HARD FAL (10 page)

Thankful for the SUV’s solid suspension that turned the collision into a series of severe bounces, she tapped the brakes and gingerly corrected her steering, wary of skidding into the concrete barrier. The rear fender scraped against the wall but she kept control, maneuvering the vehicle into the center of the wide paved path designed for bicyclists and pedestrians.

The motorcycle—June now clinging to her abductor, eyes wide with fear as he spun it fast and tight around the ramp’s final switchback—was about twenty yards in front of Lucy, heading straight for the river.

As soon as Lucy cleared the concrete walls, she saw the river and a motorboat waiting. Now it was a real race, the Forrester and the motorcycle approaching the boat from opposite sides of the landing. Lucy took the straightest path, aiming to intersect the motorcycle and block its route. With limited room to maneuver, she held her course despite the motorcyclist swerving away from the river, obviously trying to steer around her.

He was almost past her, close enough for her to hear June’s scream for help over the roar of the two vehicles, when she slammed the brakes, pulled up on the emergency brake, and wrenched the wheel, spinning the Forrester into a controlled skid. The vehicle pivoted, tires protesting, and came to a halt directly in front of the boat, forcing the motorcyclist to also brake hard.

Whoever was manning the boat—a man wearing a Steeler’s cap and dark parka—must have decided to cut his losses because even as the motorcyclist was backing his bike up, fighting for room to cut around the Subaru, the boat’s engine growled and it sped away.

Lucy flung open her driver’s door, aiming her weapon at the motorcyclist. Seth came sprinting down the steps from the plaza above, calling to June. Not exactly the kind of backup she’d hoped for.

“Stop!” Lucy shouted.

The motorcyclist’s face was invisible behind the dark shield of his helmet but his head jerked in what appeared to be a nod. He pushed June off the cycle, sending her sprawling to the pavement, twisted the bike’s handlebars, and roared off, heading down the trail. Lucy almost had a shot but Seth ran right into her line of fire. Thankfully her reflexes were good enough that she released the trigger in time.

“June, are you all right?” Seth fell to his knees beside June, his hands running over her arms, legs, belly, searching for injuries.

“I’m fine,” she gasped. “It all happened so fast.”

He pulled her into his arms. But kept his head raised, searching around them for any threat.

Lucy called the details into Pittsburgh law enforcement. “I got a fair look at the guy on the boat,” Lucy told the dispatch operator. “Early to mid fifties, Caucasian, brown hair, Steeler cap, sunglasses, black parka, jeans. Nothing distinguishing.”

“How about the boat?” he asked.

“One engine, it was good-sized, though.” She closed her eyes in thought. She’d approached the boat from behind, surely there was a name? “Name started with K-A-T. Wasn’t very long. One word. I couldn’t see the rest. Katrina, maybe?”

“We have several other callers from your incident. EMS is also en route. I’ll relay that the scene is safe for them to approach.”

Lucy hung up and assessed the situation.

“How’re Oshiro and Walden?” she asked Seth.

He glanced up the hill, panicked. “I’m not sure.”

Seth helped June up onto her feet. Her knees were scraped but no other apparent injuries. “We need to get her out of here. Now.” Urgency tightened his voice.

“I’m on it.” The Forrester wasn’t going to get them up the hill. She slung her bag over her chest, then took her cane and left the Subaru behind. As the three of them trudged up the steps, Lucy keeping her weapon close at hand and watching for any other attackers, she called Taylor. “Can I borrow your car?”

“Sure,” he answered absently. “Why not sign out a pool car?”

“Because they have GPS and paper trails and according to you, our guy is a poetic hacker. And someone just tried to grab June.”

“Wait, what? Where are you?”

“Plaza beside the
Hofbräuhaus
.”

“I’m on my way.”

She turned to June. “You’re sure you’re okay? Want to get checked out?”

“No.” June rubbed her belly. “She’s kicking a bit, but everything feels fine. I didn’t hit that hard, it wasn’t far to fall.”

“Maybe we should take you to a hospital,” Seth said, his arm circled around her, keeping her so close their bodies touched as if he could act as a human shield.

“No,” June repeated, more firmly. “He found me in a hospital before, remember?”

“How did they find us?” Seth asked, his gaze circling up and down the path.

“Wish I knew,” Lucy answered. “But I think we shouldn’t stick around here while we figure it out.”

They made it to the plaza at the top. Oshiro still lay at the curb, a group of bystanders gathered around trying to help. His face was smeared with blood, one eye puffed and swollen, the skin around it split, and his expression black with rage. Walden knelt on the pavement beside him, holding pressure on Oshiro’s arm but only using one hand.

“Son of a bitch,” Oshiro said, pushing up to one elbow, grimacing with pain. “June, are you okay?”

She smiled at him. “I’m fine, thanks to Lucy. I’m so sorry—”

He shook her words away. “No. I’m sorry. It’s my job to—”

Taylor arrived, screeching to the curb in his yellow MiniCooper, cutting short any more conversation. He jumped out, took in the scene. “Man, I miss all the fun.”

The more serious a situation, the more Taylor’s warped sense of humor appeared. Usually it was a good way to diffuse the tension, but Lucy had no time for it now.

“Keys,” she ordered. He dropped them into her hand. Seth was already helping June into the front seat. The car wasn’t as spacious as the Forrester or as inconspicuous as Lucy would have liked, but it was the best she could do on short notice.

“Is he going to be all right?” she asked Walden.

“Took a bullet to the arm.”

“I’m fine,” Oshiro protested. “Leave, go with June.”

Walden nodded. He let Taylor take over holding the pressure dressing and started to stand. His knees buckled and he landed on his butt. That’s when Lucy saw his left side: blood was streaming from his scalp and his left shoulder was definitely messed up, his arm hanging useless at his side.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she told him. “Taylor, see that they both get to the hospital,” she ordered when both Walden and Oshiro looked as if they might protest. “And that they don’t leave until they’re both checked out.”

She headed to Taylor’s car where June and Seth waited, Seth twisted around in his seat, his posture filled with urgency. If Lucy didn’t have the car keys, she was certain he would have sped off without waiting.

“Take good care of her,” Oshiro called as she limped around to the driver’s side. The ambulance pulled up, its siren drowning out any further conversation, so Lucy gave him a salute to indicate that she’d heard. Then she dropped into the low-slung car, her ankle protesting as she leaned weight onto it and adjusted the seat to a semi-comfortable position.

Full tank of gas, she noted. Only question was: where the hell to go?

Chapter 12

LUCY TURNED ONTO
Carson Street. “Where are you taking us?” Seth asked.

“Back to the Federal Building. You’ll be safe there.”

“No way. That’s where they followed us from. Too many eyes—anyone could have tipped them off.”

Paranoid. But with his wife and child on the line, she understood. Approved, even. It was that kind of thinking that might save him and June.

Instead of going straight toward the Federal Building, she turned left onto the Hot Metal Bridge. Best to make sure they weren’t followed before deciding on a destination.

“June, did you recognize either of the men?” she asked.

“No.” June stared out the window, her expression empty. Distancing herself from the emotions that came with almost being abducted or killed—Lucy had seen it in other victims. A good defense mechanism for the short term, but she knew Nick would argue that it was better to process trauma sooner rather than later.

“Walk me through it. What did you notice? The man’s age, body build, did he speak to you?”

June shuddered and remained silent. Seth leaned forward between the two seats. “Stop badgering her. The guy had a visor; there was no way to see his face. He could have been young or old, with all the padding from his jacket no way to know his build. Satisfied?”

Lucy tried another tactic. “You drove up from DC last night. Did you use your own vehicle? Any chance someone followed?”

“No and no,” Seth answered, sounding angry and more than a little frightened. “I asked a friend to rent a car for us. We met at a crowded bar where she slipped me the keys—we didn’t even talk. June left the apartment building through the service entrance and I picked her up in the alley. It was empty. There was no one watching us and no one followed.”

Lucy glanced away from the road long enough to meet his gaze. He was as confused as she was—he’d played it smart but not smart enough.

She dialed Taylor—the one person who might be smarter than their cyberpredators. “How’s Oshiro?”

“Took two bullets. One went through the muscles in his arm, the other hit the side of his vest.”

“Two?” She only heard one shot. Adrenalin did that, dampened sounds. “He was wearing a vest?” Of course he was—this was Oshiro they were talking about. Good thing, too.

“Are you kidding? He probably sleeps in one. Walden says they’re waiting for x-rays to see if he cracked a rib, but he’s already talking about leaving the hospital and coming back to work.”

Oshiro was a lot like her, the idea of lying on a bed in a hospital while others finished the job was intolerable. “And Walden?”

“Shoulder dislocated, gash on his head that needs stitches. He wanted to leave against medical advice, but I convinced him to stay and let the doctors finish.”

“Tell them we don’t need walking wounded. Tell them my orders are to stay put until the doctors clear them.” Oshiro wouldn’t care what she ordered—he was outside her chain of command. But Walden might listen. “Anything from witnesses? Maybe video?”

“The locals are asking but so far nothing useful.”

“Ideas on how they found June?” She put him on speaker and let Seth explain about the precautions he and June had taken on the way up from DC.

“What about passive surveillance?” Taylor’s voice came through the phone. “RFID chips are so small someone could plant one on your coat and you’d never know it was there.”

“Do they have the range needed?” Lucy asked.

“No. You’re right. But active RFID would—they’re slightly larger, need a power source. Or maybe someone planted code on their phones, activated the GPS?”

“Are you both carrying phones?”

“We have to for when if June goes into labor,” Seth answered for both of them. “But I picked up prepaid SIM cards on the way here and swapped out our old ones. Wouldn’t that take care of it?”

It was exactly what Lucy would have done, but… “Taylor?”

“This guy is good, boss. His hack with the medical records was like Mozart brilliant. I’d need the phones to analyze, see if he could have—”

“Toss ‘em,” Lucy commanded.

“No, boss,” Taylor interjected. “Don’t toss them—I might be able to get some good data off them. Put them on airplane mode or shut them off. Take the batteries out if you can. Seal them into a Faraday bag.”

Right, one of the special lined bags the cybertechs used to protect confiscated electronics. “Where the hell am I going to find a Faraday bag?”

“You’re in my car, remember? I’ve a stash in the back along with a kill box that will give you extra protection.”

She nodded to Seth in the rearview. He folded down the seat beside him and reached into the back, emerging with a silver-colored padded bag. June dropped her phone into it and so did Seth.

“Okay, their phones are secured. What else could they be using to track us?”

“GPS on the cars—a lot of rentals have them now, but Seth’s car is still here and you’re in my personal vehicle, so no worries there.”

“What else?”

“You’re probably good. Except for physical surveillance, of course.”

“There’s no one. And we’re not taking a direct route.”

“Can I ask, where are you going?”

She hesitated. Not because she didn’t trust Taylor but because, despite his assurances, she didn’t trust the technology. “I’ll call you when we get there.” She hung up.

Seth turned to her. “Then I’ll ask. Where are we going?”

Lucy grimaced. It hurt to even think about, the one place she’d been avoiding for fifty-nine days. “My mother’s house.”

The Girl Who Never Was: Memoirs of a Survivor

by June Unknown

You can Never go Home, but Sometimes Home comes to You

“IT’S BEEN FOUR
months and she still won’t speak,” Social Worker tells my New Doctor. We’re at New Doctor’s house which is all wide, bright windows overlooking a garden filled with color. It looks so peaceful out there, I want to walk barefoot in the grass. But, of course, I’m inside, sitting on the floor drawing pictures of the flowers, listening to the grownups talk about me above my head. They’re sipping coffee and sitting on comfy-looking chairs. So different than all the other doctors’ offices. “I’ve finally gotten her to wear clothes—you’d think she was an animal, running wild and naked.”