Cut and Run

by Fern Michaels

  “What’s the situation with Annie’s business manager? She ordered him to pay up so Enrico wouldn’t harm the villagers. Is that still on the table now that Annie managed to get away?” Nikki asked.

  “I haven’t heard from Connor since the original call. I simply do not know. I don’t even know if he knows that Annie broke free. I’ve called him twice, and both times the calls went to voice mail. I’ve left detailed messages. I’m still waiting to hear back from him. For all I know, he could be communicating directly with Enrico,” Charles said. His frustration was evident in that he kept rubbing the stubble on his cheeks and chin.

  “I’m freezing out here,” Maggie grumbled. “It’s raw and cold, and the drizzle is not going to go away anytime soon. We need to get this show on the road, guys.”

  The Sisters concurred by rubbing their hands together and stomping their feet. The boys started to move off in the direction of Avery Snowden’s van, which sat in the middle of the parking lot like a lone lost soldier. The single lamp, high on a pole, cast a scary blue glow over the white van. The pavement was wet and slick with oil, and it glistened in the eerie blue light.

  “It’s settled, then,” Myra said in a voice that held no room for argument. “The boys are going to the Village of Tears, and the rest of us are going into town to Enrico’s apartment to rescue Annie. It’s late now, so there shouldn’t be that much traffic. We’ll use the van Ted rented for us. The problem is what to do with all these mopeds.”

  “I’m on that,” Dennis said. “I just e-mailed the rental company, and, for a fee, they will come and pick them up in the morning. We’re good to go.”

  Cyrus barked his happiness as he sprinted to the white van. He was the first one aboard. He continued to bark his happiness until Harry told him to cool his jets, at which point Cyrus leaped up and wrapped his paws around the martial artist’s neck and proceeded to lick his cheeks. In spite of himself, Harry laughed out loud. The tension eased among the group in an instant.

  The women moved off toward the van, their heads down as they tried to avoid the stinging, wet, cold drizzle. When they reached the van, Kathryn, who was in the lead, opened the door. She looked around to see Charles and Fergus. “No, no! You two go with the boys. This is our mission. We can handle this.”

  Fergus squared his shoulders as he prepared to board the van as Charles sucked in his breath.

  All it took was one hard, steely look from Myra and Yoko springing forward on her toes in the eerie light to make both men turn around and head to Avery Snowden’s van.

  “Women power! I like that.” Isabelle giggled.

  Kathryn settled herself behind the wheel. “Maggie, you ride shotgun. Program the GPS and we’re good to go.”

  The Sisters settled in, buckled up, and whispered among themselves so as not to distract Kathryn, who drove the van like she drove her eighteen-wheeler.

  Two hours later, Kathryn called out, “We’re making good time, people. Another thirty minutes, and we’ll make our destination. Decide how we’re going to penetrate the building. Do we go in the front door, or do we go in through the garage?”

  “I vote for the garage,” Nikki called out loud enough for Kathryn to hear.

  The Sisters concurred with Nikki, shouting out that they didn’t need to look for trouble, and trouble was the front door, with its possible security guard.

  “We’re coming, Annie. We’re almost there,” Myra muttered over and over to herself. She could hardly wait to wrap her arms around her old friend.

  Forty minutes later, Kathryn slowed the van. “We’re here, girls!” Maggie bellowed from the passenger seat.

  The Sisters sat upright and unbuckled their seat belts on cue. They settled their backpacks firmly over their shoulders as they prepared to spring forward.

  “This is not good,” Kathryn shouted. “There’s a grille that goes from top to bottom. I guess the residents have a keycard to raise the grille. What should we do?”

  The Sisters conferred. There was no apparent solution.

  “Back up and wait for someone to open it up. Be ready to follow right behind them. It’s either that, or you crash through the gate, which will certainly bring the police,” Nikki said.

  Kathryn did as instructed, grumbling as she did so.

  “Relax, I think people will be returning from their nights out soon. Just keep the engine running so you can follow right behind them,” Myra said.

  Exactly nineteen minutes later, a minivan slid to a stop. The security grille started to rise slowly. The low-slung minivan moved, Kathryn almost on the minivan’s bumper.

  “You did it! Good going, Kathryn,” Yoko said as she raced to the front of the van. “Park in the first slot you see. We’ll walk the rest of the way till we find an elevator.”

  “We’re coming, Annie. We’re almost there!” Myra whispered to herself.

  Myra was second off the van as her gaze swept the garage for some sign of where the elevator might be. When she spotted the sign, she broke into a run, the Sisters behind her. She was breathless when she pressed the big red button to open the elevator door.

  It wasn’t a big elevator, but somehow they all managed to squeeze into the mahogany-walled square that would take them to where Annie waited.

  “Fancy elevator. Even has a carpet,” Isabelle said.

  “And this is important, why?” Maggie shot back.

  “It’s not. I was just making conversation because I’m nervous. Is that okay with you, Miss Smartass Reporter?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Isabelle.”

  “No problem. Did anyone press the button?” No one had. Nikki pressed the button, and the elevator started to rise. The doors opened in a matter of seconds.

  “Eighth floor! Annie is in 809. Let’s go, girls!”

  Myra led the rush. She was breathless when she reached the end of the hall, with 809 the last apartment on the right-hand side of the long hallway. She closed her fist and thumped the door, three sharp thumps. She looked up to see an eyeball staring at her. “Annie!”

  The door started to open slowly, too slowly for Myra. She pushed it inward and screamed Annie’s name.

  “I can hear you, Myra!” Annie laughed as she hobbled to Myra and wrapped her arms around her best friend in the whole world. And then she held her arms open to welcome the others. Tears flowed as the women clung to each other.

  “It must be a nice feeling to be loved like that,” Sophia whispered to Dr. Miguel.

  “I would think it’s a wonderful feeling. I never felt love like that. I guess you haven’t, either. It’s a beautiful thing to see. We need to rejoice with them.”

  “Girls, girls, I want you to meet two wonderful people. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. Sophia, Andres, these are my friends from America, who came to rescue me. Myra, Nikki, Isabelle, Alexis, Maggie, Kathryn, and Yoko, meet Sophia and Dr. Andres Miguel.”

  Smiles, laughter, and handshakes followed. More chatter, a discussion about Annie’s leg and the strange clothes she was wearing, which she explained belonged to Enrico Araceli. “I needed to take a shower, and I wanted clean clothes. Everything is cashmere, even these sweatpants. I didn’t know there was such a thing as cashmere sweatpants. That skunk has expensive taste. These duds are brand-new, the tags were still on them; otherwise, I wouldn’t be wearing them.” Everyone laughed.

  “What are you going to do now?” Sophia asked. “I don’t know how safe we are here. I would suggest you go with your people, and Dr. Miguel and I will find someplace to go for the time being.”

  “Sophia is right,” Myra said. “Annie, are you good to go?”

  “I am. I won’t hold you up.”

  “You need to give your leg a rest. Prop it up from time to time. Go now! I can’t guarantee how long the curious reception clerk will remain quiet. For some reason I see him coming up here to see if Enrico is indeed here,” Andres said.

  Myra nodded. Annie was first at the door, then turned to hobble back. She hugged Sophia an
d Andres, hard. “ ‘Thank you’ hardly seems enough.”

  “It is enough. Go! Andres and I will be fine,” Sophia said, her eyes flooding with tears.

  More hugs, more handshakes, more tears, and the Sisters were gone as they scurried from the apartment, down the hall, and then down the stairs to the garage level.

  “Where’s Fergus?” Annie asked as she settled herself into her seat.

  Nikki explained that the boys had gone ahead to the Village of Tears, along with Avery.

  “Enrico is deranged. Did Connor pay my ransom?” Annie asked.

  “We don’t know,” Myra said. “Charles said his calls went straight to voice mail.”

  Annie frowned as she tried to digest the information she was hearing. “Enrico took all my credentials and my sat phone, as well as Myra’s. Can I borrow someone’s phone? I need to make a few calls.” Nikki handed over her special phone. The Sisters turned around to give Annie the privacy she needed to make her calls.

  “Where are we going, girls?” Kathryn asked as she cranked the engine.

  “The Village of Tears. Where else?” Nikki said.

  “Maggie, do your thing with the GPS. We have a long drive ahead of us, people.”

  “There’s one good thing about all of this. We’re all together,” Myra said happily as she stared at the back of Annie’s head. “Right now, that’s all that matters.”

  “Hear! Hear!” Alexis shouted.

  Chapter 12

  Avery Snowden cut the engine of his motorcycle, dismounted, and walked it the rest of the way into a grove of fig trees that was darker than midnight. He shook the rain from his windbreaker and rolled his shoulders to ease the tension from his long, wet ride here to the Village of Tears. “Talk to me,” he barked to his six-person team, which consisted of four men and two women, as he entered the van that was sitting like a lone sentinel in the grove.

  “The villagers are split up into three groups: at the church, the school, and the padre’s residence. There are three men guarding the school. The two brothers are at the school, along with one other man. Enrico is at the rectory, with two thugs who he sends out from time to time. Right now he’s alone inside with the priests. The people in the church are guarded by a six-man team.

  “Other clusters of people, and that includes children, are being held in individual houses. We can’t confirm the numbers. The town is dark. We were crawling around on our bellies, and there are dogs who bark incessantly. Not an ideal situation. The good news is that the rain muffled any sounds we made.

  “The guards, for want of a better term, are what the locals would call wharf rats, thugs who will do anything for a few euros. They all have guns. A motley crew, to be sure. The dregs of humanity. Here you can buy guns very easily on the black market.”

  “Cell phone reception here is bad unless you have a sat phone like ours. This guy Enrico has one that appears to look like one of ours. It’s possible it’s Annie’s or Myra’s. It was hard to see in the dark even with the infrared lens. I would assume he’s using either the one belonging to the countess or Mrs. Rutledge. You did say he confiscated theirs on their arrival. We had him in our sights when he stepped out to make a call, but it was impossible to hear his end of the conversation with the rain.”

  “How long ago did Melrose and Manza head out there?” Snowden asked.

  “Forty minutes ago. They’re using the night-vision gear. No one is out and about because of the weather. Sometimes, the wharf rats step out to smoke. We know which houses some of the people are in because the lights are on. The rest of the village is dark.”

  “Who else besides the two padres are in the rectory with Enrico?” Snowden asked.

  “There’s a middle-aged man, late forties. The two guards left a short while ago. I used our voice activator, but even so it was hard to hear. I think he’s the mayor, the constable, the judge, and he’s a lawyer. He wears all those hats, so he’s more or less the head of the village. There’s another young guy, a deputy of sorts, I think. I can’t say if they had weapons or not. Even if they did, they would have been confiscated.

  “It was very tense in there, I can tell you that. I was going to go back when you arrived. What do you want me to do? The old padre is not holding up too well, and the younger padre took a few cuffs to the head from Enrico. The big guy tried to intervene but got punched down by Enrico’s threatening to shoot the old padre. He’s deranged, boss.”

  “So you’re saying there are three guns in the rectory.”

  “Yeah, boss, and that guy Enrico appears to want to shoot someone. He will, too. I don’t see him being long on patience.”

  Snowden nodded. “Go! Be careful, Barker.”

  “Always, boss, always.”

  Snowden dropped his head into his hands. He dreaded Charles Martin’s arrival, because he had very little to report. Sir Charles did not suffer fools. More to the point, he himself did not suffer fools, either, and that’s exactly how he felt at the moment.

  Snowden felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it out to see who the caller was. Charles. He took a long, deep breath and clicked it on. “Where are you?”

  “Ninety minutes out if our calculations are right. Update, please.”

  Snowden made no excuses. He reported the facts as they had been reported to him. “We’re hunkered in for the most part. The weather is foul, as you know. The only plus is we know where everyone is, at least for now. It appears that Enrico is losing patience. Unfortunately, we don’t have ears on anything. Opticals aren’t all that good, either. Dogs are barking incessantly. Any word on Annie and the others? Is she secure?”

  “Annie is fine. The girls are on their way here. They’re an hour behind us. Sit tight. Wait, one last question. Do you know how Enrico is communicating with his men? Are they using phones, or is he going from building to building?”

  “They have phones. But Enrico did go to the school, where the two brothers are, along with one other guard. No real head count, but the school appears to be full.”

  The old spies signed off.

  Snowden rolled his shoulders to ease the tension he was feeling. He needed to do something, and he needed to do it now. No way was he going to sit inside this van twiddling his thumbs for the next ninety minutes. He pawed through his rucksack, searching for the special dog spray he and all his operatives carried. It was a special concoction that would fell an animal for forty-five minutes but would not harm the animal in a permanent way. Even though there were no reports of dogs roaming around or even tied up outside, he couldn’t afford to take any chances. He jammed the canister into one of the pockets of his cargo pants. He continued to transfer different articles to the other pockets. He didn’t want to be encumbered if he had to drop to his belly and crawl around in the muck.

  “Stay sharp,” he ordered to his two remaining operatives as he exited the van. He looked around to get his bearings. He was glad it was dark, but he hated the bone-chilling wetness that slapped at him square in the face. He shrugged it off as he moved forward, careful to stay in the clusters of trees that dripped heavy rain.

  Avery approached the entrance to the village. He had on his night-vision goggles. The simple sign declaring the village’s name appeared to have been carved by a master craftsman and had weathered well over time. Everything in his line of vision was green.

  The village was totally dark except for five or six pinpoints of yellow light spilling out of the windows in the buildings where the villagers were being held.

  He knew that in the bright light of day, with the sun shining, this little village was the same as many small towns in Middle America. He knew the villagers took care of their little houses, maintained their gardens and yards. He clearly remembered Annie once describing the village and what she had done to bring it into the modern world. Somewhere, there was a town square for local festivities. He clearly remembered her saying the church glistened in the bright sun. She’d also said the church was peaceful, the pews polished to a high
sheen. She’d said it smelled like candle wax and found it comforting. She’d prayed there often after the death of her family at sea.

  Snowden moved stealthily as he chose the school as his target. He wasn’t sure, but he thought the two brothers might be the weak link in their brother’s operation. He hoped he wasn’t wrong. A minute later, he made the decision that eyes on was his choice of action. Sometimes body language was almost better than a verbal conversation.

  Avery stopped dead in his tracks when he felt something brush up against his leg. He looked down through his night-vision goggles that had turned the world green to see a soaking-wet cat trying to crawl up his leg. Some child’s pet. He didn’t stop to think; he bent down, scooped it up, then slid the drenched cat inside his windbreaker. The cat, a little bigger than a kitten, squirmed, jiggled, then found a comfortable spot and glued itself to Avery’s flannel shirt. It meowed softly. Avery found himself smiling as he moved forward, surprised at how comforting the cat felt nestled against his chest.

  Snowden moved slowly, his gaze sweeping the driveway and the narrow paths that led up to the schoolroom doors. Back in the States, this little schoolhouse would be considered a country school, with small rooms and small classes and teachers who weren’t certified. Although Annie said several of the young people she had sent to the university had returned to the village to teach. He hoped that was the case since education was so vital in this day and age.

  Four steps led to the thick, wide, plank door, with hinges that looked like they belonged to some medieval structure back in the days of moats and castles. Snowden assumed that the same sorts of hinges would be on the inside to secure the doors and were inevitably in place.

  He stayed in the trees as he made his way back along the side to what he assumed was a back door and playground. He allowed himself a smile as he felt the little cat snuggle more deeply against him. He or she must be feeling his body warmth. The thought pleased him enormously. He hoped some child wasn’t crying for the loss of his or her pet. He made a silent promise to himself not to leave the area until he reunited the cat with its person.