Chapter 4
The guard had been startled when he'd answered what he'd expected to be Jaime's knock on the cell door - and instead he'd been cold-cocked by Michael (his chains only adding to the impact). Steve shook him awake and the guard groaned...and quickly took inventory. ''He's got my keys,'' he gasped, ''my handcuffs...and...my gun!''
Dear God...NO! Steve pleaded in his head. With just those few minutes' head start and access to the NSB's vehicles, Steve knew that Michael could quickly remove Jaime from the range of the listening device...and take her anywhere he wanted to! And with a weapon, he'd ensured she'd be less likely to fight back (if she dared try at all). Steve took the stairs in one bionic bound and ran for the parking garage, relaying information via datacom to the control room as he went. He arrived just in time to hear tires squealing madly out of the garage - the car already around the corner too quickly for him to have caught even a glimpse.
The horrified men in the control room had to tell Steve what they'd just overheard - but they had no idea how to break it to him.
''Move it, Jaime,'' Michael snarled (after knocking out the guard). ''If your husband catches up to us, I swear I'll shoot him!''
The men listening on the speaker could hear footsteps moving down the hallway - and at one point, the sound of a shove - and then Jaime's voice, still clear and even, as the footfalls hurried up the stairs. ''Michael, you don't have to do this,'' she told him. ''Let's turn around right now...and I'll help you -''
''You'll help me straight into a prison cell - isn't that right? Forget it, Jaime! And you'd better move faster. I'm sure Steve is on his way down here right now. Do you want to watch him get shot? Because don't forget I'm OSI-trained. I won't miss!'' The sound of a large ring of keys being rifled through came across the speaker. ''Here's a key - for that one -''
''The blue one?'' Jaime asked, trying to drop any clues she could to the control room.
''Dammit; don't try to be smart!'' The sound of an abrupt slap was heard, followed by Jaime's sharp cry of pain. He rifled through the keys again. ''Here's another - for that one - and don't you dare say a word or we'll just wait right here for your soon-to-be-deceased husband. Get in the drivers side.'' Two car doors opening and closing in rapid succession were heard on the speaker. The car's engine turned over and Michael and Jaime sped out of the garage, tires squealing, just seconds ahead of Steve's arrival.
The men in the control room sprang into action. Hansen directed his best team to the garage to ascertain - as quickly as possible - which vehicle was missing so a vehicular APB could be issued. Oscar was already on the phone with the State Police, calling for an APB on Michael. Steve had returned, bereft and worried out of his mind, to the control room - and he, Russ and Mark were left to listen in mute horror to what little was still coming in over the speaker. Michael was cunning - and deviously intelligent. He was giving them absolutely nothing to go on.
''Not one word, Jaime,'' Michael instructed. ''Don't even make a sound. I know you've got a new 'device' in your ear. And Steve, if you're listening - and I'm fairly certain you are - your wife is mine now! I hope you kissed her goodbye this morning!''
Knowing that Marchetti would be unable to hear him (but praying that Jaime still could), Steve grabbed the mic. ''Sweetheart, try not to let him take you out of range. Every agency on the West Coast is looking for you. We will find you! Stay strong...I love you.''
''Michael, I -'' Jaime began.
Michael waved the gun in the direction he wanted her to turn. ''This way,'' he ordered. ''And we'll have plenty of time to talk later. For now, I want you to drive. Just drive. Got it?'' He pressed the gun firmly into her still-healing ribcage to emphasize his point. Jaime nodded. A few more miles and she was sure they were now out of her ear piece's range. She was in serious trouble without anyone to guide her through it. In spite of the training she'd received from Oscar, Steve, Russ and various experts over the course of the last month or two, Jaime was suddenly very afraid.
He had been preparing for this day, for this possible eventuality, ever since it had become clear that Jaime would be staying with her husband. Michael had managed to amass everything he thought he might need in a cabin he knew the OSI was unaware of. An old 'junker' of a car that was hardly the sort of vehicle a doctor of his standing would choose was merely the beginning of his plan; soon he was behind the wheel of the beat-up brown Chevy, with Jaime out cold in the backseat - her ear piece removed and her body severely weakened by a specially-chosen 'cocktail' he'd injected her with at gunpoint. When they reached the cabin, he'd make more permanent adjustments to her power packs, able to take all the time he'd need. Jaime was truly his now, and no one - not even Steve Austin - was going to take her away!
''We've got our vehicle,'' Hansen announced to the assembled group. ''Abandoned behind a warehouse in the Northwest sector. So we at least know the direction they're traveling.''
''Or were traveling,'' Steve said miserably. ''Marchetti could've doubled back and gone in any number of directions, just to throw us off. And he's taken her out of range...so we have no way to track them, no vehicle to watch for...nothing whatsoever to help us find my wife!''
Oscar had extended the APB to encompass all surrounding states (and the Mexican border, in case Michael should try to sneak Jaime across into Mexico) but inwardly he knew that Steve was right. For now, they had little-to-nothing to go on. Their best hope (unless some sort of lead could be found) was that Jaime might still be able to find her own way out of the situation.
Jaime opened her eyes to find the world spinning crazily around her. A hand brushed against her face and a voice was speaking to her - Michael's voice - sounding like he was coming through a misty, enveloping, stifling fog. Except...he wasn't talking to her; he was talking...to Steve!
The men in the control room - now more of a command station - looked up in unison from their tasks when the speaker suddenly crackled to life. ''Austin?'' Michael's voice dripped with the sound of evil intentions. ''Guess who this is? Bingo! I've made some adjustments to this nifty little earpiece that I think you'll appreciate. I've increased the range dramatically, after removing the tracking portion, of course. Oh, and it's only a transmitter now...so don't bother with the microphone. She won't be able to hear you. But you'll hear her - you'll hear us- any time I choose. Won't that be fun?''
Mocking laughter taunted the men in the command center - and tore at Steve's heart - until the transmission abruptly ended.