Dane

Pleased with himself for thinking of the gift he stopped to get for Lila, Dane arrived at John's "office" brimming with nervous tension. But, as usual, John's dry and completely unflappable way of addressing everything Dane threw at him, helped him calm. Even John was rocked back on his heels when he heard what Dane wanted to do though.

​​

"You're certain you want to try this?" he asked for the fourth time in the past hour.

Dane gave him a flat look and they both moved on.

"I think our best bet will be the explosive plastics. They're definitely designed for that kind of—"

John's thought was interrupted by Dane's phone sending up a shrill and insistent ringing, the screen glowing red.

"Fuck," Dane snapped, picking up the phone and reading it intently.

CODE RED.

CLIENT MISSING.

ALL NON-VITAL STAFF TO HQ IMMEDIATELY.

"Fuck!" he said again. "I'm sorry, John, but I'm going to have to leave this with you. Are we certain this is the best route, or should I come back after I've figured out this dumpster fire?"

"I'm certain. For what you're describing, that's definitely the smallest and best chance to avoid detection."

"How soon can you get one to me?"

John grinned. "I've already got one. If you can wait about two minutes, I can have it online and you can take it now."

Dane looked at his phone. "Okay, sure. I'll call the car and Chris. You get it together."

John hopped out of his chair, more lively than Dane usually saw him—he always loved it when they got into gadgets—then bumbled off into one of his storage rooms while Dane punched the button to call the car to be ready, then dialed Chris.

"Dane?"

"What's going on?"

"We need you here, now," Chris said, his voice tight. He covered the phone to speak with someone else behind him, then came back. "Now, Dane."

"I'm sixty seconds from the car, and about a fifteen or twenty minute drive away at this time of night. Can you debrief—"

"No, Dane. Code Red. For real. Sensitive. Get in here. No phone contact."

Dane sighed, just what he needed. Yet another emergency. What had his father done this time? "I'll be there in less than twenty," he said firmly and they both hung up.

John was back a minute later and handed him the tiny gadget in a plastic box and Dane transferred it to his briefcase. "Thanks, John. I really appreciate it."

"I've got it registered and tracked. I'll have it online in a couple hours. Just let me know when you want to activate."

"You're a life-saver."

"Just make sure you give the Police those ID details I sent you."

"I will, John, I have to go."

Dane was out the door and into the car and Yosif got him back to the office in sixteen minutes.

The Code Red warning went off two more times, which Dane knew was protocol, but with his nerves already on high alert, he startled both times the car jangled with his and Yosif's phones going off together.

"Do you know who it is, boss?" Yosif asked after the second recall.

"No. Too sensitive. So it's got to be tier one. Chris wasn't talking on open lines." Now that he'd sorted things out with John, Dane's mind was turning back to Lila and the gift that he wasn't going to be able to deliver tonight after all.

Fuck. There were too many things happening and he couldn't hold them all in his mind at once. His father, the bastard, was hitting on all fronts. His mind swam with the possible targets—most likely their highest profile. Since he hadn't been able to get to Lila

Dane put the barrier up between he and Yosif, murmuring some excuse about a call, then pulled out the burner phone to text her.

I WON'T MAKE IT TONIGHT, BUT LOOK FOR ME EARLY IN THE MORNING. SLEEP WHILE YOU CAN. I'LL WAKE YOU. I LOVE YOU. STAY SAFE.

Then he turned the phone off and locked it in the small, hidden slot at the back of his briefcase where it wouldn't be seen even if he opened it.

As soon as Yosif pulled the car up to the elevator bay, he was out of the door and running up the stairs since he'd get there faster and he needed to move.

When he burst through the door into the reception area, he had to blink a few times. The office was humming. So many staff had answered the call, it was like the middle of a normal day. Even the new receptionist was in and running coffees down to the conference room.

But the thing that stopped Dane in his tracks was seeing Tonya, standing in the hallway talking to the other young researcher, Grant, and she was in tears. He had a hand on her shoulder and was patting it lamely—under different circumstances Dane would have rolled his eyes. But instead, a tiny thread of fear began to wind its way around his heart as he stalked down the hall towards the conference room, where the door was open and the lights were on, and a large number of staff were already milling around.

Obviously, whoever had been taken was a staff favorite. That only left a few, very high profile, very vulnerable options.

Shit.

When he got to the conference room, Chris was explaining something to a knot of staff at the front of the room, but as soon as he walked it, it went silent. Everyone watched, tense, as he walked up to Chris, who tipped his head at Tank—who was standing near the window—and started towards Dane before he'd even reached them.

"What's going on?" Dane said, his voice low and hard. "Who'd he get?"

"Let's got to your office, I'll explain there."

Chris wasn't meeting his eyes and Dane's fear ratcheted up a notch. Then another, when Chris got to the hallway and snapped his fingers, getting Josh's attention who was walking up from the reception area in full night attire, which meant he had to have been called off shift.

Whatever this was, it wasn't good. And Dane knew he had to keep focused and calm.

Holy, fucking, shit. The day he could wake up and not worry about what his father was going to throw in his path, he was going to feel like a man released from Death Row.

He clenched his teeth and followed Chris.

*****

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