The Last Stand of Charlotte Dodd: Fun, Action Chick Lit Spy Saga

by Holly Kerr

  The government will have no choice but to come down hard on the Agency if I do anything other than what was ordered.

  Tenley drops to her knees, murmuring words of comfort to the nearest children crowding the bars.

  “Get them out,” I say hoarsely. “Pippa, get the locks open. Tenley, you and Lance get the kids back to the truck, and onto the plane.”

  “How many?” Tenley reaches through the bars to hold fingers, to touch cheeks. She’s such a mother.

  “As many as we can fit in. Shh.” I put a finger to my lips as kids haul themselves up from the floor, clutching blankets, the odd stuffed animal and the hands of younger kids. “Everyone needs to be quiet.”

  Tenley quickly translates into Spanish and gives me a grin. Apparently, along with my memories, Tenley still has my knowledge of languages.

  As Lance begins to shepard the twenty or so kids out, I take a last look at the cages. “Tenley, get going, and come back for us as soon as you can. We’re checking the next building. Pippa, you’re with me.”

  Pippa gives the first child out of the cage a squeeze on his shoulder as she turns to follow me outside.

  “I didn’t need that,” I mutter, grateful to be breathing the clean night air.

  “Neither did they,” Pippa says firmly as we jog to the next building.

  “They need to be quiet,” I fret, peering between the buildings at the line of children now stumbling up the hill. Tenley has a little one in each arm as she urges them to run after Lance, who slings a straggler into his arms.

  “They need to be fast,” Pippa corrects. “Like us.” She crouches to work the lock and I hover behind her, senses at the ready.

  I hear the click and Pippa stands. “Easy peasy. They really don’t care about anyone getting in.”

  “There may be guards in this one.”

  She flashes her teeth as she stows her lock-picking kit in her bag. “Bring it on.”

  “You find him, you get him out, and get back to the plane,” I instruct. “We don’t have room for anyone else. Just Bryton.”

  “I wasn’t leaving here without those kids,” Pippa says fiercely. “Now let’s get your ex-boyfriend and get out of this place.”

  “He’s not my ex anything,” I hiss.

  Pippa throws a grin over her shoulder as she eases open the door. The grin quickly fades as the hinges squeal loudly in protest. There’s a shout from inside as someone catches sight of the partially opened door.

  “Dammit!” Reaching around Pippa, I shove the door fully open. “Go go go.”

  A cluster of uniformed men meet us at the door, unorganized but outnumbering us. Pippa has one down before I even get in the door, her steel rod flashing.

  Because of the close quarters, I start with a quick jab in the face of the closest one, following up with a hefty left hook that sends him stumbling against the wall.

  The next guard gets an elbow to the throat and a knee to the crotch. As he doubles over, I grab him by the shoulders and throw him against the first one. As Pippa grapples with the last one, I shove my bar between his shoulder blades, stepping back as he writhes from the bolt of electricity.

  “You good?” I ask breathlessly, stepping over the still-shaking man.

  “Yeah.” Pippa wipes an arm across her mouth, smearing blood from a cut lip across her chin. “Let’s go.”

  This building is set up with individual cells, all separated by cheap webbing hung from the ceiling. Three or four people crouch on the floor of each cell.

  They don’t have the deadened eyes of the kids.

  “¡Atención!” someone shouts as a pair of guards march out from beside the two rows of cells.

  Sprinting towards them, I launch myself through the air at the last moment to land with my legs over the first guard’s shoulders. With a neat twist and a turn, I somersault down his back, bringing him down to the floor with me.

  Pippa’s bar makes quick work of the second guard as I slam my guy’s head into the floor. His eyes roll backward as I stand up and look around. There must be at least a hundred adults crowded against the webbing, all staring at me.

  “Bryton Raak?” I shout. “Bryton? Are you in here?”

  The response comes from the back corner of one of the cells. “Charlotte? It’s about time you got here.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Sometimes a good exit is all you can ask for.”

  Sean Stewart

  “I’m getting them out of here.” Pippa throws me the guard’s keys and I hurry to Bryton’s cell.

  I don’t need the pictures in his dossier to recognize him.

  “Charlie.” He smiles widely as I bend to unlock his door. “I’d say I knew you’d come, but I really didn’t.”

  “You got grabbed in Paramaribo before we could talk about maybe hanging out.” The teasing banter comes easily, naturally, like I’ve seen him last week.

  “Pesky henchmen.” The door swings open as I pull away the lock, but Bryton stays inside, staring at me. “Wow. It’s really you.”

  “Really me. Really ready to get out of here.”

  “It’s so good to see you. It was good to see you for the brief moment in Paramaribo, but it’s even better to see you now.”

  My easy banter fades at the expression on his face. “We have to go,” is the only thing I can come up with.

  Bryton’s face darkens. “I can’t leave these people. They are not prisoners and I must—”

  “Yeah, yeah, we know,” Pippa says as she picks the lock of the next cell. “We’ll leave the keys, but you need to get out of here.” She stands up and pulls him out by his arm. “Get him to the plane, Charlie. I’ll finish here.”

  “If anyone has a child here, follow us,” I shout. “The kids are safe.”

  But before I can move, four more guards trot into sight.

  Their shout of warning comes too late as the newly released prisoners swarm them.

  “Come on!” I toss the keys to a nearby woman, hand my bar to another before grabbing Bryton by the hand. Pippa is right behind us, the chaos of the prisoners’ revolt pushing us out the door like a wave.

  “We have to run for it,” I say, heading for the hill behind the building. Six of the prisoners follow us, four women and two men.

  “At least until Tenley comes back for us,” Pippa huffs. “And I hear her now.”

  Along with the shattered muffler on the truck, I also hear the shouts of the guards outside. As we start up the hill, the sharp sounds of gunshots join the shouts.

  “Get down!” Pippa pushes Bryton to the ground and covers his body with her own. The roar of the truck is closer and I look up to see the truck, with Tenley driving, go airborne as she crests the hill.

  “Our ride, as promised.” As I stand up, my delight turns to horror as the guards turn the guns towards the truck. “Tenley!”

  She races down the hill, the truck bumping over the uneven ground as she heads straight for us.

  Shots pepper the old truck but she keeps coming. Half a second later a bullet finds it’s mark and the front tire blows out. The truck hits a rock and flips over.

  The sound of metal crunching, glass breaking makes the scene even more horrific. Even before the truck rolls to a stop halfway down the hill, I’m running, frantic to get to Tenley.

  “Ohmygod, ohmygod,” Pippa huffs, this time having no trouble keeping up with my sprint up the hill. “Is she okay?”

  Before I can answer, I see a flash of movement from the crushed cab of the truck. By the time we get there, Tenley has pulled herself halfway out of the smashed side window.

  “My leg,” she gasps. Pippa carefully drags her clear of the truck. “I can’t—go.”

  Gunfire scatters around us, hitting the truck with a hollow ping, and throwing up clumps of dirt. Pippa drops as I hunch over Tenley. “Thank god they’re bad shots!”

  “I’m not,” Pippa says, her gun already in her hand. “Figure out how we’re getting her back to the jet.” A few well-aimed shot
s send the guards running, giving us a window to get clear of the truck.

  “Just go,” Tenley gasps.

  “Don’t be stupid. I’m not leaving you.” With gritted teeth, I pull her to her feet, one leg dragging uselessly behind. Tenley whimpers a protest as I throw her arm over my shoulder.

  She’s six inches taller and at least thirty pounds heavier than I am, but I’m Charlotte Dodd, and I’m stronger than anyone gives me credit for. With my arm tight around Tenley’s waist and Pippa covering us from behind, we slowly head up the hill. Quickly, one of the released prisoners catches up and takes Tenley’s other side.

  “The prisoners have taken down the guards,” Pippa cheers.

  “Where’s Bryton?” Tenley gasps, her face pale as milk in the darkness.

  The toot of a horn spins me around to see an open Jeep careening up the hill towards us. “There, I hope.”

  Bryton’s smile shines brightly as he skids to a stop beside us. “Get in.”

  He jumps out to help me lift Tenley into the back seat. The other prisoners clamour on, hanging onto anything they can and Pippa takes the driver’s seat. As soon as Tenley is settled as best she can be, Bryton yanks me by the hand to the empty passenger seat.

  As soon as he pulls me onto his lap, Pippa takes off, the gears grinding as she guns the protesting Jeep up the hill.

  Bryton’s arms tighten around my waist and I feel his heaving sigh of relief as we leave the detention centre behind us.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Regimes fall every day. I tend not to weep over that, I’m Russian. Or at least I used to be.”

  Natasha Romanoff, The Avengers

  Perry is not happy to see us.

  I’m sure his displeasure has something to do with the thirty or so extra passengers filing up the stairs to board the plane.

  “We can’t take them,” he keeps saying as the prisoners stare fearfully at him, even as Lance urges them up the stairs. “This will be an international incident.”

  “Perry.” I touch his arm. A crying girl already aboard launches herself down the stairs, caught by a weeping couple. I don’t need to know Spanish to understand that the family has been reunited. “We have to take them.”

  “It’s going to be an incident with my foot up your arse if you don’t keep quiet,” Pippa growls as she pushes past Perry. “Declan, fly the bloody plane.”

  Bryton himself carries Tenley up the stairs into the back bedroom of the plane. I help Pippa get the prisoners settled; every seat is taken with the rest huddled on the floor.

  There’s not a lot of room on the jet, and Perry has already barricaded himself in the cockpit as Declan readies for takeoff. As soon we’re in the air, I hurry to the bedroom to check on Tenley. Bryton hovers beside her. “What can I do?” I ask, kneeling by the side of the bed.

  “I think it’s broken,” she says, her face drawn and pale.

  “Yes, broken.” One of the women follows me into the bedroom, two children clinging to her. She points to her chest. “Doctor.”

  “Can you help her?” Bryton asks. Even covered in filth with tired eyes, he radiates calm authority. I can’t read his expression as I meet his gaze.

  The woman nods, saying something to the kids, who start to cry as she tries to shake them off.

  “Wait, will you guys help me?” I stand, reaching a hand to the kids as their mother slips past them to Tenley on the bed. “Let’s find something to eat.”

  They stare at me with round eyes full of fear.

  “Cookies?” I suggest.

  ~

  The four-hour flight seems to take longer with so many people on board. But after I break open whatever food I can find, including several packages of oatmeal cookies, things quiet down.

  Great, one more thing I have to explain to Ham—where all his cookies went.

  The five other prisoners who followed us also have children on board, and after many bouts of tears and laughter, the plane quiets as most of the kids fall asleep.

  I carefully step over the family groups huddled together, one father with tears coursing down his cheek as he cuddles his sleeping daughter.

  What was it like for these parents, having their children ripped away from them? They couldn’t help them, in some cases had no idea where they were. The terror and fearful uncertainty they must have felt would have been horrible.

  I vow to myself that if I ever have children, I’ll protect them from any atrocity, whatever it takes.

  There are too many children without a parent, and I carefully check on them, smoothing away a tear, assuring a few still awake that they’re safe now. I don’t want to think of anything more than that. It will be a nightmare when we get back to Head Office and the search begins for their parents, but at least, thanks to us, they are safe and out of that hellhole.

  I find myself on the bedroom floor with Bryton beside me. Tenley is sleeping on the bed, Pippa and Lance buried in the main area under a mound of kids.

  I can’t help but remember being on this plane, the day Benjy found me and brought me to Ham. I remember waking up, naked, after dreaming of Ham.

  I’m afraid to fall asleep; afraid of what my subconsciousness might pull up about Bryton.

  “Thank you,” Bryton says after long minutes of quiet. “I didn’t expect you to come for me.”

  “I thought you were asleep.” I stir and glance over. The light is dim but I can see his profile. Even covered with dirt and grime, he’s very good-looking.

  The white of his teeth flashes. “Sleeping is overrated. You told me that once.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t remember.”

  “I heard about that. I’m sorry to hear it. I like to think we made a great many good memories.” Bryton’s voice is deep and like Raylene’s, strangely accented; a combination of the Latin languages of South America with a hint of Dutch. It’s oddly intoxicating, or maybe it’s because the adrenaline of the escape has worn off. I feel like I can sit and listen to his voice for hours.

  I nod slowly as I stare at his profile. “Some have come back. When I talked to Raylene—”

  “Raylene? She got to you,” he says with relief. “I’m very glad. It was a very good day when I found out she survived the assassination.”

  “I’m sorry about your parents,” I whisper, touching his leg with hesitant fingers.

  “I am, too.” He glances down at my hand and suddenly gathers it in both of his, holding it against his chest. “I’m so glad to see you, even under the circumstances.”

  “You already said that.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I can’t,” I begin, uncertain of what to say. I pull my hand out of his grasp and fold them in my lap. My fingers are filthy, with crescents of dirt under my nails. “I married Ham.”

  The quick intake is Bryton’s only reaction. “Yes, I heard that as well,” he says smoothly, a perfect politician’s voice. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you.”

  The silence grows awkward, thankfully interrupted by Pippa bustling into the room. After a quick glance at the sleeping Tenley, she sinks to the floor beside me.

  “So Perry got hold of Head Office,” she begins in a low voice. “Ham isn’t exactly chuffed about the extras, but there’s nothing he can do. He’s got Payton looking for someplace we can put them until we figure out what to do with them.”

  “They can go to Suriname,” Bryton says immediately.

  “Your country isn’t that safe right now,” Pippa points out.

  “It will be when I get back.”

  “But when will that be?” When Bryton meets my gaze, I’m struck by the feeling that I don’t want Bryton to go back, to leave me. I want him to stay, right here with me.

  But no, that’s wrong. Ham…

  Pippa glances from me to Bryton, and then anxiously over her shoulder at Tenley in the bed. “I’ll let you two catch up, but keep an eye on her, would you please? Let me know if she wakes up.”

  “Of course.” As Pippa stan
ds, Bryton grabs her hand. “Thank you so much for your help, Pippa,” he says formally.

  She grins. “No trouble, at all. That’s what they pay me for.”

  Then she looks at me like I’m doing it for something other than the pay.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Take all that away, and what’s left? Me.”

  Buffy, the Vampire Slayer

  Payton is there to meet us when the plane lands. She takes the families to a safe house while we cram into the van with the kids and head back to Head Office.

  The kids stare out the window at the snow with awe, their rising excitement quickly overcoming their fear.

  Everyone tries to be careful of Tenley’s leg but it’s bumped more than once.

  Bryton stays by my side. We don’t say much. Exhaustion has set in, but even with how tired I am, having him beside me makes me feel lighter. Happy.

  I don’t understand any of it. I love Ham more than I love myself, so why should I be happy feeling the pressure of Bryton’s leg against mine?

  Someone within Head Office disarms the security measures because Declan drives in without issue, parking as close to the elevator as he can. Dr. Scotty meets us with a gurney for Tenley, and Declan and Perry go with her. It takes two trips to get everyone else downstairs. Pippa and Lance take the first group of kids down, and Bryton and I wait in the van, the kids shivering in the unaccustomed cold weather.

  It isn’t until we’re in the elevator with five children that he speaks. “Are you okay?” he asks in a low voice.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I confess. My head is spinning from how to deal with Tenley’s injury to the possible ramifications of breaking prisoners out of the detention centre, and I don’t have the bandwidth to deal with much else.

  Like finding a long-lost love. I definitely don’t have the energy for that.

  “You could start with hello,” he offers with a smile.