Red After Dark (Blackwood Security #13) - Elise Noble Page 0,69
recognised some of the names spoken over the radio. Ana was Emmy’s half-sister. Xavier was another ex-boyfriend, former Israeli special forces if Alaric’s sources were to be trusted. Dan was along for the ride too, the little traitor, plus Carmen, Nate’s wife. The big mystery? Where the hell was Black? He was using his wife as bait for a psycho, yet he wasn’t in any of the chase cars. Neither was Nate, and the pair of them had been joined at the hip since their Navy SEAL days.
They were up to something.
Nick increased his speed a touch, passing Ana and her shadowy passenger in their battered Volkswagen. The car might have looked one ride away from a junkyard, but Alaric didn’t doubt that it was a different story under the hood. That engine was no clunker.
The Pontiac came into view, silver in colour, two years old with no dings, dents, or scratches. Nondescript. If Alaric had needed to select a vehicle for transporting a kidnap victim, he’d have chosen something similar. Following the pattern set by Blackwood, he and Nick would stay in sight for twenty minutes or so, then swap again.
“We’re approaching Beckley,” Nick told everyone.
The unnamed controller took over. “Carmen, you go west on I-64. Isaiah, take I-77.”
Carmen and Isaiah were in front of the Pontiac at the moment. Whichever route it didn’t take, that driver would turn around and join the back of the tail. In the FBI, Alaric had been involved in many surveillance operations, but budgetary constraints rarely allowed them more than three cars to rotate. Blackwood Security had thrown a lot of resources at today’s proceedings, which made Black’s absence all the more notable.
The screen built into the dash showed the red dots of Carmen and Isaiah peeling off left and right. Where would the Pontiac go? Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.
“Looks like we’re sticking on I-64,” Nick said for the benefit of the others.
Virginia it was. Which meant at least four more hours of worry.
Still, they got the chance for a bathroom break. They were fourth in the procession when the Pontiac pulled into a gas station, and the controller told Dan and Cade to carry on past. Nick slotted the Tahoe into a dark corner of the lot, which doubled as Big Al’s Discount Cars, while the Pontiac pulled up at the farthest gas pump. Ana arrived soon after, taking the spot closest to the kiosk.
“We could get Emmy back right now,” Alaric muttered. “That would be the sensible thing to do.”
“Wouldn’t go down too well with the big man.”
“He’s not even here.”
“A hundred bucks says he’s not far away.”
“Aren’t you worried Emmy might get hurt?”
Alaric was fucking terrified. Judging by Emmy’s steady pulse rate and lack of communication, Ridley’s men had given her a long-lasting sedative. She was in no state to fight back.
“Always, but I’ve worked with Black for long enough to trust him. If he says to hold back, then we hold back. You’re not gonna try anything stupid, are you?”
It was damn tempting. Alaric had a gun, but he didn’t fancy his chances against Nick, let alone Ana. In a previous life, Ana had been known as Lilith. Naz knew Lilith by reputation, and he’d warned Alaric to avoid her at all costs.
“No, I’m not.”
The Pontiac’s driver was a squat, tough-looking guy with a scar curving up one side of his neck. He kept his jacket on despite the heat, which meant he was probably carrying a weapon. The passenger looked more like a salesman—wiry with glasses, wrinkled slacks, and a button-down shirt. The driver finished pumping the gas, and then the pair of them headed towards the kiosk.
“They’re gonna stop for coffee,” Ana murmured. “And the fireplug says he needs to take a slash.”
“I’ll go,” an unknown voice said. Ten seconds later, a brown-haired guy unfolded himself from the passenger seat of Ana’s Volkswagen, stretched the kinks out of his back, and sauntered into the kiosk after Ridley’s team.
“Rather him than me,” Nick muttered.
“I’d have volunteered to get that asshole alone in the bathroom.”
“No, I mean having to spend that much time with Ana. Samuel Quinn lost his mind when he hooked up with her. The man must have balls of fuckin’ titanium.”
That was Ana’s boyfriend? Gee, and he looked so normal.
Staying in the front seat of the Tahoe was one of the hardest things Alaric had ever done. He itched to run over to the Pontiac, to force the trunk open and pull Emmy free. But he