Orla stoppedherself from reaching into her bag and taking a couple of her anxiety pills, but she knew she needed a clear mind as the car flew through the city. The only thing that kept her heart from exploding out of her chest was the masked man sitting beside her. Calm and collected, he was in constant contact with Devin as she tried to focus on the road.
Devin had tossed her a key for a big black SUV without blinking an eye. They roared through the streets until they reached the highway. She could hear Devin’s voice through the speaker system, and he told her he’d do his best to redirect all police cars from point A to point B. And it was point B she couldn’t stop thinking about.
The vigilante had a tablet in his lap and was looking at the map of where they were heading, and he and Devin discussed possible points of entry and cameras around the location.
Orla couldn’t focus on what they were saying, half of her mind focused on the road, the other worried sick about Kelli. It was only a question of time before she faced whoever had her friend and they’d realize she’d come empty-handed.
The address was deep in Riverdale, and according to what Devin had said, it was along the railroad. That didn’t give them much information, and it added to her rising anguish.
“Hey. We’re five minutes away. I’ll get off at the next stop sign because if they’re tracking the GPS as I suspect they are, I don’t want them to be aware of my arrival. I’ll cut through the back and make my way to you and surprise them. Devin is only a few minutes behind us.”
When he put his hand on her thigh, Orla immediately grabbed it. Even if she couldn’t touch his skin, it brought the heat to her frigid fingers.
“You’ll be all right, Orla. I’ll do my damn best to get you and your friend out of this.”
The stop sign appeared way too soon, and the vigilante quickly exited, vanishing into the evening night, leaving her alone. That was the moment all the feelings swarming inside her simply disappeared to be replaced with ice-cold resolution. It was the first time she’d felt this steady since she’d left the middle east, and prayed it would hold.
As soon as she crossed the railroad tracks, Orla turned left and parked on the small patch of dirt road. The headlights shone on trailers, vans, and containers in the junkyard until she saw movement. Two men wearing balaclavas came into view, holding military rifles aimed at her. With a definite sensation of deja vu, she took a deep breath and exited the SUV.
An icy wind whipped her face, and she was instantly frozen to the bone but kept moving, head held high and her hand was holding tight to the briefcase.
Ignoring the two guard dogs, Orla bypassed them and kept walking. From the corner of her eye, she saw other men in the shadows, or was it her imagination? The more she walked, the more her eyes adjusted to the dark until she detected light coming from between two containers.
More men appeared, but as she turned the corner, it was the man without the mask that caught her attention. Sitting on a lawn chair by a fire, he was dressed more for glamping than a kidnapping operation. Blond hair slicked back, in his late forties, it was the man Mr. Black had pointed to at the party.
“Well, welcome to our little bonfire. Not every day we have a respected journalist like yourself join us, Ms. Karlsen.”
The men closed the circle behind her, but she ignored them as the head of the snake truly held the power here.
“Mr.White, I presume. Or whatever your real name is.”
The growing smirk on the man’s face told her what they’d suspected was indeed the truth. “And there is the briefcase, I presume.”
One of his guards took a step to retrieve the briefcase, but she stepped back. “Where is Kelli?”
Mr.White angled his head and snapped his fingers. A rustling came from inside a container and Kelli came into view flanked by two guards who were almost carrying her. She was disheveled and dressed in her typical sheath dress without a coat or shoes. In this temperature and these conditions, with the threat lurking over her head, Orla couldn’t imagine how her friend felt.
Aware how high the stakes were, Orla prayed for calm and a miracle. Was the vigilante nearby? Had he made his way there? And what about Devin? And the others? Would there be help?
“You see, Ms. Karlsen, she’s still in one piece. I can be a very generous man, although not a very patient one. Now, hand me the briefcase.”
That was where the crux of the problem lay. She was about to hand him the only leverage she had. And an empty one. Although the vigilante and Devin had told her just to give him the briefcase and they would make sure both of them got out alive, some part of her couldn’t hope and wait. “You can have the briefcase, but I changed the code. And from what I understand, it won’t be an easy task to open it and get what’s inside.”
The satisfied smile twisted a little, making it a lot less friendly before he smoothed his features again. He got to his feet and straightened his coat. He was a tall and fit man from the way he handled himself, with a definite air that told her that he came from money and not the streets. However, she wasn’t sure if that would be better or worse for her.
When he approached, way closer than she was comfortable with, her instincts told her that not only he was a dangerous man, but vicious as well. He loved to see the fear in his victim’s eyes.
Before she could react, he covered her mouth with his hand, squeezing so tight, Orla knew it would leave bruises. Standing her ground became difficult, but she wouldn’t give him the pleasure of seeing her shake in her boots.
“I won’t have anybody stand in my way, woman. Not a journalist, not the police, no one. And as you certainly have guessed now, not even my partner. And for an empire to grow, there could only be one emperor.”
The realization was like a punch in the gut; the threat hadn’t come from the outside, but from within. The whole thing had been a setup, one man wanting to get rid of an embarrassing partner to gain everything for himself. A tale as old as time, going back to Cain and Abel.
“You see, I have the power to kill everyone you hold dear, and once I do, I’ll skin you, one thin layer at a time, before I have my men finish you, and in the worst and most painful way. Or maybe I can give you a preview with your friend here.”
He snatched the briefcase out of her hand and pushed her hard, and she fell to the ground. Ignoring the rattling of her bones and her racing heart, she regained her feet as he sat on his chair and started fiddling with the lock.
Soon, he snarled a curse and punched the steel briefcase. “How did you know how to change the code?”
