Chapter 44

Avery’s mindraced as she followed Ryan’s directions to head south on the interstate, toward Tacoma. Her training kicked in, bringing an icy calm. She began to assess her options, calculating the risks and potential outcomes of each move. Ryan sat beside her, his service weapon trained on her, a cold, blank expression on his face as he divided his attention between her and whoever he was texting. She kept her expression neutral, not wanting to give away any hint of her thoughts.

Her eyes darted to the rearview mirror, checking for any signs of a tail or potential backup. Nothing so far.

Avery mentally reviewed the layout of the interstate, trying to anticipate where Ryan might be directing her and what his endgame could be. She hoped her comlink had remained active, providing a lifeline to her team, but she knew she couldn’t rely on that alone.

She snuck brief looks in his direction, analyzing his body language for any clues about his intentions. He was a skilled agent, too. Underestimating him could be a deadly mistake. But she also knew that she had the training and the experience to handle this situation. She’d find a way out of this mess, one way or another.

Though she didn’t dare say anything that might alert him to the fact that she still had her earbud in, she prayed the Lord would find a way to make Ryan sloppy. All it would take was one unguarded utterance that Mason could track …

She couldn’t believe how calm she felt, given the circumstances. Maybe it was because she knew that, for the moment, everyone else was safe. Mason, the team, they were all out of harm’s way.

The only one in danger was her.

Ryan looked completely different than the man she had worked beside for years. Gone was the boyish charm, the easy smile. In its place was a stark blankness, a fury that radiated from him like heat.

How had she never seen it before? How had she been so blind to the truth about him? Until the truth smacked her in the face, she had never believed he could be a mole, not in a million years. And yet, here they were.

Clearly trying to swallow down his panic, Ryan barked out terse directions, guiding her off the interstate and onto a series of winding back roads.

She followed his instructions carefully, fully aware of the comlink still nestled in her ear.

She knew that Mason and the team would be coming for her, but she also knew that they wouldn’t be able to help if she was already dead. She needed to find a way to convey their location without giving away the comlink, to buy herself some time until they could reach her.

Two exits later, Ryan ordered her off the interstate and into a large industrial area smashed between the highway and a swampy lagoon that bled into Puget Sound. The industrial spaces bustled with activity, giving her a moment of hope, but he quickly directed her around the back of the largest development. Now there were only soaring concrete walls on one side, and the boggy shore along the other. Except for the discarded fast-food wrappers caught in the weeds, there was no sign of human inhabitance.

He directed her to pull off onto a narrow, rutted track that led down to the water’s edge. The tires crunched over the gravel and loose stones, each jolt sending a shudder through the vehicle’s frame. As they bumped along the uneven ground, Avery caught sight of their destination: an old fishing shack, slowly sinking into the marsh that surrounded it. The weathered wood was grey and splintered, the roof sagging under the weight of years of neglect.

The salty tang of the marsh filled her nostrils, mixed with the faint, underlying scent of rotting vegetation. The air was heavy and damp, clinging to her skin like a clammy shroud. In the distance, a seabird cried out, its mournful call echoing across the desolate landscape.

“Stop here,” he ordered, his voice cutting through the oppressive silence.

Avery’s mind raced as she surveyed the scene. Quiet, isolated, out of sight of prying eyes—the perfect place for a murder. The soft ground would make it easy to dispose of a body, and the constantly shifting tides would erase any evidence within hours.

She was tempted to shove the vehicle in Reverse and floor it. Risking a gunshot seemed slightly less dangerous than allowing Ryan to get her into that shack. Her foot twitched on the brake pedal, her hands tightening on the steering wheel as she weighed her options.

But the moment evaporated as the crooked door to the shack flew open and a young Asian male stepped out, a pistol dangling from one hand. Dressed in baggy pants and a flannel shirt far too large for his thin frame––a style she privately referred to as Gang Casual––the thug’s face brightened when he saw Ryan.

Avery shoved the car into Park. The odds of escaping just went from slim to none.

“Out,” Ryan ordered her, exiting from his side of the vehicle. The damp ground sucked at his shoes as he stepped out onto the marsh.

The younger guy dipped his head deferentially and gestured at the rotting structure, a sly grin on his face. “You like?”

Ryan barely glanced over, his expression unreadable. “It’ll do.”

Avery took a deep breath, the cloying scent of the marsh filling her lungs. All she could do now was keep him talking, try to buy herself some time. “Why are we here?” she asked, her voice steady despite the fear that gripped her. Her skin prickled with goosebumps as a chilly breeze swept in off the water, carrying with it the faint, mournful cry of a seabird.

Ryan smiled, a cold, cruel twist of his lips. “You’ll see,” he said, motioning for her to get out of the car.

She did as he asked, her mind racing as she tried to figure out his plan. Was he going to kill her here, leave her body to sink into the marsh? Or did he have something else in mind?

The younger guy handed Ryan a length of thin nylon rope.

“Keep your gun on her,” he ordered his assistant, and pulled her toward the building.

Like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking into place, she began to see the truth. He could have killed her as soon as they escaped the docks, but he needed a distraction.

Mason and his team would put all their effort into locating her. But they couldn’t track Ryan at the same time. He was going to disappear.

But he’d leave her to die first.

How could she have been so wrong about him? How could she have trusted him, worked beside him all these years, and never suspected a thing?

The old cabin was listing, the floor beneath her feet slanting downward at a sickening angle. She looked around, her eyes widening in horror as she realized that the back corner of the room was already filled with murky, brackish water.

Ryan pushed her roughly into the shack, his gun trained on her head. “Sit,” he ordered, shoving her hard across the tilting floor.

She stumbled and fell to her knees, scraping her palms on the rough planks. Before she could right herself, he grabbed the back of her shirt and hauled her toward the far corner. The floor there had already disappeared beneath a foot of dark water, as if the entire structure was sinking, corner first, into the sea.

While his soldier trained his handgun on her, Ryan secured her arms behind her back and her feet at the ankles. He raised his booted foot.

Avery flinched away, ducking her head to protect herself for the coming blow, but his kick landed on the wooden slats of the wall next to her. Again and again he kicked the wood until it broke away from the thicker stud. Then he yanked her back against the rotting back wall, wrapping the remaining line around the stud over and over again before securing it with strong knots, leaving no play in the line.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “What would be the point? I just need to keep your SEAL friend and his team busy until I can make my escape. Once I’m clear, I’ll get word to them about your location.”

Avery looked into his dead eyes. Killer’s eyes. He was lying. He had already murdered so many people, what was one more to him?

But she kept her face blank, her voice steady. “You can’t kill everyone who knows what you did.”

He shrugged, a cold, dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure they find you. Eventually.” He paused. “One more thing. I’ll be taking this.” He plucked the comlink from her ear, holding it up to the light with a triumphant smile.

Ryan crushed the device beneath his heel, grinding it into the dirt with a sickening crunch. Then, with a final, mocking smile, he and his accomplice walked out of the shack, leaving her alone in the rising water.

Avery listened to the sound of Ryan’s footsteps fading away. She had to find a way to let Mason know where she was.

But as she struggled against her bonds, the rough rope biting into her skin, she knew it was hopeless. Ryan had tied her too tightly, the knots too complex for her to unravel on her own.

She was trapped, helpless, with no way to escape.

As her eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw something else that made her heart stop in her chest. Algae-covered waterlines, running along the walls like some kind of twisted, green graffiti.

And the tide was rising. Living on a houseboat had ingrained the natural swings into her very being. High tide would be in four or five hours. And it would be a big one. Autumn tidal swings were large. Three to four feet.

Panic surged, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Water marks, oily lines and patches of algae, striped the walls like nasty bathtub rings. The highest of them reached almost to the ceiling at the lowest corner.

At even a moderate high tide, her corner of the room would be completely submerged.

She felt a scream building in her throat, a desperate, primal cry for help.

If Mason didn’t find her, she was going to die here, alone and afraid, with nothing but the sound of the water lapping at her to keep her company.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

Mason’s rugged features flashed before her eyes. The dark blond curls she’d been so tempted to wind around her fingers.

Too late now.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.