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He swallowed against another surge of sickness.
“He would have had to get right up in your face.” Sam was circling back. “Try to visualize. Was he wearing a mask?”
Jason closed his eyes, but the picture… Would. Not. Come. “Maybe.”
“Did he speak? Did he say anything? Address you by name?”
Jesus Christ, you asshole. Can you give me a minute here?
But as Sam’s word
s registered, Jason’s eyes jerked open. “Yes. He called me by name. Agent West. I remember.”
Not a random attack, then. But hadn’t he already known that? For one thing, fully grown men were rarely abducted off the street by anyone other than the mob. Or maybe the CIA. He was pretty sure he had not been targeted by the mob. Or the CIA. No, he had been the intended target of some private citizen. Someone who knew he worked for the FBI. Someone bold and ruthless as fuck.
His heart sped up in angry—and yes, no point kidding himself, alarmed—response. Sam glanced at the monitor over the bed.
“You’re doing great,” he said.
Jason’s laugh was terse. “Sure. Aside from the fact I can’t remember anything. Didn’t notice I was followed. Wasn’t carrying my weapon.”
“Thiopental acts instantly and causes unconsciousness in thirty-five to forty seconds. Had you pulled your weapon, there’s an even chance you’d have shot yourself.”
“Right.”
“You’re not required to be armed at all times.”
Jesus. If Sam was making excuses for his complete stupidity, he really did view Jason as a victim.
He opened his mouth, but Sam cut in. “Do you know for sure you were followed?”
Jason rubbed his forehead, trying to recall. “I had to have been. We didn’t plan on getting takeout.”
He was silent, still massaging his temples. Chinese takeout and a night at home with Sam seemed like another lifetime.
Sam said nothing.
Finally, Jason looked up. “I think so. I think I remember a black sports car following me when I left your place.” He corrected, “Behind me. I don’t know if it was following me.”
“Go on.”
“When I came out of the restaurant, a black Porsche had pulled up next to me. The trunk was open. I figured the driver was getting out the spare.” He added curtly, “If I thought about it at all.”
“That was a reasonable assumption.”
“Sure. Anyway, he’d parked too close, so it seemed easier to go around to the passenger side and put the food on the seat. That’s all I really remember. That and getting jabbed with a needle. Everything else is a blur.”
And getting blurrier. He desperately wanted to close his eyes and sleep again. He felt sick, cold, shaky.
Sam’s voice snapped him out of his miserable self-preoccupation. “Did you recognize his voice?”
Jason forced himself to think back. “Not…exactly. There was something. He was excited. His voice was shrill. Nervous. Maybe tense?”
A novice? First try at abduction?
“Good,” Sam said. “That’s good.”
“Is it?” Jason asked shortly.
