Webb Odyssey Pas Duex
Claire Vincent
Chapter 6
Village Street
Outside of Tabriz
Northern Iran
0335 local time
They continued down the street, heading in the general direction of the boarding house. Neither of them said anything. They were both too overcome with the change in events, wondering if there had been any other way.
Harm looked at Clay as they walked together down the dark street. 'So what's your plan?' he asked.
'I'm working on it.' Came the answer.
Harm had to smile at this, even though the situation did not warrant it. Amy had just been taken away by a group of men, hopefully to get a meeting with Mossari, and to get some answers. Clay had just let her go, but he promised to back her up. Clay had not told Harm how they were going to do this, and Harm was beginning to realize, Clay didn't know how they were going to do this. Clay was grasping at straws, moving headlong from one lead on what happened to his father to another.
'This reminds me of something.' Harm said.
'What's that?' asked Clay, still staring straight ahead, as if the answers were out there somewhere.
Harm smiled again, at the memory. 'When Mac and I were in Russia looking for my father, I was acting just like you are now.'
'How's that?' Clay asked warily.
'I had no plan, we were traveling with gypsies, trying to stay one step ahead of two former KGB agents who were having their own private little war between themselves. We were in the middle of nowhere, and I was going to get on a train heading for Siberia on a tip from someone who wanted me dead. Mac pulled me aside and told me I was running on emotions, not thinking clearly, not handling it as an investigation like I should have been.'
'So you are saying I am acting emotionally and impulsively? Not thinking clearly or rationally?' Clay asked with a touch of anger.
'Yeah, I guess I am, Webb.' Harm answered equally angry. 'You drag us both over here,'
'Hey, she insisted on coming, all right!' Clay said in his defense.
'You just seem to be handling this mission by the seat of your pants, Clay.' Harm retorted.
'Well, you should be used to that, isn't that what you jet jockeys do all the time?' Clay snapped back at Harm.
Harm stopped walking and turned to look at Clay. 'I'm just saying you don't seem to be thinking ahead on this one. Do you have a plan? Do you have back up plans in case something changes? You are a good field agent, Clay, and I do trust you, but step back and think about what needs to be done and how we are going to get there.'
Clay looked up at his friend, and was surprised and touched that Harm had said he trusted him. He wasn't sure he trusted himself right now, after throwing his wife into a den of thieves and terrorists. Harm was right, he had been going from one thing to another, following the path of clues up until now, and it was time to start directing this investigation his way.
'You're right.' Clay said, and turned to start walking down the street again.
'Of course I am.' And Harm turned to walk beside him.
Silence fell between them once again.
After a few moments Clay asked. 'Are you tired? Do you want to go back to the boarding house and get some rest?'
Harm looked at him sideways. Amy was who-knew-where, there was no plan for what to do next, how to find her or Mossari, and Clay wanted to sleep? 'Yeah I'm tired, but there is work to do isn't there? You think you could sleep right now?'
'I'm just checking.' Clay said defensively. 'And No, I couldn't sleep right now either.'
'So where are we going?' Harm demanded.
'When in trouble, you go to the authorities.' Clay stated.
'The police?' Harm asked surprised. What did Clay have in mind, report Amy kidnapped, he thought.
'No' Clay answered with a smirk. 'The CIA.'
Across the street from United International Shipping office
Outside of Tabriz
Northern Iran
0640 local time
Clay and Harm took up surveillance positions across from the United International Shipping office, the 'front' of the CIA office in this sector of Northern Iran.
Bright and early in the morning, Stuart Billings came into the office, looking the typical CIA agent, trying to look like a businessman, Clay thought. Were we all that obvious? He thought to himself. With a nod to Harm a few yards away, the two men crossed the street, and walked into the office together. During the night Clay had made his plans. He told Harm as they entered, 'Just follow my lead.'
The outer office was empty, and Clay and Harm walked right in to Billing's office as he was setting up the morning coffee.
'Billings, we need your help.' Clay said without preamble.
Startled, Billings turned with a questioning look, 'My help with what?'
'Mossari's men have taken my wife hostage.' Clay said with some urgency.
'I told you Webb, we can't help you.' Billings stated.
'You've got to. She is an American citizen being held by a foreign….'
'Webb, I warned you. You and your little party were on your own!' Billings shouted over him.
'I am sorry about your wife, truly, but there is nothing I can do.'
'Can't you contact him, find out what they will do with her, …make sure she won't be harmed?' Clay pleaded. He was putting on a good show of the worried husband, and Harm thought it probably wasn't that far from the truth. He was just staying quiet until he got a sign from Clay that he needed some help.
'They won't hurt her, probably. They'll ask her why you are looking for him. She's cute, Mossari will like her, believe me.' Billings said with a slight smile.
'If that is supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't.' Clay stated. 'You gotta help me.' With each sentence, Clay's voice and attitude seemed to get more desperate.
Harm decided to join in. 'What are you willing to do, can you contact anyone who will help us?' he asked Billings.
'I have no contacts that I can give you. My orders are clear on this, you are working alone, and I am not to help you.'
'Orders!' Clay shouted. 'Orders from who? Who did you call?' he demanded. Clay mind was reeling; Billings had called HQ and told someone Clay was here on a private matter. This may tip off whoever it was at Langley who was trying to stop him. Now time was imperative, before anything happened here in Iran to stop him from getting information from Mossari.
'When you were so evasive at our last interview, I called Langley for instructions.' Billings said. Before he barely finished speaking, Clay was on him, grabbing the front of his coat and pulling him within inches of Clay's face.
'Who did you call!' Clay demanded.
'My superior, Marcus Stillman; he instructed me to neither help nor impede whatever you were working on here. "Stay clear, don't get involved", that is what he told me.' Billings said nervously.
Clay relaxed his grip on Billings jacket just a little. Stillman was ok, wasn't he? Clay had known him for years. He had known Neville. Marcus could have no idea what Clay was doing, or could he? Either way he had not told Billings to stop him at least. Clay decided to let it go for now. Finding out where Amy was taken took priority.
"Tell me where Mossari is, we'll take it from there.' Clay said.
'I cannot divulge that information.' Billings said in his best non-committal agent voice.
Clay's grip on him tightened again. 'Tell me where to find him, Dammit! My wife's life is on the line!' he shouted.
'You should have thought of that before you brought her into the middle of this.' Billings answered sarcastically.
Clay threw him down to the floor and pulled out his pistol. 'Tell me where.' He demanded, pointing the barrel at Billings' head. Billings turned a ghastly shade of white, and sweat formed on his forehead.
This was going too far, and Harm still wasn't sure what was an act and what was real. He remembered the fear and depression Clay experienced when Amy was taken in Iraq almost two years ago. They all felt responsible then, and Harm wouldn't put it past him to demand information at gunpoint this time. 'Clay, that's enough.' He shouted, trying to get his attention.
Clay either didn't hear Harm, or ignored him, but he did change the direction of the barrel. 'Do you play any sports Billings?' he asked as the pistol moved down, above Billings' knee. 'Tell me where I can find Mossari to get my wife back, or you'll never play, or walk regularly again.'
Billings made a soft worried whine in the back of his throat, but he kept his lips closed tight.
Clay slowly moved the hammer back from the pistol, preparing to shoot. 'Where is he?' Clay said in a quite, yet ominous voice.
'Map.' Billings said.
'Where?' Clay asked.
'A map on my desk, green paper, under the stack there.' He nodded toward the desk.
Clay looked up at Harm, and with a jerk of his head, asked Harm to start looking for the map on Billings' desk.
Harm stepped quickly forward and started shifting through stacks on the desk. In the second one, he found a hand drawn map and held it up.
Clay looked up at it, and then looked back down at Billings, 'That the one?' he ask
'That's it.' Billings said with a sigh of relief. 'It's a little rough, but it will get you up to Mossari's compound.'
'Car.' Clay demanded.
'Keys to a jeep parked out back in the top desk drawer.' Billings quickly offered.
Harm came around the desk and found the keys, grabbed them and started toward the door.
'We appreciate the help.' Clay said. 'Sorry for the inconvenience.' Then Clay leaned down, and hit Billings with the butt of the pistol, knocking him out. With that done, he moved away, and started for the door.
Clay and Harm went out the back door of the office, found the jeep and started off down the road. Harm handed Clay the map as he drove out of the village. Questions were swimming in his head, and Harm couldn't wait anymore. 'Was all of that completely necessary?' he asked Clay.
'We finally got Mossari's location, didn't we?' Clay answered in his regular, flat agent tone.
'I can't believe you did that Clay. Were you really going to shoot him to get that information?' Harm asked in disbelief.
'No.' Clay answered. 'I wasn't going to shoot him, I just wanted to scare him.'
'Well you scared me.' Harm confessed. They were both quiet for a moment, and then Harm asked.
'What would you have done if he hadn't given in and given us the map?'
Clay stared out on the road ahead of them. He answered quietly. 'I don't know.'
CIA Headquarters
Langley, VA
24 hours earlier
The Executive received the text message from a secure line on his cell phone that was not part of the phone network of the Agency.
It was from the over eager clerk that worked in several offices in Langley, keeping his eyes and ears open for the Executive on a number of subjects. He had come in very handy. The young man had promise, and was hoping to move up the ranks of the agency quickly. He would be disappointed, thought the Executive, but that harsh realization would come later. Right now, he was very useful, as this last message confirmed.
Message to M. Stillman from S.Billings, office in Northern Iraq. Webb and Harmon Rabb Jr. are there, trying to contact Mossari. Would not give purpose to Billings. Billings waiting for instructions on how to proceed, from Stillman.
So Webb had gone over the Iraq to continue his digging, even with the warnings. And he brought along a friend.
The Executive did some research on his own; found the service records of Harmon Rabb, Jr. for both the Navy and CIA. Like Webb, this man seemed to have had his hand in everything, and had worked closely with Webb for a number of years.
He then pulled up a personnel file on Rabb. Once with CIA, you may not always be with CIA, but CIA always keeps tabs on you. Rabb had gotten married in the past two years. Hmmm.
The Executive grabbed his phone, the one off the CIA network, and made a quick call. Webb and his friends were getting too close. He was tried of this game and Webb had enough warnings now, it was time to act.
Somewhere in the mountains in Northern Iraq
1143 local time
Clay and Harm bumped along the dirt track that passed for a road in these mountains, both wondering if they were finally on the right one.
They had been driving around for hours, trying to follow the sketchy directions that were on the map. They had missed landmarks, and had to back track a number of times, but this seemed correct, since they had come around an outcrop of rock, and saw a tent village on a plateau ahead of them.
As they drew near the road that would take them to the top, several armed men came out from hiding, and blocked the way, with their bodies, and their weapons. Harm slowed down, and as they pulled up to the group of men, more men above them and behind them showed up, completely surrounding their vehicle.
A man with the same size and shape as the figure that had talked to them the night before broke away from the group in front of the jeep, and came around to Harm.
'Ah, impatient Americans. You couldn't wait for us to return the woman?' he said with a wide smile.
Harm didn't know how to answer this, so he just kept quiet. This was Clay's mission after all. 'We just wanted to be sure she was all right.' He answered calmly. 'We don't want any trouble.'
'That is good we don't want any trouble either.' The man said.
He nodded to the group in front of the jeep, ordered them out of the way, then he and a couple others climbed into the back of the jeep, and still grinning at Harm behind the wheel said, 'Let's all go and see if she is all right.'
Harm put the jeep into gear, and started driving up the hill.
Tent of Mossari
Somewhere in the mountains of Northern Iraq
1212 local time
Amy stood quietly, her head bowed a little in proper supplication and respect. But her eyes were busy darting around the tent, noting the number of people, and weapons in sight.
Since her arrival at the compound late last night, Amy had kept her head down, and her eyes open. No one threatened her, or mistreated her, but they all watched her carefully. It probably was not too strange having many people coming and going in the tent village, coming to talk with Mossari, but everyone kept to themselves.
She had been brought to the woman's tent, shown a place to sleep on a large rug and given a blanket. Surprisingly, she was able to get some sleep. In the morning the women shared their food with her, and she waited to see what would happen next. She didn't wait long, mid morning she was taken to the largest tent and shown where to stand to the side and wait for her turn to speak with Mossari.
The tent was large, and well furnished. Beautiful rugs and pillows were strewn everywhere, and there where some chairs also. Mossari sat in one of them, and seemed to hold court. Watching the comings and goings of underlings and visitors, Amy thought it all a weird cross of THE GODFATHER, and TALES OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS. Men came in and talked in low tones to Mossari. They were given instructions, and left.
Mossari was a man of middle age. Deep lines creased his eyes, and around his mouth. Those might have been from age, or from living in the dessert as well. His beard was black, with some streaks of grey, and Amy assumed his hair would be the same, but it was hidden under a plain turban. He didn't look quite look the part of fierce insurgent/terrorist, but Amy knew looks could be deceiving.
After about an hour of standing to the side, the flow of visitors stopped, and aside from a guard of sorts at the door, Amy found herself alone with Mossari.
In Farsi, he called her over, and indicated a stack of pillows on the floor in front of his chair. She sat down on them, as she had seen other visitors do that morning.
Mossari looked at her a few minutes, while she kept her eyes downcast. Finally he broke the silence.
'What brings you all the way here to my tent?' he asked quietly.
Now that the interview had begun, Amy didn't know how to begin with her questions, or how to answer his. She had been so watchful since arriving, concerned for her safety; she should have been planning on what to say. Too late now, she had to start talking, and fast.
In her best-unaccented Farsi she said, 'I was hired to be the interpreter for an American, who was looking for what happened to his father 25 years ago.'
This seemed to surprise Mossari, and he leaned back in his chair with a smile. 'And you think I have the information you and this American are looking for?'
'We hope so.' Amy answered quietly, and cast her head down again, more to think of how to proceed than in a show of respect. This is it, either he will ask some more questions, or turn me out, she thought.
Mossari continued to watch her, then leaned forward and asked, 'What makes you think I can help you?'
'A man you worked with at that time, confirmed you were involved.' Amy answered.
'Twenty-five years ago I was a young man. Idealistic. And I had very little contact with any Americans.' Mossari answered.
Amy was a little afraid to go on, but she had a question to ask of her own. He could very well kill her for asking it though. We have come this far, not to find out for sure would make it all a waste, she thought.
'Did you have contact with Americans held in the US Embassy in Tehran?'
She got him. There was just the hint of a flicker in this eye. Was it surprise at the blunt question, or was it anger at the assumed accusation? But then the flicker was gone, and the smile disappeared and he leaned back in his chair. 'That was all a long time ago.' He said flatly.
'A long time to wonder how your father was killed.' Amy answered back. She shouldn't have said that, she was giving too much away.
They sat staring at one another, sizing each other up. Amy had let some of the 'cards' show; she might as well show them all. This was their only chance to get to the truth.
'The men who hired me have connections.' She stopped short of mentioning the CIA, as a lowly interpreter she would not know about that exactly. 'They said their connections are the same as yours within the US. And they can make those connections difficult for you.' She hinted.
Mossari got the message. Amy couldn't tell if he believed her, or if the threat was even taken seriously, but Mossari had gotten the message. His 'connections' in the US allowed him to operate his business without interference, as long as he kept giving them information on other insurgent groups.
The tent was silent for a long time as Mossari considered Amy's statement. After a few minutes, he nodded to the guard by the door, who immediately turned and left the tent.
Amy wasn't sure what this meant, maybe he was getting reinforcements and she would be dragged out of here in a minute and killed in some deserted, secluded place. Amy watched him go from the corner of her eye, then looked back up at Mossari who was back to staring at her.
Finally he asked, 'What is the name of the man the Americans are looking for?'
Amy swallowed, and let out the breath she had been holding. 'Neville Webb.'
Tent of Mossari
Somewhere in the mountains of Northern Iraq
1315 local time
The quiet tones of Mossari's voice were interrupted by shouts from outside the tent. Suddenly, a group of men burst into the tent, rifles and handguns at the ready. Standing the middle, with hands tied, were Clayton Webb and Harmon Rabb Jr.
Mossari stood up as soon as the group entered, and moved toward the door. Amy stayed seated on the pillows, but looked over her shoulder to see what the disturbance was. When she saw her husband, and Harm, she closed her eyes, and looked away with a look of disappointment.
Clay saw Amy across the tent, and saw her face but did not see the look of disappointment in her eyes. All that registered with him was that she was here, and looked unhurt. The weight that had lodged in his chest since he last saw her, was it only last night, lifted, and he breathed a little easier.
'What is the meaning of this? Who are these men?' Mossari demanded.
The leader who had been giving orders since Clay and Harm were captured described everything to Mossari, ending with, 'We brought them here immediately. What do you wish to do with them?'
Mossari looked at his head of security, and then looked over at Clay and Harm. They both had bruises on their faces, and Harm had a cut lip. He looked back at his man and asked, 'Brought them to me immediately, did you?' The man had the grace to know when he was caught by his boss, and simply shrugged.
Mossari moved away from the group, toward Amy. 'You men came for her?' he asked, indicating Amy who remained seated at his feet looking at her hands in her lap. She didn't trust herself right now to look up at Clay and Harm. She was afraid her anger would show, and throw off their story. She had to wait for Clay's lead, to see what he and Harm were indeed doing here. She thought they would wait for her return, but obviously, Clay couldn't wait.
She heard Clay's voice answering Mossari. 'She is with us. She is our interpreter. I am responsible for her safety and wanted to be sure she was being treated well.'
Everyone waited to see if Mossari would accept this answer, and see what he would do next. He could invite them all to sit down to dinner, or just as easily order all three of them shot right now.
Mossari looked down at Amy, grabbed her arm and brought her to a standing position beside him. He didn't hurt her much, but it was more than just helping her from the pillows. 'You see she is fine. She is unhurt. She told me she was looking for information for one of you, about what happened to your father. Is that true?'
Harm looked at Clay, who nodded and answered. 'Yes. I am trying to find the truth of what happened to him in this country 25 years ago.' He said carefully. Would Mossari give him the answer right now?
Mossari looked at Amy, who was keeping a demure composure through all of this, when she really wanted to do was start screaming at her husband, 'just relax and let me carry through the plan. He was telling me damnit. For once just shut up Clay!' but she didn't dare, not here and not now. Mossari had started telling her the story, whether it was the truth or not Amy didn't know, but she wasn't sure she would get any more out of him now.
Mossari looked back at Clay and Harm, and in Farsi, ordered them to be taken out of his sight. He would deal with them later. With that, his men grabbed and pulled Clay and Harm out of the tent again.
He turned, and went back to where Amy was standing, looking at her very carefully. She stood still, allowing his scrutiny, wondering what would become of her.
Finally he said, 'Is that all you are, their interpreter?'
Not sure to trust her voice she nodded yes.
'Hmmmm.' Was all he said, then, 'We will finish this at another time. I will call for you.' Then he turned and went over to a table and began looking at the stacks of paper there.
Having been dismissed, Amy left the tent, and returned to the women's tent, grateful for the temporary reprieve.
Small tent
Mossari's Compound
Somewhere in the mountains of Northern Iran
2344 local time
The compound was dark, and only a few men were outside going about whatever business Mossari had for them.
Amy was looking around, thinking where would Clay and Harm most likely be? There was a tent down the way from her, the only one with a lamp lit inside. There was also a man, sitting outside the entry to the tent. 'That's probably it.' She thought. Leave it to her husband and Harm to come up here trying to save her, and ending up hostages themselves.
Amy adjusted the bag she had over her shoulder, put the scarf in place over her face, and started toward the tent. She approached the man sitting outside, and greeted him politely in Farsi. He asked what she was doing, not in a threatening way, but just sounding curious. This was a good sign. She told him she wished to see the Americans inside. She had brought them some food. The guard nodded, and then looked away, dismissing her and her errand of mercy.
Amy entered the tent and found what she had expected. One lamp was lit, and hanging from a pole supporting the roof of the tent. Tied to other poles pounded in the ground, with tops up to the roof, sat her husband, and Harm. Both men looked tired, uncomfortable, and unhappy. She couldn't help but smile at them as she came in and withdrew her facial scarf. Amy moved over to where Clay was sitting, propped up against the pole dozing. She lightly stroked his head and said his name to wake him.
'Clay.'
He stirred, and sleepily looked up at her. 'Amy.' He said. Then he remembered where he was, and now she was here, and he completely came alert, with panic starting to move over him. 'Amy! You ok?' he asked worriedly. 'What's going on?'
His startled voice woke up Harm as well and he started struggling against his ties. Amy looked over at him. 'You ok?' she asked.
'Fine. Never better.' He answered sarcastically.
Amy looked back at Clay. 'I'm fine. Everything is going to be all right.' She stated. 'I think.' She added nervously. She untied Clay's hands and handed him some bread and cheese that she had brought in the bag. 'Here, I grabbed this from the women's tent.' Then she went over to Harm, and did the same for him.
Between mouthfuls Clay asked. 'What are you doing here?' he asked angrily. 'How have they treated you? Have you talked to Mossari? Did he tell you anything?'
Amy glanced at Harm with a slight smile. 'Where should I start do you think?' Harm shrugged and took a bite of bread. It was stale, and a little hard and tasted wonderful. He and Clay had not eaten anything since the day before.
Clay kept filling his mouth too, and rifling questions at his wife. 'What do you think you are doing? You are going to get into trouble in here with us.'
Amy shook her head and went to sit close to Clay, but between both of them. She pulled out a jug and passed it to him. 'Here, have some goats' milk and let me get a word in edgewise, will you?'
Clay took a swig and passed it to Harm as Amy began. 'I have been treated like a carefully watched guest, I guess.' She wasn't sure herself what her status was, but she had not been bothered by anyone so far, and she wanted to put Clay's fears to rest. 'I have the freedom of the compound it would seem and I am not followed, but am watched carefully by everyone around. I couldn't tell you what was being reported about me, if anything.'
'What do you think he will do with us?' Harm asked thinking of Mossari.
'I have no idea. But I don't think you are in any real danger, yet.' Amy answered. 'I was let inside pretty easily, but there is an armed guard at the door.' She told them.
Both men took this information and filed it away for reference later.
Now it was Amy's turn. 'Why are you here anyway? I thought the plan was to get to see Mossari, ask our questions and then get out of here. I was doing that.' She stated, and looked right at her husband. 'Don't you trust me, Clay?'
'I trust you completely.' He stated defensively. 'I don't trust him.' Referring to Mossari.
Amy got up and retrieved the empty bottle between the two men, putting it back in her bag. 'I had everything under control Clay.' She said with a certain edge to her voice. 'He swallowed the story of my being your interpreter, and that you two had connections that could make his business arrangement difficult if he didn't answer my questions. Now I couldn't imagine what he thinks of the three of us.'
'Did he tell you what happened? Does he know who killed my father?' Clay asked hopefully.
Amy looked him in the face. 'He was telling me when you two barged in interrupting us.' She said in exasperation. 'I don't know now if he will talk to me again or not. He may send us all away without finishing, or he may shoot us at dawn, or he may shoot you two and keep me. I think he likes me.' She said uncomfortably.
'She has a point Clay. Your timing, as usual was lousy.' Harm chimed in. 'What should we do now?'
Clay looked at him, then up at his wife. There was only one thing to do. 'We have to stay here for now. Tie us back up.' He said.
'What?' Harm asked surprised. 'That's your plan?'
'Harm, we can't fight our way out of here, we are out gunned and out manned. If we sneak out, Amy will be the primary suspect for who helped us, and her life will be forfeit.' Amy was kneeling behind Clay again, retying his hands, but less tightly this time. 'If all three of us disappear into the night, I will never find out what happened 25 years ago.'
'I guess.' Harm conceited as she came around and did the same for him.
'I have to stay in Mossari's good graces so he will see me and tell me the full story.' She said.
As she got up to leave Clay asked. 'What has he said so far?' eager to hear anything that may start answering some of the nagging questions about his father.
Amy looked down at him, unsure of what to say. 'So far, it is a long and involved story. Though I think he is telling me the truth, there is a lot he has yet to tell me.' She glanced at Harm. 'I'm sorry to leave you like this.'
'We will be all right.' He assured her. He hoped it was true.
Clay stopped her as she stepped toward the door. 'Amy, tell me.' She knew he was desperate for information, but what Mossari had told her so far was hard to believe as truth and she wasn't ready to give Clay only part of the story. 'Not now, Clay; there isn't time. I will try and see him again in the morning and let him finish. Sit tight, don't make any trouble, and I will do what I can to get us all out of here with our necks intact.' Then she was gone.
George Washington Hospital
Maryland
1143 local time
Sarah Mackenzie Rabb stepped out of the hospital doors into the bright sunshine, glad to get some fresh air after being cooped up in the doctor's office for the past hour, getting poked, and jabbed, and scanned.
The baby was doing fine, and she was doing fine, but was still on bed rest for the duration of the pregnancy. That was fine. She was happy to hear that it was helping, and everything was going smoothly. She wished Harm were here so she could tell him, but he would be home in a couple of days. He and Clay had promised. She hoped they were finding the information on Clay's father.
She was pulling out her car keys as she walked toward the parking lot. She was going to pick up some cleaning, and maybe some lunch, she was hungry, again. And then head home and have a nap.
She was looking for her car, and watching for other cars driving through the lot, when a good-looking older man approached her, smiling at her. She was getting used to the attention of strangers, everyone seemed to put on a kind sort of smile when seeing a pregnant woman. She smiled back and he said, 'Mrs. Rabb?'
This surprised her a little, how did he know her name, but that thought went right out of her head as she felt the end of a gun pushed up to her protruding abdomen and he took tight hold of her arm. He was looking all around, smiling but whispering in her ear, 'Let's not do anything foolish Colonel, and you and your baby won't get hurt.'
Sarah was too scared to say anything, her mind racing on what she could do. Had she been in her usual Marine physical condition, she could easily take him on, gun or no gun, but she wasn't willing to risk hurting her baby. He had obviously assumed that.
He walked her over to a dark sedan and pushed her inside. Keeping an eye on her, and the gun pointed at her from his side, he walked around the car, got in behind the wheel and they drove off.
End Chapter 6
Want to see how I tie all this together? So would I, stay tuned. Probably two more chapters to go.