by Linzi Basset
She swiveled in a slow circle, searching for any untoward movement but there was nothing—except absolute stillness. No air stirred the leaves. Not a sound could be heard. Even the birds that usually chirped in the big Bur oak tree next to the workshop were silent.
“What the fuck is going on?” Samantha wondered aloud, becoming unsettled by the eerie silence that spiked her senses. Her body tensed. She felt like a prey even though she couldn’t detect any predators.
Woodcraft Carpentry was situated on Kent’s Island, on a piece of land she’d purchased under her assumed name, Samantha Frazer, when she’d left the CIA. It was close to her real name, Sandra Francis. The name change had been a means to ‘disappear’ and hide from Bulldog.
“What a waste of time that has been,” she muttered. “He found me nonetheless.” And the fact that he never questioned the name change meant he’d always known what it was.
She walked toward the workshop, frowning when she noticed that the big rolling doors were open. Another glance around caused her concern to increase. David’s big Chevy truck was parked in its usual spot under the tree, as was young Billy’s beetle that sported the blue stripe and number 53 in true ‘Herbie’ fashion from his favorite movie, Herbie: Fully loaded. Roxy’s scrambler bike was parked between the two vehicles.
On the other side of the building three more vehicles stood under the parking shed. It seemed all her staff was at work, which made the silence even more worrying.
Samantha picked up two pieces of hardwood to use as weapons and slowly made her way through the workshop. Pieces of doors, counters and half-made chairs were proof that they had been working.
“Where the fuck is everyone?” Her whisper sounded too loud in her own ears as she opened the door leading to the offices on the side of the building.
Five minutes later she walked outside. The administrative offices had been trashed. Furniture was toppled over, with papers scattered everywhere but there was no one inside the building. A loud crash from the storage shed drew her attention and she ran in that direction. She flattened her back against the wall, listening at the door.
She detected muted grunts but no other sound. The shed had no windows and not knowing what was waiting for her inside, gnawed at her insides. She might be walking into a trap but on the other hand, someone might be hurt and in need of help.
“I’ll just have to take the chance.”
She opened the door wide enough to slip through and hunkered on her haunches just inside, waiting for her eyes to adapt to the blackness inside. Light came through the sides of the door and the slats of the roof and as her eyes adjusted, she could see.
“Hmm! Hmm!”
Some shuffling and grunts came from the far side of the shed next to a stack of wood. Samantha made her way there between the shelves, treading carefully, as lightly as she could.
She found her staff in the corner, huddled against each other with a rope tied around them to keep them together. Their mouths were covered by tape. Samantha didn’t move; she watched silently and looked around but realized after a while that there was no one else in the shed.
“Hmm! Hmm!” The shuffling increased as someone in the group tried to edge them all toward the door. Samantha switched on the light. Their muted cries of relief when they recognized her, echoed through the shed.
She quickly yanked off the covering from their mouths.
“Are you all okay?” she asked with a worried frown as she tried to untie them. Eventually she gave up and looked around for something sharp.
“We’re fine but I’m not so sure about Dave.”
She glanced at Roxy—the receptionist, while she found a saw to cut through the rope.
“Where is he? I didn’t see him in the workshop or the offices.”
“Behind that stack of wood on the other side,” Billy said. He rushed there the moment the ropes fell to the floor, Samantha and the rest close on his heels.
Dave was lying on his side. She forced the worry back and slowly turned him on his back. One side of his shirt was soaked with blood that was seeping from two wounds; one in his shoulder and the other in his arm.
“He’s lost a lot of blood. What the hell happened here?” She asked, yanking her phone from her pocket. Her hands were shaking as she made the call.
“Yes, Samantha?” Rhone snapped into her ear. She startled and glanced at the phone, realizing that she’d phoned him without thought.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I phoned you,” she said. Her voice sounded hoarse and she could detect a slight tremor in the vocals.
Rhone caught onto it immediately. “What is wrong? Samantha! Talk to me,” he rasped.
“I’m at my shop. Something happened. All my staff had been tied up and . . . Dave has been hurt. He lost a lot of blood. I was going to phone an ambulance . . . instead I phoned you. I don’t know why—”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Phone an ambulance in the meantime. I’ll phone the police. Stay with the rest of the people, Samantha. Is that clear? Do not go off anywhere on your own until I get there.”
Billy, with the help of two of the other workers, Clive and Vincent, made a makeshift wooden stretcher and carried Dave to the main office. Roxy phoned an ambulance and returned to assist Samantha to make him comfortable and try to stem the blood.
“Press these towels hard onto the wounds and keep the pressure. It should curtail the bleeding,” Samantha instructed Roxy and Billy, who wouldn’t leave Dave’s side.
Samantha looked at the rest hovering in the doorway. “Will someone please tell me what the fuck happened here?”
“Six gunmen stormed inside and demanded money. Dave told him we didn’t keep any cash on site and the leader began hitting him. We all stormed in to help, but then one guy shot Dave in the arm. Three of them kept their guns on us while the others went to ransack the offices.” Vincent related the incident.
“It was strange; they seemed only interested in hurting Dave. Even when he didn’t fight them, they kept hitting him. They deliberately taunted him. It was like they wanted him to retaliate,” Clive continued thoughtfully.
“Yeah, and when they couldn’t find anything of value, they forced us into the shed and tied us up. That’s when they pounded Dave again. This time, he fought back and got that second bullet for his trouble. Although, I think it was meant to kill him but he managed to drop to the ground and it hit him in the shoulder. They dragged him away and we could hear them threatening him before he took a blow to the head. Then they just left,” Vincent finished the story.
The siren of the ambulance in the distance was a relief and she rushed outside, surprised to look up and see a chopper hover overhead. The windows were tinted so she couldn’t make out who was inside. She retreated back into the workshop and waited with the rest of the people as it landed in the opening.
It was a beautiful black chopper that had all the men fixated as they stared at it. With its sleek lines, coaxial counter-rotating main rotors, pusher propeller, and retractable landing gear it looked like a machine from a science fiction movie.
“Holy smokes, Boss, you know some people!” Billy said in awe.
Samantha became flustered when Rhone and Keon got out of the chopper and approached them at the same time the ambulance skidded to a halt.
She didn’t know what spurred her actions but the next thing she knew, she was running toward Rhone and flung herself into his arms. They locked around her as he hugged her close and buried his face in her hair.
“Are you okay, luv?” He demanded in her throat.
She nodded but couldn’t form any words. Her throat locked with the emotions that swirled inside her. The feeling of security, of being safe and sound within his arms shattered the composure she usually had over herself.
“What kind of chopper is that? Oh, I’m Billy, by the way,” he asked Keon, who was introducing himself around.
“It’s a Sikorsky S-97 Raider. Military issued, but he,” and he tilted his he
ad in Rhone’s direction, “has some connections.”
“It’s a damn sweet piece of machinery,” Vincent agreed.
“What happened here?” Keon’s gruff voice penetrated Samantha’s brain and she listened to them relate the story in detail again.
Rhone tilted her head back and stared into her eyes. She cleared her throat.
“You got here fast,” she croaked, suddenly self-conscious about the way she’d flung herself into his arms but not enough to step away from his hard body.
“The S-97 was built for speed and it’s always at the ready in the hanger we’ve added to the company premises.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I phoned you.”
“I’m glad you did, Samantha. It told me something you’d never admit to and absolved you . . . somewhat.”
Her eyebrows drew closer, not sure what he was alluding to. The paramedics rushed Dave inside the ambulance. Samantha pulled out of Rhone’s arms.
“Dave?” she touched his arm and sighed with relief when his eyes flickered open.
“Hey, bossypants,” he smiled weakly. He’d given her the nickname on the first day he’d started working with her. He was her right-hand man, her rock and her second in charge. Without him, the business would’ve failed and most probably still would.
“You’re going to be fine,” she assured him with a tremulous smile.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, don’t you worry. We have that big order for the Keegan group to complete.”
“Don’t be silly, Dave. We’re more than capable of getting it done. You, have to concentrate on getting better. And, no, I don’t want to hear it. Promise me you will listen to the doctors.”
He sighed. “I promise but you tell those youngsters I’ll be inspecting their work once I’m back and they better not have slacked.”
“They wouldn’t dare. I’ll be along shortly. Billy, will you go with Dave, please?” Samantha asked.
“Yea. Someone has to keep an eye on him,” Billy said and hopped inside the ambulance while the others went indoors to clean up the mess in the offices, once the police officers had combed through the crime scene.
Samantha stared after the ambulance as it disappeared around the corner.
“It’s him. He did this,” she said softly.
Keon and Rhone looked at each other. Keon’s lips were compressed in a tight line. He was still struggling with the need to wring the bastard’s name out of her but managed to contain himself. They were working fervently to uncover who Bulldog was. With Alex and the CIA’s R&D team working on identifying the bracelets from the video feed to try and find a way to disarm them, for the first time, there was some hope that all would be over soon.
“Bulldog?” Rhone confirmed.
“Yes. They went after Dave. Without him, this business is nothing. He runs the entire operation. He’s my rock and . . .” Her throat closed at the thought of Dave being killed. “He’s become like a father to me these past years.”
“Why? Did you ask for more money? Now that you’re fucking your target, do you need—”
“Keon,” Rhone berated him. He returned his look with a searing glare.
“What money? I told you, he has my sister. Goddammit! How many times must I say this? I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want to be drawn back into that hell again.”
“Do you really think we’re that stupid? Five million has been transferred to your account, or are you gonna claim ignorance about that too?” Keon continued acerbically.
“Five million? You . . . no! The fucking bastard. He’s trying to set me up . . . I swear, Rhone, I didn’t know about the money. I never gave him any information, least of all, my bank details.”
“If what you’re saying is true, then why this? Why hurt Dave and ransack your offices? What aren’t you telling me, Samantha?” Rhone’s voice had lowered. His expression turned foreboding.
She was silent as she pondered the situation. The brief interlude during the hunt came back to haunt her. She shook her head like she was trying to negate what she was being forced to do.
“I told you he was at the hunt.”
“Well, about that, we confirmed his presence. Although, we couldn’t identify him. He was wearing a cap and kept his head lowered, so the satellite feed couldn’t give us a clear view to do facial recognition. I also know you didn’t shoot me. What did he want with you? Why there?”
“He . . . I had been given three weeks to do the job. I suppose he chose the hunt to prove his supremacy over me; that my life to him is an open book and I can’t hide from him. I even changed my name when I left the CIA. That didn’t stop him from finding me.” She sighed heavily. “Now, because I live with you, he wants it done sooner.”
Keon snorted.
Samantha looked at him. “Look, Keon, I know you hate me and believe I was responsible for your wife’s death, but I swear on my sister’s life that all I did that day, was shoot at other snipers; the ones responsible for her death and shooting at you. I never fired a single shot in your direction that day. The moment I realized they wanted me to shoot an innocent child, I knew it had nothing to do with the CIA. That it was Bulldog’s personal agenda I was expected to clean up. He must’ve known I was folding, that I wanted out and that’s why he brought in the others.”
“There were no others,” he snapped.
“Keon, think about this. I was across the street up on the Hilton’s roof. The shots that killed her came from the left side; the shots fired at you while you were running toward her came from the roof of another building and the one that got you, came from two o’ clock. I couldn’t have fired any of those shots. Also, I killed all three of them. I saved your fucking lives.”
“How do I know you weren’t one of them?”
“You looked up at me when you reached her, just before you got shot. It was me on top of the Hilton, Keon. You were looking at me when that bullet hit you. You know it couldn’t have been me. I walked away right there and then.”
Keon stared at her, unblinking, like he was seeing her for the first time, the cogs turning in his mind. But Samantha realized it would take a lot more than that to soften him toward her. He’d come to hate Ace too much over the years.
“We already know we’re dealing with a corrupt CIA agent. Who has his knife in for you, Rhone, or me, for that matter?” Keon asked. His cold gaze never left hers. “Especially, as she refuses to give us his name.”
“We have many enemies due to our line of work. It could be a corrupt agent in the mafia or syndicate’s back-pocket. As we’ve suspected before, it has to do with Senator Douglas and the prostitution bill.”
Keon’s cold gaze caught hers again. “See why I don’t trust you, Ace? You won’t give up his name. Why? Are you protecting him?”
“No, of course not, but he’s threatening my sister. And I already lost her once. I’m not prepared to take a chance with her life again. Until she’s safe, his name stays with me.” She looked pleadingly at Rhone. “That’s the only reason you’re still alive. He trusts me to do the job. As long as he believes that, he won’t find someone else to do the job.”
“So, are you gonna kill him, Ace?”
Her eyelids flickered. Her insides churned in reaction to the vision of her bullet entering Rhone’s heart and taking his life.
“No.”
“No? Really, Ace? Then what about your sister?”
“I don’t know, Keon, okay! I just don’t—or maybe . . .” The plan she’d been forming in the back of her mind since she’d realized that Rhone was her target, flashed through her mind.
“Yes?” Rhone snapped, somewhat shaken by her vehemence, adding to the flux of emotions that had floored him when she’d subconsciously phoned him in her distress. He was finding it increasingly hard to keep her at distance; physically and emotionally. The unbreakable wall of mistrust was slowly starting to crumble.
“But if he believes I shot you . . .”
“You mean, stage his death? Hmm, that could
work but it sounds like this guy is sharp. It’ll have to be set up very carefully.” Keon stared at her speculatively. “Okay, Samantha, I might be open to listening to you. When we get back to the house, I want to know your story from beginning to end. Then, I’ll decide if you can be trusted.”
Her eyes moved to Rhone. He returned her look with an enigmatic one of his own.
Yeah, maybe Keon might come to trust me, but would Rhone?
Even now, after he’d confirmed that she hadn’t shot him, he looked at her with distrust.
Little did Samantha realize that it was a front to hide the emotions that were running amok through his mind.
But what floored him, was how she’d flung herself into his arms and clung to him when they’d arrived. That small act had spelled out her feelings toward him more than anything else.
He perused her expression. Something flared in the depth of her eyes, which she tried to hide by lowering her lids. His heart missed a beat. Samantha might be a hardened warrior, but deep down she yearned for love.
* * * * * * * *
“Alex, did we have an appointment?” Rhone asked as they shook hands.
Alex White had the looks of a bad-boy movie star—not what you’d expect a governor to look like. He was a regular at Club Alpha Cove and one of the first members to have signed up at Club Devil’s Cove. He was, of course, very popular among the subs.
They’d been friends with him for close to fifteen years and trusted him implicitly. When he ran for office at the young age of thirty-eight, everyone had been surprised at first but soon realized his passion for politics stemmed from an inherent desire to serve the people of this country. He’d been carrying the hefty responsibility with gumption for the past three years, but he also played just as hard. It was that reason he chose to only join Alpha Cove and Wicked Cove, and now Devil’s Cove, where he could be assured of the confidentiality the owners and the club members offered.
“No, but after Max spoke to me about explosive bracelets, I thought it would be better to discuss it here than at my office. And, who have we here?” he asked with one brow lifted questioningly. His eyes narrowed with speculation as it roamed up and down over Samantha, her curvy body dressed in skinny jeans and a scooped neck, white t-shirt.
