Chapter 9
"You know, you could at least do us the courtesy of telling us your name," Vivien said as she glanced back toward the leader. One of his lackeys rewarded her with a gun muzzle shoved into her back that sent her stumbling. Her hands were held fast behind her with shackles, the old fashioned 19th century kind, so she couldn't break her fall.
Sam winced as she hit the pavement.
"Don't even twitch, Mr. Axe, or you're dead."
"I thought your pal wanted me. I'm no use to him if I'm dead."
"True enough. But I think he'd be happy enough with the information on your computer."
"What information? I've got nothing valuable on it."
"Really. We'll find out when we get to our base, won't we?"
Sam shook his head. Other than some racy e-mails from his lady friends and some files he kept from past jobs with Mike, there wasn't anything of worth on it, unless someone knew what they were looking for. That's why he kept it password protected, supported by an app that would wipe the hard drive clean if anyone tried to access something he locked down really well. The files he had on Anson were included in that category, as well as some leads on where Fiona might be. What would these guys want with those files? He had to think outside the box, look beyond the uniforms and the old style weaponry, and consider why a bunch of bad weekend warriors would want them. Could they be connected to Anson? Would he really go through this much trouble to bother with me?
Anson was ruthless. He didn't even blink an eyelash when it came to wasting innocent people. Of all the scumbags Michael had to deal with, Anson was the biggest and the scummiest. And he pulled it all off with that smug clown-like expression on his face that turned Sam's stomach. Just thinking about him made him want to vomit, if he'd anything to lose. Shouldn't have thought about that. I was doing just fine until I remembered that I'm starving. Sometimes, denial was a beautiful thing.
"We're here," the leader announced with little flair.
Sam had been hiking on auto-pilot, not watching where they were going. He could have kicked himself for not being more aware of his surroundings. Yeah, I'm in bad shape if I can't think and survey at the same time.
They stood before a tall stockade fence made of new pine. It ran to the left and right about 100 feet and was capped by guard towers in the corners. The large gates opened, and they were pushed inside. Along the longer fence walls were several buildings. From one of them came the sound of laughter and music. At the end of the fort stood a wooden two story building, which was their destination. Along the way they saw hundreds of small white tents pitched in rows, interspersed at regular intervals with larger officer's tents. Wagons, horses, and gear were everywhere. Women walked among the camp site wearing period dresses, cooking over open fires or carrying laundry baskets and small children. Sam and Vivien glanced at each other in amazement at the care and detail that went into the fort.
They reached the end of the promenade and were marched up the steps into the building.
"Wait here." Their captor stopped them in the hallway, and he pushed Sam roughly onto a bench.
"Mind if I sit, too?"
"Suit yourself, Miss Vivien."
He walked away and left them alone with Jedediah. She glared up at him. "You seemed like such a nice kid. Boy, was I wrong!"
"Sorry, ma'am. Just doin' my job." He even tried to look contrite, which only irritated her more.
Sam felt Vivien's thigh tighten next to his. "Don't do it, Viv. He's not worth it."
"Worth what, Sam?" She fought to keep her voice down. "What do these people want with us?"
"I don't know, but I think I have an idea who wants me. I'm just surprised that he'd bother." He paused. "It's my friend Mike that he really wants, but everybody in his way is just an annoyance to be gotten rid of. He set up Fiona, Mike's girlfriend, and the FBI took her away. I was going to Washington to rub elbows and grease a few palms if necessary to get intel on where she could be. Then this happened. It just seems too convenient for me to..."
The office door opened, and their captor emerged. "He will see you now."
Jedediah used the end of his gun to urge them to their feet. Sam tried to console himself with the fact that the kid only had blanks, but was he really certain of that anymore? Maybe during their hike he switched out and was armed as lethally as the rest of them. He saw the bullets in their leader's revolver. He couldn't assume with this kind of security that he didn't have real musket balls too. The good news was that they had one-shot and they'd have to reload. But if the entire fort was armed for real with over a hundred muskets, one of them was bound to hit their target. No, it was better to just go along with things for now.
Sam let Vivien enter the room first and followed closely behind. The door closed, and Sam was more than a little surprised to see that no one came in with them. They were alone with the man who leaned over a credenza pouring himself a drink. Sam guessed he was playing a general, if the insignia and decorations were any indication. He straightened, eyed Sam watching him, and took a long draw on his whisky before turning and walking silently past them. He stood behind a large mahogany desk, set the drink down, and wordlessly opened Sam's laptop that sat on the desk surface.
"Mr. Axe, would you please give me the password for your computer?"
"Not even my friends know my password. Why should I give it to you?"
"It'll be a lot less painful for you now if you give it to me. If I have to turn you over to Anson," he smiled coldly and continued, "You know he'll get what he wants, whatever the cost."
"There's nothing he wants on my computer unless he wants my girlfriends' e-mail addresses."
The man laughed. "Obviously there's something important on it. Why would you secure it otherwise?"
"I have my reasons. What's yours for getting involved with a snake like Anson?"
"We have mutual acquaintances...and enemies."
"Mike."
"Michael Westen. He and Miss Glenanne were instrumental in taking down a team of Eastern European assassins who were going to make me a very rich man. I could have retired. But because of them, alliances were destroyed, seeds of mistrust were sown, and the only remedy was to get to them and take them down." He grinned. "One down, one to go."
Sam felt a cold lump form in the pit of his stomach. "Fi. You didn't..."
"No, she's not dead yet, but she will be when O'Neal gets a hold of her. He's paid quite handsomely for the chance to make Glenanne squirm before her pretty little throat gets slashed." He shook his head and came around the desk. "Apparently he's more concerned with revenge than profit this time around." He perched himself on the corner of his desk, took another drink, and said, "If you give me what I need, maybe there could be something for you in this...Sam."
"I don't give up my friends for money, or anything else." The steely gaze he gave the man made him slip off the desk and retreat a few steps.
"It's too bad, because you're a nice guy, Sam. You care about people. But come on, do you really want to sacrifice your life for some piddly information on your computer? Or do you want to walk out of here scot free, just for giving up a little password? Look, I've seen the files you had tucked away in the case. If those are just the tip of the iceberg...I think I could get you and Miss Chase out of here in exchange for the password."
Sam refused to answer, because he knew what he had on that hard drive was worth more to his investigation than what this guy could promise. If Anson found what he knew so far, more lives would be in danger. Not just Fiona's, Vivien's and his own.
"He doesn't want you, Sam. He wants Weston. Not just in his custody, but...he wants to ruin him, to get him to the point where everything he loves and protects is no longer able to love him back, and there's nothing to guard any more. Then he will have no choice but to work for Anson and carry out his plans."
Silence buzzed in the room. Sam's jaw set in determination, and in a soft, measured tone, he said, "You can take a flying leap off the Washington Monument, pal."
The man sighed in resignation. "Fine, we'll have one of our experts work on this and figure it out. In the meantime, I hope you find your accommodations pleasant." He opened the door and let in a group of six men who were well armed. They surrounded Sam and Vivien and led them out to the promenade. People stopped and watched as the prisoners were led to a small building made of fieldstone. Iron bars were on the windows, and the door made of solid wood with a sturdy lock.
"Enjoy your stay," Jedediah said as he pushed Vivien inside. She let out a shocked exclamation as she hit the wall opposite the door. Before Sam could fight back, two men pushed him inside, slammed the door and locked it. Through it, the kid yelled, "You'll get your dinner in a little while. Til then, y'all just relax. Have a good time." His compatriots laughed and dispersed to their guard duties, and Jedediah stood at the door. Finally, he had an important assignment, and he wouldn't let his superior officers down.