Chapter 17

DOWNTOWN ABU DHABI, UAE

Davis nailed the accelerator, begging the Jeep to beat the GPS-predicted arrival time. In the backseat, Fury panted heavily. Paced back and forth, his whine piercing the road noise. On Corniche Street, traffic started to slow. "C'mon, c'mon," he muttered, yanking the wheel around one car. Darting behind another. Gunning it. Dang, he needed another route. He took an opening between cars and swerved onto Al Bateen. The dash screen rerouted.

"Find her yet?" He spoke to Benn and Glace through comms, eyes on the road.

"Negative," Benn growled, clearly ticked off.

Davis didn't blame the guy. They didn't have time for this. What had Hollyn been thinking? He tugged his tie free. Undid the top button of his shirt. Stretched his neck. Better.

Looking in the opposite direction, a lady stepped off the curb to cross the road. Her head jerked his way, and the headlights lit her wide-eyed expression.

"Come on!" he yelled. Punched the horn and swerved around her.

It'd been years since this level of panic had amped him up. But this was Hollyn he was talking about. The one person he wanted to protect more than anything in this life and was failing at right now. Squeezing the wheel, he knew what he had to do.

"Okay!" he prayed aloud. "You've got my attention now, all right?" He felt dumb verbalizing this but continued. "I can't do this without Your help. I get it now."

He swung around a BMW.

"Please," he continued. "I need You to get me there before anything happens to her. I'm sorry I've been MIA for so long thinking I could do everything on my own. Just . . . don't let her pay the price for my silence."

Immediately, something he couldn't quite put a name to flared to life in his chest. He'd take that as God letting him know he'd been heard. His resolve not to let this end badly doubled. Hollyn put her trust in the Big Guy. It was time he did too.

Streetlights splayed over the windshield like a blinking bulb as the Jeep barreled down the street. Davis swung in and out of traffic.

Fury whined his feelings near Davis's ear.

"Same, bud."

They took another couple turns before pulling alongside the curb. Davis threw the vehicle in Park and shot out of the driver's seat to release Fury. His eighty-pound beast surged from the vehicle, whipping Davis around and racing down the street to where Benn and Glace were waiting in the shadows across the alley from the hospital.

"Still nothing?" Davis ran after Fury toward the team.

"She left her phone in the car when she bolted," Glace updated him. Then handed him the baseball hat Hollyn had taken with her when they left the safe house. "Also left this, but there was no way to track her without the dog. We lost eyes around the corner there." She pointed toward LLH Hospital. "We've searched but found no trace of her."

"Thinking she's close by," Bennion said. "Could be in the apartment building, but it'll take time to search."

Davis frowned. Nodded curtly at the implied time we don't have tag. "Fury will find her." He keyed his mic. "Alpha Actual, update?"

"Negative visual."

This wasn't adding up. Maybe he and Hale had gotten it wrong.

Locals eyed them with keen interest, likely due to the M4s Bennion and Glace were carrying. They murmured to each other in Arabic. No doubt the authorities would show up soon. The team needed to move.

As if on cue, Blank's steady voice came over comms. "Two, Three, and Seven, be advised: multiple emergency calls to ADP about suspicious gunmen. We count three ADP response vehicles en route and closing fast."

What he wouldn't give to have her drone in the area instead of at the hotel.

"Let's go," he said to the team members. Leaned down so Fury could sniff the baseball cap.

The shepherd sniffed it intently. Nosed it around, tail still as he took in a few deep whiffs of scent.

"Seek-seek."

Fury's head dropped and tail went up. He tracked in a circle before taking off in the direction Glace had indicated earlier. Pacing his landshark, Davis watched him plow scents along the street. Could feel the team hustling behind them.

Between the hospital and another tall building, the sidewalk widened and the crowd thinned. Gasps and yelps seemed to push the pedestrians from Fury's pace. They were smart to give him a wide berth at this point, but it definitely wasn't the way he'd hoped this would go down. Probably get their butts chewed out by Chapel once this was over.

"Someone call the police!" one person shouted in Arabic.

"Already did!" another replied.

Great.

Fury tracked, unfazed by the chaos and the complaints about his presence. Zigzagging down the path—once trotting toward a woman who dropped her purse as she scrambled away, afraid he was coming for her—he worked the scent cone. Paused now and then only to press on a second later. Around the corner, an alley opened up behind the Golden Tower. Aptly named seeing as every piece of the structure of glass reflected like sun in a brilliant gold.

"K9, update?"

"Fury is tracking a scent, but nothing yet." No signs of Hollyn, no proof she'd come this way. But Fury's nose never lied. The shepherd's scent cone narrowed rapidly, leading him straight up to a back door. He shoved his snout against the threshold and hauled in several long draughts. He eased back and pawed it. Jumped up on his hind legs and pressed before dropping and spinning in a tight circle. He looked to Davis and barked.

"Here!" Davis spoke to the others. Lowered his weapon and inspected the handle. Looked clear. And Fury hadn't planted his backside to indicate explosives. He gripped Fury's lead and nodded to Bennion, who took point and breached with Glace behind him to clear ahead. Davis trailed the duo with Fury.

Two dim lights lit the hallway. At the first corner, an earsplitting alarm rang out.

Benn swore. "Move, move!"

They jogged forward. Cleared the corner just before screaming sounded from the upper floors. Doors slammed and the rumble of dozens of people running could be felt. It mingled with the piercing screech coming from the alarm. Fury seemed to sense the urgency and sped up his track.

Davis followed his partner, watching for any alerts. Prayed Hollyn was here and he wasn't too late.

Benn nodded toward the staircase and paused.

Everyone in the building was about to be headed their way.

* * *

Street noise from several stories below the apartment room filtered in despite the thick glass. From her place in one of the corners, Hollyn glared at Archie as he paced back and forth.

"Hollyn, please hear me out." He took a step toward her.

"Hear you out?" She balked, adjusting her stance to reduce the strain on her shoulders from having her arms hooked around a marble column, hands zip-tied on the other side. "Look at me! You have me tied to a column. You killed my parents. And you want me to hear you?"

He huffed. "You were always too smart for your own good. That column is insurance. I don't want you to get hurt trying to escape."

"Is that a threat?"

Archie faltered. "No—that's not . . . I didn't mean?—"

"What kind of monster are you, doing this to someone who called you friend, took you on trips, spent countless hours debugging your code?" she growled, her throat raw. But who cared? "What did my parents ever do to you to deserve being murdered? What did any of us do that you'd betray us?"

He took another step. "Nothing?—"

"Exactly!" she spat. "Yet you couldn't help but seize your chance to steal from us to make a buck." Hollyn strained against the zip ties but felt her shoulders scream in protest. "I can't believe I ever trusted you! You snake!"

His face went ashen and he slumped back. "I don't expect you to understand."

"Well, good! Nothing you'd say could make this okay or bring my parents back!" Hot tears pricked her eyes, and she blinked them back. She was so far beyond shedding another tear for him. Time for another tactic. "Be thankful I'm tied to this column."

A smirk said he wasn't concerned about what she could do to him were she freed. Anger bubbling, she focused on the ties. She'd prove to him he had something to worry about. The zip ties caught on a notch in the marble. Hope leapt. If she could just use that nock in the marble . . . maybe she could wear down the integrity of the ties, break them. Just like she'd do to him. The coward!

"It's not going to work," Archie said quietly.

Hollyn gritted her teeth. Kept going. A burn started in her wrists where the sharp edges of her binding bit into her skin. What was a burn if it kept her alive? Determination dug deeper.

"Stop!" he yelled, launching forward.

She started, meeting his gaze briefly, but then resumed. If he wanted her to quit, she'd try harder! She refused to quit.

"Hollyn, it's never going to break. Give up."

Glowering at him, she didn't.

"Fine." He lifted his chin, anger darkening his eyes. "But we both know you're never going to break them like that."

In fact, she did know. That's what ticked her off more. Here she was, trapped with the man responsible for murdering her parents and destroying her life, and she had no way to get free. No way to tell Davis or the others where she was. No digging herself out of the hole . . . the one she'd jumped into.

Looks like you're shouldering your fair share of the blame, Hollyn.

Arms aching and burning, she slowed to a stop. Slumped against the column and shook her head. Studied the guy she'd considered a friend. Worked with. Laughed with. What had possessed him to do such a horrible thing to her and her family? She knew things like that were as unanswerable as existential questions, but . . . she had to know. "Why did you do it?"

Brown eyes slowly dragged to hers, and there, for the first time, she saw . . . apology. Regret. It permeated his posture. He dropped into a chair. Tapped the armrest in that irritating way of his that always drove her mad.

"Why!" she demanded.

"My sister." He pushed his glasses up. Stared at her as if that explained everything.

"Your sister what?"

He huffed and bent forward, shoving his thick black hair from his forehead. The curls hooked together and stayed in place but made him look slightly crazed. "She was diagnosed with a condition I can never pronounce, and it'll take hundreds of thousands of dollars to treat. No insurance will touch it. Too risky."

She wasn't exactly unfeeling, but how did his sister's life take precedence over her parents'? Over her own? She guarded her expression when he looked her way, not wanting him to think she was caving.

"Yes, I stole from you," he croaked out. "But it was to help her." His eyes turned to muddy pools beneath unshed tears. "I didn't realize who or what I was getting involved with until it was too late."

This . . . this was the side of Archie that had made her befriend him in the first place. But still . . . "People buying black-market data don't typically live by the golden rule, Archie." He had to see that, right? "It's not rocket science."

"In a way, it is . . . okay, missile science." He looked miserable as he paced to the windows. "You aren't telling me anything I haven't already told myself a dozen times over. But . . . Leila threatened both of my sisters if I didn't help her get the rest of the code."

"Why didn't you just tell us?"

"Tell you what? That I was a thief?"

"Yes! Something. Anything! You had every chance in the world." Hollyn tried to keep calm, be understanding, but it was difficult. The if-onlys bouncing around her brain were shrieking at her. She could think of a dozen different paths he could have chosen. Hugging the column, wrists and shoulders aching, she slid to the floor. Rested her head against the cold surface, feeling defeated. Frustrated. Secretly hopeful that Davis and Fury would come barreling through the door . . .

"I'm sorry," Archie said quietly as he slumped against the wall. "I'll never be able to tell you that enough."

"Save it. I'm not interested." Who knew if she could even trust his words? Maybe he was just playing her again, manipulating her to get what these other people wanted. "How does Braum fit into all of this? What she said before—did . . . did she kill him?"

Archie nodded. "She makes good on her promises."

Which meant she only had till Leila came back to get free. "Help me escape."

"Are you crazy? I can't do that!" Eyes wide, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose again.

"Seriously? So what you said about being sorry—that was just a load of garbage?"

He started pacing again. Looked at the screens on the wall.

Hollyn couldn't see Leila in any of them—or anyone else she recognized, for that matter. "So, letting her kill my parents wasn't enough—now you'll let her kill me too?" She sniffed. "Guilt is going to be your only friend when this is all said and done. And if you think she'll really do anything to help your sisters, you're out of your skull." Her heart was pounding. She had to get him to help her, or she was as good as dead.

"Stop talking!"

A sharp siren pierced the rest of his sentence, and Hollyn ducked, forehead brushing against the cold pillar. Wished she could press her hands over her ears. "What is that?" She tried to think. "Is it the fire alarm?" Pushing to her feet, she tried to shift around to see him. "Archie! Please—help me!"

But he just darted to the screens, frantically searched each. For what, she wasn't sure. Could hardly think straight with the screaming alarm. Hollyn started rubbing the zip ties up and down again. "Archie!"

He turned. "I can make this right. I'll show you."

Never. He could never make this right.

"Wh—"

He ran across the room to the door. Before she could yell his name again, he was gone.

"No, no!" She panicked, gaze skidding around the room, trying to find something, some tool to free herself. "Please," she cried out to God, "I don't want to be burned alive."

So this was it? Whether by Leila or a fire, she was going to die?

Hollyn jerked her hands, trying one last time to get free, but the ties wouldn't budge. It was no use. A ball of emotion lodged in her throat as she stopped fighting. She couldn't free herself, and no one was going to find her in time. Bouncing her legs, whimpering, she yanked again on the ties. Daggerlike pain sliced into her wrists. Warmth slid across her inner forearm.

Defeated, she broke down crying. Why? Why had all this happened? It wasn't fair! She'd tried to create a technology to help people! Now Mum and Dad had died for it. She would die! Tears choking her, she could only think about her parents. They'd been so senselessly robbed of their lives. The only people who'd ever cared about her, who'd adopted her, made her their own. And they were gone. And now she'd never know a life with Davis.

I didn't even have the guts to tell him I loved him.

That ache bloomed across her chest, tightening. Squeezing. If she could just have one more chance . . . but no. It wasn't coming. No one was coming. Because nobody was promised tomorrow. How many times had that been proven throughout her life? Enough to believe it.

Through teary eyes, she scanned the room. Saw through the far window that night had stolen into the day. Oh, she wished to see the stars one more time.

Her gaze hit the door. Was there smoke? She sniffed. Didn't smell anything . . . "Help me!" she screamed, and gave a hard yank on the ties. Cried out as the ties became like scalpels, slicing into her wrists. She rested her cheek on her arm and cried, tugged again. The pain was too much. But if she stayed, she'd die. Alone.

It always ended up that way, didn't it?

Could she . . . reach something? Maybe from the desk. Blinking around her tears, she eyed the table . . . papers there. The desk below the wall of TV screens. Shoot! Nothing to use. The grating claxon hammered her head, made it ache. From the hall came the thuds and screams of people running. It was going to be the last thing she ever heard. How depressing was that?

No. She wasn't a quitter. Never had been. But what on earth could she do? She rotated herself around the column, again searching for something to help her break the zip ties. She bobbed in frustration, desperate to be free.

She was not dying like this!

"God, please!!"

Wait wait wait . . .

Her knife.

Leila's guards had taken it off her once they got inside the room. With more focus this time, she shimmied around the column, searching the table and desk. Recalled hearing it clatter against a surface. She prayed it was still here.

Not on the desk. Or the table. Defeat punched her in the gut.

Of course it wouldn't be. They wouldn't have left?—

A glint snagged her attention. She sucked in a breath and strained to see by the chair in front of the screens. There! It'd fallen. And thank God, because they'd have probably pocketed it.

"Thank You!" she cried.

Without wasting a second, Hollyn lowered herself to the ground. Stretched out on her stomach. Reached with her toe toward the chair. Inched closer to the beacon of hope. Screams and thuds pounded the hall. Thankfully, no smoke filtered under the door yet, but that might not mean much.

Her shoe connected with the blade. She sucked in a breath. Applied pressure and tried to drag it backward. The sole of her shoe slid over the blade. With a grunt, she tried again. Lengthened her body out as long as she could be and felt the sting of the zip ties digging into her flesh. Failed again.

Thumping her head against the column, she cried. It was useless. She was useless. She'd been right—she would die alone. Those she loved always . . . left. One way or another.

"It'll be okay, Hol." Davis's words played in her head. Gave her an iota of strength to build on. She had to believe that. It wasn't over till it was over.

Growling into the pain, Hollyn stretched . . . stretched. Pinned the hilt this time. Slowly, firmly drew the toe of her shoe toward herself. The knife surrendered. Exultant, she had to force herself to stay calm, keep the blade coming closer. Once she got it close enough, she hiked onto her knees. Angled awkwardly to get the knife even closer. Then she stood and nudged it to the column. Again, shimmied around and went back to her knees, grasping the blade. Relief rushed through her, and she took a moment to let herself shudder a few tears.

Okay. "Now for step two." She winced as she slowly, carefully manipulated her hold on the knife so she could saw through the ties. One wrong twitch and she could lose control of her only chance at escape.

Carefully—so carefully—she tried to work it into a solid grip but couldn't get the right angle. Man, her head was throbbing from that stupid alarm. With the lack of smoke, she was starting to wonder if someone had pulled it on purpose.

Worry about that later. Refocus.

"Come on," she muttered.

Finally! Had the knife firmly in hand. She positioned the blade under the zip ties—fingers trembling—and started to saw. When she glanced up, she froze. Squinted for a better look at one of the video feeds. Was that . . .

Davis! And Fury!

A relieved whimper scampered up her throat. But where were they? She realized then she didn't even know where the feeds were coming from. But by the look of the laminate stairs and the sea of people fleeing in the opposite direction, Davis was here. In this building!

"Davis!" she screamed. Oh my gosh. They were here! Looking for her. She wasn't alone. Hollyn watched them jog up a flight and then another, Benn and Glace close behind. Just the sight of them gave her confidence that she'd be rescued.

So happy, she nearly lost her hold on the knife. Barely recovered. "Focus!" she told herself as she started rubbing the blade along the plastic as best she could. Which wasn't great considering the only angle she could get made it difficult to apply much pressure. But it was a start. She'd take it.

Hollyn kept an eye on Davis. He and Fury would disappear from one security camera just to appear in another. Then the miracle came—she saw him stalking down a hall . . . and heard heavy footfalls. A keening. In the hall.

"Help!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, even though the fire alarm masked most of her voice. "Davis! Help! I'm here!"