Point of Control (8 page)

C
HAPTER
15

Garrett watched Agent Bailey walk out the front door, disappointed that she didn’t glance back. So intense, so sexy. He’d never been so attracted to a woman so quickly. He’d always liked women who were older—the gorgeous grifter he’d fallen for in high school had been twenty-three to his sixteen—but Bailey was a new extreme. She had to be in her midthirties. Impulsively, he followed her out of the house. He’d overheard her say that his mother might live if she cooperated with her abductors. The agent knew who’d taken Dana.

Outside, the air was cold and damp, but he barely noticed. He glanced left into the darkness, expecting to see her walking toward the corner, where there might be an extra parking space, but no one was on the sidewalk. Footsteps thudded in the other direction. A heavy, fast-moving person. Garrett pivoted toward the sound. A half block away, a dark shape charged toward a woman on the sidewalk. She seemed to sense the attacker and spun around. In the faint glow of a nearby streetlight, he recognized Bailey. Before Garrett could think or call out, another man had come from behind a shrub and lunged at Bailey, pinning her arms behind her.

Garrett charged across the lawn toward the struggling bodies, not knowing what he would do. He remembered the gun-carrying agents in the house. He shouted for help as loud as he could. Both assailants looked up. The closer one brought up a gun.

Oh shit!
Garrett jumped behind a parked car. In midair he heard a shot ring out and felt a searing flare of pain in his arm. As he hit the ground, a second bullet slammed into the car with a crunch. He’d been hit! And they were still shooting!
Dear god.
He’d survived being struck by a speeding car, only to die here in the gutter in front of the house he’d grown up in.

Someone shouted, and the attacker loosened his grip. Bailey jerked both arms up, breaking his hold, then lunged for the grass to her right and rolled, finding her weapon as she came up on her knees. The sound of gunfire exploded. On the sidewalk, the man who’d charged at her from the street was firing at a shape diving behind a car a half block away.
Garrett?
She heard him cry out as he hit the street. She brought up her weapon and aimed at the shooter’s head, but as she pulled the trigger, a boot smashed into her ear. The blow knocked her sideways, and she knew she’d missed her target. Pain seared in her temple, enraging her.

Bailey pushed to her feet and spun toward her assailant, her weapon aimed at his torso six feet away. She pressed the trigger but nothing happened.
Shit!
Her Glock was jammed.

The man, who appeared to be unarmed, sprinted for the SUV. The sidewalk shooter had already reached the vehicle and was climbing into the driver’s seat. Bailey slid open the Glock’s chamber and reloaded the cartridge. The car’s engine roared as it took off. She brought up her weapon and fired at the back of the rig. The glass shattered, but the vehicle raced away. Where the hell was her car?

A door slammed shut. Dizzy and freaked out, Garrett stayed on the ground. An engine roared, and a big vehicle rushed toward him on the street. Garrett belly-crawled partway under the car he’d taken refuge behind. Bullets coming from several directions thunked into the back of the SUV as it raced down the street.

Holy hell!
This was crazy. He eased out from under the car and glanced at the back of his upper arm. Blood seeped from under the sleeve of his T-shirt. Seeing it made the pain real again. But it didn’t matter. All he could think about was Agent Bailey. Was she still alive?

Except for the voices on the porch, the night was suddenly quiet. No more guns. He clambered to his feet and hurried around the car. Bailey was running toward him on the sidewalk, blood oozing down the side of her face. Had she been shot in the head? “Do you need an ambulance?” he called out.

“No. I’m fine.” She sounded so calm. As she reached him, she stopped. “What about you? You’re bleeding.”

He rotated his arm at the shoulder. “I think it’s just a scrape.”

“Good. I’m going after them.” She took off running.

His father was suddenly there, a gun in his hand. “Everyone okay?”

Without bothering to answer, Garrett bolted down the sidewalk after Bailey, ignoring the pain and his distrust of the prosthesis. If she was going after the people who’d taken his mother, so was he. Her car had to be near the corner, as he’d expected.

Garrett caught up as she reached it. As she hopped into the driver’s seat, he charged toward the passenger door and climbed in just as she started the engine.

“No!” she yelled, without looking at him. “Get out.”

Garrett didn’t budge. “Let’s go! They’re getting away.”

“Oh hell.” She slammed the car into gear and gunned it into the street. “Did you see where they went?”

“No, but the only way out of this neighborhood headed this way is Queen Anne to Highland or Mercer.”

“Left or right?” she shouted.

“Right at the corner, then right again in two blocks.” He barely recognized his own voice, so he pulled air into his lungs, trying to calm his pounding heart. “We have to get them alive. If they die, we’ll never find my mother.”

“I know that, but the Seattle police don’t. I’m sure someone in the neighborhood reported the gunfire.”

Bailey still sounded calm, as if unaffected by her near-death experience, but Garrett’s mind was spinning, and his heart felt like it would burst through his chest. The thought of the cops chasing down these guys freaked him out. Cops operated in shoot-to-kill mode. God knew he wanted those bastards dead, but they might be the only link to his mother’s location.

Garrett glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see his father’s car behind them. But no headlights appeared. They were already racing through the neighborhood at a speed that terrified him, but he clenched his jaw and held on to the oh-shit bar. They had to get to the kidnappers before the police did.

Bailey loved the thrill of the physical chase! Lacking normal fear, she craved high-intensity situations, but rarely experienced them anymore. Adrenaline shot through her veins, making her body hum with pleasure. The young man in the car also excited her. She hated to admit it, but by following her and shouting for help, he might have saved her life. Knowing that only drew her to him more strongly. She would have expected the opposite effect. Intellectually, she understood the concept of gratitude—just as she understood empathy and regret—but she didn’t usually experience those emotions unless she focused and made herself feel them. Most of the time, there was no payoff, and her mind quickly turned to something else. But she was feeling something intense toward Garrett now.

She careened the car around the corner, tires squealing. Taillights appeared at an intersection in the distance.
Yes!
She had the shooters in sight.

“There they are!” Garrett shouted.

The SUV continued through the intersection and stayed in sight. Bailey floored it and raced after them, shooting past quiet homes on the dark street. The two men were obviously amateurs. If her gun had worked properly, the tall shooter would be dead, and the one who attacked her would be in custody, telling her where to find Dana Thorpe. Logic told her they were both hired hands. The mastermind behind the kidnapping-for-research scheme was some tech CEO who was unlikely to get his hands dirty unless he was pushed into a corner. But she was about to push him there. Even sooner than she’d expected.
Don’t let your ego get in your way.
Her father’s voice echoed in her head. He’d coached her from an early age about how to handle herself and not let her peculiar mind land her in jail or the morgue.

The SUV hit the next intersection and turned left without stopping. Still riding the accelerator and pushing the car to its limit in a short stretch of residential road, Bailey let off the gas to make the corner but didn’t brake.

Midway through the turn, the car skidded toward the curb.

“Oh shit!” Her passenger sounded terrified.

Bailey braked and held on to the steering wheel. She pulled out of the slide and gassed the engine again. “Don’t worry. I’ve practiced this.” She didn’t dare glance over at Garrett while driving this fast.

A sports car suddenly darted into her path from a side street. She either had to brake or go around it. Bailey did both. But the driver took her move as a sign of aggression or horseplay and sped up, keeping parallel with her.

Stupid idiot!
She honked and eased toward him.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Garrett shouted.

She didn’t have time to explain herself. She honked again, but the driver—probably young and drunk—didn’t let her pass. They were headed in a general downhill direction and gaining speed.

Her passenger grabbed her arm. “Slow down!”

Irritated, Bailey let off the gas and pulled back into the lane behind the sports car. At the next intersection, the driver stuck a hand out the window, flipped her off, and turned right. She slowed, realizing she’d lost sight of the SUV. “Did you see where they went?”

“No. I’m sorry. I was distracted for a minute.”

Instinct told her the unsubs had probably gone north, rather than toward the downtown area, so she turned left on the main artery along the lake front. Light traffic in both directions forced her to drive more carefully. Still, she passed the car in front as soon as she had an opportunity. The access to the water made her nervous. What if the assailants abandoned their vehicle and escaped by boat?

A police car with flashing lights drove toward them.

She glanced in her rearview mirror. More flashing lights behind her. An officer was trying to pull her over.
Oh hell.

“Look!” Garrett pointed at a short turnout along the lake, leading to an old boat ramp.

Without seeing what he was gesturing at, Bailey slowed and made the sudden turn. In the glow of a halide streetlight, she saw bubbles in the water at the end of the ramp. Something big had gone under.

“What if they pushed their car in the water?” Garrett asked.

“To change up the pursuit and get rid of any DNA.” Bailey finished his thought. Garrett was smart as well as sexy.

She stopped the car and turned off the engine. The police cruiser parked behind her, lights still flashing. Badge in hand, she climbed out, hoping she didn’t have to call her boss. She didn’t have time for this bullshit.

C
HAPTER
16

Thursday, March 19, 10:55 p.m., Mountain View, California

Shawn’s phone rang just as he was getting into bed. Harlan, finally! He hurried out to the hall to talk so Jia wouldn’t wake up. “Give me the update,” he demanded.

“It didn’t go well.” Harlan’s voice was shaky. “A guy came out of the house at the wrong moment, so we had to abandon the plan.”

Shawn hated obfuscation. “The agent’s still alive?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry.”

Damn!
“What about the guy who came out?”

“I may have hit him.”

Disappointment morphed into anger. “So you failed the mission and left an injured witness.”

“I’m sure it was too dark for him to get a good look at us. He just came out of nowhere and started shouting. It was unnerving, and I’ve never done anything like this before.” Harlan, who’d always been a scammer, had taken to the criminal enterprise with surprising gusto. The kidnappings had gone well, but Shawn assumed that was attributable to Rocky, who was obviously an old pro or Max wouldn’t have sent him.

Had Harlan fucked things up? As long as the criminal part never came back to him. He would just have to keep covering his own tracks as well as he could. “What about the stolen vehicle? Where did you leave it?”

“We pushed it into the water, then ran along the lake’s edge. FBI agents were after us, and cops were coming too, so we had no choice.” Harlan sounded a bit breathless just recounting the event.

“Was that Rocky’s idea?” He wondered if Rocky had a record. If so, he’d probably wanted to destroy his fingerprints and DNA.

“Yeah. We hopped on a bus, then stole an Explorer from a dealership. We’re in a hotel now, but we’ll drive Rocky’s Expedition back in the morning when we can blend into traffic.” Harlan chuckled. “We totally smoked ’em.”

“Except for getting rid of the agent,” Shawn reminded him. “Get back to the mine early and check on our guests.” Uncle Tai was keeping the researchers fed and supplied, but Tai was a simple man and needed some oversight. Rocky and Harlan needed their share of it too. But he trusted all three to never betray him, and that was most important. “I’ll fly up there in the morning. We have another job to plan.” Shawn had meant to leave the day before, but he’d had too many business issues to wrap up before taking an extended leave.

He went back into the bedroom and spotted his wife’s slender leg sticking out of the covers. The sight aroused him. He climbed into bed, snuggled up behind her, and grabbed her breasts. Jia never denied him sex, just as she rarely argued with him. That was why their relationship worked. She was brilliant, but pliable—a rare combination. Her mixed race worked well for him too. Full-blooded Chinese women reminded him of his mother, but white women didn’t sexually excite him, so Jia was the perfect blend. He hoped she never betrayed him or stood in his way. He loved her, but not enough to give up his dreams. He not only wanted to be rich beyond counting, but he wanted control too. He wanted powerful people—government officials, Hollywood executives, and especially the current tech kingpins—to come to him with their hands out.

The next morning, Shawn swam his usual laps, slipped on a thick terry-cloth robe, and pulled the cover over his pool. This would be his last swim for at least a few months. He hated the thought of leaving his sunny, luxurious Mountain View home for the small rural house in central Washington—in March—but it seemed critical. He had to monitor the scientists’ progress and push the manager at Palisades to ramp up production. Plus, the mine seemed like a safe, remote place to hide out until things wrapped up. It worried him that the FBI agent was in Seattle. Since Harlan and Rocky had failed to kill her, he might have to take care of the job himself. Another reason to head north.

Shawn looked around his half-acre property and reminded himself that he would be back. If it didn’t work out to come back here, he would sell this place and buy something better. Once he’d captured the cell phone market, he’d become a billionaire. But if he wanted to stay on top, he either had to develop or produce new manufacturing materials. The key to both was in the mining operation. He was already extracting gallium, indium, and yttrium. As soon as Thorpe finalized the dysprosium replacement, he would rush the formula to his manufacturing team in India, gear up production, and start shipping the new phones. ZoGo would be ramping up production and sales just as his competitors were giving up and closing down their facilities.

After securing the pool cover, he hurried inside and locked the back French doors. Their personal belongings were packed and loaded into their Escalade, and they’d leave soon. Jia would drop him off at the small airport where he’d arranged for a private flight, then she would drive their vehicle with their things. She hated to fly and refused to leave the car behind, and he couldn’t afford to spend a day and a half on the road.

Jia saw that he was still wearing only a towel and called from the kitchen, “Let’s get going before the traffic is bad.”

“I’ll be ready in five.”

Shawn dressed quickly and made one last latte, then they climbed into the car. “We could still hire a driver,” he said again as Jia settled in behind the wheel.

“I’m looking forward to a day or so away from my computer.” Jia turned to him. “Don’t worry. I’ll think about encryption while I’m on the road. It might be just the thing I need to inspire me.”

Shawn smiled and nodded, but he was no longer counting on her to produce a code that was secure enough to satisfy Max. A North Korean named Lee Nam had supposedly developed the best security algorithm out there—despite being shuttered away in that godforsaken country—and Kim Jong-un was sending him on a PR victory lap to trumpet how technologically advanced his country was. Lee Nam would be in Washington, DC, for a digital-security conference in the next few days, where he would, no doubt, pick up every security innovation he could before being sucked back into the black box. Shawn would send Harlan and Rocky to the conference to grab him. This abduction would be far riskier than the others, but Max wanted the encryption, so it had to be done to keep the money flowing. So far, they’d proven successful at kidnappings. It was the transporting and cleanup tasks that were obviously more challenging.

They pulled into the parking lot of the small airport, and the pink morning sky looked great for flying. Shawn’s phone rang, and he glanced at the ID:
Uncle Tai
. Why was he calling? More bad news. He could feel it coming. When they’d been young, Shawn had teased his older, not-very-bright uncle. But Tai was the one person who’d never judged him or expressed disappointment in him. Shawn had come to love the strange, slow-talking man and had given him work as a janitor since the day he’d founded his own company. When Shawn had asked Uncle Tai to do a special job for him in Washington, he had agreed out of gratitude.

Jia had stopped the car, so Shawn jumped out and walked a few feet away. “Uncle Tai. What’s going on with our guest?”

His uncle, a man who had to find and choose words carefully, spoke slowly. “Dana has a medical problem.”