Okay, here's another chapter! Enjoy, R&R!
Logan Gomez hurried down an empty street, slamming into dumpsters and fences along the way. He had his hand over his right shoulder as he attempted to slow the bleeding of the gunshot wound. Just a few more blocks.
He never should've taken that job; that much was obvious. He was desperate at the time, so five grand for tracking some girl seemed like cake. Logan had tracked her down and he waited behind the wheel as Von and Ryan grabbed her from that apartment. But what happened once they returned to the warehouse…it was not what he'd signed up for.
He crossed the street and went up the steps to the doors to the crappy apartment complex. He cursed as he passed the elevator's 'out of service' sign and headed to the stairs. At the third floor, he passed his reflection in the window; a thin sheet of sweat had covered his face, which was getting paler by the second. He just needed to make it one more floor and he'd be there. But with each step, he found himself getting heavier and heavier, the staircase got longer and longer. Logan made it up the last flight of stairs and into the hallway before he collapsed. He stared up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours, the yellow-tinted lights overhead flickering as he tried to swallow. His mouth was so dry; he was having a hard time remembering the last time he had something to drink. He coughed and groaned, clenching his eyes shut when his arm twinged. Upon opening his eyes, Logan couldn't remember why he was on the floor, or how he even got to this building. His eyes fluttered closed and his head slumped against his shoulder.
xXx
Reese recognized Terra's number on his phone and was quick to answer it. "Terra? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine,"
He breathed a sigh of relief. "What's going on?"
"I…I was wondering if—" He waited for her to continue as he and Carter got into her cruiser. "Could you make sure my uncle's okay? It's just that I haven't spoken to him since I left Washington and I'd feel a whole hell of a lot better if I knew he was okay."
He closed his eyes as Carter drove to the warehouse. He didn't particularly want lie to the girl, especially if her uncle later turned up dead, but at the same time, if she knew he was missing, she would go looking for him, putting her in more danger. "Sure."
"Thanks." He felt a pang of guilt at the relief in her voice, but ignored it. He hung up and looked out the window.
Carter took a few side looks at him. "What's with the look?"
Reese looked at her, covering whatever look he'd had with a bemused smile. "I don't have a look."
She raised a brow. "You looked like you just kicked a puppy."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He said, frowning as he looked out the window again.
"Mm-hm."
xXx
Finch sat at his desk in the library, for once feeling out of place amongst the hundreds of priceless books that surrounded him. He felt nervous, and to be completely honest, a little scared. He worried for Terra's safety all alone at the hotel. Even though she'd proven to be a force to be reckoned with, she was still his daughter. He didn't even want to be here, he felt like he should be back at the hotel with her, but he knew, logically, that his time was better utilized here at the library, digging out information on the men who'd kidnapped his daughter.
As he waited for a few files to load, he pulled up a picture of Natalie. It was from college almost twenty years ago. It had been a beautiful day when that picture had been taken. The sun was shining, grass was green and the sky was blue. The day that picture had been taken was the day Harold had started what would become the most remarkable invention ever created. It was also the day Harold and Natalie's relationship started going downhill. He spent more and more time on the machine, less and less time with Natalie and, inevitably, the rest of his friends—with the exception of Nathan of course.
Her long black hair spilled over her sun kissed shoulders as she leaned towards Finch. Natalie had pulled Harold close and kissed his cheek as she took the picture, and although her lips were on his cheek, you could see the corner of her mouth turned up in a smile. He remembered how badly he'd blushed, and how long Nathan had teased him for it. Harold pulled up another photo, one of Terra with her mother. They were in a park, the river glistening behind them. Both were smiling at the camera as they leaned against each other.
It was obvious that Terra shared many physical attributes with Natalie, like her eyes, skin tone, jaw line and high cheekbones. But as he looked, Harold could see a few similarities between Terra and himself. A little around the mouth, but mainly in her eyes; although they were the same color as Natalie's, they held intelligence and pragmatism that Harold recognized.
As a file on his computer finished loading, Finch opened it and his trepidations were immediately amplified. He sent the pictures to Reese's phone and dialed him.
"Finch, I'm here with Carter at the warehouse. We've got a problem." Reese said over the line. The sound of people talking was in the background. "The fire department is all over that warehouse. It went up in flames twenty minutes ago."
"The work of the thugs?" Carter hypothesized. "Trying to get rid of any evidence that your girl was there?"
"I don't think that's what transpired, Detective." Finch interrupted.
"Sounds like you know something we don't." Reese said. "Care to share with the class, Finch?"
"I sent you a file, Mr. Reese." Finch waited for him to open it.
"These are the guys." Reese confirmed. "They were in the warehouse when I went in to get Terra."
"They were all killed last night." Finch informed them. "Shot in the head, execution style. I do agree with you detective, someone is covering their tracks. The person who hired these men also killed them to keep them quiet."
"Wait, Finch." Reese said. "There's one missing. There were eight men in that building; one went over the railing, but I left seven alive. There are only six pictures here."
"Then he's still out there." Finch began digging into anything that would help identify the last man who could tell them who was after Terra. "He might be at a hospital. I'll check hospitals within a fifty mile radius for gunshot victims."
"I doubt he's going to a hospital, Finch." Reese said. "Hospitals have to report all gunshot wounds to the police. He can't very well tell them how he got shot."
"So what do you suggest?" Finch asked, aware that his tone was less than amicable.
"Check out any break-ins at veterinarian clinics. And find the closest security cameras to the warehouse; he might've been caught on one of them." Finch began a search and was about to hang up when John's voice called to him. "Finch? We will find him."
xXx
Terra sat in the hotel room, aimlessly flipping through channels on the TV. As she flipped, she thought about Harold. He was kind, polite and obviously smart. She could tell that he'd loved her mom, judging by the way he smiled when he spoke about her or the pain and surprise in his eyes when Terra mentioned her mom's death. He and Terra got along well, talking about books and music, among other things.
As she looked around the hotel room for the hundredth time, Terra recalled her uncle Dave telling her Harold was a computer engineer, but did they earn enough to buy out the whole third floor of a five star hotel? Improbable. He wasn't just an engineer, that much was clear, but then, what did he do? Terra had been so preoccupied with giving Harold the letter and then with discovering that he was her father, she hadn't stopped to really think about her current situation. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that nothing made sense. How the person she'd traveled across the country to find, ended up finding her. How had they just happened to come upon the warehouse she'd been held in?
"If things seem too good to be true, then it probably is." Terra recalled a piece of advice, given to her by Dave. "Dissect it. Go through everything, find what doesn't add up and figure out why."
She closed her eyes and did just that. She went through everything. From the day she left Burbank, to staying at that crap motel in Miles City, arriving at Harold's apartment, being kidnapped, the warehouse, being rescued by John—
She remembered being up high, on a platform of some kind, looking down. The unconscious bodies of several men on the ground. John had stood among them. She was planning to just slip out the back, avoid him altogether, when he turned around.
"Terra?"
She opened her eyes. He'd known her name before she'd ever introduced herself. The only way he'd know that is if he'd been tracking her. Her mind flashed back to the library. That clear board, they'd had everything on her, birthday, address, social, cell phone records. As much as she hated to think it, the evidence was overwhelming. John and Harold, her own father, had been tracking her for quite some time, judging by the amount of information up on that board. Her eyes caught the file on the table in front of her.
She groaned as she ran her hands over her face. "There is no way I could be that stupid." The damn file was supposed to be sealed at the courthouse in Burbank. But here it was, sitting on a hotel room coffee table in New York and she hadn't thought twice about it.
Something on the TV caught her eye. She flipped back to the previous channel and her jaw dropped. There on the screen was her picture, under big block letters that spelled out AMBER ALERT. She turned up the volume and listened carefully.
"…started out as a small town investigation has now become a nation-wide Amber Alert. Terra Robin Matthews was last seen in Burbank, Washington Monday morning. Since then, she has been sighted in Miles City, Montana and New York City, New York within the past few days. She was reported missing when police found the home of David Jenkins, uncle of Terra Matthews, ransacked with obvious signs of a struggle." Terra's picture filled the screen. "Terra is seventeen years old, has brown hair and green eyes. If anyone has any information concerning her whereabouts, you are urged to call the police department. The number of your local police department is on the bottom of the screen…"
Terra fought to keep calm. Running to the bathroom, she leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water on her face. She gripped the sides of the sink hard, she felt if she let go, she'd fall down. She could feel her insides collapsing like a house of cards. Her uncle, her rock throughout the ordeal of her mother's death, was gone…missing, probably because of her.
She didn't know how long she stood there, leaning over the sink trying not to fall apart. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes before the phone John had given her chimed in her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at the caller ID.
She answered it, bringing the phone closer to her ear. "Hello?"
"Terra." Reese greeted. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," She answered as nonchalantly as she could. "Why? What's up?"
There was a slight pause on his end. Not long, a few seconds at the most, but enough to cause her heart to skip with nervousness. "You sounded…scared."
She thought up something quick. "Well, there are people trying to kidnap me, so yeah, I'm a little scared."
"Of course," He said, sounding unconvinced. "I sent you a picture, did you get it?"
"Hold on." She pulled the phone from her ear and checked the inbox. One new message was listed; she selected it and a picture came up. It looked like security footage of some sort, a man leaning against a wall, holding his shoulder. His face was turned partially toward the camera, but like he was looking at something else, just past it. "Yeah, I got it."
"Do you recognize him?"
She zoomed in on his face and concentrated. He was in the room, at the warehouse; he'd kept the blond man from hurting her any further. She remembered trying to reason with him, but to no prevail. She opened her mouth to confirm the fact that she recognized him, but stopped. If her suspicions were right, then she couldn't trust him. Or Harold.
"Terra?" John's voice brought her out of her thoughts.
"No." She lied. "Sorry. Everything from the other day is foggy."
"It's alright." John said. "If you do remember him or anything at all, give me or your father a call."
She nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Okay…Hey John?"
"Yeah?"
"D-" She swallowed hard. "Did you get a chance to check on my uncle?"
"…Yeah. He's fine."
Terra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That settled it. "Okay. Thanks John."
She abruptly hung up the phone and started packing up her things. She sat down, taking another look at that picture, Terra zoomed in on a store sign in the background. It was fuzzy and damn near impossible to read, but the sign itself, with the dragon surrounding the blurred words jogged her memory. When she'd first arrived in New York, Terra had driven to a shady part of the city to purchase a gun. That sign hung in the window of a small bar she'd passed after her purchase had been made.
She got up and grabbed her bag from the bed. After she emailed the picture to herself and took the phone John had given her and took it apart. She thought momentarily about leaving a note, but dismissed the idea instantaneously. It would be preposterous to leave a damn goodbye note to the people she was running away from. She slung her bag over her shoulder and took one last look at the room before closing the door behind her.
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