Game of Fear (Montgomery Justice #3)(11)



No. Deb cursed and shut the door. She was being ridiculous. Nothing was going to happen. She’d text Ashley tomorrow and reassure herself that she’d worried all night for nothing.




No cars clogged the normally congested I-25 south toward Colorado Springs. The moon hung high overhead, the air cool and crisp. The smell of snow was in the air. Ashley couldn’t wait for a school break so she could teach Justin to ski. He’d look so good in ski pants.

She turned up the radio and flicked through stations when an electronic beep sounded in the car. What the heck?

She looked down at the dashboard, her focus finally settling on the warning light. No way. A near-empty gas gauge? She’d filled up just before she went to Deb’s apartment. Someone must have siphoned off most of the tank while she was visiting her sister. She gritted her teeth. Perfect ending to a screwed-up weekend.

It didn’t help she’d had the creepy crawlies up and down her back throughout the whole drive. Talk about paranoid. She could have sworn someone was watching her, but she never even saw headlights in the rearview mirror most of the last ten miles.

Get a grip, Ashley, or you’ll turn into Dad.

Her father thought she was a helpless idiot. She wasn’t. Her sister had taught her how to handle herself in any situation. She had a 170 IQ, for heaven’s sake. Even at sixteen, the workload at the Academy didn’t challenge her that much. She glanced around, trying to place where she was. After so many trips to her sister’s house, she’d memorized most every exit, and that dumpy all-night gas station was coming up soon. She’d have to stop even though they sold the equivalent of camel piss as high-octane fuel. Extremely high-priced camel piss, at that.

Over the next hill, she saw the sign for the service station, the lights a beacon in the dark. At least she wouldn’t have to call Deb to tell her what an idiot she’d been not to have checked the gas gauge before leaving Denver.

Being a helicopter pilot, her sister obsessively checked everything, fuel and safety features alike, before moving an inch. She’d tried to teach Ashley to do the same. Apparently, the lesson hadn’t taken very well.

Ashley flipped on the blinker and pulled off the highway, the car shuddering on its last fumes. That’s all she needed, to seize the engine or something. The poor, beat-up sedan had seen better days. Now, Ashley prayed it would survive until she reached the Academy and gave it back to its owner.

She turned the ignition off and looked around. For an all-night station, the place sure looked deserted. The lights above her blinked, then flashed off, plunging the area into darkness.

Ashley froze, peering outside through the window.

Deb always told her to listen to her instincts. Right now, they were screaming that she should have stayed in town. She caught movement in her peripheral vision and slammed her hand down on the door lock, but it was too late. Someone had already ripped the door open.

The interior light flickered on. Screaming, she kicked out at the black-clad man trying to pull her from the car.

“Help! Please, someone help me!”

“Yell all you want, kid. No one around to hear you.”

She screamed as massive arms pulled her body from the car and dragged her toward another vehicle. He tried to shove her into the back of a huge SUV, but she fought him. He slammed her head against the door frame, nearly knocking her unconscious.

With a final kick, she caught him in the crotch. He dropped her to the ground and she struggled to regain her footing. His backhand left her ears ringing and blood coursed down her split lip. The man grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her head close. “Stay down or I’ll hit you again, and this time I won’t be gentle.”

A blond man approached and her attacker said, “Grab her legs and watch out. She’s a wild one.”

The blond gripped her ankles and held her tight, grinning at her as they lifted her from the ground. She twisted and turned. She couldn’t let them take her.

A third man opened the rear hatch further, and they threw her roughly into the vehicle. When she tried to rise, the blond backhanded her across the face. “What did we tell you?”

She sagged. Oh God. She was going to die. She couldn’t keep a whimper from escaping.

The blond bent close, his voice no more than a whisper. “No use fighting. You’re coming with us. Do as you’re told, or you’ll die.”

“Please. Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone—”

“Damn right about that.” He chuckled and yanked out a few zip ties from his pocket and grabbed her wrists.

“Wait! You don’t know what you’re doing. My father is in the Army and he’ll kick your ass if you don’t let me go.”

The man bound her wrists with the tie and bent closer, laughing. “Your father is in Kandahar and by the time Daddy Dearest gets here, Ashley, there won’t be a trace of you left to follow.”

Her eyes widened. “You know who I am?”

“Oh, yeah. Ashley Lansing, math prodigy, code breaker and Einstein-level genius. Accepted at the Air Force Academy at age sixteen, the youngest ever, even though teenagers your age aren’t really allowed in the military. For you, they made an exception.

“Your father is Army General George Lansing, bastard extraordinaire. Your brothers are Richard and Benjamin Lansing, also serving overseas. One sister, Deborah, an ex-Army helicopter pilot, is now doing Flight for Life and Search and Rescue out of Denver, whatever allows her to fly the most. Mother deceased, probably to escape your father. Did I miss anything you needed to hear to believe me, or do you want me to start on your bra size and color of your panties next?”

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