Death on Pause by Derek N. Burnell

Author:Derek N. Burnell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Strategic Book Publishing and Rights Co.

TWENTY

San Francisco, Friday, January 26 th, 2007.

Travis sat at his desk before the picture window. He should have been at the gym instructing his Pilates class, but since Kaelyn’s kidnapping he’d been too scared to leave his cellphone unattended in case he might miss a call from Lia or Ron. In his left hand he held one of the Warhammer figurines he purchased the day before. And between the fingers of his right hand he held a paintbrush, the nib of which consisted of just three human hairs. He dipped it into a small bottle of fluorescent red paint, and then moved it toward the High Elf Phoenix Guard. When the brush was just a fraction of an inch from the Guard’s eyeball, the cell-phone beside him began to ring. It startled him, and caused him to smear paint up the side of the Guard’s helmet.

“Fuck!” He threw the figurine and brush on the floor in frustration.

Pushing his chair from the desk, he raked his face with his hands as he inhaled deep breaths to calm his racing heart. Snatching the ringing phone from the desk, he flipped the lid and held it to his ear.

“What!” he barked.

“Whoa,” came the familiar voice through the earpiece. “Is that you, Travis? Are you alright?”

“Sorry, Ron.” Travis spun the chair about and turned his eyes to the floor in search of the discarded Warhammer. “I was just in the middle of something and you gave me a fright.”

“Sorry. I hope it wasn’t anything important.”

“No. Nothing important. I was just trying to concentrate on something other than K and her situation.”

He picked up the figurine from beneath the desk and sat it amongst the others. Rising from the chair, he set off aimlessly about the room.

“So what’s the latest? Did you have any luck with the emails I forwarded you?”

“Not a lot, I’m afraid. Although we did find out they were all sent from Internet cafes within a three-mile radius of each other. It would appear Kaelyn is being held somewhere in the Sanchong, Datong or Shihlin districts.”

“That sounds like quite a large area.”

“Big enough. And quite densely populated also.”

“What about the bank? Has the money been transferred into that account you gave me?”

“No money,” admitted Ron, sounding apologetic. “But the account was set up to look genuine anyway. We backdated the establishment date to make it look like Kaelyn has had money in it for at least ten years. We even included interest payments each year, just in case someone checked the account’s authenticity.”

“That’s smart. Love ya work, Ron. So what do we do now? Do you have men watching the bank?”

“Better than that, it’s under constant surveillance from both inside and out. I have two of my best men there. And the Taiwanese have put undercover men into the bank as Assistant Manager, tellers, and security officers. They’ve even gone so far as to falsify their employment records to appear as if they’ve worked at the bank for a minimum of two years.

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