Alex's Atonement (Midnight Sons Book 2)

by Carmen DeSousa

  Chapter 19

  ~ Alex ~

  Alex downed two more glasses of water before he finally felt sated. Then, he downed the plain burger he’d ordered in four bites. He sat back, his stomach feeling the full weight of all the water and food he’d consumed in such a short time. Still, he wanted more. He hoped that Cal was being a good host and making sure that Irene had plenty of food and water.

  Vince eyed him. “Full?”

  “Not even close, but we have to come up with a plan.”

  Erik glanced over his shoulder, taking in the restaurant, then turned back to the booth. “Shouldn’t we just call the cops?”

  “This is Cal,” Alex said. “He has more money than all the families in Falcon Run put together. And how many aircraft? Eight, ten … that we know of. He’d be out of the country in minutes. And by the time the police get a warrant, Irene could be dead.” Alex shook his head. “We’ll worry about his illegal ventures after we get Irene back.”

  Vince nodded. “I agree. Cal’s a loose cannon, worse than his brother. So, what are you thinking, Alex?”

  Alex picked up another sweet-potato french fry, then pushed the plate away so he had space to think … to plan. “Cal instructed me not to call the cops, but we all know how excited the news gets when there’s a rescue. I’m thinking I could call in a tip. Only problem, I’m not sure where to make the exchange and how to keep the news away until we need them.”

  Vince stared at the ceiling. Erik swept up a few crumbs scattered around the table. Daire tapped his glass.

  Alex stared from face to face, then focused on Daire. “Come on, Daire. You watch more movies and play more video games than all of us put together.” Alex realized he was talking too loud, so he lowered his voice before he asked his question, “Haven’t you ever seen a hostage situation that works?”

  Daire shrugged. “Nah, man. The bad guys either play nice, or they don’t and someone gets killed.”

  Alex thumped his head. “Never say that again —”

  “Wait!” Vince cut him off. “Where are the … you know?”

  Alex jutted his chin in the direction of the parking lot. “In Erik’s truck.”

  Vince waved his hands. “I mean … what are they in?”

  “Two duffle bags. Why?”

  One side of Vince’s wide mouth turned up. “I know exactly where we can do the swap.”

  ***

  Alex paid the tab as his brothers headed to the parking lot.

  When Alex left the hotel, he spotted Erik and Daire moving the bags from Erik’s truck to Alex’s truck.

  He smiled. Vince is right. It looks perfectly normal.

  If Alex were waiting outside the Arrivals lane with two duffle bags, no one would look twice about someone picking him up. Except, he wouldn’t get into the van. He’d allow Cal and his thug to load the van as Irene hopped out to hug him. Perfectly normal. The only difference … after the bags were inside the van, Alex and Irene would head back to the terminal, and Cal would speed off.

  Cal wouldn’t dare try something at an international airport. And Alex was pretty sure that, even if there were drug-sniffing dogs, they’d be inside, monitoring the TSA checkpoint, not the area where people have already finished their flights.

  The only question was … would Cal view the airport as the best place to make the swap?

  ***

  “You’re out of your mind, Belgarde!” Cal’s voice boomed through the phone. “You think I’m gonna dangle a hundred pounds of meth in front of the cops?”

  “No,” Alex said. “You’re not. I am. I’m the one who’s going to carry them. You’ll just be picking me up. I’ll be on the far end of Arrivals, which means I’ll have to walk past all those exits. But … you know I’m right. It’s the one place that neither of us can pull something. You’d see if there were any police, and if there are, just drive off. You’ve done nothing wrong that they know of. I’m the one taking all the chances. I don’t care about your ventures; I just want Irene back.”

  “You got cojones, Alex. Maybe you should come work for me. One run and you’d be out of the red, my friend.”

  Alex wanted to growl I’m not your friend, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere. And running drugs. He’d definitely kill himself before he ever ran illegal drugs. Drugs killed people. He’d dedicated his life to saving people, so the last thing he would do was play a part in something that endangered the lives of both the users and the dealers. He’d only been involved two days, and he’d already watched a man murdered in cold blood.

  Still, Alex had to keep the peace. If Cal thought that Alex was interested, he might not want to kill him. “Hmm … never thought about that, Cal. After Irene is back home in San Fran, we can discuss terms.”

  The line was quiet. Cal seemed interested. Guess the man didn’t harbor as much animosity over his brother’s death as he’d claimed.

  Cal huffed out a laugh. “Damn, Alex. Here I thought you Midnight Sons were all straight and narrow. Sure … we’ll talk. Right now, let’s get this business squared away. Just so you know … if you get busted, even if the DEA comes sniffing around my place, they won’t find anything. I’m clean. My business is clean. You’ll be going to jail a long time if you get caught at an airport with a hundred pounds of meth. You could just do a fly-over at my house, you know.”

  “That’s okay. I’d rather take my chances and be assured that I’ll get Irene back.”

  “She really worth it? Thought you were the forever bachelor.”

  Alex shook his head. Seemed that Cal had kept tabs on Alex’s life. Then again, he lived in a small town. The problem with a small town is that everyone knew everyone’s social business, even though no one knew what went on behind closed doors. Like Cal’s doors.

  “I don’t know what you mean. I promised to get her home. That’s my job.”

  “Hmm … I don’t believe you, Alex. I think you’re in love with her, and when people love someone, I can use them —”

  Alex exhaled and tried to control his temper. “Make no mistake, Cal, you harm a hair on her head, and I don’t care where you seek sanctuary … I’ll find you.”

  “Ah, shucks, Alex, no need to make threats —”

  “It’s not a threat, it’s a vow.”

  Cal laughed. “I think we might work well together, Alex. What time am I picking you up from Ted Stevens?”

  Alex relaxed his grip on the phone. Cal was a businessman. He understood what was at stake, and since he’d murdered Kevin, maybe he did need another pilot. “One hour. one o’clock sharp.”

  It’d take Cal less than thirty minutes to fly back to Anchorage from Falcon Run, which meant that he wouldn’t have time to set up any traps. One o’clock in the afternoon was also a slow time of the day. If there were officers or agents stationed outside, chances are they’d be swapping lunch shifts. Plus, since Alex was only minutes away, he could use the time to make his phone calls from the cell parking lot. He still wanted reporters inside the terminal in the event something went wrong.

  “No can do, Alex. I can’t make it before five. I sent my pilot on a run.”

  Alex sighed. Just when he thought everything would run smoothly. Five o’clock was after sunset, so it’d be dark. Busy. More chances that officers would be on watch.

  “You’re a pilot, Cal.”

  Cal scoffed. “If I’m flying, who’s gonna watch your girlfriend?”

  Alex shook his head. “She’s not my girlfriend, Cal. But fine. Five o’clock sharp. I’ll be in the last pick-up spot.”

  The line clicked.

  “Damn!”

  Vince turned to him. “What happened? It sounded like it was going well. As well as can be expected anyway.”

  Alex rubbed his temples. “It was, and then I folded. Cal made a show of dominance at the end, taking back the control I had. Now, we have to wait until five. What the hell am I going to do for four hours?”

  “Call a reporter.”

  Alex groaned, and Vince grinne
d. “Hey, you said she was a reporter. Who knows who you can get to come?”

  “Yeah …” Alex gnawed on his bottom lip again. He stopped when he tasted blood. Either he’d worried his lip too much in the last forty-eight hours or the dehydration had caught up to him. He downed more water as Vince drove.

  “Where to?” Vince asked.

  Alex threw his head against the headrest. “Hell, I don’t know. I feel so utterly helpless. What am I going to do for four hours?”

  “We could drive there —”

  “No!” Alex said a bit too loudly. He picked up his phone, though. He didn’t want to alert Cal, but he could make sure his mother was safe. He turned the rear-view mirror so he could see behind the truck. Erik was less than a car length away, obviously making certain no other vehicles separated them.

  “Yeah?” Daire answered. “Where to?”

  “Vince,” Alex said, “pull into that gas station.” He pointed to the next block. “Daire, tell Erik to follow us in. Tell him that we’re going to leave the chopper at the base, and he’ll come with us for now. I want you to drive home. Take care of Mom, okay?”

  “Got it!” Daire didn’t fuss about wanting to stay in Anchorage, as Alex probably would have done if he were him, as he always wanted to be part of the action.

  Vince parked at the far end of the parking lot, and Erik hopped out. In seconds, Erik was crawling into the back seat, and Daire was squealing off, heading toward Falcon Run.

  Erik moved to the middle seat and practically knelt on the center console. “What’s the plan?”

  Alex turned to face Erik. “We have four hours to waste, and I can’t think of anything to do other than to head to the airport and start making phone calls.”

  “Four hours?” Erik echoed. “Cal might call in a troop in that amount of time.”

  “Who’s he got?”

  “Hell, I don’t know. Abe hung out with a bad sort, though. They were all probably working for Cal, so no telling what he has planned. I like the idea of meeting at the airport, but what guarantee do we have after that? What if he ambushes us on the way home? With only one main road home, he could pick us off and disappear.”

  Alex didn’t plan to spend his life looking over his shoulder. It’d been bad enough that he’d lived in the past for ten years.

  “Just head to the airport, Vince. I can’t worry about what might happen later; I need to concentrate on now.”

  Alex opened a browser in the phone and typed: report news tip. The first page that popped up offered a form. He didn’t have time for that. The next page had a phone number to correct errors.

  “Damn!” Alex growled. “I thought news stations wanted hot tips. Who do people call when they see us rescuing someone? How come the news always seems to be the first to arrive?”

  Erik snatched the phone from him and started tapping on the keys. Seconds later he stuck his arm in between the seats. “I found a number for the editor of the local news.”

  Alex grabbed it from him. “Where did you find that?”

  “I have more patience than you. Plus, you’re more frazzled than usual, Alex. I’ve never seen this side of you.”

  Ignoring Erik, Alex clicked the number.

  “Ahh … love sweet love …” Vince said in a singsong voice. “’Bout time Alex got bit. Why should it just be my lonely ass always strung up over a woman?”

  Alex may have been a player, but Vince loved women, really loved women. He couldn’t live without some honey keeping him in line. Although, he hadn’t been tied down since his wife walked out on him, taking everything with her, including the money that was supposed to have been earmarked to pay for his commercial fishing boat.

  “Hello?” a man answered.

  “Hi … ummm … is this the number to call if I have a …” Alex felt awkward. What would he say … that he had a hot tip? The plan had sounded simpler in his head.

  “Hello?” Irritation was clear in the man’s tone.

  “Yes, umm … I’m one of the Midnight Sons. Ever heard of us?”

  The man laughed. “Yes, son. I’ve heard of the Midnight Sons. How can I help you?”

  “Well, sir,” Alex said, since the man had called him Son and knew about his search & rescue team, he figured he must be older. “I just … um rescued a woman from a plane crash, and I think she might be important. She was reluctant to give her name, you know … like she might be someone.”

  He laughed again. “Go on.”

  The man was placating him. Alex would take whatever he could get. “Like I said, her private plane went down, and now I’m supposed to deliver her to Ted Stevens at five o’clock sharp. But get this … she said to drop her off at arrivals, so that no one would see her. She said if anyone saw her, she’d have me drive off. But that she usually just enters through Arrivals and makes her way to the checkpoint —”

  “Son, what are you trying to pull?”

  Alex raked his teeth over his chapped lips, then cringed from the pain. “Nothing. I just … umm … I was hoping there might be some sort of finder’s fee in it for me.”

  The man sniffed. “This woman have a name?”

  Here goes nothing … Would the man care that some journalist from San Francisco had crashed her private plane off the coast? Probably not. If the plane had crashed in Anchorage and was on fire, then maybe —

  “Son, I don’t have all day.”

  “Her name is Irene Rose …”

  “Irene Rose?” the man repeated as a question. A snap of fingers came through the line, then it sounded like the man had covered the phone as he mumbled to someone else. “You mean to tell me that you just rescued the Irene Rose?”

  The food and water that Alex had just gorged on threatened to make a reappearance. He’d made a grave error. He should have looked up Irene’s name first.

  He clicked End and opened the browser again. Who was Irene Rose?

  ~ Irene ~

  Irene paced the cellar.

  As much as she wanted to break open one of Cal’s prized cabernets to calm her nerves, she needed to keep her wits.

  What if Alex didn’t come for her? How long would she be stuck down here? How long would they keep her?

  She rifled through the cabinets that served as a galley kitchen. Jeff had stuffed the knife block, along with the long butcher and filet knives into a plastic sack and then had done the same with the set of steak knives he’d pulled from the silverware drawer. But maybe Cal had stashed a weapon down here in the event something went wrong during his meetings — or whatever he did in this windowless hole.

  First chance she’d had, Irene had moved Alex’s pocketknife to a more secure location in her boot. Since Cal hadn’t ordered Jeff to search her, she doubted they’d search her now. A pocketknife wasn’t an easy weapon for a woman to use against a man, though. One, her adversary would hear the moment she used the spring-loaded assisted-opening feature. Two, both men stood nearly a foot taller than she was and outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds.

  “I need a gun,” she said nearly inaudibly. Drug dealers were notorious for being paranoid. She imagined hidden cameras and recording devices stuffed into the air vents, capturing everything she said and did. Still, she needed a backup plan. She needed a real weapon.

  She hated guns, but … she wasn’t against defending herself. She’d gone through too much to keep the life she had to let someone steal it away from her.

  Irene moved furniture pieces, fished through dust-covered boxes, tapped along the floorboards, hoping to find a hollowed-out nook. Didn’t all drug dealers have hidey holes for their stash? Had all the books she’d read gotten it wrong? Cal certainly didn’t fit the profile. Even Alex had seemed shocked when Cal had shot Kevin in cold blood.

  Alex … Was he okay? Had his brothers really been on the way to the island? She and Alex had eaten the last of the protein bars, so he would be starving by now.

  CLICK.

  Irene hopped up from the floor and darted to the nearest seat: a
chair next to the rectangular plastic table in the middle of the room. She stared up at the stairwell as the door opened.

  “Yeah?” The man in the doorway wasn’t looking at her. He’d turned to look down the hallway before descending the steps. Although the silhouette was nothing but a black mass with light outlining him, it had to be Jeff. While Cal wasn’t a small guy, Jeff looked the role of a bodyguard or bouncer. Albeit a retired one, who’d slacked a bit on training and diet, but she doubted his fighting skills had deteriorated along with his midsection. “Five o’clock, Ted Stevens. I know, I know,” he called back to whoever was speaking to him.

  Was that where they were making the swap? Had to be. And it had to be Alex’s idea. No way would Cal want to be caught with two duffle bags of meth at an airport.

  Irene couldn’t hear anything from the other person, not even muffled words. Then again, Cal had never raised his voice. In fact, he always spoke in that quiet and calm manner, which was somehow more disturbing. An image of one of the James Bond villains popped into her head. She couldn’t remember which movie, as she’d binge-watched them in only a few days while she was sprawled out on her sofa. He’d been a spy too, she remembered. A Russian one. He came off as sophisticated and debonair. If he’d been English, M might have chosen him over Sean Connery.

  The door finally closed, and the shadow started down the stairs, arms full. She sat quietly, hands clasped above the table, but she maintained her scan of the room, looking for anything that might aid her escape if Alex fell through.

  Jeff was halfway down the stairs when light hit his face. She could rush him. Maybe knock him over the railing and charge the door. It hadn’t sounded as if he’d locked it behind him.

  Even if that worked, she’d have to deal with Cal upstairs, and he’d shot Kevin without a passing thought.

  “Hungry?” Jeff asked as he hopped off the last step. “I have leftover lasagna, salad if you’re vegan — or not — and water.”

  “I’m not vegan.” She had been. She’d spent more than ten years on a strict plant-based regimen. For years she’d led a stringent path of what she ate, what she drank, and even what she thought. It wasn’t easy to lead a stress-free life with everything she’d seen and done, but she damn well tried. She’d exercised regularly, meditated, took supplements, ate only organic, and still, the cancer monster had tracked her down. After she’d gone through the couple chemo treatments before the doctor decided to operate, she’d eaten anything she could keep down.