No Fortunate Son (Pike Logan, #7)(56)

He saw her face fall and said, “What?”

“I don’t think we’re getting out.”

“Whoa. I don’t want to hear that. Hope is the one thing we have. You lose that, and you lose the will to live. We’re getting out. What about your friend? The predator?”

She reached for the pendant she no longer had and her eyes watered. She said, “I don’t think he’s coming. He would have been here by now if he could.”

“Then we make another escape attempt.”

“Have you looked around? This is like The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. We get out of here, and we’re probably going to be running for help right into some clan of people that are with these guys.”

Travis spoke for the first time. “She’s right. I saw it on the way in. You guys were drugged and carried down. They let me walk. We’re out in the middle of nowhere.”

Nick snarled, “If I want your opinion, I’ll squeeze it out of your head like a pimple.” To Kylie, “Don’t listen to him. We’re getting out.”

Travis said, “I didn’t mean we weren’t getting out. I meant running out of here isn’t the right way to go about it. Look, I’m sorry about what happened. I didn’t think they’d beat her, but she was putting lives at risk.”

Nick said, “If what you say is true, and even if we manage to get out of this hole, we still have a run through the woods, then you put our lives at risk. She could have made it. Jackass.”

“There are more than just us. They captured others, and if we were to escape, it would force an endgame on them. They’d probably be dead. What I did was hard but the right thing to do. You can’t see it, but it was.”

“How the hell would you know that?”

“I heard them talking while we got gas. While I was still in the trunk.”

“So you heard this after her escape attempt. How is that the right thing? All you were worried about was getting a beating, you little shit.”

“It still makes my decision right. It’s why I’m an officer. Because I can intuit the big picture.”

“Funny, I was thinking the exact opposite, as in How on earth did this coward become a lieutenant?”

Kylie interrupted, saying, “How many others? Where are they?”

“I don’t know. I just heard that guy Seamus on the phone. They captured others besides us. They could be in a cellar a hundred feet over for all I know.”

Nick said, “No way. It’s much easier to keep us together. If they’re real, they aren’t anywhere near here.”

Almost to herself, Kylie said, “You’re right. It makes much more sense to keep us together . . .”

Nick said, “And?”

The fear returned to her face. She said, “And if they’re somewhere else, there’s a reason. They have something special planned.”






38




Kaelyn Clute heard her door open and curled up out of reflex. Boots clomped to her head and she felt hands on her body. A pair on her wrists and a pair on her ankles. She started to writhe, and a voice said, “Stop. We’re cutting you free.”

She felt her restraints fall away, and she became afraid. Her hood was removed, and the man above her said, “Stand. Follow me.”

She stood on wobbly legs, her gag still in place, and followed the man into the central den. The other walked behind her, making her glance over her shoulder out of reflex.

She saw Mack on his knees, also cut free. He winked at her, drawing a slap on the head. He scowled at the blow but remained still.

The man who struck him said, “We are going for a ride. Because of that, you will not be tied or gagged. I want to stress: Do not attempt to escape.”

He held up a cell phone, saying, “We will be going in separate cars five minutes apart. These phones act as walkie-talkies. Instant communication. If either of you attempts anything, you will cause the other to die. Am I understood?”

She saw Mack nod and followed his lead. The man said, “McKinley, you’re first. Remove the gag.”

He did so, then said, “Where are we going? I want to stay with my sister.”

“Tough shit. No harm will come to either of you, and you’ll meet at the end. It’s just a precaution.”

McKinley looked at Kaelyn, torn, and she nodded at him. He said, “You’d better be telling the truth.”

“Whatever, tough guy. Start moving.”

Kaelyn watched him disappear, one man in front, one in the rear, then sat waiting with the final man. After a short time, his cell squawked with the command to follow. He motioned to her and said, “You first. Take a left and head toward the stairs. Don’t stop at the elevators.”

They went down the stairwell and ended up in the ubiquitous Parisian courtyard. The man pointed to a nondescript Renault parked against the curb and said, “You get in the passenger side.” He held up the phone. “Remember what Braden said.”

If he seemed concerned about using a name, he didn’t show it. Causing her more fear. She closed the door, and he said, “Buckle up,” in his lyrical accent. “Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

They drove north in the congested traffic, him weaving like a maniac and her trying to determine where they were. She caught plenty of rues but couldn’t decipher names until she was beyond them. Eventually, they crossed the Seine, and she recognized the Arc de Triomphe. An anchor.