She placed the note on the bed, along with a blank piece of paper and pen. Leaving the room door unlocked, she slipped into the second room directly across the hall.
Layla spent most of that night pacing, stopping every so often to press her face to the peephole in the door, scanning the hallway for any signs of life. Jumpy, she ended up taking a blanket from the bed and huddling in front of the door, springing up to look out of the peephole every time she heard footsteps passing by.
She slept in little fits, dozing off to startle awake, her mind filled with terrible images. Teddy’s face loomed over hers, morphing first into a bleeding Calvin and then a grinning Senator Blackwell. When the morning light illuminated her room she got up and started pacing again.
She couldn’t stop thinking about Ramon, and her eyes filled with tears when she remembered him on their last morning together. Their final moments already seemed like such a long time ago, like something that had happened to someone else. She hugged herself tightly, trying to remember and forget all at the same time.
Her stomach growled out a protest but she ignored it, standing with her eye pressed to the keyhole. She twisted the watch on her wrist, checking it repeatedly. It was getting closer to the time she expected them to arrive, and her anxiously mounted, making it impossible for her to sit still.
She watched the second hand tick out the minutes, and time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Finally, heavy footsteps plodded down the corridor, and she looked out the peephole to see two men go straight for the door across the hall. They knocked, waiting a few seconds before trying the knob. When the door creaked open they exchanged a glance, and one of them reached into his waistband while the other kicked the door open wide. They stormed inside and the door slammed shut behind them.
Layla waited for what seemed like an eternity, her heart pounding in her throat. The door finally opened, and she watched the two men leave, spewing clouds of anger and bitter green frustration. She tied a scarf around her head and ducked out the door, sidling down the empty hallway to make sure that the elevator was really descending. She rushed back to the room they’d just vacated, finding the note she’d written balled up and tossed onto the floor, with no reply to her demand anywhere in sight.
What did it mean? Did they leave to get Cali and Michael, or were they going to do something much, much, worse. Had she overplayed her hand?
Seized by a sudden panic, Layla raced across the hall to get her purse and keys and ran, flying down the stairs and arriving in the lobby just in time to see the two men walk out of the front entrance, heading for the parking lot. Slowly, stealthily, she trailed behind them, careful to keep several rows of cars between them. When she saw them get into a vehicle she raced for her rental car, peeling out after them with a screech of tires.
She gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, praying that she hadn’t miscalculated, hoping that the men would lead her to Cali and Michael.
She had no idea what she would do once she found them.
~
Professor Reed didn’t sleep at all that night, tossing and turning in bed as he weighed his options. These men were the worst sort of people he’d ever encountered, and the casual way Frankie had decided to eliminate Caledonia left no doubt in professor Reed’s mind that Layla would eventually wear out her usefulness as well.
He couldn’t allow his entire life’s work to be destroyed by these cretins.
Dawn’s early light illuminated his room, and a sound outside drew his attention. He went to the window to look down. A man was digging a hole in the ground, a roll of plastic and several bags of powdered lime standing ready nearby. The sight knocked the wind out of the old man, and he staggered back a few steps to sit on the edge of the bed.
His jaw set with grim determination, Professor Reed stood and began to dress himself methodically. He put on his finest suit, taking time to don golden cufflinks and affix the perfect Windsor knot in his silk tie. He slipped his feet into a pair of polished Italian dress shoes with a shining silver shoehorn.
He worked to the relentless sound of the shovel biting into the earth, followed by the soft thud of dirt hitting the ground.
When he descended the stairs he found a morning-after scene worthy of any frat party. Overflowing ashtrays and half empty glasses littered every surface, and men were sprawled where they had passed out, draped over chairs and snoring away on the couches. The professor picked his way through the mess, going out the back door to stand next to the man digging the hole.
Summoning his most conversational tone, he asked, “Isn’t this a little close to the house?”
The man looked up with bleary eyes, leaning against his shovel to catch his breath. “Too many roots under the trees,” he panted.
He went back to digging while Professor Reed strolled around the hole casually. He nudged the man’s discarded jacket with his shoe, locating the pocket that held the keys.
“Joey … right?” the professor asked, gesturing to another patch of freshly disturbed earth in the nearby ground. “Have you done this before?”
Hung over and irritable, the man snapped, “You wanna do the digging?”
“Carry on,” Professor Reed nodded crisply.
When the man went back to his shoveling the professor pretended to drop his reading glasses and quietly snatched up the keys. He backed away, walking slowly into the cabin and through the sleeping men, pausing to pick up a gun that lay unattended on the dining room table. He crept down the hallway silently, and gingerly unlocked the multiple locks on the door to the dungeon with shaking hands.
He slipped down the stairs and into the cold, dank room to find Caledonia and Michael huddled together in the corner. Her head was resting on his shoulder, her face angelic in sleep. Michael looked terrible, his eyes sunken, his face even paler than usual.
For a moment he thought he was too late, but Michael’s chest rose with a shallow breath. The professor edged closer, shocked by the sight of the bloody rags tied onto Michael’s missing finger.
“What have they done to you?” he gasped.
Michael opened one eye. “What do you want?” he croaked, waking Caledonia up. She scrambled to her feet, looking behind the professor for the men that were not there.
“Shhh,” Professor Reed whispered, his finger to his lips. “I’m here to set you free.”
“What?” Michael asked, struggling to sit up.
The old man looked over his shoulder towards the stairs, keeping his voice low, “You have to hurry. You must go and find Layla, and stop her from turning herself over to these people.”
Michael was suspicious. “Why would you help us now?”
His shoulders slumped with the acknowledgement of his final defeat. “Because they’re going to end up killing us all.”
“We know that,” Caledonia said.
“I didn’t … I didn’t realize how bad they were …” his voice trailed off.
“Why should we trust you?” Michael sneered.
The professor turned to Caledonia. “Something went wrong with the robbery. They killed the man’s nephew. They planted a body at the scene to try and throw him off, but now Frankie’s planning on getting rid of you to cover his tracks.”
Michael scowled, interjecting, “He’s probably just trying to trick us into leading you to Layla. He was the one who sold her out in the first place.”
“No,” Professor Reed shook his head, pleading with Caledonia, “I believed that they would help me in exchange for your … services, but I was wrong. Now I must see to it that you get away from them. It’s imperative that you and Layla survive.”
“Cali?” Michael looked to her for confirmation.
She nodded. “He’s telling the truth.”
Whatever the professor’s reasons for sparing her life, Caledonia could see that he spoke with conviction; his fear and urgency filled the room with their brilliance. She rushed to help Michael to his feet, taking him by the arm and pulling him towards the stairs.
<
br /> “C’mon. Let’s get out of here,” she urged.
Cali turned back to the professor. “Where are they now?”
“Most of them are sleeping but there’s one out back, digging.”
When their eyes met there was no need to ask what for. Caledonia didn’t waste a second, bounding up the stairs as silently as a cat. When she got to the top she creaked the door open, tiptoed down the hall and scanned the room. She counted four slack-jawed men sprawled out on the leather couches and recliners, and she motioned for Michael and Professor Reed to follow her.
The three of them entered the room, edging towards the front door at the exact instant a black sedan pulled up. Another man climbed out and headed straight for them balancing a tray full of coffees atop a pink bakery box.
“Go out the back!” Professor Reed whispered, but by the time they’d wheeled around one of the men had stirred, and was sitting up blinking.
“Hey!” he cried out, his voice rough, “What the hell is going on?”
Caledonia pulled her cousin along as she rushed towards the back door, but they were jerked to a halt when a man lunged over the back of the couch and grabbed Michael’s arm.
“Let him go!” Professor Reed bellowed, holding the gun inches from the man’s head. “Or I’ll shoot you dead!”
The man on the couch looked up, and his bloodshot eyes flew open wide when he saw the old man holding a gun in his quaking hands. He released Michael’s arm, looking around to his awakening friends for backup. The professor positioned himself in front of Caledonia and Michael, waving the gun at all of the now fully roused group, who were joined by a fifth man when the front door swung open.
“Back away or I’ll shoot!” he cried.
One by one the men drew their guns. “You can’t kill us all, old man,” one of them said.
The professor turned his head sideways, keeping his eyes and his gun trained on the men. “Run,” he said to Cali and Michael. “Find her.”
Caledonia propelled Michael through the back door, sprinting past a man standing in a hole bearing a shovel. She dragged Michael into the wilderness behind the house and disappeared into the dense brush, on her own turf at last.
As the two of them entered the shadowy woods they could hear the professor’s voice, high and thin, intoning, “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better–”
The rest of his words were drowned out in a barrage of gunfire.
~
Chapter Eight
CHASE
~
Frankie came rushing down the stairs, his gun drawn. One of his men was lying on the ground gasping, shallow breaths bubbling and rattling in his chest. Professor Reed’s body was sprawled in front of the back door, his eyes wide and blank in death, his fine suit riddled with bullet holes.
“What the hell happened?” Frankie screamed at the four remaining men, who stood frozen in a haze of gun smoke.
“He shot first!” one of them pointed to the professor’s corpse. They all rushed to explain, each one protesting that he wasn’t at fault. When Frankie realized that Caledonia and Michael had escaped he was livid. “What the hell are you waiting for?” he screamed, “Quit babbling and go get them! Bring them both back NOW!”
The men all tried to be the first out the door, stumbling over Professor Reed’s corpse to pour outside. The gravedigger was still standing in his hole, and he wordlessly pointed towards the bushes that Cali and Michael had disappeared into only moments before. Slack jawed, he watched the four men go crashing into the woods, finally gathering his wits and putting his shovel down. When he climbed out of the hole he came face to face with a boiling mad Frankie.
“You moron!” the little man screeched, the cords in his neck straining with the effort. “You were supposed to get rid of her!”
He took a step back, nearly losing his balance. “I–I don’t know nothing … I been out here digging all morning.”
Frankie’s phone rang, and he answered it, his jaw clenched with anger. “What?” His face reddened and he started pacing as the man on the other end of the line read him Layla’s note. When he spoke his voice rose an octave, “She thinks she can bargain with ME?” He took a deep breath, rubbing his temples. “Look. I have a situation at the house. Get back here right now and we’ll deal with her later.”
Frankie stormed inside the cabin, looking at the two bodies on the floor with disgust. He turned back to the dirt-covered man trailing him inside. “Put them both in the hole and clean this place up,” he barked.
“Sure Boss.” The man took the professor’s carcass by the ankles, dragging him outside and rolling him unceremoniously into the dirt. When he came back to retrieve the second man he drew back in shock. “Frankie! He’s still breathing!”
Frankie heaved a long-suffering sigh. He went to the couch to pick up a pillow, bending down to place it over the man’s head. He pulled out his pistol and fired one shot into it.
“Not anymore,” he said, straightening up and tucking his gun away.
Frankie’s walked over to the table, shaking his head with disgust. He’d already planned on eliminating most of his crew once the job was done, but this was not how he expected it to go down. He pulled out a chair and sat down heavily, wondering what his Ma would have to say if she saw the mess these dolts had made of everything.
He picked up a coffee and peeled off the lid, opening several little packets to mix in his cream and sugar with fastidious care. He opened the bakery box, pulling out a powdered donut, glancing up to see Joey staring at him in stunned disbelief. The stupid look on the big oaf’s face irritated Frankie even more than he already was.
“Get moving!” he yelled at the much bigger man, making him flinch.
Frankie drummed his fingers on the table, sipping his coffee and considering the trouble he was in. Don Miguel was not the kind of man you wanted to cross, and that little broad knew enough to destroy everything he’d been working for. He crossed himself, praying that the same blundering fools that had allowed her to escape would be capable of bringing her back.
He had been grooming this crew for weeks, providing them with cheap women and expensive booze, tempting them with glowing tales of how rich he’d make them all. Frankie intentionally sought out men who’d be loyal enough to do his bidding and yet foolish enough to trust him without question, and now their stupidity was threatening to cost him everything. He watched as Joey snapped out of his stupor and dragged his fellow dimwit out the door.
“Dammit,” Frankie muttered, looking forward to being finished with all of them for good. If he could only pull off one last big score and he’d have enough dough to leave the country and buy that seaside villa in the old country that his Ma always dreamed of. There would be no more fools to contend with, and no more crooked politicians for him to ride herd on. He deserved to retire in peace.
Goddamned redhead, he thought. He still needed her brother to keep her in line, and without the professor around to advise him Frankie had a feeling that he might have bitten off more than he could chew. He had a big job in mind for the girl, and then he planned on selling her to Senator Blackwell before leaving town for good. Now he had to waste valuable time chasing down the blonde, and those idiots damn well better be able to catch up with her.
He glanced to where the safe was hidden, feeling better when he thought about the stacks of cash waiting inside. There was plenty of money to go around, but if any of the men working for him had a chance to ask Frankie’s Ma, she could have told them.
Frankie didn’t like to share.
~
Ramon and Mina arrived at the airport very late that night. They used Mina’s FBI connections to locate the flight that Layla had arrived on, questioning the airport employees methodically. They asked anyone who was on duty at the time if they remembered seeing anything unusual at all, but got nowhere.
Mina suggested that they grab some coffee and a bite to eat while they waited to question the
taxis and shuttle drivers that started their morning shifts as the sun peeked over the horizon. Not one of them could remember seeing a redheaded girl, either alone or with a group.
“They must have taken her from here,” Ramon slumped with fatigue and frustration.
Mina surveilled the scene with an expert eye. “If they took her from the terminal it’ll be caught on one of these cameras, but I can’t access that footage without a Homeland Security clearance. I’d have to file an official request.”
Ramon looked around one last time, weighing his options. He wanted to honor Layla’s wishes to keep the police out of it, but involving the authorities might be their only hope. His eyes finally landed on a billboard. “What about a rental car?” he asked.
“We can try,” Mina said.
They hit pay-dirt at the first agency they checked.
“Is this the one?” Ramon asked, holding up his phone to show the clerk a picture of a smiling redhead.
The man behind the desk nodded. “Yeah, that’s her. Real sweet girl. She rented a silver Chevy. Wanted to know how to get to the Hyatt.”
Ramon and Mina didn’t waste any time, pulling up at the hotel and trolling the parking area in search of the rental car. They rolled through row by row slowly and methodically, carefully checking every silver car they passed. Ramon’s eyes were down, scanning the license plates when Mina looked up and spotted something.
“Isn’t that her?” she asked, pointing to a girl scurrying out of the lobby, intent on following a pair of men into the parking lot.
An oversized pair of dark glasses dwarfed her delicate features, and a scarf tied around her hair did little to conceal her bright red tresses. She could have had a bag over her head and Ramon would have known her by her walk.
“Layla!” he cried, his heart pounding. He reached for the door, ready to spring out and scoop her into his arms. Mina grabbed his wrist, stopping him.
“Hold on. What is she up to?”
Mina swung back around the lot while Ramon watched Layla with his heart in his throat. She kept her head down and pretended to be digging in her purse, shadowing the two men until she saw them get into a black sedan. Then she dashed to the back of the parking lot and jumped into her silver rental car, pealing out with a screech as she raced to catch up with them.
The Redcastle Redemption (The Athena Effect) Page 7
