Ethan was so intent on gearing up that he seemed to have forgotten about her. He checked the gun in his waistband one more time, then turned to her. "Stay in the car, activate the alarm, and don't move. If anything happens and you get scared, call nine one one and stay put. The gla.s.s is bulletproof, so you should be fine."

He got out of the car, walked over to her side, took her hand, and pressed the keys into her cold, shaking palm. Amazingly, his hand was warm and dry, as if he were heading to the grocery store and not going off to face several armed men. His fingers tightened around her hand and he leaned down. "Don't worry. It's all going to be fine." He brushed a quick kiss on her cheek. Before she could react, he and Derek took off across the dark parking lot, swift and silent, like wolves running through the night.

Ethan and Derek arrived just in time to see Kramer and four other men enter the darkened building through a back entrance next to a Dumpster. The remaining two men pulled the cars around to the side of the building and got back out, circling, watching, waiting to scare off anyone who might stumble across them.

Alex stayed in position to keep an eye on the two outside, while Ethan and Derek slipped around to the front of the building. Through the dark, Ethan could make out a sign that said "Office s.p.a.ce For Lease." The door was locked, armed with a security system that required an electronic key card to enter.

They did a swift a.s.sessment of the square, squat building. They could override the security system, but that would take time. More time than they had.

Looking up, Ethan saw a roof-level window, open a few inches.

Pay dirt.

He and Ethan pried the window open enough to slip through and crept along the steel girding in the high ceiling of the warehouselike structure.

A light came from the back, and he and Derek climbed across the metal framing for a closer look. Five men, including Jerry, stood in a gla.s.s-walled room at the back of the building. The walls didn't go all the way to the roof, and Ethan and Derek perched in the darkness.

Unlike the rest of the office s.p.a.ce, which seemed to have been given up for dead some time ago, the room was a small but fully equipped lab s.p.a.ce.

Jerry wiped his hands on the front of his pants before using a pipette to drop liquid on what looked like a microscopic slide. Two of the men, one a medium-built blond with muddy green eyes and the other a tall, hunch-shouldered, hollow-chested guy, hovered close, watching Jerry's every move. Both were in their late forties.

The other two men were muscle, one a big blond guy with a florid face and a thick layer of fat over muscle. The other was shorter, darker, built like a brick wall. That guy made Ethan nervous, the way his thumb traced the b.u.t.t of his gun in his side holster.

Derek shifted his position for a better view, pulled out his handheld, and snapped a few photos.

"I trust you're prepared for the demonstration, Jerry?" They had no problem hearing the wiry blond guy's faintly accented voice. For all his friendly tone, Jerry shot him a look full of venom.

"Of course," Jerry said. "I'm sure Mr...." he trailed off and looked at the tall, dark-haired man.

"You can call me Meester Smeeth." The man's fleshy lips pulled into a smile. Ethan guessed the accent to be some flavor of Eastern European.

"Right," Jerry said, recognizing the name for the alias it was.

The blond guy and "Smith" exchanged a few words in what sounded like Russian and laughed.

Jerry gave them an uneasy look and moved to where a computer monitor sat atop an unfamiliar-looking piece of machinery. "If you're ready, we can get started."

Ethan's grip tightened on the metal catwalk as he prepared to move in and get this over with. He didn't like it that Toni was sitting alone in the car-he should have called Danny over to keep her in his condo, by brute force, if necessary.

He eased forward and caught Derek's eye, signaling him to move in. Derek shook his head in a short, sharp motion, motioned for Ethan to back off.

Ethan held himself in check, but barely. Yeah, Derek was probably right. They should figure out what Jerry was up to that had him sneaking into secret labs in the middle of the night accompanied by sketchy foreign characters and their armed bodyguards.

But Kara Kramer was G.o.d knew where, and he'd bet his left nut one these men knew. And the woman he lov-don't even go there, dude-Toni was alone in a dark parking lot, and one of these men had tried to have her killed yesterday.

Jerry's hands shook slightly as he dropped a small amount of liquid onto what looked like a piece of clear plastic. "You'll see-with a very small sample size, we can synthesize the bacteria and quickly mutate it." He loaded the chip into a casing and slid it into the machine. He typed in a command and the computer screen showed a complex network of channels and valves, separating off different parts of the liquid. At this magnification, you could see the small organisms being part.i.tioned off into the valves.

Smith's smile widened. "Then it's simply a matter of picking the most virulent strain for cultivation."

Jerry's face was marble white. "Yes."

Smith turned to the blond man. "It is as exciting as you promised, William. My colleagues will be most pleased."

Ethan and Derek exchanged a look. Bacteria? Virulent strain?

His stomach flipped at the implications. Biowarfare. And Jerry was putting it into the hands of people who sure as h.e.l.l weren't representing the interests of the United States and its allies.

Jerry slid the casing from the machine and packed it away.

The blond man, William, motioned for Jerry to pack up the rest of the equipment as he and Smith conversed in Russian.

Jerry handed the case holding the machinery to Smith's bodyguard. "There are ten chips and cartridges included. Enough for..." Jerry swallowed hard.

Ethan wanted to b.u.m-rush him and pound his face into the concrete floor. f.u.c.king weasel.

Smith and William shook hands, then Smith and his bodyguard exited the room.

Ethan and Derek froze in the darkness, holding their breath as the men pa.s.sed directly underneath them.

"I held up my end," Jerry said. "Now you do the same. Where's Kara?"

Every nerve and sinew went on high alert. Ethan sank back into the darkness and whispered to Alex, "Bring one of the cars over. Park on the street. Be ready to tail the Mercedes. These guys are going to lead us to Kara."

"Don't worry," William said, taking Jerry's arm and leading him to the door. "Everything will end as it should."

Fear had a taste. Bitter and metallic, it rose up from the pit of Jerry's stomach, spread into his throat and coated his tongue like a film. Calm down. You did exactly what they wanted. It's all fine from here.

Now Connors would release Kara. Jerry would drop her off at Marcy's and head south. He'd be in Mexico by dinnertime.

He'd wanted to take Kara and Kyle with him, had planned on it, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't expect two teenagers to give up their ident.i.ties and go into hiding with him. He'd left notes explaining his disappearance as best he could and set up hefty trust funds for both of them. They would never need anything.

Connors's hand was like a manacle around his arm. His bodyguard walked behind, close enough so that Jerry could smell the man's body odor. Or maybe that was his own. He'd been bathed in terror-spiked sweat since Connors had first called him four days ago.

Connors pushed Jerry outside into the cool night and directed him around to the side of the building, where Connors's car was parked. He looked around, hoping Kara was already here, or on her way.

All he saw was Connors's bodyguard and another thug, his face in shadow as he leaned against the hood of a silver Mercedes. Jerry yanked his arm from Connors's grip and spun around. "Cut the bulls.h.i.t," he said, inwardly cringing at the high edge of fear in his voice. "I came through. Now tell me where Kara is."

Connors laughed and shook his head. "Jerry, you didn't seriously think we'd let her go, did you?" His brow was furrowed as he looked at Jerry with the same condescending sympathy one gave the mentally disabled.

Jerry felt as if his insides were being sucked out. "You told me-"

"And you f.u.c.ked with me." The smile was gone. Connors was hard, cold, emotionless as granite. "Even if I were inclined to honor our agreement, you and your daughter would prove too much of a risk to my operation."

"You sick son of a b.i.t.c.h!" Jerry rushed him. Who cared? He was dead anyway. He took a wild swing at Connors and felt his feet lift into the air as he was grabbed from behind. He slammed into the pavement, the air rushing from his lungs as his head and torso hit the asphalt. He rolled over and pushed himself onto his hands and knees. He was lying on something, he realized. Someone had put down a tarp.

He looked up at Connors, who stood off to the side, smiling, enjoying the way Jerry gasped and retched as he tried to catch his breath.

"Now," Connors said, "I must be going. I have some men waiting to meet three lovely young ladies." He nodded at the dark-haired thug who stood just behind Jerry. "Make sure there is no mess." He slid into the pa.s.senger seat of the Mercedes while the big blond guy got in the driver's seat. The car came to life with a low rumble, the discreet German engine barely disturbing the still night.

The sedan began to back away, and Jerry felt the cold press of a gun to his back. "On your knees."

Jerry sank to the ground, feeling like his life, his soul was already pouring out of him. He'd never been a religious man, but prayers to G.o.d raced through his head. Not for himself. He didn't bother begging for forgiveness. If there was an afterlife, he knew exactly where he was headed.

Now he prayed for Kara. For someone to rescue his little girl from the horrific fate Connors had planned for her. All Jerry's fault.

He heard the metallic slide of the gun being c.o.c.ked and closed his eyes, trying to visualize his children's faces. Wetness trickled down his leg as he p.i.s.sed himself in fear.

He heard the shot that killed him.

But wait. He opened his eyes. There was no bright light. He was staring at the Dumpster. The thug was screaming, clutching his arm to his chest.

"Don't move!"

Jerry held up his hands and watched as Derek and Ethan Taggart rounded the corner of the building.

Ethan skidded to a stop and hauled Jerry to his feet, slamming him against the Dumpster. Jerry's would-be shooter was down for the count, whimpering as he cradled his wounded forearm. Had to hand it to Derek. He was still a crack shot, even without a scope and a sniper rifle. Running full out, taking a shot where there were inches between saving Jerry and killing him, Derek had nailed the shooter right in the forearm, sending his gun flying and the guy to his knees.

Derek was still running, chasing down the Mercedes on the off chance he could get close enough to take out a tire. But the taillights receded into the night, out of range of the Sig Sauer .45 Derek carried.

"Why aren't you shooting them?" Jerry said, flailing against Ethan's hold. "We have to stop him. He has Kara."

Ethan subdued Jerry with a forearm across his neck. "One of my men is tailing him. You got him, Alex?" he said into the mouthpiece.

"That's affirmative. Heading west on Veterans Boulevard. I've got my lights off and my night-vision goggles on, hanging back enough so he can't see me."

"We're right behind you."

"Tell him to shoot them!" Jerry said. "Connors has her. You have no idea what he's going to do to her!"

Derek's response was bone-dry and matter-of-fact. "If Alex tries to take them out, they'll catch on that they're being followed. You think they'll lead us to Kara then?"

Ethan pulled a pair of plastic cuffs from his pocket and used them to restrain Jerry while Derek did the same to the shooter. Ethan flipped his phone open and dialed Toni's number.

"What the h.e.l.l is going on?" she demanded, her voice high and harsh. "Did I hear gunshots?"

"I'll explain everything. Get the car over here, now." He hung up on her in midquestion, grabbed Jerry by the arm, and dragged him over to the approaching BMW.

Toni screeched to a halt and flung open the door. "Someone tell me what's going on!"

Derek grabbed the shooter and wrestled him into the backseat. "You got a first aid kit?"

"In the trunk," Ethan said and shoved Jerry through the rear pa.s.senger door. "Try not to bleed all over my seat."

The guy gave him a weak "f.u.c.k you."

Derek slid in the back with their prisoners while Toni rode shotgun.

"Alex, what's your position?" Ethan asked, slamming the car into reverse. The sound of tires squealing and the smell of burning rubber filled the air.

"I'm on them, heading west on Woodside Road, about to cross Alameda."

"Let me know if he gets on 280. I'll get ahead of him and intercept."

He glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Jerry, white as a sheet, pressing himself as far away as possible from the wounded guy, who winced and swore as Derek knotted a bandage around his forearm.

"Gotta be tight to slow the blood flow," Derek said, giving the knot another yank with a grim smile.

"Where is he heading?" Ethan asked the guy. "Where does he have the girl?"

"He has Kara?" Toni said, eyes going wide as she whipped her head around.

"I don't know about any girl," the guy said. "I got a call this morning. Someone has a job for me, tells me where to show up. That's all I know."

Derek wrapped his hand around the guy's wounded arm and squeezed. "You sure about that?"

"f.u.c.k!" The man's voice broke and he half sobbed, half groaned, "Yes! I swear! I don't know nothing about a girl! I was gonna get ten grand for killing and dumping."

Alex's voice broke in through Ethan's headset. "They did not get on the highway. We're still heading west on Woodside Road."

Woodside was part of Highway 84, running all the way from the East Bay across the Dumbarton Bridge, over the mountains, to the coast. Connors was heading up into the hills, where homes were tucked amid dense redwood forests, and narrow, twisty roads offered seclusion and privacy from curious neighbors.

"I bet Jerry knows," Toni spat out. "I knew you had something to do with this, you f.u.c.king weasel."

Toni's body coiled as if she was going to launch herself into the backseat and pound Jerry into oblivion. As much as Ethan would have enjoyed watching that, now wasn't the time. "Ease off, Toni."

"I don't know," Jerry said, his voice high, panicked.

"It's fine," Ethan said. "We're on him. We know exactly where he's going." He wished he could stop, dump Toni off somewhere safe and the two stooges with the police, but there wasn't time. Jesus, this night was turning into a f.u.c.king circus act.

"We have to hurry," Jerry said, as if Ethan weren't already driving like a bat out of h.e.l.l. "He's says he's going to sell her."

Ethan was pretty sure he knew what that meant, wished he didn't. "Sell her? To who? White slavers?"

"He says there's a group of men, very wealthy men, who pay to...have...virgins."

"What?" Toni said, the horror in her voice echoing Ethan's.

"He knew all about Kara from all her stuff on the Internet," Jerry said. "When I balked at handing over the prototype, he took her, said he knew people who would pay a lot of money to..." he stopped, unwilling to voice what they were all thinking.

Toni buried her face in her hands. "And knowing all that, you didn't call the police?"

"I had time!" Jerry said. "He said if I delivered the prototype she would be okay!"

"And you think you can trust a guy who sells teenage girls to wealthy perverts?" Toni scoffed. "You knew you'd ruin your career. You put Kara in danger to cover your own a.s.s."

Jerry didn't even try to defend himself.

"I heard Connors say something about three girls. Who are the other two?"