by Tami Kidd
“Sophie, cut the light,” Opie whispered. “Everyone take cover behind something solid. I think I see someone in the bushes.”
Mara’s heart skipped a beat as she took cover behind a powder-blue Queen Anne chair.
Dodger’s forehead wrinkled when he asked, “How well do you think that chair is going to stop bullets?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never been in a shootout before, so this is kind of new for me.”
Leaving his post, he gestured for her to follow. “Come on.” He led her into the dining room that adjoined the living area. A square oak table sat in the center of the room. He removed a glass vase and sat it on the matching hutch. He motioned for Mara to help him flip the table on its side. They squatted behind it, catching their breath after the heavy lifting.
“I think this will stop bullets better than the chair,” he said.
Mara heard glass shatter. She rose to look over the edge of the table. What she saw made her blood run cold.
Nineteen
Too paralyzed to move, Mara watched the man writhe on the floor. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from the blood pooling around him. Opie’s naturally pale face looked bloodless. The shot had thrown him back into the center of the living room from the window where he stood. Michael and Sophie ran to his side. Their host grabbed a blanket and pressed it to Opie’s chest. Mara wanted to run to his side and help in whatever way she could, but her body froze, her eyes fixated on the horrific scene. What happened to the tranquil beach she imagined earlier during her session with Sophie? She preferred—craved—the fantastical hypnotic state to the nightmarish one she now witnessed.
“Hang in there, Op. We’ll get you help,” Michael said. He glanced up at Mara.
The pool of blood next to Opie widened. He tried to speak but blood spewed from his lips with each syllable.
“Here, let me see.” Michael moved Sophie’s hands away from the wound. He gingerly lifted the blood-soaked blanket and swore under his breath. Michael’s pained expression confirmed their comrade’s condition was serious.
Simultaneously, an explosion of men crashed through the front door and the door leading from the kitchen. Orders erupted from both directions.
“Drop your weapons! Get down. Hands on your head.” Masked intruders dressed in black, armed with automatic weapons, targeted each person in the room. When Mara and the rest of the group complied with their demands, a man walked from the kitchen straight to Mara.
“There you are,” he said pointing his gun at her head.
Mara felt the blood drain from her face. If she hadn’t been on the floor already, she probably would have collapsed. She stared at a small clock on the table across the room. The second hand advanced slowly from dot to dot. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.
“We have a man down,” Michael said. “He needs medical attention. Please, let us get him help.”
Mara heard Michael’s muffled voice as if she were inside a tunnel; she turned her head to focus on the agent.
The leader, who still held his gun to her head, looked at Opie through his mask. He shook his head. “He doesn’t need any help. Not now.”
Mara averted her gaze to Opie. His lifeless eyes stared at the ceiling. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.
The leader motioned to the man on his left. “Secure the prisoners. Get them on their feet.”
“Yes, sir.” Two of the assailants hustled to each person, pulled them to their feet, and secured their wrists with zip cords.
Mara heard the unmistakable whoop, whoop, whoop of a helicopter outside.
The leader ordered his team to herd the prisoners out through the kitchen and to Sophie’s backyard. At least fifty square yards wide, it provided enough room for the helicopter to land. Once on the ground, three gunmen escorted Mara, Dodger, and Sophie to the waiting Black Hawk. The guards deftly guided them into a crouch to avoid the rotor blades.
Strapped in and secured, they waited several minutes. Mara watched as two men hauled Michael’s limp body from the house. Beaten and bloodied, they strapped him in a seat. The guards then took a seat, one between each hostage. They wore masks that revealed only cold inhuman eyes. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.
They rode without saying a word, the noise of the helicopter making conversation impossible. Mara looked at her friends, each of their faces revealed a unique expression. Fear painted Dodger’s face, while confusion covered Sophie’s. Mara turned her head and looked passed the guard seated between her and Michael. Anger seethed from his swollen eyes. She lowered her head and squeezed her eyes tight. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.
Mara’s stomach lurched as the chopper banked and began to descend. She opened her eyes and leaned toward the window. The pulsing red reflection of her own face stared back. Below, a sea of darkness offered no clues to their location.
The four guards rose, grabbed the captives, and held them immobile. The vice-like grip holding Mara made it impossible to pull away. Then in a perfectly synchronized move, each guard pulled a syringe from their pockets and injected a needle into the hostages. They all tried to fight the attack, without luck.
Mara winced at the sharp prick. Warmth spread from her elbow to her shoulder. Even her fingers went numb. Despite trying hard to focus, everything became fuzzy and muted. Her eyelids began to flutter and grew heavy. Then a deep menacing voice resonated inside her head. “There you are.” Losing her struggle to stay conscious, Mara felt her chin fall to her chest. Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.
Twenty
Somewhere between Hot Springs and Pensacola, Alex’s captors stopped at a convenience store outside Jackson, Mississippi, for gas and snacks. Doyle went inside while Kale remained in the van.
“You seem like a reasonably intelligent guy,” Alex said. “Why are you helping this guy commit a felony?”
“Doyle’s my friend. I help my friends when they need it,” Kale said.
“I understand, but there’s a difference between helping a friend and helping a friend commit a felony. I know Doyle did time in prison. I’m thinking this is where you two became buddies. If you get caught, you will go back. Is that what you want?”
“Hell no, I don’t want to go back to prison. But I trust Doyle to handle things in a way that there’s no chance we’ll get caught.”
“Look, I like you, and I don’t want you to get hurt. Why don’t you hop into the driver’s side and drive this eye sore away? Take me to the nearest police station and drop me off. I won’t implicate you in any way. How about it?”
“Forget it. I know Doyle seems like a lowlife SOB who doesn’t care about anyone except himself, but let me tell you this, I owe him my life. He defended me and supported me when I needed someone on my side. Doyle is loyal. I’d do anything for him. When my grandmother in Hawaii needed help, he contributed every cent he could spare to help her out. He’d give me the shirt off his back. I’m not double-crossing him. And because you seem like a nice guy, I won’t tell him what you suggested.” Kale turned back to face the front.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or test your loyalty. I’m really worried about my fiancé. I have to find her, and I can’t if I’m stuck here.” Alex shifted his weight to relieve some of the pressure on his shoulder and winced. “Look, can you at least cut me loose? My arms are numb and my shoulders are killing me.”
Kale turned around with concern in his eyes. “I don’t know. Doyle would get mad at me.”
“Please. If Doyle’s mad when he comes back, you can put them back on. At least give me a few minutes of relief.”
Kale reached inside his pants pocket and pulled out a small knife. “Fine, but if Doyle says the word, we put ’em back on.” Kale opened the knife to reveal the blade.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. I promise I won’t try anything stupid.” Alex watched the surprised expression cover Kale’s face, as if his remark sparked a new revelation.
“You better not.”
“Promise. Cross my heart.”
Kale motion
ed for Alex to turn around so he could reach his hands. He slipped the knife between Alex’s wrists and cut the ties in one swift slice. “Better?”
“Oh man, that’s a relief,” Alex said rubbing his wrist and rolling his shoulders. He smiled as the beneficial pain reenergized his muscles after being immobile for so long. He stretched his fingers to alleviate the tingling and get the blood flowing again. Then Alex straightened to get a better look out the front window. Nightfall, but the lights around the convenience store made it look as if it were a bright, sunny day. “How far are we from Pensacola?”
“Doyle said we’re a little over halfway.”
Alex spied his cell phone still lying on the console next to Doyle’s phone. It had gone off a few times. Alex wanted to see who called but didn’t dare ask Kale for another favor. A revving engine startled him from his thoughts.
From what Alex could see, a red convertible filled with college-aged girls pulled to the pump on Kale’s side. Sensing an opportunity, Alex derived a plan. “Boy, those girls are hot,” he said.
Kale turned to look. A girl with long tan legs wearing bright-yellow short shorts got out from the driver’s side. She smiled at Kale, who smiled back and gave her a little wave. He lowered his window to strike up a conversation.
With Kale distracted by her flirting, Alex snatched his phone in one swift motion. He quickly turned off the sound, opened the message window, and sent a text to Noah. The text stated the following: Taken hostage by Doyle Fisher and a friend. In route to Pensacola. White Ford van with large green lightning bolt on side. I’m fine.
Alex hit send and without a sound, placed the phone back on the console.
The corvette pulled away. Kale waved goodbye. After the vehicle was out of sight, he turned to Alex and said, “I shouldn’t be flirting with those girls. I have nieces their age.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much. You were just being friendly. Besides, they flirted with you first.”
“Still, I should have more self-control.” Kale turned his head toward the driver’s door when it opened.
Doyle hefted himself inside with two bags of food. “They had a hot food counter in there, so I bought some burgers and fries. Plus, I got us some granola bars, trail mix, and candy.” Doyle turned to look at Alex. “What the hell is this? Why are his hands free?”
“I cut him loose. He was in a lot of pain and promised to be good.”
“Oh, well if he promised then I guess it’s okay.”
“I can tie him back up.”
“Do it later. Let him eat a burger first.” He squinted at Alex. “But, if you cause any problems, we put the restraints back on. Got it?”
“I understand. I won’t cause you any problems,” Alex promised.
Doyle handed Kale the bags of food. “Distribute these. I have to get us back on the road.”
“Okay.” Kale gathered and put the phones inside the glove box. He placed the burgers and fries for him and Doyle on the console and then handed Alex his meal.
Alex took it, removed the wrapper from the burger, and scrutinized it, unsure how safe a convenience store burger might be. Too hungry to care, he took a bite and chewed slowly. Not too bad. Popping a couple fries into his mouth, he moaned. Now, those are some good fries. Nice and crisp on the outside and meaty on the inside with the perfect amount of salt, unlike those fried matchsticks with copious amounts of salt some fast-food places serve.
No one spoke a word, all quiet except for the sounds of tires humming over the road, rustling of paper, and munching.
“Hey, Alex, why don’t you pass us a couple bottles of water?” Doyle asked. “I got to wash this food down with something.”
Alex took two water bottles out of the case and handed them to Kale.
“So, Doyle, what’s going to happen when we get to Pensacola?” Alex asked.
“I’m not sure exactly. I’m supposed to call for more instructions when we get into Florida.”
Alex let out a sigh. “So, Doyle, why were you on that plane with Mara? Why were you using an alias?”
Doyle’s eyes cut to Alex’s face in the rearview mirror. Driving with his left hand while holding the burger in his right, he set the burger down on the console and grabbed a few fries. After chewing and then swallowing, he said, “Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter now, but I was hired to be on the plane to watch your girl. Until that guy in the suit showed up, I had it all under control.”
Alex nodded slowly. He suspected as much. But hearing it from Doyle’s mouth lit a fire deep inside him. Rage erupted, and he was having a difficult time keeping it under control. He wrapped the remaining burger and threw it in the bag with vigor.
“I was surprised you found me so easily, after using an alias,” Doyle said.
“It wasn’t that hard,” Alex said, biting each word.
Doyle looked in the mirror again at Alex. His eyebrows rose a fraction. “I wasn’t going to hurt your lady. I promise. I was just hired to watch her, and after she landed in Little Rock, I was supposed to make a phone call. That’s all.”
“Yeah, but you had no idea what would happen to her after that.”
“You’re right, but whatever they had planned fell through, because she never made it to Little Rock. When you came to my house, I saw an opportunity to redeem myself. My contact wasn’t very happy with me for losing her. He told me to bring you to Pensacola to redeem myself. So that’s the plan. End of story.”
“Who’s your contact?”
“I don’t know. He never gave me his name.”
“How do you know him?”
“Just outta the blue, he called me one day and asked me if I wanted to make some dough. You may as well stop asking questions now. I’m not telling you anything else.”
Alex flung the trash bag across the van as hard as he could. It bounced back into his lap. “You don’t understand, you sorry piece of shit. You have no idea what you’ve done, what you’ve involved yourself in, or what you’ve done to Mara. You’ve signed your death warrant. These people don’t play around.”
Doyle’s face went slack. “What do you mean?”
Alex sat back against the side of the van and didn’t say another word. Finally, he turned his head toward Doyle. “Brother, we’re in for some bad shit.”
****
Alex tossed and turned on the van floor. Sleep evaded his troubled mind. With each passing mile, his heart quickened, because he knew Mara was closer than before. Heavy rainstorms pounded the van as they approached Hattiesburg and had not abated the farther south they drove. Without warning, Alex slammed into the side of the van as it jerked violently.
Kale jolted upright. “Hey, what was that all about?”
“Some crazy ass was in my lane!” Doyle sputtered.
“Listen Doyle, I know you’re on a timeline, but don’t you think it would be best if we pulled over somewhere for a spell, so you could get some rest and wait out the storm?” Alex asked as he rubbed his shoulder.
“I think he’s right. We should pull over.” Kale gently patted Doyle’s shoulder. “The rain’s coming down in sheets, it’s dark, and people out this late are either criminals or drunk.”
“Well, we’re not drunk, so I guess that makes us criminals, huh?”
“It doesn’t matter who’s out on the roads, they aren’t safe, and your boss isn’t going to be happy if you don’t get me there in one piece,” Alex said.
Doyle huffed. “Fine we’ll pull over somewhere, but for just an hour. The restraints are going back on. I’m not having you slit our throats in our sleep.”
Kale turned to steal a glimpse at Alex and frowned. “I really don’t think he’s the type to slit our throats. I think he’s more of a knock us out kind of guy. Less messy. Or maybe he’s the—”
“Shut up! You’re killing me. Just close your yap.”
“Sorry, I was just making an observation.”
“Do me a favor, stop observing.”
A few minutes later, they drove into
a little town. Looking through the front windshield at the downpour, Alex could see dark buildings and vacant streets. The amber streetlights reflecting off the wet streets gave it an eerie ghost-like appearance. Doyle turned into a little mom-and-pop grocery store that looked like it had been there since Jimmy Carter was president.
Pointing across the street at the used-car lot, Alex said, “Ah, you might want to pull in over there.”
“What’s wrong with this place?” Doyle asked.
“Nothing, unless you want to stick out like a sore thumb. At least over there you can park in a row of cars to blend in. Just in case a patrol car drives by.”
Silent for a moment, Doyle clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. “Well, for your information I was about to do just that.”
“Ah huh.” Pleased with himself, feeling smug, Alex smiled.
The van drove across the main drag into the used-car lot. Doyle parked between a red Dodge Durango and a blue Toyota Camry. He cut the lights first and then the engine.
“If you guys want to stretch out back here, I’ll keep watch,” Alex said.
“Yeah, like I’m going to let that happen.”
“What am I going to do? Make a run for it in a torrential rainstorm, in the middle of the night. The only thing I could do is knock you guys unconscious and take off in the van.”
“Exactly,” Doyle said with hubris.
Alex raised his hands in surrender. “Never mind. Sleep in your seats.” He stretched out on the van floor and turned to face the wall. “Goodnight.”
“I’m going back there,” Kale said, pointing toward the back.
“Go for it, and put the restraints back on him while you’re at it.”
Alex turned to watch Kale lumber his large body into the rear, fearing for his life if the big man tripped and fell on top of him.
After fastening another zip tie around Alex’s wrists, Kale settled down on the floor and said, “If I snore too loudly, feel free to punch me or whatever to get me to stop. I can get pretty loud at times, or so I’ve been told. I have jolted myself awake a few times. So, if you have to whack me, don’t feel bad. My doctor said if I’d lose a few pounds it might help, but that’s hard. You know? A man like me gets used to a regular diet and it’s hard to cut back. I refuse to use one of those C-CRAP breathing machines. But you don’t have to worry. You’re a slender man, not heavy, not skinny, just right.”
