A few more agents streamed in. Kat gave each new arrival their assignment, and they went to work without question. A search and rescue was nothing new to them. It gave me hope. If anyone could find Ben, it was the people in that room.
I shrank into the corner, out of the way, and pulled a trash can over beside me in case I needed to hurl. Vomiting or not, I wasn’t leaving the nerve center of the operation to find him.
A few minutes later, Logan joined me and held out a bottle with pale pink liquid in it. “Electrolytes plus something to calm your stomach,” he said. “Doctor’s orders.”
“Thanks.” I took the bottle.
Logan squatted down on his haunches and spoke quietly. “Listen, Savannah, I’m going to tell you something, and if you ever repeat it, I’ll deny it. When I found out X was putting together this group, some kind of elite forces team, I had zero interest. I’d had enough of working with special forces guys to last me the next ten lifetimes. Then I found out she’d signed Hayes. I’ve read his file. The kid is good. Good enough to convince me to come here. He’s the reason I joined this team.”
“You believe in him that much?” I remembered Ben in the parking garage, preparing for yesterday’s outing, being in the zone and so obviously in his element. “Does he know?”
“No. And he never will, right?”
I nodded.
“Good.” Logan patted my shoulder. “Now, your job is to drink that. Ben’s job is to use his skills to stay alive, and we can finish our job, which is to find him.”
As he walked away, I grabbed his arm. “If Devlin is involved with this, there’s one thing I can do.” I pointed to the remaining kompromat files we hadn’t yet read. “His information should be in there. There might be something we can use against Devlin to help Ben.”
“Have at it,” he said. “I’ll ask Kat who we can spare to help you.”
I sat down at the conference table and started sifting through the pile, this time knowing exactly what I needed to find. My stomach settled for the first time in days. Distress wasn’t the only thing making me sick. Helplessness was part of it, too. I needed to know there was something I could do to make a difference. And I’d do whatever it took to bring Ben home.
37
BEN
Iwoke up sitting upright in a hard chair, my chin resting on my chest. I resisted the human urge to pick up my head and scan the horizon for threats. In my line of work, that could earn a bullet between the eyes. Instead, I stayed as still as possible and ran through a series of checks.
Body: serviceable, but zip-tied at ankles and wrists. Head: a fucking wreck, blood running into the right eye, dizziness, possible concussion. No gunshot wound.
Sight: bright light on one side of the room, probably overhead, ambient light from the other side. A small window. I wasn’t underground. That was either a mistake on the part of my captors or they didn’t plan on leaving me alive long enough to make use of the advantage. From the outside light, I estimated it was nautical twilight. That meant I’d been knocked out and off the grid for nearly an hour.
Sound: hum of the overhead light, fast breathing but only from one source that wasn’t me, no traffic or outside noise. Probably somewhere remote.
The door opened. More artificial light. At least one other room. Two voices detected out there. I waited to see if the person at the door was coming for me.
“Devlin.” The voice was Howard Anson’s. And the heavybreather was Devlin. “How are you holding up? I know it’s been difficult.”
“Oh, I’m fine, Howard. Except that…”
He was not fine. His tone, pitch, and modulation all indicated he was a mess. Combined with what we’d observed yesterday, in my very unexpert opinion, I’d say he was close to a psychotic break.
“I’m not comfortable with this gun,” he finished.
Christ on toast, they’d handed a gun to a guy on the verge of a mental collapse.
“You shouldn’t have to use it.” Anson’s voice was calm, even soothing. The fucker was in total control. “He probably won’t even come to before more help arrives.”
Shit, there was a cavalry on the way, and it wasn’t mine.
“But,” Devlin’s voice cracked, “is anyone staying here with me? Taylor or Johnny?”
If Taylor Stewart was here, this would not end well for Devlin. And then it would probably end just as badly for me.
“I have important work to do, Devlin, and Taylor and Johnny are my security detail,” Anson said. “You wouldn’t want my life to be at risk because you weren’t up to the task we assigned you, would you?”
I couldn’t figure out what game they were playing with Devlin, leaving him behind and alive. After a few more words of encouragement for his devotee, Anson closed the room door. A minute later, another house door closed, then three car doors. Two different engines started, meaning they were driving away in two vehicles. I had no idea if there was a third we could use to get back to civilization. My more pressing concern was convincing Devlin to let me go. Could they have convinced him to stay out here alone to starve to death like some kind of martyr for the cause of Howard Anson?
