She nodded.
He brought her water and opened it, then crossed to the table of communication equipment. “I’m going to call your dad,” he said as he put on a headset. “I don’t mind you screaming, but you can’t tell them where we are. And as I don’t trust you…”
He motioned with his hands. Jesse appeared with a gag. Darcy tried pulling away, but she was weighed down by the chains and the chair. Jesse quickly secured the gag, effectively silencing her.
Ian hit a button on a console. Instantly the sound of a dial tone filled the cave. He punched in a phone number, then waited until a woman said, “This is the White House operator. How may I direct your call?”
“I need to speak to the man in charge,” Ian told her. “President Jensen. I’m the guy who has his daughter. She’s right here. I’d let you talk to her, but she’s all tied up.”
He laughed at his own joke.
“One minute, sir.”
There was a moment of silence, then a man picked up. “This is Special Agent in Charge Allister. Who is this?”
“I’m Ian Welton, Allister, but you already knew that. I’m sure the folks back at the ranch, or winery in this case, have already told you all about me. And you’re not who I want to speak with. I called for the president.”
“He’s not here right now.”
Ian glanced at Darcy and raised his eyebrows. “Daddy’s not home. Where do you think he is?”
Darcy didn’t have a clue.
“I’m sure you can patch me through to him,” Ian said, returning his attention to the call. “Which I want you to do. I have a list of demands. And before you tell me you don’t negotiate with terrorists, I’ll remind you I have his daughter here. He only has the two, so I think he’d miss this one if we had to return her in pieces.”
Stay calm, Darcy told herself. Stay calm. People were looking for her and they would find her. She would be okay. She had to be. For Joe. Because if he’d been shot, he would need her. And if he hadn’t, then he would come find her.
“Threats don’t help your cause,” Allister said. “What do you want?”
“Right now I’d like a really good burger, but instead I’ll take the release of Jonathan Misner from prison. He is to be picked up by helicopter and taken to the county airport. There you will have a plane waiting, along with two million dollars in cash.”
Misner, Misner. The name was familiar, but she couldn’t place it at first.
“The domestic terrorist?” Allister asked.
Then she remembered. Jonathan Misner was responsible for the bombing of a large suburban Chicago mall nearly three years ago. Dozens of people had been killed and hundreds injured. He and his men had been opposed to money being sent abroad for foreign aid. They’d wanted the funds to stay home, along with jobs and technology. Their demands had been for the United States to isolate itself from the rest of the world.
Misner had been captured nearly a year after the bombing. It had been one of those quirks of fate-a routine traffic stop had brought him to the attention of a small-town deputy. Later, the deputy had followed him to a local motel and called in federal authorities. Several of Misner’s men had gotten away, but the leader had been captured. He had been arrested and convicted, and was on death row in federal prison.
“We see him as a revolutionary,” Ian said calmly. “Imagine what the king of England thought of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. Not an original argument, I’ll grant you, but accurate. You have twelve hours. If I don’t see Misner staring on CNN as he’s led out of prison, I’ll have to hurt Darcy.”
Ian glanced at her and gave her an apologetic smile. “Funny thing is, I really don’t want to do it. I like her a lot. But the cause is bigger, and I want Misner out of prison. If he’s not released by”-Ian glanced at his watch-“seven- forty-three P.M. Pacific Time, I’ll have to make my point. We’ll start small. Her little finger from her left hand. She’ll be gagged, so you won’t hear her screaming, but trust me, she will be.”
22
Most of the personnel were navy, with a few Secret Service agents thrown in the mix. Joe knew that other members of the team would arrive as soon as they could be flown in from other parts of the country. Captain Phillips had driven from his hotel to act as a liaison.
Joe stood by the front of the house as the helicopters shut down. When the team was assembled, he stepped forward to lead them toward the winery. He’d already commandeered the conference room and had Marco call the office staff to tell them not to come in to work. The team could spread out into the various offices and have access to the phone lines if necessary, although it wouldn’t take long for them to establish their own communications system.
“Through here,” Joe said as they walked into the main building of the winery.
One of the team members, Admiral Grant, moved next to Joe. “The fire was started as a diversion?” he asked.
Joe nodded. “We have preliminary confirmation of arson. A final report will take some time, but there’s enough evidence for our purposes.”
“There were two Secret Service agents with Darcy?”
“No. Just Alex. Alex Vanmeter. The agent who was shot.”
The admiral raised his eyebrows. Yes, Darcy should have been protected by two agents. She also shouldn’t have been sent off with the very man trying to kidnap her. Joe had already beaten himself up about it a dozen times.
“Lauren was with Paige,” Joe continued.
“No doubt the reason only Darcy was taken,” the admiral said.
Joe wasn’t so sure. Ian and his group had planned their kidnapping very well. If they’d wanted Lauren, he didn’t doubt they could have taken her. The fire had put everyone in a panic.
“You’ve given your report to Captain Phillips?” the admiral asked.
Joe nodded. They’d reached the conference room. He pointed out the maps of the area and the contact list, which included local law enforcement officials, the fire chief, and the main number of the house.
Joe started to step into the room, but the admiral blocked his way.
“That will be all,” the man told him.
Joe glared at him. “Sir, I know I screwed up. I know the kidnapping is my fault. But I’m still the best tactical officer you have.”
The admiral shook his head. “A good tactical officer doesn’t let his subject get kidnapped. You’re relieved of duty, sailor.”
The door closed in his face.
There was no lock. Joe could have stepped inside and forced them to listen, but to what end? He didn’t have anything to say. Nothing useful, anyway. Telling them that he wanted to trade himself for Darcy was meaningless. Letting them know that he would give his life for hers a hundred times over would only get in the way.
He turned from the conference room and headed for Lorenzo’s office. There he could stare at the maps on the wall and will them to reveal their secrets to him. Where had Ian taken her? What would the little shithead do with her?
An hour later, he was no closer to a solution. He slumped in Lorenzo’s chair and endured the frustration of having no way to act. Nearly as bad as imagining what Darcy must be going through was the reality of knowing that he had had Ian within his grasp and had never considered him a danger. If he had, he would have cheerfully ripped him into a dozen pieces.
But he hadn’t. Instead he’d listened to Ian talk on and on about everything from his opinion of the growing world economy to his seemingly endless anecdotal stories about his studies, his various roommates, and the time
