Chapter 18

CHAPTEREIGHTEEN

Pipe resisted the urge to pace. He held Cora against him as they waited.

After what seemed like hours, but was probably only minutes, Owl swore. “Something’s definitely wrong,” he said.

Pipe didn’t argue. How could he when everything within him was screaming that the situation was FUBAR? He pulled out his phone and typed out a text to Stone. He hit send, but to his surprise, after a few seconds, a notice came up that the message hadn’t been delivered. Pipe clicked on the message and tried to send it again, with the same result.

“Bloody hell,” he swore, clicking on Stone’s name. But the phone wouldn’t connect. “Owl, can you get a hold of Stone?”

His friend pulled out his phone and clicked a few buttons, then looked at him. “It won’t go through.”

Pipe’s lips pressed together. He didn’t need the hair standing up on the back of his neck to know they were screwed.

“Jammer?” Owl asked.

“That would be my guess,” Pipe agreed.

“What? What’s jammed?” Cora asked.

“The phone signal,” Pipe told her in a voice that sounded much more calm than he felt.

“I thought that kind of thing was just something made up from the movies,” she said.

“Unfortunately, it’s not,” Owl told her.

“Obviously,” she said, sounding very disgruntled. “They aren’t going to let us see Lara, are they?” Cora asked.

Pipe sighed and shook his head. Although seeing Lara was the least of their worries at the moment.

“Shit!” she said. “Right, so…fuck them. What now? Go out there and kick Creepy Guy’s ass? Search the house? What’s the plan?”

“Get the hell out of here and come back with the cops, like we probably should’ve done in the first place,” Pipe said grimly. He was an idiot for letting Cora accompany him and Owl to the house. He’d let her desperation to see her friend outweigh his common sense. And now she was in the middle of an unknown fucked-up situation.

He headed for the door, grabbed the doorknob and twisted—but froze when it didn’t move. Pulling on the door didn’t help either.

Fuck. They’d been locked in.

He knew he shouldn’t have let Carter close the door. It went against everything he’d ever learned in his training. But he’d been trying not to rock the boat. To piss the man off before he produced Lara.

It was a mistake that could cost the woman her life, and possibly cost them their own.

“Bloody hell!” he swore, turning to Owl and Cora. “Locked,” he said unnecessarily.

Pipe hated seeing the fear on Cora’s face. He was so stupid for blindly following Grant. He should’ve known he and Michaels wouldn’t simply change their minds about letting them see Lara. He was obviously rusty if he’d been fooled so easily. And Cora and Owl might pay the price.

They’d showed their hand, and Grant and Michaels were probably right this moment hightailing it out of there. Possibly with Lara, if she was even still alive. At this point, that was looking less and less likely. His heart hurt for Cora.

Looking around, Pipe tried to get his bearings. Ran through their options in his head. Unfortunately, there weren’t a lot. As a typical media room, there were no windows to let in light or, in their case, escape through. Pipe wasn’t even sure if there was an exterior wall. For all he knew, this room was in the middle of the building, so busting through a wall wouldn’t do them any good. But if there was even a remote possibility they could get out of there, he’d take it.

But first…he pulled his firearm from the holster at the small of his back. He gestured to Cora with his head, indicating the other side of the room. “Step back, love.”

Her eyes got wide. “What are you going to do?”

“Shoot out the lock,” Pipe said flatly. Discharging his weapon would not only alert Grant, Michaels, and anyone else in the vicinity that he was armed, but it would let them know that whatever their plans were, they were fucked.

Owl stepped forward and took Cora’s elbow, pulling her backward and moving so he was standing in front of her. Pipe nodded at his friend then turned back to the door. It had been a while since he’d been at the firing range, but he was a good shot, always had been. He raised the weapon and aimed it at the lock. He shot off one round…

And immediately swore when the bullet ricocheted.

He dropped into a crouch and saw Owl pulling Cora down with him. Of course, it was way too bloody late to try to dodge a bullet. But thankfully, none of them were hit by the ricocheting projectile.

“Fuck!” Owl swore.

Pipe was too pissed to respond.

“What happened?” Cora asked in bewilderment as she slowly stood.

“The door’s steel,” Pipe answered.

“Oh, shit. This was planned, wasn’t it? I wonder how many other people they’ve trapped in here.”

Pipe kind of wondered that too, but at the moment, he was more concerned with breaking the hell out. He hoped maybe one of the other employees in the house had heard the shot and would come investigate, but he doubted they’d be so lucky. Grant and Michaels had clearly thought this far ahead, so he guessed the room might also be soundproofed. It was the perfect place to put anyone you didn’t want wandering around…or that you wanted to incapacitate.

Urgency hit him hard. He went over to the first row of chairs and yanked on the leather recliner. It didn’t budge. Leaning down, Pipe realized he wasn’t going to be able to move the chair. There were huge bolts keeping it in place.

He heard Cora cough behind him, but he didn’t glance her way, too focused on looking for some sort of tool to try to break through the drywall.

Walking to the top of the tiered platforms, Pipe peered at the projector on the wall. To his disappointment, he didn’t see anything there that would be useful.

“Uh, Pipe?” Owl asked.

“Yeah,” he asked without turning around.

“Something’s wrong,” his friend said.

At that, Pipe spun to see Owl leading Cora to one of the seats. Frowning, he moved toward them. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel good,” Cora said, coughing again, harder.

Then Owl coughed.

Only then did Pipe realize he was breathing faster than normal himself, and his head was pounding. He’d been in plenty of stressful situations in his lifetime and hadn’t ever had this kind of reaction. Of course, he’d never been responsible for the safety of a woman he didn’t want to live without, so he could probably be forgiven for having a more extreme reaction now.

He shook his head—and immediately regretted it as he stumbled to the side. He was dizzy.

Cora moaned, and Pipe went to his knees in front of her chair, reaching for her shirt. “Pull your shirt up over your nose and mouth,” he ordered, tugging on the material, trying to help her.

She raised her head, and he saw she had little to no color in her cheeks. But she did as he asked, her eyes huge in her face. “What’s happening?” she asked.

Pipe’s limbs felt uncoordinated as he pulled his own shirt to cover his nose and mouth. When he turned, he saw Owl had done the same thing.

Looking around, Pipe tried to find the source of the sudden weakness in his limbs. He saw nothing.

“Gas,” Owl said, coughing harder.

“Gas?” Cora asked, standing up in alarm.

Pipe grabbed her and pulled her back into the chair. “Stay calm,” he ordered.

“Stay calm?” she echoed almost hysterically. “How can you even say that? We’re being gassed!”

Pipe coughed to try to clear the fuzzy feeling from his head, but it was no use.

“Are we gonna die?” Cora asked.

“No,” Pipe reassured her, although honestly, he had no idea what the assholes who’d locked them into this room had planned.

“I don’t smell anything,” Owl said. “No smell, no taste, and we can’t see any vapor.”

Something niggled in the back of Pipe’s mind. One of the guys on his SAS squad had a unique hobby. When they weren’t on missions, he had a workshop in the garden of his small house. He was an artist, and he made the most amazing metal figures. Some were small—Pipe had one back in his cabin at The Refuge. But his specialty was life-size sculptures. Mostly of animals. He and Pipe had talked once about the process of creating them, and his mate had gone on for almost an hour about the ins and outs of welding and how it worked.

And the one thing that came back to Pipe now, was how the guy had used argon gas to protect the metal being worked on.

He didn’t remember exactly how it worked, or why, but he clearly remembered the conversation they’d had about the dangerous properties of the gas itself. His mate had joked that it was probably one of the best agents to use if someone wanted to render someone unconscious. It was legal to buy and easy to procure.

And argon gas was odorless, tasteless, and completely transparent.

He had no idea if it was being used to incapacitate them right now, but it was as good a guess as anything else he could think of.

And speaking of thinking, Pipe was having a hard time doing anything other than trying not to puke his guts out.

“Pipe?” Cora asked in a thready tone.

He tried to reach for her and almost fell over. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed. “Come here, love,” he said, opening his arms.

Cora practically threw herself at him, and Pipe fell back on his arse, but he clasped Cora against him firmly. She buried her cloth-covered face into his neck, and he could feel her trembling against him.

“Fuck, man,” Owl said as he slumped in the chair next to the one Cora had been sitting in.

For the first time in his life, Pipe was truly terrified. He’d been through some scary shit in his previous career, but nothing was more frightening than the possibility of Cora being hurt. He felt himself swaying and knew it was only a matter of time before they were all overcome by the gas. Once they were unconscious, he had no doubt the bodyguard would return…and who knew what would happen to them then. What would happen to Cora.

Ridge Michaels had already kidnapped one woman, and done who knows what to her. There was no telling what he’d do to his Cora.

And she was. His. Right then, with all the bullshit stripped away, Pipe knew what was truly important. Cora. His friends.

He’d always looked death in the eye, ready to give his life for the greater good, the safety of others. And he’d had no doubt the men fighting at his side had felt the same way. But things were different now. He didn’t want to die. Didn’t want Owl to die. And he certainly didn’t want anything to happen to Cora.

As a last-ditch effort to do something, Pipe shifted until he could get his phone out of his back pocket. His fingers shook as he clicked on Stone’s name. He needed to tell his friend what was happening. Get help.

But as he stared down at the text string, he frowned.

Oh, yeah, he’d already tried to contact Stone and the message wouldn’t go through. Bloody hell, he was so confused. He needed to get up. To do something. But he couldn’t seem to move. His limbs were heavy, his head hurt, and he felt as if he was going to hurl.

Looking up, he saw Owl sitting in the chair with his head back, his eyes closed. That seemed like a fine idea. He was so tired. A nap would be good.

Pipe leaned back, keeping Cora in his arms as he did so. She snuggled against him, and he smiled. Yeah, he liked when she curled into him. He remembered that so vividly from this morning. Except now, oddly, their bed was much harder than before.

It didn’t matter. He was so tired, he could sleep anywhere.

He’d just close his eyes for a moment, then he’d get up and do whatever it was he was supposed to do. And he definitely needed to do something…but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember what. He was simply too tired. And dizzy.

The room was deathly silent as Pipe slipped into unconsciousness, a boneless Cora in his arms.

* * *

Stone tried not to panic. He kept hoping that any second now, Owl, Pipe, and Cora would reappear. But the more time that passed, the more he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Something had gone wrong inside that house, and he had no doubt that his friends were in trouble. He should call 9-1-1…but what would he tell them?

He could do what they’d planned to threaten Michaels with, ask for a welfare check.

But something told Stone he didn’t have time for that. Michaels had every right to deny the cops entrance, and it would take way too long for them to get a search warrant. No, he had to do something now.

Stone’s hands started shaking and he couldn’t help but think of a different situation where he’d felt just as helpless. When he and Owl had been prisoners.

Once upon a time, he’d been a cocky son-of-a-bitch who didn’t think anyone could ever get the drop on him. Then he’d found himself being held hostage. Tortured. That experience had changed him. Made him doubt his abilities.

It took a moment for his head to clear, to shake the memories of the pain and absolute terror he’d felt as a POW.

Stone straightened in his seat. He had to do more than simply sit on his ass. Pipe, Owl, Cora, and even Lara, if she was still alive, needed him to figure this out. To do something.

He realized he was holding his phone so tightly, his fingers were tingling. An idea came to him. Stone had no idea who the unknown person was who kept saving the day, but maybe, just maybe, they would have some sort of idea on how to reach his friends. His fingers flew over the keyboard.

Stone: I can’t get a hold of Pipe or Owl. They’re inside the house already and my texts and calls aren’t going through.

Unknown: Shit. Okay, give me a second.

Stone didn’t know what the person needed time for, but he felt better already for having shared what was happening.

After what seemed like forever, but in reality was only a minute or two, his phone vibrated again.

Unknown: Bastard has a signal jammer, but I’ve disabled it. Try to get a hold of them again. Now.

Stone had no clue how the hell the person knew about the signal jammer from wherever they might be, but he wasn’t going to question it. He was also a little annoyed by the bossiness of the unknown stranger, but since he was helping, Stone couldn’t complain.

Stone: Owl, get the fuck out! Now!

He waited a moment, but Owl didn’t respond. Neither did Pipe when he texted him. He replied to Unknown.

Stone: They aren’t answering. What’s the FBI’s ETA?

Unknown: Keep trying. You have to get them out of there. I don’t know when the FBI will arrive and Carter Grant is not someone you want near any female, under any circumstances.

Stone gritted his teeth, unsure how he could get them out. He had zero intel. Didn’t know if the arrival of Owl and Pipe had put the entire household on high alert. For all he knew, there were a dozen people just waiting to take him out the second he tried to break in. If anything happened to him, it could mean the end of any hope for his friends.

He continued to try to get a hold of either Pipe or Owl. He called, he texted. He tried Cora. All with no luck.

But his calls weren’t going straight to voicemail anymore, and the texts seemed to be going through. That was both encouraging and terrifying. The latter because despite going through—his friends still weren’t answering.

He chose to focus on the little glimmer of hope, which gave him the motivation he needed to keep trying.

Pipe and Owl were smart, they’d figure out a way to outmaneuver Michaels. And when they did, Stone would be waiting to get them the fuck out of there.