Betrayal

As Hannah snuffled against her neck, Jet’s heart melted.

She crept out of the house and down the side access to the Camry, removing her night vision goggles as she approached the vehicle. The streets were still quiet, empty and cold. Hannah woke up as she was being strapped into the child seat and looked at Jet with sleepy eyes, confused by why she was being transported in the middle of the night.

Jet buckled her in and smiled. Hannah reached out to her proffered hand, slapped it in a toddler’s version of high five, and laughed delightedly.

“Sweetheart. I’m so glad I finally found you. I love you. Mommy loves you.”

Hannah looked confused, which made sense. She was being told that Jet loved her, which she understood based on the three familiar words, but not what it meant in proximity to the assurance that Mommy also loved her.

“You want to go for a ride?”

Hannah giggled again.

“Okay, sweetheart, we’re going to go for a ride. Right now.”

Jet rounded the front of the car and climbed behind the wheel, then crossed the two wires she’d left dangling. The engine turned over with a purr, and she eased the vehicle down the street, waiting to turn on the headlights until she’d rounded the corner that would take them out of the subdivision.

As she drove the two miles to the industrial area where she’d left her rental car, Jet considered what she’d just done, and the hurdles she’d have to face getting Hannah out of the country. She’d need a passport and all the right paperwork. More importantly, she’d need to evade any law enforcement effort to apprehend her.

Jet had thought through all the elements of their escape with care and had calculated that they could be in Dallas after a hard ten hours of driving. There, she could find contacts who would be able to create documents for her. There were thriving underworld operations in virtually every major city that could create whatever she needed. But she had to get clear of Nebraska before daybreak, which meant she had no time to lose.

She swung onto the main road and gazed at Hannah in the back seat, her eyes already beginning to close from the rocking motion of the car. Jet realized this would be way harder with a toddler, but there was no turning back. She had her daughter. They would figure the rest out in the process.

They changed vehicles, and Jet opened the five-gallon gas can she had stowed in the trunk and doused the stolen Toyota inside and out, leaving her gloves and her shoes on the passenger seat after donning the replacement pair she’d stashed in the rental. She opened a pack of cigarettes she’d purchased for the purpose and lit one, then after puffing it until the tip glowed red in the darkness, she flicked it through the open window of the glistening Camry.

The vapor ignited with a whump, and within three minutes, they were back on the city streets, making their way to the motel, Hannah now asleep after the momentary excitement of the impromptu fireworks display from the car’s immolation.

A police cruiser pulled alongside as she waited at a light; the patrolman glanced at her, boredom evident on his face. A housewife in a family car late at night was as unexciting as it got. The light changed, and he tromped on the gas, the engine growling as he pulled ahead. Jet smiled to herself and eased away from the signal, careful to do so at a moderate pace.

Halfway up the next block, the squad car hit its emergency lights and swung around in a screeching arc, siren blaring.

Someone must have phoned in the burning car, or the gas tank had ignited and prompted a call from nearby security guards at the warehouses in the area. Whichever, that would draw every policeman within miles, ensuring that her trip out of town would be uneventful.

The motel’s lights bathed the parking lot with a fluorescent glow, and she noticed there were quite a few more cars than when she had left. None of the rooms were illuminated, suggesting everyone was asleep. She could slip into her room, grab her essentials out of the safe and be on the road within a matter of minutes. She had stolen a Chevy Equinox earlier that night and parked it next to the rental car lot, so her final task would be to transfer everything to the SUV when she dropped the car off — no point raising eyebrows by failing to return the vehicle.

“All right, sweetheart. I’ll be right back. I just need to get my stuff. Be good,” she crooned to Hannah, who watched her with sleepy eyes before slowly closing them again.

Jet’s eyes roved over the parked cars, automatically scanning for anomalies or suspicious tells, but saw nothing. Her mind was poring over all the items she’d need to get for Hannah — diapers, food, toys, a bed, clothes — all the sundry goods that were required to care for a toddler. She would have to stop somewhere after she crossed the state line. With any luck, the police wouldn’t be notified until morning, and it would take a little while for them to issue an all-points bulletin with Hannah’s description and a photo. By then she would be in Kansas or Oklahoma, on her way to Texas.

She tossed her clothes into her suitcase and went into the bathroom to retrieve her hygiene kit. There was more than enough room in the bag for all of her items as well as anything Hannah would need. The safe sprang open with a beep, and she quickly emptied it, slipping one of the passports into her back pocket before changing her top to a maroon one. All black might draw attention in rural states in America’s heartland, and she didn’t want to be memorable in any way.

Jet glanced at her watch. She’d been inside for six minutes.

She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and shouldered her purse, then moved to the door, taking a last survey of the little room to ensure she had everything. Satisfied, she twisted the handle and stepped into the night, her suitcase rolling behind her.

Hannah was still asleep when she returned to the car, and she took care to open the trunk as quietly as possible so as not to wake her.

A spike of pain stabbed into her thigh as she was hoisting the bags into the back, and she spun around, instinctively brushing at the painful spot. Her hand felt something hard — her vision began to blur. She fought for consciousness as her knees buckled, and she slumped to the ground, her last image was of two men approaching her from a blue van parked thirty feet away, one of them carrying what looked like an air rifle.

Then the world spun, and everything went black.

Chapter 4

The first thing Jet registered was that she was lying on a hard slab in the dark. She turned her head and tried to move her limbs, but it was no good. She had been bound with some kind of straps.

Her fingers worked on finding some weakness in the bindings, and she struggled to slide an arm free, but the straps were secure. Whoever had done this to her had known what they were doing.

Her head pounded, sinuses screaming in pain, but she choked the discomfort back while she tried to focus. Something dripped rhythmically in the corner of the small room. Water. One drop, every ten to fifteen seconds. It smelled like mold and must and dank, fetid air.

What the hell was this?

And then panic flooded her.

Where was Hannah?

Her breathing and pulse rate spiked as she fought against the restraints, exhausting herself as she flailed in vain, trying to break free. It took every bit of operational discipline she had to talk herself down and regain her composure. Losing it wouldn’t help anything. She needed to glean as much information as she could about wherever she was and wait for an opportunity.

Think. What happened?

Last thing she remembered was that she had been shot with a dart, and then everything had gone hazy.

Obviously some sort of tranquilizer.

But why? And who could have possibly known that she was at the motel? She’d been clean. No tails. She was sure of it. Nothing made any sense.

And yet here she was, bound in a dark room, imprisoned by unknown captors.