Chapter Four

Steve and Oscar were very lucky, and they knew it. They'd been handed another security tape that was nothing short of a small miracle. Wherever her captors might have taken Jaime, the route led straight past the front of the hospital, and their car had been captured on video, half of the license plate visible as they roared away.

"A partial plate's better than nothing," Oscar said urgently. "I'll call it in." While he was on the phone, Steve uttered a silent prayer, pleading with God and the fates to keep her safe long enough for them to find her.

Oscar was back in minutes. "Plate comes back to a 'Jerome Silva', he told Steve. "Used to be one of Joseph Rona's men, believed to be the one who shot him by accident when they were trying to get you and Jaime."

Steve cringed inwardly. He had worked only one mission with Jaime before her body rejected her bionics, before her 'death', and they'd been lucky to escape with their lives after her hand had malfunctioned and set off an alarm, exposing them. They'd managed to escape through a second-story window, and Rona and several of his men followed close behind them, shooting bullets from every direction. Silva hadn't seen Rona crouching in the bushes in front of him, and he spotted Steve and Jaime very nearby. It should've been a clean shot, and he probably would've hit at least one of them, but Rona had stood up at exactly the wrong instant. The bullet intended for them hit Rona instead, at fairly close range, killing him instantly. His men had gotten away, and had apparently never forgotten who'd caused the death of their boss and mentor. Jaime was in very serious trouble.

"If he worked for Rona," Steve concluded, "then he knows Jaime's bionic. Do we have an address?"

"Home address is in Virginia, but Rona had an old, abandoned storefront that he used as a sort of base of operations. It's less than ten miles from here."

Steve was on his feet and already halfway out the door. Both men checked the guns in their waistbands as they ran for Steve's car.

- - - - - -

Silva's men had quickly overcome their reluctance and were well into the task at hand. Slapping her face had accomplished nothing, so they'd removed Jaime's bonds and were now tossing her roughly around the room and into the walls. Open hands had become fists, and they were landing blow after cruel blow. Silva had told them the sort of information they were to get from her, but things had escalated and she was still telling them nothing. They didn't realize her mind no longer contained the knowledge they were seeking.

Some small part of Jaime's instincts remained with her, though, and she refused to give in to tears or to plead for mercy. She sat on the floor, glaring at them, as they came at her again. She had no idea what they were talking about or what they could possibly want from her.

"Where does Rudy Wells keep your files?" One of them demanded.

"I don't know who that is. What files?"

"Jerry, she's good!" one of the men told their boss, who had reappeared in the doorway. "But we'll crack her." He raised a booted foot and connected it solidly with her stomach. She doubled over, the wind knocked out of her, but instantly sat back up, facing him defiantly.

"Where are they?" her interrogator persisted. "L.A.? Colorado? D.C.?"

"I. Don't. Know." she told him with more strength in her voice than she actually felt.

The man grabbed her by the throat, yanking her to her feet. He drew back his fist to hit her again, but Silva stepped closer. "Wait," he ordered. "That's obviously not doing any good. Put her back in the chair and hook her to our little machine over there."

The flunky hesitated. "Are you sure? I mean, after what happened to the last one we used it on..."

"This is different," Silva responded. "If she dies, we can sell her for parts."

"But -"

"Just do it."

- - - - - -

Steve was filled with self-recrimination and regret as he and Oscar sped toward their destination. He wished he would've just dove toward Jaime and grabbed her. Would've scared the hell out of her, but she would've been safe. She definitely wasn't safe now. Would they see her confusion as blatant defiance and hurt her...or worse? Steve pressed his foot even harder on the accelerator, and prayed.

- - - - - -