Guarding the Treasure (27 page)

Smith turned, directing his full attention to his FBI friend. “I don't trust him, and there's something about his girlfriend. I don't know what it is, but when I'm around her, there's— I just don't trust her.”

A deep laugh rolled out from Gipson's throat. “Come on, Smith, don't worry. She's harmless. We'll just have to keep enough drugs in her that she'll have no choice but to cooperate.”

Gipson leaned over the balcony once more, watching Sophie at a table on the far end of the room, “And as for my friend in the states? He's a hothead. A good agent, but he has a hard time keeping everything in check.” Gipson took another drink and pointed toward the far table. “Smith, I want her later,” he said, drawing once more from his bottle.

The professor looked down at his watch. “She'll get her Actsford at nine.”

“Good, I'll give her a little visit about that time.”

“Where do you want her?”

“I'll get her from her room. I think we'll take a little walk,” he said, grinning as he tapped the side of his bottle. “Can you make sure our boys know that I'll be out and about later?”

“Not a problem,” Smith said marked pleasure in his voice.

 

Sophie was escorted to a nicely set table. The entire dining room was nice—no, it was beautiful. Soft beige and blue on the walls with long, dark blue drapes on the windows. One of the nicest places she'd been in the castle. She turned to the two women at the table. They didn't notice her. Their heads were down, focused on their plates. Sophie noticed both women wore copper bracelets like hers, except one had a blue gem about the size of a nickel and the other a red one of the same size. She looked at her wrist—the stone in her bracelet was red.

She quickly glanced around the dining room again. Her instructions had been not to talk during dinner. None of the women were allowed to talk to each other. There were things she wanted to know, things she had to find out—she had to risk it. She surveyed the staff. They were performing their duties, paying little attention to the tables. Sophie turned and looked into the face of an attractive forty-something woman across the table from her. She was stunned by the woman's eyes, the deepest emerald green Sophie could imagine. But something was missing. Her eyes had no life, only an empty stare. She seemed totally unaware of her surroundings.

Sophie cleared her throat. “Hi,” she said quietly, looking to her left then back again.

The woman's eyes shifted, stared, and then moved back to her plate. “Hi,” she said from between pressed lips.

Sophie leaned over the table. “How long have you lived here?” she whispered.

The woman sat, not saying a word, the now familiar blank stare pasted again on her. She shifted in her chair and then glanced to her right. Sophie followed her eyes and saw a guard entering the room. The woman lowered her head, taking a bite of pasta. Sophie did the same, chewing slowly until the guard made his rounds and left the room again.

“Can you tell me how long you've been at the Regal?” she whispered again.

The woman hesitated. “I'm not sure,” came softly from her lips.

Sophie sensed she was telling the truth, and judging by her body language, it had not been an enjoyable stay.

“Why are you here?” she asked, still probing for answers.

The woman looked around once again, keeping her head low. “I'm not sure of that, either. All I know is I responded to an offer posted on a website for history fans, and the next thing I knew, my trip to Ireland landed me here.”

Sophie sat back in her chair. “Professor Smith.”

The woman raised her head, her eyes widening. “What did you just say?” she asked, now leaning on the table.

“Professor Smith. Do you know him?”

“He's the one who was looking at my historical documents. He's—” She stopped. A man in scrubs was walking toward their table.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said, touching Sophie's neck. “I see the two of you have become acquainted. I would like to know what you've been whispering about.” His fingers tightened to a firm pinch.

The woman slowly raised her head, gazing at Sophie.

Sophie turned her head quickly to break his hold. “We were commenting on the pasta,” she said softly with a smile, hoping to sound convincing.

The tall, well-built man leaned in close. His smile was perfect, along with his tanned and bulging arms. A perfect specimen of a jerk if she'd ever seen one, she thought, feeling his hot breath on her face.

“Don't be offended, but I don't believe you,” he said, a smirk crossing his lips.

Sophie squeezed her hands together, trying to stop herself from slapping the smirk right off his face. Then the words
“Be submissive,”
sounded in her mind. “Three,” she breathed. Sophie looked past the attendant, not making a sound.

“It doesn't matter. You're going to be spending the evening with Mr. Gipson.” He pulled her chair from the table. “Get up,” he said, firmly gripping her arm. The smirk had faded. “I need to get you ready.”

Sophie felt her stomach drop. “No, not with him again,” she whispered.

“What good am I to you if you don't let me help you? Sophie, don't forget I am with you through whatever happens. Allow me to work.”

“Three, you know what he's going to do to me,” she whispered to the sound in her head.

“I know what his intent is, dear one.”

“Keep him from me. Please, Three.”

“I'll come for you in twenty minutes, Ms. Hanes,” the man said, standing by the door. Be out of the bathtub and ready to get dressed when I return.”

Sophie stood, trying to read the man's eyes. They wanted her to resist, to say refuse to do as he said. She bit her lip, turned, and began to undress. He stood and watched as she got into the tub. She closed her eyes, wanting to be sick but resisting the urge to give in.

Sophie was wrapped in a towel when the man in scrubs returned with her clothes.

“I've picked this out for you.” He handed her a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “Put them on.”

She waited for him to leave, but he didn't move. “Can you turn around?” she asked.

He flashed his second jerk grin of the evening. “No, I think I'll watch. You lied to me earlier, so you can't be trusted. Get dressed.”

She dropped her towel to the floor, feeling his eyes skimming her naked body. She pulled the jeans on and slipped the shirt over her head.

He opened the door.
What next?
she thought, walking through a series of rooms and narrow halls.

“You need to wait here,” the man said, opening the door to a small room. Sophie recognized it. It was the room she had been in earlier. She sat on the bed and felt a sudden sting on her wrist. “What in the world was that?” She looked at the skin just under the red jewel. Her skin had boiled up around a red prick mark.

She put her fingers to her temples. Her head started to feel light, like the night she and Kevin drank that bottle of wine. She smiled. “Kevin,” she said, her tongue starting to feel thick. “I wish you knew where I was. I wish you could help me,” she whispered.

“He will Sophie,”
came a gentle wind in her ears.

“Three, you're here?”

“I have been with you all evening. I will be with you the rest of the evening as well.”

 

“I think we've got something here, Gates,” said Taylor, looking at his wrist camera. “Do you see what I see, Commander?”

“Copy that, Taylor. Do the rest of you see the images in the rooms on the west wall?”

“Copy that,” was heard unanimously from all teams.

“Good, we need ears turned on.”

“Ears are on and working sir,” the voice of his technical advisor echoed.

“All right, now I want each team listening for clues as to who these people are, and remember, check their wrists for copper bracelets. If they're wearing a bracelet, we need to know the color of the jewels.”

“Copy that.”

Gates touched his partner's arm. “Taylor, did you hear that?”

“Yeah, Gates, it was a woman's voice, coming from the first room. She's talking to someone.”

“That can't be—there's only one image in the room.”

“I see that, but there are two voices.” Taylor moved to see the picture more clearly. “Kevin, there's only one. Maybe she's hallucinating—she's probably drugged.”

The door to the room they were monitoring suddenly opened.

 

A hand gripped her wrist, pulling her to her feet. Sophie could hear a man's voice but couldn't focus on his face. They walked through an outer door. The air was crisp but felt good as it struck her face. She looked up—the moon was bright, but not bright enough for her to make out who was dragging her behind him. They stopped.

Hot words hit her ear. “Are you seeing double, Ms. Hanes?” He laughed.

She struggled once more, squinting hard to make out the man's face. Her eyes wouldn't focus, but the voice, she knew the voice.
Think Sophie
. Then it hit her—it was Gipson. He was the man she had been with before. Sick. She had gotten sick. She tried to shake her head. It didn't move. Why was her mind registering at a snail's pace? What was happening to her sense of reasoning, and where was he taking her?

He leaned once more to her ear. “Let's take a little walk, Sophie,” he said, giving her arm a hard jerk.

She felt her legs stiffen and then move with his persistent pull to her arm. Her mind moved, too, with each step into a deep, dense, frightening fog.

 

“Commander, we have a visual on two people—a man and a woman just leaving the building from a northeast door.”

“Put a team on them but keep your distance. We don't want anyone to know we're here just yet.”

“Copy that, sir. They're proceeding northwest around the building. Losing visual, sir.”

“We've got them, Commander,” Gates said, night vision goggles to his eyes. “No,” he whispered.

“What do you have, Gates? Gates, do you still have a visual?”

“Ah yeah, Commander, I have a visual.”

“Good, we need to find out if the woman is one of the four we're looking for. I know it's difficult, maybe impossible, but can you see the jewels in the bracelet?”

“Let me check,” he said as he lowered the glasses. There it was on her left wrist. He could also see the grip the man had on Sophie. A fire started to burn in his gut as he tried to make a positive ID on the man. It was Gipson. Kevin knew what he was up to and also knew he had to stop him before Sophie became another one of his victims.

“Gates, do you have anything?”

“Yes, Commander, I can see that she has a bracelet, but I can't be sure of the jewels.”

The communication went quiet for a few seconds. “We are going to assume she is one of our women, gentlemen. Do not attempt to rescue. Your job is to maintain visual contact. We need to locate the others before we intercept. Is that clear to all teams?”

“Copy that, Commander,” came from each duo.

“Team two; I want you to follow the man and woman. Stay in touch with the command post. You are now in alert mode. Got that, Taylor?”

Kevin grabbed the coat of his team leader, pulling him right into his line of vision. “No, Taylor, I think we need to follow the two in the yard.”

“What are you doing, Gates?” Taylor said, pushing him back. “Get your hands off me.”

Kevin stepped aside, and Taylor stepped in, nose to nose. His pupils were dilated, and his fists ready for action.

“Are you crazy, Gates?”

Kevin looked away and then back at his partner, “Taylor, that woman is Sophie, and it's Gipson who's got her.”

Taylor changed the channel on his radio so no one could hear. “Are you serious, Gates?”

“Dead serious. It's Sophie, all right, and Gipson had a hard grip on her left arm. Listen, I know Gipson better than anyone, and he has a sick obsession with beautiful women.” Kevin rubbed his face. “He likes to hurt them before he—” Kevin stopped and focused hard on Taylor's eyes. “Before he rapes them.”

Taylor looked toward the yard. “If she's been drugged, she doesn't stand a chance against what he's going to do.”

Kevin looked into the eyes of his team leader. “I need to be there for her.”

Taylor took a deep breath and exhaled. “You American guys are hard to understand sometimes,” he said with a laugh. “Follow my lead, Gates.”

He readjusted his radio. “Men, there's been a change of plans. I want you two to stay and get a positive ID on the jewels on those bracelets of the women inside. Gates and I are going to follow the two in the yard. Men, we need to work fast. There's a strong possibility that the woman we saw with the man in the yard may be one of our victims. Remember, the commander said we rescue concurrently, so that means we all need to see red.”

“Copy that, Taylor, we'll monitor with ears and become more aggressive in detecting the color of those jewels.”

“We'll stay in touch by radio.” Taylor looked at Gates, “You ready?”

“Let's do this,” he said, following Taylor north to a line of trees.

 

“I need to stop,” Sophie said, struggling to put one foot in front of the other.

The grip on her arm moved to her throat. “You'll stop when I say.” The man's breath felt on her like the fire of a dragon.

She looked through blurred eyes into Gipson's contorted face. His eyes were a glassy red, and he reeked with the smell of liquor. Her mind raced back to the diary and the description of those who had abused Anya. “No, please don't,” she said, almost collapsing. Calmness came gently to her body. It was Three—she could sense him. “No, don't do this,” she said, still looking into Gipson's bloodshot eyes.