He waited until the bathroom door was closed and flipped on the light. No use sending out a beacon to any onlookers that would remind them of the possibility of front-to-back adjoining rooms. True to Kira’s word there was a Browning semiautomatic, its clip full, and a combat knife lying on the floor. Desh was shocked to also find the keys to the Ford and what must have been a spare pair of night-vision goggles next to the weapons. She knew he would be coming after her, despite her brief head start, so why arm him and provide him with night-vision and a car?
Desh frowned. Because she was confident it wouldn’t matter. She knew he couldn’t catch her, even still. She wouldn’t have planned an impeccable ambush and a way to exit the motel undetected without planning an escape route as well. He had no doubt she had another car ready to go, parked and waiting for her just on the other side of the stretch of woods that abutted the motel.
Desh pocketed the gun and keys and made quick work of his ankle restraints with the knife. It was a relief to have complete freedom of movement again. He strapped the goggles on his head and grabbed a neatly folded towel from a small shelf in the bathroom. He rushed back to the wounded man as he lay unconscious, wrapping the towel tightly around his thigh.
The men had carried identical guns that were now lying on the floor near them. Desh picked one up and examined it, surprised that he didn’t recognize the make. As he pulled the clip his eyes widened. It was a tranquilizer gun. Designed to shoot darts instead of bullets.
He patted both men down. While neither possessed any personal items or identification, which didn’t surprise him, they each carried semiautomatic pistols along with the tranquilizer guns. They had possessed lethal firepower but had been intent on taking their quarry alive. Interesting. But who were they, exactly? And what were they doing here? Kira Miller’s explanation that he was being followed by his own people was the most likely, but still didn’t make sense. It wasn’t as though he couldn’t be trusted to report back once he had found her.
What now? He could charge after her, but he was certain he wouldn’t catch her. Desh knew he didn’t have much time before the police would be arriving. The man she had shot may have been lying about the sniper, but it was just as likely he hadn’t been. And Desh didn’t have her supposed ability to become invisible to thermal imagers. He wasn’t about to be the first heat-emitting humanoid to rush out the front door. Still, he had to regroup, and the last thing he needed was to be in the room when the police came calling. This left only one choice: he had to leave out the back, through the adjoining room, as she had done.
Kira Miller had told him to trust no one, and regardless of what he might think of the veracity of anything else she said, this was sensible advice. He was in far over his head, and until he had a much better sense of what was happening and who the players were, he wasn’t prepared to trust his own shadow.
Desh pocketed the shorter man’s cell phone and tranquilizer gun and wrapped the other tranquilizer gun and the two pistols in a towel. He moved into the adjoining room, tossed the towel on the bed, and closed both doors, plunging himself yet again into darkness. He felt for the dead-bolt, locked the adjoining door on his side, and then flipped open the cell phone he had taken. The phone’s glow provided enough illumination with which to dial and navigate the room. He had memorized Jim Connelly’s private home number and dialed it rapidly.
The phone rang three times while Desh waited anxiously.
“Hello,” rasped Connelly sleepily.
“Colonel, it’s David Desh.”
“David?” mumbled Connelly in surprise. “Jesus, David, it’s three in the morning,” he complained, but then began to awaken more fully as the significance of the call registered on his barely conscious brain. His voice picked up strength as his adrenaline levels spiked. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, but I need to know something,” said Desh in hushed tones.
“Are you under duress?” said Connelly carefully, now fully alert.
“No, I’m alone.”
“We need to get to a secure line,” insisted Connelly. “I know you remember our discussion. I hadn’t expected to hear from you,” he added pointedly, as if Desh needed reminding that Connelly had given him explicit instructions not to call him and to stay well clear of military channels.
“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to tip off our quarry,” said Desh sardonically. He paused and then added, “Unfortunately, it’s a little late for that.”
“She knows you’re on the case?”
“You could say that,” replied Desh. “In fact, you could say that I was just abducted,” he continued. “And it wasn’t by aliens.”
“What?” whispered the colonel in disbelief. “But why? It makes no sense.” He paused in thought. “Unless she thought you were getting close.”
“She didn’t, and I wasn’t,” continued Desh hurriedly, acutely aware that the police could arrive at any moment. Worse still, the two men in the adjoining room could regain their consciousness, or their sniper friend could lose his patience with his colleagues and come to investigate. “She tried to convince me she was innocent. I have very little time, so I’ll tell you about that later. But I need to know something. Two military types crashed the party and ran her off. Were they yours?”