammed it into place just in time for something-a boot or body-to ram into the door.

She backed away. The slamming against the door shook it. A weapon. She needed a weapon. Half running, half stumbling, she rushed around the room. Yanked out a cabinet drawer and searched its offerings, then another and another. She encountered cold steel. She wrapped her fingers around the biggest knife in the drawer.

The wooden door splintered and a scream bolted from her throat.

There was no place to hide.

No back door.

No time to figure out how to get a window open.

She headed for the bathroom.

The front door burst inward as she slammed the bathroom door shut and locked it.

Boot heels echoed on the tile floor just outside the bathroom door.

Like the bathroom upstairs, this one had no window, no escape.

The intruder b.u.mped against the bathroom door and Maggie held out the knife in front of her. She tried to slow her breathing, to calm down. She had to be prepared to fight or she would end up dead just like Lavena and her grandson.

Her baby. Dear G.o.d, she hadn't protected her baby.

Agony swelled so swiftly that spots floated in front of her eyes.

No. She grabbed back control. She had to be strong.

The door splintered menacingly, allowing the lock to give way. The door flew open and a man filled the doorway, the weapon he'd obviously already used to murder two people in his hand.

Maggie went ice-cold.

He leveled the barrel of the weapon on her and said something in Spanish. She didn't get a word of it.

Shaking so hard she could scarcely remain vertical, Maggie waved the knife. "Don't come any closer," she warned, her voice so keen and thin it was alien to her ears.

He took a step toward her.

She braced for the worst.

"Drop the knife," he said in English.

She blinked at the abrupt change in language, then told herself to focus, pay attention. No way was she doing anything he said.

She backed up a step and hit the side of the tub.

Another boot length disappeared between them.

The ice that had filled Maggie's limbs leached into her skull. The fear and panic drained away. She felt nothing except determination.

She would not let this b.a.s.t.a.r.d kill her baby.

He took the final step. She charged him and sank the knife into his shoulder.

He roared a string of curses and tried to grab her with his free hand. She kicked. Screamed. Stabbed at him with the knife.

When the gun clattered to the floor, Maggie rushed past him.

She was at the front door before he started running after her. Hope bloomed in her chest. If she could out-maneuver him, she could hide in the darkness.

Across the street she headed for a narrow alley. She ran as hard as she could, the b.l.o.o.d.y knife still clutched in her hand.

Laughter bubbled up into her throat. Hysteria was overtaking her. She struggled to tamp it down. Keep running, Maggie. Don't slow down. Don't look back.

He was getting closer. She could hear him coming.

She pushed herself harder. Ignored the sharp pain in her side. If she let him catch her...

Ruthless fingers tangled in her hair. Jerked her backward and off her feet.

She hit the unforgiving cobblestone.

The knife flew from her hand, bounced on the stone, landing somewhere out of her reach.

The world spun wildly as the spots reappeared, obscuring her vision. Don't pa.s.s out!

Looming over her, the man jammed the muzzle of the gun against her forehead. He growled something crude in Spanish, his teeth clenched in fury. It was too dark to see his face well and she didn't understand the language, but she fully recognized his intent. He was as mad as h.e.l.l and she was as good as dead.

"That's enough."

Maggie's mind scrambled to grasp where the voice had come from. Another man had followed them into the alley. The idea that they might have another horror planned for her exploded in her chest. Please, G.o.d, don't let them do unspeakable things to me before they kill me.

The first man bored the muzzle a little deeper into her skin and spat more ugly words she couldn't understand.

"Enough," the other man repeated. "Get her up."

Before the words could fully penetrate the terror swaddling her brain, the man with the gun had hauled her to her feet.

The second man waited a few feet away. He looked American and spoke English with no distinguishable accent. Unlike the man manacling her who wore jeans and a T-shirt, the one who seemed to be in charge wore a suit. He smiled at Maggie.

To his comrade, he said, "We need her alive and undamaged." His attention fixed on Maggie once more. "For now."

Chapter Eleven.

4:00 a.m.

Slade parked the borrowed Jeep in a gulley below the rise overlooking the expanse of rugged terrain that separated his position from the Marek compound. She would be expecting him. The key was to breach the secure perimeter before she was aware of his imminent presence. Not an easy feat. But not impossible.

He adjusted his night-vision goggles and surveyed the stone wall that rose a full twelve feet high all the way around the main house, wrapping it with a menacing facade guaranteed to deter. He counted the usual three perimeter guards. No, wait, there was a fourth man. Slade tracked the man's progress as he made his rounds.

She was definitely expecting company.

Security would be on high alert.

There would be at least four more men inside. Various trip-wire and spring-activated traps in the outer perimeter. Motion-activated cameras strategically placed around the wall as well as inside the compound. He'd faced similar challenges many times. It wasn't the getting in that was the real issue.

Getting out without neutralizing the entire security force as well as the woman in charge would be unmanageable in the best-case scenario. He lowered the goggles. He was prepared for that risk.

He'd lived dozens of lives, leaving each one behind like a dead soul, not quite real enough or dead enough to matter in the scheme of things. This time might be his last, but he wasn't going alone. She was going with him. Straight to h.e.l.l, if he had anything to say about it.

No more waiting. He wanted to be inside before sunrise.

He alternately slid and climbed back down to the Jeep. Mentally, this final confrontation had been coming for a long time. He was ready. Physically, he'd taken the usual preparatory steps. During his last shower he had not used soap or shampoo, and no deodorant. He didn't want the enemy to smell him coming. She recruited and trained her own security staff. No detail would be left to chance. His shoes had soft leather soles to ensure noiseless movements and his outerwear was black, made of a fabric that created no sound when it rubbed against other materials.

Outside of blowing up the place-and that was out of the question since Alayna was likely inside-this was the best he could do to ensure success.

His cell vibrated. He reached into the pocket of his ammo vest, his own internal alert moving to the next level. Only one person had this number besides Alayna. If Maggie was calling, that meant there was trouble back in Mexico City. In that event, he was too far away to help. Unknown Number flashed on the screen. The unfamiliar sting of fear trickled into his veins.

He slid the phone open, accepting the call, and waited.

"Tripp, you must listen closely. I don't have much time."

Alayna.

She was the one person who called him by that name without eliciting fury.

"I'm listening." There was always the chance that the Dragon would attempt to set him up. She would use any means to get to him. Nothing was beneath her. A computer re-creation of his sister's voice was certainly within the realm of possibility. But he knew his sister. She would never give up this number. Not even to avoid death. As much as the Dragon worshipped Alayna, she would execute her for that kind of betrayal if she learned of it. No question. Alayna was taking a huge risk calling him. She had taken many risks on his behalf over the years, but this was the greatest.

"Lavena and Ramondo are dead."

That foreign trickle of fear burst like a crack in a compromised dam, sending adrenaline gushing full force through him. "Maggie?"

"Two of her security team are bringing Maggie here." Alayna provided the route and their current position as well as the make of the vehicle. "Hurry, Tripp. If she reaches the compound..."

She didn't have to spell it out. The Dragon would torture Maggie mercilessly and she would use her to corner him. She thought she had gotten the jump on him. Slade cleared his mind. "I understand." He disconnected. Every second Alayna remained on the line was an additional risk. He had what he needed to intercept.

Slade tucked the phone away. Rage simmered deep in his gut. The Dragon had finally gotten Lavena. Ramondo, too. The stakes were set. The Dragon wanted him terminated this time as much as he wanted her dead. There would be no attempts at negotiation as there had been in the past. No surprise, really.

This was the endgame.

He would not allow Maggie to be collateral damage. The Dragon had already taken far too much from him.

6:05 a.m.

MAGGIE HAD LOST ALL TRACK of time. The black bag that had been placed over her head prevented her from seeing anything at all. One of the men had tossed her into the cargo area of an SUV just before tying her up and covering her head. Her pitiful attempts to fight him off had done nothing but made him laugh. She had no idea in which direction they had gone, and accurately measuring the pa.s.sage of time was impossible. The road had grown b.u.mpier after that last turn, but she had no idea if that meant they were nearing their destination or simply taking a lot of back roads.

She had cried silently at first. Mostly for her baby. These men were taking her to that evil woman-Slade's mother. No doubt she wanted to use Maggie to lure Slade to her. The two captors hadn't said as much but she knew. There was no other reason to allow her to live. Maggie would be just as dead as Lavena and Ramondo if there wasn't a need to keep her alive.

Images of their lifeless bodies kept bobbing to the surface of the confusion, fear and exhaustion whirling in her head. Maggie tried to keep the images at bay, but she no longer had the fort.i.tude to keep up the effort.

The bindings around her wrists had cut into her flesh. She'd tried for what felt like forever to wiggle her hands loose. All she had succeeded in doing was chafing her already raw skin even worse. Her feet hadn't been bound. She supposed they weren't afraid of her running if the opportunity presented itself, when she couldn't see where she was going.

She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed again for her life to be spared so her baby would be safe. Each time she prayed, she asked for Slade's protection, as well. What this evil woman had put him through as a child was unspeakable. She didn't deserve to live. What kind of woman did such horrific things to her child? Slaughtered an old woman and her grandson, and no telling how many others?

Slade had warned Maggie that she couldn't possibly comprehend and she now knew for a certainty that he was all too right. This was far beyond her scope of comprehension. She would never be able to a.s.similate such a tragedy.

If she had only been able to get to a phone before these sc.u.mbags had arrived, she could have called the Colby Agency for help. If anyone had the ability to help her and Slade, Victoria and Lucas did. But it was too late for that now. Their chances of rescue were a big fat zero.

Maggie's family would be devastated. She had told them a little about Slade. Each time she'd visited for holidays he had been too busy to go. Always an excuse. Her sisters had gotten a little suspicious in the last couple of months. Maggie had insisted everything was fine. She had lied to herself and to them.

Her family would be forced to suffer this nightmare all because Maggie had been too blind to see. The positive pregnancy tests would be found in the bathroom of her apartment, giving her family an additional lost life to mourn. That would be the most devastating blow of all. Her sisters, with whom she shared everything, would be hurt that she hadn't told them. If only there had been time... She wanted so desperately to share that wondrous news with her family.

And with Slade. But she wasn't at all sure if that was the right decision. Too much had happened to explore the concept as she should have.

The SUV slowed. Maggie's heart seemed to pound hard enough to crack her ribs. The men spoke in Spanish, though she knew both spoke English, as well. Apparently they had recognized that she couldn't understand the language and wanted to ensure she was kept off guard. She listened intently, tried to pick up on a word here and there.

Gas. She was pretty sure she heard something about gas or gasoline. As if to confirm her a.s.sessment, the vehicle rolled to a stop. A door opened, then slammed shut. Then another opened and closed.

The urge to act swam in her brain. If they were at a gas station, was there anyone out there to hear her if she screamed? What time was it?

The cargo door opened, the shift in the air made her breath catch. Something hard nudged her head. "Make a sound and I will ensure you regret it."

Anger roared. "What're you going to do? Kill me? I don't think so." She braced to push upright, but the muzzle jammed into her skull hard enough to leave a mark. She ignored it, tried to sit up.

"There are far worse things than death, lady. Don't make me prove my point."

Her anger wilted like a pansy in the hot summer sun. As much as she wanted to take the risk and scream at the top of her lungs, she couldn't. She had no way of knowing if anyone was outside to hear her. Protecting the baby had to be her first priority.

The vehicle shifted with the weight of first one, then the second man getting back into the SUV. Doors slammed and the engine started. Her flimsy hope of rescue died an instantaneous death.

Defeat crushed down on her. No. Stop it. She would not think that way. As long as she was breathing there was hope. To distract herself, she pondered baby names. For a girl, Madelyn like her mother. That was a given. For a boy, maybe...Slade? But she didn't know if that was his real name. He'd mentioned something about using lots of different names. Was Slade a name he liked since he had chosen it? Would naming a son after him be smart since he wouldn't be a part of their lives?

Look at the facts, Maggie. Slade, the only name she knew him by, was the father of this child. Every aspect of him that she had fallen in love with was what made him Slade Keaton to her. She certainly wasn't going to tell her child that his father had been...a killer and yet somehow a protector. A ruthless man who had burrowed his way into her life to get close to the Colby Agency for reasons she still didn't understand.