Never Alone

Chapter 22

     "What do you mean she got away?" He clenched his hand into a tight fist and pounded it on the arm of burgundy, leather chair in which he reclined. A fire crackled in the rustic, stone fireplace across from his desk, and his ire rose along with the glowing flames. "You had one job, Bagwell, and it shouldn't be this difficult."

The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat. "You see, Sir, she had a man with her."

"I don't care if she had all the Knights of the Round Table guarding her! I pay you for results, and from where I'm sitting, it looks like our business arrangement is nearing its end."

"No...no, Sir, please...give me another chance."

"Let me talk to Latimer," he hissed into the phone. "Maybe your partner will be less of a sniveling baby. I'm sick of your excuses and your begging."

"You see, Sir, Latimer...he didn't-he didn't make it, Sir."

"What do you mean, he didn't make it?"

"The man who was with Annie Turner...he had a gun. He killed Latimer before they escaped."

"And where were you while all this was happening?"

"She sprayed something in my eyes. I couldn't see a thing."

"So you were lying on the ground while your partner was killed? Oh, that's rich!" The musical sound of laughter in the hallway drew his attention, and he saw the long, blonde curls of his two granddaughters bobbing as they skipped down the plush, red carpet toward him. "Hold on a minute, Bagwell." He set the phone down on the arm of the chair.

Holding his arms out to the two little girls wearing identical pink dresses, he gathered them into a bear hug. "Girls, I'm dealing with some business right now," he squeezed them tight. "Let me get this finished up and we can play all afternoon. Does that sound like a deal?"

They turned sparkling green eyes on him, and the older of the two spoke up. "Yes, Poppy. But only if you promise to give us piggyback rides." Both girls giggled and looked up at him expectantly.

"Of course!" He planted a light kiss on the girl's rosy cheek. "Now run along, and I'll come find you once I get all this nasty business taken care of."

"Ok, Poppy," the girls chirped in unison as they skipped out the door and down the hall.

Retrieving the phone, he barked into the receiver, "Bagwell!"

"Yes, Boss?"

"I'm not going to sugarcoat things for you...I'm very disappointed in your pathetic performance." His words were met with silence, which was exactly what he expected. None of his employees dared talk back to him. "What do you plan to do to bring this Annie Turner in? It is vital to the Organization that we...speak with her. She was Tracy McAllister's roommate, and I expect she knows where Dr. Winthrop is hiding."

"Sir, she and the man helping her disappeared. What do you expect me to do?"

He rolled his eyes at the complete stupidity of his underling. "It is completely obvious to anyone with a functioning brain that they're hiding off the grid somewhere."

"And how do we find them without cell phones to trace? If they're holed up in the middle of nowhere, where would I begin looking?"

"What kind of vehicle were they driving?" He clenched his fist once more. If good help wasn't so hard to come by, he wouldn't be walking this imbecile through a simple task.

"It was a pickup...I think it was black."

"The color makes no difference to me you idiot! What was the make and model? Do you have any idea how old it was? These are details that actually matter!" He took a deep breath, rested the phone between his cheek and shoulder, and measured his pulse. This moron was bringing his already high blood pressure through the roof.

"I think it was a Dodge...maybe a Ford. It was at least ten years old...maybe five."

Taking a deep breath, he counted to ten before speaking though it did little to cool his burning wrath. "Judging by the very useless information you just gave me, I would say a tank of gas would get them about 425 miles. I shouldn't have to draw a circle on a map for you, but something tells me I better or you'll find a way to botch it! Once I send you the search area, I will put in a call to the CIA and we'll get helicopters combing the area. Night time will be the best time to look because we'll be able to spot campfires from overhead with no problem. Does this make sense to you, or should I get out the puppets and crayons and walk you through it again?"

"I understand, Sir."

For the first time since the conversation began, he was confident his wishes were completely understood.

"Once we get her, what would you like me to do?"

"Take her to the warehouse. Do what you have to do to get her to talk. We need to know Dr. Winthrop's exact location and I'm confident she knows where he is. I cannot stress enough how important getting Winthrop out of the way is to the Organization. If you mess this up, your relationship with us will be terminated. You've worked for us long enough to know what I mean by that I hope."

"Yes, Sir. I promise I won't let you down, Sir." He could hear the fear lacing Bagwell's quaking voice, and a smile turned the corners of his mouth upward.

"One more thing, Boss," Bagwell cleared his throat nervously.

"And what's that?"

"What about the guy she was with? If he's still with her..."

"Kill him," he waved his hand in the air dismissively as he uttered the words.

"Kill him?"

"He's of no use to the Organization. He is in the way, and I expect you to take care of it."

"But...how?"

"Shoot him, strangle him, drown him, hold a plastic bag over his head! I don't care how you do it...just do it!"

"Yes-yes, Sir. I'll do it."

"See that you do. I will send you a map of the area you need to search. As soon as you receive it, call Grimes with the CIA. He'll be expecting your call." Not waiting to hear a reply, he ended the call and sat back in his chair for a moment. He sighed as the stress of speaking with Bagwell slowly eased away and a tension headache settled in his neck and shoulders.

His thoughts turned to Annie Turner, a woman he never laid eyes on in his life. She had no idea what she got herself into. His grip on the arms of the chair tightened until his knuckles turned white. Hopefully, she would give up the information easily. He hated when these little people tried to be heroes. They didn't stand a chance against the Organization, so why put up such a fight?

A knock at the door drew him away from his brooding. "Come in," he said gruffly.

The polished, mahogany door creaked open slowly, and two little blonde heads peeked through the opening. "Are you done with work, Poppy?" the younger girl asked with a wide smile on her pink lips.

"I just finished," he stood and walked toward the door. "Who wants the first piggy-back ride?"