The sound of a siren coming from somewhere up the street grew louder.

  “What do we tell them?” Dana wasn’t sure if they should say anything—but knew she couldn’t afford to be detained now. Too much going on!

  “The truth.” The admiral took his fancy pistol out and placed it on the hood of his car. “General Abrams will be pissed if the cops try to take this away from me.” He glanced at Dana. “Used to be his—a presentation from his men.” Dorrance smiled. “I won it in a poker game a few months ago.”

  As the admiral talked, Dana searched around until she found her purse. Her own handgun was soon sitting next to the admiral’s fancier sidearm. “I can’t believe you’re going to tell some backwoods Virginia police everything that’s going on with these people.”

  “Of course not, my dear.” The old man smiled. “We never tell anyone outside the system the whole truth.” He turned toward the approaching cruiser. “I thought you’d know that by now.”

  “I guess,” Dana turned toward the car as she and the admiral froze in place, hands in plain sight.

  The police cruiser skidded to a halt in front of them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “So the two of you got arrested.” Flame chuckled at the thought of the very proper Dana and the even more proper admiral handcuffed in the back of a police car. “Bet that never happened to you before!”

  “They didn’t arrest us!” Dana shook her head at Flame’s tone. She had called the big ex-SEAL right after letting Eric know where she was—he was, after all, her partner and entitled to know what was going on. “They did question us, but the bar was equipped with a security camera that showed everything that happened and the admiral is, after all, the admiral.” She grinned as she thought of just what that worthy had said to the patrolman who ordered him to get on the ground. “And after he showed the supervising officer his ID, things got a lot friendlier.”

  “Any idea who the assailants are?” Flame kept his tone light but, inwardly, he was starting to worry.

  “Found another of those crested lighters.” Dana’s voice became serious. “The admiral says he knows what they mean. He was going to brief me this afternoon but now we have to put it off until tomorrow or the day after—we can’t afford to meet too publicly after what happened today.”

  “Yeah,” Flame nodded. “I get that.”

  “We may have a line on those videos I sent you.” Dana knew that Flame had been angered by the sight of a single helpless woman being beaten—and humiliated—by a group of men. “We’ve narrowed the source down a bit.”

  “Somewhere in Iraq?” He guessed.

  “No, weather is all wrong, somewhere cold.” She hadn’t yet called Eric or returned to the office and had no idea what the audio track had revealed. “I’ll let you know when we get more information.”

  “Do that.” Flame glanced at the front of the school—it was nearly the end of classes and he had been keeping a careful eye out for any vehicles or people that seemed out of place.

  So far, there had been nothing.

  “I’ll touch base with you around lunchtime tomorrow.” Flame grinned. “And I will do my level best not to wake you up in the middle of the night.”

  “Thanks,” Dana grinned. “I did have some problems staying awake this morning—the kidnapping attempt has done wonders for that, however.”

  “Sounds like you did okay.” Flame’s voice held a note of respect. “You didn’t panic and you slowed things down enough for the admiral to come to the rescue.” He chuckled. “Next time, though, make sure you can reach your sidearm—hear?”

  “I hear you, Flame.” Dana’s own chuckle echoed his. “And if there is a next time, I will make sure I can bring my pistol to bear—I promise.”

  “Gotta go,” Flame heard the bell ring in the old school building. “Speak soon.” He cut the line and pocketed the cell phone, tapping his own sidearm as he did so—a habitual gesture that reassured him that the weapon was there if needed. Dana better learn to do the same thing, he told himself as he crossed the street to meet Kimberly. At least if we continue to deal with people like the ones we’re up against right now…

  Flame had the feeling that, with their experience and contacts, that would, more often than not, turn out to be the case.

  As that thought hung in his mind, he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number…

  ***

  “Where have you been?” Bivens turned toward Dana as she came into the office. “And what happened?!” He stood up, touched her cheek. “That’s some shiner you have there!”

  “The admiral and I had a little problem,” Dana put her jacket on the coatrack and settled into her seat. She had a spare pair of shoes in her bottom drawer and, while Eric stared, she pulled them out and tossed away the sneakers the police had given her to wear.

  “The cops are supposed to call the admiral if they find out anything interesting from the bodies or the van, but I don’t expect much.” She reached into her pocket. “We do have something, however…” She put the cigarette lighter down on her desk.

  “Same crest.” Eric looked it over. “Do I have to worry about trace or fingerprints?”

  “Not really.” Dana shrugged. “I mean, we have the body it came from and the vehicle it was traveling in—I think that’ll get us anything there is to get.”

  “I guess.” Eric picked it up. “Crest isn’t quite the same—not from the San Francisco batch at all. This one looks Chinese-made—they do a lot of that sort of work for Disney and the other big theme park companies.” He picked at the edge. “It’s just crazy-glued on.”

  “Check it out—maybe we can trace the purchase if it’s more recent.”

  “You think that they’re still recruiting members?”

  “Maybe.” Dana shrugged again. “I think that for the moment we have to follow all leads.” She looked at her friend. “Did the audio analysis give us anything?”

  “More than I expected!” Eric turned back to his console and pulled up a file. “I pulled the audio tracks from each file sent to the kidnapped girls’ fathers. They all share one really unusual characteristic…”

  “Which is?”

  “A near-total lack of background noise—it’s really quiet.” He pointed to the waveform. “There’s no street noise, no horns, no trains—nothing at all of any note coming from the area around the filming site.”

  “Are you sure that the room isn’t just soundproofed?”

  “I thought of that,” he said, then tapped some keys. “This is the video of the third girl—I think her father is French.” He activated speakers. “Listen.”

  “I don’t…” Suddenly she heard something—a far-away metal/wind drone of some kind—familiar… “What is that?”

  “It’s a jet engine.” Eric grinned. “Rather two jet engines running at full speed at a distance of about six miles.” His grin widened. “Or, to make it easier for you, it’s the sound of a plane going overhead at thirty thousand feet.”

  “No road noises but a plane overhead.” She shook her head. “We need more.”

  “I’m still enhancing whatever I can find.” He shrugged. “I’ll keep on it.”

  “Do that.” Dana yawned. “I’m going to go home and get some sleep—you make sure you do the same!”

  “Yes ma’am,” Eric shot her an offhanded salute. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

  Dana shook her head and pulled her jacket off its hook. As she pulled it on, she had a thought. Flame was right about one thing. She took her handgun out of its special pocket in her purse and checked it over. Everything was in order, the clip was fully loaded and properly seated, and the safety was on. I should make sure I can reach this. She pushed the weapon between her belt and pants, seating it at the small of her back where it was covered by her jacket. And from now on, I’ll wear my belt holster and keep this thing where I can reach it. Unconsciously, she tapped the weapon once, her motion duplicating Flame’s habitual check.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Masayo was not surprised when the men once again came for her. My father is still not doing what they want. She held herself still, denying them any sign of fear as they dragged her out of the long dormitory room. They will escalate their mistreatment of me. She heard the other girls shuffling along behind her. I only hope I have the strength to resist them.

  She would soon find out.

  The camera stood in a different part of the big room when she was pulled inside. It stood on a tripod near the far wall with its lens turned that way.

  Masayo saw the ropes fixed to that wall. They were already fashioned into loops and she immediately knew the ropes were there to hold her in place. And so it begins. They led her through a tiny stray ray of sunshine that had made its way through the taped over window on one wall and turned her so her back was against the wall.

  I am Samurai, she told herself. I will not let them see my pain. The loops went around her wrists and were pulled tight. A second pair went around her ankles, far enough apart to pull her legs slightly apart.

  The men stepped away and Masayo knew that the time had come.

  “Mr. Kano.” The masked individual who had administered that humiliating spanking a few days ago stepped forward and faced the camera. “You have still not responded to our requests.” The man shook his head. “It is unwise to assume that we will not act against your daughter.” He motioned toward Masayo who stared into the lens, her face stoically unmoving. “As you will soon see,” he said, and motioned to one of the other men in the room.

  The man handed him a long piece of bamboo—split down the middle.

  “In some parts of Asia,” the man spoke while holding up the pole, “including your own country of Japan, this instrument has long been used to discipline recalcitrant individuals.” The man turned toward Masayo. “As I cannot use it on you, your daughter will have to suffer the consequences.” He drew the long pole back. “You know how to stop this." The man turned to look directly into the lens. “I suggest you do so immediately.” He nodded and one of his men pulled Masayo’s robe up, tucking it under her secured right arm.

  The Japanese girl hung in place, naked from the neck down, eyes fixed on the camera as…

  The pole whipped around and impacted across her stretched out belly.

  WHUFF! Masayo’s wind was forced out of her by the force of the blow. Her eyes filled with tears—and horror. She felt as if she had been cut in half, as if her stomach had been slit open with its contents pulled out.

  And yet there was barely a mark on her.

  The pole came around again, striking in almost the same spot. Masayo tried to contain her agony—but it was no use.

  A scream bubbled from the very center of her being—the first of many to come…

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Dana was nervous as she entered the parking lot under her office building. Flame’s worries had gotten to her and she found herself touching the butt of her pistol again and again.

  Most of the tenants wouldn’t leave for a few hours yet—which meant that Dana had the elevator to herself—as well as the shadowy parking area below.

  My car’s over there, she told herself, nervously tapping the butt of her pistol again. About ten rows down. She left the elevator, eyes scanning left and right.I’ve got to get hold of myself. She worried her lower lip. I can’t start seeing kidnappers and assassins behind every bush!

  There was a whisper of sound to her left. Dana swiveled in that direction, hand moving toward her pistol—until she saw the medium-sized calico cat staring back at her. She was an old friend—one that kept the parking area free of mice and other pests.

  She wouldn’t be wandering around like that if there was someone else here, Dana told herself. She’d be hiding under one of the cars.

  Then Dana realized that she was there—and the cat wasn’t paying her the slightest bit of attention.

  Spooked again, she continued down the ramp until she found her car, jammed between a new Mercedes and an oversized SUV, both parked over the line that should have delineated her space.

  Bastards, she thought. I should report them. A nasty smile crossed her face. Or at least key their cars! She slid through the tiny open area between her car and the SUV, grateful that she was such a small person. I can’t do that, of course. She shook her head. Although Flame wouldn’t hesitate for a second!

  She got her key into the lock and, with some effort, began to fold herself into her compact. She felt her gun catch on the doorjamb, pulled it free, and tossed it onto the seat. This would be a bad time for someone to show up, she told herself, working her chest past the edge of the door. I’d be easy pickings jammed in here like this. She doubled her effort to get in the car and finally popped through the narrow space. There! She jammed the key into the ignition even as she pulled her seat belt into place. The car slid out of the spot with inches to spare—but Dana didn’t particularly care if she scratched that monstrous SUV or not.

  Moments later, she was on the street and on her way home. She didn’t notice the motorcyclist who pulled into traffic behind her and followed from a distance.

  ***

  Flame smiled as he took a forkful of the entrée.

  “What’s funny, Flame?” Kimberly asked, eyes studying his face—as they so often seemed to do.

  “Well,” he smiled at her. “You know I was pretty badly injured a while back.” He tapped the side of his skull. “They put some metal up here to repair part of the damage.”

  “That sounds bad.” Mr. Forrest looked at him with sympathy. “Is that why you left the military?”

  “I really wasn’t given much choice,” Flame sensed Aesop watching him—the big man hadn’t gotten the full story of why Flame had left SEAL Team Six and was more than a little interested. “The powers-that-be were afraid of what might happen if someone hit me there again.” Flame’s smile returned. “Truth be told, I was kind of worried myself.”

  He took a bit of food on his fork and held it up. “The one weird side effect that persists involves my sense of taste.” He popped the morsel into his mouth. “I know that this is salmon—and that it is perfectly cooked, however,” he said, and looked at Kimberly, “to me it tastes like nothing so much as liver.” The smile widened. “And I really hate liver.”

  “Oh,” Forrest leaned forward. “I didn’t know. If it’s a problem…”

  “No problem, sir.” Flame shrugged. “I’m learning to live with it—and it does seem to be getting better. I can actually taste ice cream and coffee and a couple of other things now. In another few months…” he said, and shrugged again, “who knows.”

  “Has your partner made any progress finding out who’s behind all this?”

  “Quite a bit.” Flame took some more salmon, ate it quickly to avoid the flavor. “She hopes to have those responsible pinpointed soon.” He turned to Aesop. “When that happens, Aesop will stay with you while I go to…” He hesitated. “While I go to wherever I have to go.”

  “You will come back?” That from Kimberly.

  “That will depend on what happens.” Flame finished his food. “And if you’ll all excuse me, I really need to get some sleep tonight.”

  “Understood,” Forrest stood. “Good night, Flame.”

  “I’ll walk you to the apartment.” Kimberly started to stand.

  “No need.” Flame waved her down. “Finish you own meal—have some dessert.” He smiled. “Taste it for me.”

  And then he was gone, striding quickly out of the dining room and out the back door.

  ***

  Back in Northern Virginia, Dana found a parking spot less than a block from her apartment building. Pays to leave work early! She pulled in, set the emergency brake, and locked the car, setting the alarm carefully before heading up the street. This was a nice neighborhood but it really didn’t pay to take chances.

  Outside, in familiar surroundings, the concern she’d felt back at the office quickly faded away and she didn’t once reach to touch the butt of her handgun as she walked. Had she done so, she’d have realized that the gun was back in her car, lying on the passenger seat where she’d tossed it.

  None of that mattered to her right now—all that was on her mind was getting into a warm bath for a long hour of relaxation before bed.

  As she began to draw that bath, the motorcycle rider who had followed her home found a place to park not far from her car. Strapping a duffel-like parcel onto his back, the helmeted man strode idly to Dana’s building and took a moment to check the tenant names marked on the mailboxes just inside the front door.

  He touched the one marked “Morton” and made a note of the number, before marching across the street and into the doorway of another apartment building—identical in most ways to Dana’s.

  He ran the flat of his hand down the call buttons in the outer lobby, pushing half of them.

  Almost immediately, one of the tenants responded, buzzing the front door open.

  The man stepped inside and walked to the staircase at the back of the building, gripping the strap of the bag draped over his shoulder tight as he did so.

  He was in no hurry—there would be nothing to do for a few hours.

  ***

  Katelyn watched the Japanese girl curled up on the bunk across from her own. The girl was sobbing into her stained pillow, holding herself as nearly straight as she could.

  She’s afraid to move, Katelyn thought. That bamboo thing must have really cut into her skin. All the girls had seen the blood that had seeped through the Japanese girl’s robe after it had been pulled back into place. She should really go into the shower, Katelyn thought. The hot water might help. She studied the girl’s immobile form. But she probably doesn’t have the strength to go that far.

  Katelyn looked around, saw the other women sitting or lying on their cots, faces blank, carefully avoiding the injured girl.