Page 17 of Agent's Integrity

The first guy regained his feet and tackled me. I hit my knees hard and lost my grip on the knife. The other one kicked it away and grabbed my wrists. I tried to fight, but my muscles burned with pain and fatigue. He wedged my arms behind me and bound them together. My feet were next. After that, I was jerked upright and divested of my weapons and tablet.

“I got it.” One of the men held up the evidence bag with the memory stick. At least it had survived undamaged.

“What do we do about the other guy?” Another man was bent over, peering in at Jordan.

I held my breath, praying they’d leave him alone. I would fight like a wildcat if they tried to hurt him. They would have to kill us both.

The one holding me seemed to be in charge. I could hear the frustration in his voice when he snarled at the other man. “We don’t have time. Leave him. He hasn’t seen us, and he’ll die anyway. She called for backup. We need to get out of here.”

With that, I was hauled up a bank to where a small shuttle waited. Behind me, I could hear the other two lifting the injured man and struggling after us. I didn’t try to fight, mostly because there was nothing I could do, but also because I didn’t want them to think about using Jordan against me. I still had my tracker. My team would find me.

The door to the shuttle stood open, and I was carried inside and dumped unceremoniously on the floor. The injured man was brought in and dropped with just as much care beside me. I scooted away from him and put my back to the wall. I was breathing hard, and I tried to slow down, calm down, and assess the situation. I was kidnapped and injured, but not fatally so, and I wanted that memory stick back. I watched the leader stuff it into his pocket. I wasn’t going to leave without that thing. Not when I had worked so hard for it.

As soon as the last man was aboard, the shuttle took off. The leader went and said something to the pilot in a low voice and then came back to me. I glared at him, and he glared right back. He had hooded, deep set, beady eyes. Thick, black brows sat low over them, adding to his menacing appearance. A white, puckered scar ran from the side of his nose to the outer corner of his mouth. He was in his late thirties to early forties, with the hard face of a seasoned criminal. A murderer. Mercenary, maybe, though this crew didn’t exactly feel like a mercenary outfit. His face was shaved, except for thin sideburns that ran down the length of each jaw. Short black hair covered the rest of his head, though his hairline was deeply receding.

He stopped in front of me and pulled a knife from his pocket. I tensed and tried to push away from him. He grabbed my arm, and one of his buddies pushed me onto my stomach and held me down.

My jacket and shirt were pulled back from my neck, and I stilled, knowing exactly what they were doing. I barely had time to brace myself before the knife dug into my skin, cutting deep. I screamed, unable to help myself, as the tip of the blade dug around until it found my tracker. My vision blurred, and I thought I would pass out. Only a few moments passed before he pulled the knife out.

The tracker fell to the floor in front of my face and a booted heel smashed it to pieces. I closed my eyes and whimpered. That was my lifeline. A tracker was a cop’s best friend. If anything happened, I could be found, but not if it was destroyed. My chances of surviving had just decreased exponentially.

Someone slapped a bandage on the wound. I laid on the floor, in too much pain to do anything else. I focused on breathing and on trying to work through the shock and panic.

Focus on the positive.

I was still alive. That was something. And so was Jordan. I hoped he would stay that way. Abbott would be able to track him, find him, and get him help. My team would make sure Jordan survived. He would be safe. The file hadn’t been destroyed yet. I wasn’t sure what they were going to do with it, but it was still intact. That was positive. I wasn’t seriously injured. In a lot of pain, sure, but no broken bones or internal injuries from what I could tell. I wasn’t completely incapacitated.

The others were taking their seats, and one was tending to the man I’d stabbed. I wasn’t sure if he was going to live, but I doubted it. I was pretty sure I had nicked something vital.

One of the men eyed me for a long time before looking at the one in charge. “Hey, boss. Why don’t we kill her?”

The boss obviously tried to be patient, though he still rolled his eyes. “Were you not listening earlier? We need information. We need to know if they looked at the memory stick and if they have any idea who was behind the chancellor’s kidnapping. Idiot.”

I didn’t think that was a good turn of events. I swallowed hard and tried not to panic as the boss walked back over to me. He eyed me disdainfully. “We’ll find out what she knows. Andthenwe’ll kill her.”

Crap, crap, crap.

His lackey grinned. “And what about the thumb drive?”

The boss, obviously irritated, faced him. “Our employer wants it. We keep it and hand it over once she’s dead.”

I closed my eyes when I felt a tear leak down my cheek. This was not the time to cry. I forced away the despair that sat in the pit of my stomach. They might be planning on killing me, but they weren’t going to do it right away, so there was time to plan some sort of escape. I would fight with my every breath to survive.

The shuttle docked on a ship, shuddering.If there is a God, or anyone, or anything out there, please, please let Jordan live. Please help me survive this. Don’t let me die like this. Please. I need to be there for Lexi. Help me.

The shuttle door opened, and I could hear the others stirring and moving about. I knew with certainty that whatever happened next was not going to be pretty. Someone grabbed me by the shoulder, jerked me to my feet, and hauled me through the door. He yanked on my hurt shoulder, and the pain hit hard. My vision swam, and I blacked out.

CHAPTER FOUR

Ethan

An alarm wailed overhead, signaling that the conditions outside were ‘unfavorable’, and I sighed. I stood by the ship’s exterior door, pulled a mask over the lower half of my face, and adjusted the goggles around my eyes. Reaching over, I pressed a button to silence the alarm.

“I do not think it is a good idea for you to leave, Ethan. The storm will be here soon.”

I faced Andy, who stood tranquilly a few feet from me, looking at me with an unchanging, bland expression. I shook my head and smiled under the mask. “I’ll be fine, Andy.”

“The storm is approaching from the east and brings with it many dangers. It would be unwise to get caught in it.”

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