by Dawn Kunda
She didn’t have to answer as they both gasped.
Chapter 8
“Do what you do best. Think fast.” Cal noted sincerity in her voice. With the comment directed toward him, he never would’ve known Mary previously exhibited hostility in random comments toward their assignment together if he hadn’t experienced it.
“Let’s stay in this crowd for now. It’ll give us a few minutes to come up with plan B.” He attempted to casually swivel his stance to eye the crowd for any of Chenzira’s men. “We don’t know what happened to Baier and Ranier. We know that Chenzira is aware of our undercover status. At least mine.”
“I’m sure he knows about me, too,” Mary broke in. “I have no idea where Hoffer came from except that since Chenzira knows we’re spies of some sort, he easily could’ve set up the other agents with Hoffer. That means he knew our plan and he may know about Baier.”
“Not good. If we contrive a new plan now, there’s no way of Chenzira finding out.”
“What about the ambulances?”
“You’re reading my mind. It’s expected that we board a fire truck and head out.”
“It’d be hard for the gate guards to check my neck”—she bit her lower lip—“if I became a patient needing an ambulance.”
Cal tightened his grip still on her upper arm as his gaze darted over her head. “I’m not going to let you get hurt.”
If the surrounding grounds weren’t alive with the chaos of the fire, he’d swear they were alone as she rested her hand on his chest, letting it fall to his navel. Keep the heat, get rid of the mob and the clothes between their fiery skin, and this moment would be perfect. Perfect, if she knew what had really taken place during their last assignment together years ago.
“Cal, I do know what happened last time.” He wondered if she really could read his mind. He doubted that she really knew what happened. It wasn’t the right time to find out. Not when he needed to come up with a plan that included Mary not getting shot on his watch. Again. “Did you hear me?”
“I hope you do. I hope you do,” he muttered. A siren blast broke the spell. “Turn around.” She raised her eyebrows as her partner swung her around and reached his hand around her neck. He rubbed his palm over the tainted name inked into her skin, then bent to the ground to dirty his hand again in the scatters of soot.
“Good idea.” She began to help him cover the tattoo of ownership.
“Can’t be too careful. Let’s go. To the second ambulance.”
“Time to act.” Mary began to cough and wheeze as if she inhaled excessive smoke. Cal joined her in the false attack of smoke inhalation as they scooted up to the ambulance.
The medics rushed them to the back of the vehicle and administered an oxygen mask to each. Ushered into the ambulance, Mary collapsed at the edge of the gurney while Cal removed his mask to show he didn’t need further assistance. The double doors closed from outside help, and the ambulance headed to the first step of freedom.
Cal remained in a seated position and wore a grieved expression for the welfare of his companion.
“She’ll be fine.” The medic offered a smile and his assurance.
Cal glanced up to acknowledge the medic before he averted his stare to the small glass windows mounted in the back doors. Five minutes had passed in the race to the hospital. A black sedan with heavily tinted windows cruised uncomfortably close.
His hand always touched Mary as he silently considered whether the sedan could be occupied by Chenzira’s men. The ambulance had gotten through the gate without incident. Maybe all ambulances required an escort, yet what a peculiar necessity when the danger stayed behind them.
Hoffer, or some of Chenzira’s other men?
* * * *
Mary struggled to keep her eyes open a slit, yet appear closed as Cal’s hand left her shoulder. She sensed a frantic movement at her side. Letting her head fall to the side, she could see part of his actions.
He frantically dug in the pockets of his soot-encrusted jacket, then his pants. The cell phone Hoffer and Baier gave him tumbled to the floor of the ambulance and skittered underneath an equipment cabinet. He twisted around to dive after the apparatus.
The medic ordered Cal, “Sir, I need you to remain seated.”
Mary knew Cal had to have the same thoughts she entertained. Hoffer might be working for Chenzira and the cell phone tracked their movements. Yet, how did Baier fit in? What about the guns Hoffer transferred to them? Did Ranier have any part in the fiasco other than for the US?
Needing to share her thoughts, Mary feigned a burst of adrenaline and reached for Cal’s arm. She motioned for him to come close to her face. In a whisper, she urged, “Cal, the guns.” He nodded.
As if they were lovers or a couple, he kissed her cheek and followed with soft kisses to her ear. If only that could happen every day. She listened, trying to block out the commotion around the ambulance. Cal returned the trade of information. “We have an acquaintance in a sedan behind us.” Another kiss. “Don’t use your gun.” His statement let her know he had the same thoughts as he pulled away from the barely visited fantasy.
The ambulance careened around the circular drive in front of the hospital emergency entrance where the ride ended. The black sedan pulled tight to the back end, so only the roof could be seen through the ambulance’s back windows.
As soon as the ambulance jerked to a stop, a waiting medic at the emergency entrance swung the back doors wide. The medic in the van rolled the gurney to the metal edge of the truck.
Cal hunched down, saying, “Get ready.” Mary knew her role and nodded.
Time stepped up to another speed as the medics hoisted the gurney to the ground. Cal yanked a bag of saline from its hanger and jumped from the edge of the truck. Surprised expressions replaced the intent work of the medics.
Cal landed on the pavement as Mary shoved herself from the waist-level cot on wheels. A darkly clad arm from each side of the sedan pushed the doors wide. Noses of AK-47s protruded before two men evacuated the darkness of the sedan.
Time ran out for another visual message.
Training and instinct took over.
They don’t want to kill us. They need us. They don’t want to kill us. How she could think a full thought in the split second it took her to duck around the ambulance and mix with the half dozen other arrivals at the emergency port was unexplainable. Cal did the same, yet she needed to connect with him as he must’ve ducked near a different ambulance.
She scooted around the last truck, peeking underneath between the wheels to watch for his feet on the other side. The leather boots Cal had reacquired slinked past the back tire. They’d be able to meet at the front.
“Cal, I’m over here.” A loud whisper can work as well as a shout. Cal curved around the truck’s front and sunk low to the ground next to Mary.
“I doubt they’re ordered to kill us, but that won’t stop them if we don’t cooperate.” He spoke as he watched for the followers.
She leaned to the ground to check for herself. “I see their shoes. They’re walking and I can tell they’re looking around because their feet keep stopping and twisting to the side. They’re in black while the medics are in blue uniforms.”
Cal grabbed her arm and pulled her close. She couldn’t avoid his next remark.
* * * *
“I will protect you.” He looked into her eyes to make sure she believed him. She had said that she knew he had saved her on their last operation, yet he doubted she knew the whole story. The bullet that grazed her abdomen would’ve been a lot worse if he hadn’t intercepted the gun’s aim. Amidst another round of fire, her shoulder met a bullet and then it stopped. After that shot, Cal had promptly disappeared.
Mary met his gaze, then looked down at the bag of clear liquid in his grip. She raised her brow.
“It’s my weapon of choice in a tight situation.” Cal looked around. “The crowd isn’t big enough to disappear in, so we’re going to have to surprise them. Don’t
use the gun. It’s either not loaded or loaded to kill us.” He confirmed their mutual suspicion.
She dipped her head to look under the ambulance again. “They’re at the back of the ambulance. One on each side and coming to the front.”
Cal sliced the top of the bag with the bumper of the truck, holding it up to stop from spilling. “Take this. It’s saline solution. Squirt it in the face of the one on your side when he gets here. It’ll burn his eyes and give you time to run into the hospital. I’ll take care of the other one.”
He didn’t give her time to question his order.
They couldn’t have worked better as a team than if it had been choreographed. Mary popped up from her crouched position as Chenzira’s man nearly ran into her. Cal confronted the other man at the same time, meeting the man in black with a swift uppercut followed by a jab that slammed his head back. Cal took hold of the stock of the AK-47, shifting the aim to the sky as bullets began to spray. Man’s worst enemy, a knee to the groin, stopped the assault rifle’s attack.
Cal yanked and twisted the weapon and slammed it into Chenzira’s man’s skull with a bone-breaking crack. As he doubled over in pain, Cal turned to Mary who had already disappeared. Apparently she had gotten the solution into the eyes of her target and somehow he had ended up on the ground. The grounded man’s gun wasn’t visible, and it was time to evacuate the scene.
He claimed his attacker’s AK-47 as his own and ran to the hospital entrance, hoping Mary had done the same with her assailant’s gun. The glass door needed a tug to let him slip inside. Taking a deep breath, he moved to the edge of the doors and glanced outside. Mary wasn’t in sight. Chenzira’s men had risen from the ground. A medic administered water to the eyes of Mary’s foe. Guess it didn’t matter whether you were a terrorist or innocent victim when it came to medical attention.
The other attacker shoved the approaching medic to the side as he stumbled to clear the ambulance and search the area. This gave Cal a window of time to find her and to get the hell out of dodge. He scanned the lobby. Just as he swung to check out the nearest corridor, she appeared at his side. Disheveled and with a ripped sleeve, the rest of her remained intact.
“Let’s get to the far side of the hospital and find a phone,” Cal said as he took her arm, more in a possessive manner than as if she needed direction.
They traveled a length of twisting corridors and came upon another lobby, complete with one worn-out-looking pay phone.
“Keep an eye out for our friends. I’ll call our embassy.” Mary tucked herself into a neighboring alcove. Cal sidled up to the phone as he watched his periphery. Several times he repeated the numbers of the embassy along with a pin and card number to bypass the need for money.
He shifted his feet restlessly. One more time. Try the operator. Again, the series of memorized numbers.
“What’s wrong? Can’t you get through?”
Cal snorted in disgust. “I can’t use a public phone with the access numbers. I didn’t think so, but I wanted to see if I could bypass the system. It’s not working and we’re wasting time.”
“Let’s get out of here and head in the right direction.” Mary glanced at her hanging sleeve. The next thing he knew, she yanked the sleeve from her shoulder and did the same to the other. “Now I’ll just look like a tourist with bare arms.”
Cal allowed his lips to form a minute curve before he connected with her arm again and struck out for the next exit. With a slightly quickened breath to match his pace, he enumerated their situation. “First, I left the phone in the ambulance.”
“I did, too.”
“Quite likely there’s an active GPS system installed. Anyone checking will think we’re still at the emergency entrance. The only thing our guns are good for might be a bludgeoning device because I’m sure they’re booby trapped.”
“I already used mine…”
“What?” Cal looked at her and felt pinpricks of nervousness glide across his arms.
“I didn’t shoot it. I throated Chenzira’s man with it. Just wanted to give him an extra punch while his eyes burned.”
He shook his head and breathed out a low chuckle. “I should never underestimate my partner.” He reaffirmed his grip on her wrist and turned down another bright hall with the hopes that the light came from the outside.
A set of glass doors appeared, revealing a gathering of shrubs on the far side. “My guess is we’re about four or five miles from the embassy. That’s up to a two-hour walk.” He looked at the sinking sun. “Part of the city between us and the embassy won’t be travel-worthy by the time we’ll get to it.”
She followed his gaze as he considered her attire. By her usual standards, the outfit looked ridiculous. She had been dressed in leather sandals tied around the ankle followed by pants that billowed like a skirt. Now her blouse bared her arms. Fortunately, her blouse had untied at the waist to cover her skin, so she wouldn’t be mistaken as a night dancer. That would definitely be detrimental because she wouldn’t get anywhere with the overexposure of skin and Chenzira’s mark on her neck.
He shifted his eyes to check the lobby again, then fingered the gold chain around her neck. As if they weren’t running for their lives, he sensed a shiver full of warmth and a touch of lust run over her olive skin. Or maybe he wished her to feel this way.
“I should take the gold off. Less attention.” She broke the spell as quickly as it happened.
“Actually, we could sell these before the sun goes down and find a room. I don’t see any way to safely make it to the embassy tonight without running into the wrong people. They’re everywhere.”
She dipped her chin as he continued to caress the chain. He wanted to run his fingers down her chest and continue his lustful thoughts into actions, but she interrupted. “We better go then.”
Chapter 9
The night had folded over them as the agents approached the worn door of a seedy motel stationed a couple blocks off the main traffic route. A dirt-encrusted, yellowed globe light barely sent out a dim light onto the dirt path in front of the office lobby.
Cal pushed the door inward while Mary felt his arm at the small of her back to usher her ahead. The lobby wasn’t in any better shape than the entryway. Beaten boards covered the floor and supported as much dirt as they left outside. She smelled a dank and musty, yet spice-tainted scent that accompanied the smoky air. Dark walls of an indiscernible color surrounded the room.
“What is your business?” A short man with a dark beard and suspicious eyes glared at his soon-to-be customers.
“My wife and I need a room for the night.”
“You no want to stay here. Tourists not come west of city.” Mary understood the chopped English as a common trait of the lower class.
She made a necessary excuse. “I’m studying Egyptian culture.” With a gulp, she added, “We want to stay away from the noise of the large hotels and experience another part of your city.”
The clerk warily looked her up and down and offered a surreptitious glance toward Cal. Apparently their attire revealed a lame attempt to be within the culture, so he bought the explanation. “Down hall, last room on left. Ten rubles.” He held his hand out.
Cal dug in his pocket and pulled out the money he’d gotten from a weak sale on the necklace. There was little left, yet they had grabbed a plate of lentils and chickpeas mixed sparingly with chicken and a curdled cheese from a street vendor. The vendor had been scraping his pot when they begged him and offered to take whatever he had left for a doubled price.
Cal counted his pocket money before the clerk exchanged a rusty key for the payment. He repeated, “Last on left.”
Mary stayed near Cal as they turned to the hall. She felt the eyes of the clerk bore into her back. A shiver weaved up her spine in spite of her long hair, which covered the mark. She had been inked. Marked. Branded. Who had thought when she saturated her mind with legal theory in college and law school she would end up as a pawn for a terrorist?
She ha
dn’t directed her endeavors to the CIA until she attended a workshop. Originally slated to excite the listeners about criminal law litigation, the performing attorney went off on a tangent about his dreams to work with the CIA. Mary was hooked.
At one time, she had also considered getting a tattoo upon graduating. Kind of a gift to herself to exemplify that she still had a life after three years of twelve-hour days filled with law.
“Here’s our room.” Cal disrupted her reminiscing.
“I need a shower and a bed.” Mary looked down at his hand as he jiggled the key in a loose lock. “You still have blood on your hand.”
He paused, then wiped the back of his hand across his pants. “I hope there’s a shower,” he agreed.
Inside the room, she sought out the bathroom. Apparently the motel didn’t have a cleaning staff. The faucet handles on the sink were grimy and crusted with dirt. A drain in the broken tiled floor and a tarnished, handheld showerhead hung loosely on the wall. The closest to a shower she’d get. “Better than nothing,” she muttered as she closed the door behind her. The door didn’t latch and swung open with each attempt. Mary noticed Cal standing adjacent to the bed with his eyes trained on her effort. “You’re going to have to turn around because I’m not giving you a show, if that’s what you’re hoping for, Agent Guevin.”
She blocked the door with her shoe and turned the showerhead on. Her dried fingers peeled off the sticky blouse, laying it across the sink. The thin material of her trousers fell to the floor with a flick of the hook at her waist.
She slipped the three flash drives, stuck to the underside of her breasts from perspiration, between the folds of her pants. Lace panties and her bra dropped alongside the other clothing. Carefully removing the gun from the strap at the inside of her thigh, she stowed it behind the poor excuse for a bidet. Her toes slipped the undergarments near the drain. She needed something clean to slip into in the morning.
