Page 42 of Call Sign: King
“Hold on… let’s talk about…”
“No! You don’t understand. I have to get in the air and chase after them.”
“You aren’t making sense. We don’t know they’re going to Russia.”
“Maybe not, but that’s the most logical guess,” Ryder said, jumping down from the back of the van, still clutching Khloe’s clothes and hair.
“You’re projecting. Yes, the Bratvas you infiltrated are the worst boogiemen in your closet, but most of them are dead.”
“Are they? And if not Russia, then Belarus or Syria are next on the list and they are close.”
“Listen to me.” Axel paused. “Are you listening?”
“Yes,” he ground out, hugging Khloe’s clothes to his chest again.
“This is our plan. I’ll move Ice and his team from Turkey to Warsaw. That’ll get them closer to Moscow or Belarus if we find out you’re right.
“I’ll double up surveillance on all the targets in Russia and have Drago and Polly listening in on our bugs there to see if we can pick up on any changes, but even if you’re right and it’s one of the families you used to deal guns to while you were in the CIA, they aren’t going to be stupid enough to take her to a location you’ve been to before. They’re gonna take her somewhere you’ll never think to look.”
Axel was making sense. Ryder tried to focus on what his friend was saying.
“I’ve still got eyes on her implanted GPS chip. That’s our best lead right now. As soon as I figure out where they’re taking her, I’ll get someone enroute to intercept. Hell, I’ll even put Storm on alert in Bangkok, just in case they head to Asia.
“In the meantime, you need to go back into the city and check in with our team. Go to the hospital first. We have four people there fighting for their lives. Hawkeye went in an ambulance with them, but he’s gotta be freaking out. Get a status update on their conditions, and find out what he needs. Then go help MacGyver and Arrow with the authorities back at the hotel. The second the media out front catches wind that Khloe’s been abducted, all hell is going to break loose — even worse than it already has.”
Ryder couldn’t give a shit about the press, and just thinking about how his enemies had destroyed his own team made him want to puke.
“They don’t need me,” Ryder countered, unable to hide his defeat.
“Yes, they do. You’re their King.”
Chapter Twelve
KHLOE
Khloe focused on the throbbing pain in her cheek, finding that better than thinking about just how much trouble she was in. She’d fought like a wildcat the second they’d taken her out of the cargo van at the airport, knowing that the longer they were on the ground, the better the chances were that one of Ryder’s team might be able to get to her.
She’d paid the price for the short delay in their departure with a backhand across her face strong enough for her to see stars. Even now, fifteen minutes later, her cheekbone still hurt.
A full-body shiver reminded her they’d also stripped her bare back on the tarmac, just after the driver of the van had used some type of scanner to discover the GPS pins she’d been wearing. The only thing that had prevented her from freaking out after having the clothes ripped from her body was knowing her kidnappers had missed finding the chip Hawkeye had inserted under the skin of her left hip.
Then, when she’d refused to start walking, the driver had slammed the butt of his pistol against the back of her head. He’d growled something in Russian at her while shoving her in the direction of the already idling plane.
Finally free of the ropes they’d wrapped her in, Khloe had taken the chance to run as fast as she could in the direction of the metal hangar instead. She’d only made it a dozen feet before being tackled from behind. The heavy weight of the henchman had crashed her bare knees into the cement with enough force to take her breath away.
Taking stock of her injuries now, she glanced down at her knees to see ugly scrapes and deep cuts. Drops of blood streaked down her shins. If she had the use of her hands, she’d have scooped up that blood and smeared it all over the plane. Like Hansel and Gretel, she was determined to leave breadcrumbs — her DNA — everywhere she went.
Unfortunately, one of the men helping her abductor had taken the time to tie her to her seat. She wouldn’t be moving an inch until they let her.
Like in the van, Khloe distracted herself by looking around the interior of the plane. It was smaller than the Condor Ryder flew between BSO locations. Did that mean it wouldn’t fly as far or as fast?
It was also less opulent, which didn’t matter, other than it meant there were less items onboard she could turn into a weapon.
Khloe felt the gaze of her abductor. He’d taken the seat directly across from her, his back to the cockpit. Between them was a table with a closed laptop on top. Training her line of sight back to her knees, she risked a peek at her kidnapper through her long lashes.
The lighting in the cabin was brighter than the back of the van, accentuating the silvery lines of scars all over the patches of skin visible on her captor. He’d clearly been severely injured in his past. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to deduce that her husband had most likely been responsible for those injuries.
Hating the gleam of victory in the man’s eyes, Khloe slammed her own eyes closed, trying to shut out the nightmare. But in the darkness, visions of all that had happened in the last hour came flooding in, threatening to push her into a panic attack.
