The TAKEN! Series - Books 9-12 (Taken! Box Set Book 3) Read online

  “What are you, her pet?”

  “I’m the shovel man.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I’m the one who will bury your ass in a cold grave if she decides she doesn’t need the money after all.”

  Owen searched his eyes and saw no mercy, and then he paled and said nothing for hours.

  CHAPTER 6

  They took turns driving, and by eight a.m. they were in Fort Worth and handing Owen Leonard over to the authorities.

  With that done, they went to a diner and ate a late breakfast.

  Blue yawned.

  “I need sleep. You’re welcome to crash at my place, I don’t have a spare bed, but I do have a big comfy couch.”

  He shook his head.

  “I’ll get a motel room.”

  She smiled, “You don’t trust yourself not to sneak into my bed, eh?”

  “I don’t trust you not to climb up on the couch.”

  They laughed together, but then Blue became serious.

  “Call your wife, whatever it is she’s done can be forgiven, hmm?”

  “Yes.”

  Blue tossed a twenty on the table, stood, and kissed him on the lips.

  “Thank you for helping me with Owen and his friends.”

  “You’re welcome, it was fun,”

  “It was, wasn’t it? Now, do you need a lift?”

  “No thanks, I have a phone call to make.”

  “Smart man, I’ll see you around, Big Boy,”

  She walked out of the diner and he watched her every step of the way. He then gazed over at the payphone on the wall by the restrooms, but decided he needed more privacy.

  He left the diner, walked six blocks, and got a room at a motel. After entering the room, he sat on the edge of the bed and grabbed the phone.

  She answered on the first ring. “Hello?”

  “It’s me.”

  “Oh thank God, I...I—”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And the baby?”

  “Fine, we’re both fine, and we both miss you.”

  “I’m still in Texas and haven’t slept in a while, so I’m going to grab some sleep and then head home. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “I doubted you.”

  “You thought that you had reason to.”

  “The baby’s furniture came.”

  “Yes.”

  “There are two cribs, was one of those for the safe room?”

  “Yes, and a second bed for us should be arriving soon.”

  “You weren’t hiding the room, were you?”

  “No.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about buying the furniture?”

  He was silent for a moment, but then he spoke.

  “It hurt me that you still don’t trust me, and I didn’t want to have to defend myself to you.”

  “But, if you had told me, then we would have avoided the trouble we’ve had this week.”

  “I know; I was being an asshole. I think a part of me wanted you to feel shitty about things when the furniture arrived and proved that I wasn’t hiding anything.”

  “It worked; I feel shitty.”

  “So do I,”

  Neither one said anything for a moment, and in the silence, he could hear the squeak of a wheel outside his door, as the maid pushed her cart along the walkway.

  “I apologize for doubting you, and I’m so sorry for what happened at Dr. Harven’s.”

  “Would you have really locked me away for life?”

  “If you were another Robert Rothman... yes,”

  “Good girl,”

  He heard her give a little laugh, but then she moaned softly.

  “I miss you so much.”

  “I miss you too.”

  “You and Blue spent a lot of time together, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “And she kept bugging me to call you,”

  “She likes you, you know. After I hung up with her the other day, I wondered if I’d made a mistake. We were having problems and... you’re only human.”

  “She’s got a boyfriend named Gary. I think it’s serious.”

  “Good, she deserves to be happy,”

  “I’ll catch a train back tomorrow and call you from the station.”

  “Why not take a plane?”

  “They took my wallet and keys at Dr. Harven’s. I have no ID”

  “Right, I forgot, but I have your things here,”

  “Jessica?”

  “Yes.”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby, and I’m so sorry.”

  “It wasn’t all bad, I think telling Harven, finally telling another person what I did years ago... I think it helped. It made me see that I’m not that desperate boy anymore, and that I shouldn’t fear myself as much as I have.”

  “I think I’ve been guilty of that as well.”

  “We’ll talk more when I get home.”

  “All right.”

  “Goodbye, I love you.”

  “Me too, bye bye,”

  He hung up the phone feeling better than he had in days, but then a wave of fatigue hit him and he lay back on the bed and went to sleep.

  ***

  He woke early, showered and walked back to the diner for breakfast, and then caught a cab to the train station. As the cab rode along, he looked out at the quiet streets. It was Sunday morning, just after dawn.

  As he stood on the platform waiting, he saw two men appear on his left. They were dressed in black suits and had a military bearing about them. When a second pair appeared on his right, he began watching them, and realized that all four men were watching him back.

  When the fifth man came, he walked right towards him and he could see the outline of a shoulder holster. The man approached, stood beside him, and spoke his name.

  “Who are you?” he said,

  “We’re friends of Dr. Emile Harven. He had some nice things to say about you.”

  “Was that before or after he locked me in a cell?”

  “After,”

  A loud whistle blew, and around the curve of the tracks, a train appeared.

  “I just want to talk to you. I’m not here to hurt you.”

  “Is that why you brought all the men?”

  “Since my discussion with Dr. Harven I’ve looked into you and found you to be... formidable, I am not formidable, and so I surround myself with superior numbers.”

  The train was close enough now so that he had to speak louder.

  “What do you want?”

  “I want you to come with us so that we can talk in private.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  The man smiled.

  “That’s why there are five of us,”

  “I still refuse.”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  He turned his head and shone his intense eyes on the man.

  “Yes, I do,” he said, and leapt onto the tracks before the oncoming train.

  CHAPTER 7

  The screech of the brakes was deafening as the train came to a hard stop.

  He was against the wall beneath the lip of the train platform, balanced on one hand, his back pressed hard against the concrete, with the train mere inches from his face as it came to a stop.

  He knew that he couldn’t be seen until the train began moving again, so he had to be somewhere else when it left. While leaning his shoulder against the train, he lowered himself to one elbow, and began crawling backwards, while sideways.

  Up above, someone was shouting for them to, “Move the damn train!” and he supposed it was the man who threatened him. For a moment, he wondered who the man was, but then went back to concentrating on his task.

  He had to crawl backwards to the starting edge of the platform and then reach the parking lot beyond. There was a supermarket past that, and beyond that, city streets.

  The train shuddered, hissed, and then moved, and he pushed
himself up on one hand again. The train was closer here, dangerously close, and if his hand slipped, he might be dragged along.

  Once the train moved beyond him, he stood, and saw the men searching the spot where he leapt onto the tracks, but then they spotted him and the chase was on.

  He was wearing the black suit with his usual boots, and his only weapon was his knife. He reached the parking lot, which was still mostly empty, and weaved his way around the cars.

  As he approached the corner of the supermarket, he looked back. All five men were on his scent and the closest man was gaining. Then he spotted two of them splitting off and assumed they were headed to cut him off at the rear.

  As he rounded the building, he shed the suit jacket and stuffed it in a trashcan. Then he mussed his hair, slowed his pace to a walk, and casually entered the store while pushing a shopping cart. If he were spotted, he shouldn’t be noticed right away because they were focused on a man wearing black, and his shirt was white.

  He walked briskly, but calmly to the middle of the store where he found a collection of T-shirts. He grabbed the one with the brightest colors, changed into it, and then put on a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap.

  In the middle of the aisle was a display of beer, and he tucked a case under one arm, while grabbing a bag of potato chips with the other. As he turned to walk back towards the entrance, two of the men walked his way.

  “Hey dudes, you know where they keep the onion dip?”

  The men ignored him and kept walking.

  He had gotten lucky and he knew it. His “disguise” wouldn’t fool them forever. He was too tall to blend in with a crowd, and besides, this early there was none, the market must have just opened up.

  He had to get away and he had to do it soon, because for all he knew there were more of them on the way, whoever they were.

  He dropped the chips, walked to the edge of the aisle, and looked around. The man who had talked to him at the train station was standing by the registers and had a view of both exits. He stepped back into the aisle, grabbed a jar of pickles off the shelf, and heaved it as hard as he could towards the rear wall of the store, while hoping that it didn’t strike anyone.

  When a loud crash came, it was unaccompanied by a cry of pain and he let out a sigh in relief.

  He left the aisle with the beer on his shoulder, blocking his face, and saw the man in the suit looking in the direction that the crash had come from. He walked past a sleepy cashier, as he repositioned the beer, so that now he was carrying it at chest level.

  When he was ten feet away the man turned and looked at him, and he flung the case of beer at his head.

  It missed the man’s face, but nicked his shoulder, and caused him to be off balance when he reached him. He slipped his hand beneath the jacket, grabbed the gun, and jammed it against the man’s ribs.

  “Now you have a choice, live or die?”

  “Live, but you can’t get away.”

  “Let me worry about that.”

  A man walked over. He was haggard looking, wore a wrinkled shirt and tie, and was pointing at the case of beer, which was leaking,

  “I’m the store manager, what happened here?”

  He flashed the gun at the man and then placed it back at the first man’s ribs.

  “Give me the keys to your car.”

  “What?”

  “Car keys, now!”

  As the man fumbled in his pocket, he asked him what he drove and where it was parked.

  “It...it’s an old, beige Chevy Astro van, and it’s parked right there, see it?”

  He glanced out the window, spotted the van, and frowned.

  “Does that run?”

  The man looked indignant as he handed over the keys.

  “Yeah, it runs, it’s noisy and smokes a little, but it runs.”

  He jammed the gun hard against the first man’s ribs.

  “Let’s go.”

  “You’re too late.”

  He followed the man’s eyes and saw the two men that had passed him in the aisle. They were running towards him and bringing out their weapons.

  “I said let’s go.”

  The man wouldn’t move.

  “Have it your way,” he said, and struck the man on the side of the head with the gun, to daze him, then he bent down and lifted him up, so that he was lying across his left shoulder.

  The other men were coming on quick and he knew he had to slow them down, so he raised the gun and fired four shots. The men dove to the floor, but he hadn’t been shooting at them, he’d been shooting at the six-foot high display of liquid detergent on the end cap.

  The green goo covered the end of the aisle and was splattered across the floor. One of the men rose up and aimed his gun at him, then lowered it when he saw his boss hanging limply from his shoulder.

  When he tried running at him instead, he slipped in the detergent and went down hard on his back.

  ***

  He dumped the man inside, on the floor of the passenger seat, and then hustled around to the other side. He got the van started and it was so loud that he wondered if it even had a muffler at all, then, it began billowing smoke.

  He drove to the end of the parking lot, and could see the other four men by using the rearview mirror. When a phone rang in the pocket of the man on the floor, he began to stir.

  “Goddamn my head hurts, why’d you hit me?”

  “Give me your phone!”

  The man began to protest, but decided against it and passed his phone over.

  “Can I get off the floor, this is killing my back.”

  He didn’t answer, instead, he hung a sharp left and parked the van at the rear of a gas station with a mini-mart.

  “Do as I say or you’ll have more than a headache,”

  The man nodded his consent and then followed him out of the van.

  “Walk next to me and move when I move.”

  They walked around to the pumps, and as they went, he set the man’s phone on vibrate, and then dropped it into the bed of a pickup truck that was just pulling away from the pumps.

  “That won’t fool my men for long,”

  “Long enough, now, back to the van,”

  The rear of the van was littered with baseball equipment and camping gear. He sat on top of a plastic cooler while the man sat on the floor.

  “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “I’m going to reach for my ID, don’t shoot me.”

  The man took out a black case and handed it over.

  “Thomas Lawson, Department of Defense?”

  “We actually work unofficially under Homeland Security’s umbrella,”

  “Okay, that’s the who, now the why, what do you want from me and how does this involve Dr. Harven?”

  “The doctor has connections going back decades, and his methods have proven effective, put those two things together, and the man has pull.”

  “Did he send you to bring me back to his ranch?”

  The man grinned.

  “No, but he did tell me that you escaped your cell on your own. You’re the first to do that, you know, you weren’t supposed to get out until that night.”

  “I’ll ask again, why are you after me?”

  “I’ve come to recruit you.”

  “Recruit me for what?”

  “I’ll explain that later, first I want to contact my men.”

  He stared at the man for a moment and then placed the gun against his left knee.

  “I’m in a bad mood. I haven’t been home in days or seen my wife, and you made me miss my train. You have one minute to explain yourself or you’ll never walk normal again.”

  “Whoa! Whoa, all right, here it is. Harven runs a program for teens who are borderline psychos, like that kid, Jace, he says that people like him... people like you, that you can’t ever change, that you’re natural-born predators.”

  “And his solution is to lock us away?”

  “Some, yes, there have been a few who were bey
ond help, but people like you have found a way to live with what you are, to not only live with it, but to put it to good use. I know all about you and your wife, about how you volunteer in serial cases. Harven’s program does the same with the kids, only they hunt bigger game.”

  “Such as terrorists?”

  “Yes, but not exclusively, and they do so without regard to the law. In essence, we let them off the leash.”

  He removed the gun from Lawson’s knee.

  “How do you figure into this?”

  “I, along with my team, supervise and coordinate the operations. We find the targets, assess the situation and then choose who to send in.”

  “I’m not a teenager, how do I fit in?”

  “I chose you. I’ve got access to your records, that incident in Bel Ray, California, your encounters with Jeffrey Mitchell, that Canadian hit man, Jones, and other activities while you were helping the police. You’re a badass if I ever saw one, and today I learned just how bad.”

  “I’m not a cop or a soldier,”

  “My friend, ex-cops or soldiers are not hard to find, but that killer instinct of yours is, I mean, Jesus, man, I just wanted to talk to you and you dived in front of a moving train to get away.”

  “You were five men with guns and I was unarmed. Running away was the smart move.”

  “And taking me hostage?”

  “I needed information.”

  “And now you have it, so what do you think?”

  “I’m not interested; I get enough action when my wife and I consult with the FBI.”

  “I hear you, but this isn’t a full-time gig, and you’ll be able to pick and choose your assignments.”

  “I still say no.”

  He opened the back doors of the van and stepped out, then, he handed Lawson his gun.

  “I saw a payphone in front, go call your men. I need a ride back to the train station.”

  “And I need some aspirin, Christ, my head hurts.”

  While Lawson made the call, he went inside and bought painkillers and bottled water. When he came back out, Lawson thanked him and then looked him over.

  “That shirt, the sunglasses and cap, my men really fell for that?”

  “Yes, but I doubt it would have worked twice.”

  “It’s hard to find good men.”

  “I said no.”

  “I’m not pitching, I’m just saying, and you do have a knack for this work.”