by Dawn Kunda
The one thing he needed to do was to protect Mary, his partner. If they got through this, he’d make sure she understood what he really wanted for them.
Jumping off the cot, he wobbled as the pain pulsed through his head. He caught his balance and lunged at the door handle. Locked.
* * * *
After a fitful night and little rest, Mary rubbed the side of her neck where the needle had buzzed and ripped her for half an hour. The burning sensation had disappeared. No mirrors adorned the room. The utilitarian bathroom had bare walls. She feared what had been engraved on her. It’d keep her as Chenzira’s prisoner, according to her latest hosts.
Still dressed, she pulled the sheet over her chest as the door silently swung open. Keeping her eyes to the floor, the same young woman who had directed her to this room set a different outfit on a stool.
“You must change for tea.” The woman disappeared before Mary could squeak out a request.
She waited till the door closed again. Hesitantly, she unfolded the arrangement, which consisted of a crème-colored blouse, matching long skirt, and a faintly patterned scarf. She wanted a mirror, and she needed to know where they had taken Cal. He would’ve been here, if he could. It was imperative that she trust his intention to protect her. He had tried to last time. She hadn’t openly admitted it, but she knew.
The bullet had only grazed her ribs. Cal had jumped for the shooter and knocked him off-kilter. Until now, with plenty of time to think and working with Cal again, she’d been stubborn in her reluctance to acknowledge that he had tried. Anyone else could’ve taken the easy way out and let her take a gut shot under the circumstances. Her independence got in the way more than it should have.
She’d escaped into the rocks of a many-miles-long beach. How Cal had found her at the same time as the hunter, she still didn’t know. She had never given him a chance to tell his side. Arrogant, that’s what she’d labeled him. For no other reason than to keep him at a distance. She matched his arrogance with her own.
Mary hastily changed into her next costume supplied by the enemy. The silent door reopened as she fumbled with a row of buttons down the front of the blouse. “Come with me, please.” The woman never looked directly at her.
She grabbed the woman’s arm. “Tell me, what’s on my neck?
“It is the mark of Roman Chenzira. He wants to keep you.”
“What kind of mark? I want to see it.”
“Please, this way.”
“Why won’t you tell me, or let me see it?” Silence. Mary huffed with frustration.
They arrived at a terrace, lit with the late-morning sun. Exotic plants, many shades of green and silver, surrounded a marble table. Chenzira sat at the table.
The woman discreetly exited. Mary glanced around and saw Cal pushed onto the terrace from another entry. His clothes were wrinkled. His crewed hair lay at an odd angle. His feet were bare.
She wanted to run to him as their gaze connected, yet Chenzira stood and waved them to the table. He smiled as if they all had slept well. “Sit here with me and enjoy the morning before we get to business.”
Cal’s eyes held pain, not the physical kind. Something much deeper troubled him. Mary’s heart slipped as she realized his predicament. The disgrace of his bare feet without sandals mocked his manhood. Surely his gun had been taken.
* * * *
“We will not tarry any longer with this meeting.” Chenzira pushed his teacup to the side. Cal and Mary hadn’t touched theirs as they sat opposite each other. With a menacing tone, Chenzira sneered, “As I said last evening, do you think I really trusted you? Agents?”
By this time, Cal expected to hear this. That’s why he had come up with another plan. He wanted to assure Mary, but too late for that.
“First,” Chenzira continued, “you must admire the artwork of my personal artist. Jendayi—I will call you that until I learn your real name—stand for us.”
Her face showed only defiance at the order, yet she didn’t refuse the request.
“Turn to your side for us, please, lovely American. Gentlemen,” Chenzira spoke to the surrounding guards. “You may leave.” He waited a moment for their dismissal. “Raise your hair, so we may admire my mark.”
“She will do no such thing.” Cal sprung from his seat just as Chenzira threw his arm at Cal’s waist.
“Sit. She will show us.”
“Yes, I want to know what you have done to me.” She fingered her hair and raised the uncombed tangle above her ear. “What is it? How have you marked me?”
Cal stared as a broad smile illuminated Chenzira’s face.
“What did he do to me?” She let her hair fall and spun around. “How bad is it?”
“It’s…”
“It’s my name, lovely one. Roman. Roman is on your neck. You will never be let out of my country with my mark.” He laughed. It grew stronger as he enjoyed his own game and prize. “I decided I should keep you. I know your code means nothing. And you,” Chenzira swung his gaze to Cal, “you will die as a traitor should.”
Chapter 7
“Mary. Mary, listen at the vent.” Mary heard Cal’s voice and looked around the stark room she occupied by herself. It was hardly a guest room as it boasted a mere five by eight feet. It didn’t resemble the glitz of the party, the fancy room of the past night, or the grandeur of the terrace where tea had been served. The discussion had abruptly ended during tea, and they had been taken to these rooms. Here, the floor consisted of dirt, aged and warped timbers constructed the walls, and a putrid smell of death permeated her nose.
She scooted to the floor vent housed between the two rooms of confinement. “Agent Guevin, what’s your brilliant plan that you haven’t told me about yet? Or is it too late?”
Ignoring her use of title, Cal answered, “Mary, I informed Ranier and Baier to watch what happened at the meeting this morning. I told them I had a funny feeling about Chenzira’s trust in us.”
Mary shivered, loosening up on the sarcasm. “You’re saying they should know where we are?”
“I’m hoping.”
Sitting in the dirt, she leaned against the equally grimy wall with her arms folded across her chest. She needed to lean to her side to talk through the vent. “What else? What can they do for us?”
“Pretty simple plan.” Mary didn’t hear an explanation. Maybe their discussion could be heard by the wrong people and Cal didn’t want to say too much. “Mary, I told you I’d protect you.”
She knew. “I know.”
Long spaces ensued in their clipped conversation. “Do you? I wouldn’t think so after the media in the last episode.”
“That was a couple years ago.”
“Still the same incident.”
“If you don’t want me to trust you, I can do that too.” Mary leaned closer to the grate and began with a low, angry tone. Anger diluted her need to cry. “I’m not sure who to be mad at right now, whether it’s our boss, Chenzira, the thugs who parked our transportation last night, the team, or you.” She avoided naming anyone associated with the operation.
Cal didn’t answer. “I doubt it’s you, though.” Her voice uncontrollably softened when she erased Cal’s blame from her list. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
After a long pause he said, “I deserved it.” She could hear him stretching his legs across the dirt and scattered rocks. “I did let one bullet get to you.”
“I heard the true story. Actually, just recently.” No return comment. “Our boss figured that I wouldn’t come here with you, if he didn’t tell me the truth.”
“So, I’m okay now?”
“You did save my life.” She spoke in nearly a whisper. After she admitted her knowledge, she still had a hard time accepting that she wanted him more than ever. Under these closed quarters with time inching along, she unwillingly recalled the stifled feelings she’d put under a rock and thrown to the river since their last assignment together. “How are you going to save me this time? I can
’t leave with his mark on my neck.”
“I don’t want to say too much.” His voice lowered another octave. “Have you ever seen security at the airport or at the embassy check anyone’s neck for a tattoo? I didn’t think so.”
“But…”
“We only have to get out of this compound. I can’t say anymore right now. Just trust me. Please.”
She wanted to with all her soul and heart.
* * * *
The light from the crack under the door faded with the day. Cal swallowed, imagining a tall cool one in his hand. Instead, dirt and dust floated down his throat. He had promised Mary her safety, so what happened to the plan quickly constructed with Ranier and Baier?
He worried more about saving Mary than the stirrings in his groin. Considering how tired he had become, he surprised himself with thoughts of touching her in places he hadn’t seen yet. He wondered what would’ve happened if they had been in the same cell.
“Cal?” Her whisper of his name rushed his blood to his male prize. “Cal, are you still there?”
“I’m here. You must’ve fallen asleep.” He didn’t admit that the problem kept his mind in turmoil, unable to sleep.
“Are they coming?” He knew she spoke of the other agents. “We have to get out of here.”
“You’re right. We will.” Just as he contemplated how to reassure her, a piercing and constant whistle echoed down the corridor. “That’s our call.”
“Cal, Cal? I can’t hear you anymore.”
She’d have to trust him. They wouldn’t be able to communicate until the siren shut down, or they were freed. Preferably the latter. Cal scrambled to his feet and quickly took three steps to hug the door and listen in preparation. He couldn’t discern any activity through the screech of the whistle.
He jumped back from the door as a large object banged against the wood. The siren kept its tune. Within a few more seconds, the door swung open and he found Agent Baier and an unknown agent who ushered him from his cell.
Reading Baier’s lips, Cal recognized the command to follow. “What about Reiss? We have to get her, too,” he shouted as he sprung over the Egyptian guard’s body sprawled on the floor. He shoved his way to the neighboring door.
“The key, where’s the key?” Cal moved aside as Agent Baier took his place in front of the locked door. As he busted the door inward, it nearly knocked Mary off her feet. She rapidly recovered, and paused as Cal matched her stare, then ran to his side.
Baier furtively glanced up and down the corridor, poked the side of the enemy on the ground to assure his demise, then instructed, “I can’t be seen with you. Hoffer will take you the rest of the way.” Baier turned one way and Agent Hoffer took them the other.
As Hoffer directed the two through the maze of corridors, they avoided the immediate screech of the siren and had the ability to communicate verbally for a brief time. “We have a max of four or five minutes to get you out of here.” Hoffer reached into a black bag that hung around his neck and shoulder. “I have guns and new cell phones for you.” He tossed each agent their safety net.
Mary and Cal strapped the weapons around their waists and shoved the cells into pockets. Cal shouted, “Run us through the plan in case you had to make any changes to our previous decision.”
Mary leaned in close to hear. “Everything’s working according to the plan you decided on yesterday. We started a fire in the center portion of the complex. The gates will open as soon as the fire trucks arrive.” Hoffer rapidly issued instructions on which fire truck they needed to access and hide in for their release when it left the grounds. “Our initial idea of the two of you escaping on foot while the gates are open is too risky because there’ll still be guards at the exit, which is far enough away that they will be checking anyone who passes through. With the mark on Reiss,” he nodded in her direction, “you won’t be leaving.”
Cal glanced at his partner and had a quick glimpse of the tear she batted away with a flutter of her dark eyelashes. She licked her dried lips, and said, “Guevin, go through the gates. You won’t have a problem. I’ll use the fire truck as an exit. Don’t hold back for me.”
Cal bristled at her order, knowing she had transferred back into her stubborn persona. “I’m not holding back. We’re doing what’s smart and we’re both going by way of the fire truck.”
“We need to move now.” Hoffer urged a decision. “It would be better to separate you. Less noticeable.”
“We’ll be stronger together. Once someone’s lost in this place, it’s unlikely we’ll see them again.” Cal grabbed Mary’s arm and felt the resistance as she shot him an alarming look of self-preservation. How much his body ached to protect, hold, and love her to pieces. It wouldn’t happen if she didn’t comply with his authority. “Reiss, I’m giving you an order. We stay together. The chaos will be our cover.”
He felt her arm give way, yet she stuck out her chin and matched his stare. “Whatever you say, Agent Guevin.”
He ignored the indifference of her tone as Hoffer mapped out their escape. “The others and I have been in the Hidden House too long to be caught with you. Do you understand the procedure?” Cal and Mary nodded as red lights flashed through a window down the corridor. “I have to leave you. Make sure you’re in the correct truck.”
“We’ll make it.” Cal didn’t bother looking at Mary this time. He didn’t want to experience her defiance. Once they evacuated the compound, he’d deal with her on another level.
* * * *
Mary needed to prove her strength. If she let Cal be her protector, save her, she wasn’t doing her job. She wouldn’t admit that staying with him would give her the necessary determination to get out of the Hidden House. She could do it on her own, but why tempt fate? If she were caught, she would disappear. Another way of saying she’d be as good as dead.
“I’m ready.” She adjusted her gun again and nodded for Hoffer’s dismissal.
Without another word, she wrapped her scarf to cover most of her face, ducked her head, and speedily walked the hall with Cal at her side. As they turned the next corner, the promised chaos became apparent. They mixed with the hundred or so caretakers and few guests left over from the previous night.
She glanced up at Cal to see if his expression gave way to their progress. His eyes intently focused on everything. He constantly glanced at the throng of people headed for any of the three exits the guards directed them toward. She knew he saw everything and everyone, all their actions, and any threat if one appeared.
Mary dipped her head. She didn’t need to attract the attention of an enemy, which would be nearly everyone else who ran from the planned fire. To guide her steps, she placed her hand on Cal’s back at his waist.
His heat penetrated her fingertips and threw her mind off course as racy thoughts invaded. How could she possibly conjure up the thoughts of his heated flesh along with visions of his naked body rising and falling over her? Control, she needed her control back.
Cal abruptly stopped. Mary stepped on the back of his heel and ran her chest into his back. He threw his hand behind him, grabbing for her. “Mary, stay tight to me and keep your head down.” She barely discerned his whispered demand, but knew well enough not to look up. “We’re being watched.”
That comment changed her direction of thought in a heartbeat. Without care, she’d never have the luxury of knowing the temperature she could cause his body to radiate. She drew in closer to Cal’s back and sidled to his left, further from the eyes at the exits.
He began to move again, ducking in and out among the others. They made it to the exit where a guard had the steel door swung wide. Mary discreetly peeked up enough to see Cal look the guard straight in the eye, challenging him to question their right to leave. She held her breath and the seconds followed in slow motion.
The guard broke the stare down for a moment. Cal held his stance long enough to dare the guard. Mary knew the necessity of proving his point. Her entire body shook with fear, fear emanat
ing from the fact that they had to get beyond this point.
A loud crack of flames splintered a wall from the corridor they had traveled. With the guard’s attention diverted, Cal made his move with Mary’s arm secure in his grip. His other hand rested on his gun.
He didn’t look back as he dodged across the lawn. “Let’s mix with the others until we spot fire truck 6139.” His breath came out in regular spurts.
“I can’t see the numbers from here.” Mary stood on tiptoe as she watched the moving trucks amidst a crowd of agitated spectators recently escaped from the fire. Black and gray smoke curled up from the center of the monstrous building. Somehow the soot had attached to their faces and bare hands. Streaks of black patterned their clothes. As the firemen yanked their hoses to the best advantage, random flames snaked out of the smoke clouds.
“I’m looking. Can’t see it yet, either.” Cal slowed his pace and turned his watchful eyes to the gated entrance. “More trucks are coming. I’ll be able to see the numbers as they get closer. We can’t miss our ride.”
Truck after truck poured through the iron bars. Mary saw them and watched as they roared past until no more came and the gates closed. Call didn’t announce a winner. “Cal.” She didn’t care that she used his first name. “There aren’t any more. Did you…?”
“No. I checked them all. The numbers were all five digits, not four.”
Mary nearly had to shout above the din. She leaned close to Cal’s ear. “Did we get the number wrong, or maybe Hoffer made a mistake?”
Cal stopped in his tracks, whirled around and hugged Mary to his chest. She felt his breath heat her scalp as she wanted to melt against him. Still, they had orders and the work didn’t end till they got to the American embassy. He looked down into her glassy eyes. “Hoffer? Have you worked with him before?”
