Extreme Exposure

by Mae Argilan

  "Ninety miles per hour, Chief. Aye, aye."

  Geoff was on fire when he stumbled out of the wreckage. Glenn’s coat was on fire, and her coat was still on him. Geoff dropped it as he cleared the porch. She was behind him, with the inferno behind her. She felt its breath on her hindquarters as the cottage disintegrated.

  "I couldn’t find him," Geoff said, choking. "I tried. You know."

  He kept blinking at what remained of Misty Mount Cabin Number One. Then, he turned away. Glenn took his hand.

  "You’re burned."

  "I was feeling around on one of the bunks when a beam fell. I was lucky to get away without being pinned underneath. I don’t think he’s in there. I think I would have found him if he was."

  "We’ve got to do something. Which way out of here?"

  Glenn inspected the red and black skid mark that crossed the back of his hand from knuckles to wrist. The skin was beginning to blister. Geoff pointed toward the other end of the clearing.

  "There’s a stream down there. We can follow it to the road on the other side."

  Glenn retrieved the remains of her coat, and wrapped them around her shoulders. Rain was falling in unrelenting sheets. The umbrella of branches and twigs sheltered them slightly. They found a cool mountain stream, the kind of crystal water you see in beer commercials. Geoff plunged his hand in, and had his breath stolen away. He yanked his hand out, and cradled it in his arm.

  "Woo!"

  Glenn looked around. The air was thick with wood smoke, which used to be a pleasant fragrance to her. She took a deep breath, and let it escape as steam through her teeth.

  They hiked downhill, down to where rivers meet the ocean, down to where everyone goes to meet his destiny. Down to the sea in ships. Down to the sound of sirens. Geoff’s head came up, and he stared hard toward the horizon. Fire engines. Glenn’s head swirled with the sound of it. Rescue. Men in shiny rubber boots and fire hats. Heroes with hoses and hatchets. Her Dalmatian heart stirred, and she sank to her knees. Geoff stood beside her, rumpling her hair. Safe. Safe at last.

  They staggered on toward a strip of highway where it met the rivulet at a trench. A white and yellow vehicle screamed past with red lights pulsating like popping corn. It was followed by a fire truck. By the time they reached the roadside, all the action was up at the cabin.

  "You want to hike back up?" she asked.

  "We could wait here and flag them down on the way back."

  "We should tell them about Dave. Maybe it’s not too late."

  Geoff set his jaw, and nodded. They went less than fifty yards when they heard a motor behind them. Geoff stopped, and turned. Glenn kept plodding uphill.

  "It’s a van. I don’t believe it." The cloud lifted from Geoff’s face. "Hey!" He waved his hands over his head. "Our luck is changing. It’s Terry."

  "Terry? Is there anyone in the tri-state area youdon’t know?"

  A white van stopped in the middle of the road. Glenn could see the side panel. There was a picture of a peacock, and blue block letters that read WHAG 25 ALIVE. A news truck. If there was anything more wonderful than a fire engine it was the sight of a news van. It made Glenn’s heart ache.

  A man leaped from the driver’s side. He was wearing an asbestos coat with strips of yellow reflecting tape on the cuffs. His brown hair was swept over his forehead in a bang which he ran his hand through to get a good look at Geoff. He came swinging toward them with the wiry gait of a man in his early twenties.

  "Holy smoke, dude!"

  "Smoke is right," Geoff said. "But, there ain’t nothing holy about it."

  The man whistled. "What happened to you? Let’s get you to the rescue squad."

  "Glenn, this is Terry Reeder. An old friend," Geoff said. "And, a sight for sore eyes."

  Glenn said, "Hello, Terry."

  "Hi. Come on, and help me get Geoffrey inside."

  "I can walk," Geoff said. "Think it would be all right if we got in back?"

  "Just mind your feet so you don’t wreck my stuff."

  Geoff started to laugh. He doubled over, and laughed so hard they had to help him inside.

  Terry asked Glenn, "What’s so funny? Did I miss something?"

  "I think he’s hysterical."

  "Hysterical," Geoff said. "It is hysterical. Look at you. Two of a kind." He lay down on the floor of the panel truck, held his stomach, and shook with laughter.

  Glenn shrugged. "I’ll sit back here with him."

  Terry drove, glancing over his shoulder at them. Geoff sat up, wiping away tears with his sleeve. Terry again asked what happened.

  "You won’t believe it, Ter, but the CIA just tried to bump us off."

  Terry slammed his foot on the brake. The rear of the van fishtailed. Terry turned in his seat, and stared at him.

  "Why?"

  Geoff pointed at Glenn. "She knows something. We don’t know what she knows, but they don’t want anybody else knowing."

  Terry turned to Glenn. "There’s a story here."

  Geoff said, "You have no idea."

  Terry looked at Geoff. "How’re you feeling?"

  "Nothing fatal."

  Terry looked at Glenn. "Feel like talking? How about telling me your story?"

  "Now?" she asked.

  "Yes. Hell, yes! We need a reporter. No, just a talking head. I point the camera at you, and you tell me what happened. First, we need a backdrop. The fire. Of course. It’s perfect." Terry put the van back in gear. "I’ll get the fire footage. I’m picturing I’ll do a rack shot. You stand in front of the fire. I fade out on the fire as I bring you into focus. This isn’t too technical for you, is it?"

  Geoff started laughing again. "Birds of a feather."

  "No," Glenn said, grinning. "You’re not being too technical."

  "What’s so funny? Tell me the joke."

  "The joke is," said Geoff, "you’re talking to yourself."

  Glenn said, "My name is Glenn Prentiss. I’m a photojournalist. I guess that’s what started all this."

  "Yeah," said Geoff. "Do me a favor. Do you have someplace you can stash her for a while?"

  "I knew it," Terry said. "I knew there was a story here."

  "And," said Glenn, "it’s an exclusive."

  Terry nodded. "Yeah, I can stash you. Hell, yes, you better believe I can stash you." He stepped on the brakes again, and did a U-turn.

  "What about your fire?" Glenn asked.

  "This is much hotter. This story is going to generate some serious heat. I can fell it."

  Glenn nodded. She could feel it, too. She was a journalist, somebody who by her very nature was a hunter. The blood lust was rising in her. Adrenaline was pumping, and her senses were singing. Every nerve in her body was as taut as a string on a Stradivarius, and it came to her with uncanny clarity just exactly what had to be done.

  "Hey, Terry?" she said. "Do you have a CB radio in this thing?"

  Sadie Cozzoli was in the driver’s seat. Her partner slouched on the passenger side, rubbing the back of his neck. Sadie scowled at him, sickened by his lack of professionalism. What she wouldn’t give to have Pip here. That was the original plan: work the case, bag the bad guys, and celebrate while the liquor of victory was coursing through her veins. This gorilla, however, this lower primate, all he was capable of was bullying and boasting with no finesse whatsoever. He even made love like an ape.

  She looked at his hairy knuckles, and remembered how disgusting it was to be pawed by him. Glenn Prentiss had to die, there was no getting around it, but she didn’t have to be subjected to that. It was so like Sullivan to treat sex as an act of vengeance. He was greed without passion, need without desire, hunger with no palate. Now Pip, bless his heart, was a connoisseur. Being with him had been more wonderful than she’d imagined. Sadie remembered the succulence of his mouth, the completeness when he entangled himself between her thighs. She’d lost herself in him. He was the first man who understood her. Her equal. A man who couldn’t be bought, who refused to tradeher body for hissoul
.

  I’ll get you back. When this is all over, we’ll be together again. Forgive me for hurting you, and be mine again.

  She concentrated on the curve in the road ahead. "That was really stupid, Sullivan. I don’t know why I even listened to you. Putting Anderson in the cabin. This is much better. We’ll put him behind the wheel, and make it look as ifhe was the rogue agent. We’ll use his sidearm, and make it look like suicide."

  "Like we did with Bleetz," Sullivan said.

  "Hopefully, I’ll do a better job than you and Ginsberg. Honestly! A bathtub accident? Couldn’t you come up with anything better than that?"

  "It worked, didn’t it?"

  "It worked at raising interest at headquarters, which was the last thing I needed. Then, you botched it again out in front of Singleton’s. I thought you guys were professionals."

  "That’s why you hired us. Kept your little hands clean, didn’t we?"

  "No. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here now, would we?"

  Sadie reinforced her grip on the steering wheel.

  "Hey, Cozzoli? You sure there aren’t any other witnesses?"

  "Hey, genius, look in your rear view mirror. See that forest fire? All your troubles just went up in smoke."

  "What about Pippin? He’s not stupid."

  "No,he’s not stupid. But, heis loyal. That’s not something a merc like you would know about, but trust me. He’ll believe what I tell him."

  "Why would he?"

  "Don’t be so dense. He’ll believe me because hewants to. All I’ve got to do is sell him a story that is believable."

  "You better watch the way you talk to me, Miss Priss."

  "Shut up! I’m trying to think."

  "Sorry. Didn’t know thinkin’ was so hard for you," Sullivan said.

  "No, I don’t suppose you know much aboutthinkin’ , do you?"

  "If it wasn’t for all your thinking, Ginsberg would be alive now, and not on some slab in a federal morgue."

  "Don’t youdare blame me for that. It was a brilliant plan: tap into their communications so we’d know where the pickup was, show up at the Correspondents Arch, and neutralize everyone at once. Nice and simple. Ginsberg is dead, because Ginsberg screwed up. If I’d been on that bike I’d have gotten the job done just like that." She snapped her fingers.

  "Well, I wish it had been you," Sullivan said.

  "Well, well, I certainly can’t count on you. Why do I have to be the one to do everything?"

  "You? I’m the one who got the getaway car."

  "About that, it isn’t traceable, is it?"

  "No. If there’s anything I know about, it’s stealing cars," he said.

  "You know about carjacking housewives, and old ladies. You don’t know anything about outsmarting a team of determined investigators."

  "No, that’s your job."

  "Finally, something we agree on. Listen, this is very important. When I shoot Anderson, he has to bleed. You understand that, don’t you?"

  "No."

  She bit her tongue, and counted to five. "If the wound isn’t messy, if the blood isalready clotted , that means he was deadbefore the gun was fired. That’s the first thing forensics looks for with a gunshot wound. Why am I bothering to explain this to you? What I need to know is when you put him in the back of the limo, he was still breathing, wasn’t he? Please tell me he’s still alive."

  "Whoa, hold on. The lane is just up here, around the corner."

  "You didn’t kill him, did you?"

  "No, he’s sleeping like a baby back there. Unless you OD-ed him with your syringe."

  "Don’t worry about me, Slick. If there’s anything I know about it’s how to ride the White Horse without being thrown."

  Sullivan stared at her a moment. "Yeah, I guess you would."

  "Right now he’s a lot happier than either of us."

  She guided the car left onto a narrow lane that started out paved before becoming gravel, then dirt, and ending in a thicket of scrub pine and dogwood. Sullivan pointed out the windshield.

  "You can’t tell from this angle, but right past those trees is a fire pond."

  "So?" Sadie took the limo out of gear, and turned off the ignition.

  "The car is on the other side of the pond. That way, no tire tracks from two vehicles. You only see where this one pulled in, and stopped."

  "Did you think of that yourself?"

  "Of course. I also got a canoe tied up on this side."

  "All that’s left is to get Agent Dave up here, and conclude our business."

  Sadie dragged herself out of the car. She was very tired. Maybe it was too little sleep, or too much action, or maybe she was feeling the soul soreness that accompanied the termination of a fellow agent. There’s got to be a better way to make a living , she thought to herself, and stretched her back. The sun was beginning its descent behind the trees, and she was anxious to be finished with this nastiness.

  Wait for me, Pip my sweet, I’ll be home soon. She pictured his face, and wondered what he’d say when he saw her again. He was gonna be pissed, no doubt about that. But, only at first. It gave her an erotic thrill as she fantasized coaxing the forgiveness out of him. He wouldn’t stay angry for long. Her lips curled into a smile as she plotted her seduction, focusing on that instead of the task ahead. She looked at Sullivan, and her spirits sank.

  "Let’s go over it one more time. You put him in the front seat. Put his pistol in his hand, and shoot me in the leg. Theleg ," she said. "Here, on the outer thigh. No, better yet, wing me. That’ll make a better story. I’ll say he drew, but I grabbed his arm in time to deflect the angle away from my heart. He fired, and I had no choice but to shoot back, inflicting a mortal wound to the temple."

  "Can we justdo this?"

  "Don’t mess this up, Sullivan. It’s my life we’re talking about."

  "What do you think, I’m going to miss, and shoot you dead?"

  "You better not. If I die, so does your alibi. If this works, it ends here. I not only keep my job, but I get another commendation. You pick up an envelope full of dead presidents, and once again the citizens of this country sleep safe in the cradle of freedom none the worse for the wear."

  Sullivan scowled, and opened his mouth. The car radio bristled.

  "Breaker, breaker. Mobile Two. Mobile Two? Come in Cozzoli. Agent Cozzoli, if you’ve got your ears on you’d better come back."

  Sadie felt fear wrap around her like a dry cleaning bag. For a moment she was unable to breathe.

  "Mobile Two? I’m not kidding, Cozzoli. I just came back from the dead, and I’m in no mood for your games. Answer me, or I’m going to your boss. He’d be real interested in our little bonfire."

  Sadie picked up the phone. "Breaker. Mobile Two here."

  "Well, hello. Nice to hear from you. I knew you were out there."

  Sadie recognized the voice. She’d heard it over the phone lines, on wire taps, in person.

  "Identify yourself. Over."

  "Honey, before I’m through with you, you’re gonna think I’m the devil himself. This is Prentiss, Glenn Prentiss."

  Sadie put her lips close to the receiver. "Where are you, you little cockroach? Tell me where you are."

  "Temper, temper."

  "I’ll come, and get you," Sadie said. "You must be very frightened. Give me your coordinates, and I’ll bring you in from the cold."

  "Ha. When you say you’re going to warm somebody up, you’re not fooling. I’ve got no desire to be vindictive. I just want to go on about my life, same as you. It just occurred to me that we could maybe help each other to do that."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Listen carefully. I’ve got a proposition for you."

  "How do I know I can trust you?"

  "You don’t," Glenn said. "Oh, yeah, Over."

  24

  Geoff was the first to say it. "This whole idea is insane."

  "I don’t see you coming up with anything," Glenn said.

  "You’re crazy."
r />   Terry said, "Crazy like a fox, dude."

  Geoff slumped down in the back of the van behind the driver’s seat. "Sure,you love the idea, Terry. You’re as nutty as she is."

  Glenn said, "Look, Sadie has somethingI want, and I have somethingshe wants."

  "And, you think she’ll trade Dave for the videotape?" Geoff asked.

  "She said she would," Glenn said.

  "And, you believe her? It’s not as if she’d fudge the truth." Geoff covered his face with his hands. "She swears that Dave is alive, and you believe her."

  Glenn turned in her seat, and looked at him. "You have to get over this fixation with the truth."

  "Try to focus," Geoff said. "You don’thave any tapes."

  "Terry will supply some bogus tapes, and I’ll tell her I’m keeping the CD as insurance. By the time she figures it out, we’ll have Dave back."

  "Dead or alive?"

  "Well, we don’t know that yet, do we? My hunch is he’s alive, or she wouldn’t have made the deal."

  Geoff clenched both fists. "She made the deal to lure us into the open so she could kill us. Again. Am I the only one here who’s figured that out? She’s lying!"

  "It doesn’t matter if she’s lying. That’s the ingenious part of this plan. Terry’s going to film the exchange for the 11:00 news."

  Geoff threw up his hands, and turned away. Terry fished some tapes from a Campbell’s tomato soup carton.

  "You know what I loved?" Terry said. "That you insisted on getting your camera back. When you threw that in as a deal-breaker, I could tell you had her attention. You could hear the wheels turning, wondering if there was something she missed, why it was so important to you."

  Geoff sniffed. "She should have asked me. I could have told her."

  "Stop pouting." Glenn shuffled to the back of the van. "Terry? Go ahead to the Battlefield. We need some time alone."

  "We’ll go in the front way," Terry said. "I’ll drop you guys by the Bridge. Then, I’ll hike through the woods to the other side. This is gonna be so sweet."

  For some reason, Glenn was no longer afraid of Cozzoli, or her thug. They merely presented a threat to life and limb. Geoff, however, was a risk to her heart and soul. She knelt in front of him.

  "I won’t do this if you tell me not to."