Running Strong Read online

  The implications were infuriating. How had these people found where her family lived? If there was one thing they had made sure of, it was hiding their location and identities from anyone they didn’t know. Records showed Noah and Samara Stoddard owned the house. No one should be able to trace that name back to Noah McCall or Last Chance Rescue. How had they found them? And who were “they”?

  Samara took a breath and used her knowledge to assess their situation. No one was hurt, only scared. That was a good sign. That didn’t mean they weren’t in danger. Things went awry in kidnappings all the time. She and her children would not be statistics.

  Noah and LCR would be doing everything on their end to rescue them, and she needed to do everything possible to escape.

  For an abduction, there had been a surprising number of people involved. Four men had been involved in taking her. At least two others had kidnapped her children. Plus however many had delayed Noah from answering her alert.

  It would do no good for her to speculate who was responsible. That was for Noah and LCR to determine. What she could and would do was try to figure a way out. She wouldn’t put her children more at risk, though. If ransom would satisfy their kidnappers, then Noah would pay what was necessary.

  Her gut told her something else, though. The people they had crossed and helped bring to justice would be more inclined to want revenge, not money. She had to figure a way out of here.

  Gathering her children, one under each arm, Samara whispered words of love and assurances and then began to pray in earnest.

  Chapter Five

  St. Mary’s Hospital

  Alexandria, Virginia

  Raphael exploded out of the elevator. Ignoring the admonishments from a couple of nurses, he ran down the hallway and pushed open the door to Noah’s room. Seeing the man who had been like a father to him bruised and pale twisted his gut into knots. One of Noah’s eyes was swollen completely closed. Several nasty bruises mottled his face.

  All in all, he was lucky to be alive, but Raphael knew Noah wasn’t feeling lucky.

  Knowing the man well, Raphael didn’t waste time on platitudes. “You look like hell.”

  As if carved from granite, Noah’s expression remained unchanged. “Feel like it, too.”

  Raphael nodded an acknowledgment to Eden and Jordan and asked, “What do we know?”

  “Not much,” Jordan said. “Still no ransom demand. And a ton of suspects.”

  Raphael frowned at the news. “It’s been almost twenty-four hours. Why are they taking so long?”

  “To make me sweat,” Noah said. “No way they’re not going to contact me soon.”

  Raphael didn’t know if Noah believed this or was telling himself that because the alternative was too horrific to contemplate.

  “I agree,” Eden said. “Whoever is behind this is out to hurt you. The longer he waits, the more likely you are to suffer. He’s getting off on it.”

  “So what are we doing in the meantime?” Raphael asked.

  “We had an initial meeting at headquarters last night,” Jordan said. “We’ve got all our tech analysts running down every suspect on McCall’s list. We should have some more solid suspects this afternoon.

  “There’s another meeting scheduled for three this afternoon. The hospital has loaned us the use of a conference room. We’ve got plenty of space to coordinate a rescue operation. We’ll—”

  Jordan broke off when a chime sounded. The cellphone on the swing table attached to Noah’s bed indicated an incoming call. Raphael leaned forward and caught a glimpse of the display screen. Unknown caller.

  Noah grabbed the phone, but waited a second to answer. Jordan was on his phone to one of their LCR analysts, who would try to trace the location of the caller. The instant Jordan nodded that this was in place, Noah answered, putting the call on speaker.

  “McCall.”

  “Mr. McCall? I just heard the news about your family’s untimely tragedy.”

  His heart sinking, Raphael met Noah’s eyes and saw acknowledgment in them. That deep, resonant voice was undeniably familiar.

  Noah said coolly, “And you are?”

  “I guess it makes sense that you don’t recognize my voice, although I’ve been told it’s memorable. I’m sure mine is just one of many lives you’ve ruined. Tell me, how many other families have you destroyed, McCall?”

  “How do you know my family was taken?”

  “One hears things…you know. Prisons are rife with gossip and rumors. I just had to call and see if this one was true.”

  “Do you have my family?”

  A burst of laughter, sounding dry and slightly off-balance, blasted over the phone. “But of course I don’t. What a delightfully amusing accusation. Alas, thanks to you, I’m incarcerated. How could I, a simple prisoner, a man told when to eat, sleep, and eliminate body waste, be responsible for committing such a heinous crime? I have no power. There must be thousands of other people who have cause to despise you. One of them has finally found a way to punish you.”

  “So you’re just calling out of interest or curiosity?”

  “Oh, no, Mr. McCall. I’m calling to express my deepest sympathies. You see, I know how it feels to lose your loved ones due to someone else’s machinations. I can completely empathize with the pain you must be going through.”

  Though his face was a mask of fury, Noah kept his voice calm. “And there’s nothing I can do for you?”

  “Well…now that you mention it, there is one thing.”

  Jordan raised a hand to signal that the call had been traced. He said softly, “Fieldstone prison.”

  Apparently seeing no need to keep up the pretense, Noah said, “What is it you want, Reddington?”

  “Aw, good. I’m so glad you had the call traced. Now we can talk more freely. And you’ll know that I had no way of abducting your family. I have nothing left, you made sure of that. No, my concern for you and the welfare of your family is the only reason I called.”

  “Of course it is. But there is something I can do for you?”

  “Well, of course. We all want something, don’t we?”

  “What is—”

  “Oh dear. My time is up. I must go. We’ll talk soon.”

  “No!” Noah barked. “Tell me what—”

  The line went dead.

  Cursing viciously, Noah squeezed the phone in his hand until Raphael was certain it would break. Showing why he was the best at what he did, Noah carefully placed the phone on the table in front of him. “At least we know who and why. He’ll want his family in exchange for mine.”

  Jordan was texting the others that the man responsible had been identified.

  “Eden,” Noah said, “send Maddox and Bishop to Fieldstone prison in Nebraska. Tell them to do whatever they have to do to get the man to talk.”

  “Will do.”

  Raphael approved of the strategic move. Sending Ethan Bishop and Gabe Maddox to confront Reddington was brilliant. The two men had been LCR operatives for several years and would intimidate an army, much less a sniveling weasel like Stanford Reddington.

  Reddington. His gut twisted with all the implications.

  Forcing his mind away from the painful memories of the past, Raphael concentrated on the here and now. “Do you know where Sarah and her children live?”

  “No. Only the US Marshals assigned to their case know.”

  “And Giselle? She still married to Daniel Fletcher III?”

  “You don’t know?”

  Despite himself, his heart stuttered. “Know what?”

  “Her husband died a year or so ago.”

  “Of what?”

  “Car accident. Family released a statement, but there was very little media coverage.”

  No surprise there. The wealth of the Fletcher family was matched only by their intense privacy.

  “Where’s Giselle? Is she still living with them?”

  “Last I heard, she was. Getting credible intel on that family is almost impos
sible.”

  That was likely true. Not that he had tried. What was done was done.

  Despite his determination to not dwell on the past, Raphael had often wondered how Giselle was faring with such an intensely secretive family. She had been controlled and manipulated by her father, held a virtual prisoner on that island of his. And then she had chosen to marry a man whose wealth would not only rival a midsize country, but he was ultraprivate to boot. Had she exchanged one prison for another?

  Eden ended her call. “Gabe and Ethan are on the way to the airport. They’ll call you as soon as they see Reddington. Also, I’ll contact the US Marshals’ office and have them notify the people in charge of Sarah and her children’s protection.” Eden’s gaze skittered to Raphael and then returned to Noah. “Someone needs to let Giselle know what’s going on.”

  “Raphael will go.”

  Though his voice was somewhat stiff, Raphael managed an even reply. “I’ll head out as soon as possible.”

  Noah gave Jordan and Eden a look. “Would you guys mind giving us some privacy?”

  “Of course,” Eden said. She gave Raphael a quick smile of encouragement and opened the door. Jordan followed her, stopping on the way to offer his own support with a slap on the back.

  The instant the door closed, Noah said, “You okay with this?”

  Was he okay with seeing the woman who’d ripped out his heart and stomped all over it? Not really. He’d had much tougher assignments, but none he had dreaded more. Didn’t matter. It needed to be done. He was the man for the job.

  “It’s not a problem. That was a long time ago. We’ve both moved on.”

  Thankfully, Noah took him at his word and didn’t remind him of how he’d acted when he’d learned Giselle had left him. It hadn’t been his finest hour.

  “She may offer to help. If she does, see if she will come back with you. Assure her that we’ll protect her.”

  That hadn’t been on his radar, but it made sense. If Reddington’s plan was to initiate an exchange, his family for Noah’s, having Giselle’s assistance would be beneficial.

  So not only would he be seeing Giselle again, he would likely be traveling with her, spending time with her. His heart rate picked up. He told himself it had nothing to do with seeing her again.

  Yeah, and he was a piss-poor liar.

  ***

  Fieldstone Correctional Facility

  Omaha, Nebraska

  It had begun.

  From his fourth-floor cell, Stanford stared out the small window into the courtyard below. He tried to feel satisfaction. Knowing that the man he’d hated for so long was finally experiencing the pain he deserved should have at least lifted his spirits. Unfortunately, happiness was an elusive dream these days. For so long, vengeance had been his only motivation to stay alive.

  Even though he had been waiting for this day for years, he knew his life would still never be the same. He could never regain what they took from him. All the things he valued were gone. But there were still things he wanted, things he could get. He still had power and influence. They hadn’t completely destroyed those, even though they had tried. They thought they’d succeeded.

  Years ago, it would have galled him to accept assistance. He didn’t do favors for other people and didn’t like being in anyone’s debt. But in this…in this, it felt right. Didn’t really matter what they wanted in return. As far as he was concerned, everything and everyone else could go to hell. His objectives were his only focus.

  In a different time, he would have found out the reason for it all and used that knowledge to his advantage. Years ago, it had been a game, and no one had been better at playing to win. Now he just didn’t give a damn.

  A small smile curved his thin lips. This was a coup like no other, though. They believed he was just a sickly, old man locked up in prison, waiting to die. They were wrong. He had a plan and he had goals. With the help of his new associates, he would win once again.

  Noah McCall and the bastards at Last Chance Rescue would rue the day they ever crossed paths with Stanford Reddington.

  Chapter Six

  The drone of the plane barely penetrated Raphael’s consciousness. Frowning, he stared at the minute amount of information LCR’s best tech analyst had sent him. Even though she’d had only an hour or so to dig into Giselle’s life, he had expected more than this. Yes, the Fletcher family was private, but this went several degrees beyond that.

  Following a hunch, Raphael typed Giselle’s name into a search engine. Five screens later, he found a small blip about her marriage to Daniel Fletcher III. What had happened to all the articles written right after the marriage? The news that one of the most revered families in the country was now connected in marriage to a former human trafficker and murderer had been plastered everywhere.

  Three screens after that small notation was a brief blurb indicating that Daniel had died in a car accident, leaving his young wife a widow.

  That was all. Giselle’s life had been summarized in less than six lines.

  The Internet had been scrubbed clean, almost as if Giselle never existed. He went back to the intel he’d been given. There was nothing substantial there either. Even the university she and Raphael attended together, before her family went into WITSEC, showed no record of her.

  He did some quick searches on her mother and found various articles about her testimony against Reddington, along with an article about her captivity on the island. The author had referenced that she had been forced to bear Reddington’s children, but no names were mentioned.

  Nothing recent had been written. Sarah Reddington no longer used that name. She, along with her children, had assumed new names when they had disappeared with the government’s help.

  And then they’d had to do it all over again.

  It boggled the mind to think about what a mess that must have been. When news of Giselle and Fletcher’s marriage exploded in the tabloids, Sarah, Amelia, and Eric had been exposed. He and Noah had spoken about it just that once. Noah hadn’t known any details other than Sarah and her children had once again been uprooted, forced to flee and start all over again. New names, new everything.

  Had Giselle even considered that when she’d married Fletcher? The sheer selfishness of that one act was final proof that he hadn’t known her at all. The girl he had thought she was would never have done something so utterly wrong.

  Raphael glanced out the window, but instead of the dark night skies, he saw Giselle the first day he met her. She had been seventeen and the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his entire life. He’d been dry-mouthed and speechless, stunned by not only her beauty but also her so obvious innocence.

  Stanford Reddington was one of the most vile, inhumane bastards Raphael had ever come across. The man had been involved in several shady businesses, but his human trafficking organization was his biggest source of income. Reddington’s own father had been a sleazy human trafficker and had passed that business on to his son. And Stanford had been in the process of teaching his son, Lance, to do the very same thing. Raphael had incorrectly assumed the entire family was corrupt. Nothing could have been further from the truth.

  Sarah, Giselle’s mother, had been Stanford Reddington’s first victim. He had kept her and her children a prisoner on an island in the Canary Islands. Everything was closely monitored, and they were fed only information and news that Reddington deemed appropriate. Giselle had been living in a mansion and a virtual paradise, but she had been a prisoner. No matter how pretty her surroundings, she’d had no choices, no freedom.

  Despite all of that, she had been the most natural and unaffected person he’d ever known. Her smile could light up a room and soften the hardest of hearts. He lost his heart, along with his sanity, early on.

  Their relationship was doomed from the start, though. He’d just been too stupid in love to see the signs.

  As Dear John letters went, the one she’d left him was short and coldhearted. He’d put most of it out of his min
d, but he remembered the gist of it. Blah, blah, blah. Empty platitudes. Shit like that meant nothing when it took every effort just to breathe through the pain.

  If she’d said those things to his face, maybe he would’ve handled things better. He would’ve at least respected that. But she’d left him a lousy letter, and that had been that. What he had believed was the beginning of their forever had turned into a thanks-for-the-memories kind of parting.

  Had he understood the need for her and her family to enter the WITSEC program? Hell yeah. What he did not, could not, understand was her decision to just leave him behind. As if he meant nothing. As if they meant nothing. He would have gone with her. They could have continued to have the life they’d been living. She had made that choice for him.

  Bitterness had arrived early, washing over the hurt, which had been a helluva lot more palatable. Apathy followed, and he’d taken comfort in simply not giving a damn.

  Seeing her again might be a little awkward, but their brief romance ended years ago. He’d had a couple of semiserious relationships since then, and she’d been married. Couldn’t get more water under the bridge than that.

  So he’d go there, see her. Tell her that her asshole of a father was causing havoc once more and to beware. He’d also ask for her help. If she said yes, fine. He’d bring her back, and other operatives could deal with her. If she refused to help—which, considering her track record of self-centeredness, he was sure she would—he’d go back home and do what was needed. Saving Noah’s family was his only priority right now.

  The chime of his cellphone had him quickly checking the display. Seeing the name of an old friend, he felt a smile soften his grim mouth.

  “Hey you,” he answered.

  “How are you?”

  “Worried.”