Chapter Nine

They drove home in silence. Woody absent-mindedly drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and Jordan looking out the passenger side window. When they arrived back at Jordan's house, Woody helped Jordan out of the car and then went in the house and got on his cell phone. He needed to call Hinshaw. He needed to get things set up for tomorrow night. He took off his Kevlar, rolled up his sleeves, loosened his tie and got to work. Three hours later, he sat back in his kitchen chair with a sigh. It was done. He had his agents in place. Jordan would be none the wiser, neither would the Boston PD, who he had deliberately kept out of the loop. Too many officers...may not be a wise thing. One smart-assed, over-eager rookie could screw up the whole scene. And his little girl was not the price he was willing to pay. He reached in his back pocket for his wallet. Jordan had given him Meghan's latest school picture.

He gazed at his daughter for long minutes, his fingers gently tracing the small face. The long chestnut-colored hair... so much like her mother's. And he gazed into his own eyes. Blue. Crystalline blue, was what Jordan had always called them. She had confessed to him yesterday that those eyes of his had made her knees nearly buckle every time she looked into them. And it only took a roll of her daughter's eyes to wrap Jordan around her little finger. Woody wondered what kind of effect Meghan would have on him....and he on her. He didn't have a sister, so his experience with little girls was kind of limited. If Max's and Jordan's relationship was any key, Meghan would soon be leading him around by the nose. He smiled. Not an unpleasant thought.

He had asked Max yesterday who Meghan was most like...and Max said it was a mix. She could be stubborn, like Jordan, when she thought she was right. She was also cheerful and had a sunny disposition, like her dad. She was loving and caring. And smart as a whip. Made all A's in school. Woody was going to give Jordan the benefit of a doubt on that one. His grades in school had been average to dismal. Pushing out of the chair, he went upstairs to take a shower. He needed to get some rest. They all did. Tomorrow night was going to be harrowing, at best.

He showered quickly, using the bath in the hallway upstairs. Jordan's bedroom door was nearly closed, he assumed she was asleep. It wasn't until he was leaving the bathroom, that he heard the sound of her muffled crying. Donning his sweatpants, he cracked open her bedroom door. She was curled up on her side, away from the door, her face buried in the pillow, trying to cry softly. He walked over to the bed and eased down beside her. "Jo?"

She turned to him, her eyes red-rimmed, her face tear-streaked. He took her in his arms and held her for long minutes. "She's going to be okay, Jordan...just fine. Tomorrow night, you'll have her back with you. Won't that be great? She's safe..and tomorrow she'll be back in her bed..."

"I know...I hope. I just keep wondering what if..."

"Don't let your mind go there. Everything's going to be fine..."

"But what about you, Woody...How...?"

"Don't worry," he said, cutting her off. The less Jordan knew the better. He smoothed her hair away from her face. It had grown even longer than it was years ago when he was with the Boston PD. She was letting it fall in waves...and most of the time she kept it loosely pulled back or pinned up. He had watched her take it down a couple of times since he had been back. He could get used to watching that every night. He could get used to helping her take it down and brush it out. "Go to sleep, sweetie. You're going to need everything you've got to get through tomorrow night." He held her and rubbed her back until he felt her body relax and her breathing become soft and even. With a sigh, he tried to ease himself off the bed, until she reached out and pulled him back.

"Stay," she said softly. "Just stay...with me...tonight. I have a feeling we're going to need just to hold on to each other to make it through the next 24-hours."

He acquiesced. He even agreed. Settling down beside her, he pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. Together they fell asleep.

Ten o'clock. It was almost time to go. Hinshaw had snuck in the house earlier, disguised as an appliance repairman. He and Woody had gone over all the details. Jordan had watched the two from the living room. It was obvious that Hinshaw thought a great deal of Woody, and wanted him back in DC as soon as possible. Jordan's stomach had clinched at that remark. Hinshaw left and then Woody began to get ready. He threaded a small wire microphone through his undershirt...it was the tiniest Jordan had ever seen. He then got the rest of his clothes on. Jordan was not happy he didn't wear Kevlar.

"Please, Woody," she had begged, "For me and Meghan?"

On impulse, Woody had bent down and gave her a hard kiss. "That's exactly the reason I'm not wearing it, sweetheart. The instructions said no Kevlar."

"But..."

"No buts. And don't worry. I'm covered."

Jordan gave him one of her patented Jordan stare-downs. "I am," he insisted. "Don't worry. Have you got the duct tape?"

Jordan knew that one of the hardest things she was going to do tonight was take Woody into that guard shack and duct tape his hands and feet. They would be watching her... the kidnappers. She had to do it right. Woody had said so. She didn't know if she could....do that and then turn around and leave him...vulnerable...alone. But those were her instructions, both from Woody and Hinshaw. Take him in. Tape him up. Turn around. Retrieve your daughter. Drive away. Don't look back.

"How will I know if you're okay?" she had asked, after he had gone over her instructions for the fifth time.

He gave her a half-assed grin. "You'll know. One way or the other, you'll know. You just do what I've asked you to do. For once, Jordan, do things my way. Please. This way I will know that you and Meghan are okay. I'll be back in touch with you as soon as I possibly can...but don't be surprised if it's a while. And don't worry. Please. I've done things like this before and lived to tell about it."

She had nodded and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

They drove to the warehouse in silence, once again, Woody at the wheel. As they turned in behind the warehouse, Jordan tried to catch sight of a car...a van...anything that may have her daughter inside...she saw nothing. She had asked the question to Woody through a look.

"She's here, Jo. Don't worry."

Woody turned off the engine and handed her the keys. "Ready?"

Jordan nodded. Woody had never seen her face so pale, or her hands shake so badly. Even with all the harrowing cases they had been on together through the years with the Boston PD, he had never seen Jordan so close to being this unglued...not even chasing her mother's murderer. "Got the tape?" he asked. Again she nodded.

He got out of his side of the SUV and went around and opened her door. "Woody...." She began softly.

"You can do this, Jo."

"I'm scared."

He briefly hugged her, hoping to reassure her. But he whispered in her ear, very firmly. "You will do this. You will be okay. And so will Meghan...because she has a mother who loves her very much."

They walked to the deserted guard shack. With shaking hands, she taped Woody's feet and then his hands. "You know what to do now," he said to her, even more firmly. "Go do it."

She bent down and quickly kissed him. "I know. I'll be waiting for you..." He winked at her and motioned with his head for her to get out of there.

Jordan turned and slowly began to walk back toward her car. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a movement. Turning her head towards it, she saw the slight form of her daughter walking across the parking lot. "Mom?"

"Meghan!"

The child broke into a full run and Jordan scooped her up in her arms, quickly put her in the passenger seat of the car and drove off at full speed, not even bothering to fasten Meghan's seatbelt or her own.