It was just after six when he slipped into the master bedroom and leaned over Lauren Rosenblatt, who was sleeping peacefully. These would be the last few seconds of peace this poor woman would have for a long time to come—and she had done nothing to deserve this. He frowned and shook his head. This was his fault. Rosenblatt had been compromised only because he had failed in his security responsibilities.
Desh reached down and put his hand over Lauren Rosenblatt’s mouth as firmly but as gently as possible, and held her head steady with his other hand.
She bolted awake instantly and began screaming. The sound was muffled by his palm.
“Seth sent me,” said Desh quickly as her muted screaming continued. “Lauren, listen to me. I’m not here to hurt you.”
Recovering from her initial shock, she stopped fighting and trying to scream and her eyes almost returned to their sockets. Desh loosened his hold, but didn’t remove his hand from over her mouth. “I’m with the think tank Seth consults for in Denver. There are some very bad people who want to get their hands on something he invented,” he added, knowing this wasn’t true, but needing to give her a simple explanation she could grasp instantly to justify his actions. “Your husband isn’t in Japan. He’s in trouble and so are you.”
Desh could tell she was fighting to get her panic under control and concentrate on what he was saying, which was a good sign. “Your phones and computers are tapped, so I couldn’t warn you,” he continued. “But I’ll do everything I can to protect you and your children. I’m going to remove my hand now. You can scream, but you’ll only panic your kids and make it harder for me to help you.” As he finished he released his hand from her mouth and took a few steps back.
She flipped on a dim lamp by the end table. “Where is my husband?” she blurted out in a tone that was just shy of hysterical.
“He’s in danger,” said Desh. “But he’s being looked after and he should be fine.” This last was a stretch, but he knew it was necessary.
“Why should I trust you?”
“Seth told you not to mention his consulting to anyone, correct?”
She nodded.
“So how would I know about it? Or that he wanted you to keep it secret? If I wanted to hurt you or your family, I could have done so already. The men I told you about are monitoring this house. The second I broke in I put myself in as much danger as you’re in. If we don’t work together, we don’t have a chance.”
She looked scared and unconvinced, and Desh sensed she was seconds away from either becoming paralyzed with indecision or breaking down. He made a decision instantly. “Look,” he continued, “we have to trust each other. So I’ll go first.”
He removed a taser from his pocket and tossed it gently beside her on the bed. “I’m guessing you’re not comfortable with a gun, but this will give you some protection.” He turned his back to her and sat on the floor by the side of her bed, facing away.
Lauren pressed the button on the black device, which looked like a smooth, extra-wide TV remote, and tiny bolts of brilliant white light arced between the electrodes at its business end, emitting a crackling, buzzing sound that was unmistakable. The device was only inches away from Desh’s neck, but he made no effort to move away or protect himself.
After a few seconds, she removed her finger from the button and the mini lightning bolt and the buzzing sound disappeared.
“We have to get moving,” urged Desh, lifting himself from the floor. “Get your kids and tell them we’re going on a surprise trip. No school today. Try to keep them groggy so they’ll fall back asleep when they’re in the car. I’m parked in the driveway. I’ll be in the car waiting. Every minute counts.”
Lauren stared at him uncertainly.
Desh gestured to the taser, still in her hand. “Look, there’s nothing else I can do right now to gain your trust. Either you’re with me or you’re not.”
Lauren Rosenblatt considered him for several additional seconds and then slipped the taser into one of her pajama pockets. She blinked as though fighting back tears. Given what he had thrown at her all at once, that she and her family were in jeopardy, and that her life was about to take a dramatic change in course, she was handling this well.
She wiped away a few tears that managed to escape, despite her best efforts. “Have the car doors open,” she said, her features hardening in determination. “I’ll be with you in two minutes.”
Desh returned to the driver’s seat of the SUV. True to her word, the garage door opened almost immediately and she walked out to his car. She carried one little girl on each hip, and her eight-year-old son Max trailed behind her like a baby duck, dressed in Iron Man pajamas and clinging to a small stuffed lion. All three kids looked at least half asleep.
Lauren’s eyes bored into Desh’s face. “You’d better not be some kind of psychopath,” she whispered to him as she began placing children in car seats in the back of the hulking Toyota.
Desh began driving the moment the door was closed, while Lauren continued to seatbelt her kids.
“Mommy,” said tiny Jessica sleepily from inside her pink, heart covered pajamas. “I have to go potty.”
“I know, Honey, and we’ll stop soon. Just hold it for a little longer.”
“I’ll try, Mommy,” she mumbled, closing her eyes once again. Her brother and sister had already fallen back asleep.
Lauren Rosenblatt leaned forward toward the front seat. “Where are we going?” she said in low tones.
“To just before an on-ramp near the intersection of the I80 and 480,” he whispered back. “Where several intersecting overpasses will screen us from satellites.”
“What?” she said in disbelief. “You’re not saying there are satellites watching us, are you?”
“Maybe not this second, but there will be soon enough.”
Lauren digested this for several seconds. “This is totally insane, you know.”
Desh sighed. “I know. And I couldn’t be sorrier.”
There was silence in the car for the next ten minutes. Desh checked his mirrors often, but saw no evidence they were being followed, although he was confident that this was now the case. Once a satellite was locked on, their pursuers could follow at a leisurely distance and not have to risk discovery.
Desh called Jim Connelly.
“Everything on track?” asked the colonel upon answering.
“So far. Our ETA is approximately five minutes.”
“Copy that,” said Connelly. “I’ll be ready,” he finished, breaking the connection.
“What’s going on?” asked Lauren from the back. “Who was that?”
“We’re about to arrive at our destination. There’s a traffic signal there. We’ll stop at it, whether it’s red or not, and conduct a bit of a fire drill. My partner, who is a very nice man, by the way, will be in a Chrysler minivan pointing the other way, with his hazards blinking.”
“What do you mean by a fire drill?”
“The instant we stop, you and your kids are going to switch to the minivan. As quickly as possible. I’ll continue on, taking the eyes of the satellites and any followers with me. No one will have any idea you’re in the minivan.”
“And then what?”
“We have a large RV parked at a campground nearby, close to the Missouri River. With plenty of trees to block the view of satellites. You’ll leave Omaha in that.”