Sharon Sala - Race Against Time

By the time he got back on the streets, he’d obviously lost his target. There was nothing he could do but keep moving down the main drag and hope for the best. One minute passed into another, and just when he was beginning to think he was done, he saw the motorcycle weaving through traffic at a fast clip.

The knot in his belly eased. Pissing Anton Baba off was never a good risk and not coming back with his son could be a deadly error.

He followed the biker through every twist and turn, hoping for a chance to get rid of her and grab the kid, but with the traffic he couldn’t get nearly close enough to them. He didn’t realize she was heading to the police station until it was too late to stop her, and she was inside by the time he parked. He picked a place where he could watch the front entrance, then made a quick call to Anton to let him know his son was still alive.

* * *

Ian pulled up to the gates at the Baba estate and keyed the number pad to let himself in. He could hear Anton’s woman kicking and screaming in the trunk and was somewhat worried that he didn’t have the kid, as well.

As the gates swung inward, he sped up the drive and around the mansion to the delivery entrance in back. He’d already called to let Baba know he was on the way and was not surprised to see the man himself standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the lights behind him.

* * *

“Well, where are they?” Baba asked, as Ian got out of the car and headed to the back of the car and opened the trunk.

Star had cried all the way into the city, so by the time the trunk was opened, her eyes were nearly swollen shut, her bloody back was visible, and she was screaming.

Anton was shocked at the condition she was in, and the fact that the baby was missing was even more troubling.

“Where is my son?” Anton shouted, but she wouldn’t stop screaming.

“Get her inside!” he said and strode back into the house.

Ian picked her up and followed his boss through the house to the library.

“Put her down,” Anton said.

Ian dropped her on the floor at Anton’s feet, ignoring her low moan of pain.

Anton looked at her in disgust.

“So she is here, but where is my son?” he asked.

Star was sobbing uncontrollably as she rolled over on her hands and knees and dragged herself upright.

“You killed our son!” she screamed and launched herself at Anton, hammering at his chest with her fists. “They shot at us over and over. We wrecked. Why? Why? If you didn’t want us anymore, why didn’t you just let us go?”

Anton reeled. Sammy was dead?

“No, no, that can’t be,” he moaned, then turned on Ian. “What did I tell you to do?”

“Find them and bring them back,” Ian muttered.

Star was playing the grieving mother to the hilt and nailed Anton again.

“Why do you care? You were going to sell me. I heard you! I couldn’t lose my baby, and then you let them shoot at us! Just because you didn’t want him doesn’t mean I didn’t either. He was my life! He was a part of you! I thought we mattered. I thought we were a family! If you hadn’t been such a miserable greedy bastard, none of this would have happened. I hate you, I hate you,” she sobbed and then collapsed at his feet.

For one of the few times in his life, Anton Baba felt regret. He knelt beside her.

“What made you think that?” he asked.

“I heard you! I heard you making the deal! I curse you, Anton Baba. Your evil, ugly world is going to fall down around your ears.”

She moaned, a sound so bereft and hopeless it cut to what conscience he had left. He put a hand on her back and then flinched when she screamed out in pain. He pulled his hand away covered in blood.

He looked up at Ian with a cold, emotionless stare.

“What did you do?” he asked.

Ian shrugged. “Only what you told us to do.”

Star shrieked and began scooting backward away from Anton.

“You told him to shoot at us? He shot out the tires. I was thrown out of the car when it began to roll,” she said. “I want to die. My baby died. I want to die, too.”

Rage washed through Anton in waves, but he was calm as he stood up and turned around.

“Why did you shoot at them?” he asked.

Ian should have been warned by the quiet tone of his boss’s voice.

“They were getting away.”

“Where’s Dev? Where’s Bergman and his men?”

“Bergman and his crew are dead. Dev and I found them in an alley.” He pointed to the floor at Star. “We followed her and your cook out of Vegas. I don’t know who the man was with them. Dev was behind them. He shot at their car. They shot out his windshield. And then their car skidded off the highway and into the desert. We tried to stop them. The car rolled and caught fire. I left him behind to clean up.”

All the color faded from Anton’s face.

“You left my son.”

“The car was burning. There was nothing we could—”

The roar that came out of Anton Baba was nothing short of terrifying as he pivoted and grabbed the daggerlike letter opener from the desk behind him.

At that moment, Ian knew he was done. He turned to run but was a couple of seconds too late. Anton leaped forward and stabbed the letter opener into the back of Ian’s neck, cutting the spinal cord and the blood supply to his brain. He dropped without making a sound.

Anton pulled the little dagger out and wiped it on the back of Ian’s shirt before dropping it back on his desk, then looked down again at the woman on the floor, at the blood and dirt on her body and the grief on her face.

“This should not have happened,” he muttered, then reached for his cell phone and punched in the number to the wing where his hired guns stayed.

His call was answered on the first ring.

“Yes, sir?”

“Luis, I need the cleanup crew in the library.”

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir,” Luis said.

Anton disconnected, looked at Star one more time and then made another call. The phone rang several times before it was answered.

“Dr. Fuentes, it’s Anton Baba. I need you.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Anton disconnected and dropped his cell back in his pocket and then went back to Star. The moment he picked her up in his arms, she cried out from the pain.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly and then carried her out of the library and all the way up to their bedroom. He could not put into words what he was feeling, but there was a pain in his heart and a roaring in his ears. His son was dead.

Anton laid her on the bed. He’d never seen her like this. Before, she’d been so passive, doing everything he demanded. He’d never looked beyond what she could do for him. But this woman...shattered, bloody, filthy, and so very broken in her grief. He saw her power and her rage and had never been attracted to her more.

His phone rang.

He took it out of his pocket, glanced at caller ID and then answered.

“Hello.”

“Boss, this is Dev. Is Ian there?”

Anton thought of the dead man in his library and the blood spreading over the Persian rug beneath his body.

“Yes, he is here,” Anton said.

“Okay, then you know what went down. I was still on site when a biker saw the fire and rode off the highway to where the car was burning. The moment the helmet came off I could see it was a woman. And then I saw her run toward the fire, and when she ran back toward her bike she was carrying the kid. I followed her to—”

Anton gasped.

“What did you say?”

“I said I followed her to—”

“No, no! You said someone took my son! He is alive?”

“Yes. I saw the biker pick him up and zip him up into her jacket. I tried to stop her but she got away. I followed her into Vegas but lost her in the traffic. When I caught up with her again she was already inside the police station.”