Chapter 15

FIFTEEN

FRIDAY, 9:45 A.M.

"I'm going to let Ivy work with McGregor on the investigation."

Indecisive Caleb had decided, and the matter was resolved. Juliette watched Caleb rise from the restaurant booth and walk toward Agent McGregor. Despite her being in the protection business, she was doing a terrible job at protecting her heart.

For starters, when had she fallen for her client? One peek in Caleb's dark brown eyes and all common sense vanished. She watched him stroll with confidence across the restaurant and slide into the booth next to Ivy while she mentally inserted herself into their future. Because being with Caleb these past few days had made her long for more chances to spend time with him and Ivy. When they weren't running from drones.

What would it look like to be a family? They were a team. His strength of intelligence and logic balanced out her irrational emotions. He made her feel complete, whole. Plus, she admired his reliance on God. If she were honest with herself, she wanted that kind of faith. Loosening his grip on Ivy took guts.

She shook her head as if that would get her mind back on her job. But Caleb's and Ivy's lives depended on her sharp skills.

Juliette made her way back to the group's table and slid into the booth next to Caleb and Ivy.

"I'm willing to hear you out, Agent McGregor." Caleb stared the man down. "I can see the merits in Ivy working with you. But I need a plan to keep her safe."

They listened to the agent's plan to flush the hackers out from behind their computer screens. "The goal is to have Ivy text Layna and get her to agree to meet in a public place. We'll have undercover agents on standby to take Layna down when she shows up."

"It's not going to work," Juliette announced, louder than she'd intended. "If Layna's with Rushmore, she has inside knowledge of the drone attacks. You don't think they'll see the FBI coming and smell a trap?" If the FBI was going to risk Ivy's life, they needed a rock-solid plan. This mission was deadly, and it relied on the acting skills of a twelve-year-old. Could Ivy sell this?

The wooden chair creaked as McGregor shifted to Ivy. "We'll need to make Layna think that you want to defect to her side, that you're ready to work with Rushmore. I believe if you agree to meet, they'll think that they've won you over. Especially if you're rebelling by ditching your uncle."

Ivy chimed in. "I can text her to meet me after school by the bleachers where I met her last time."

The man shook his head. "I think a public park nearby might work, and I like your thinking. But Layna needs a reason to trust you. She has to be convinced that you want to work with Rushmore."

"I can pull the whole teenage moody thing and tell her I'm fighting with Uncle Caleb. That I'm tired of being under surveillance and am sneaking out to meet her at the park."

Caleb blanched, and Juliette felt the same queasiness over Ivy calling the shots and creating an elaborate lie to catch a criminal. And she did it with such ease.

McGregor pulled the phone—the one Layna had given Ivy—out of his jacket pocket and set it in front of him. "We made sure there aren't any trackers on the phone and set it up to show a fake location."

He slid the phone toward the center of the table. "I think you need to go bigger. Let them know you want to be a hacker and work for Rushmore. What is something that would prove your loyalty?"

Ivy reached across the table and took the phone. Her fingers flew across the screen. She put the phone down and slid it back to Agent McGregor. "Does that work?"

He retrieved the phone, read her message, and smirked. The agent flipped the screen so Caleb and Juliette could see it.

Meet at the park across from school. Noon. I'm done with my uncle holding me back and want to show the world what I can do. I'm all in. I can disable Cyberskies' security system.

"I'm not really going to do it, Uncle Caleb. I just need her to think I'll betray you to work with Rushmore. I know Layna will believe me. Please let me do this."

Juliette shivered at how easy it was for Ivy to concoct a plausible story, as if lies just rolled off her tongue naturally. The power of a genius mind in the petite twelve-year-old body. If only she didn't have to grow up so fast in a world that played loose with the truth.

There was no way Caleb would allow her to?—

"Okay," he said, his voice a whisper. And just like that, Caleb consented. On the outside, it seemed like he'd made peace with the decision. But inside Caleb's genius mind, Juliette knew, grief and anger were churning up a storm.

The agent passed Ivy the phone, and she sent the text to Layna. Within thirty seconds, Ivy had a response.

"She said she'd be there. I'm in." She said it with no hesitation in her voice. The girl reminded Juliette of herself. Always ready for the call of duty without a second glance at the consequences.

And now she saw why taking risks sometimes shot terror through the hearts of those who had to stand on the sidelines and watch.

God, please be with this girl.

"Is there enough time to get agents in place?" Juliette said, checking her watch.

Agent McGregor stood. "I'm going to make some calls. It's a shorter time frame than I was thinking, but I've had agents on standby working on nothing but this case. I'll get everything set up."

He turned to Caleb. "Will you two bring Ivy to the park and drop her off maybe a block away? We'll have agents trail her as she walks to the meeting."

"What about the car we stole?" Ivy asked.

McGregor chuckled. "I had an agent deliver a new car for you. It's parked right out front. We'll compensate the owner of the car you borrowed ." He passed a set of keys to Juliette.

They headed out of the restaurant. Alana wanted to get a jump start on security and headed off to let Savannah PD know about the operation. Juliette, Caleb, and Ivy headed to a nondescript four-door sedan and got in.

Juliette followed Agent McGregor's car and watched her FBI tail in the rearview mirror. The plan was that once they got near the school, the agents would fall back a bit, in case someone was watching the area.

Caleb sat in the passenger seat, typing away on his laptop while they drove.

"Uncle Caleb?" Ivy's small voice came from the back seat.

He paused his typing and craned his neck toward the back seat. "What's up?"

Ivy sniffed. "You know I have to do this. If I can help the agents, then I need to. But I can't do it alone. Remember? I need your help. And God's. You taught me that."

Juliette stiffened, because that was the same lecture he'd preached to her all those years ago.

"Right," Caleb replied. "But I'm not sure putting you in danger is the best way to bring about justice."

"But what if it is?"

He turned in his seat so he could face her. "Maybe you're right. You're smart, Ivy, and if you can help and feel that it's the right thing to do, I'll support you a hundred percent. I've got your back."

Juliette could see Ivy's smile in her rearview mirror.

"And maybe Uncle Caleb should take a piece of his own advice," Juliette said. Caleb swiveled his head toward the front of the car. "I know you're trying to track these hackers on your own, outside of the FBI. Make sure you don't forget that you're part of a team. My team."

Agent McGregor's car ran through a yellow light, but Juliette stopped. They were about two miles from the park. So far, she hadn't spotted any trouble. But now she'd have to catch up to the agent's car. He'd probably pull off and wait for her.

The light seemed to take forever, with cars stopped at all four intersections. Maybe her suspicious mind needed a rest. But after a minute of sitting at the intersection with all cars at a four-way stop, her bodyguard senses kicked into overdrive. "Something's not right," she muttered at Caleb, whose fingers hovered over the keyboard.

He didn't say anything but commenced typing. For a former Army analyst, how could he be so oblivious?—

"They hacked the lights," Ivy said. "Didn't they?"

Caleb nodded. "They're in the system and changed those lights to mess with our protection."

Juliette's stomach clenched. She checked her rearview mirror to confirm the agent was still behind her. "We need to get out of here. They're coming for us."

She pulled into the intersection, but it was too late. Two trucks raced toward them. One T-boned the FBI agent that had been following them.

The other headed straight for them.

* * *

FRIDAY, 11:45 A.M.

Caleb's mind processed the scene as if it were happening in slow motion.

The truck barreled toward the driver's side of the vehicle.

Ivy screamed.

The side of the car crumpled around Juliette. Metal creaked and popped as if all the bolts and nuts holding the car together were stretched beyond their limits.

The impact shoved Juliette toward the crumbling center console, almost into his lap. Her seat belt kept her in place, but the whole driver's door pressed inward. The passenger-side airbag deployed, filling the front seat with a cloud of white powder. The impact knocked the wind out of him, and he gasped.

His mind sped up. The movement stopped, but Caleb's stomach continued to somersault. Juliette groaned. He reached over and touched her cheek.

"I'm alive," she rasped.

"Ivy, are you okay?" No response.

Caleb craned his neck toward the back seat. Ivy stared out the side window.

"No, no, no," Ivy muttered. "They're here."

The car door was flung open. A masked man reached in toward Ivy.

Ivy kicked the guy and scrambled across the back seat, trying to open the opposite door.

Caleb tried to extricate himself from the squished front seat, but the side console kept his seat belt from unlatching. "Ivy!"

The man wrapped his hand around Ivy's ankle. She flailed, but he dragged her from the vehicle.

Juliette fumbled with the crushed center console. "It's jammed, and my gun's in there." She smashed the compartment with her fist. "Come on. Open!"

Caleb wrestled with the seat belt. "Stop!" Caleb's scream was muted by police sirens screeching toward the scene. But they wouldn't arrive in time.

The man wrapped his arms around Ivy with her feet dangling in the air. One last sob escaped her before he injected her in the neck with a needle. She fell limp in his arms. Then they disappeared.

"They're too late." With a grunt, Caleb finally untangled himself from the seat belt. "She's gone. They took her."

Tires squealed. Burnt rubber clung to his nostrils, sending his gag reflex into overdrive. The bad guys, with Ivy, backed up their truck and sped off. But not before he memorized the make and model of the truck along with the license plate number.

Juliette beat the console, and Caleb echoed the sentiment. He wanted to put his fist through the windshield. "What are we going to do?" he whispered.

Tears rimmed Juliette's eyes.

He'd lost Ivy.

"I think I can get out," Caleb said. He rotated in his seat. He tried the door, and though it stuck for a moment, with a shove of his foot, it swung open. When his feet hit the pavement, he turned to help Juliette shimmy under the steering wheel, over the crushed console, and out the passenger side door.

The second her feet hit the ground, Juliette morphed into soldier mode. "I'm calling Agent McGregor." She pulled out her phone, and Caleb marched toward the nearest police car.

"CXD8302. Silver Dodge Ram 1500 with a quad cab, 2018 or 2019 model. Right front bumper will be smashed in. Dark tinted window."

The officer had just stepped out of his vehicle. "What? Slow down."

Caleb was about to lose it. "I need you to put out an alert for the truck that sped off with my niece."

The officer had Caleb repeat the information as he took notes.

Juliette put a hand on Caleb's arm. "Agent McGregor is on his way."

"I'm going to go call this in and will be back to get your statements," the officer said, and walked away with his radio to his mouth, relaying Caleb's description of the vehicle.

Juliette spotted one of the FBI agents and took off. Caleb passed her and got in the man's face. "What happened?"

"We were hit by a truck. Same as you. I had to crawl through the back window, just as the truck fled the scene." The man's face reddened. "Sorry, but we were trapped. And my partner was injured in the crash." Caleb wanted to pummel him, but it wasn't this guy's fault.

It was his. Why had he agreed to this plan? The hackers had cut them off before they'd even gotten a chance to implement their plan.

Smoke poured out of the engine of the FBI agent's crumpled car, which had fared far worse than their own.

"This was the plan all along," Juliette said. "They wanted to kidnap Ivy." She wretched like she was going to lose her lunch.

"Are you sure you're good?" Caleb asked. Her face was pale, but she didn't have any visible cuts or bruises on her.

But she'd be beating herself up for losing Ivy. They both would.

"I failed. I didn't see it."

"Stop, Jules. Just stop. It's not all on you."

"We have to get her back."

A car raced up to them, and Agent McGregor was out the door before the car slowed to a complete stop. Other police vehicles and an ambulance pulled up to the scene right behind him.

"Are you two hurt?" The man's concern morphed into terror, probably because Ivy wasn't with them. He ran a hand across his mouth. "They took her?"

Juliette nodded. The veins in Agent McGregor's forehead throbbed like they were about to burst. "I stopped on the side of the road to wait for you, and one of the trucks drove by and shot my tire out."

Agent McGregor put his hands on Caleb's shoulders. "We will get Ivy back. I'll have every agent in the department working round the clock to find her. I'm calling everyone?—"

The man's words hissed louder in his ears than the sizzle of the agent's crumpled radiator. Caleb shook out of the man's grip. "I don't want to hear all your plans. Just get out there and find her."

But Caleb had no confidence this man would find Ivy. Juliette relayed her version of the attack while Caleb's mind spun an intricate plan that would flush these men out of hiding. He had the skills to track them online. And if he could make himself useful to the hacker group, he would trade himself for Ivy. He'd join them if it meant Ivy could walk away from this. Of course, by join he meant he'd exact his vengeance from the inside and take them down.

But he wasn't going to involve the FBI. Or Juliette. He wouldn't ruin Juliette's career or reputation if things went bad. Now to find a laptop. Maybe he could salvage one from Juliette's wrecked car.

Juliette called Alana, and Caleb heard her discuss plans to get them back to the Elite Guardians office.

The second she disconnected the call, he pounced. "I need to go back to my place. I have all the equipment I need to track these hackers. I'll make more progress than these guys." Police taped off the area. Agent McGregor stood off to the side, talking with other agents. Probably planning some other lame attempt to find Ivy.

No, he was Ivy's best shot. "We need to get a car. Can Alana pick us up?"

Juliette hit the mute button on her phone. "We should head to the office to regroup. I'll get you whatever you need to track Ivy, but we've got to get out of the open, and your apartment isn't safe."

A different FBI agent approached, his FBI blazer flapping in the breeze. "We need you to give a statement."

Caleb counted to three, because otherwise he'd punch the man. "We just talked with Agent McGregor. And you should be out there hunting these terrorists and tracking down Ivy, not rehashing every detail we've told the previous agent." He clenched his fists in his pockets to keep his hands busy, because everything within him needed to be at a keyboard, searching for Ivy.

Alana picked them up after what seemed like an eternity and drove them to the Elite Guardians office. Caleb stewed. He didn't relish being social on a good day, and he sat in the back seat, his mind conjuring up worst-case scenarios.

"Once Ivy gives these men what they want, she's expendable," Caleb said. "She could fix their malware, and they could launch it against the bank. I've already sent out messages to the bank alerting them to not open anything suspicious, and Blake is locking their system down. We might need to take all systems offline. But all it would take is for Rushmore to have someone on the inside of the bank to open the ransomware on a bank computer."

"What can we do to help?" Juliette asked.

"I need to call Blake, but I don't want to think about work right now. I just need to get online and see if I can find a clue to where these hackers took Ivy. If they think she can help their cause, they may force her to work on their program. Maybe she'll be online. We have to find her."

At the Elite Guardians office, they offered Caleb an empty office and a computer.

Caleb sat in the swivel chair and stared at the blank screen.

Then he sucked in a deep breath and booted up the laptop. Within a minute, he'd sent a public message to the hackers with an easy code for them to break—and an offer they couldn't resist.

He'd offered himself in exchange for Ivy.

* * *

FRIDAY, 4 P.M.

Ivy's head pounded. The stale air made her gag.

She pushed the haze from her mind and tried to focus. The last thing she remembered was a man in a ski mask grabbing her from Juliette's car. Whatever had been in that needle had knocked her out—for how long? The drugs must still be in her system a little, because even the slightest move made her want to vomit.

Rough carpet scratched her cheek. She reached to feel the fibers, but her hands were tied behind her.

Where was she? The room was pitch black, and she couldn't see a thing.

Ivy stretched her legs and hit what appeared to be a chair. She sucked back a sob, but tears leaked down her face, wetting the carpet. How would Uncle Caleb and Juliette find her?

And what was in store for her?

A door opened, and light blinded her.

"Morning, sunshine."

She squinted and tried to focus on any identifying features of the man, but he was covered head to toe in black, including the dumb ski mask.

Wasn't it a good sign that he didn't show his face? On TV, that meant they might let the person go. So maybe this was a good sign. But the light glinted off the knife in the man's hands, and Ivy shuddered.

She had to convince these hackers that she was on their side. Just like the school play she was in during second grade. If they believed that she could help them, they wouldn't kill her. Right?

"What…what do you want?" Her throat burned, and the words came out all gravelly. Her eyes adjusted to the light, and she saw a desk with a computer and several monitors. The room had no windows and only the one door that the man had shut behind him.

He picked her up and dropped her in the chair. He used the knife to slice whatever was around her wrists. She wanted to rub them but was afraid to move.

Her hair hung in her eyes, the strands trembling right along with the rest of her body. The man spun the office chair around and wheeled her into position in front of the three monitors. The wooden desk was bare except for the computer equipment.

The guy bumped the mouse, and the monitors sparked to life. She recognized it instantly—the malware program. Designed to freeze all of the bank accounts and let the hackers take control of the bank.

"We know you can finish the coding." The man's voice was deep, as if he was trying to disguise it. It sounded vaguely familiar, but even with her eidetic memory, voices didn't always stick with her. And she might have never run into this person before.

The man took something out of his pocket. Some sort of remote control. He clicked it and a clock on the wall lit up. 60:00.

"You have one hour and no internet access. Don't try anything. We will know. If you don't finish in the hour, we will kill your uncle and then you."

"I can't finish this in an hour. It will take me days?—"

The man turned and left the room. Ivy heard the lock click, and she let out a deep breath. She would rather be alone than with a masked knife-wielding stranger, but how was she supposed to concentrate on coding with Uncle Caleb's and her lives on the line?

Her fingers shook over the keyboard. Bile rose in her throat. If she complied, would it actually keep her uncle safe? These men couldn't be trusted. The clock flickered and changed to 59:00.

She'd better get started. Maybe she could make them think she'd completed the program but keep a flaw in it so they couldn't do any damage with the program. Or better yet, she could sabotage the malware to attack the hackers' system.

Ivy poked around in the computer, well aware of the camera with the blinking red dot above her shoulder. They'd know in a second if she got online. But if she could…

"Ah, man." The bad guys had jammed all signals. There wasn't a thing she could do about getting online. Where were they keeping her?

A beeping sound came from outside her door. It sounded like a truck.

The only source of light came from the monitors and the countdown clock. Ivy turned away from the screen and blinked a few times. Better. Now she could make out the layout of her prison. A bed was shoved up against the back wall, across from the door. Besides the desk, there wasn't any other furniture.

But sounds were definitely coming from outside her prison. She spotted an air vent at the top of the wall, above the bed.

She pulled up the program the men wanted her to work on and started making some keystrokes, in case they were monitoring her activity. But the air vent might be her ticket out of here.

Voices filtered through the room. She strained to listen. The vent must lead to a hallway or another room. She stood and acted like she was stretching. If she got on the bed, she'd be under the camera pointing at the desk. Maybe she could hear something useful that might help her get out.

She stood on the bed, under the vent, and waited.

Two people. A man and a woman were having a conversation on the other side of the wall. How long would it take for them to notice that she wasn't at the desk working?

The man's voice rumbled. "He'll come. He'll do anything to rescue his precious niece."

The woman responded. "We'll draw him out. Set a trap with Ivy as bait."

No. No. No. Uncle Caleb would come to her rescue. She needed to warn him. But without any connection to the outside world, how could she get him a message?

The camera moved, and she sat down on the bed and forced herself to cry. It wasn't too hard. All she had to do was think of Uncle Caleb, devastated by showing up somewhere only to find that Ivy wasn't there.

And then the bad guys would kill him.

She swiped at her face as the camera panned over her. Time to get back to work.

She sat back at the desk and started typing. The door was flung open, and a different masked man returned.

Not a man.

A woman. She was smaller, and Ivy smelled perfume.

She stopped typing. "I need more time. I can't finish in an hour?—"

The slap came hard and fast. Ivy grabbed the chair to keep from falling over. Her cheek was on fire, and tears fell from her watery eyes.

"You now have thirty minutes to complete this task. No more stalling."

Ivy held a hand to her cheek and stared at her abductor.

But the woman had made a mistake. Ivy could see out the open door. And she caught a glimpse of where they were keeping her.

She had to send a message to her uncle. He needed to know that Rushmore had set some kind of trap for him. The only way she could get a message to the outside world, someplace her uncle would find it, would be to launch their program. Uncle Caleb had taught her a special code when she was younger. If she could add a hidden message to the program, the bad guys might not understand it. Hadn't they lost their programmer?

It was worth a shot, but it meant the bad guys got what they wanted. But they might kill Uncle Caleb if she didn't finish the program. So either way, she had to work for them.

But how long until Uncle Caleb and Juliette found her?

Because the clock on the wall now showed thirty minutes.