Nadia Wolf: My Traitor Part 12

Something felt different; even the guards seemed more on edge. Whatever had happened in the hours he was locked up had spooked the crew.

"You've attracted attention," French said when Remy stepped into a communications room.

The long room was filled with crew at their work stations, all watching monitors. The same image blanketed every screen.

Ava.

Chapter 11.

Static blurred and s.h.i.+fted the screen, but it didn't matter. Remy could clearly see that Ava was being held against her will. She sat on a chair in a bare, dimly lit room. A bruise darkened her cheek.

The picture of Ava disappeared, cutting to a man cloaked by shadows.

"We have Ava Hunt," a digitized voice said. "You have forty-eight hours to get us Venom or she will die."

The screens s.h.i.+fted, and Ava was gone.

Remy turned his attention to French. He didn't care how degenerate the man was, Remy was going to find Ava. If that meant helping French, then he would do it. But could he find her or Venom within forty-eight hours? It seemed like an impossible task.

"How far away from land are we?" Remy asked.

"About five days to the east," French answered.

Remy felt his throat close. "We don't have days!"

"Or, we could take the jet. We could be in Turkey in a few hours."

"Why Turkey?" Remy stared hard at French.

French smiled. It was a smile that Remy didn't trust, one that showed he knew he had the upper hand and wasn't afraid to exploit it.

"Why are you willing to help?" Remy asked. "You didn't even want Ava aboard."

"I told you already. You have something that I want."

"And I told you that I have nothing."

"Are you sure about that?" he questioned. "Come to my office. I'll tell you what I know. Maybe we can work out an arrangement. You help me, I help you."

"I'm not interested in helping you. Only Ava."

French shrugged. "For now, it's the same path." He walked out to the corridor, heading to his office. Remy followed, knowing he didn't have a choice. Until he was off this floating hunk of metal, French ruled. Once he was on land . . . well French had better run.

Ava sat tied to a chair, groggy from tranquilizers, and wondered how she was going to save Remy's a.s.s when her own was on the line. She wanted to know who the video message was sent to. And why kidnap her? Who'd care enough to want to save her? Not even the CID would be able to meet demands, especially not in forty-eight hours.

She was as good as dead.

Ava wasn't too sure who her captors were or even where she was. They wore none of the same markings as terrorist groups she knew about. They spoke a language she didn't understand or could even peg. And since they wore masks, she could only judge by their eyes that they were of Middle Eastern descent. And even that could be wrong.

One thing was obvious: Venom had made some powerful enemies, including her.

She wasn't going to sit idly by. If they wanted Venom, she would get Venom. She'd be d.a.m.ned if she was going to sit here, twiddling her numbing thumbs.

"Hey," Ava called to the towering masked guard. "Bring me to the leader of this dump."

Remy sat across from French. "Well?" he asked. If French lounged there with his smug expression for a second more, it would take an army to keep Remy from jumping over the wide desk to strangle him.

"How much did Ava tell you?"

"She told me she doesn't trust you."

French nodded. He reached down to a drawer and pulled out a gla.s.s bottle filled with an amber liquid. "Want a drink?"

Remy shook his head. Was French stalling?

Uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g the cap, he put it to his lips and took a long swig. "Did she tell you anything else?"

"You're not concerned that she doesn't trust you?"

"She was getting too close. I had to shut her out."

"Too close to what?"

"Venom."

"I thought that's who you were looking for. Why stop her if she was close?" Remy questioned, but he knew he would have done the same thing. He was overly protective when it came to Ava. That instinct was still present.

"Venom is deadly," French answered. "But then you should know that, shouldn't you?"

Of course Remy knew that, but French made it sound as if Remy knew Venom firsthand. "Spit it out, French. I don't have time for games. You know more about Venom than I do. You have a boat loaded with their cargo. Or is it yours and you're just f.u.c.king with me? Are you Venom?"

French smirked, humor lighting his eyes, but then he shook his head. "I've been able to intercept a few exchanges."

"Is that how you got this s.h.i.+p, how you're funding it?"

French stared at Remy as if wanting to say something but then thought better of it.

"At least tell me who has Ava," Remy said.

"It could be almost anyone. Venom has made enemies everywhere."

"Then tell me what you know about Venom. No bulls.h.i.+t this time."

"Are you sure you don't want a drink?" French asked. "You might need it."

The only thing Remy needed was a gun.

Ava sat patiently on the metal chair. It wasn't as if she could go too far anyway. They had tied her wrists so tightly her fingers were numb.

She watched the door, waiting for it to open. After she had ordered the oaf to take her to the leader, he left, locking the door behind him. That had been at least an hour ago, and she hadn't heard anything since. Clearly, no one wanted to talk to her. They were just using her for leverage.

She refused to be used, especially in such a pathetic role.

Ava worked at the ties on her wrist, thinking back to everything that had happened. She wondered where Remy was and who had taken him. If she ever saw French again, she'd make him suffer. He knowingly sent them. He knew what was going to happen.

But it wasn't completely his fault. Ava could've put a stop to it if she hadn't been so eager to learn more . . . to maybe even see Remy again.

She sighed. What was it about him? Why was he at the center of things?

She wanted to cry, or better yet, kick something. She felt useless not knowing even basic information. Not even knowing where she was or who her captors were. How could she help Remy if she couldn't even help herself?

Ava turned her frustrations to the knot, digging in with her nails as her fingers strained in awkward positions. The knot slipped slightly. It was just enough to give her the extra grip she needed. She would be out of these binds in a few seconds.

The door swung open. Ava stilled as three men walked in. Two were masked by a black cloth draped over their faces like a veil so that only their eyes were visible. One wore none. He was not the biggest of the group, but his presence filled the cramped s.p.a.ce. He was definitely the leader.

"It's about time," Ava said, keeping her irritation and fear at bay.

The leader studied Ava as hard as she studied him. At first, she had suspected that she was held captive by Middle Eastern terrorists, but after looking at him, she wasn't so sure. He still had a dark complexion with raven hair and eyes to match, but his features could be considered European. He wore black slacks and a crisp white b.u.t.ton-down s.h.i.+rt. An oddity among the mix of flowing garb and swat gear she had seen the other men wearing.

"I'm not normally summoned by a prisoner," he said in a British accent that made Ava even more confused as to who this man was.

"I'm not normally kidnapped," she retorted, feeling the binding loosen as she kept working at it. If she tugged hard enough, she could free herself.

"And I normally would've refused to speak with you." His tone was biting. Ava felt the rage.

"Then why are you here?"

"What do you want?" he asked.

"You want Venom."

"That was clear in the ransom video."

"I want Venom too. We can work together."

His laugh echoed through the empty room. Ava didn't think he'd agree, especially not right away, but he didn't have to laugh as though she'd said something humorous. If it meant taking down Venom, she would help them . . . for now.

He turned to leave.

"I'm serious," she said, halting his footsteps. "I have information, and I can help."

He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Why? Do you know who we are, what we are fighting for?"

"I don't need to know. I don't care who you are."

"Then why?"

"Revenge," Ava said. It was a simple answer, and it was true. They didn't need to know anything else.

The man uncrossed his arms. "I don't need your help," he said, turning once again to leave.

"Don't make me your enemy," Ava warned.

"You already are."

"At least tell me your name."

"Natan." He flicked his gaze on her one last time before he left. One man trailed after him, leaving the other behind to guard her.

She smiled prettily up at the man who towered over her, allowing her binding to slip free.

He looked tired. Perhaps a nap might cheer him up.

"Ava was sent in from CID. It was a.s.sumed someone from our platoon was leaking information. Weapons were being stolen from under our noses, and it always linked back to us," French said. His fingers listlessly spun the globe.

"I know this already," Remy said. "Tell me something I don't know."

"It was never us. Ava and I came to the same conclusion. We were being watched and used."

"By whom?" Remy asked.

"By Venom."

"Ava had said there was a cover-up, that someone listed us as dead."

French nodded. "It was a botched job. Ava was called back to CID, and David wound up in the hospital. Luckily for them, they both escaped in time or I don't think they'd be around today."

"Where were you?"

"Hiding. Waiting," French said, taking a pen from his desk. He mindlessly flipped it back and forth through his fingers. "I still see them, you know? Dead. Time doesn't erase all memories." His hand gripped the pen, grasping it as if it were his only lifeline. His jaw muscle twitched as he held on.

Remy watched and waited, searching for a glimpse of the Jeremy French he once knew. But the man before him, fighting a battle in his mind, was no longer the timid soldier. Remy didn't know what to think or even whether to trust his instincts. Everyone had changed, but what he saw in French was dark and consumed. Bitter. He could sense the rage simmering, even though French tried to hide it with unaffected shrugs and smirks.

"There must be more," Remy said, bringing French back to the present. "Why would you continue for so long? It won't bring anyone back." Remy understood the need to right the wrong, but the Jeremy French he knew had been lost along the way. What kept propelling him on this path?