Gone Black (6 page)

The girl smiled some more. She whipped her hair over her shoulder and stretched her shoulders. Claire hated her. She was going to go and find her all right, and she was going to make her pay for what she was doing to Black. She set her jaw and stayed calm and waited for instructions. Her goal was set, and she was gonna make sure these people went down.

“Do not think to underestimate us, Claire. I can see your little mind working, thinking you'll get us, you'll kill us for all these things we're doing to your true love sitting here. Not going to happen.”

“Tell me what to do. We're wasting time.”

“We will have you picked up and brought to us. Do not notify the local police or your FBI, or anybody else in law enforcement. And that includes your friends. Do you understand me? We will kill him, and it will give me great pleasure to do so. And you might need to know that when I kill someone, their eventual death takes a very, very long time.”

“How do I know that you won't kill us both once I get there?”

The woman laughed, and seemed delighted by Claire's doubts. “You won't know that, you silly little goose. Of course, you won't know. But I will give you my word of honor that if you do not come for him, we will kill him and let you watch him die. We will ring you up, and then we will let you watch over the phone while we torture him to death. Then we will put a bullet in his head. And that will be the end of it, and no more concern for you.”

Claire stared into the girl's bright eyes that did not have even a trace of humanity inside them. Even through the phone's screen, she could see the woman was insane. And she believed every word this psycho girl was telling her, whoever the hell she was. They would kill Black, and they'd probably do it on-screen, while she watched from a thousand miles away, helpless to lift a finger to stop them. The phone switched to focus upon Black again, and Claire watched in horror as the sap came down hard on him again, this time on the top of his shoulder. He groaned and tried to pull away, but he was tied up and couldn't protect himself. Oh, God, Claire could not stand this. She had to make it stop.

“Okay, I'm coming. Right now, if you want. Tell me when and where. I'll do whatever you say, just stop hitting him with that goddamn sap.”

“You'll do whatever I say, no matter how many times I hit him. We both know that. But don't you worry, Miss Morgan, because, like I said, I know what I'm doing with this thing. I know just how much pain to inflict, without really killing a person too soon. I didn't break his clavicle just then. But if I had wanted to, I would have. He's in good hands with me. Rest assured.”

Claire said nothing to that, but her blood ran cold with the most terrible kind of dread. This woman was a psychopath and a sadist, no doubt about it. And Black was helpless and in her hands.

“That's a good little girl, Claire. He'll be so proud of you when he wakes up and I tell him you're coming to get him. If he wakes up, that is.” She gave her big fake grin again. Her eyes didn't change; they still looked dead.

At that point, Claire decided she was going to kill that woman. She was going to find the bitch and kill her, if it took her the rest of her life. She stared into the other woman's eyes. “All right. Before I let you take me anywhere, I want proof that he's still alive. You understand me? Right before I come with you, I want to talk to Black. I want him alive and alert and talking.”

“Oh, my dear, my dear, you just don't get it. You do not have that kind of leverage. You heard my demand. Just the one. Do what we say, or you'll never see the doctor alive again. There it is, in a nutshell. Take it or leave it, sweetheart.”

Claire struggled desperately to keep her composure. She had been through a lot of terrible things in her life, but she had never wanted to murder anybody as much as she wanted to end the life of that despicable excuse for a human being. She wanted to grab her by the throat and throttle any vestige of life out of her. But they would murder Black if she didn't cooperate, just like they said. She knew that. Had no doubt, whatsoever. The girl was having a fine old time abusing Black. She wouldn't stop, even if Claire came to her. She was enjoying it too much. The power, the control. And maybe there was even more to it. Maybe she hated him for some particular reason. Maybe Black had done something to her and all of this was about revenge.

The whole thing about Claire coming to get him was just a ruse. Claire knew that, of course. They wanted to get her there, and then they'd kill them both, probably in this women's awful torture lair. Probably would make them watch each other suffer. She knew that full well. But what choice did she have? She had to go with them, but she wouldn't go down easy, either. The girl just might find herself in the fight of her life once Claire got there. Right now, the important thing was to buy time and enlist Black's friends for help in finding him. She was pretty sure now that all of this had something to do with Black's covert operations that he embarked upon now and again, and for which she really wasn't privy to the particulars. John Booker would know, though, he'd know who the red-haired bitch was and how to get Black home in one piece, and that's all Claire cared about.

“When and where?” she asked the girl again. She was able to keep her tone calm now, even and easy, sounding very accommodating. Hiding the immense and overwhelming anger she felt. But she was going to enjoy putting a bullet in the goading girl's head. She was going to send that smiling, giggling bitch to hell, where she belonged.

“We'll let you know. Stay near the phone, love.”

“I want to talk to him now, before I go anywhere. Let me talk to him.”

“Afraid not. He's in no condition to chat. He's gonna have a bit of a headache, I do believe. So sorry, dearie, so
adieu, mi ami
. You stay close to the phone now, you hear?”

The phone screen went black. Black was alive. He had done something to that girl and her people, something to make them do this, whoever they hell they were. Otherwise, they just would have killed him when they got the chance and be done with it. Booker would know everything, and he would know what to do about it. Claire set her jaw. She would damn well not let that girl or anybody else kill Black. She'd get him out alive, or she'd die trying.

Still clutching the phone in one hand, Claire sat down on the bed and forced herself to become calm. She had to remain composed and in control now, or she would make stupid mistakes that would get Black killed. After a moment or two, she stood back up and walked over to the balcony's rail. She could see where Booker and the rest of the wedding party still stood around on the front porch, mourning and worrying and weeping, no doubt waiting for her to come out so they could console her. The chairs in the yard were nearly empty now, so it appeared that most of the other guests had gone back to the hotel. She yelled Booker's name and realized that she sounded pretty damn upset. Everybody on the porch stopped what they were doing and looked inside. Booker wasted no time getting inside the house and stopping just below where she stood at the rail.

“Claire! What is it? You okay?”

“Come up here! Quick!”

John Booker took the stairs two at a time and then was standing right in front of her, tall and handsome in his black tuxedo, the silk tie pulled loose. He looked strained and worried and sad that his best friend was dead.

Fully composed now, Claire looked at him and said, “Black's alive. He's being held captive. They just called me with his phone. I saw him myself. I heard him speak. It was him. No question about it.”

Booker grabbed her by both arms. His eyes latched on her face, suddenly intense as hell but filled with renewed hope. “Oh, my God. Tell me what he said, Claire. Tell me everything he said to you. Is he all right? Who's got him?”

Claire just wanted to get going before the red-haired woman called back, just hurry up and make some sort of reasonable plan, do something, anything that would get Black out of their hands. So she quickly told him everything the girl had said, as nearly verbatim as she could remember it. She told him how the girl was hitting Black with the sap, and her voice broke once under the utter helplessness she felt to stop the abuse. When she faltered a little in the telling, Booker came to her rescue and took control. He was still holding her arms tightly, his face serious.

“You said the girl had red hair. Did she tell you her name?”

“No. Who is she, Booker? Do you know who she is?”

“Okay, now listen to me, Claire. Listen to me. I can find out where he is. But we've gotta hurry. If it's who I think it is, we don't have much time. Understand me? We've gotta get back to Cedar Bend. Right now.”

“Who is it? She's crazy. I could tell. She's gettin' off on hurting him.”

“I think it's probably Jacinda Soquet.”

“Who's that? What does she want?”

“We don't have time to talk about that now. C'mon, we've gotta get back to Cedar Bend. I'll explain everything there.”

“Okay, let's go,” Claire said quickly, hopes rising. He knew who the girl was and probably how to get to her, maybe even where Black was. If he knew all that, they could probably get him out. Oh, God, she hoped they could get him out of there.

Downstairs, they met Jack Holliday coming in the door. He was another one of Black's buddies. Booker kept his voice low. “Jack, you gotta come with us, right now. Nick's alive, but he's in trouble. They called Claire and they're gonna call back, so we gotta figure out what to do or Nick's dead, man. They'll kill him.”

Jack wasted no time on questions. The two men took off at a run toward the dock, and Claire was right behind them. None of them stopped to fill in the rest of the wedding party, and Laurie and Nancy watched them leave in a hurry, and both of them looked alarmed. Claire would tell them everything later, but she stopped in her tracks when she saw Will Novak standing down by the dock. She trusted him. He was good at what he did, had turned out to be a good partner for her, street smart, savvy, good instincts. She grabbed his arm and told him she needed him and that's all it took. Within minutes, they were aboard Black's Cobalt, and Booker had the boat out of her cove and into the main channel of Lake of the Ozarks and headed to Cedar Bend Lodge.

Claire shouted out the particulars to Jack and Novak over the roar of the motor, and they both looked as grim as Booker did. Claire sat down in the stern and spent the rest of the time forcing her nerves back in line. She had to think it all through, figure out what was really going on. She wanted to know who that bitch was. And how to get her. She wanted to repay her for every blow and indignity she had inflicted on Black; she wanted that more than just about anything she had ever wanted in her entire life. She couldn't figure it out, though, who the girl was, why and how and what.

All Claire could think about, over and over again, was Black sitting there, helpless, tied up, and completely under the cruel control of that awful, vicious woman. It just didn't seem possible, none of it did. Black was just too strong a man, so incredibly fit and muscular, and with years of intense combat-ready training. He was so cautious, wary as hell, cognizant of where he was, and incredibly security conscious. For God's sake, how did these people get the drop on him? That's what she could not understand. Her only hope was that Booker knew who they were and what they wanted and how to get Black home safely. As for Claire, she was going to do whatever Booker told her to do, no questions asked.

By the time they reached the busy Cedar Bend marina and made it up to Black's private elevator, she was so upset that she wanted to demand answers. Only thing she did know for sure was that she had to obey the woman's demands, if she wanted to get Black out alive. On the other hand, she wasn't walking into their lair without knowing a hell of a lot more about them and how they operated. Once inside the elevator, the four of them stood together in tense silence, the big men dwarfing her five-foot-nine stature. Nobody said a word, but their expressions were somber.

Claire could wait no longer for answers. “I wanna know the truth, Booker. Damn it, tell me! Where did he go this time? And if he was on one of your stupid covert missions, why the hell weren't you guys with him?”

Booker shook his head. “He wasn't on a mission or we would've been there, trust me. We always work together. He went over there to arrange your honeymoon accommodations, just like he told you. He wasn't there to do anything else. Somebody just caught up with him, surprised him somehow. I can't believe they finally got him.”

“I don't understand any of this. Tell me who this woman is. What does she want with him? And why? Why does she want me? You've got to tell me everything, Booker! Right now!”

“That's what we're gonna find out. Come on, take a breath.” Holliday took her hand and squeezed it. He was six foot eight, a former football player, and his head almost touched the ceiling of the elevator. So did Novak's. He wasn't as tall as Jack, but he almost was.

Jack said, “You gotta try to remain calm. I know it isn't easy. We're worried, too, but we can't let ourselves panic. That's a death sentence for Nick.”

“Well, sorry, but I'm almost there already,” Claire ground out, her fury getting the better of her resolve. “Tell me what's going on! I am not waiting another minute!”

The mirrored elevator door slid back soundlessly and revealed Black's spacious office, with his massive desk and framed Rorschach inkblot prints, and the piano in front of the big plate-glass windows that stretched across the wall facing the lake, giving them a magnificent view of Lake of the Ozarks and the round heliport and marina out on the point.

To Claire's surprise, Booker rushed out of the elevator and headed straight for the small galley kitchen off the main office, with Jack dogging his heels. They were both part of this, whatever it was. But they were both competent, she knew that, and she trusted them. More important, Black trusted them. He'd told her that, time and time again. So she had to start trusting them, too. By the time she reached the kitchen with Novak, the two of them stood in the threshold together and watched Booker pull out the cutlery drawer and place it on top of the black granite counter. Then he reached inside, and Claire heard a click as a hidden latch was released.

Her mouth dropped a little when a door silently slid back into the wall, just disappeared as if by magic. Black's two buddies disappeared inside, and Claire followed, looking around inside the secret room, utterly astonished by what she saw there. She had been in Black's office many times, of course, but she had never had even an inkling that this room existed. From the looks of it, it was a veritable command post, a computer room, with blinking monitors and flat screens on the walls, and topographical maps spread out across the walls and the small conference table. A digital image of the world was displayed on another large screen that hung behind the table.

Booker wasted no time. He sat down in front of one of the computers and started typing in commands. Still caught up by sheer amazement that the place even existed, Claire just stood silently and watched the two guys go to work. She shifted her attention to the big screen as a map of Europe suddenly blinked on. Her gaze zeroed in on the pulsating red dot blinking steadily, somewhere along the southern coast of France.

“Marseilles,” Jack Holliday muttered, standing behind Booker and shaking his head. “Shit. It's got to be the Soquets. Damn it.”

Booker kept staring at the screen. “Looks like they found one of the microchips. Thank God, they didn't find the other one.”

Both men seemed highly relieved at that enigmatic statement, and then they both turned to look at Claire.

“We can extract him, but we cannot let you go with us,” Booker told her quietly. He was dead serious.

“The hell I can't.”

Holliday spoke to her then, and his face also looked deadly serious. “Not long after Nick met you, he made us promise him that if anything like this ever happened that we would make sure that you stayed out of it. Those are his wishes. We aren't gonna go against them. If this went down, your safety was his primary concern. Higher priority than his own life.”

Claire laughed, totally not amused. “Well, guess what, guys? I am in it, and I'm gonna stay in it. Because if I don't, Black is dead with a bullet in his head. Now what the hell are you talking about? What does that blinking light mean? Is that where Black is?”

Booker nodded but he kept up with the frowning. “We've all implanted ourselves with microchips, RFID and GPS, two each, in case we're ever taken by the enemy. They probably found the one embedded in his back, but not the one behind his ear.”

Claire was absolutely speechless. That rarely happened for her. Never, in fact. She knew full well what Radio Frequency Identification chips were. But implanted microchips? In Black's body? Good God, who were these guys? What else didn't she know about Black? She shook off the initial shock, no time for it, because right now, every second counted. Nothing mattered to her except getting him out of there alive. She still clutched her iPhone in her hand, her one tenuous lifeline to Black. It still had not rung.

“Okay. Tell me who the woman is. Why do they want me? And who the hell are the Soquets? What do they have against Black?”

Booker and Holliday shared a worried look, both reluctant to tell her anything. Finally, Booker said, “Marcel Soquet is an arms dealer. Sells mostly to terrorist organizations, has for decades. He's a bomb maker and assassin, and he's raised his two children to be soulless, cruel killers. He's always been as dirty and violent and brutal as they come, and now he's taught his children to be the same thing. They specialize in torture and tracking down and murdering people in witness protection, or for any other reason, as long as they get paid for it. He's as bad as they come. All three of them are, Claire. And they have hired thugs to help them. But Black's abduction has nothing to do with what we do as a team. Marcel's beef with Nick is strictly personal. He has made it known before that he's gonna get him and make him pay for what he thinks he did.”

Booker blew out his breath, which told Claire how worried he really was. “I still can't believe they got him this time. Nick knows about the threat, and he's good as they come. He must've been tricked somehow. Otherwise, they wouldn't have gotten to him. You sure it was him on that tape? You sure it wasn't a computer-enhanced video?”

Claire thought of Black's hoarse voice, trying to warn her off, the way his eyes looked dizzy, and then so frantic to tell her, and the way they had rolled back into his head when the woman had hit him with the sap. “I'm sure. He talked to me at first before she knocked him out.”

When she said that, the men all just stared at her in silence. Claire tried to make sense of everything, but it all seemed so shocking and inconceivable, that Black could be living this double life without her knowing the depth of it. That he could have an enemy of this magnitude and aggression. She looked at Novak for his take, but he just stood back and said nothing, watching and listening, which meant he didn't have any encouraging words to offer her. But that was his way. He was quiet, thinking, always figuring out his next move. She was glad he was there. He was an ally, moral support. She hadn't known him all that long, but she knew he was with her in whatever she did. He'd proved it. He had been a Navy SEAL, for God's sake. He was steady as a rock all the time, no matter what was going down. His presence would help her stay calm, if nothing else, and she sure as hell wasn't calm right now. She was about ready to rend her clothes and scream her head off.

Booker and Holliday waited another moment. Then Booker said, “Marcel Soquet's completely ruthless. They practice torture, have made their techniques into a fine art, have even taught other terrorists how to do it with filmed videos of their torture sessions. But one good thing. Nick knows what to do, if and when he was ever taken captive. He's put together dossiers on the Soquet family and their torture techniques and how to withstand them. He knew they were after him. He knew they've tried before and failed. He's got the training to survive whatever they do to him until we get there.”