Whispers in the Dark (KGI #4)(84)

“Nathan! Nathan!”

He pulled up, nearly gutted by the cramp in his side, and turned to see Garrett hauling ass over the uneven terrain in his SUV. He braked hard when he reached Nathan, sending dust flying in all directions.

Donovan leaped out, Sam right on his heels.

“What the hell happened?” Donovan demanded.

“Shea,” Nathan gasped. “The bastards took her. I was in the house for only a minute and they had a helicopter waiting. Crazy bastard threw her over his shoulder and jumped from the edge of the drop-off into the chopper.”

Garrett’s expression was fierce. “We didn’t hear a f**king chopper.”

Nathan shook his head. “This wasn’t a typical military helicopter. I’ve never seen anything like it. I only heard it when it got damn close. I’ve heard…I mean I’ve heard shit about prototypes for super stealth choppers that can’t be heard over a couple hundred yards away. Just didn’t think they existed yet.”

“Talk to her, man,” Van urged. “Find out what’s going on with her. Get her to give you any information she can.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” Nathan yelled. “I’ve got nothing but this yawning black hole in my mind. She’s not there!”

Garrett put his hand on Nathan’s arm. “We know where to find her.”

Nathan looked at his brother in confusion, sure that he hadn’t heard correctly. “What the f**k are you talking about?”

“Resnick’s boys were behind the break-in at Shea’s house,” Donovan said grimly. “The bastard has been tightlipped with us because he’s behind it or at least he has a big hand in it. He must have loved me coming to him for information. Fuck me. I all but gave him a detailed map of how to find her. I’m going to kill him.”

Nathan tried to clear the haze of rage and confusion that was clouding his mind. “Wait a minute. Resnick has her?”

“Yeah, or at least he knows who does,” Sam said. “Come on. We’ve got a house call to make. That little son of a bitch is going to regret this.”

“If he so much as touches a hair on her head, I’m going to gut him and leave him for the vultures,” Nathan hissed.

“And we won’t do a goddamn thing to stop you,” Garrett promised. “Now let’s go. We left Ethan and Swanny with Steele and his team, and they’re likely having a kitten for wanting to blow something up. Looks like they’re going to get their chance.”

SHEA came to awareness but was careful not to convey that she’d regained consciousness. She was no longer in a helicopter. She knew that much at least. Nor was she moving. She was lying on a couch. A couch? As tempted as she was to open her eyes, she forced herself to have discipline and carefully determine what she could without any noticeable change in her breathing.

It was silent. She strained to listen for any sign that she wasn’t alone. But all she heard was the light hum of a central air-conditioning system.

She allowed one slit in her left eye, and when she didn’t immediately see anyone else in the room, she opened both eyes and quickly examined her surroundings.

Seeing no one, she shot to her feet and then nearly went down and face-planted on the floor. Holy hell, but whatever they’d given her must work for elephants too. She sank back onto the edge of the couch and shook her head, trying to clear the muzziness that surrounded her like fog.

There were two ways out of the room. A door and a large window. She had no idea where the door led, but she was going to check out the window first. It was already dark, which meant she’d been out for hours.

Shea, goddamn it. Where are you? Talk to me. Just talk to me. Let me know you’re okay. Let me know where to find you. We’re coming for you, baby.

She dropped to her knees, holding her head in agony. Each word sent splinters into her brain until she moaned and closed her eyes. She rocked back and forth, so shaken and in so much pain that her stomach was a tight ball of nausea.

Nathan.

As soon as she tried to reach out to him, pain speared through her skull and down her spine. Overwhelmed, she leaned forward and vomited. It took her several long moments to regain her composure and for her to stop the violent heaving of her stomach.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder, and she reacted on instinct. She turned and lashed out, first with her hand, landing the heel of her palm on the bridge of her captor’s nose. She was on her feet in an instant and followed up with a vicious kick to his balls.

He doubled over with a grunt and she nailed him with a right hook to the jaw. Not leaving anything to chance, she snapped her foot into the side of his head and sent him reeling to the floor.

The dull gleam of a pistol secured in his shoulder harness sent her scrambling to yank it free. First she hit him on the back of the head with the butt and then she quickly frisked him for extra clips.

She felt like doing a double fist pump when she found not only two extra clips, but a smaller Sig Sauer secured to an ankle holster. She pocketed it and the knife from his pocket and then ran for the door.

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. Maybe some underground compound. A top-secret government facility in some cave. Or maybe even a basement in some underground Washington D.C. test facility. Whatever she’d been expecting, this wasn’t it.

She was in a freaking house. A normal-looking house that from all appearances someone lived in. Damn it. She hadn’t thought to frisk the dude for keys to a vehicle. They had to have gotten her here someway.