Undercover Jeopardy

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Undercover Jeopardy Page 16

by Kathleen Tailer


  Bethany stopped her work and glared at Westfield. “All of those people sick or murdered, just to advance the Guard’s agenda. There are other ways to reach your objectives without all the killing.”

  “You make think so, my dear, but with five new members of congress pushing the Guard’s agenda at the federal level, amazing things can happen, and we just don’t have time to wait.” He shifted. “And don’t start believing that the Guard has a limited influence only in the tiny little state of Tennessee. We’re growing every day. This is just the beginning. The Heritage Guard has a glorious future. We’ll be moving mountains in no time.”

  He pulled some rope out of one of the pockets of his jacket and threw it on the ground in front of Bethany. “Tie him up. Tightly. And believe me, I’m going to check, so do a good job.”

  Bethany picked up the rope and turned to Daniel. She met his eye and he saw worry and love radiating back at him. Love? Wait, was that really love there? He was so excited to see the emotion there written on her face it almost made him forget that a madman was standing a few feet away, pointing a deadly weapon at them.

  “How is your arm?” she asked softly.

  “I think it’s the least of our problems right now.” He put his hands up, and she tied them together.

  “Now, sit and tie his feet,” Westfield ordered. “And add this gag,” he said, throwing a bandanna on the ground.

  They complied, and once Daniel was incapacitated, Westfield pocketed his gun and faced Bethany with a length of rope. “Put your hands together. Now.”

  Bethany complied, but then at the last minute, she struck out with her fist and caught Westfield in the chin. The traitor had been expecting defiance, however, and the blow didn’t hit with the full force that Bethany had intended. Westfield countered with a hit to Bethany’s gut that took her breath away. He was then able to grab her left arm and wrench it behind her, causing her to cry out in pain. She struggled against him and Daniel writhed against his bindings and bit against the gag, frustrated by his lack of ability to help.

  Westfield pulled even harder against Bethany’s arm, yanking it so roughly she cried out again. He pushed her against the wall, forcing her face against the cold gray concrete and pulling her arm up her back in an awkward angle so she could barely move without being in severe pain. “Keep fighting me, Bethany, and I’ll break your arm, I swear I will.”

  She finally quit fighting and nodded. “Okay, Westfield. You win.”

  He released her arm and flipped her around so he was seeing her face-to-face. “I didn’t want it to end this way between us. I really didn’t. I wanted us to be on the same side. We could have been so good together, you and me. We could have made an excellent team.”

  “I would never join you,” Bethany said, her voice full of derision. “You disgust me.”

  It was apparently the wrong thing to say. Westfield’s eyes turned cold, and he brought his fist back and slammed it into Bethany’s face. Her head bounced against the concrete behind her, and her body went limp and fell to the ground.

  Daniel yelled, but the gag kept him from making any real sound. He tried to kick out at Westfield, but being trussed up like a Christmas turkey made it hard for him to do much, and Westfield ended up giving him two hard kicks in the gut in response and pushed him away. As Daniel tried to regain his breath, Westfield tied Bethany up and left her in a heap in the corner.

  Then he stood over both of them and laughed.

  “Relax, Daniel. You’re about to be famous. And don’t forget, it’s for a good cause.”

  With that, he checked the explosives to verify that they were set properly, then turned and left, sauntering down the stadium walkway, leaving them with the C-4 and the detonator set, the timer silently counting off the minutes before the explosion would rock the stadium and take out the entire south wall.

  EIGHTEEN

  Bethany’s head was pounding. Was that a bass drum playing in her brain? Why wouldn’t it stop? She tried to sit up, but the pounding got worse.

  “Bethany? Lie still. You might have a concussion.”

  “Daniel?” Her mind was a bit foggy. She remembered... Suddenly, it all came rushing back to her and she opened her eyes at the same time that she tried to move her arms and legs.

  “How long was I out?”

  “Only a few minutes.”

  Her hands were tied behind her and her feet were bound together, both rather securely with lengths of white rope that Westfield had brought with him. She looked over at Daniel. He had apparently bitten through the thin bandanna that Westfield had used to gag him and was now working on trying to loosen the ropes on his own hands and feet. He actually looked like he was having a bit of success, and Bethany had to admit that she was impressed. Westfield had checked her knots when he had forced her to tie Daniel up. He was bound securely.

  “I can’t believe you’re getting out of those ropes. How are you managing it?”

  Daniel was silent for a moment as if contemplating his answer, then finally swallowed heavily. “Unfortunately, I’ve had some experience with escaping difficult situations like this. My brother used to tie me up for fun when I was younger. It was a game to him and his friends. They would tie me up in knots with rope or whatever they could find and then leave me that way for hours. I got pretty good at getting untied. I had lots of chances to hone my skills.”

  Bethany looked at him, sure that her wide eyes were reflecting the shock and disgust she was feeling. How could a brother do such a thing? Especially an older brother who should have been protecting a younger one from an abusive parent? Still, she made sure to keep her voice level and calm. She knew instinctively that pity was not what Daniel would want to hear—now or ever. “How long did they leave you like that?”

  Daniel kept working on the ropes as he spoke and didn’t meet her eyes. “At first, it was only for a few minutes at a time. I was six or so. Then it stretched into longer periods because they lost interest and forgot about me. A couple of times, I was stuck like that for almost twenty-four hours.”

  “Oh, Daniel,” Bethany muttered. Still, she was pleased that he had shared part of his past with her, even if it was a series of horrific memories from his childhood. He had actually told her something about his family, and she could tell that even though it had been difficult for him, he was glad that he had done so.

  “Yeah, well, like I said, I’ve had a little practice at getting out of tight situations, and that might actually come in handy right about now.” He grimaced. “I apologize in advance. I’m about to do something and, well, this sound might bother you.”

  She heard a pop and he winced as his shoulder went out of joint, but that movement made the rope just slack enough around his wrists that he was able to pull at the bindings and release the rope from around his hands and free himself. He popped the joint back in place, then untied his feet, moving a little slowly because of his injured arm.

  “Tell me you did not just pop your shoulder out of the joint so you could free yourself,” she said softly, wincing as she imagined the pain that must be associated with such a maneuver.

  “It hurt a lot worse the first time it happened, believe me.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “And now?”

  “It makes my arm sore for a while, but I don’t really notice it anymore.”

  There was quite a bit of blood on the rope near his wrists and on his coat and shirt where he had been bleeding from the bullet wound, but he seemed to be ignoring that as well, as he turned his focus to untying Bethany’s bindings. Once he had her free, he gently cupped her head in his hands and kissed her on the lips.

  “I love you, Bethany. I’m so sorry that Westfield hurt you.”

  It was a wonderful kiss, sweet and full of promise. “I’m sorry about your brother,” she said softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “Yeah, well, you wanted the unvar
nished truth. That’s one reason why I don’t send him Christmas cards every year. We’ve never been close. He’s six years older than me, and he had a different father, so when my mom started losing it, she sent him to live with his old man. I haven’t heard from him since.”

  “Did he know you were being abused growing up?”

  “I don’t know what he knew or didn’t know. Frankly, once he was gone, it was just one less problem I had to deal with. If he did know, I don’t think he cared.” He gently wiped the blood off the cut on her temple where Westfield had bashed her against the concrete wall.

  “We only have a few minutes until this C-4 is set to blow. Do you know how to disarm it?” Daniel asked.

  “Sure. That’s the easy part. Then we need to get through to the rest of the stadium and make sure all of the rest of the C-4 is disarmed, as well. Who knows how far Westfield has gotten or if law enforcement had any trouble making the arrests.”

  “He smashed both of our cell phones and the radio,” Daniel said, his tone matter-of-fact, “but we’ll get Westfield and a status report. This place is loaded with law enforcement. I’m actually surprised no one has come up here to check on us.” He stood and examined the charges. “Can you tell me how to do it? The timer says we have eight minutes left before this is set to blow.”

  Bethany shook her head, then regretted it when the pain got worse because of the movement. She gritted her teeth and started to stand, and Daniel grabbed her hand with his uninjured arm and helped pull her to her feet.

  “I’ll take care of it.” She quickly disarmed the bomb and removed the C-4, detonator and timer from the girder. Once she was sure they were safe, she secured all of the material into different compartments of her coat. Then they left the secluded area and immediately headed for the lower area of the stadium where the concessions and more populated sections were located. All they needed to do was find someone in law enforcement before they ran into someone from the Heritage Guard.

  Unfortunately, Derek was the next face they came across, and he was quick to whip out his gun and point it directly at Daniel and Bethany.

  “Well, if it isn’t the two traitors I was looking for,” he said, a sneer in his voice.

  “What are you talking about?” Daniel asked, immediately putting his hands up while at the same time moving in a protective stance in front of Bethany.

  Bethany would have objected—she was usually able to take care of herself, thank you, but her head was still not right after Westfield had bounced it off the concrete. She did know this—it didn’t make sense that Derek was still in the stadium and running around with a loaded weapon. He should have been arrested with the rest of the Guard members. Hopefully, law enforcement had already made sure that all of the other charges had been disarmed throughout the stadium, but if Derek was still free, then maybe the stadium was still in jeopardy and all the people were still in harm’s way after all. A nervous knot tightened in her stomach as she glanced at her watch. “What are you doing here?” she asked. “You were supposed to set your charges and clear out like the rest of us.”

  “Bishop told us all that you two had betrayed the Guard. He sent me up here to deal with both of you.”

  * * *

  Daniel took a step forward. “Really? Well, let’s just think about this. The timers are set to go off in less than five minutes. If what you say is true, then it sounds to me like he sent you up here to die, don’t you think?” As he spoke, he got closer and closer to Derek, until he suddenly reached with his good arm and grabbed for the gun, forcing it up so the barrel was pointed toward the ceiling. It fired, the noise echoing off the concrete walls as the two men struggled for supremacy of the loaded weapon. The bullet ricocheted away and zinged against walls as the two men wrestled.

  Daniel tried to wrench the gun away, but Derek’s grip was tighter than he’d thought and he only had one good arm to fight with. Without realizing it, Derek hit Daniel’s bad arm where the bullet wound injury was fresh. Daniel grunted and quickly kicked Derek’s knee in response and the man’s leg collapsed. Derek shrieked in pain and when he fell to the left, Daniel hit him hard in the stomach with his good arm and then again with his knee. Derek coughed in response and released the gun, then fell to the ground and grabbed his injured knee with both hands, writhing. “I think you broke my leg!” he spat, as he rolled back and forth.

  Daniel ignored him and kick him again, making sure he wasn’t getting up again any time soon, and also ensuring that he wouldn’t try anything while he was down. Bethany was quickly there, frisking him for weapons. She found his phone and immediately called their law enforcement contact to find out the status of the bombs in the stadium while Daniel kept the weapon trained on Derek’s midriff. “Don’t move a muscle, Derek.”

  “We’re clear,” Bethany said, visibly relieved. She blew out a breath, and closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “The other thirteen bricks of C-4 have been accounted for. They’ve arrested Liam, Bishop, Ethan and two others from the Guard that Bishop must have called in to assist.”

  Two security guards suddenly appeared on the scene, their weapons drawn, apparently coming to check out the source of the gunshot.

  “CPD,” Daniel announced, as they approached. “This man is a perp and needs to be taken into custody.” To his credit, Derek kept his mouth shut, even as the two guards arrested him and handcuffed him. Daniel was glad Derek was done fighting. He didn’t have much strength left in his hand that was holding the gun, but he didn’t have time to stop and get medical treatment either. They needed to stop Westfield and the Guard before they hurt the congressmen at the Christmas party.

  Bethany came to his side and touched his arm gently. “Are you okay?”

  He looked into her eyes, and could tell that she was asking about more than just his physical condition. He thought about what he had told her about his brother’s abuse. He hadn’t planned to share that with her—but he hadn’t stopped himself either. He had never shared that story with anybody before and hadn’t known exactly what kind of reaction to expect, but afterward he was glad that he had told her about his brother’s behavior. She wanted to know the true story of his past, and it had actually felt good to tell her.

  “I will be,” he answered softly. He holstered his gun and took her hand. “Let’s go stop the Guard from doing any more damage.” He looked down at their entwined fingers and smiled.

  The difference was the love, he realized. Although she hadn’t said the words, he had seen it in her face and mirrored in her eyes. He knew her feelings for him were growing and were stronger than they ever had been. He was patient. Their relationship had strengthened over the last few days, and he had seen changes in Bethany that he hadn’t seen even when they had been dating the year before.

  There were changes in him too, he realized. Before, he hadn’t wanted to tell her about his life growing up, but now he had taken the plunge and decided that it was worth the sacrifice. He wanted Bethany in his life. Period. If that meant he needed to tell her every detail of his past, then he would do it. He loved her. He would do whatever it took to make sure they could be together. He wasn’t going to blurt it all out in one sitting, but little by little, he was finally willing to share that part of himself with her—only with her.

  Thank you, Lord, for giving me the strength to share my past with Bethany. I’ve buried the pain inside for so long that I didn’t think it was possible to talk about it out loud, but You’ve helped me see that it’s not only possible, but necessary so I can move on and deal with my past. Thank You for bringing her back into my life and giving us a second chance.

  NINETEEN

  “Freeze, Westfield,” Daniel said, his voice cold and clear. His weapon was unwavering as he pointed it at Westfield’s head. The man was sitting in a chair in a small private airfield’s lobby, waiting for the small jet he’d hired to whisk him away into obscurity. Thankfully, Daniel and
Bethany had been able to track Westfield down through internet purchases a mere twenty minutes before the plane was set to take off, despite the man’s attempts to stay hidden and escape.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Bethany said, as Max turned slightly as if he were going to either close his laptop or push some of the buttons on the computer. She also had her weapon drawn and was coming at him from the opposite doorway.

  “Ah, Bethany. I’m so glad you came to see me off.” He smiled, but it was a sad smile, as if they shared some secret together.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard by now that the stadium was saved,” she said quietly. “None of the C-4 charges detonated and no one was hurt.” She took a step closer. “The governor’s Christmas party also got canceled. The food is being tested as we speak. Anything tainted will be destroyed before it can harm anyone, and whoever poisoned it will be prosecuted. Operation Battlefield has failed, Westfield. Both phase one and phase two were a complete wash.”

  Westfield shrugged. “You’ll undoubtedly arrest a few, but the Heritage Guard operates in cells for a reason. You won’t be able to get at the true leaders. They’re too deeply hidden—too entrenched for you to find them. The Guard will live on and will rise again.”

  “That’s what we thought too, until we found the hidden hard drives in the dry cleaners when we did a very thorough search of the place about an hour ago. Our search warrant pretty much let us tear the place apart, and you’d be surprised at the membership lists we found, not to mention the financial records, offshore accounts and other valuable information we discovered. The attorney general and local state attorney are going to be delivering a joint statement within a few hours, and will be issuing subpoenas and indictments on a national scale. This case is huge. The Heritage Guard is finished.”

 

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