Mad Dog laughed again, louder than before. “Perfect. I’m going to have fun letting you watch what I do to your two ladies.”
Somehow Mick tempered his killing anger, marshaling it for when the time was right because he would exterminate Mad Dog today. It had been a long time coming, but this vendetta would end this night.
“Bring it on,” Mick said.
Sins of the Flesh: Chapter Thirty-Nine
Mad Dog copied Mick’s stance, hands held up loosely, feet braced slightly apart. Ready for any attack or defense.
They approached each other, anticipating the other’s movements. Feinting and challenging until Mad Dog finally pressed forward with an attack, shooting out with a drop kick which Mick blocked with his arm.
Mick fell back, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Waiting for another attack as he played his own version of rope-a-dope, understanding Mad Dog well. Mad Dog thought himself invincible. Never a good trait.
Mad Dog charged him time and time again, unleashing flurries of kicks and punches which Mick repeatedly blocked, waiting for his moment. His arms and legs ached from Mad Dog’s blows, but the pain was minor compared to how Mad Dog would feel when Mick finally engaged him.
Mick ducked another drop kick, but Mad Dog surprised him by following up with flying roundhouse kick that caught him across the side of the head. Staggered for a moment, he intentionally let down his guard, inviting Mad Dog closer.
The other man accepted, charging in for the kill.
* * *
Mick had told her to stay put, but Caterina couldn’t keep on listening to the sounds of battle within the room, unaware of whether Mick was dead or alive.
As she neared the door, she stepped on the satchel by her foot and realized why he had left it behind.
She bent, opened the bag, and removed the clip. Forced herself to remember how Mick had loaded the gun and locked the clip home.
As she walked to the door, the white of her hand against the rifle stock shocked her. It was the white of the tunnel walls. Prompted by her fear for Mick, she had gone all camo.
It was what might make a difference in today’s outcome.
Caterina placed the rifle down as she quickly disrobed, even down to removing the Kevlar vest Mick had insisted she wear.
Her body was the same mottled white as the walls and as she entered the room, rifle in hand, neither of the two men noticed her entry.
They were grappling together to one side of the room.
Mick delivered an upper cut to the other man’s midsection, doubling him over then following-up with another blow that lifted Mad Dog’s body from the ground with the force of it. The blow made a sickening crunch as bones broke.
With Mad Dog doubled over, Mick brought his elbow down across the back of the man’s neck.
Mad Dog crumpled to the ground, his body limp at Mick’s feet.
Mick slowly stood upright, bloodied fists clenched at his sides as he glanced down at his opponent. His body heaving as he sucked in breaths heavy from his physical exertions.
Believing the battle concluded, she dropped the rifle, drawing Mick’s attention, although he peered with confusion at where she stood, obviously not seeing her.
Heavy pounding footsteps sounded as something big lumbered across the room and plowed into Mick, sending him crashing into the opposite wall with a bone-rattling blow.
Mick’s head rebounded against the wall and as he sagged to the ground, a trail of blood marked his fall to the ground.
Caterina drew in a shocked breath, earning the attention of the one man left standing.
Santiago.
She remembered him now from the medical facility. Remembered him fighting with another man the night Wells had been murdered.
Santiago searched out the sound and she reached down, picked up the rifle once again. She shifted toward the shadows, wanting to maintain the element of surprise since she didn’t think she was much of a match for the large hulking man.
As she did so, Mad Dog stirred, coming to his knees as he shook his head, as if to toss off his dizziness.
Mad Dog snared Santiago’s attention, who plodded over and stood there, waiting for Mad Dog to rise.
Once he was upright, Mad Dog stared past the tattooed brute to where Mick sat unconscious against the far wall.
Mad Dog put his hands on his hips and chastised the hulking man. “Hope you didn’t kill him, big guy. That would spoil all the fun.”
Shit, Caterina thought, tightening her grip on the rifle. Hoping she wouldn’t have to use it because . . .
Santiago surged forward and grabbed Mad Dog around the neck. Snapped it with one swift twist.
Mad Dog fell to the ground, only this time he wouldn’t be getting up. His head rested at an unnatural angle against the floor as his sightless eyes stared toward her.
A moan came from across the room. Mick was beginning to stir.
Santiago noticed immediately.
The big man took a step toward Mick, clearly intending to finish him off, but Caterina couldn’t let that happen.
She pounded the wall with the butt of the rifle, drawing Santiago’s attention away from Mick.
The massive man turned in her direction, immensely muscled arms open wide to draw someone into their deadly embrace. The broad width of his chest providing a huge target. The proverbial side of a barn.
She drew up the rifle, aimed, and pulled the trigger.
The first bullet struck Santiago high up on one shoulder. The bullet did as much damage as a BB might.
Her next shot went wide from the kick of the rifle and Santiago lurched in her direction.
Caterina raced deeper into the shadows so she could prepare to shoot again. Her body color changed as she ran, providing her cover, but as she cut across the room, she stepped into something wet and slippery.
Her feet flew out from under her and she landed hard, just a few feet away from the chair holding Liliana.
Santiago rounded the back of the chair and stopped short, searching the area for her.
Caterina held her breath, waiting for him to charge. Trying to figure out what to do next. She hoped she could get the rifle up in time to get off another round.
From across the room came the scuffle of a footstep and a pained breath.
Mick was on his feet, the wall behind him the one thing that seemed to be keeping him upright.
Santiago turned in that direction and laughed. The large loud laugh of a lunatic. It echoed eerily throughout the room until another smaller sound intruded.
A soft pop. No louder than a soda can opening. Followed by a second pop that finally silenced Santiago’s insane humor.
The colossal man landed barely a yard away from her, shaking the ground with the force of his impact, a neat round hole in the middle of his forehead.
Caterina scrambled to her feet and over to where Mick slowly sagged back down the wall. She kneeled beside him and reined herself in, regaining the normal human tones of her skin.
“Must be in heaven ‘cuz I see an angel,” Mick said, wincing since it seemed every breath cost him great effort. The deep rattle that came from his chest caused her heart to constrict with fear as did his slightly unfocused gaze and the blood on the wall behind his head.
“We need to get you to a hospital.”
A limp and ungraceful nod confirmed that Mick understood, but somehow he managed to say, “Liliana.”
“Give me a second to dress.” Caterina left him the rifle just in case and quickly retrieved her clothes, along with his satchel.
She returned to Mick’s side, eased his arm around her shoulders, and helped him to his feet, but she sensed what it cost him. Mick leaned on her heavily and his breath rasped in his chest, each inhalation clearly paining him.
With heavy plodding steps they approached the chair to which Liliana was strapped, but as they neared the figure in the shadows, fear increased with every step.
The large amount of blood behind the chair became a
pparent as did the awkward angle of the person’s head.
But as they took another step, they stopped short, realizing the person was much larger than Liliana and was wearing a dark khaki shirt with olive green pants.
“It’s a park ranger. She’s not here,” Caterina said, glancing up at Mick only to see the despair nearly overcome him before he controlled his emotions.
“She’s here. I know it. He’d want to keep her close,” he answered and applied light pressure on her arm to guide her in the direction from where Santiago had emerged.
“To use her as bait again?” she asked and worried at the way he leaned on her, barely able to remain upright.
“He’d . . . want . . . play . . . with her.” It was a sacrifice for him to speak and with each word came a fearsome rattle from deep in his chest.
Caterina didn’t ask anymore, providing him with the strength he needed to take each painful step down the hall until they came to another rusted door.
Mick leaned against the wall heavily and took out his gun. His hand shook as he did so and as their gazes met, Caterina understood.
“Let me have it. I promise not to miss this time,” she said.
He didn’t argue, handing the Glock to her.
Caterina approached the entrance. It was ajar and a spill of low light fell into the tunnel. Gingerly she opened the rusty door which creaked with the movement.
She waited, thinking the noise might have given away her presence, but nothing happened.
Pushing the door wider, she copied what she had seen Mick do earlier, staying low as she peered within to scope out the room.
In the center, someone was strapped to a chair, head of dark hair slumped down toward their chest. Fear crept within her and as it did so, the strange halo sight took over, outlining the figure in the chair with an aura and filling it with colors – the colors of warmth and life, she realized.
As she glanced all around the room, she realized no one else was there and entered, the halo sight receding as she did so.
“Liliana?” she asked as she approached and the person’s head popped up.
A mumbled sound escaped the person and Caterina took another step closer and realized that this time it was Mick’s sister.
Caterina rushed over and kneeled before her. Carefully removed the duct tape over Liliana’s mouth. She tried to avoid the sight of Liliana’s naked breasts and the bruises on her face as she said, “Are you okay?”
“Never better if you and Mick are here,” Liliana said and glanced toward the door, as if expecting her brother to enter.
“He’s hurt bad,” Caterina advised and looked around for some way to cut the tape binding Liliana to the chair. A short distance away a long knife rested by the door. She grabbed it and made short work of the bindings.
Liliana rose stiffly and tied her shirt front together, trying to hide her condition. While she did so, she asked, “What happened?”
“A park ranger is dead along with Mad Dog and another of the gene therapy patients.” As Caterina spoke, she urged Liliana to follow her and they hurried back to Mick’s side.
As they rushed through the door, they spotted Mick slumped against the wall. His labored breathing was louder than before and a sickly pallor had replaced the healthy tones of his skin.
Liliana kneeled before her brother and gently eased his head up. He opened his eyes and looked at her, but Caterina could see his gaze was unfocused.
“You’re safe,” he said and coughed, bringing up rich red blood.
Liliana nodded and gently swiped away the blood along the side of his mouth. “I’m okay and you’re going to be okay as well, Mick.”
Together they helped him to his feet, but as her gaze crossed Liliana’s, Caterina realized how concerned Mick’s sister was about Mick’s injuries.
Carefully they picked their way back, avoiding the pit of the missile silo. Gingerly walking over the trip wire.
From some distance away, Mick instructed Caterina on how to trip the booby trap to protect anyone who might enter the tunnel. The small explosion that followed brought down part of the tunnel wall and would have trapped them beneath the debris if they had tripped it on the way in.
With the area safe, they moved as quickly as they could back toward the Wrangler and laid Mick in the small jump seat area, Liliana kneeling beside him.
Caterina took the wheel, aware that she had to get him medical help.
* * *
Liliana braced Mick’s body against hers in the back of the vehicle, trying to keep him steady. She was certain he had broken a rib or two and possibly punctured a lung. She wanted to avoid doing any more damage by the errant motion of the SUV. He seemed weaker with each passing moment, but he held onto consciousness somehow as Caterina drove up onto the nearby public road, obviously aware that Mick couldn’t handle a jostling ride along the surf’s edge.
“Hold on, Mick. We’ll get you help soon,” Liliana said, feeling his pain as if it were her own. Aware that he had once again sacrificed himself for her.
* * *
“I’m . . . okay,” Mick said, registering the mixture of guilt and concern in his sister’s voice. Not wanting her to feel responsible for what had happened.
But even on the smoother public road, every movement brought pain.
Mick gritted his teeth to contain the agony. His broken ribs were grating together with every bump. His labored breath and the blood he coughed up once again confirmed to him that one of his ribs had damaged his lung. His ears were ringing and he realized he had a concussion, maybe even a skull fracture.
I'm done for sure, Mick thought as he fumbled to extract his cell phone from his pocket. Somehow he managed to hand it to Liliana as his fingers slowly went numb. His extremities were cold from shock and the blood filling his lung, drowning him, and making each breath laborious.
But the mission was also done. And it had been a success because both Caterina and Liliana were safe.
“I’m going home,” Mick said to his sister, satisfied that he had completed the mission he had been meant to do. Feeling freer than he ever had as he allowed himself to slip into the darkness calling him.
* * *
Liliana watched helplessly as Mick lost consciousness. Tears complicated making the phone call, obscuring her vision, but she somehow speed-dialed Ramon. Fighting back the tears, she explained where to find Mad Dog and the others.
“Where are you now?” Ramon asked.
“Hartshorne. Heading to the Highlands,” she said and shot a glance at Caterina as she drove.
“I’m going to give you directions to the hospital,” Liliana yelled to Caterina against the road noise as she took a quick look at her brother before returning her attention to Ramon.
“Meet us there, Ramon. But I need a promise from you.”
Her cousin hesitated. “I can’t make any promises, Lil. Bring them in and we’ll figure out what to do.”
She shot another glance at Caterina, who seemed to have overheard a snippet of the conversation.
“I don’t care who’s looking for me. We’re going to the hospital,” Caterina shouted back over the din from the wind whipping into the open vehicle.
Somehow Liliana had never had a doubt that’s what Caterina would say because Caterina loved Mick. Liliana had never been more certain of anything else in her life.
“We’re on our way, Ramon,” she said, hung up the phone and took Mick’s limp hand in hers, praying that it wasn’t too late.
Liliana had no doubt her bother cared for Caterina as well and hoped the two of them would have time to be able to share that love.
Sins of the Flesh: Chapter Forty
A steady throb behind his eyeballs kept pace with the repetitive electronic beep nearby.
Mick cracked open his eyes and a gentle familiar touch on his hand told him he was not alone.
“Cat?” he asked and suddenly she was standing above him, her beautiful face filling his vision.
“I’m he
re, Mick,” Caterina said and he tried to smile, but his lips were dry and pulled with the motion.
She quickly offered up some ice chips to wet his lips and parched throat.
“Thank you.” Turning his head, he realized he was in a hospital bed with an assortment of tubes and wires attached to him.
He tried to move, but his body was stiff and painful. Wincing, he asked, “How long have I been here?”
“A little over a day, love,” she said and offered him some more ice chips, but he shook his head, which only created an intense well of pain in the middle of his skull.
“Easy, Mick. You have a hairline skull fracture and concussion. Several broken ribs and a punctured lung. You almost didn’t make it.”
He should have been thankful that’s all it was because he remembered feeling as if a Mack truck had run him down. But the pain of that blow was mitigated by the knowledge that he had found his sister.
“Liliana,” he said, not realizing he had said it out loud until Caterina replied.
“She had to leave a few hours ago to do her rounds, but she’ll be back.”
“How are you?” he asked and closed his eyes, the light in the room too bright to his concussion-sensitized sight.
Caterina ran a cool hand across the side of his face and said, “I’m fine. When we brought you to the hospital your cousin Ramon was waiting for us. I explained what happened.”
“He called in the Feds,” Mick jumped in, recalling the dead park ranger.
“As well as the local and Camden PDs,” he heard and opened his eyes to see Ramon strolling in, wearing his summer khakis, his sheriff’s hat in hand.
Ramon came to stand by the railing of his bed and shot a smile at Caterina. “Glad to see you decided to join us.”
“What’s going on?” he asked his cousin.
Ramon’s lips tightened into a thin line before he said, “Feds are coordinating with the locals since it seems the MO for the park ranger’s murder is the same as for Wells. There’s also a DNA match to the goon you plugged between the eyes.”
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