Part 12
Bryce recognised the tang in his mouth as what he liked to call 'after-knockout breath'. Recalling what he last remembered was tricky as there were a few floaty memories in there and he was certain that whatever this was, Peter wasn't involved, but he quickly recalled when he looked to his side to see a familiar figure who was also tied up.
"Tempest," he sighed. She was not the list of 'people I want to be kidnapped with' but he guessed he could trust her. At least until they were out. "What happened?"
"Jumped us," she grumbled in response. Her glasses were missing; they had broken when she had been grabbed from behind. "At least I managed to give mine a nosebleed."
Because the first thing you want to do is annoy the person knocking you unconscious.
"Let's hope someone saw us and went for help," Bryce mused, remembering that Mozzie had vanished to scope the perimeter before they had been taken.
"Yeah, well, I'm not waiting," Tempest muttered as she wormed her way over to him. "Grab the heel of my shoe, it's hiding a knife."
Bryce was surprised. Who had been sloppy enough to leave the woman with her shoes? But he supposed he should be grateful for it and so he grabbed the heel of her black high heels and unsheathed the small knife.
First he freed his hands and then her feet, before freeing his feet and her hands. She held out her hand for the knife and he hesitated before passing it over.
"I thought I was safe but I guess they don't want me telling you what I managed to find out," she mused as she slid the knife back into its camouflage as her heel.
"You're not even trying to hide your skills now," he pointed out.
She glared at him in response.
"Look, they took what I was going to give you but here's the gist of it. I managed to get a picture of someone entering Ellen's house before the gunshots happened."
"How?" Small room, no furniture, one window too small and high for them to bother with and one door.
"None of your business how," she responded placing her hands on her hips. "I've also noticed something else, don't know whether it's relevant to your agent's death or not but I checked out the guys who were following me. They were all Company men but some of them, about one in two, have death certificates and obituaries. Including you."
"Hazards of the job," Bryce pointed out. He tried the doorknob as there was no lock but, while the knob moved, the door didn't budge. "Oh, this is ridiculous." He tried forcing the door using his shoulder with no luck.
"We'll try together," Tempest said, moving to stand beside him. "With a proper front kick and not foolish, manly, movie-tricks, thank you."
"Ouch. That was mean," Bryce commented in a deadpan. He didn't really care as long as they got out of here. He was starting to feel a little claustrophobic in here.
It reminded him a little of prison. When Bryce was dead to the world and Neal's girlfriend, Kate, had been blown up, landing Neal right back in prison for a while.
That was information Bryce had to gather himself with whatever little computer time he could wheedle out of the guards. Walking up in a secret CIA facility wasn't even half as terrifying as waking up in prison; a least he knew why he was in the CIA facility and could devise a plan to get out.
It took two well-timed kicks to get the door to break. The door led to an unremarkable hallway.
"Think they're still here?" Tempest questioned.
Bryce didn't answer. There were no signs of like but Tempest has subtly suggested that the CIA might be behind this.
They crept down the hallway and found a room with one person in it. He was sitting on a chair and watching surveillance footage while munching on a packet of chips. Bryce borrowed Tempest's necklace and walked over to him.
He wrapped the necklace around the man's neck and pressed tight, chocking him.
"Who are you?" he demanded to know, "and what are you doing here?" He waited a moment before relenting enough for the man to breathe.
He blabbed as soon as the first gasp of air managed to reach his lungs. He had been hired to watch the screens and make sure no unauthorised people entered the building. It had been short notice but he had been desperate for a job.
"What do you think?" Bryce asked Tempest.
"He's probably telling the truth."
"This whole thing seems off," Bryce pointed out. They had escaped with little difficulty and this guy was 'spilling everything'. "Like, I don't know, like it had been put together quickly." And yet, if whomever was behind this wanted them out of the way, why not just shoot them?
Tempest cursed.
"My stuff's not here," she muttered as she rummaged through drawers and boxes. "The images and information are gone."
"That was probably the goal here," Bryce mused.
Tempest glared at him as she finished searching. She straightened up her blouse and pulled a pin off the cuff.
"We should get out of here." She walked right for the door. Bryce had one more look around before following her.
The screens continued to show empty rooms and carparks.
"You might want to leave too," Bryce said to the man. He had been quiet and still the whole time, a hand to his throat and breathing heavily. His pupils were pinpricks of fear and Bryce felt sorry for him.
The building was on an abandoned block. There was a notice for demolition on the front gate.
"Okay, so we get kidnapped and my information gets stolen," Tempest summed up. "I guess someone doesn't want you seeing it."
"Oh well," Bryce shrugged, "there are other ways to do this." He had a moment when he considered calling Chuck and asking him to help but he didn't want to impose on his old friend. Besides Casey had gone to the trouble to send him quotas for their work, 'in case working with the FBI dulls his abilities', and he could not afford them.
Tempset hailed them a taxi and told him to get in.
"What?"
"You really thought I'd brought the only copies?" she smirked at him. Then the smirk dropped a little. "Seriously?"
"We did just escape from a building with minimal security by kicking down a door and giving a guy a heart attack."
"True. Looks like they don't want us dead, although I'm going to leave the country for a while," Tempest said.
Bryce nodded. She had too much exposure here. If had been him, he would leaving the country and living out his days in obscurity in France or something. At least until he gets bored and designs the next super-computer or something.
Tempest led him into a post office and pulled out an envelope from a PO Box.
"Here," she said passing to him. She had also pulled out a go-bag with cards and money stored in it. Her plan was to buy a lot of plane tickets to different locations and get out of the country that way. "With this, I hope the CIA will leave me alone."
"I can't guarantee that. Especially if deceased agents are tracking you. Be careful," Bryce responded with.
"I had a feeling that was the case. So, just get these guys and I'll call it even," she responded.
Bryce nodded, the envelope heavy in his hands. He didn't wait before opening it and glancing at the contents.
"What?" he muttered as he looked over the information. Photos of the people who had visited Ellen's apartment over the course of the 48 hours before her death.
Neal was there and Mozzie visited too. And Peter.
Bryce frowned at that one. Peter had been working in the cave of the FBI, helping Jones and Diana break a case and visited E? Alone? Without Neal? And then there was another guy, wearing a trench coat and hat. The picture had been taken from a dash cam and Bryce couldn't make out his face. Just the big build.
He cursed. This didn't bring him any closer to finding E's killer at all.
And then Peter rang.
