by H. L. Wegley
“Hurry, Jeff. Please be careful. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
She squeezed him and let him go.
Please, God, keep Jeff safe. Keep Wes and Cliff safe, too.
The door closed and Allie stood alone in a dark, smoky room.
Jeff's house had been destroyed. Wes and Cliff might be dead, and they—Allie gasped when a beam of light split the darkness of the cellar.
The trap door by the garage creaked open.
A shadowy figure behind the flashlight inched forward through the door.
The light beam moved around the cellar until it hit Allie's body.
And it stopped.
Chapter 23
Jeff’s gaze swept the top of stairway. A fifteen-foot-wide hole in the ground-level floor stopped several feet from the stairs where flames burned near the top steps.
He sprinted the stairway. Halfway up, a step gave way. Jeff fell forward. His good arm caught his upper body inches before his face slammed into burning wood.
He stood and leaped past the flames.
Where had the running footsteps come from just before the RPG hit? It sounded like someone had sprinted toward the front door.
As Jeff skirted the hole in the ground-level floor, a siren sounded in the distance. Some kind of help was on the way. It may be too late.
He moved to the front door.
It had been blown off its hinges.
Jeff spotted the door out on the front lawn. About five feet from the doorway, a dark form lay sprawled across the sidewalk and onto the grass. It was a Wes-sized form.
Jeff rushed to him, knelt, and pressed his fingers against Wes's neck.
“Is that you, Cliff?”
The air in Jeff’s lungs blasted out his relief. “No. It's Jeff. Where do you hurt, Wes?”
“It'd be quicker to tell you where I don't hurt. Got hit by the blast and some shrapnel. There's a small light in my coat pocket, right side. I can move, but I'd like an accounting of the damage on this side before I roll over.”
Jeff fished out the light and locked it on. “You're bleeding some from your lower left leg, upper right leg too, and something creased your head. Wait a sec. Have you got a vest on?”
“Yeah.”
“Good thing. You took a couple of hits that ripped the back of your shirt, but they must've glanced off your vest.”
Wes rolled over. “Other side is okay. You don't have to check. I ran away from the rocket after Cliff yelled to warn me.”
“Where is Cliff?”
“Don't know. Figured you were Cliff.” Wes grunted as he sat up, then shoved a hand at Jeff. “Help me up. I have to find Cliff. I was trying to warn him about someone sprinting toward the house just before the rocket hit. “
Jeff pulled him to his feet. “You mean one of the cartel thugs might be here?”
More sirens sounded. They grew louder.
“That's what I thought I saw, a man running toward the house.”
“Allie.” Jeff turned toward the burning building. “She could be in danger.”
* * *
There was no greeting, no voice at all coming from the external door to the cellar. When the light hit her and stopped, Allie rolled out of it and leaped toward the basement.
The light moved off her body. Something clattered onto the cellar floor, followed by a muted curse in Spanish.
When she heard the telltale double-click of an assault rifle's charging handle, Allie leaped to her right and into the basement. She had placed a wall between her and the intruder.
Gunfire sounded. It's staccato popping went from loud to muted. Glass shattered, spraying the cellar walls.
In the basement, with every breath she sucked in pure smoke. Air unfit to breathe. Allie coughed and choked on it. Her lungs burned.
I've got to hold my breath.
She tried, but her racing heart and burning lungs demanded air.
The room was too smoky to see anything except the left side of the basement. It glowed red with flames. The heat scorched her bare skin.
She turned from the heat. Her head swam. The room spun and she fell hard onto the floor. Allie struggled to breathe but only sucked in more of the choking mixture. Now, despite the brightness of the fire, everything faded to gray.
She would rather have faced the bullets than a fire. But now it was too late, too late to say goodbye to Jeff. Too late for anything …
* * *
“You look for Cliff,” Jeff called back to Wes as his leg muscles exploded into action.
He sprinted to the corner of the house, then cut between the house and garage. When he reached the back corner of the garage, the dim lights of O'Brien painted the silhouette of a man with his back toward Jeff.
Jeff slowed, trying to run more softly.
His arms reached toward the shadowy figure.
The double-click of a weapon jolted Jeff. Was the man loading or clearing a jam?
Now, it didn’t matter.
Jeff’s good arm clamped like a vise on the man's throat.
The gun fired a long burst, first down into the cellar, then the gun barrel rose into the sky.
Jeff arched his back, pulling the man off his feet. Jeff whipped his hips as if throwing a discus and slammed the man to the ground.
The air rushed from the gunman's lungs.
Jeff retained his one-hand chokehold on the neck and squeezed hard until the man’s body went limp.
Someone ran toward Jeff from behind.
He grabbed the gun and whirled.
“No, Jeff!” Wes's voice.
Jeff grabbed the barrel and shoved the gun at Wes. “Here. I choked this one. But he could wake up any moment. Got to find Allie.”
Jeff whirled and stuck his head inside the cellar door. A flashlight lay on the floor.
He picked an open spot on the floor lit by the light and jumped down.
Jeff hit the floor and went to his knees. A sharp sting came from one knee, then the sticky warmth of blood running down his leg.
Broken glass crunched under his shoes when he moved toward the flashlight.
Jeff grabbed the light and turned a complete circle. Allie wasn't there.
Crouching low to the floor, he stepped into the smoke-filled basement.
The heat from the burning stairs forced him to turn away.
The smoke had become dense. It filled his lungs, choking him.
He dropped to the floor to avoid the smoke and bumped into a body. Allie.
He scooped her up and stumbled into the cellar, his tear-filled eyes stinging and his heart pounding out his panic.
She was right. He should never have left her alone.
Coughing, lungs on fire, Jeff staggered up the steps toward the external cellar door.
Hands reached out. Cliff's hands.
Jeff summoned the last of his strength to lift Allie up to Cliff, and collapsed on the steps gasping between hoarse barking coughs.
A hand found his. It pulled.
Jeff slid his feet under him and wobbled up the final two steps, alternately coughing and sucking deep breaths of fresher air.
Police cars now surrounded his house. The flashing red and blue lights tinted Allie's skin the frightening color of asphyxia.
She lay on the grass at Cliff's feet.
Jeff tilted her head back, took a deep breath, slid his mouth over hers, and blew.
Allie coughed. She wheezed, then coughed again. “Jeff… don't.” She sucked in more air. “Your breath … it's worse than the basement.”
On his knees beside Allie, he took several wheezing breaths. “I thought you weren't breathing. That you were unconscious.”
She sat up and put her arms around him.
Jeff picked her up in his arms, stood, and held her. “I thought I'd lost—”
“Shhh.” Allie put her fingers over his lips. “Almost.” She sucked in a raspy breath. “But not quite.”
Firemen surrounded them.
“They both
breathed a lot of smoke.” Cliff’s voice.
“You need to put her down.” One of the firemen tried to take Allie from him.
“No!” Jeff yelled much louder than he intended.
The fireman jumped back at Jeff's outburst. “
“Sorry about that.” He coughed. It lit a fire in his chest. “If you've got some oxygen, I think we could both use a little.”
From a fire truck parked in front of his house, hoses streamed water onto the building. The firemen led Jeff to the truck and pushed a mask at him.
Allie coughed and pressed a hand to her chest.
Jeff took the mask and placed it over her face.
She breathed deeply for several seconds, then pulled the mask off and pushed it over his mouth and nose.
After they had shared the mask for a few minutes, Allie raised her head “You would recover faster if you put me down. Besides, I need to check your wound.”
He set her on her feet and sucked more oxygen while she rolled up his T-shirt sleeve.
“It's bleeding again. Jeff, you shouldn't have done so much with—”
“Is there anything you would've wanted me not to do?”
Allie responded with a smile, a genuine, beautiful smile.
Half his house had been blown up. Whatever was left of it was burning. He had nearly been shot, and he had sucked in who knows how many toxic chemicals, but the woman he loved was alive.
Beyond that—he hadn’t a clue what they would do next.
* * *
Allie looked into Jeff's eyes, realizing he had saved her life again. If the man who’d found her running down that road had been any other man on the planet but Jeff Jacobs, she wouldn’t be alive. God had protected her, yet again. And He’d used this incredible man to do it.
Wes tapped Jeff on the shoulder.
Allie pushed Wes’s hand away. “Careful, Wes. Jeff’s wound needs attention. It's bleeding again.” She reached for his injured arm.
Wes glanced toward the garage, then looked back at Jeff. “I'll get the paramedic over here after he finishes the emergency trach on the dude you choked. He said he was a bit rusty. Doesn't have to do many tracheotomies. Jeff, where did you develop arm strength like that? With one arm you clamped so hard you crushed that guy's larynx.”
Jeff glanced toward the paramedic hovering over a body lying on a stretcher. “Couldn't think of a better person for him to practice on. I was, uh, training for the decathlon. Takes a lot of arm strength.”
Wes shook his head. “Arm strength, huh? You must've been pretty good.”
Allie stuck her head between the two men. “How could anybody doubt that after all he’s done?”
Wes frowned at her. “And you aren't biased, are you?”
Jeff looked down and shuffled his feet. He was obviously uncomfortable with this discussion.
She could help. “Wes, did you catch all the men responsible for this?” She swept her hand across the scene of destruction.
“We caught two.”
“So there could be more RPG's or gunshots?” Jeff asked.
“No. We're still trolling for a few more fish. But they're all running for their lives. With a little luck, we'll catch our limit by tonight. If we come home with a full stringer, Intel says you two and Allie's family might actually be safe. In the past, the cartel leader hasn't gotten involved in the low-level stuff. We think he'll just write off this operation as a loss and tell his people to move on to other places and other drugs.”
“That would be very good news for us and the people of O’Brien,” Jeff said.
Allie cupped Jeff's cheek with her hand. “I'm so sorry about your house.”
“It's only a house, Allie. The most important thing in it is safe, standing right in front of me.”
Events of the past hour and Jeff’s words welled in Allie’s heart and, now, tears welled in her eyes. They rolled down her cheeks and across her lips.
Intense emotions she had run far ahead of in her fight for life had finally caught up with her. Though she couldn't stop the salty tears, Allie smiled through them.
Jeff held her shoulders and studied her face. “Are you okay?”
“I'm certainly better than your house.”
“The house can be rebuilt.”
“But what about all your mother's things inside?”
“The pictures are divided between the bedroom and the study. Those rooms weren’t damaged by the fire. Anything else can be replaced.”
“Even her record collection?”
“It's at the end of the living room, down near the floor. It has a chance of surviving if the vinyl didn't get too hot. We'll check out the house tomorrow.”
“What about tonight?”
“It's too dark to look tonight.”
“No. I mean where are we going to stay tonight? And I'm back to only the clothes on my back.”
Cliff approached them coming from his vehicle parked on the street. “The DOJ will put you two up for tonight. The inn at Cave Junction has a three-bedroom suite we can have for a few nights.”
“We need to come back tomorrow to see what we can salvage, Allie's clothes, my computer, and some personal things.”
“We can do that first thing in the morning.” Cliff rubbed his chin and frowned. “Maybe we'll have those dudes all in custody and we can breathe a little easier.”
“Yeah. Allie and I will be praying that happens.”
“We will.” Allie sighed heavily. “I'm suddenly feeling exhausted.”
“Gee, I can't imagine why.” Jeff gave her a hug.
“When can you take us to our room, Cliff?”
“You mean to your rooms.” Wes's voice came from behind her. “Cliff, can you take them to the inn, then hold down the fort until I can spring free from here?”
Cliff motioned toward his car. “After you.”
As they walked to Cliff's car, Allie listened to the two men speaking softly behind her.
“You are a lucky man, Jeff Jacobs.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I do. Even if your house and everything in it is a total loss, you still have her.”
“The way I see it that makes me a rich man. But, Cliff, I almost lost her to the fire and the smoke.”
“But you didn't. Let's get you two tucked in for the night. It's nearly 1:00 a.m.”
Allie stopped beside Cliff's car. Tears flowed down her cheeks again, tears of joy.
Thank You for taking care of us this evening… all four of us.
Exhausted now, Allie leaned against Jeff’s arm.
He curled it around her. His other hand brushed away her tears, while her head rested on his shoulder.
Allie's eyes closed. “I'm so tired, Jeff.”
It seemed as if Jeff had picked her up.
As she surrendered to the gray fuzziness now claiming her consciousness, one thought lingered. The cartel hadn’t feared the marshals protecting her and Jeff. Her family could also testify against the cartel. Would they try to breach ICE detention in Medford to kill her family?
Chapter 24
Allie rolled over, stretched, and opened her eyes. She gasped. Was she in a log cabin? Vaguely, she recalled the mention of an inn at Cave Junction.
She reached over her shoulder to scratch her back, then gasped again.
Bare skin.
Allie's hands traced the contours of her body under the covers.
“I'm in my underwear.”
How she had gotten into this bed and who had removed what?
Three soft raps sounded on her door.
“Who is it?”
“It's Jeff. I need to talk to you. Are you decent?”
“That depends. Who, uh, tucked me in last night?”
“About that, I can explain, Allie.”
“Jeff, you didn't—you wouldn't—”
“No. The maid helped you. When she heard who you were, she was glad to help.”
Allie sighed and relaxed. “You can come in.”
<
br /> Jeff opened the door far enough to step in, closed it quietly behind him, and tiptoed to her bed.
She patted the bed and he sat. “I take it that Wes doesn't know where you are.”
“Nor Cliff.”
She gave him her best attempt at a smirk. “So what are you trying to do, sneaking into a defenseless woman's room when she's all alone?”
“I'm trying to tell you that Larry Wendell can see us this afternoon. His office is here in Cave Junction.”
“Does that mean he's done his research?”
“Yeah. And it sounded like he has some good news.”
“Oh, Jeff.” Allie wrapped her arms around him.
“Allie, you're not wearing—”
“Oh! Jeff, what do you think you're doing?” She jerked the blankets around her, pulling them up to her neck.
“It wasn't me who wasn't thinking. Speaking of thinking, I think I should leave now. If Wes had walked in here while you were—well, he'd put me on a plane headed for Timbuktu.”
“Just don’t mention this to him. What time's our appointment?”
“2:00 p.m. Oh, just a minute.” He opened her door and picked up a plastic garment bag from the chair outside her room. “Here are your clothes, minus the smoke. The maid washed and dried them for you.” He laid them on the bed.
“Let me hop into the shower and wash off the smoke. Then can we get something to eat? I'm starved.”
He opened her guest guide on the nightstand and handed it to her. “Here's the room service menu.” He laid it on her bed. “Pick out whatever you like, it's on the DOJ.”
“That means on you, the taxpayer, Jeff.”
“Yeah. Guess it does. Okay. Oatmeal and a slice of toast for you.”
“I've paid taxes in the U.S. for three years now, Jeff Jacobs. Order me their big breakfast scramble in a pan. See you in a half hour. Then we can decide what to tell your lawyer friend.”
* * *
At 1:55 p.m. Jeff led Allie up the sidewalk toward Larry Wendell's office. There had been so many setbacks over the past three days that Jeff refused to let his hopes get too high until Larry gave him some solid reasons for optimism.
The office door opened before he and Allie reached it. Larry's friendly face met them and his eyes studied them.
“Allie, this is Larry Wendell. Larry, meet Allie Santiago.”
