Page 21 of Off the Grid
Leo followed them down the highway for another fifteen minutes, off an exit, and over a few side streets. He stayed back, always keeping at least a car or two between them, until the van slipped into a warehouse at the end of a block. Leo turned down a side street and cut his engine, using a building as cover. Poking his head around the corner, he waited for their next play. This area was too public, too crowded. It was the sort of place where a pedestrian might hear if McKenzie screamed. Leo suspected they were exchanging vehicles, but there was no way to be sure.
Ten minutes later the black van pulled back onto the street.
Leo hastily rolled the bike behind a parked car and crouched low so he wouldn’t be seen from the main road. The van sped past, not slowing down as it zipped by.
His heart thundered.
What if they weren’t changing vehicles?
What if it was a ploy?
What if they were waiting me out? Making sure they weren’t being followed?
What if McKenzie is in that car right now, praying I’ll find her?
What if I just sealed her fate?
His fingers fidgeted, dancing through air as his energy spiked, pulsing through his system with a rush of adrenaline. They itched to wrap around the handlebars and fly into the night. They itched to chase. But his gut was steady, solid, and it told him to wait.
Five excruciating minutes passed.
Leo walked back to the corner, keeping an eye on the warehouse down the street. Another minute ticked by before the nose of a new van poked onto the street, slate gray this time. There was a name painted across the side door. Leo couldn’t make it out, but he suspected it was the name of a phony business, meant to ease the minds of laymen who might see the van parked outside their house. He went back to his hiding spot behind the car.
The gray van rolled by, each foot slower than the last. The driver was clearly taking his time to study the streets around him. Leo let go of the breath he’d been holding as relief coursed through his system.
I was right.
I haven’t lost her.
I was right.
The only reason they’d be moving so slow was to make sure they weren’t being followed, and the only reason they’d be worried about that was if they had precious cargo. Leo ignored the scratch of asphalt against his cheek and kept low to the ground, gluing his gaze to the van as it made its way slowly down the street, almost daring any onlookers to come out of hiding. He wasn’t an idiot. Right now, he was outnumbered, outgunned, and lacking the element of surprise. He needed to wait for the opportune moment to strike, and this clearly wasn’t it. Actually, he had no idea when that time would come. He didn’t have backup. He was facing the most well-armed criminal enterprise active in the United States today. And he had no way to contact his team. Leo was breaking just about every inch of protocol the bureau had hammered into his brain. But there was another code of honor that was drilled even deeper into his core, sewn into the very fiber of his being—leave no man or woman behind. If he abandoned McKenzie now, no one would ever find her again. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he was her only hope, and he’d promised his friend and himself that he’d protect her no matter the cost.
He planned to keep that promise.
The gray van slipped around the corner. Leo climbed back on the motorcycle and eased it into motion, keeping his lights off and the purr of the engine as quiet as possible. He would wait and watch and follow for however long it took for that perfect window of opportunity to arise.
- 8 -
McKenzie
McKenzie stumbled as her kidnappers pushed her forward. She couldn’t see anything with the bag still over her head, but at least now she was on solid ground. They’d helped her out of the van a few moments ago and were now leading her to an unknown destination. Muffled voices caught her ear, too low to decipher. She tried to slowdown to listen, but a palm pressed into her back urging her on. After a few more steps, fingers gripped her tied wrists, jerking her to a halt. They ripped the bag from her head and shoved her through a door. McKenzie tripped over her feet and fell. With her hands still bound, she rolled twice before coming to a stop. She blinked a few times, trying to regain her composure.
Stay focused.
Stay sharp.
She steadied her breathing. If she fell into hysterics, she’d never get out of this. Her only chance was to keep a level head, take in every detail, and wait for her moment. One would come eventually—she had no choice but to believe it would. The key was in making sure she’d be ready to capitalize on it.
McKenzie darted her gaze around the room, cataloging every detail. It was small, no more than eight by eight, maybe a closet of some sort. Two men with guns stood blocking the door—she assumed they were the same ones who’d prodded her in here like a cow into a pen. Though she was tough, she also knew her limits. They were armed and each had a hundred pounds on her. There was no chance she’d be able to break her way through. Pushing the idea from her mind, she studied the space around her, searching for anything to work with. The room was awash in gray. The floor was cool beneath her and smooth from a coat of shiny epoxy. The cinderblock walls were impenetrable. There were no vents and only a single light switch, controlling the bare bulb dangling from the ceiling overhead. A small mattress sat against the wall with one pillow and a set of white sheets.
How long do they expect me to be in here?Her stomach sank, but then she paused and swallowed.I guess it’s better than the alternative.
Shaking the thought from her mind before fear could stifle her focus, McKenzie turned her attention back to the door. The guards spoke quietly with each other, tossing intermittent glances in her direction. An uncomfortable tingle crept down her spine, but she ignored it and looked past them, to the room barely visible through the gap between their bodies. The first thing she saw was a red convertible with a tan hood and gleaming silver wheels. It definitely looked expensive. Behind it, there was a silver sports car, also pristine and seemingly pricey.
Am I in a garage?
She didn’t have a good enough view to see anything else—no tools, no doors, no one besides her guards. Yet she had the sense she was somewhere private, not industrial. The walk from the van hadn’t been very far. They’d been outside for a few brief seconds, long enough for McKenzie to hear the wind through the trees, before coming inside. Chances were she was in the basement of someone’s home. If she could just get out of this closet, a door outside might not be too far away.
