One Rule - No Surrender, page 24
part #2 of One Rule Series
"You're so pretty, I'm sure many guys notice you. But they might be afraid to let you see that."
Laura tugged a strand of hair over her coloring cheek. "I bet guys totally drool over you all the time."
"I once overheard some guys talking about me in high school that I think sums up how men think about me. 'She's hot as hell. Too bad she isn't human.'"
"Ouch! Boys can be so stupid and cruel."
"Hey, the girls called me 'vampire girl' – when they weren't referring to me as a freak."
"Ha, right. Make that 'people can be so stupid and cruel.'"
They started back down the trail, she and Laura walking side by side. It felt good, almost scarily good, to talk to someone who was family, Thalma thought. Of course she had Louis for that, but it wasn't quite the same as having a female to talk to – something she'd first learned with Maggie.
If only she could reset her life starting with this moment: just Laura, Louis, herself – and Maggie as her best friend – going forward without any threats from law enforcement agencies or WSGI goons. That was the life she wanted.
Thalma set her jaw. That's the life I will have. And if anyone tried to prevent that, there would be hell to pay.
Chapter 16
"SOMEONE'S IN THE FRONT office," said Maggie, her big brown eyes flashing dark messages. Thalma, Louis, and Laura stopped eating their burgers and followed her stare toward the lobby. "Four dudes. Sunglasses, packing. I'm guessing WSGI field operatives. They're asking to see Mrs. McDowell."
Thalma stood up, noting that Maggie had unbuttoned the middle button of her blouse and untucked it, freeing access to her waist and bra holsters. Following her example, Thalma exposed the front of her white conceal-carry tank top.
"Louis," she said in a low, measured voice, "would you take Laura and Joe into the back bathroom and close the door."
"They wouldn't start shooting here, would they?" Louis asked.
"Not likely," said Maggie. "It's a meeting. But why take a chance?"
Thalma nodded to Laura, whose face was rapidly losing its usual pink hues, and the girl accepted Louis's outstretched hand. Louis met Thalma's eyes for a moment before turning with Laura toward the back of the shop.
"Keep your distance from me," said Thalma quietly as she and Maggie headed toward the front office.
"I know."
They entered behind the front counter. Maggie eased over to the far end and sat down. She drew her M&P Shield and held it behind her back out of sight of the four men wearing light jackets and dark sunglasses standing by the front windows. One of the men, a trim six-footer with thick waves of blond hair swept across his forehead stepped forward, removing his sunglasses and greeting them both with a white-toothed smile.
"Mrs. McDowell," he said, placing mock emphasis on the name. "I'm Rick Grunfield. Wonder if I might have a word. Maybe in a more private setting."
Thalma considered the tactical possibilities. "We can go back in the office. Tell your men to wait outside."
The man's smile hardened at the edges. His blue-grey eyes appraised Thalma, shifting once or twice to Maggie. Thalma appraised him back. He and his men had that familiar swagger.
"We're not looking for trouble," he said.
"And yet here you are."
"You know who we are?"
"I have a pretty good idea."
"And I have a pretty good idea of who you are." He paused. "Ms. Engstrom."
"Tell your men to wait outside. If they come through that door without being invited, I will take that as a sign of aggression."
"You do know that we have something of yours. You should take that into consideration when dictating terms."
"I have. If I kill you they'll send other negotiators. Your deaths would just be an operating expense."
Grunfield was no longer smiling. He stared at her with cold, viper's eyes, ready to strike. Thalma almost hoped he would. Perhaps he sensed that, because he relaxed his stance suddenly and nodded to his men. They stepped outside without a word.
Thalma nodded to the side door. Grunfield followed her through the shop into Louis's office. Thalma was tempted to smack his face into the desk but motioned to a chair instead. The man sat down, spreading his jacket just short of revealing the shoulder harness Thalma knew was there.
"Your mother sends her greetings," he said.
"My mother and I aren't on speaking terms."
"Yet you visited her recently. Her and her teenage daughter." When Thalma didn't reply, he said, "On the belief that your mother and your sister have some value to you, my employers have a proposition: we will release your mom and cease all threats present and future toward her and your sister in return for a full disclosure of your property holdings and computer network."
"What's the point? I could be keeping information about your company and what happened in Seattle anywhere, both virtually and physically."
"Yes, that's understood, of course. But some very skilled hackers would be granted full access to your computers and networks, including passwords, while people equally skilled at physical searches would be granted full access to your property or anywhere we identify as your property."
Icy footsteps were tramping up and down Thalma's spine. She hadn't expected that approach. Of course, she could attempt to funnel their searches into certain areas, but truly talented individuals could dig up some gems if she let them take even one step through her front door. And if she didn't let them take that step, the WSGI wouldn't be satisfied. Maybe they'd kill her mother. Or maybe they'd attempt to kill her and Louis. She wasn't seeing a win-win outcome here.
"In the end, once our people are satisfied that you've shown us everything, you get your ma – and your life – back."
"I think you mean 'show you everything relevant to your vaccine operation'?"
Grunfield spread his hands. "In order for us to know you've done full disclosure they have to see everything. Nothing would be off limits." His white-toothed grin was back, with added sardonic. "If you don't have anything to hide, why should you care, as they say."
"I'm sure WSGI feels the same way about all the information in its possession."
"Right now the question is what you're going to do, Ms. Engstrom."
"If I were to allow you full access to my data, that would necessarily compromise my employer's data, which they would find unacceptable."
"Your employer is one of the things we want to know about."
"I'm sure, but my employer won't allow that."
"You could switch employers – work for us. I've been authorized to make that offer. You would work under our umbrella of protection."
"You're assuming that you could protect me."
"Hey, we're the A-team, honey. No one's going to mess with us."
"Ignoring the fact that they have messed with you, and pretty fucking thoroughly."
"Mathias doesn't want to go head to head with WSGI." He pronounced it "Wise Guy." "Trust me on that."
"But I don't trust you."
"Well, that's the offer on the table, lady, and I'm the man making it to you."
"So your offer is that I turn against my current employer and provide you all the information I have on them, including their recent operation in Seattle? And in return, you release my mom and not take any further action against me or my family?"
"That's it in a nutshell. Once we get what we want, you go back to living your nice white barbed wire fence life – except you'll be working for us."
"Salary and benefits?" Thalma decided to play the negotiating game as she tried to figure out how she truly wanted to handle this. "Payment for my obviously valuable service?"
"Someone else will work out those details with you. I'm here basically to see if you're open to the deal."
"I'm supposed to agree to a deal without knowing the terms?"
"Seems like the only term you need to know now is that if you don't play nice your momma goes bye-bye."
"Doesn't sound like much of a deal to me. As your people would know, if they'd done their homework, my mom and I don't have a relationship."
"How about your sister? You know, the one hiding in your bathroom? Would it bother you if her brains were splattered all over her designer jeans?"
Thalma started to reach for him. Grunfield backed away, his right hand slipping into his jacket. Thalma willed her hand back onto the desk. She couldn't afford knee-jerk emotional responses right now.
"You know," said Grunfield, "just between us, I hope you refuse the deal. Last year you killed a couple of friends of mine. You or your mysterious brother. Doesn't matter to me which. Far as I'm concerned, you can eat shit and die. And if you got nothing to offer, that's exactly what will happen."
"Who were your friends?"
Surprise peeked through his thousand-yard stare. "Doesn't matter."
"One in the North Dakota storage place?"
"Yeah. And a former boss. Went down in a plane that was carrying your brother."
"Murphy?"
Grunfield stared at her with heavy-lidded eyes. Thalma smiled.
"He's in a better place," she said.
"I don't believe in that religious horseshit. Here is all we have, and you took that from him."
"So you don't care about morality, but you care about your friends?"
"They're all that's worth caring about."
"But what makes them worth caring about?"
"Is that a trick question?"
"Yes."
Grunfield smiled – a slow smile filled with unalloyed hostility.
"Do you have kids?" Thalma asked. "A wife? Family?"
"Is that supposed to be a threat?"
"Not from me. I wouldn't hurt any innocent person. Of course, I can't speak for my employers. They might have no problem hunting down everyone you care about and, as you put it, splattering their brains on their designer jeans."
"You fucking bitch."
"What? Turnabout isn't fair play?"
Grunfield favored her with more heavy-lidded eyes, his hand inching back under his jacket. Thalma readied herself. If his hand slid another inch inward she would launch herself over the desk and take him down.
His hand stopped, and some of the tension eased from his body. Reason would prevail. For the moment.
"I get it. You're busting my balls." He removed his hand from under his jacket and stood up. "So what's it going to be, Dirty Harriett? What should I tell my employers?"
Thalma had come to a decision. She hoped it wouldn't cost her mom her life, but it seemed to be the best play.
"Tell them to deliver my mom safely to me. Then we can start negotiating."
"I thought you didn't care about her?"
"She doesn't deserve a death sentence for not being the world's greatest mom. I'll take that as a token of 'Wise Guy's' good faith."
"I doubt they'll go for it."
"They'll have to, if they want this to go forward."
Grunfield scowled at her. "I'll tell them."
A DAY passed without further contact from World Security Group International. She'd consulted with Murphy at some length, along with Louis and Maggie, and the consensus was that she'd made the right move and that WSGI would concede her condition. Meanwhile, Murphy claimed his people were working overtime to discover a possible location for Elena Engstrom.
Driving Laura and Louis back from work – Maggie decided to do some last-minute shopping before joining them for dinner - Thalma imagined snipers in the trees and mountainsides and the tops of tall houses all the way home. The key in any battle was having your opponent off-balance, on knowing where they were and what they were doing while your activities and location were question marks. That was the position she was accustomed to occupying, but now her situation had been reversed. Everything about her opponent was a question mark, while she was an open book.
They all agreed that even if WSGI returned her mom neither she nor any of them would be safe – "Including me," Murphy had stated – and that the "long game" involved attacking their problem at the core. Murphy said they were probing Mathias Investigative Network on a variety of levels, and had even been contacted by a WSGI executive.
"Gary Tan, head of WSGI's Special Projects Division, contacted me yesterday and invited me to lunch," Murphy had said. "We danced and fenced a bit over MIN's relationship with Brunner and what might've gone on in Seattle. Nothing was settled, but I believe groundwork was laid for future negotiations. I made it clear that such negotiations could only proceed in good faith if WSGI ceased any interventions in the lives of possible MIN employees. He said he'd take that under advisement."
Murphy concluded that the WSGI was running a "two-prong" campaign: attempting to "turn" Thalma or perhaps other MIN employees while negotiating at the executive level. If their efforts to subvert Thalma didn't pan out they would likely get serious at the executive negotiating level. If Thalma cooperated, or pretended to cooperate, WSIG would probably hold off on the formal meetings. WSGI executives did not want a war, Murphy assumed, but not hesitate to destroy Mathias Investigative Network if the opportunity presented itself.
Murphy believed the most probable response to Thalma's condition would be to return her mom. If Thalma refused to cooperate, he wasn't sure how they'd respond. They might look to set a lethal "example" with her even as they returned to discussions with Mathias.
Those uncertain scenarios were weighing on Thalma's mind as she entered her driveway and was greeted by the chilling sight of a half-dozen SUVs clustered in front of her garage. She hit the brakes – hard enough for Louis and Laura's seatbelts to lock up. She put her pickup into reverse, but two more SUVs rolled in behind her. A glance to either side confirmed the lack of viable escape routes through the dense woods. This was an absolute worst-case scenario. If she were alone, no problem: she could simply bolt from her truck and run into the woods. Louis and Laura limited her options to one: cooperate.
"What do they want?" Louis asked, his voice ragged with fear.
"I don't know."
Thalma brought out her cell and entered her access code for her property defense armament. No Signal popped up. What the hell? She didn't need a satellite link at this distance to access the mini-dish receiver inside her house. She could only conclude the signal was being jammed. Not only could she not remotely operate her defense system – she couldn't call out.
Thalma was preparing herself for the worst when a door on one of the SUVs opened and Rick Grunfield emerged, turning back to extend his hand to someone inside. A pair of long legs in jeans emerged, followed by a tall red-haired woman.
"Oh my God!" Laura squealed. "They brought Mom!"
Thalma slowed her breathing. It seemed they wouldn't be kidnapped or ambushed. Yet they were hardly in the clear. This was just the opening salvo in what promised to be some messy interactions with the rogue corporation.
She slipped the pickup into gear and edged forward onto the grass, skirting the circle of SUVs to end up right at the front steps.
"Go inside," said Thalma. "Louis, take her and the dogs to the basement safe room. Wait there for me."
"You know I can operate your defense system."
"That takes some real-time practice." Her hand applied gentle pressure pushing him toward the door. "I doubt it will come to that. But you'll be okay in the safe room if it goes to shit."
"Thal..."
His eyes said it all. She stopped him with a quick kiss. "I know." She ushered Louis and her sister in through the front door with pats on the back. "Take care of him, Laura."
"Sure. No problem."
She turned to her mother and Grunfield, approaching ahead of a long column of broad-shouldered men in sports jackets or windbreakers. Grunfield was holding her left arm – and none too gently judging from her mom's wincing expression.
"Surprise delivery," he said, his grey-blue eyes glittering coldly above his pearl-white smile.
Thalma held her ground, staying near the front door, letting Grunfield and his entourage come to her.
"Let her go inside," said Thalma. "I can talk with you out here."
"Nope." Grunfield's smile grew even brighter. "We're all going inside. And you're going to cooperate to your full ability with everything that we ask. The bullshit stops here and now."
"If you want my full cooperation, tell your men to back off. You can come in with my mom and we'll talk."
"Your time for dictating terms has passed. We brought your mom back, now it's time for you to fulfill your end of the deal."
"I said that was the starting point. We need to discuss the terms."
"Fuck you and your terms. Open the fucking door and keep your hands where we can see them."
Thalma watched her illusion of a controlled, peaceful resolution dissolve like the mirage it was. There was no way she could let these men bull their way into her house. With upwards of thirty men, they would have complete control. They'd pry Louis and Laura and her dogs from the safe room. They'd probably kill both Socrates and Plato. They would hold her husband and sister out of her reach and them as they wished if they decided she wasn't giving them everything. And when it was done, they might very well kill her and her family.
She turned with a stoic shrug and hopped up the steps, opening the door. Grunfield dragged Elena Engstrom, whose tightlipped silence and harsh-eyed glances at Thalma spoke volumes of resentment. That resentment was guaranteed to grow exponentially in the next few minutes.
The instant Grunfield and her mother entered the house, Thalma followed after them, closing the door as she moved. One of the men on Grunfield's heels grabbed the edge of the door. A stiff side kick to the chest propelled him into the men behind him, causing a domino effect tumble of the three off the stairs. She stepped inside and tapped the lock, hearing the dozen hardened steel pins insert into the steel door with satisfying clunks – accompanied by snarling shouts and pistols snapping clear of their holsters.
Grunfield, still grasping her mom, had drawn his handgun and sighted in on her chest. Men hammered on the door, but unless they brought explosives, they wouldn't be getting through it any time soon. Eventually, they'd get around to shooting out the windows – which wouldn't be easy, either - but by then she'd have the situation in hand inside. Or be dead.
