Page 84 of The Captive Missing

When she came to the front door, she was half tempted to shove out of it and never look back. But the truth was that even if they didn’t try to stop her, she wouldn’t last more than a mile in the North Carolina wilderness. She didn’t know which direction to hike, or how far the nearest town was. Although she was tempted, Val had learned well from her experience with Cambric. She needed to remain quiet and complacent, wait for an opportunity to present itself, then be bold enough to take it.

Eyes darting about, she didn’t see anyone in the front parlor. There were no telephones either. Deciding to make a quick investigation of the house, Val walked through the living room and headed for the kitchen. There were no phones, no electronic devices anywhere.

Lingering at the threshold of the kitchen, Val steadied herself against the doorframe and took in the scene. The blonde that had arrived earlier was standing over the stove looking down. She was all alone in the room, and appeared to be focused on cooking something, though her body blocked what it was.

She was shorter than Val, maybe five-foot-four or even five at the most, with a slender figure that seemed to thicken out around the middle. Humming to herself, the woman shifted, and her bright blue eyes caught hold of Val. Though her expression lit with surprise, the blonde did not cry out, instead she pressed her lips together purposefully and exhaled a huff of breath. Subconsciously, her hand stroked protectively over her belly. Val judged her to be about six months along.

“Hello, we haven’t met.” The blonde crossed the space and extended a hand. “I’m Ava Moore.”

“Ava.” Val frowned, recalling Finn’s last words to her. “Agent Finn asked me to say hi for him.”

“Did he?” Ava looked amused.

Just then the whistle of a boiling tea kettle began to blow. The sound climbed in intensity as Ava shifted to fetch it off of the stove. She didn’t waddle quite yet, but it wouldn’t be long.

“Would you like some tea?” Ava called over her shoulder.

Opening cupboards, she grabbed a box of green tea bags, then let her hand hover over a collection of mugs. Val’s stomach was in knots. She hadn’t eaten well, couldn’t hardly sleep. At any moment a fresh set of tears loomed. In short, she was overwrought.

There was guilt at having abandoned Charlie and the others. Then there was anger at being held in place, forbidden from contacting her husband. And underneath it all there was a deep longing to see her son again. It was an ache that sucked at her very soul, threatening to drain her completely. Did she want tea? No, she didn’t want any tea.

Not able to give an audible answer, Val crossed her arms over her stomach and stared. Glancing back briefly, Ava plucked down two thick white cups and set about preparing the hot liquid. Steam drifted slowly up as she worked. Silence hung in the room like a cloud.

“Here.” Ava thrust one mug into Val’s hands as she passed her. “There’s a phone in my brother’s office.”

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise, Val followed the methodic pace of the other woman. Down the corridor they went, the same as the day before. The windows were once again open, admitting the late-afternoon breeze. It had been warm all day, but the sun had shifted in its position. Now that it dove for the western tip of the mountains, a coolness had begun.

Without knocking, Ava opened the door to Clay Montgomery’s office and let Val inside. It was empty, but the once tidy space had been left cluttered. Papers were scattered in disarray, pens rolled on the desk top, one even sat on the floor. Grumbling to herself, Ava set about straightening the mess. She stacked and filed and cleaned until she eventually eased her bulk to sit in the wide leather office chair.

With a sigh, she gestured to a cell phone.

“We are not in the business of keeping mothers from their children,” Ava said. “But before you pick up that phone, I would like to explain what will happen if you make that call today.”

Val’s hand shot out greedily towards the sleek cell phone, but then stopped mid-way. She leaned forward in her stiff wooden chair, elbow propped against the tabletop. Flicking her eyes to Ava, she wondered at the look of concern she saw there. Who was this woman that Agent Finn seemed to know? She had said this was her brother’s office, could she mean Clay? Their last names didn’t match, though.

Sitting back, Val let her gaze travel to Ava’s hands as they cupped the warm mug. She was married, her ring finger glittered with a toss of diamonds. Giving a tight nod, Val decided to wait for her explanation.

“Finn wanted us to get you out almost the second he dropped you off,” Ava began, sipping quietly. “I have to admit I’m the one who refused.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The process of freeing captives is a very delicate one. More delicate than one might think. It took us years to infiltrate the security contractors, then months to develop a reliable escape plan.”

“Us? You mean Clay? The Militia?”

“It was my brother’s idea originally and the Militia helped in the beginning stages, but I run the operation. I use my own people, we have our own funding.”

“Your brother is Clay Montgomery?”

“Yes.” Ava laughed at the look on Val’s face. “He’s made a great first impression I see. He has a way of doing that.”

Val resolved to remain silent on the subject. Clay hadn’t done anything against her, save for preventing her from contacting her husband and son. Though his manner and way of talking made her feel pressured. Pressured to comply.

“When we select a captive to rescue, they have to meet certain criteria. They must be low-level, with no set clients or schedule. We prefer party or hourly captives because there are so many. It helps if they are at their lowest point. If they’ve been under discipline or in Isolation for an extended period of time, then they have little to no contact with other captives.”

“Why?”

“The guard detail in Isolation does not work in the housing sect and vice-versa. We want to take a captive that no one will miss.”

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