Free Hunt the Dragon by Don Mann Page B

vehicle? How?”
    “Matches and my shirt.”
    “You better?” he asked, his chest heaving and sweat beading on his forehead.
    “My whole right side is fucked, but I can move.”
    “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”
    He ran and recovered the Pelican, then crossed to the intact Escalade. The handle was hot but the door wasn’t locked. He took a quick look at the other Escalade burning twenty feet away and quickly catalogued the things he needed to do: hot-wire the SUV, rush his colleague to a hospital, find his phone, and call Jeri.
    As he pried off the housing around the ignition box, he remembered two more things: He’d left Cyndi waiting, and he wanted to call Jenny, too. She always seemed nearby, even when she wasn’t. He’d felt the same about Holly, and thought for a second that maybe there was still a chance to sort things out. Then he reminded himself that their marriage was over. He had to come to terms with that. He would.
      
    James Dawkins woke to a continuous hum in his head, as though the song he was listening to had gotten stuck. It took effort to partially open his eyes, and when he did, he saw white and mustard colors and a shape directly in front of him. He made out a broad-shouldered Asian man sitting across from him wearing an implacable expression and sunglasses.
    Dawkins sat up in the cream-colored leather seat. His left arm felt numb. As he shook blood into it, the Asian man looked past his shoulder and called to someone in a language Dawkins didn’t understand.
    “Where are we?” he asked.
    The man didn’t respond. Dawkins blinked, looked left and right, and slowly realized he was in a small jet that was airborne and probably had been for a while. Before he had a chance to think another thought, an Asian woman with sharp cheekbones and wearing a black pantsuit sat beside him, bringing a scent of soap.
    “Did you rest well, Mr. Dawkins?” she asked gently in accented English.
    She wasn’t Dr. Nikasa, and as his brain brightened into consciousness, details began to come back—the speech in Geneva, the drinks in the hotel suite, now this. “I…uh…Where am I? How did I get here? Where is Dr. Nikasa?” he asked.
    The woman’s mechanical smile never left her face. “Okay, Mr. Dawkins. If you wish me to explain, I will.”
    His blood pressure spiked. “I…I don’t know why I’m here. I must have been taken against my will.”
    She took a long breath and spoke quickly. “Mr. Dawkins, we have hired you for a short period of time. Two months probably. Three months at the most.”
    His mouth turned dry and his neck grew hot. “Hired me? I don’t understand.”
    “Once you have completed the task we ask of you, you will be returned home safely.”
    Did this have something to with his job a UTC Aerospace? “Who has hired me?” he asked.
    “While you are with us, we will treat you with the highest respect and take care of your needs,” she said, hands folded in her lap. “At the end of your stay with us, Mr. Dawkins, we will wire-transfer a million U.S. dollars into your Chase account.”
    The mention of the million dollars stopped him. “No, there’s been a mistake. I never agreed to this. I want to go home.”
    She leaned closer and slightly parted her lips expectantly. For a second he wasn’t sure if she was going to bite him or kiss him. Instead, she stretched her mouth into the same mechanical smile. “I am here to answer your questions.”
    “Okay…First…Who do you work for?”
    “There is no reason to be afraid.”
    “Please answer my question.” An acute sense of alarm buzzed at the base of his spine.
    “While you are away, Mr. Dawkins, your family will be taken care of. We have already wired one hundred thousand dollars to your joint checking account for that purpose. We have people who will attend to the needs of wife and daughter.”
    She seemed to be reciting from a memorized script.
    “What’s your name?” he asked.
    “Miss Alice Wa.”
    “Okay,