Blood Money (15 page)

Mark keyed in a set of numbers and was immediately connected to his home computer, just as though he was sitting at his desk. He felt more comfortable doing it that way, rather than spending time getting acquainted with the FBI operating system. This way, he had all the information he needed stored in his computer. Once connected, he accessed a special file that enabled him to locate real estate records based on tax receipts

Mark's work required that he access multiple sectors so he had set up special files to save him time with the searches. He keyed in NRBA and came up with twenty-two listings. He wondered why the National Rare Blood Association would be paying taxes on so many buildings in the Cleveland area. Could they all be real estate investments? He had to find a way to select the buildings that were occupied from those that might be vacant. There were too many variables to be too selective. What he needed was a way to cut the list down, but he couldn't figure out exactly how to do it. He took a deep breath. It was time to approach things unemotionally, if that was at all possible. He needed to think logically. Susan's life could very well be hanging in the balance.

CHAPTER 22

At exactly ten in the morning, Denver time, the NRBA home office and thirteen laboratories were raided and shut down. Simultaneously, all of their bank accounts and in-process financial transactions were frozen. Hundreds of Special Agents from all over the country swarmed into the Association's facilities to seize computer files and records, and to begin the lengthy process of interrogating the thousands of employees. Several board members and other high-ranking officers were arrested and taken into custody. Among those questioned early and then released was Mel Tarkington, Portman's assistant. He was warned not to leave town.

The scope of the subpoenas was broad enough to guarantee that the government would have sufficient evidence to completely cut off the flow of funds to the list of the raids and began immediately to initiate their own widespread investigations. The NRBAssociation would no longer launder money to any terrorist organizations.

CHAPTER 23

Maintaining consciousness was becoming a problem. Susan had awakened several times, but the drug that she had been given was still circulating in her bloodstream and it was strong enough to send her back into a light stupor. This time, her senses started to kick in. Sue fought to get an understanding of what was happening to her. She could feel something beneath her that felt like a mattress. It had a very strong musty smell. Then she felt a pain in the left side of her head. She used whatever clarity she had to make a quick appraisal of her situation. She vaguely remembered that two men had come to her front door saying that they were detectives. They had pushed their way into her condo and one of them had hit her with something. She squirmed slightly, testing the duct tape that bound her hands and legs. She murmured something through the tape gag and that got Dick Schaeffer's attention.

“So, Ms. Harrigan, you've finally come out of it. I hope you got a good rest. It will be the last that you will have for a little while.”

She didn't recognize the voice, and certainly didn't like the tone of it. All she could do for now was listen. Sensory deprivation had been covered in her FBI training, but no amount of training prepares a trainee for the real thing.

He continued, “I want you to listen very carefully, because I am only going to say this once. We are going to have a visitor in about an hour. He has some questions he wants to ask you. If you tell him what he wants to hear, you'll leave here in one piece. If you don't cooperate, I have two friends with me that can be very persuasive. You've already had a brief encounter with them back at your condo. You really don't want to have another. Whichever way you choose to play it, I can assure you, you will talk. I'm going to remove the gag from your mouth, now. I don't want to hear a single word from you. It won't do you any good to scream, there's nobody around to hear if you do. I am going to put a water bottle up to your lips and I want you to take a few sips. Take it slow or you'll choke on it. Do you understand?”

Susan nodded. She was lifted up to a sitting position. Dick removed the tape and sock from her mouth. Sue heard the seal on the water bottle snap and felt the rim of the bottle against her lips. She took several small mouthfuls before Dick removed the bottle, reapplied the gag and lowered her back to the mattress. She could hear footsteps moving away and heard a door close.

Sue had taken a class in survival tactics, but hadn't paid much attention. After all, she was going to be a desk jockey; another computer nerd for the Federal Government. Now, she could only remember a few points. She thought that number one was not to say or do anything that would antagonize the captors. Try to remain calm. Then there was something about being observant about where you're being held, such as any environmental sounds like traffic, machinery, running water or airplanes. Sue wondered if a smelly mattress qualified. Oh, yes, and of course, always try to escape. That's one that seemed a little remote at the moment. Right now she just needed to concentrate on staying alive. She tried to raise herself from the mattress. Her head began to spin.
Be strong,
she said to herself, but it was already too late. Everything suddenly went black again.

When Susan regained consciousness, the duct tape across her eyes and mouth stung. Her hands felt numb where they were tightly bound behind her back. She could feel a mattress beneath her; could smell the foul musty odor. Two people walked into the room, a third followed rolling something heavy. They approached the mattress. Hands suddenly grabbed her, holding Sue's shoulders as her clothes were cut off and pulled from beneath her. The coolness of the room caused goose bumps to rise as her body was exposed. She twisted her body in protest, but was ignored. When they finished stripping her, she was picked up and carried to a straight back chair. With her arms already taped behind her, they lifted Susan and slid them over the back of the chair, locking her in place. The wooden chair felt icily cold against her bare skin, causing her to shudder. Her ankles were taped to the front chair legs, spreading her legs apart.

“That should do it,” one of them said. It was a man's voice, one she did not recognize.

Still another voice spoke. “Ms. Harrigan, let me tell you what this is all about. Simply said, you are here to provide information. To help you do that, I'm going to connect you to a machine that will send an electrical current through your body. Just a few mild jolts at first; nothing you can't handle. Then I will slowly increase the setting, a little at a time. The idea is to give you a slight taste of what to expect. It won't be anywhere near where I'm prepared to go if you don‘t cooperate. I've made grown men cry like little babies, begging for me to stop, so don't think of being heroic. You cannot win against my machine. Mind you, I don't enjoy doing this. I don't want to hurt you. I'm just doing my job.”

Susan mouthed “Nazi,” but the tape stifled the word.

Ignoring her protestation, he continued, “Now for the specifics. When I am finished prepping you, my boss will arrive. He wants to ask you a few questions. If he is satisfied with your answers, I'll roll my equipment out of here and our little session will be over. On the other hand, if you don't answer his questions satisfactorily, I will have no choice but to take things to the higher level. Trust me when I say you don't want to go there. He will be the one calling the shots, so think very carefully before you answer his questions. Is that understood?” He waited for some sign of recognition. When he saw none, he grabbed her hair, yanked her head back and repeated the question, “Understood?”

This time Susan nodded her head.

“That's better. It will go a lot easier on you if you cooperate. You're going to get hurt real bad if you don't. Eventually, you will talk, so I suggest you make the right choice by telling him what he wants to know up front.”

Electrodes were connected to her upper arms and forehead. As this was being done, the men took advantage of the opportunity to brush their hands against her erect nipples. She cringed at each touch, unaware of the boyish grins on their faces.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She braced herself as the current hit. It was brief and mild as he said it would be. It felt like a shock that one might get from a faulty lamp or appliance. The second jolt was identical to the first.
So far, so good.

“Those were just tests,” he said. “The next one will be the real thing. Keep in mind, also, that I may move the electrodes around as we progress. That means that no surface or orifice is off limits to me once I get started, if you catch my drift.”

Susan understood exactly what he was saying. She shuddered at the thought. He deliberately delayed the next jolt, adding to her anticipation. “Okay, here we go.”

Again, a delay. Then, suddenly, the current hit. It was much stronger than she expected. As the electricity coursed through her body, Susan Harrigan lost consciousness.

*

Susan awoke to the sound of voices. She immediately realized that she had been dreaming. She heard footsteps moving toward her.

“So, you are back again, Ms. Harrigan.”

This time, Susan recognized the voice. It was John Portman's. She would know it anywhere. She squirmed and uttered a muffled sound.

“Calm down Susan, you'll have plenty of time to talk later. First, let me tell you what is going on. You are being held in an abandoned warehouse in Cleveland. No one knows you are here except the four of us. No one is going to come charging in here to rescue you. The only way you are going leave here alive is to cooperate with me by telling me what I want to know. No more fooling around. If you won't cooperate, you are going to die in this desolate building. Susan, I don't want to have to kill you. You have my word that if you tell me what I want to know, you will go free.”

Portman watched her for any signs of recognition. There were none. He moved forward to remove the tape from her eyes. He grabbed the end and ripped it off. She winced as the adhesive reluctantly gave up its hold.

Susan blinked her eyes a few times. She immediately focused on Portman, totally oblivious to the other three men present in the room. Her eyes were wide with fear and hate. “John, what on earth are you doing?”

Portman just smiled. “You know precisely why you're here. You could have avoided this. Yesterday I gave you a chance to be reasonable; to work with me in a nice way. Instead, you threw me out of your office. That was not very hospitable, Susan. You really hurt my feelings.” Again, he smiled. “Well, to show you that I can be forgiving, I'm going to give you another chance. I'm willing to let bygones be bygones. He stopped talking for a minute to see if he was getting through to her. “I see distrust in your eyes. No doubt, you are thinking that I can't possibly free you because you would go right to the police.”

She nodded her head.

“Well, I'd be thinking the same thing if I were in your place. So, while you were sleeping, I got us both an insurance policy. You're going to love this. He reached into a bag he was carrying and took out the Polaroid pictures. They showed a man lying on a bed with a bullet hole in his forehead. The bed sheets were covered with blood. He showed the picture to Susan.

She drew back in disgust.

“In spite of all the blood and half of his face being blown away, I can tell that you recognize the man in the picture as your co-conspirator, Roland Phoebes.” Then he reached into the bag again and took out a gun. “I have no doubt that you will recognize this, also. I removed it from your car trunk last night. What's a nice innocent girl like you doing with a big gun like this?” He put the barrel by her nose. “Do you smell that? It's been fired recently. In fact, it happens to be the very gun I used last night on Mr. Phoebes. You may also recognize some personal items from your house in these pictures. They were planted in the bedroom of his apartment. If I didn't know otherwise, I would think that you two were lovers and that you had a falling out.”

Susan's eyes opened wide in shock. When she closed them, tears ran down her cheeks.
Poor Roland, he was such a kind-hearted man. He even called to warn me about Portman. Why didn't I realize the danger? He's dead because of me.

“So you see, I've given myself an insurance policy. I have nothing to fear by releasing you. I know you won't talk to the police, because if you do they will get an anonymous package with your gun in it, along with the pictures. I think you would have a hard time explaining how your personal stuff and your gun are connected to a cold-blooded murder. The police see this sort of thing happening all the time around here. Lovers argue, and maybe the guy gets abusive and he gets popped. They would believe that before they would believe that a perfect stranger, such as I, would commit a cold-blooded murder. Maybe we'll even slap you around a bit before we release you to prove your complicity. That pale Irish skin of yours should bruise up real nice. I think the boy's would like that.

Smiles appeared on the faces of the two goons. They were thinking maybe they would have a shot at her after all. Why stop at just beating her up? Neither had ever been with anyone as beautiful as Susan

“As you can see, Susan, you have nothing to lose by cooperating, and everything to gain. You will get to live.”

“May I please have some water?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said. He unscrewed the cap and let her take a few sips.

“John, please, this is all a terrible mistake. I don't have any idea what happened to your computer files. I told you that at my office.”

“Oh, but Ms. Harrigan, we both know that is not true. Phoebes didn't know anything either, and look how he ended up. You'll stop this charade if you know what's good for you. You are trying my patience. If you continue to play games with me, you will meet the same fate he did.”

“You're crazy. You can't go around killing people over a computer file. That's insane. Do you want me to make something up? Let me go before this gets out of hand. As you said, I can't very well go to the police.”

“Now you are insulting my intelligence. I've had enough of your games, Ms. Harrigan. You either tell me right now, or my men will make you talk. It is totally up to you. In a way, I am kind of hoping that you keep up this little game of yours. I've never seen these boys in action, but I hear that they're the best at what they do, and when we're finished, I may just let them have their way with you.”

“I can't tell you what I don't know,” Susan insisted.

“Very well, then, we'll do it the hard way. Dick and his friends have a surprise for you. He turned to the others and motioned for them to leave the room with him. “We'll be right back,” he said. Then with a smirk, he added, “Don't you go anywhere, now.”

Susan knew she had only a few minutes to think. Apparently Portman had missed her ID and shield, which she kept hidden in the trunk of her car inside the car instruction manual. It probably wouldn't make any difference if he knew she was a Federal Agent. It might even complicate the situation. Right now he was only concerned with the disbursement file. That was a probably a plus. Sue had a flashback to one of her classes, where they discussed how to deal with captors…but that was when somebody else was being held captive. It is entirely different when you are the one being held. She knew that she had to stall for time. If Roland's body was found any time soon, there would be a connection to Cybernetic Solutions. Mark and Dennis were both probably looking for her now. They were certain to connect her disappearance with Portman. If he made a mistake and used a traceable phone, or if they could trace him to wherever he was staying, it might lead them right there, wherever there was.

She thought about how much pain she could take before telling everything.
First, I'll deny again that I know anything. Then I'll give up Roland. I can make up anything about him now, they have no way of proving it.
As a last resort, I'll tell them about Thurston. I'll tell them that he was Roland's client. That's it. I can't involve anyone else, not with this maniac on the loose.
Sue prayed for enough strength to endure what was to follow. Would they use electricity, as they did in her dream? Hopefully she would pass out if the pain got too unbearable. They could torture her, but she was certain that they wouldn't kill her. At least not deliberately.