Under Illusion: Day 8

Word Count: 48,014

Summary of Events:

Dallis woke up a little early to get information on where she was to guide Trace, whom she also had Ratko call to tell her that some of her nonexistent family had died in the accident. She nonetheless breakfasted with Trace before telling him she'd direct him to her relative's house. Trace didn't get suspicious until they'd gone a ways from Charleston, where Dallis confessed that she had no family in Charleston, but that she was doing the bidding of people who coveted his valuable cargo. Trace was unsurprisingly angry at Dallis for having betrayed him — as well as angry at himself for having fallen for her lies. Dallis guided Trace to Birmingham, Alabama in accordance with her instructions, where they went to a motel and ordered for supper to be delivered there…

Excerpt of the Day:

The sound of Trace’s ringtone startled Dallis and she snapped her head around to look at Trace, who picked up his cellphone and answered it.

“Hello?” he answered.

Dallis rested her hand on the grip of her gun as Trace listened for a long moment.

“Yes,” Trace replied. “I am in Alabama.”

Immediately Dallis got up and pointed the gun at Trace. He glared at her.

“Don’t tell them you’re a hostage,” Dallis mouthed.

“There was an accident,” Trace said.

He glared at Dallis again as the person on the other end — whom Dallis suspected was a suspicious supervisor of some sort — spoke.

“No, it wasn’t,” Trace replied. “But it forced me to take an alternate route, and I got lost.”

Dallis had to admit that she would be surprised if his employer bought that tale.

“I’ll be back on the right route in the morning,” Trace said. “I promise. I’ve been studying my maps carefully to make sure I won’t get lost again tomorrow, or any other day.”

Severity lined Trace’s face as he listened to his employer.

“I understand,” he said. “Goodbye.”

Trace ended the call and looked down at the gun Dallis still had pointed at his side, then up at her face.

“What’s the matter now?” Trace asked. “Do you think I gave him some secret distress code to get me out of here?”

“No,” Dallis replied, bending her arm to bring the gun back closer to herself. “Is he your employer?”

“He’s my supervisor,” Trace replied. “I’m sure you’re more likely to know who the CEO of the company is than I am, seeing you and your people know what I’m carrying better than I do.”

Dallis personally didn’t know much more than what she’d said, but considering he’d added her associates into the statement, she didn’t comment, as she was sure Bentley knew exactly what Trace was hauling.

“What was he calling about?” Dallis asked.

“You didn’t disable my GPS tracker,” Trace said. “I’m surprised.”

She kicked herself inwardly for having forgotten, yet, at the same time, she couldn’t say she knew where she might find the GPS signal-emitter on the truck, much less how to successfully disable it. Ratko and Javor hadn’t taught her things like that yet.

“My supervisor, thus, was calling to confirm the signal I’m giving is, in fact, where I am,” Trace replied. “And even though it was tough going down, he actually swallowed my story that I detoured for an accident and got lost all the way to Birmingham, Alabama.”

“Good,” Dallis said.

“He did, however, say that if I’m not back on the correct route by tomorrow afternoon, the company will start monitoring me more closely,” Trace added.

“What does that mean?” Dallis asked.

“This is my first job, how should I know?” Trace countered profanely.

“He didn’t say?” Dallis asked.

“No,” Trace replied. “It’d be easier to separate the world’s largest and most powerful magnets from one another than to get information out of him. For me, anyways. You and your associates, however, knowing more about the company than I do, could probably easily find out that information by your own means instead of asking me.”