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52
TANYA
I’d hoped that the local police would take us off to some tiny, rural police station where we’d be guarded by a couple of sleepy cops munching on donuts. Then I could fake some tears, show a little cleavage and distract them long enough to hit one over the head and get us both out of there.
But the Ohio cops turned out to be no-nonsense and professional. They’d already seen the APB Steward had put out for us and they took no chances, leaving us handcuffed and sitting on the runway, watched over by three eagle-eyed officers, until Steward showed up in a helicopter. Colton’s team must have been monitoring the police bands because they showed up in their own helicopter at almost the same time. They all walked over, led by the big Texan, the one Colton called JD. All except the female pilot, who strolled over to the pilot of Steward’s chopper and started chatting.
“Your team is done!” yelled Steward, stabbing JD in the chest with a finger. “You had one job, capture her and bring her to me, and your man winds up in league with her! You’re never working with the agency again!”
JD just soaked up the abuse, as if that wasn’t what was important. “What about our guy?”
Steward scowled at Colton. “I’m taking both of them to a CIA facility for interrogation.”
“It’s not his fault!” JD told him. “She fooled him. Seduced him!”
“Your man aided an enemy of the state,” Steward told him. “That’s treason, JD. That’s punishable by death. So get out of my way and maybe, maybe your guy only gets a jail cell.”
Steward stalked off to talk to Rurik, who immediately started claiming diplomatic immunity. He’d walk free: Steward wouldn’t want to start an international incident.
JD came closer and gazed down at Colton. It broke my heart to see the looks on their faces. They obviously cared so much about each other and I hated that I’d come between them. “Sorry, boss,” said Colton, sounding sincere.
JD squatted down beside us. He gave me a long glare. Then his eyes softened and he just looked tired.
“It’s real, boss,” Colton said sadly. “I swear it is. Steward’s got nerve gas.” He saw Steward turn and head back towards us and spoke quickly. “Look, just check him out.”
“I can’t go digging into a member of the CIA!” growled JD.
“There’ll be a link, somewhere, between him and the Bainbridges,” said Colton firmly.
Steward and his men grabbed us and hoisted us to our feet, then started marching us towards their chopper. Colton twisted so he could speak to JD one last time. “Boss, I never asked you for shit. But I’m asking you to do this one thing. Please.”
The last thing I saw, as the chopper door slid shut, was JD’s face, frowning and conflicted.
53
COLTON
As soon as we were airborne, one of Steward’s CIA goons leaned over with a couple of cloth bags. I threw Tanya a quick glance, trying to reassure her. It’s gonna be okay. She nodded back.
Then the bag came down over my head and everything went black. They were trying to intimidate us, soften us up for interrogation and I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of letting it get to me. But my breathing went tight when I realized that might be the last time I ever saw her.
The flight was long and just bumpy enough that my cracked ribs hurt like hell. When we eventually landed and I was hauled out, I had no idea where we were. I guessed we’d landed on a rooftop helipad because we went down several flights of stairs. I knew Tanya was walking beside me for a little while because I could smell her perfume. Then suddenly she was gone. They pushed me into a chair, uncuffed me and strapped my wrists and ankles down. Then the bag finally came off.
I was in a small room with no windows. I was in a big, vinyl-covered chair, like a dentist’s chair, and my wrists and ankles were secured with thick, fabric restraints. Tanya was nowhere to be seen but Steward was standing in front of me. He went over to a video camera that sat in the corner and made a big show of turning it off.
“Colton Stockburn,” he said with great satisfaction, perching himself on the edge of a metal table. He ran his eyes from the top of my head all the way down to my battered boots while I huffed and glowered and tested the handcuffs. “Jesus, look at you. Trailer trash with a shotgun. Why did JD even let you on the team?” He shook his head. “You must have thought it was Christmas when a woman like Yeshevskaya showed an interest in you. You know, I’m curious. What is she like on her back? Or was she on top?” He tried to make the last part sound like just another cruel jibe but there was an urgency in his voice I didn’t like at all.
