Billionaire Decoded (17 page)

Would the guards have any
identification on them, any connection to Brecken's firm? She doubted it.
Everything he had done was wreathed in secrecy. She had a feeling that the
police would figure that a drug deal or a robbery gone bad had accounted for
the dead men in the alley. There would be no connection leading back to her.
Even if they did get back to her apartment, what would they find? Nothing. Only
her cell phone would connect her to Brecken and his firm.

Her heart sank. The only thing she
could hope to do was to try and scratch one of them. Then, if her body wasn't
thrown in the harbor, she could then hope and pray that some DNA could be found
under her fingernails. But with their hands tied behind her back, there was
little hope of her being able to scratch one of them. If they removed her gag
she might be able to bite one of them, but the chances of that were slim, as
well.

She felt herself being roughly
lifted out of the car and placed on her feet.

"I'm going to cut the bindings
on your feet," one of the men said, standing so close that she felt his
breath against her ear. "If you try to kick, I swear I'm going to tie them
back up and I'll throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It makes
no never mind to me. You understand?"

Though her insides roiled with
anger, fear, and nausea, she nodded. At least she was on her own two feet. She
couldn't run, not blindfolded. She felt something slashing at what she assumed
was duct tape around her ankles, and then it was pulled away.

"Now walk."

Alyson again. Where was Alyson
taking her? She didn't hear the sound of water, so she doubted she'd be dropped
off the end of the pier, at least, not yet. With the two men holding onto each
of her arms, she could do little but follow.

She stumbled several times, but the
men held her upright. Her head throbbed, waves of dizziness surged through her,
and it was all she could do not to succumb to her nausea. If she threw up with
the gag on her mouth, she would probably choke on it. She didn't want to die
that way. That was for sure.

"Wait here."

Again, Alyson's voice. Her heart
pounding loudly in her ears, Heather stood between the two men holding onto her
as she heard a heavy metal door open. It creaked loudly and then slammed shut.
What the hell? If Alyson wanted to kill her, why didn't she just get it over
with? Why take her all this way? It was then that she realized that something
else was probably going on.

Within minutes, the door creaked
open.

"Bring her inside," Alyson
said. "I can't wait to see the look on his face. I want her to see the
look on his face, too. Take off the blindfold and the gag." She chuckled
softly. "This is going to be good."

One of the men pulled the blindfold
off of her face while the other one untied the gag. She spat at bits of string
left in her mouth. It was dark in here, wherever
here
was. They were in a dark room, but at the far end she saw a
door with a glass window. Through the window a dull light glowed. Once again,
her heart began to thud in terror. She turned to Alyson.

"You're not going to get away
with this," she said.

Alyson responded by slapping her,
hard. She bit her lip and in the next instant tasted blood.

"Shut up, bitch, or I’m going
to put the gag back on."

Heather blinked back the tears that
threatened due to the sudden pain in her now throbbing lip. She wasn't a
violent person, never had been, but if she could get her hands on Alyson at
this moment, she would hurt her. None of this stupid slapping crap, either. She
would punch her right in the nose; break it. Smash it. She'd smash in her teeth
and wipe that insipid grin off her face.

Alyson saw her fury and laughed.
"What are you going to do about it, bitch? As you can see, I'm the one in
control here. Brecken is going to find out what happens when someone turns on
me."

Despite the pain throbbing in her
head, and her fear, Heather couldn't help but reply. "You’re doing this
because of Brecken? I feel sorry for any woman who allows a man to guide her
actions. You're pathetic, Alyson, and all the money in the world can’t change
that-"

Another slap. Heather's head snapped
back. Instinctively, she ducked her head and tried to lash out with her feet.
The men pulled her backward, away from Alyson.

"Enough of this
foolishness," Alyson snarled. "Let's get this over with. The party’s
waiting."

Heather watched as Alyson moved in
front of them and pulled open the door. The two men holding onto her arms
stepped through, and then Heather found herself staring at a number of men, all
of them clustered together in one of the corners of the room. A
Hispanic-looking man wearing olive drab fatigues sat in a chair nearby, calmly
giving himself a manicure. She glanced back to the group of men and then felt
her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. Brecken was there in the middle of
them, smiling and nodding.

When the group heard the door open,
they all turned. Heather's eyes were riveted to Brecken. She saw his eyes
widened with surprise, but then he schooled his features, until he caught sight
of Alyson. His face darkened. He glanced from Alyson to Heather, then back
again, and then to the two goons holding onto her.

"Untie her," he ordered.

Alyson laughed. "Since when do
you think you're in charge, Brecken?" She glared at him and then at
Heather. She grabbed a handful of Heather's hair and once again tugged sharply,
as if to show him that she was the one giving orders here.

Infuriated, Heather spat in her
face. Alyson screeched and attacked Heather, defenseless to protect herself.
The two men holding onto her let go beneath Alyson’s onslaught. She felt
herself falling backwards, beneath Alyson's weight. They both toppled to the
floor. Heather tried to roll away from Alyson's scratching fingernails, trying
to kick and shake the crazy woman off of her.

"Enough!"

The shout came from a man who
separated himself from the group of men standing in the corner. He strode
quickly over, grabbed Alyson's arms, and yanked her away from Heather. Heather
saw Brecken hurrying toward her, reaching down to help her off of the floor.

"Don't touch me," she
snapped. She managed to get her feet under her and stood on her own. She felt
the blood from her split lip trickling down her chin. Her head pounded and the
room spun crazily for several seconds before she regained her balance. She
glared at Brecken as he reached for her arm. He clasped his hand around her
upper arm in an iron grip that startled her. She looked up into his face, saw
the curious expression on it, but she was so infuriated her mind couldn't
accept the look she thought she saw in his eyes. Regret? Apology?

He mouthed something and muttered
under his breath.
What? Had he really
said that?
Trust him
? She shook
her head. She was done listening. "I wish I had never met you, Brecken,
you and your crazy bitch of a fiancée. She's a piece of work, you know?"

"Shut up!" Alyson
screeched.

The man holding her told her to
knock it off. Heather glanced at him, and then at Brecken. Then her eyes
traveled to the group of men standing in the corner. While she certainly wasn't
an expert, they all looked military. She glanced up at Brecken. "Friends
of yours?"

She tried not to cry, tried not to
let her fear, her disappointment, and her disillusionment show. She was in
trouble. She didn't know what the hell Brecken was doing with these people or
what Alyson was doing. All she knew was that she was an innocent pawn in
whatever game they were playing. It was so stupid.

"Heather-"

"I don’t want to hear anything
you have to say,” she hissed. “I wish I had never met you! I know about the
baby, so you and Alyson can just go back to playing house together. I don't
want to have anything to do with you." Her anger boiled. "As a matter
of fact, I regret the day that I ever came to work for you!"

Alyson began to laugh.

"Shut up Alyson," Brecken
snarled. "What the hell do you think you're doing, bringing her into
this?" He shook his head and strode toward his ex-fiancée. "This is
between you and me. She had nothing to do with this."

He stopped suddenly and looked back
at Heather, who glared back at him. Then he turned to Alyson, his eyes narrowed
with suspicion. "Where are Jerry and Samuel?"

Alyson smirked. "Let's just say
that my bodyguards took care of yours."

Heather saw the look of shock pass
over Brecken's expression. So, he hadn't been directly involved in her
kidnapping, but he still didn't seem too surprised to see her here. What the
hell was going on, and what did she have to do with any of it?

"You killed my security
guards?" he asked in dismay. His hands were balled into fists at his side.

From where Heather stood, she could
see that Brecken strove to maintain a sense of self-control. He looked like he
wanted to kill Alyson. Good. She wished he would. All she wanted was to get out
of here, in one piece, and alive. She didn't care what was going on between
Alyson and Brecken. Two people had already died because of the crazy woman’s
twisted sense of vengeance and betrayal. While Heather hadn't really liked
those guys, they didn't deserve to die the way they had.

She didn't deserve this, either.

"Brecken, would you mind
telling me what the hell is going on, and what I have to do with any of
this?" she demanded. Though her heart was pounding with fear, she stood
her ground, staring at him as his shoulders sagged slightly. He turned to face
her. She didn't like that look, not one bit. The man she thought she knew,
albeit for only a short time, was not the man who stared at her now.

Brecken had to hide his true motions
though his insides roiled. He could see the look of shock on Heather's face. He
wanted to wrap his arms around her, to protect her, and at the same time he
wanted to literally throttle Alyson. How was she involved in all this? Was she
behind it all? Had she really turned on him to this degree? Out of jealousy? A
sense of possession?

She had murdered his men? She had
kidnapped Heather? Heather’s lip was bleeding. The side of her head was
bleeding. She had been manhandled. The thought sent a fresh flash of fury
surging through Brecken, but he couldn't reveal any of it. Not now. He had to
rein in his emotions; to force himself not to react to Heather's words. They
were in a life or death situation and he was committed to do his best to make
sure that she came out of it alive. That he would come out of it alive.

Enough of this," Williams
snapped, directing Alyson to go sit in a chair near the group of men. He looked
at Heather and smiled. "Shaw, are you going to introduce me to this lovely
young woman?"

Brecken sighed. "Heather is a
new employee working in my accounts department, Williams. She has nothing to do
with any of this."

"She does now," Williams
said. "And since you are not being polite, I'll introduce myself." He
took a step closer to Heather. "My name is Williams. Shaw’s former SEAL
unit commander. Over there are former members of his team." He smiled. “It
took a while to convince Shaw that he should join us, but a little while ago,
he realized it was the best decision he could make under the
circumstances."

Williams glanced at Alyson.
"Alyson approached me a few months ago, informed me of some of Shaw's
activities, under the guise of his computer programming business, of
course." He turned to Brecken. "Alyson has done her part, now I
expect you to do yours."

Brecken refused to look at Heather,
refused to acknowledge the look on her face. That look of disgust and
disappointment was something that he would remember forever. But he couldn't
tell her the truth. Not now. He turned toward the members of his former unit. "What
do you want to know?"

"Everything," Williams
said. He gestured for Alyson's two bodyguards to take Heather to the opposite
side of the room from where Alyson sat.

Brecken tried to avoid staring at
Heather. He could only imagine what she was thinking. Alyson sat in her chair,
a self-satisfied smirk on her face. The fact that Alyson had had his security
men killed filled him with a sense of loathing. He knew she was unbalanced, but
to this degree? How had she found out about the Bolivian colonel? How had she
managed to make contact with him without him finding out? These were all
questions that couldn't be answered, not at the moment.

"I've got dirt on just about
every world leader and important government official, as well as a number of
insurgent groups around the world," he began. He knew he had to keep
talking, work them from the inside. He had to convince them that he didn't care
about Alyson, Heather, or about his own sense of patriotism, duty, and honor.

Then again, he hadn't exactly been
living up to his own standards had he? He had to be convincing, but not
overenthusiastic or they would know he was lying. He had thought he was doing a
pretty good job of it, playing along with the charade, until the door had
opened and those two goons following Alyson had dragged Heather in.

He had been in an impossible
situation. Heather's presence made it even worse. How the hell was he going to
get out of this? How was he going to get Heather out of this? She was innocent.
It was his entire fault. If he had just left her alone… But it was too late to
go back now. Too late to focus on regrets. He had to do what he could to get
them both out of this alive. He had no idea how he was going to go about that
just yet, but for now, he would play along.

He would tell his former SEAL members
what they wanted to know, within reason. That reason would be that he didn't
want to give them everything. If he gave them everything, he would have nothing
to bargain with. He had implied that he would go along with them, that he was
on board, even going so far as to demand a higher percentage than what they
were receiving, but inside, he felt sick to his stomach with loathing. He
didn’t know if they believed him.

He couldn't believe his former SEAL
team members would stoop to such a level. To work with the Bolivians and God
knew who else? It was obvious they were involved with the Russian mafia and
African and Middle Eastern human trafficking rings. What else were they
dabbling in? How many lives had they already ruined?

Brecken continued to relay information,
refusing to look back at Heather. Half of the stuff he told him was an outright
lie, but how were they to know any different? He threw in a few truths along
the way, and saw Williams nodding. Some of the stuff that he had divulged had
ended up in the newspapers. Scandals. Arrests. Deaths. In China, a couple of
beheadings as punishment. Would he end up the same?

Finally, he finished talking.
Williams stepped forward, stood in front of Brecken, so close that he felt his
breath on his face. Brecken wanted to lash out, punch his lights out, but he
remained calm, acting as if he was anxious to hear what his former unit
commander had to say.

"Within two days, we'll all be
back in Afghanistan."

Brecken frowned. Afghanistan?

"All of us, including your dear
ex-fiancée and your current girlfriend-"

"She's not my girlfriend,"
Brecken said. "She has nothing to do with this, Williams."

"Are you denying you met her
yesterday up in New Hampshire?" He glanced at Alyson and smiled.
"We've got pictures you know, of you fucking her at that nice little bed
and breakfast."

"That's all there was to
it," Brecken shrugged. He heard Heather’s gasp from behind him but didn't
react. He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. "Would you turn that
down?"

Williams snickered. "Be that as
it may, they're coming along."

Brecken had to do something to
convince Williams otherwise. He glanced at Alyson and lifted an eyebrow.
"Are you sure you want to bring her along on any mission? Seriously? Who's
going to babysit these two? Who's going to keep them from clawing each other's
eyes out?"

Williams seemed to pause, glancing
between Alyson and Heather. Brecken refused to look over his shoulder at
Heather, although he did see the hatred that turned Alyson's face into a hard
mask.

"Why not just leave them
here?" Brecken suggested. "They're just got to be a pain in the ass
on any mission, and I can tell you that I, for one, don't particularly care to
listen to either one of them whining, arguing, threatening, or fighting the
entire way."

Again, Williams seemed to consider.
It was all Brecken could do to make himself look disgusted at the thought of
bringing the two women along. He didn't have to hide his disgust when he glared
at Alyson, but he still refused to look over his shoulder at Heather. He knew
that she would be taking everything he said to heart. She would believe
everything he was saying.

Nevertheless, he was willing to risk
her hatred if it meant saving her life. He knew that if those two women went to
Afghanistan, they would never return. While he didn't much care what happened
to Alyson, he did care what happened to Heather.

"I'll tell you what, Shaw. I'm
going to renegotiate."

Brecken's heart skipped a beat.
Renegotiate? Had he gone too far? Implied that the two women were nothing but a
hindrance in the completion of whatever mission that they were bent on? He
glanced at his former SEAL team, looking on with boredom. They didn't care what
the hell happened to the women. He glanced at the Bolivian colonel. He was
still focusing on his fingernails. What the hell was he doing here? What did
the Bolivian colonel have to do with anything going on in Afghanistan? Drugs?
Arms?

"I'll tell you what, Shaw.
Maybe we don't need to go to Afghanistan, after all; at least not yet. Maybe we
just need information."

"What kind of
information?" Brecken asked; his eyes narrowed.

"You're one of the world's
greatest hackers, aren't you?"

The question took him by surprise.
"Yeah, so?"

"Then you shouldn't have any
trouble hacking into several government servers, would you?"

Brecken shrugged as if it was no big
deal, although he was beginning to feel an even greater alarm than he had felt
earlier. Hacking into government servers. That meant something big. Something
that wouldn't allow for witnesses to remain alive. Him or Heather. Maybe not
even Alyson.

While he had known his chances of
survival were slim, his ex-commander’s query left him with no doubt that once
the information was delivered, he, Alyson, and Heather would likely be killed.
He glanced at Alyson, knew that she had no idea what was happening. But why was
she here? That was the question that stayed in his mind. What had Alyson done?
What had she told or offered the Bolivian colonel? Or was it Williams? And what
kind of deal had she brokered with them?

"What has she got to do with
any of this?" Brecken finally asked, gesturing with his chin toward
Alyson.

"That's confidential
information," William smiled.

Once again, he felt the overwhelming
urge to punch the smile off his former captain's face. He shook his head.
"She's crazy," he said softly. "You know she is. She's unstable
and will turn on you faster than you can say ‘what the hell happened?’"

"I'm not worried about that
right now."

"What exactly is it that you
want, Williams?"

"I want the names of any and
all insurgent groups that attacked American troops in Iraq and
Afghanistan."

That took Brecken by surprise.
"Why?"

"Because I want my revenge. We
might not be able to find the men behind the orders, but we can always find
their families, their tribes. They need to pay."

He shook his head in disbelief.
What?
"Williams, we’re out of there
now. We were sent to do a job and we did it. You know as well as I do that in
combat, men are lost. Good men." He shook his head again. "You're
going after civilians? Women and children?" He glanced at the old members
of his team, men that he thought he had known very well. They had fought
together, bled together, and dealt with the cold, the heat, the lack of food
and water. Never in his life would he have thought that any of them would
target innocent civilians.

"You know what
jihad
means, don't you?" Williams
said softly. "You know what these perverters of Islam are, don't
you?"

Brecken stared at his old friend.
What the hell had happened to him? Was he off his rocker, too? He finally
nodded. "Anyone who doesn't convert to Islam and live according to what
they believe are the commands of Allah is considered infidels who deserve
nothing more than to be slaughtered and removed from the face of the
earth."

"Well, I consider anyone who
kills American soldiers to be an infidel. They deserve to die for perverting
their own religious leaders, their own religion. An eye for an eye.
Tooth-for-tooth. That's what our own good book says, doesn't it?"

Brecken made a face. "This
isn’t going to change anything. You know that, don't you? You know that it's
going to perpetuate the animosity, the divisions. In taking revenge on
civilians, you're going to put our troops that are still over there into
danger. You do know that don't you?"

"Save your bleeding heart
rhetoric for someone who cares," Williams said. He gestured toward one of
the ex-SEALs. "Bring the laptop." He looked at Brecken. "Sit
over there," he instructed.

Brecken looked behind him as the
Bolivian colonel pulled up a chair and set it in the middle of the room. This
wasn’t about revenge for insurgent attacks on American troops. That was too
easy. No, there was something else at play here. He just didn’t know what it
was. As he sat down, he glanced at Heather. He tried to give her a look,
something that would comfort her and get her to see that he wasn't doing this
of his own free will. He saw the look on her face, the look of loathing.

One of his ex-team members brought
over a laptop and a small tray like the kind he'd used as a child on a special
Saturday nights when he and his family sat in the living room, eating their
dinners on TV trays and watching special documentaries on television. He
glanced up at his old buddy, Marc, but his old friend refused to meet his gaze.
And well he should. At the moment, Brecken didn't know what he was going to do,
but he had to do something.

Heather remained where she was.
Brecken knew it was to remind him that he had something to lose. Regardless of
his protestations, Alyson had more than likely told Williams that he was fond
of his new employee. He glanced at Alyson and she smiled, placing her hand on
her abdomen as if to remind him. She made him sick. He glanced once more at
Heather and saw the expression of hurt in her eyes. The pain of betrayal. In
her eyes at this moment, he was nothing but a disgusting piece of shit, a
traitor. He wished he could tell her not to worry, but the truth was, they both
had something to worry about. If he didn’t find a way out of this, they were
both going to die and probably before the hour was up.