Ultimate Power (27 page)

She tried to swallow but her mouth was dry. "What does James have to do with all of this?"

Bruce shrugged, deep lines bracketing the side of his mouth. He looked tired, the stress taking its toll. He turned to Latorre. "Get me everything you can on James Rue."

Latorre nodded and hurried away.
 

"Where did they go?" Alexa asked.

"They sped out of here with the presidential vehicle."

"That shouldn't be too hard to track. Let's set up some roadblocks," Alexa said, clasping her hands beneath her chin, saying a silent prayer.

"Already done that," Bruce answered, casting Alexa a pained stare. "They dumped the car about three miles from here. They're gone."

Alexa broke into sobs. "What now?"
 

Bruce took her into his arms and hugged her. "We look for her. And we don’t give up hope."

20:25 PM
 

T minus 8 hours, 35 minutes

James Rue sauntered into the operations room, wiping his hands on a facecloth. “You better go talk to that brat, she’s driving me nuts.”

Allan Sonti frowned, looking up from the computer screens. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“She keeps saying her
mommy is going to come get me
, and that her
mommy is going to punish us
,” he said, his voice high, in a mock caricature of a small girl.

Sonti sighed. “James, please tell me that you’re able to handle a snotty child.” He pointed his chin at the computer screens. “I think I have more important issues to deal with at this moment in time.” He turned to face James with an angry glare. “Don’t you think so?”

James sulked, fidgeting with a cuff link. “What do you want me to do?”

Sonti jumped up, waving his arms in front of him. “Tape her fucken mouth shut. Think of something!”

The man’s eyes widened. “I can’t do that, she just a kid.”

Sonti bumped James out of the way and bustled past him. He returned a moment later holding a roll of duct tape. “Shit, do I need to do everything around here?”

He strode down the dinghy passageway, James in tow. He trotted down the stairway leading to the cellar. The little shit was sitting in a corner, whimpering like a little brat.
 

“My mommy’s going to get you,” she shouted, snot dripping, tears streaming down her face.

Sonti strode toward her. “Oh yes? Not before I get her first.” He pulled some tape from the roll and wrapped it around her mouth and the back of her head, not wasting time by taking her hair out of the way. He tore it off with his teeth and tossed the roll on the ground. He leaned over her. “Now shut up,” he shouted, wagging a finger at her.

He stomped up the stairs. James was waiting at the entrance to the basement. “You’re cruel, you know that?”

He slammed the door shut and locked it. “And you’re weak, James,” he spat, brushing past James.

James shuffled behind Sonti, trying to keep up. “What about Nicole? They’ll be looking for her.”

Sonti waved the question away, irritably. “We have no more use for her.” He checked his watch. “I need to work, go make some food or something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I am!” Sonti shouted. “Now go.”

James turned around and walked away mumbling, his hands in his pockets.

Sonti took his seat in front of the computer screens. He zoomed in on a satellite map of North America. Orange blips flickered on and off around the entire country.
 

Boy, did they have a thing coming.

CHAPTER SEVEN

23:55 PM
 

T minus 7 hours, 5 minutes

Yumi pulled the duct tape over her head. It stuck to her hair, but she managed to slip it off her face and pull it from her mouth. "Ow, ow," she moaned as she yanked it free.

She scanned the dark room. She was used to rooms like these, forced to live in one up to a couple of months ago by the bad doctor who had kept her locked away until mommy came to save her.

She surveyed the room. It was filled with rows and rows of shelves, stacked with canned food and blankets. On one of the walls someone had stuck newspaper clippings. Dotted everywhere between the clippings were photos of mommy, some of them black-and-white and some in color.

She pushed a bench to the small window and climbed up. It was dark outside.

Something else she was good at was escaping. She had escaped a sure death when they pushed her into the trash dumpster with all the other boys and girls and dumped them into the ocean. She wasn't afraid. Mommy told her she was the bravest girl in the world.

She hopped down from the bench and grabbed a large can with a picture of peaches on it from a shelf. She tossed the can at the window. It bounced off the window frame and cracked the glass, but the glass didn't break. It was difficult throwing something with your hands tied up, but she picked it up and hurled it over her head again.
 

The glass smashed and Yumi listened closely. A dog barked somewhere far away.

She used the glass that was still stuck to the window to cut the plastic zip tie around her wrist, smashed out all the remaining glass with the can and climbed through the window.

She scraped her legs, but she didn't cry. She closed her eyes and smelled the cool evening air. She was free.
 

She looked around. The house was old and dilapidated, it looked much uglier outside than inside. The grass around the property was long and unkempt, and further away stood a fence made from wooden poles. Beyond that was a dense and dark forest.

She stood up. She would go to the forest, she knew how to hide in a forest. She looked around, bewildered, as she smelled tobacco. She ducked behind a bush at the side of the house when she heard a man talk on a two-way radio.
 

He strolled right past her, not looking down. "Perimeter secure," he said on the radio.

She waited for him to be out of earshot before making a beeline for the forest. She scrambled beneath the pole fence and disappeared into the lush foliage.

She ran until her legs felt numb, stopping to suck in a couple of raspy breaths. Lights shone through the forest ahead of her. She stood still and listened. She heard cars. Lots and lots of cars.

She broke through the bush and walked straight into the road, holding up her arms.
 

She squinted as she heard tires shriek and the car swerved to avoid her, braking to a hard stop beside her.
 

A woman jumped out, waving her hands excitedly. "Oh, my God, that was close. What happened?" the woman asked, kneeling next to her, a concerned look on her face. "Are you okay, sweetie?"

"Phone my mommy."

The woman nodded. "Okay, okay." She fumbled in her pocket, her hands shaking. "What is her number?"

Yumi grabbed the phone, punched in the numbers her mommy had made her memorize. It was answered after a couple of rings. "Hello?"

"Mommy, it's Yumi."

02:45 PM
 

T minus 5 hours, 15 minutes

Alexa held back the sob. "Yumi, are you okay?" She waved excitedly at Neil.

"I'm alright, I escaped, like I did from the trash can. I wasn't scared or anything."

Neil walked closer, his head cocked to the side, a concerned look on his face.

Alexa sniffled, tears in her eyes. "That's good, baby. Who is with you?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"A lady who stopped for me."

Alexa closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. She choked back a sob and took a deep breath. "Okay, baby. Let me talk to her please."

A slight pause.

"Hello?" a female voice said.

"Hi, thank you so much for stopping for my daughter. Where are you?"

The woman hesitated. "Look, maybe it's not such a good idea that you see her right now. Maybe we should meet at the police station."

Alexa stomped her foot. "I am the goddamn police, lady. Tell me where my child is."
 

The woman hesitated.

Alexa closed her eyes, trying to calm down. "Sorry, what is your name?"

"Maricke," the woman said hesitantly.

"Look, Maricke. My daughter was kidnapped and she managed to escape."

"Okay."

"I've been worried sick. Tell me where the hell you are or I'll arrest you for obstructing justice."

The phone went silent and Alexa heard the woman talk to Yumi. "She's not saying anything."

"Look, you're wasting precious time. Ask her in English."

A quick conversation ensued.

"Okay, she says you're a policeman. I'm on the A3 heading east."

Alexa nodded and followed Neil to the car. "Okay, get out of there. Someone could have followed her. Meet me at the Hotel Paris Est," she said and checked her watch. "I'll be there in thirty minutes."

"Okay," the woman said, sounding worried.

03:20 PM
 

T minus 4 hours, 40 minutes

Neil broke to a hard stop in the hotel parking lot and switched off the sirens and the flashing warning lights on the roof. Alexa yanked open the door and rushed to Yumi, who stood, with her thumb in her mouth, holding on to a young woman's hand.

When she saw Alexa, Yumi pulled free and rushed to Alexa, jumping into her outstretched arms, flinging her arms around Alexa's neck. Alexa hugged her tightly, sobbing, stroking Yumi's hair.
 

Neil marched closer, carrying an emergency kit. "Let's take a look at these cuts, Yumi."

Alexa put her down and she bolted to Neil, hugging him. "I wasn't scared," she said as Neil dabbed at the scratches with cotton wool and disinfectant.

"We'll need to get her to a doctor. It doesn't look serious but I don't want to take any chances," Neil said.

Alexa nodded and strolled to the woman who was standing, hugging her arms, an uncertain smile on her lips. Alexa embraced the woman. "Thank you so much."

The woman nodded. "You really a cop?"

Alexa took out her badge and showed it to the woman. "Captain Alexa Guerra," Interpol, she said, her voice breaking. "Could you show me where you found her?"

The woman pursed her lips, then nodded. "Follow me."

James Rue balanced the plate of cookies on the glass of milk, struggling to unlock the basement door. He placed it on the ground and unlocked the door, swinging it open.

Sonti was acting strange, like he always did before these operations. He had that glazed doughnut look in his eyes, like that delirious mouse from Pinky and the Brain. "So what are we going to do tonight, little brother?" he whispered. "The same thing we do every night, James. Try to take over the world!"

James chuckled and picked up the milk and cookies. His brother was ambitious, like his dad had been. James guessed he was more like his mother. She hated conflict.

"I have a surprise for you, little girl," he called out merrily.

He trotted down the stairs and scanned the room, his eyes adjusting to the dark.
 

Shit
.

"Sonti, I think we have a problem," he shouted up the stairs.

Interpol Headquarters,

Paris, France.

05:30 PM
 

T minus 2 hours, 30 minutes

Bruce stood in front of the room, his back to Laiveaux, studying the satellite image projected against the wall. "We're seeing sporadic movement at all the major borders, missile carriers."

"Where?" Laiveaux asked.

"South Africa, Japan, Mexico, South Korea."

"What type of missiles?"

"Short range surface to surface, two hundred miles or less." He turned around and scratched his chin. "G5's, MGM-140's."
 

Laiveaux studied the map. "How many?"

"A hundred. Maybe more?" Bruce cast Laiveaux a sidelong glance. "Makes no sense."

"Worldwide?"

Bruce nodded as he slumped into a chair. "As far as I can see."

Henrie Dumas waved his hand. "That's nothing. What? Is Sonti going to blow up the local town hall? What damage could a G5 cannon cause in terms of catastrophic loss of life?"

Bruce drummed the table, staring at the projected image. "Not much, I guess."

Dumas pushed a button on the remote and the satellite image disappeared. "We have bigger problems, Laiveaux."

Laiveaux rolled his wheelchair to the table. "Give me that," he said irritably, pointing at the remote. He switched the satellite image back on. "What if they were targeting specific facilities?"

"Like what?" Bruce asked, sitting up in his chair.

"I don't know," Laiveaux said, scratching his chin. "Get me a list of facilities within a ten mile radius of the weaponry's positions."

"That will take some time," Dumas said.