Marked for Murder

by Donna Raider

  As he lathered his head, he thought about the three infidels in their hotel room. He knew they wouldn’t be found until around noon the next day. By then he would almost be in Miami.

  He shaved his head. His entire head was as smooth as a bowling ball. In the morning, he would pack his cheeks with gauze to give his face a round, full look to inhibit facial identification. He would look like Marshal Lincoln Crockett’s passport photo.

  He set his new boots—the ones to make him three inches taller—beside the briefcase. He went to bed. Sleep always came easy to Watcher. He slept the sleep of the innocent.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  He paid his hotel bill in cash then stepped out into the fresh morning air of San Isidro. As promised, his driver was waiting out front.

  Leaving Peru had been simple. A quick check of his credentials and he was shown to his position on the plane. He prayed Miami would be as easy.

  Once they were airborne, a stewardess touched his arm. “Sir, I feel very uneasy about the passenger in 12B. The one sitting between the woman with the baby and the young blonde woman.”

  “Why?” Watcher frowned. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved in an airline problem.

  “He keeps looking at a stopwatch on his phone as if he is waiting for it to count down to something and our passenger manifest shows him to be from Iran.” The stewardess informed him.

  “I’ll talk to him.” Watcher removed the cuffs from his wrist and cuffed the briefcase to a structural pole of the aircraft. The only way that will come loose is if the plane explodes, he thought.

  He walked to the passenger, a young man who did look extremely nervous. “Sir, please come with me,” he said as he showed the man his Federal Air Marshal’s ID.

  The young man fumbled with his seatbelt, bending over as if to see why it wasn’t releasing. Suddenly he shoved a pistol into the side of the blonde woman. She whipped her head toward Watcher.

  “Anyone makes a move and I’ll kill her,” the man shouted.

  Watcher was stunned. He wasn’t worried about the crazy Iranian. He was worried about the blonde woman, Sara Cross. What is she doing on this airplane? he thought. And how in the hell did the Iranian get a pistol onto the plane?

  ##

  “Leah,” Mika called for her wife in that tone she knew needed immediate attention. Leah appeared at her side in front of the TV. “Some terrorist is hijacking Sara’s flight.”

  In horror, they watched the onboard video camera the pilot had patched through to the Miami tower. The tower had made it available to the news media. “I will simply bring her here.” Leah moved slightly.

  “No, don’t.” Mika stopped her. “What about the others on the plane? The Air Marshal seems to be moving in slowly on the terrorist.”

  Suddenly, the Air Marshal made his move.

  ##

  Sometimes Watcher thought God used him for comic relief. How else could he explain some of the situations in which he found himself?

  Sara smiled at Watcher as if she had just met him in the park. She was totally unconcerned that a crazy terrorist had a gun shoved into her ribs.

  “Easy, buddy.” Watcher eased forward to get a better angle on the man. “Tell me what you want. We can work this out.”

  “In exactly five minutes, all of you will be blown to hell,” the man screamed.

  “Do you really want to do that?” Watcher smiled as he edged into the row behind Sara. “Do you really want to kill this beautiful young lady?”

  “No,” the man snarled. “I really want to fuck her and then kill her.”

  “Say hello to your seventy-two virgins,” Watcher said softly. Moving faster than the eye could see, he snapped the terrorist’s neck. The man slumped forward, dropping the gun.

  “His cellphone,” Sara whispered. “It has something to do with a bomb. I’m certain.”

  Everyone on the plane started to panic.

  Watcher stood up straight. “Please remain calm.” His voice rang throughout the cabin as the flyers silenced. “We have this under control.”

  Sara pulled the dead man’s phone from his inside jacket pocket and looked at it. It wasn’t a bomb detonator. It was a tracking device. They were going to be shot out of the air by a land-to-air missile. She was sure of that.

  She showed the device to the Air Marshal. “It is a target,” she whispered. Watcher nodded.

  He carried the phone to the stewardess. “We need to get this off the aircraft immediately,” he whispered.

  “We have no way to throw something from the plane,” the stewardess cried. “It would cause a drop in cabin pressure if we open anything. The results would be devastating. We’d probably crash.”

  “Give it to me. We don’t have much time.” Sara joined them at the back of the plane. She took the phone and stepped into the lavatory, locking the door. Watcher moved everyone away from the rear of the plane.

  Watcher looked out the aircraft window. A missile was headed straight toward them. He steeled himself for the impact. The missile dropped below them and made a U-turn, heading back toward the ground. It detonated somewhere in Cuba.

  Sara had transported the phone to the exact location from which the missile had been fired. It took out an entire terrorist stronghold in Cuba. Sara tore a large piece of cloth from her jacket and stuffed it into the small hole she had made in the aircraft. The hole didn’t go to the outside of the plane; it simply looked like it did. The cloth stuffed in the hole made it look like she had plugged it. She slowly opened the door and stepped into the cabin. Applause and whistles greeted her. She simply blushed and bowed her head slightly.

  ##

  “That’s my baby girl.” Leah exhaled loudly. “Oh, God, Mika, is there no end to the evil in this world?” Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. She knew it was just a matter of time before one of her children sacrificed themselves for the betterment of mankind or to protect their kind.

  Mika held Leah as sobs racked her slender body. She hated seeing her so distraught. Mika let her grieve for a moment then gently moved her hands down her body, filling her with peace and contentment. Leah slumped against her.

  ##

  Watcher carried the terrorist to the back of the aircraft and covered him with a blanket. He joined Sara Cross, who had moved to another row, preferring not to sit next to the seat where the man had died. He handcuffed the briefcase back to his wrist.

  He took her a Dr. Pepper from the fridge in the back. “You might like something stronger.” He smiled.

  “Oh, no, this is perfect,” she replied. She took a sip. “That’s so good. My throat had gone completely dry.” She laughed softly.

  “You are a hero,” he noted. “You saved everyone on this plane. I just found out the aircraft televised the entire thing on national TV. Part of their Make the World Understand Terrorism campaign. Stupid Americans run around in their Zombie Apocalypse shirts. They should be wearing Muslim Apocalypse shirts. That is a real threat.”

  “You’re funny.” Sara giggled.

  An unexplained warmth spread over him. He had been called many things, but never funny. A broad smile curved his lips.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Ultimately, New York.” Sara frowned. “Oh! My gosh, if my mother saw this, she’ll be frantic.”

  “If she saw this, then she will be very proud of her daughter,” Watcher said softly. He held out his hand. “I’m Air Marshal Lincoln Crockett.”

  “Sara Cross.” She shook his hand firmly.

  “So, Sara Cross, what were you doing in Peru?”

  “I’m a researcher,” Sara answered vaguely.

  “What kind of researcher?” Watcher felt as if he were interrogating her.

  “Genetics,” she said simply.

  “Well, I am a marshal,” he said just as simply.

  She burst out in laughter. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be evasive. It is just that most people aren’t interested in what I do.”

  “Can’t
I decide that for myself?” He grinned.

  They talked the rest of the way to Miami. She was funny and very interesting. She was a little evasive about some things, but he quickly learned to steer away from those subjects. He could feel the innate goodness in her, just as he felt it in her parents.

  ##

  As the plane touched down at Miami International Airport, passengers began to stir. “Please remain seated until we come to a complete stop,” the captain reminded passengers.

  “You never told me where you’re headed.” She tilted her head to the side and looked at him.

  “San Francisco,” he lied, wishing—with all his heart—he could board the plane to New York with her.

  As the pilot gave the passengers the go-ahead to leave the aircraft, she stood. “I really want to get out of here.” She smiled. “I don’t want to get caught up by the news media. I need to get home to my parents.” As she stood, she remembered to cut a hole to the outside of the plane, large enough for the cell phone.

  Grabbing his Indiana Jones hat, Watcher stepped in front of her. “Follow me. Keep your head down,” he instructed. He knew the news people would be looking for a bald man.

  As they approached customs, he removed his hat.

  “Hey, you’re the guy that took out that bastard terrorist,” the agent quipped as he stamped Watcher’s passport. “You’re a real badass.”

  Watcher slid Sara’s passport in front of the agent. He stamped it without ever looking at her. “Man, can I have your autograph?”

  “Sure.” Watcher scribbled “Marshal Lincoln Crockett” on the sheet of paper on the stand then pulled Sara after him.

  “Do you have checked luggage?” he asked as they headed for the luggage carousel.

  “No,” Sara answered. “Do you?”

  “No, but I have a long layover here.” He shrugged.

  “As do I.” She laughed.

  “Why don’t we get you to the right terminal for your next flight and then maybe we can find a place to have dinner?” He caught her hand as if to lead her, but he just wanted to touch her.

  “I would like that,” She nodded.

  Over dinner, Sara talked about her parents and her siblings. How proud she was of them.

  For the first time in his life, Watcher was sorry he had no family stories with which to regale her. He had nothing he could share with someone he loved. Love? No! Love was a luxury he couldn’t afford. He once had brothers and sisters. His father laughingly called them his good omens. He had a real name, but he never said it aloud. It was all he had that was truly his. He kept it to himself. He never shared it.

  He gleefully told her about his dog, how fond he was of him.

  The call for her flight came over the loudspeaker. “I must go, Marshal.” She smiled.

  He walked her as far as he could. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Marshal Lincoln Crockett. Thank you for saving my life.” Sara stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek, then she was gone.

  “Perhaps we’ll meet again,” he called after her.

  She turned at the gate and nodded.

  ##

  Detective Carlie Carlyle watched the news report of four dead Catholic priests in Santa Fe and three dead in Lima, Peru. They had died within four days of each other. Like Archbishop Pelosi, all had been members of the Curia. She wondered if someone was cleaning house at the Vatican.

  She had spoken with the detective in charge of the Santa Fe investigation. As far as he was concerned, it was an open-and-closed case. “Where did Arnold obtain the poison?” Carlie asked.

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.” The detective snorted. “Look lady, maybe you New Yorkers get off on these conspiracy theories, but here, if we catch a killer with a smoking gun in his hand and the bullets match the slugs in the deceased’s body, we have the perp. It’s that simple.”

  “Thank you, Detective,” Carlie had said sarcastically. “You’ve been most helpful.”

  She had finally gotten a call through to Lima, but had trouble finding out who oversaw the case. After calling daily for a week, a Sergeant Trujillo had returned her call.

  “Drug overdose,” Trujillo said. “Plain and simple.”

  “Did you do an autopsy or a drug panel?” she asked.

  “No, miss, we know it was cocaine,” he growled. “No need to waste our money.”

  “Will you ship one of the bodies to me?” Carlie pushed.

  “They’re already in Rome,” he informed her. “The archbishop shipped out their bodies the next day. You know, so they could have a proper burial and all. We have closed the case and washed our hands of the messy affair.”

  Messy was a kind way to put it, Carlie thought. She knew that Leah and Mika had been in Santa Fe on Wednesday before the four priests were poisoned on Friday. She had checked the airline manifest. The couple had flown round trip in one day. She even interviewed the return airline crew, something she now regretted. One of the flight attendants had shown her the magazine Leah had autographed for her. She cursed to herself as she thought of Mika and Leah making love in the airplane. She couldn’t get the image out of her mind. Damn, do they ever stop?

  Monkshood? She knew it was sold at some of the herbal alchemy shops in New York. She had visited them all, showing them a picture of Mika Cross without her priest attire. No one had ever seen her. She knew Leah would scratch out her eyes if she ever found out about that little bit of investigating. Hell, everything seemed to tie to the Catholic Church and Mika Cross.

  The terrorist incident with Sara had made her heart stop. She knew there would be no consoling Leah if anything happened to one of her children. Then her friend at Homeland Security had called asking what she knew about Sara Cross. Carlie had told her Sara was Leah Redman’s daughter and her other mother was Priest Mika Cross. “Why?” Carlie asked.

  “Just trying to tie up a few loose ends,” her friend, Joyce Anderton, had said. “I can’t reach her. Is there any chance you can set up an interview with Sara for me?”

  “I’ll try. They are an extremely private family,” Carlie answered. “I’ll give you a call.”

  ##

  As Carlie watched the expressive actress work, she marveled at the incredible range of emotion the woman could reflect in her face. She could go from smiling seductively to concern to absolute terror within seconds, with no direction from Stiles. No doubt about it, Leah Redman was a director’s dream.

  Carlie ran conversations through her mind, trying to decide how to approach Leah. As she watched, Leah’s character went into full-blown fury. Those dark eyes turned black and her perfectly shaped eyebrows pulled together in a fierce scowl. Her white teeth shone as her gorgeous lips twisted into a sneer that was terrifying. …and yet, so hot, Carlie thought.

  Carlie had been the recipient of that look once. Not a scenario she wanted to repeat. Maybe it would be easier to approach Mika. The good-natured priest seemed to temper her wife’s quick mood changes. Mika was more inclined to think things through, whereas Leah reacted instantly. She was famous for her quick temper when she felt something wasn’t right. Yeah, definitely Mika, Carlie thought.

  “Cut. Leah, that was breathtaking,” Stiles praised his favorite actress. “Take fifteen. We’ll wrap up your scenes today.”

  As Carlie resolved her conundrum, the priest strolled onto the set. Carlie’s eyes were on Leah. The actress stiffened, then lifted her chin as if Mika’s scent had wafted to her. A brilliant smile slowly crossed her lovely face. She turned around to look in Mika’s direction. Carlie saw a slight shiver go through Leah’s body. God, I love Leah Redman, the detective thought. Just one night with her would… Her thoughts stopped as she watched the woman tilt back her head for the kiss she knew the priest would want.

  Leah caught her wife’s hand and dragged her to her dressing room, followed by Haley. “I’m so glad you’re here. Sit with me while Haley touches up my makeup,” Leah instructed Mika.

  Mika pulled a stool around to sit in front of her so Leah
could see her as they talked. “Sounds like you’re almost through,” she noted hopefully.

  “Shouldn’t be more than an hour, darling,” Leah answered. “We started at six this morning.”

  “I’m well aware of that.” Mika looked like a pouting child who had been denied her wishes.

  Leah smiled knowingly at her. “I’ll make it up to you, darling,” she flirted.

  “Okay, be still,” Haley commanded. “I can’t put lipstick on those luscious lips if you are moving them all over the place.”

  “The children are getting out of school at noon today. We should be home about the same time they are,” Mika continued talking. “They’re driving me crazy to go to the aquarium. There’s a new baby seal they’re dying to see.” Mika smiled at the look of pure joy on her wife’s face.

  “I would love to do that.” Leah beamed. Her favorite thing in the entire world—right after time with her wife—was time with her family.

  “You know they’re going to want to eat hot dogs or something equally as unhealthy somewhere on the Boardwalk.” Mika laughed. “And there’s Coney Island.”

  “Of course, darling. That’s half the fun of going to those places.” She chuckled softly as she recalled how her youngest ones had squealed at the sight of sharks in the aquarium.

  “Five minutes, Miss Redman,” a stagehand said, tapping on her open door.

  “I’m so excited, Mika.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at her wife. “Thank you for suggesting the outing.”

  Their eyes held each other’s as if dreading to let the other go. “I’ll watch you from my usual perch.” Mika nodded.

  ##

  “Hey, Mika.” Carlie dragged a chair beside the priest. “How is everything going?”

  “Good,” the priest replied. “We are taking the entire family to the aquarium as soon as Leah is through. Why don’t you and Jennifer join us? You can meet us there after we collect the children. We should be there by two.”