Page 26 of Fire and Ice (Buchanan-Renard 7)

  “Five minutes at the most. She was saying good-bye, and suddenly she screamed … then she was gone.”

  “We’ll pinpoint her location,” Pittman said as she nodded to an agent.

  “Where are you now, Mr. Rose?”

  “I’m on my way to the park.”

  “We’ll meet you there,” Alec said.

  “Listen to me, MacAlister. You find her. You hear me? You find her.”

  The second the call ended, Jack looked at Pittman. In a rage, he said, “That son of a bitch Lemming has her. I know it.” He threw his chair out of his way and ran.

  Pittman grabbed the phone and called for help as she began issuing orders to the others in the room.

  Alec caught up with Jack in the parking garage. “I’m driving,” he shouted.

  Shaking with fury, Jack was trying not to think about what could be happening to Sophie, trying to concentrate on finding her.

  Nelson Park wasn’t far away, but by the time Alec and Jack arrived, the area was swarming with police. There was no sign of Sophie, and no one had seen anything.

  “He has her, Alec. You know I’m right. I should have dragged him in. I should have—”

  “There isn’t any evidence.”

  “Screw evidence.” He looked around at the crowd and the police. Other agents were arriving on the scene.

  “We’re close to Sophie’s office. Maybe she left something behind. An address, a note, anything.”

  Jack was running to the car nodding. “We’re losing time. The longer he has her—”

  “We’ll find her, we’ll find her,” Alec promised as he jumped into the driver’s seat. “Why? Why would Lemming risk taking her? He knew we didn’t have any evidence against him. He’d be in custody if we did. It doesn’t make sense.”

  Alec slammed on the brakes in front of the newspaper offices and left the car double-parked with the lights flashing.

  “I don’t know what his reason is,” Jack said.

  Bitterman was turning the light off in his office and heading to the door when he saw Jack and Alec running at him. “What’s happened?”

  Alec quickly filled him in. Bitterman’s face paled.

  “Did she mention where she was going when she left here?” Alec asked.

  “I assumed she was going home. She was supposed to turn in an article, but she left without finishing it. That’s very unusual for Sophie.”

  “Did she say anything to you, anything at all about where she would be going or who she would be talking to?”

  “We talked about work. She told me about the doctors up in Alaska. She thought they were doing something to those poor animals. I made her promise to stop snooping, and she agreed, said she’d let the FBI figure it out.”

  Bitterman led the way to her desk.

  Gary jumped up when he saw the agents. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Sophie’s missing.”

  Gary immediately looked down at his feet. “I wouldn’t worry. She’s probably shopping. She’ll turn up.”

  Jack was tearing through Sophie’s desk looking for anything that might shed some light on her whereabouts.

  “She’s not shopping,” Bitterman told him in a near shout. “Someone took her.”

  “Oh … I see. I hope she’s all right.”

  Jack spotted the bug on the back of Sophie’s monitor. “What the …”

  He looked at Alec and picked up Sophie’s phone. He had it apart in seconds.

  “Another bug,” he said. “Short range.”

  Alec turned to Gary. Jack slowly advanced.

  “You want to step out into the aisle?” Alec said.

  “Why? I’m not finished working.”

  Jack wasn’t going to waste time explaining. He grabbed Gary by his shirt and tossed him out of the way.

  “What do we have here?” Alec asked, pointing to an earpiece underneath a box of paper clips inside the desk drawer.

  Gary tried to back away. Alec blocked him from going any farther.

  “You’ve been listening to her phone conversations, haven’t you? You bugged her office, and you bugged Bitterman’s office, too.”

  “No, no, I didn’t—”

  “It was you?” Bitterman demanded.

  “What did you hear on Sophie’s phone?” Alec asked.

  Jack had Gary by the throat. “You listen to me, you perv. I’m not wasting time here. If you know something, you better tell me now. I’m going to count to five, and then I’m going to snap your neck. One … two … three …”

  “Okay, okay. Some man called her and said he needed her help. He wanted to give her some videos she could take to the FBI. She told him to bring them here, but he wouldn’t, so she was going to meet him.”

  “Where?”

  “Cosmo’s. He wanted her to meet him somewhere else, but she wouldn’t.”

  “Where did he want to meet?” Alec asked.

  “Sixty-eighth and Prescott.”

  “When I told you Sophie was missing, why didn’t you speak up?” Bitterman demanded.

  “Then you’d find out I was listening, and I’d get in trouble. I wasn’t gonna hurt anybody. I was sure her father would call and maybe say something I could sell—”

  Jack shoved him so hard, he fell across his desk.

  Alec was running for the stairs talking on his cell phone, and Jack followed right behind.

  Bitterman shouted, “What can I do to help?”

  “Keep him here,” Jack shouted. “Don’t let him out of your sight, and if he remembers anything else, you call me.”

  “I don’t know anything else,” Gary screamed. “You can’t make me stay …”

  Bitterman picked up the phone and called security.

  Jack and Alec flew down the stairs to the street. “I’ll call Pittman,” Jack said as Alec gunned the motor. “I don’t know this city. Where’s Sixty-eighth and Prescott?”

  By now, Jack had Pittman on the phone and he repeated the question to her. She had a map spread out on the conference table but didn’t have to use it.

  “Old warehouses and storage units,” she said. “It’s a big area, Alec. You’ll need help doing a sweep.”

  They got backup within minutes. Jack could hear sirens as police rushed toward them. “How far away are we?”

  “Not far,” Alec said. “She’s stronger than she looks, Jack. If she can hold on …”

  “Can’t you drive any faster?”

  Alec was speeding like a NASCAR driver on the final loop.

  Pittman called back, and Alec put her on speaker. “They’re setting up around the perimeter. More men on the way.”

  Police cars barricaded 68th Street. Alec slammed on the brakes, and Jack jumped out before the car came to a stop. He looked at his watch. She’d been gone almost an hour. Her chances decreased with every minute.

  Hang on, Sophie.

  SOPHIE SLOWLY REGAINED CONSCIOUSNESS. SHE GROANED and tried to sit up. Falling back, she tried again, this time bracing her hands on the floor to balance herself. It was pitch black. She reached out to find a light switch, but there wasn’t anything there. She touched the floor again. It was cold, hard … concrete?

  Where was she?

  She finally gained enough strength in her limbs to stand. She swayed back and forth but stayed upright. Her head was pounding, and she felt dazed and disoriented. Stretching her arms out in front of her, she took a tentative step. If she could find a window or door, she could let some light in.

  Something blocked her. She pushed, heard a crash, reached out again, and felt cardboard. Sophie stood perfectly still. With deep, calming breaths, she tried to control the panic she felt welling up inside her.

  Where was she?

  She couldn’t hear any noises, any traffic. Someone had hit her. She could still feel the pain. She touched her face, felt stickiness. Blood from the blow?

  Her memory was coming back. Daddy. She’d been talking to her father. Yes, she’d had her cell phone up to her ear, and

suddenly there was excruciating pain … then darkness.

  She had to find a door or a window and get outside. Oh, God, what if she was in a tunnel or a cave? What if she couldn’t get out?

  She tried to control her fear. She put her hands out again, feeling her way until she reached a wall. What was it? Cement blocks? She moved across the wall to a door. She felt a handle. She whimpered as she tried to turn it.

  The door suddenly burst in on her, and she was thrown to the floor.

  She screamed and scrambled to her feet. A glaring light was shoved in her face, blinding her. She put her hand up to block it and saw the outline of a man behind the light, but couldn’t see who he was.

  “Hello, Sophie. I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Dr. Marcus Lemming. Recognize my voice? We had such nice talks over the phone. Of course, I called myself Paul Larson then.”

  He put the flashlight on a cardboard box, propped it up, and stepped forward. He was holding a crowbar in his left hand down at his side.

  “You’ve caused me a considerable amount of distress. Do you know why? You couldn’t stop poking your nose in where it didn’t belong. You had to keep searching … had to find out …”

  He lashed out with his fist and hit her hard in the shoulder, knocking her into the wall. She crumpled to the floor. Before she could recover, he grabbed her arm, yanking her up.

  “What do you know about the Alpha Project?”

  She didn’t answer fast enough.

  “What did Harrington tell you?” Lemming demanded.

  “Nothing,” she said, her voice trembling. “He didn’t …”

  “Don’t lie to me. What do you know?”

  He slowly swung the crowbar back and forth. “How did you find out about this place? How did you know to come here?”

  “I didn’t know … I …”

  “Liar,” he shouted. “Did you find my journal? Is that how you found out about the project? No, you couldn’t have,” he answered his own question. “The journal’s here.”

  He took another step closer. “Who told you?”

  “No one … I didn’t …”

  He hit her with the crowbar, though he was careful not to kill her. He needed his answers first. The sharp edge had cut into her skin above her ear, and blood now poured down. She tried to focus. He was moving in the light, and there were shadows dancing along the wall. She thought she saw something moving in the corner. Was someone there? Had someone followed her? Daddy? Or Jack … did he call Jack? Please let it be Jack. She had to distract Lemming. Her mind raced. Hurry. Hurry.

  “How did you know to come here?” he asked again.

  The question made no sense. He was out of his mind, Sophie thought. Had he become delirious? “You know how I got here,” she said. “You know.”

  He stopped, tilted his head, thinking about her answer. “I know? How could I …” He shook his head. “No, you’re lying.”

  “If you kill me, they’ll hunt you down.”

  “They’ll never find me. I’ll have fifty million dollars and a new identity.” He pulled her to her knees. “I had great plans for you, but now I’ll have to change them. Too bad you had to be so nosy. You’re making me do this …”

  ALEC BUCHANAN WAS THE AGENT IN CHARGE. HE LEANED over the hood of his car. In front of him was a map of the area that one of the policemen had grabbed from his glove compartment. Two plainclothes detectives flanked his sides, and one aimed a flashlight toward the map, watching while Alec sectioned off zones for each team to search. The police and FBI agents were gathered in a vacant parking lot at the end of the huge complex, an industrial area of warehouses and storage units. Most workers had gone home for the night, so the streets were empty.

  “This will take days,” an officer complained in a whisper to his partner. He happened to look across the car at Agent MacAlister and immediately regretted the comment.

  “What about Lemming’s vehicle?” Alec asked a detective. “Every cop in the city is searching for it. We’ll find it.” “He could have parked his car inside one of these buildings.” A young policeman in uniform stepped forward and spoke to Alec. “Excuse me, sir, but I know this area. I think I can help.” He pointed to the map. “Prescott ends here,” he said. “The buildings to the east are boarded up. I know. I’ve had to drag kids out of there. The city’s going to tear them down, but they haven’t gotten around to it yet. There are several places a car could squeeze in … alleys, too. I’d start there and work my way east.”

  He pointed to another section. “This three-block area here is filled with self-storage units. Some have fences around them, others don’t. I don’t think he could hide a vehicle in there. He’d have to park on the street … or maybe in between the units.”

  Agents and policemen fanned out in every direction to circle the area and slowly move in. Alec made sure every cop in the city was on alert, but the warehouse district got priority. At the moment, it was the only lead he had.

  Another agent, Hank Sawyer, took over so that Alec could search with Jack. They got into Alec’s car and headed east. They drove through the broken gate of a wire fence and turned onto 70th Street.

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Jack said. “He’d have a reason to go to one of the self-storage units. When the team searched his home and his office, they found computer files, but they didn’t look for the hard copies. Kirk Halpern said there were hard copies shipped back. Lemming had to have stored them. Those missing discs could be here. Look where we are. No one’s going to ask questions when you rent one of these. If he paid cash and used another name …”

  “Why would he bring Sophie here?”

  Jack shook his head, feeling at though he was grasping at straws, but desperate to have an answer. “He plans to pick up his stuff and get out of Chicago. Maybe he wants to get even with Sophie. Maybe she was getting too close … I don’t know. One thing I’m sure of: if he has her and he plans to run, he won’t take her with him.”

  Alec made the turn into a narrow alley between two tall buildings. With the headlights turned off, the car rolled forward at a snail’s pace. Most of the streetlights were burned out or broken. Up ahead a bulb hanging off a post flickered and buzzed repeatedly. Emerging onto a street, they saw a police car four blocks away patrolling slowly on the same mission.

  “Stay in the alleys,” Jack said. The night air was fogging up the windows. He rolled his window down to get a better view as they drove up and down the tight passages.

  “Wait,” Jack said suddenly. He stuck his head out the window and squinted.

  Three alleys over, neatly tucked between two rusted Dumpsters, was a car. Alec pulled to a stop.

  “That’s it,” Jack said. “That’s Lemming’s.” He got out. “Call Sawyer. Tell him, no sirens, no lights.” He slowly walked down the alley, studying the doors on the left, while Alec followed, concentrating on the units on the right. The rolling doors were big enough to drive a truck through, indicating the volume behind them was large. Next to each garage door was a side door. Everything was locked up tight.

  Jack had almost reached the end of the row of doors when he saw a sliver of light peeking beneath the rubber weather stripping. He moved closer, straining to hear sounds.

  A man’s muffled voice was low and threatening, but Jack couldn’t make out what he was saying. Then he heard a scream … Sophie’s scream.

  He shot the lock, kicked the door in, and raced inside, taking in the scene all at once: cardboard boxes stacked high, a flashlight propped on top, the beam directed at Sophie. She was on her knees on the floor. Lemming, in the shadows, stood over her holding a crowbar. He was swinging it down toward Sophie when Jack shot him.

  Once wasn’t enough. It was a solid hit to the chest, but Marcus Lemming didn’t go down. He staggered back, gained his balance, and lunged at Sophie again. Running toward the man, Jack shot twice more as he grabbed Sophie’s arm and dragged her behind him. Finally, Lemming dropped, face smashed into the concrete floor, the crowba

r still in his hands.

  Jack knelt beside Sophie and saw the blood on the side of her face.

  “Sophie, look at me. Open your eyes.”

  She struggled to focus. She saw Marcus, then Jack leaning over her. He took her in his arms and gently lifted her. She tucked her head under his chin and felt him shaking. It hurt to move, but she forced herself to turn her head just enough to press her lips to his ear. “Two,” she whispered.

  Jack understood. He looked up in time to see a shadow move between boxes against the back wall. With lightning speed, he threw himself on top of Sophie and fired. The shadow darted out and wildly returned fire. Jack emptied his clip and reached for another. Alec appeared in the doorway.

  “Behind the boxes, left side,” Jack shouted.

  “I’ve got him. Get her out of here,” Alec ordered. He fired once and moved in front of Jack.

  They heard a click and knew the bastard’s weapon was empty now.

  “I surrender. I surrender. Don’t shoot me. I’m dropping my gun and coming out. Don’t shoot.”

  Hands in the air, Kirk Halpern stepped toward the light. The son of a bitch had a smile on his face.

  THE SCENE AT THE HOSPITAL WAS CHAOTIC. SOPHIE HAD been taken down to radiology for tests and was now back in the emergency room, parked in a bed behind a curtain while she waited for the plastic surgeon to stitch her up. Regan and Cordie stayed at her side. A nurse and an aide recognized Sophie from her last visit, and both asked to take their dinner breaks.

  Sophie had a blistering headache, but the doctor wouldn’t give her anything for the pain, not even an aspirin, until he heard the results of her tests.

  “He’s waiting to hear if you’ve got a concussion,” Cordie explained.

  “Is my father here?” Sophie asked. “I was talking to him on the phone when it happened.”

  “He’s on his way,” Regan told her. “I heard he was giving the police a hard time over at the park. They found your phone by the fountain, and there was blood on it. He was beside himself.”

  “Where are Jack and Alec?”

  “They were here, but once they knew you were going to be okay, they left.”