Baby Battalion

by Cassie Miles

  A sob exploded through Pierre’s lips. “I owe everything to him. My life. My career. He never asked for anything in return…until now.”

  The knob twisted in her hand. Before she could open it, Pierre flung out his arm. He held the door shut. His voice was a whisper. “It breaks my heart to hurt you, Tess. You’re a kind woman. I tried to tell him.”

  “Listen to me, Pierre. We can’t hide in this stairwell forever.” Please, Nolan, please hear me. “There’s security all over this building. If you hurt me, you won’t get away with this. You’ll go to jail.”

  “If I betray him—” another sob interrupted “—Victor will kill me.”

  Pierre was a powerfully built man. It wouldn’t take much for him to overpower her. Her only defense was words. “You can’t let Victor tell you what to do. He’s a sick man. He needs help. You could help him, save him.”

  “I wanted to tell you. I kept coming by your place so I could tell you. But I was afraid.”

  She heard a loud click as an outer door to the stairwell opened. Footsteps clattered on the concrete stairs. Someone was coming. It had to be Nolan.

  She called out, “Help me. Hurry.”

  It wasn’t him. The man who climbed the stairs was big and heavyset. He held a gun in each hand. He raised his arm and fired.

  The shot echoed like thunder. Pierre gasped and clutched at his chest. Blood stained his white chef’s jacket before he crumbled.

  “Well, Tess, what’s it going to be?” He gestured with the second gun. “This is a stun gun. It won’t kill you, but I promise that it hurts a lot.”

  “You’re Victor Bellows.”

  “Bravo, you’re a genius. Let’s hope you make the right choice. You can come along quietly or I can zap you.”

  She looked down at Pierre. He groaned. He wasn’t dead. She couldn’t help him or herself if she was unconscious. She threw up her hands. “Don’t shoot.”

  “Bart told me you were a smart girl.”

  “Do you have Bart? Is he here?”

  “This way. We’re going downstairs.”

  Her lip trembled as she looked down at Pierre. She hoped Nolan would get here in time to help him. And to help her.

  “Hurry,” Victor snarled. “Don’t tick me off.”

  She did as he ordered, going down the staircase until she stood beside him. “Is Bart all right?”

  “My daddy is a strong old man. He’d be the first to tell you.” He reached toward her and snatched her headset. “Are you talking to Nolan on this?”

  “It’s to communicate with my staff.”

  He tossed the headset into a corner, opened the lower door and grabbed her arm to drag her through to the storage level. They went down a hallway to the right.

  She tried to be smart, to alert Nolan to their whereabouts. “Where are you taking me? This level is all storage.”

  “It’s a rat’s maze. A maze for rodents.” He talked in fast, staccato bursts. “Twists and turns that double back on each other and double back again. I went to a lot of trouble to get you and Bart alone.”

  “You used Pierre. He got you past the security guards and gave you access to the Smithsonian.”

  “Pierre, Pierre, that’s not his real name, but it’s good for a super chef. He earned it, didn’t he? Didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” she responded. Her instincts told her to agree with everything he said. She couldn’t take a chance on upsetting him.

  “The Recluse Gang.” Victor laughed. “We were naive punks, but we were smarter than the teachers and our parents. When we got kicked out of school, Pierre had a serious cocaine habit. His dad kicked him out of the house. Pierre was pathetic. Pathetic Pierre.”

  He whirled around and faced her. His pale blue eyes stared with piercing intensity. “Do you know what my dad did? What the saintly Bart Bellows did when his little boy got expelled from that fancy ass school? He shoved me into the army. It was supposed to make a man of me. That’s crap. He sent me away because he couldn’t stand the sight of me.”

  She wanted to tell him that Bart loved him, but it wouldn’t be safe to contradict him. Instead, she tried to shift his focus. “In high school, what happened to Pierre?”

  “I took care of him. Me, that’s right, I did it. I take care of my friends. Pierre changed his name, never talked to his parents again and they assumed he was dead. That’s what they wanted. They wanted him dead.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I helped him, financed him, got him on his feet. With all I did for him, you’d think the guy could pay me back. Right? Yeah, of course, right. Instead, he grew a conscience. He felt sorry for you. Aw, poor Tess, the sad widow woman. You can see why I had to shoot Pierre’s cowardly ass. No other way.”

  “Why are you so angry at me? I don’t even know you.”

  “Unlucky for you, Mrs. Donovan. You were in the wrong place with the wrong guy. Or should I say, the wrong husband?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He shoved her so hard against the wall that her teeth rattled. “Don’t be cute. Your husband is Joe Donovan. A war hero. A man who came back from certain death. Honorable. Admirable. I hate him.”

  NOLAN FELT LIKE he’d been training all his life for this mission. He had the preparation, the skills and the instincts to rescue Tess. Failure wasn’t an option.

  Activity pertaining to the banquet had gone into high gear, but his focus was elsewhere. Through the communication equipment that connected the CSaI team, he alerted them to Victor’s presence. “He’s got Tess. And says he’s got Bart.”

  He arrived at the stairwell at the same time as Coltrane and Soarez. Weapons drawn, they entered the door to the first floor landing. At the lower level, they found Pierre. He was still breathing.

  “Get him out of here,” Nolan said, “and get him an ambulance. Don’t let anybody else come into the stairwell. Not until I know what’s going on.”

  Through the device he’d given Tess, he listened to Victor’s fierce ramblings. Talking so fast that his thoughts couldn’t keep up with his brain, he sounded like he was on speed. His stated hatred for Joe Donovan didn’t make sense, unless it was somehow connected to Greenaway.

  Nolan disregarded everything but the directions. At the stairwell, he should go right, then to the end of the hall and left. Visualizing the blueprints he’d studied earlier helped keep the setup in mind.

  Coltrane came back into the stairwell and stood beside him, waiting for instructions. After this was over, all the CSaI guys would know his real story. It would be a relief to reclaim his identity.

  He heard Victor repeat the directions. Something was wrong with this picture. Why would he be so specific? Then he heard his name.

  “Nolan Law,” Victor said, “I know you’re listening. You wouldn’t let Tess out of your sight unless you could track her.”

  Tess spoke up, “What are you saying?”

  “Don’t lie to me,” Victor said. “I hate liars, and I know you’ve got a listening bug to stay in touch with him. Are you going to hand it over or should I search you for it? I wouldn’t mind patting you down. You’re a good-looking woman.”

  Nolan muttered, “Give it to him, Tess.”

  He heard her say, “Take it.”

  “Good girl,” Victor said. “Here’s the deal, Nolan. You have my location. I’m here with Tess and Bart. You’ve got five minutes to get here. Come alone or Tess pays the price. You got that, hero? Come alone.”

  The bug went dead.

  Nolan looked to Coltrane. “Victor set up an ambush. He wants me there in five minutes. Supposedly, there’s only one way in. But I remember the blueprints.”

  Quickly, he sketched out other routes to reach the area where he expected to find Victor. He was putting his life and that of Tess and Bart in the hands of the men he worked with. He couldn’t ask for a better team. “Coltrane, you’re in charge. Don’t let me down.”

  “I’ve got your back. Stall him for as long as you
can.”

  Nolan whipped down the last flight of stairs and emerged into the storage basement under the museum. He measured his steps carefully in case Victor had booby trapped the approach. It seemed doubtful that he’d want to stop Nolan. The revenge Victor was planning required his presence.

  Through the communication device in his ear, he heard Coltrane mobilizing the other men. Four guys from CSaI—McKenna, Soarez, Coltrane and McClain—were enough to take on a regiment. Were they enough to handle Victor Bellows?

  He paused before the last turn and pulled himself together. More than anything, he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. He stepped into an open area with a concrete floor. To his right was a solid wall with doors. Floor-to-ceiling rows of shelves covered the rest of the space. Wooden crates and cardboard boxes with labels filled the shelves.

  Directly in front of him was Bart in his wheelchair. Tess was beside him, about three feet away. Her wrists were fastened to the arms of a wooden chair with zip ties.

  Victor held a titanium assault rifle to her head. In the dim light, her face was ashen, but her gaze held steady.

  “About time you got here,” Victor said. “Drop your weapon.”

  Nolan did as he said. Without prompting, he also removed his ankle gun. He was disarmed, except for a spring-loaded pocket knife that wouldn’t do much good unless he got close enough to use it.

  In a casual tone, he asked, “How are you doing, Bart?”

  “I’m well. My son has taken good care of me.”

  “Damn right.” Victor separated himself from Tess and kicked the discarded weapons out of reach. He pointed the rifle at Nolan’s chest and frankly stared. “You don’t look as bad as I thought you would. I heard your face got blown off.”

  “Who’d you hear that from? Greenaway?”

  “Your nemesis,” Victor said. “He scared the pants off you, didn’t he? Not me. I dealt with him, face-to-face. Less than a week ago, I messed with the big, bad Greenaway. How about that, huh? Who’s the tough guy now?”

  His chest thrust out. Victor postured and posed as though he was the star of his own private movie. The longer Nolan could keep him talking, the more time his team would have to get through the locked exits and reach them.

  “You’re tough,” Nolan said. “You survived a hell of a lot in Iraq and Afghanistan. That took guts.”

  “But you got the medal.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the case containing his Purple Heart.

  “You stole that,” Tess said. “You broke into my house and stole that medal.”

  “Calm down, cutie pie. I went to your house because I was looking for you. But you weren’t there. So I had some fun. Finding this piece of meaningless junk was a bonus.”

  “Not meaningless,” she said.

  “Your hubby isn’t so brave. I’m the one who faced Greenaway. I outsmarted him.”

  “Why?” Nolan asked.

  “Because Greenaway was after my father, and I decided that dear old daddy should live. I’m the guy who makes those decisions. Life and death, life and death, I hold fate in my hands. This hand…”

  He lifted his hand above his head, then lowered it and pointed at Nolan. “Who dies? You?” Victor swung around. “Or Tess, your pretty little widow. Either way, death is coming. Tonight, somebody dies.”

  Nolan prayed that Coltrane would get here in time.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “That’s enough,” Bart said quietly. “Victor, that’s enough.”

  Tess pinched her lips together to keep from screaming. They could die, all three of them. Victor said that he’d gone to a lot of trouble to arrange this situation; she knew it wasn’t going to turn out well.

  She made eye contact with Nolan. For once, he wasn’t wearing glasses. The strength in his gray eyes reassured her, as did his courage. No matter the cost to himself, he’d come to protect her and Bart. The man couldn’t help being heroic. That’s who he is. And I love him.

  Victor was wary. He watched Nolan and kept a safe distance as he paced frenetically, circling between her and Bart.

  “Please, Victor,” Bart said.

  “Don’t tell me what to do, old man.”

  “I’m your father.”

  “When it suits you.” Victor launched into a fast-talking diatribe. “You didn’t want much to do with me when I was a kid. I was a pain in the ass, a problem, an inconvenience. After mom died, you couldn’t wait to hand me off to a nanny while you went about your life, having adventures, leaving me behind with the likes of Roxanne.”

  “I loved you,” Bart said. “I wasn’t good at parenting, but I did the best I could.”

  “Yeah? Yeah?” Victor’s voice went higher and higher. “Let’s ask Tess about good parenting.”

  She felt Victor’s hand on her shoulder. He tightened his grip, digging his fingers into her flesh. The pain cut through her fear. She couldn’t just sit here, waiting for him to kill her. She had to do something.

  Victor leaned down and whispered in her ear. “What do you think of a father who ignores his son? Who can’t be bothered to take part in his only child’s life?”

  “Leave her alone,” Nolan said.

  “That cuts a little close to home, doesn’t it?” Victor stood up straight and released his grip. “Good old Nolan, here. He wasn’t even there for the birth of his kid. He missed out. Didn’t see little Joey take his first step or say his first word. He didn’t show up for birthdays.”

  Tess said, “It wasn’t his choice. He was protecting us by staying away.”

  “That’s what he told you. But is it true?” Victor crowed. “Face it, Tess, you and I got shafted. These heroes—these two big, fat heroes—are lousy fathers. I want my revenge. How about you?”

  “No,” she said quietly. “I can forgive.”

  “Wrong answer, sweetheart.” He shoved at the back of her chair and it rocked on the wooden legs. “Mr. Purple Heart ought to explain this to you. When a man has a gun, like me, you damn well better agree with every word he says.”

  “Not when you’re wrong,” she answered.

  He yelled in her face. “Have you got a death wish?”

  “Hey.” Nolan took a step toward them. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. Victor, look at me.”

  “I’m looking, and I’m telling you this. If you take one more step, I’ll shoot out your kneecap. Remember how much that hurts? It was your left leg that got blown to hell. I’ll make the right leg match.”

  “I’m not defending him,” Tess said. “My husband made mistakes. And so did your father. Bart might not have given you enough love and understanding. He might have been too hard on you, expected too much from you.”

  Victor whirled back toward her. “Now you’re getting it. Keep talking.”

  “Bart Bellows is a legend in the CIA. He’s known as a hard man.” She hoped Bart would forgive her for what she was saying. If they survived, she’d apologize. “Maybe he just didn’t have the love to give.”

  From behind Nolan, she heard a clattering noise.

  Victor reacted. “What’s that? Your buddies coming to the rescue?”

  “I came alone,” Nolan said. “Just like you said.”

  “There’s only one way into this area. All the other doors are sealed.” Victor braced the titanium assault rifle on his hip. “If they peek around that corner, they’re dead.”

  “Stop it,” Bart said loudly. “I’m the one you’re mad at, Victor. And I don’t blame you. I was a lousy dad and didn’t do right by you. Kill me and get it over with. Let these other people go.”

  “You still don’t get it,” Victor said. “I don’t want to kill you.”

  Tess believed him. If his goal had been to murder his father, he could have done it when he first kidnapped him. Victor’s idea of revenge was more complicated.

  He paced in a figure eight around Bart’s wheelchair and her chair. “For a long time, I told myself that you weren’t capable of love. Then I heard about CSaI. Your p
lan was to help men returning from war. You started with Joe Donovan. Gave him a new name, got him the best medical care, you even took care of his wife and son.”

  His voice trailed away as he spewed incomprehensible gibberish. He was near the breaking point, losing touch with reality, dangerous.

  She noticed that Nolan had moved closer. His muscles coiled. He was ready to strike, waiting for the right moment. Is she could create a distraction, they might have a chance.

  With stark clarity, Victor said, “You took a broken man, Joe Donovan, and you made him into a hero. Nolan Law became the son you never thought you had.”

  He stood between Tess and Bart, staring at his father. “There’s only one thing I wanted from you. Only one damn thing. I needed for you to be proud of me.”

  “It’s not too late,” Bart said. “We can start over.”

  “That’s right. I’ll take Nolan’s place after I’ve killed him. When he’s dead, I’ll be your son.”

  Tess twisted her torso to the left. With all her strength, she hurled herself to the right. The chair toppled and hit Victor in the back of his legs.

  He staggered and fell against Bart’s wheelchair. The old man grabbed at the barrel of the gun. For a few seconds, they struggled. Victor regained control of his weapon, but he wasn’t quick enough.

  Nolan was on him. He threw a right jab. A direct hit. Victor’s head snapped back, but he kept his hold on his gun. He fired without taking aim.

  On the floor, Tess struggled to get up. She couldn’t clearly see what was happening, but she was aware that the other guys from CSaI had appeared from the shelves behind them.

  They yelled for Victor to stop, but he kept squeezing the trigger. Stray bullets flew in random directions.

  She saw Victor go stiff. He dropped to one knee. Though he’d been shot, he wouldn’t go down. Nolan ripped the gun away from him and came to her. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “What about Victor?”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Soarez has him.”

  Using his pocketknife, Nolan cut the zip ties that fastened her wrists to the arms of the chair. “That thing you did by crashing into him,” he said, “that was a risk.”