Chapter 20

CHAPTER20

The sulfur smell hung thick in the night air. Marin’s captor had his hand pressed against her mouth, making it impossible for her to avoid breathing in the disgusting odor. She gagged as he hauled her through the darkened water treatment park. He released his hand briefly, but when Marin started to scream, he slapped his palm over her mouth once again.

“Keep quiet,” the man they called Yerik ordered.

Marin struggled against him. She’d recognized Agent Morgan’s voice shouting out among the gunfire. But Yerik was already dragging her through the warehouse and out into the dark woods behind it when the agents were entering the building. Still, Griffin was close by; Marin could feel him. If she could only yell, she was sure he’d hear her.

Yerik pushed open a door and slipped into another warehouse, roughly carrying Marin with him. When they had reached the center of the building, he yanked her hard against him. He pulled something out of his pocket and waved it in front of Marin’s face. It was a syringe. Marin’s heart skipped several beats.

“Listen carefully, Chef.” His breath fanned against her cheek making Marin gag again. “I told you before you will not die. I must exchange you for Elena. Those crazy Greeks are afraid of your grandfather. He will be the one to free Elena if he wants to ever see you again. But if you scream or call out to your friends, I will be forced to end your life.”

He said the words with no emotion. As though taking a life was as routine as brushing his teeth. Marin stilled against him. Griffin was near. He would find her. All she had to do was be patient and not aggravate her captor. If it meant seeing her family again—seeing Griffin again—she would do anything. Marin nodded.

Slowly, Yerik removed his hand from her mouth. Marin took a gulp of fresh air. She kept her expression contrite as he relaxed his hold on her body.

“You are a smart woman.”

He kept his long fingers tightly shackled around her wrist while he replaced the syringe inside the pocket of his jacket. Marin’s mind raced as she tried to figure out her options.

“What happens now?” she asked softly.

Yerik’s icy gaze slid over Marin. “We keep moving.” He yanked on her arm, pulling her along the row of plastic barrels lining the wall of the warehouse. As they reached the end of the row, Yerik punctured one of the containers with his knife—a weapon that looked more like a miniature sword. Marin’s nose immediately burned from the intense odor of chlorine. Shoving Marin through the door, he turned and tossed a lit match onto the spilled liquid.

His knife pressed into Marin’s side. “Run!” he commanded.

Marin knew enough about chemicals and fire to follow orders. They were fifty yards away when the warehouse exploded, lighting up the night air. She heard the sound of a siren going off and vehicles moving in the direction of the warehouse and it seemed he was leading them toward those sounds. Marin gladly kept up the pace, hoping they’d confront someone who would rescue her.

The sulfur smell was now mixed with the nauseating smell of burning chlorine and Marin’s breath burned when it sawed through her lungs as she tried to keep up with Yerik. Twice, she stumbled on the dirt road. Both times, he nearly dislocated her shoulder as he jerked her back to his side. The noises from the fire faded as the hum of the giant generators processing the dirty water became louder. A truck sped by them and Marin’s heart leaped. But the driver hurried on, seemingly on the way to the blazing warehouse.

Yerik steered them onto another dirt road. This one weaved between the giant water treatment tanks. The humming became louder, vibrating against their feet as they ran. He was careful to keep their bodies in the shadows, dodging the spotlights wherever he could. They stopped in front of a ladder attached to one of the tanks and Marin quickly glanced around. She saw the unmistakable red beam of a security camera across the path from them. Her grandfather’s hotels had similar models on their exteriors. The ones used by the Chevalier hotel chain were also motion sensitive. Marin prayed these cameras were the same. While Yerik pulled down the ladder, presumably so they could climb to the top of the water treatment tanks, Marin pretended to slip. She kicked her heel along the dirt, creating a mini-dust cloud.

“Sorry,” she said in response to Yerik’s angry glare. “I tripped.”

She winced painfully when he jabbed the knife into her side.

“Up,” he commanded.

Marin slowly made her way up the first two rungs of the wide metal ladder. After the incident in the parking lot earlier, Yerik was clearly no longer underestimating Marin’s physical capabilities because he barely ceded her an inch as they climbed in tandem. Once at the top, Marin was hit with another wave of intense nausea at the heavy chemical smell rising off the water as the turbines stirred the contents of the tank. She dropped to her knees on the concrete, trying to catch her breath.

Yerik wrenched her up by the ponytail again and it was all Marin could do to keep from falling off the ledge as he led her around to the other side of the tank. The fire was blazing out of control in the distance, creating an eerie glow in the night sky, but the noise from the purifiers drowned out any accompanying sound from the flames. A blast of fresh air blew off the Potomac when they reached the other side and Marin gulped in a lungful.

He gestured to a metal platform that looked like a fire escape. In the dark, it was difficult for Marin to see down to the ground. She took the steps carefully, the two of them zigzagging their way down to the bottom of the tank. When Marin’s eyes adjusted to the blackness, she realized they were in some sort of courtyard created by the positioning of the four round water tanks. Yerik led them over to a shed directly in the center. He took his knife and jimmied the lock. Inside the small room was a row of blue jumpsuits, hard hats, and safety glasses.

“Get in,” Yerik ordered as he shoved her inside. “Put on a jumpsuit.”

He followed her into the shed, releasing her hand as he pulled the door closed behind them. An interior light came on just as the door shut. Marin sat down gingerly on the bench; the scrapes on her knees burned when she bent her legs. Yerik tossed a blue jumpsuit at her.

“Hurry.”

Marin’s fingers shook as she unzipped the garment. She paused for a breath trying to calm down. Yerik had said repeatedly that he’d keep her alive, but the syringe in his pocket—not to mention the nasty knife he held constantly—wasn’t very pacifying to Marin’s shaky nerves. She decided to try something she’d learned in high school psychology—become friends with her captor.

“Who is Elena?”

Yerik was visibly startled by her question. He paused in the act of pulling on his jumpsuit. Marin wasn’t sure, but she thought his icy expression might have softened a bit at the sound of the woman’s name.

“Get dressed,” he commanded once his stoic composure had returned.

She pulled one of the pant legs over her shoe before giving her tactic another shot. “She must be important to you to go to all this trouble,” Marin murmured.

He was at Marin’s throat in an instant. “She is very important! She is my life!”

Marin’s heart thundered in her chest as she stared into Yerik’s icy eyes. But the glimmer of dampness in the corners of them buoyed her to continue.

“You love her?” she whispered.

Yerik’s fingers twitched on her neck. He didn’t speak for a long moment. Suddenly, he released her, moving back across the shed to continue pulling on his jumpsuit.

“Your grandfather had better love you as much,” he said menacingly.

Sliding her arms into her jumpsuit, Marin continued with her questioning. Perhaps her captor would say something—anything—that would help her escape. “My grandfather loves me a lot. He’ll trade me for Elena. But why is your wife with the counterfeiters in the first place?”

He grabbed two hard hats off the shelf. “Elena is not my wife. She is my daughter.”

His words surprised Marin. She wondered how old Elena was. Her mind raced back to the earlier conversation with the Greeks in the warehouse. From what Marin could gather, Elena was the artist creating the counterfeit money. The same one Griffin was hunting for. Had the counterfeiters kidnapped her somehow?

“And she’s an artist?” Marin asked.

He nodded as he handed her one of the hard hats. “Very talented.”

“If she painted the forgeries in the White House, then, yes, she is.” Marin figured buttering him up couldn’t hurt. “I’d love to see some of her original work.”

Yerik faced her wearing a grim smile. “I know what you are doing, Chef. But you are not my friend. You are simply a means to an end.” He grabbed her wrist tightly. “We go back the way we came. Don’t try anything foolish.”

* * *

Griffin was still tapping the computer keyboard when an explosion nearly knocked him to his knees.

“Clear the area!” Agent Reynolds yelled. “That’s chlorine gas coming from the warehouse.”

The team from Homeland hustled the Greek prisoners into one of the vans. Adam and Leslie jogged to their vehicles with their teams to suit up in additional protective gear. Griffin followed reluctantly, panic gripping him as he imagined Marin inside the burning building.

“He’s creating a diversion,” Adam reassured him. He handed Griffin a rebreathing device. “He’s taken Marin somewhere else. It’s what I would do. Create a crowd and then disappear into it.”

After attaching his mask, Griffin checked the computer again. Still blank.

“Ben,” Griffin spoke into the communication headset in his helmet that allowed him to receive radio contact from the team and headquarters via the bones in his face rather than his ear canal. The team would be able to communicate without having to inhale the chemicals. “Tell me you’ve hacked into Homeland’s system and you can track Marin’s signal?”

“Almost there, brother,” Ben told him. “I’m also tracking all of the video surveillance at the treatment center. I’m replaying something now, but I’m not sure whether it’s an animal or Salenko.”

“Where?” Adam demanded.

“About five hundred yards from your current location,” Ben replied. “Near the water treatment tank quad.”

“Damn, it,” Adam said. “We won’t be able to get there from here because of the fire. We’re going to have to go around the long way.”

Griffin was already in the driver’s seat of the Humvee. Adam and Leslie jumped in as he was pulling away.

“It wasn’t an animal kicking up that sand,” Ben said as Griffin sped toward the decontamination tanks. “When I zoom in, it looks like a person, possibly two people. Whoever it is, they’re in an area that wouldn’t normally have personnel there this time of night.”

Adam was relaying information to the rest of their unit. He had Agent Reynolds surveilling the area around the fire, still believing Salenko intended to disappear into the crowd fighting the blaze.

The Humvee took the corner near the tank farm sharply.

“We’re of no use to Marin if we’re dead, Griffin,” Leslie said.

Griffin’s gut clenched at the word “dead.” He hoped like hell that Agent Reynolds was right when he said Marin was worth more to Salenko alive. It was the only thing keeping Griffin sane right now. He pulled up to the water tanks, threw the car into park, and jumped out.

“Where Ben?” he asked as he circled the area.

“I’ve got you on my feed,” Ben said. “Take about ten stops to your left.”

He did as Ben instructed.

“There. Something large kicked up some dust right in that spot,” Ben said.

Leslie knelt down to inspect the pattern in the dirt while Griffin searched around the area.

“Up here,” he called to Adam and Leslie as he began climbing the ladder up the side of the tank.

Griffin scrambled to the top of the concrete tank and paused to suck down a few pulls of oxygen from his rebreathing apparatus. Behind him, Leslie pulled herself up, followed by Adam. The three of them stood silently looking around, pivoting slowly so that they could scour their surroundings. Griffin swore violently. Marin and Salenko where nowhere in sight.

* * *

“That’s why you stole the artwork,” Marin said as she trudged alongside her captor. They were walking parallel to a giant dirt field. Unfortunately, their direction took them away from the fire. She’d been puzzling out Yerik’s story for the past ten minutes. “You said the counterfeiters didn’t need her to print the money any longer. So, you stole art from the White House to keep her busy.”

“To keep her alive,” Yerik snapped.

They continued on in silence, leaving Marin alone with her thoughts. Yerik was a father, doing what he could to protect and rescue his daughter. Hollywood made blockbuster movies about the very same subject. Somehow, the fathers in those movies seemed a lot more endearing than the cold-blooded killer walking beside her.

An SUV rounded the corner quickly, its headlights temporarily blinding Marin. The blade of Yerik’s knife tore through the jumpsuit, poking into the skin at her side. She struggled to keep her body from lurching in front of the oncoming vehicle.

“Careful,” he hissed.

The SUV blazed past them, apparently in route to the fire.

“Don’t you want to call my grandfather?” Marin asked once the road was empty again. “I can give you his number.”

“Be quiet.”

“But the sooner you contact him, the sooner he can arrange to get Elena back to you,” Marin insisted.

She was getting punchy. Her body ached and the wounds on her hands and knees stung fiercely. But she couldn’t give up. The farther he took her away from the fire, the farther he was taking her away from Griffin. And rescue.

The blade sliced along her skin causing Marin to stumble.

“I said you’d stay alive, but I can make you wish you were dead,” he threatened.

Marin held her hand to her side, wisely shutting her mouth. Tears burned behind her eyes, but she kept them at bay, not wanting to give this creep the satisfaction of seeing them. A cool breeze blew onto her face. They were walking toward the Potomac, it appeared. Marin prayed she wasn’t going to have to swim in the river again. A jet plane flew low overhead. Marin could see the lights of Reagan Airport across the expanse of the river. Before they reached the shoreline, however, her captor turned them north. He guided her beneath a grove of trees lining the shore.

“Now, we wait,” he said. He sat down on the damp ground, wrenching Marin down beside him.

Marin said a silent prayer that they would wait long enough for Griffin to find her.

* * *

“I’ve got something on another camera.” Ben’s voice permeated the fog of Griffin’s despair. “Two waterworks employees walking toward the river.”

“A lover’s tryst during the night shift?” Leslie asked.

“Maybe, but one of them is wearing pink shoes,” Ben said. “I’m not sure any woman would want to wear pink shoes around this place.”

Griffin exchanged a look with Adam. They both charged toward the ladder at the same time. Adam was over the side first, skipping every rung as he slid down.

“Hey!” Leslie called as she followed them both down. “Don’t you dare leave me!”

“Tell me where, Ben,” Adam said as he got behind the wheel of the Humvee.

Griffin jumped in the passenger seat, leaving the back door open for Leslie. She climbed in seconds later.

“About a mile on the other side of the facility,” Ben said. “They walked past the facilities workshop about four minutes ago. I’ve downloaded the location to your GPS.”

Adam put the car in gear and whipped it around in the opposite direction.

“I need that Homeland GPS up and running, Ben,” Griffin said. “This would be a hell of a lot easier if you could make that happen.”

“Their computer is not being all that cooperative, but I’m working on it.”

“Work harder!”

“Relax, Griffin,” Leslie admonished him. “Salenko hasn’t gotten far. We’ll find him. And then we’ll get Marin back.”

Adam’s driving was making Griffin queasy. Or maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t found Marin yet that was making him sick.

“I’ve successfully hacked into Homeland’s system,” Ben said. “I’ve got Marin’s signal! Keep headed in the direction I gave you.” They heard him swear. “They’re on the move again. And it looks like the cowboys from Homeland are trying to back them into the northwest corner of the plant.”

“What’s up there?” Griffin asked.

“There’s a fence adjacent to the Naval Research Lab,” Ben replied. “It’s either that or the Potomac River.”

Griffin pulled off the mask to his rebreather and tossed it in the back seat. Marin wasn’t as strong a swimmer as she let on. If Salenko planned to toss her into the water, Griffin was going in after her.

“My team is coming at them from the Navy side of the fence,” Leslie said. She’d dumped her mask, as well. “They won’t let them pass.”

Adam steered the Humvee through a field of sand used to filter the water. They went airborne when they came off the other side of the dunes.

“Reynolds isn’t trained in tactical maneuvers,” Adam complained. “He wants Salenko alive, but I don’t think Homeland really knows what the Ukrainian is capable of.”

“Hey, I don’t care about a pissing match between you and some asshat at Homeland,” Griffin argued. “Let’s just focus on rescuing Marin.”

But when the Humvee turned the corner, Griffin’s breath stilled at the scene before him. Beneath the spotlights of the big filtration tanks, there was a standoff between Agent Reynolds from Homeland and Salenko. And in the middle of it stood Marin with what appeared to be a syringe aimed at her neck.