Chasing Power (Hidden Talents) Read Online Free Page B

trust him after their first encounter.  And there was no way he could face the Corp alone, not when he lacked the element of surprise.  He needed help. 
    He knew of at least one willing man-at-arms:  Al wouldn’t even need convincing; he’d been angling for Lane’s job for at least a year, and he’d just been talking about using his vacation days to make a road trip.  Drop in a hint of adventure and it would be easy to make him move his plans up.  Harry might be tougher, but he could be pulled in with an appeal to loyalty.  Pulling onto the 110 North, Lane flipped his cell open and hit the speed dial.
    #
    The second time she woke, she felt considerably better than the first.  But by this point Sam knew better than to trust her feelings.  The low hum, faint vibration, and seatbelt lumped around her stomach told her she was in a car.  Slitting her eyes open, she took stock of the situation.  She was laid out in a back seat of a four-door car, her feet propped up on something—actually, she realized, someone.
    “She’s awake!  Lane, she just woke up.”
    This tense voice was a new one, pitched high with stress.  The second voice that joined it was more of a baritone, and more excited: “Oh, awesome!  Lane, why don’t you let me take the wheel so you can do your mojo again?”
    Sam squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pretend she was asleep so these guys—whoever they were—would decide against knocking her out again.
    “Ha ha—no you can’t drive.  Nice try.  And let her wake up, it has to happen sometime and I don’t have the energy to keep her asleep forever.”
    This voice was unmistakable.  Her rescuer/kidnapper, now the driver, apparently.
    The person whose lap her legs were resting on shook her feet: “We know you’re conscious.”
    Sam shrugged and sat up, noticing her headache was gone.  Nice.  How long had it been since she could last think straight?  A week?  She guessed a little oxygen deprivation and enforced rest was all she’d needed.  Thinking of which, “Where are you taking me?”
    Three pairs of eyes were now on her, and for the first time Sam got a good look at her kidnappers.  Not exactly what she’d imagine as girl snatcher types.  All in their mid to late twenties, they seemed so, so... normal.
    Sitting shotgun was a good-looking guy with a dark complexion, wearing an “isn’t this fun!” grin.  He looked to be of Middle Eastern heritage, but his bearing was more of a surfer dude.  Her feet rested on a slightly pudgy blonde whose curly blond hair, glasses, and round face put her in mind of a teddy bear.  OK.  So maybe they didn’t fit the profile perfectly.  But true psychopaths rarely did, right? 
    Samantha took a deep breath.  Maybe her best bet here would be the rational approach: “Look,” she said, “I don’t know what is going on here, but I do know what you’re doing is a felony.  You need to stop the car and let me out.  Right now.”
    Blondie shrugged, “That might be a tad problematic.”
    “Problematic?” Sam said, “How?”
    “You’re a couple hundred miles from home,” the surfer dude supplied helpfully.
    “A couple—” Sam looked out the window, jaw dropping.  Sure enough, the big city had disappeared, giving way to less than scenic desert.  They were heading east on the 10. The numerous, skeletal Joshua trees dotting the flat landscape were a dead giveaway.  The night stretched out, long and endless across the desert.
     “Shit.”  She muttered, then, louder, “Stop the car.  I want out.  I want out now .”
    “Hey, Al,” Blondie said caustically, “Way to freak her out.  Why don’t you just tell her we’re aliens?”
    “You think you’re aliens?” Sam said, garbling the words.
    A strangled laugh erupted from the front driver’s seat.  Lane coughed and looked at Sam in the rear-view mirror, “Sorry.  You have to give Al and Harry a break.  We’re new at this.”
    “Kidnapping?”
    “Rescuing you,”