G-Men: The Series

by ANDREA SMITH

  Within minutes, all the teams were in place to execute the warrants. Kyzer had been honest about the factory. It was deserted. There wasn’t a vehicle or a soul around.

  It was fairly large on what seemed to be more than a hundred acres. There were no homes, farms or businesses around.

  Hardesty and I let ourselves in, looking around to make sure it was just as deserted as it appeared. It was cold and damp inside. There was no shortage of rodent droppings, either. We located the factory floor, and to the west end of it, there were metal steps leading up to the mezzanine he described.

  We used flashlights to guide us. Some portions of the building seemed to have electricity, others did not. I climbed the metal steps and went through a swinging door down a long, tiled hallway.

  It looked as if, at one time when the factory had been operational, the mezzanine might’ve been where the lunch room, supply room and rest rooms were located. At the end of the hallway, there was a door that was shut. It had placard over the door that read “Infirmary.”

  I inserted the key into the lock, it turned. I opened the door to the room, not the least bit prepared for what I was about to find when I switched on the light.

  Slate’s voice came over the walkie-talkie, just as I flipped the light switch.

  “We’ve got Sue Ellen Stanfield, a.k.a. Susan Reynard in custody, boys. Taz, what’s goin’ on at your end?”

  I couldn’t speak. I felt something wet running down my cheeks. It was foreign to me, and for the first time ever, I froze. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. My heart had died inside of me.

  “Taz? Did you copy that?”

  I heard a voice next to me on the walkie-talkie.

  “This is Agent Hardesty. We’re going to need an ambulance here, stat. Do you copy?”

  “Copy that, Agent Hardesty.”

  chapter 45

  There had been so much pain, so much agony, and so much fear. My throat had burned with its own fire, my muscles ached, and my bones ached, my skin felt as if it had been ripped from me in several places.

  I remembered why I was in pain, and who had inflicted the pain. I remembered thinking that death might just be a blessing, if it truly meant the pain would be gone.

  I had lain in this bed hour after hour, and thought about what death might mean for me.

  It would mean never seeing my mother again. I couldn’t imagine that, but mostly I worried about how my death would make her feel. She’d been angry and disappointed in me because of my relationship with Taz. If I died, the guilt of that would haunt her. I didn’t wish her that.

  I thought about not seeing my baby brother again, of missing all of his “firsts” as he grew into a toddler, then adolescent. He wouldn’t remember me as he grew older. He wouldn’t remember that I’d changed his diaper, fed him, played with him, rocked him and loved him. I didn’t want him to forget me.

  I thought about Slate, and how, even though he wasn’t a father-figure exactly, he was still someone that I cared about and respected. I thought about all that he’d gone through with my mother, and what he would be faced with if I died, dealing with her sadness and anguish. I didn’t wish that for him.

  I thought about Taz and how important he’d become to me. I understood now why he’d gotten so upset when I continued to communicate in any fashion with Kyzer. He’d known somehow the monster Kyzer was.

  I knew that he would blame himself, then me, then himself again. I knew if I died, he would be twisted up inside, that he would wonder about what might have been, that he would have a broken heart.

  As much as I thought about the important people in my life, I knew that eventually, all of them would be okay with my passing…except Taz.

  Maybe it’s because when one hovers between life and death, things suddenly become crystal clear in their minds, and the realization hits about what’s truly important to the ones you love, the ones you leave behind.

  I wasn’t ready to part with Taz in this life. There were still things we hadn’t done, arguments we hadn’t had, laughter we hadn’t shared, tears we hadn’t cried, and the realization for both of us that we were meant to be together.

  I realized if I died, then I would have left this earth not sharing with him one, vital piece of information, and that was that I loved him, and that my heart belonged to him.

  Leaving this planet without letting Taz know that I loved him? I didn’t wish that for me.

  I slept and felt pain. I felt pain and slept. I had dreams that made no sense, heard voices that I didn’t recognize, and prayed to a God that didn’t seem to be listening to me at the moment.

  And then, one day the pain started to ebb, the sleep started to feel restful, and the voices were familiar to me. My skin didn’t burn, my bones and muscles no longer ached, the chills no longer racked my body and I did this very wonderful thing: I sneezed.

  I felt the sneeze and I heard the sneeze. I also heard a familiar voice say, “Bless you.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, my voice sounding almost foreign to me.

  Someone was at my side immediately, taking my hand into his strong, warm one. I knew that hand. I knew that presence.

  “Taz?” I opened an eye, squinting into the sunlight coming in from a window somewhere.

  I looked up and there he was, the sunlight framing his beautiful face as if he were an angel. And I saw his smile, and he truly was my angel, and I thanked the God I presumed had been ignoring me.

  “I’m alive?”

  “Yes, baby girl, you’re alive and awake.”

  I saw the IV tubes stuck in various places in my arms. There appeared to be a feeding tube in my stomach, as near as I could tell. It was obvious I was in the hospital, but how long had I been here?

  “Do you remember what happened?”

  “Of course I do. That son-of-a-bitch Kyzer tortured me beyond anything you could imagine.”

  I saw his smile fade into a grim line. Apparently, Taz had been clued in as to the extent of the torture.

  My voice was hoarse and raspy. Taz grabbed a Styrofoam cup from the bedside table and poured water from a pitcher into it. He placed a bendy straw in it, and held it to my lips.

  I drank and drank and it tasted so good, so soothing to my throat. I stopped sipping, feeling quenched. He was staring at me so intently, so seriously. He looked so tired.

  “Before you say anything, I know I need to apologize. You were right, I was wrong. He was a monster, pure and simple. If I’d listened to you—”

  “Stop,” he all but shouted, causing me to jump. “Oh, I’m sorry, baby girl, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I won’t have you blaming yourself or apologizing for anything. Do you understand?”

  I nodded. He was strangely calm and quiet.

  “If I’d been allowed to share with you the Intel that I had, you might have taken it all more seriously. I couldn’t, so you didn’t. You have no reason to apologize. I’m the one that needs to apologize, baby. I didn’t keep you safe.”

  I wasn’t going to let this fight for blame continue. The bottom line was that monsters like Kyzer Stanfield needed to take responsibility for the things they did.

  “Please tell me that Kyzer’s been arrested.”

  “He has,” he replied.

  I breathed a sigh of relief, mentally thanking the God who had been watching over me once again.

  “And Susan?”

  “Yes.”

  Another “Thank you, God.”

  “Then, I guess I have a lot to be thankful for, Taz. Those are really the important things, right?”

  “The most important thing, baby, is that you woke up and you’re still alive, because you don’t know how close it was at times.”

  “I think I might have a clue,” I said, squeezing his hand. “I made my intentions known to the higher-ups while I was out.”

  He cocked a beautiful eyebrow at me which reminded me of some unfinished business I had with him.
/>   “Taz?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Come closer, please?”

  “Lindsey, honey, there’s all this stuff,” he said, indicating the tubes and IVs that were like spaghetti going in and out of my arms and stomach.

  He saw my look of determination and carefully picked his way through them to hoist himself up on the edge of my hospital bed so that he was next to me.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you something. It hit me while I was off in dreamland.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m listening, baby girl.”

  “I love you, Trace.”

  He smiled that wonderful, dazzling, sexy smile of his.

  “I love you, Lindsey. Haven’t you been listening?”

  Now it was my turn to be puzzled. He saw the frown crease my forehead.

  “I’ve told you that each and every day for the past three weeks. Will you ever get with the program?”

  He leaned over and gently kissed my lips several times and I knew that God had done me well. We were still cuddling when the nurse came in and seemed pleased that I was awake.

  “Well, finally,” she said, shooing Taz out of the bed to take my vitals.

  “I knew you’d be coming around,” she said, taking my wrist to verify my identification band.

  “I told this one as much every day seeing him here, moping around with that hang-dog look. It takes a while for those injuries to heal and the infection to clear up. Your surgery was done by one of the best, Ms. Dennison. He flew in from Boston General to reconstruct your bowel. You were lucky to have him.”

  Surgery? Reconstruct my bowel?

  Taz was watching me closely, reading my confusion. He cleared his throat. The nurse looked at him and I saw him shake his head “no” a couple of times. What in the hell was that about?

  “Where’s my mother?” I asked, finally realizing that it was strange for her not to be here, since I’d apparently skirted death by the skin of my teeth.

  The nurse was clearly puzzled that I’d asked that question.

  “Sweetie,” Taz said, taking my hand again, “you’re at Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville. You were air-lifted here once you were assessed at the trauma center in Atlanta because of the type of injuries you sustained.”

  I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

  “Your mother suffered a bit of a setback with the news of what had happened to you. She’s at Walter Reed now. She lost one of the twins.”

  God this has to be killing her!

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Everyone is hoping. They have to do surgery on her tomorrow. This just happened a couple of days ago. She got really, really ill. She’s been here to see you several times, but only briefly. It was too much for her, babe. She didn’t obey doctor’s orders; she insisted Slate bring her here. It’s been a mess.”

  “What surgery?” I asked.

  “They need to do some type of laser surgery so the remaining twin gets enough blood from the placenta on account of that TTTS condition.”

  “Oh God, Oh God, Taz.”

  “I know, baby. I know. But your mom wants you to focus on your recovery, okay? That’s why I’m here. She knows I won’t let you slack off.”

  He was trying to tease me now to make me feel better. I once again prayed to God that everything would be okay for Mom and her baby. How much worse could anything get? The nurse was recording my blood pressure and checking my urine output from the catheter bag.

  “Now,” she said, “Let me check your colostomy bags.”

  What?

  I heard Taz clear his throat. “I’ll just step outside to give Lindsey some privacy.” He departed quickly from the room.

  The nurse shook her head.

  “He’s been here daily and observed me doing this. He has plans to give you your post-release care. I don’t understand why all of a sudden he turned bashful,” she said, as if this was nothing. “He knows how to change these bags better than me.”

  I was frozen to the spot. I was unable to speak or comment.

  Suddenly, as I watched her lift my blanket and check the contents of two very distinct plastic bags on opposite ends of my abdomen, I was ready to rescind my prayers of thanks to the God who had played a monumental, crazy, sick joke on me.

  chapter 46

  ~ TAZ ~

  I walked down the hallway of the hospital, raking my hands through my hair. I couldn’t handle it. I was such a fucking, fucking coward. I’d left Lindsey’s room because I couldn’t handle the expression that I knew would cross her face when she saw those colostomy bags. She would have questions. I didn’t have answers.

  It had been just over three weeks since Agent Hardesty and I had opened that locked door to find her. No matter how hard I tried, I would never get that picture of her, arms up over her head, tied to the headboard of that bed, lying in her own blood out of my head. She’d been so pale; her skin so hot to the touch. She wasn’t conscious and I could only hope that she hadn’t felt too much pain prior to passing out.

  Someone had tossed a blanket on top of her. Hardesty went over to her first. I’d been frozen like a statute to where I stood. As Hardesty lifted the blanket, I could see she was only wearing ripped panties and a bra. I’d quickly un-froze.

  “Don’t touch her!” I’d yelled to Hardesty. I shoved him away and he sensed I wanted to provide what privacy I could for her at that moment.

  I pulled my Kydex knife from the sheath and cut the ropes that were binding her wrists and ankles. I wrapped her feverish, limp body up in the blanket, noticing all kinds of cuts and belt marks on her skin.

  At that very moment, for just that instant, I wanted to go back twenty minutes in time, when I had my weapon pulled and pressed against Kyzer Stanfield’s temple. I wouldn’t have paused for a second in releasing the entire clip into his fucking, sick brain.

  The locals were there within minutes, along with paramedics who quickly got her into the truck headed for a hospital in Marietta.

  She’d been assessed at the trauma center, and then air-lifted to Vanderbilt for the anticipated surgery required to reconstruct her lower bowel and rectum that had been torn apart by Kyzer’s brutal rape.

  The bacterial infection had prevented the surgery from taking place for over a week. Her surgeon had said that her situation was critical—if the bacteria got into her bloodstream, she could go into septic shock, which ultimately could result in organ failure and death.

  Once the surgery was performed, signs of infection appeared once again, and for the next ten days she’d been in the ICU. The doctor had performed what he hoped would be just a temporary colostomy as a means to minimize infection traveling to the area reconstructed and promote healing.

  Lindsey was alive and she was healing. I’d prayed over her constantly, bargained with God for her to survive. All I hoped for now was that she could accept that her survival might mean having to live with the colostomy for a period of time, possibly forever. The doctor said it could be reversed, but it was dependent on how well Lindsey healed without complications.

  I thought about how much I wanted to kill Kyzer Stanfield then and even now. It wasn’t enough that he’d been arrested, it wasn’t enough that we got Susan in the process, and that the barrels of cathine had been located at the R & D site, I wanted more. I wanted someone to pay with their blood for what Lindsey had endured at the hands of those maniacal thugs. I wanted retribution.

  I couldn’t think about that now. I needed to get back to her. Her doctor would be coming in shortly for his daily check. They’d induced her coma for the purpose of getting her through the pain of the surgery and infection.

  She’d need a few more days here and then I was taking her home, to my home to care for her as long as she needed me.

  I retraced my steps down the corridor. I was prepared now to answer the questions that I could, to reassure her that everything
was going to be okay.

  When I breezed back through the door to her room, she was wiping her eyes. The nurse had been back in to remove the catheter. She told me on her way out that the doctor had ordered the feeding tube removed, and it would be done shortly.

  I sat down next to Lindsey’s bed.

  “So babe,” I said, “everything is going to be okay. You know that, right?”

  She looked over at me, tears fresh in her eyes, shaking her head.

  “How can you say that, Taz? How will my life ever be the same like, like this?” Her hands motioned towards her abdomen as sobs escaped from her.

  I leaned over, taking her hands and putting them to my lips, kissing them.

  “Baby girl,” I said, “you’re young and healthy. Your doctor says that this will probably be just temporary until you fully heal, okay?”

  “And what if it’s not?” she asked, looking into my eyes, “what then?”

  “Then we’ll deal with it, sweetie—you and I will deal with it. It doesn’t change a thing. You understand that, right?”

  She nodded. I wasn’t sure she was convinced of that, but she needed to be.

  “Taz how come you’ve been able to spend all this time here with me?”

  “I took a leave of absence from the bureau. I want to take care of you, Lindsey.”

  She looked puzzled, not saying anything right away.

  “I don’t understand. Don’t you need a paycheck?”

  I smiled at her. Always the pragmatist.

  “I’ve tucked some money away, not to worry.”

  “Taz, I love you,” she said, “But I’m not comfortable with you seeing me like this, you know?”

  “Seeing you like what?”

  “You know what I’m talking about.”

  “No, Lindsey, you see, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Like this,” she repeated, nodding towards her abdomen.

  “What I understand is that you’ve been through something horrific, something horrible. But because of the strength you have, you have survived. You’re tough. Do you recall me telling you that I loved you?”