5.
Laurel snuggled closer in Tony's protective embrace, having cried herself to sleep. The agent had considered and rejected an attempt to wrest control of the speeding van away from the kidnappers. He knew that the young girl in his care would be endangered by his actions. And, if he was killed or seriously injured in the attempt, no one would be there for Laurel Teasdale, to protect her form the two desperate people. He needed to watch and wait for his chance.
Tony stroked the sleeping child's fine blond hair, ignoring the cramp in his leg in favor of the girl's comfort. His lips curled as he considered his situation. He might not have his gun, but he wasn't exactly weaponless. After all, even if it wasn't a Marine rule, he still obeyed. Rule Number 9, never go anywhere without a knife.
He still wore the belt with the extremely sharp knife concealed in the decorative buckle, a Christmas gift from Gibbs that had already saved his life once before. And, in true James Bond fasion, he had hidden a few other toys and tricks on his person that might come in handy.
"What's so funny?"
"Excuse me?"
"I asked you what was so funny, hero." The male kidnapper was sitting in the van jump seat, gripping the arm rest every time the vehicle slid on the icy road. His gun was tucked in his waistband, easily accessible if needed.
"Not a thing, my man. Not a single thing." Although Tony had nothing concrete to base it on, other than his instincts, he had become convinced that the driver was female.
The ski-masked man moved from his seat toward Tony, a disturbing glitter in his dark eyes, only stopped by a sharp command from the driver.
"Leave it! Sit down, we're almost there."
Tony had listened carefully during the long drive, limited as he was in viewing the passing scenery. He had notated the frequent reappearance of certain sounds, such as the rattle of a wooden bridge, and the rough grumbling of a railroad crossing. If he had to guess, the agent would estimate that they were within 25 to 50 miles of the original kidnapping location. It appeared that the kidnappers had been driving around in circles for hours.
"Wake the brat up. Now. Or I will." The van pulled to a stop.
"Laurel? Sweetheart, you have to wake up. We're here. Where ever here is."
"Daddy?" she murmured.
Tony's eyes closed momentarily. That was something he never thought to hear from a child. "No, baby. It's Tony. C'mon, open those pretty peepers of yours."
She blinked and rubbed her fists in her eyes before looking around. "Oh. I thought it was a dream."
"Afraid not, Laurel." Tony looked at the driver. "I think we're getting out now."
"No stupid moves. You get out and walk straight to the cabin. Try anything else and we'll shoot you. Got it?" The driver said, still speaking gruffly in an effort to disguise her voice.
"Yes, ma'am," Tony replied. The reaction was all he could have hoped for.
"He knows! How did he…"
"Shut up! It doesn't matter. He still doesn't know who I…who we are." Now the driver dropped the effort to disguise her voice.
Laurel stiffened in Tony's arms. "Shhh, don't be scared. No will hurt you. Just be quiet and soon we'll be inside before you know it." He hoped she had understood. When Laurel simply clutched his hand tightly in hers, not saying another word, he knew she had.
"Go open the cabin door," the driver instructed her partner. "Cover them from there."
The transfer from van to cabin went relatively smoothly. Tony stumbled at first, his left leg having fallen to sleep. He quickly recovered and kept walking through the light snowfall, his hand holding Laurel's smaller one.
Once inside, Tony guided the child to the well worn couch closest to the fireplace. "Sit right here. I'll see if they'll let me start a fire, warm this old place up." He shrugged out of his jacket, spreading it over the shivering young girl.
He crouched on the floor beside her, watching as the two kidnappers came inside. "It's cold in here. Is it okay to start a fire?"
"You don't need…" the man started to say before being cut off.
"Yes, you may. But move slowly and tell me what you're going to do before you do it. Understand? Your only reason for living is to keep that kid quiet and out of hair."
"Got it." Tony gave a reassuring pat to Laurel's leg before moving closer to the fireplace. Wood had already been laid in the grate along with kindling. It looked clean and used. He pulled the flume open before turning to the woman. "How long since it was last used? I don't want to take a chance of it burning the place down around us."
"Don't worry. The place has been kept up to snuff."
Tony nodded in reply. He took a paper twist from a jar set to the side, using it as a fire starter. "I'll need a match or a lighter."
"On the mantle. You'll find matches in a red and gold container."
Tony raised up slowly, not wanting to give the twitchy member of the pair any excuse to pull the trigger on the gun that was still aimed at him. Tony soon had a cheery fire going, turning to smile at Laurel who bravely smiled back.
"What now?" he asked, settling down on the couch beside her.
"We lock you in here and go make a ransom call to her father. There's no way out other than up the chimney. The windows are boarded over and the front door will be watched by my…associate. You may have the run of the house. There's some groceries in the kitchen, although we obviously weren't expecting a grown man, just two little girls." She pointed to the door. "There's a spyhole that we will use when we require entrance. At a knock, both of you will move to the couch and sit down. Once we see you, we'll enter. If you do not follow these instructions, we will burn the house down with you in it. Do we understand each other?"
"Oh, yeah. Perfectly."
She stared coldly at both of them before turning on her heel and leaving. Her partner followed, slamming the door shut.
Tony waited a few moments before getting to his feet and prowling through the spacious cabin. There were two bedrooms, a bathroom with a Jacuzzi-style tub, a small kitchen and dining area, and the room where Laurel waited patiently for him to return.
"Want some juice, hon?"
"I need to use the bathroom, Tony," Laurel replied primly.
"Story of my life, waiting for my girlfriends to get out of the bathroom." Tony grinned as she giggled on her way past him.
He helped himself to a small container of grape juice and some cookies, sitting at the well-worn kitchen table.
When Laurel reappeared, he offered her another drink which she accepted. "You recognized the woman, didn't you?"
She nodded vigorously. "It was Ms. Giles, my daddy's secretary. She doesn't like us. Me and Clarissa, my sister. After mommy died, Ms. Giles tried to get daddy to send us to boarding school."
Tony winced. That was a familiar story in his own life, only it was his father doing the sending away. "Your daddy didn't go for that?"
"Nope, he got really sad and told her that he needed us and we needed him. She wants to marry daddy, but he isn't interested. I think he likes our nanny, Jennifer."
"Yeah? Is she pretty?"
"Sorta. I think so, but not like that lady you were with. Jennifer's pretty inside."
"That's where it counts." Tony tapped Laurel's button nose with his forefinger. "I need to find a way out of here."
"I know a way."
"You do? How?"
"This is my daddy's hunting cabin. It belonged to his great great grandfather. There's a tunnel under the house that leads into the woods. It was to escape from the Injuns and bandits that roamed this area. That's what daddy says. Nobody knows about it but the family. Not even Jennifer."
"A tunnel? Hmmm, we might be able to use that. Where is it?"
Laurel took Tony and pulled him by the hand, leading him into the larger of the two bedrooms. "It's under the rug. You'll have to move the bed. It's really heavy. It's sitting right on the trap door." She grinned up at Tony. "Daddy didn't want me using it when Rissa and I play hide and seek. And sometimes I would slip outside in the evening. I love being in the woods, especially at night. You can hear the owls flying through the trees and the mice scurrying through the dead leaves on the ground."
Tony impulsively gave her a hug. "Does the Wicked Witch know that you're a tomboy?"
Laurel giggled again. "Nope. Whenever we visited the office we would be all dressed up and we had to be quiet as mice. Of course, mice really aren't that quiet."
"I never thought of that. You're right. If they're not squeaking, the wheel they run on squeaks."
"Tony? Are we leaving now?"
The agent shook his head. "Not yet. But soon, I promise. We have to have a plan." He grinned in delight. "It'll be just like The Great Escape, only without a motorcycle."
"What's that?"
"What's that? What's that? It's just the greatest wartime escape film ever made. Practically everybody who was in it went on to big acting careers. Steve McQueen, Charles Bronson, James Garner. It was great. You see, there's this group of POWs, prisoners of war, in World War II…"