Dolby(38)
Author: Maryann Jordan

 

“We go outside.”

 

About to refuse the offer, preferring to stay in the room since it seemed safer, the man ordered, “Come. Now.”

 

Shooting her gaze back to Tudora, the other woman was smiling, but Marcia wondered if that was because Tudora had no idea what might be happening. Looking down at her bare feet, she said, “I have no shoes.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she realized that kidnappers and possible murderers couldn’t care less about her bare feet.

 

“Here.”

 

Lifting her chin, she saw the flip-flops in Tudora’s hands and the smile still on her face.

 

“Come. Now,” the man repeated, his voice less soft this time.

 

Not knowing what she was facing, she steeled her spine, clenched her fingers tightly, and reached for the footwear. Slipping her feet into the flip-flops, she glanced around, wondering if she’d ever see the room again. Like a prisoner heading to a firing squad, she forced her feet to move and followed Tudora and the man out of the room.

 

 

 

 

 

17

 

 

 

 

 

Dolby headed home after another day of the mission, planning to pack before meeting with the others who were flying out with him. He’d hated the time it took to make all the arrangements but knew that, in the end, he trusted his Keeper team explicitly. Before leaving the compound, they’d met with Teddy to make sure they had the equipment and weapons necessary. With handshakes, he’d left the ones working the mission from their home base.

 

Now, in his bedroom, he grabbed his duffel, which he kept pre-packed for missions. Walking back into his living room, he caught sight of Marcia’s luggage that Angela had taken from her house and given to him.

 

He unzipped the larger piece and was immediately hit with the vanilla scent he remembered so well from the night they were in the lighthouse to the way her sweet smell surrounded him when she was in his lap as they kissed. He picked up each piece of clothing, seeing that she’d packed light for her few nights at her friend’s place.

 

His fingers met and curled around a small, hard object as he lay her clothes back into the suitcase. Withdrawing it, he stared at the dove figurine. He remembered her words when he spied her collection at her house.

 

“They remind me of hope and encouragement from… well, they just make me feel less alone.”

 

Slipping the figurine into his duffel, he grabbed his phone. He typed “dove” into the search engine, and the air seemed to thicken, making it hard to breathe. Clicking through every site, they all said basically the same thing– according to lore, seeing a mourning dove, a person senses a message of encouragement and hope from the deceased loved one.

 

Her family. Gut punched again with the reality that her entire family had passed. He wondered what message she received when she thought of her twin brother. Christ, she’s so much stronger than she realizes.

 

Sucking in a deep breath, he jerked out of his musings, knowing they had their time and place. And right now, he needed to get his head on the mission. Hearing the approaching vehicle, he grabbed his equipment and duffel and secured his house.

 

As one of their pilots, Adam would be on the active mission. Poole, with explosives expertise, and Bennett, as a former Ranger sniper, would round out their on-the-ground team with Dolby. They had a plan, but not knowing what they were going up against, they wanted strength in numbers.

 

Natalie, Abbie, Jeb, Chris, Hop, and Rick would be back in the compound in shifts, sending in the intel as well as the ever-changing mission logistics, working with Carson and Leo, who would be directing the mission. As far as Carson was concerned, this was a full team effort until Marcia returned.

 

Storing his bags in the back of Adam’s SUV, he climbed into the back seat, greeting Poole and Bennett. Landon was meeting them at the airport.

 

The first leg of their trip would be a chartered mid-jet to Hawaii. The flight would only take about six hours, and Landon would accompany them. The others chatted on the way to the private airport in Los Angeles, but Dolby just leaned his head against the window and stared out. He tried to imagine what Marcia was doing, how she was holding up, and whether she was being taken care of or abused. Squeezing his eyes shut, he attempted to hide the shiver that raced over his body. He was used to controlling all his movements, but it seemed his feelings for her had crept deep inside, making it impossible for him to keep his emotions in check.

 

Finally arriving at the airport, they drove straight to the private jet Landon had arranged for them. After meeting him, they all went through the introductions and then boarded. The jet accommodations were more than adequate, with leather seats that could recline flat, a bar and food service, and two large bathrooms.

 

Settling in, he was anxious to get started and felt a sense of relief when they were wheels up in the air on their way to Honolulu.

 

 

 

 

 

Marcia followed the man out of the closet and looked around in surprise. A clinic. She was in the ship’s clinic. It was pristine and very empty. Surprised that she’d been placed in a supply closet in an area that could have easily had crew members around, she remembered the threat given. Not that it had been very far from her mind.

 

Before she had time to wonder more about her place of captivity and threats of violation, the man led her out and down a short hall with Tudora at her side. Her heart pounded as they came to a heavy metal door. She stopped suddenly, and the man pushed open the door, stepping through it. Filled with trepidation, she flexed her fingers again. She followed him, her steps hesitant, and then her feet stumbled to a halt. They were outside on a small deck, the brilliant blue sky above, the sun beaming down, and the strong breeze blowing across her face causing her to gasp. If this was serving as a last meal, then she wanted to soak up the warmth and light.

 

“Oh,” she exclaimed, lifting her face upward, feeling the fresh air and sunshine.

 

Tudora’s soft voice came from behind. “You like?”

 

She nodded. “Yes.” The deck was very small, and there was no one else around who could see them. The sound of engines as the ship sliced through the water met her ears, and she knew that even if she screamed as loudly as she could, no one would hear her. And who would come to my rescue? For all she imagined, the other crew members were all part of the kidnapping.

 

“I’m glad,” Tudora said.

 

Jerking around, she stared at the woman who nodded shyly, having no idea what to say in response. She knew that Tudora was referring to the trip outside, but it was so evident that Marcia was a prisoner. How can she be glad for me? Her earlier fear was now replaced with anger that threatened to choke her. You want me to be happy that you’ve snatched me from my life? That I’m a prisoner being held in a closet?