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“You will see.”
Marin shivered. Despite the other woman’s duplicity, Marin hoped for Arabelle’s sake the little girl’s grandmother would not look like Agent Todd when she did come face-to-face with the woman.
He pulled the SUV up to a deserted loading dock. There were several white vans parked in the lot, but they all were unoccupied. After turning off the engine, Marin’s captor opened his door. Marin quickly tried her door again, but to no avail. She swallowed another sob.
“You will come quietly. Or I will kill the dog,” the man said matter-of-factly.
He exited the driver’s seat and Marin noticed he was favoring his left arm. Her pulse sped up. Could she overpower him when he opened her door? Since it was likely she didn’t have anything else to lose, she decided to try it. Marin was stronger than she looked and people often misjudged her athleticism. She was hoping this guy did, as well.
Keeping Otto from making the first move would be tricky. She tried to remember the Dutch commands she’d overheard the K-9 officers use with their dogs.
“Blijf,” she ordered in a trembling voice, adding a whispered “wait” for good measure. She prayed Otto listened because Marin was already carrying around the weight of too many deaths at the hands of this mad man.
The door opened and her captor was careful to block any escape route. He was as wiry as she remembered, but he carried himself in a way that screamed lethal. Marin shivered and ducked her head. She wasn’t sure if she could carry out her plan if she got a look at his cold eyes. Slowly, she climbed out of the car. Otto growled in protest, but, thankfully the dog didn’t move. When her feet touched the asphalt, Marin leaned forward, snapping her head up swiftly so that her scalp connected sharply with her captor’s chin. The move had the desired effect, startling him so he lost his balance.
Otto sprung from the backseat like a leopard, pouncing on him just as Marin tried to slip between the man and the SUV. In her worry over the dog, she hesitated. It was long enough for the man to trip her. She landed hard on the asphalt to the sound of Otto’s painful whimper.
“No!” she cried.
She winced in pain as he yanked her up off the ground by her ponytail and jerked her against his body. He flashed a bloody knife in front of her face.
“I told you what would happen to the dog if you misbehaved,” he hissed against her ear.
Marin’s hands and knees stung from the road rash she’d gotten landing on the pavement. Her stomach lurched as he dragged her up the steps to the warehouse. When they got to the top, she hazarded a look back for Otto, hoping his death was at least swift. But she couldn’t see anything through her watery eyes. He inserted a key into the dead bolt and opened the door. The room was dimly lit and it smelled of chlorine.
“I told you not to hurt her!” Bita cried as she raced over to where he’d tossed Marin onto the concrete floor.
Marin recoiled from the older woman’s hand. “Don’t you dare touch me!” she choked out as she scrambled to a seated position.
Bita had the audacity to look offended. “Chef Marin,” Bita pleaded. “Please, this is not my fault.”
A hysterical laugh escaped Marin’s mouth. “Oh, really? This wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t used your granddaughter to lure me here. Or if you hadn’t stolen valuable art from the White House. Tell me again how this isn’t your fault?”
The older woman knelt down beside Marin. “I didn’t know what was in the packages,” she whispered.
Marin’s mouth gaped incredulously.
“I didn’t!” Bita insisted.
“They know it was you,” Marin said. “The Secret Service. The FBI. The president.”
“Arabelle?” Bita’s eyes glistened.
“When I don’t come back tomorrow, Arabelle will be devastated. And that’s on you.”
Bita reared back and slapped Marin across the mouth. Hard. Marin gasped, tasting blood.
“Leave her!” their captor yelled from across the room where he’d been typing out a text. “She is the only thing that is keeping me from killing you, Bita. Don’t tempt me to change my plans.”
“You will tell the conglomerate to give me what I want,” Bita demanded regally after getting to her feet. She launched into rapid-fire Farsi as she stormed across the room. Creepy Guy didn’t flinch. He simply leveled his frozen gaze at Bita.
“No,” he said.
Bita twirled around angrily, but Marin was ready for her this time. She leaped to her feet so that she towered over the other woman. Before Bita could react, however, the door was flung open and several heavily armed men swarmed into the room. Her captor acted as though he expected them.
“What have we here, Yerik?” one of the men asked.
He was heavy-set with sagging jowls and protruding eyebrows. Ironically, he was also dressed smartly in a finely tailored suit, as if they were all attending an evening dinner party and not staring one another down in a dirty warehouse. The other four men seemed to take their cues from him.
