Taken For Granted, page 18
Aiden piped up, “We can be of use, I swear.”
Kris turned to Officer Thompson. “They did create a pretty good diversion that got me inside, although—”
Kris stepped forward, grabbed Aiden by the collar and pulled him into the bars. He whispered in his ear the merits of doing as he was told and not risking his life by getting out of the boat to pee. When he mentioned that guns were aimed at him in the pitch dark and he didn’t even know it, Aiden’s face turned white. Kris released his shirt.
That should do it.
Then, turning to Officer Thompson, Kris continued. “I know that two wrongs don’t make a right and Archie and Ethan are responsible for their own actions, but at this juncture, I’m willing to bet that I’m going to need more hands to get inside the new place. They knew I was there. It’s why they moved the operation. I’ll take full responsibility for these two like they’re my own.”
Officer Thompson watched Kris curiously, then eyeballed the boys without a word as if she were mulling it over in her mind. She nodded her head slightly, unlocked the cell, then reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her wad of keys, rifling through until she found the brand new set. Her wide fingers went to work releasing them from the rest of the keys and when they were free, her smiled erupted as she held them out for Kris to take.
Kris’s eyes widened. “The new one? The blacked out Tahoe…delivered yesterday…really?” To his own ears, his voice sounded like a three-year-old meeting Santa. When she nodded, he said, “Driving a vehicle bought with bribe money to save them. If that ain’t perfect.”
“You’re gonna need something fast and unrecognizable and that has extra seats when you bring those ladies back.”
Just as he reached for the keys she pulled them back.
“You are gonna save them all, right?”
Kris looked her straight in the eye. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Thirty
Norman stood back and watched in awe. From the moment they’d landed, Petra moved and darted and barked out orders like a true leader.
Within an hour of arriving in Calhoun the warehouse was empty, just as the sun was coming up. Everything and everyone was packed and loaded into trucks headed to Knoxville. Petra had called in her top ten buyers, changed the sale location, and resent a new password to get into the sale.
He’d offered to take her in the limo back to Knoxville, but she wouldn’t hear of it. He assumed she was still miffed because he hadn’t declared his love to her.
But…the thing was, he did love her. He loved parts of her. Her dedication, work ethic and her company. But he wasn’t in love with her. He was still super hung up on the idea that she needed to look like a supermodel to be on his arm. He had to admit though, when she’d said she’d take care of him even in his old age, that part sounded amazing.
None of the women he’d ever courted wanted to take care of him. They all just wanted to be taken care of and although he could appreciate the difference, he still couldn’t make himself love her.
On the drive back to Knoxville, Norman’s phone rang.
“Miller here.” He listened intently to the pinhead on the phone.
“What do you mean, offline?” Norman pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, don’t use the word hacked. YOU are my IT professional! You tell me how my entire operation is offline.”
Norman listened intently for another moment until he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“That little twerp. No, I know exactly who you’re talking about. Get on it right now, Jackson. Find that little hacker and get back with me on his address and while you’re at it, contact our attorneys. This idiot kid can’t block me like this, especially on release day. Fans are waiting.”
Norman tossed his phone onto the floorboard.
Jealous. People were just jealous of his talents in developing new games. This one had been in the works for a long time. Beta tested and debugged over 1000 times. And still. Here on release day, he had one sniveling hacker that took down his whole operation.
Norman’s phone lit up around his feet. He reached down, looked, and smiled.
The kid’s whereabouts.
Perfect.
~*~
Crash was already loaded and scratching in the back of the Tahoe. His furry partner jumped the seats, catching eyes with Kris. He jumped the backseat, wagged, then stilled. Cautiously, he crept forward and sniffed the bandage officer Thompson had put on Kris’s head. After a few seconds, he searched Kris’s eyes.
“I’m fine,” Kris said, scratching the dog on the head.
Archie and Aiden clambered into the back seat on either side of Crash and once they got on the road, Kris noticed they both seemed giddy about something. Archie kept showing Aiden his phone.
No matter. Kris was lost inside his own thoughts. He’d called in some favors both in Calhoun and Knoxville. Found out that it seemed Cap Samuels was snug in his bed during the early morning hours instead of following the wagon train of hostages to Knoxville.
Shocker.
He’d also noted that according to a friend who lived down the street from his brother John, he hadn’t been there all night.
Kris scrubbed his head. He still held out hope that John was on the side of good, although the evidence was starting to point the other way.
In the Knoxville Department, he had one trusted ally who gave him some 411 on abandoned buildings and indicated there was some police scanner trash about trucks unloading into the old Kerns Bakery Building just over the bridge.
That’s where he’d start.
It was an iconic abandoned factory and when he was a kid, every Saturday morning right after cartoons, you could smell the baking of fresh bread when you ran outside to play.
Nothing smelled better.
~*~
Two and a half hours later, they’d fueled up on caffeine and gas and parked the SUV in an open lot several blocks from the factory.
God, he hoped he was in the right place.
This location was much easier to carry out surveillance because it was on a busy street flanked on one side by a posh new University of Tennessee student housing, and on the other side by an overgrown abandoned gas station, giving him some cover between the parking lots.
In its heyday, the front of the bakery had been the store and the back was an expansive warehouse that used to house long lines of machinery used to mix, knead and bake the dough. Now, it was all abandoned. The only thing left was the original sign that read Kern’s Bakery. There had been talk of turning it into an office building while keeping the character of the old place, but apparently Norman Miller got his hooks into it before that could happen.
As they circled the property in darkness, a few things came to light.
First, each entrance was guarded by a camouflaged human holding an AR. Sneaking into an open door like he’d done in Calhoun wouldn’t work. Second, there were lights on inside. The windows were painted black and grimy, but you could still see the tiniest of light even from the road, but since that part of Chapman highway had zero traffic at four in the morning, nobody would notice.
His only chance would be to enter the old factory from the roof. With a half a football field between two guarded doors there was a locked cage encasing the bottom of a ladder leading to the roof. It was most likely put there to discourage the homeless from using the roof as a temporary home.
Crash and the boys hung back in the SUV as Kris crept closer to take a better look. Still dressed in all black, he was blending into the shadows quite nicely.
Until, that is, a limousine pulled in shining its headlights straight into his eyes.
Kris ducked.
The driver screeched to a halt, flung open his door and stared right at the dark line of bushes where Kris hid.
Kris held his breath. He was well hidden, but it still unnerved him that the man could somehow sense he was there.
The man was house-sized large and as his eyes scanned every inch of the area, another door opened and Norman Miller got out, looking uneasy.
Within thirty seconds, he was ushered past one of the guards stationed at the door and inside the building. His bodyguard took one last look in Kris’s direction before shutting the door.
When Kris crept back to his vehicle, opened the door, and slid inside, the two boys all but crapped themselves. Wide-eyed, they both sighed seeing Kris.
Kris called to Crash, who stood between the seats at full attention.
“Gotta do this, buddy.”
Kris took off Crash’s official police harness that marked him as part of the force. Crash stared up at him.
“I know. We’re on our own. But listen if you get lost or captured, I’ll find you, okay?” Kris scrubbed the dog behind the ears then dropped the harness on the floor of the SUV. Crash smelled it, then sat.
“Every door is guarded, but there’s a fire escape leading to the roof. It’s locked though.” Kris looked around and his gaze landed on Archie.
“Climb over the seat into the back and see what tools they’ve loaded. If they’ve outfitted this vehicle, there should be bolt cutters. We all carry ‘em.”
Archie handed his phone to Aiden and shimmied over the seat, awkwardly landing with a thud on the other side. Skinny legs hanging over the seat were all that Kris could see.
Archie held up a V shaped wooden handle. “This?”
“Flip it around.”
The kid was laying on his back and struggled to get the tool turned. Then he lifted it so Kris could see it.
“Hell yeah. Pass em.”
Archie passed the cutters to Aiden, who handed them to Kris.
“Now, we need a diversion.”
Archie rustled around in the back, trying to right his body to climb back over.
“Would this work?” Archie asked, one arm holding up a package with ‘CAUTION’ written in several languages on the side.
Kris’s eyes widened as he nodded slowly. A smile crept up his lips. “Aiden, didn’t you say you were proficient at starting fires?”
Aiden looked down at his hands, embarrassed. “I wouldn’t say proficient, but yeah…I can start a fire.”
Kris nodded. When Aiden’s gaze lifted to his, Kris patted him on the shoulder. “This time we will use your powers for good.”
Aiden smiled.
Kris pointed to the tiny patch of woods at the edge of the bakery’s back parking lot. Then he looked both boys in the eyes.
“Once they see the flames, they’ll come for you. How do we get you out of there?”
Archie held up one finger, then typed something into his phone. When he finished, he smiled from Kris to Aiden. “I got this part.”
With the plan laid out, Aiden and Archie crawled over the seats to the back of the SUV as Kris rolled down the rear window. Crash sat still but watched the boys as they snuck out, armed with a package of flares, a lighter and their phones.
Aiden took one last look at Kris. Kris gave him a reassuring nod.
“Remember, you’re just a couple of kids out in the middle of the night getting into mischief. If we’re super lucky, they’ll just let you go. Tell ‘em you got dropped here by some older friend. If you see police though, get gone. We don’t know if we can trust them.”
Archie nodded and Aiden gave a thumbs up then disappeared into the darkness of the parking lot next to the factory. He hoped they’d be alright.
Kris turned to Crash. “Ready, partner?”
Crash sat up straight, stopped panting, with his ears high at attention.
“I’m gonna need your speed, buddy.”
Kris stroked the canine behind the ears.
God, he prayed he could get inside without being caught.
~*~
The lavish black lacy outfit they’d made Amy wear was soft to the touch, and in places embarrassingly see through.
Without a watch it was hard to tell, but she was sure it was only four or five in the morning. Her eyes were puffy from zero sleep. Yet, they’d spent over an hour stacking her hair in an expert updo, slathering her face with makeup and her body with some pricey smelling lotion. As she stood, Amy caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
Under the fluorescent lights of whatever cold damp place they’d brought them to this time, she hoped she would look as haggard as she felt.
When she walked into the room, two buyers’ representatives stood about ten feet away. They’d arrived under the cover of darkness that morning to take pictures and video of her and send it back to their buyers.
One corner of the room was expertly lit up as if someone were about to do an interview or a photo shoot. The guard escorted Amy to what appeared to be a seamstress box draped with red velvet and assisted her in stepping onto the platform.
When Amy’s eyes adjusted to the bright lights pointed at her, she could see Petra’s shape and dark fuzzy hair standing off to the side. Amy narrowed her eyes to focus. Petra’s lips were pressed together, and her puffy eyes were narrowed.
One thing was certain though, Petra was extremely anxious. She shuffled from one foot to the other watching the two men who stood before her.
Both men were impeccably dressed, although one seemed to err on the side of eccentric. He had tattoos up his long neck and holes in both earlobes that you could fit your thumb inside. His hair was colored shiny black, long on one side, spiky short on the other and his fingernail polish matched his hair.
The other man stood stoic a few feet away from the first as if the man’s bizarre style would somehow rub off on him. This second man looked more like an undertaker with his shiny black suit and a dark grey shirt underneath. His face contorted and scrunched as he made notes in a small notebook and took the occasional picture. All without saying a word.
The more flamboyant man staggered and swayed as if he were under the influence of some hallucinogenic. Every few minutes he’d smile to himself as if he heard something funny. At one point he hopped up and down, giddy as a child waiting for a puppy. When he finally spoke, she was shocked by his perfect diction and speech, with touches of flowy intonations that suggested Ireland was his homeland.
“Can we see the product without clothing, so?” The tattooed man blurted it out as if he were buying a toaster or a blender.
Amy’s body stiffened and her stomach churned.
She watched Petra’s body language shift. Their eyes met.
“No,” Petra shook her head. “The product is as bare as she needs to be. Both buyers will be here tonight for the auction and if they require it, we will oblige.”
Amy released the breath she’d held.
It was a kindness, Amy knew.
Behind the two buyers’ representatives, lurking in the shadows, stood the outline of another figure. One that Amy couldn’t quite see fully, but Petra’s eyes shifted to this person every few minutes.
When the men had all the information they needed, she watched them skulk off in different directions, both typing into their phones. The guard handed her a black robe and she quickly tugged it on to cover herself.
As she looked down to tie a side knot in the spaghetti straps to hold the robe closed, a tear she hadn’t realized was there, stung then slid down her cheek.
She had to go through with this.
One year…they could do whatever they wanted with her for a year. And during that time, she’d become stronger and craftier.
She could endure anything to protect her boy.
~*~
As soon as Archie and Aiden were out of sight, Kris and Crash snuck as close to the fire escape as possible without being seen.
He knew Crash could make the ladder faster than he could. They’d practiced ascending and descending ladders in training, but that was several months ago. He was taking a huge risk that the dog would remember how to speed up, get traction and go up a ladder full speed.
This was the one time everything needed to go exactly to plan. The boys would plant a diversion, he’d cut the bolt, Crash would ascend with him right behind and they’d be on the roof within a few seconds.
If this plan didn’t work, he was sure he’d be looking down the barrel of one of those ARs or shot in the face without warning.
Bolt cutters in one hand and the other firmly on Crash’s back, they stayed still and silent behind a bush, but close enough to see the blacked out face and whites of the eyes of the guard at the door next to the fire escape.
After a damn long several minutes of anxious anticipation and wondering if the boys had gotten sidetracked, he heard the guard let out a curse.
When he followed the guard’s line of sight he watched as the small patch of woods just beyond the parking lot flashed, followed by a loud boom.
Kris stood openmouthed.
Not only were the woods engulfed in fire, but something about the size of a beachball had been catapulted into the air by the explosion. With a boom it landed on fire just a few feet from him.
Aiden surely knew how to blow things up, but now Kris’s plan was in jeopardy. Two of the guards ran toward the woods while the one closest jogged directly toward Kris and Crash to put out the fire.
Damnit. He’d have to act fast.
Crash crouched like a cat, ready to pounce.
The guard was focused on what Kris now knew was an old plastic gas can fully aflame. The man ran toward it then stopped, unsure how to douse the fire. He glanced from side to side and then took off his jacket.
Kris crept around behind the man as he focused on the burning plastic can. He raised the handle of the bolt cutters and prayed this would knock the guy out.
That’s when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.
Crash’s tail.
It flopped twice, then stilled.
When the man spun and faced him he had only one choice.
