by Bella Juarez
Eric Wilson had always credited his wife with his political career. In a single instant this nightmare made sense. Katrina would’ve known how to expertly manipulate Rafe and Eric. It was all a matter of timing and a new operation. Eric Wilson was the chairman of the Defense Intelligence Subcommittee. Katrina Wilson had probably been feeding mother Russia information for years. The discussion between Katrina and Sergei was getting heated. They were arguing about Katrina taking too damn long and he demanded that Katrina either kill JJ or move on and let him finish the job. Katrina had won and JJ heard Sergei’s hurried footsteps retreat. It was time for another round when she returned with her thugs. He smiled with some satisfaction. He’d managed to kill two of the four she’d with her before they took JJ down. Kathy walked in behind them.
“Eventually, JJ, you’ll tell me what I want to know,” Kathy said, circling him.
JJ looked up at Kathy, saying nothing. He knew that Azad, Sergei, and Bakri were close. He heard the three of them arguing, as well, right after the last round of beatings he had undergone.
“So far your story about Fitzgerald-Manheim checks out. I haven’t told Sergei who you really are because he would’ve killed you on the spot. I know you retired right before you tried to hang my son and kick him out of the Navy. Where’s Rafe? I know you keep up with that lowlife son of a bitch Jack O’Malley in San Antonio,” she said.
“Fuck you, Katrina,” JJ spat.
Kathy cupped his face in her hands. “JJ, I don’t want to do this to you. I’m even starting to believe you’re innocent and that you’re just as greedy as I am. Just tell me what I want to know. Where’s Rafe?” she asked, soothing his face.
“Suck my dick, bitch! Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you!” JJ snarled, trying to jerk his head out of her grasp.
Kathy stepped away. She held out her hand and one of her men handed her a container. She pulled out a scalpel that was rested inside. “JJ, I’m going to make you an offer, and you have a choice. You can either die like the pig you are, or you can tell me what I want to know.” Kathy ran the scalpel over his restrained arm and down his chest to his thigh. She lightly ran it over his cock through his pants. “Tell me what I want to know or I’ll cut your dick off with this thing,” she whispered in his ear.
“I’ll see you and your cocksucking son in hell before I tell you anything, bitch!” JJ spat.
Kathy narrowed her eyes, raised her hand, and buried the scalpel deep. JJ couldn’t contain the roar that escaped at the blinding pain of the scalpel penetrating into his shoulder. He distinctly heard the sickening crunch of his collar bone as it chipped.
“JJ, that scalpel was what Dr. Jobrani was using to cut the tissue out of that bloated subject you came to see. You’re going to die, just like him,” Kathy said, walking out.
* * * *
Irene looked around the room where she was being kept. It was dirty and junky. It seemed to be an abandoned manufacturing plant by the broken items littered everywhere. She heard footsteps coming, a man and a woman by the sound of the heels tapping against the concrete. They stopped, and she listened to the arguing in the corridor just outside the room where she was being held. They were speaking a language she didn’t understand.
Irene’s mind clicked remembering some of the things James had taught her. Everything’s a weapon, sugar. She quickly scanned the space. She saw steel pipes lying against the far corner of the room. She looked at the door and noticed crates lined against the wall. They’ll kill me eventually. I’m not making it easy.
Irene found a pipe she could handle and climbed one of the crates that was near the door. If she stood, she would be over the person’s head. She knew her best option was to bring a blow straight down and not swing from side to side.
Irene remembered the lessons in physics from her sixth-grade science class. There would be more force and leverage from a downward strike. She heard the quarrel continue as she got into position. James told her about the adrenalin rush she would feel if she ever got into a fight. He’d told her to control it. It was the natural instinct to run. Control the rush. Use that energy when you need it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to calm her racing heart.
Irene waited, and the footsteps started toward her again. She watched the door and lifted the pipe. She brought down the pipe on the first person that walked through the door. A body slumped to the floor with the impact of the blow. Irene lifted the pipe and started to strike again. The second person was faster. He caught her weapon in midair. She knew she was dead if she let go of the pipe. It was the man and he was stronger as he easily pulled her down from her perch. She recognized him as one of the men in the lab who had been talking with James when she arrived at the abandoned clinic.
“Come, we don’t have much time,” the man said.
“I’m not going a damn place with you!” Irene spat as she tried to lift the pipe out of his grasp. She kicked the man in the shins and tried to pull the pipe away.
He grunted from the pain as he jerked the pipe out of her grip and tossed it to the other side of the room. “He will die if you delay much longer!” the man urged, grabbing Irene’s arms and shaking her. “Come! Now!” he said, leading her out of the room.
The man pulled Irene roughly behind him to another area of the building. He opened the door to another room and Irene stopped cold at the sight. Her throat swelled in horror. James was tied to a chair. He’d clearly been tortured and there was a scalpel sticking out of his shoulder. The blood coating his white shirt went from bright red to a sickly pink as it soaked into the fabric. The man released her and went to work quickly untying James.
“I need your assistance. He will not be able to walk very well,” the man called to her.
Irene shook herself from her shocked stupor and rushed to assist the man that was freeing James. She knelt at James’s feet and started to untie the ropes that bound him to the chair. She was shaking so badly it was difficult to use her fingers. Calm down and think. You won’t be able to help him if you lose it. Irene managed to get a leg untied when another man rushed into the room.
“I managed the chaps that Jones wasn’t able to take down,” the other man said.
“Good. Where’s the strike team?” the man demanded.
“They’re here. They just cleaned up Katrina’s crew and a couple of them went after Bakri. Where’s Katrina?” the second man asked.
“In the northwest corner of the building. She has been injured,” the older man answered, looking at Irene.
They managed to free James. The two men lifted him from the chair. James roared in pain as they brought him to his feet and hoisted his uninjured arm over younger man’s shoulder. As they started to walk toward the door, two men in black entered the room and demanded they get down on the ground. Irene instantly recognized the voice issuing the harsh commands.
“Shaq! Help us,” Irene called.
“Irene?” Shaq asked, slightly lowering his weapon. “Shit! Captain will be pissed when he finds out about this.” The young SEAL spoke into his radio.
“The northwest corner of the building, there’s a woman. She’s a tango. Try to take her alive,” the younger man said, addressing Shaq.
Shaq gave more directions over his radio and then came to assist the younger man that had been in the lab with James. Irene was escorted outside by some of the SEALs that were with Shaq. She saw three commercial vans. Irene turned sharply at the sound of a gunshot from inside the building. The side door to one of the vans opened and Jack climbed out. Irene rushed to him and he gathered her in his arms.
“You’re supposed to be in Texas! What happened?” Jack demanded.
“Just go and help James. I’ll explain later,” Irene said.
Jack looked as James was being carried from the building and ran to help. Irene watched helplessly as they managed James into one of the vans. Jack helped her inside, and she sank onto the floor of the vehicle next to James. A young medic started treating him.
“He’s been infected,” Jack called to the medic inside as he slammed the door shut.
The jolt of the vehicle told Irene they were on the move. She looked at James as the medic started an IV line. James’s eyes fluttered open. He looked at Irene.
“Sugar…” James whispered. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have come to Paris,” he said hoarsely.
Irene cupped his face in her hands. “James, I’m so glad I did,” she said, soothing him. She bit her lower lip as uncontrolled tears started to fall. The last thing in the world he needed to see right now was a crying hysterical woman. She could no longer hold back all the fear and emotion she had suppressed during this whole ordeal.
“No, baby, don’t do that,” James said, lifting his hand to wipe away her tears. “Be strong, sugar. Promise me you’ll never forget me.” He leaned his face into her hand.
“James, don’t you dare die on me,” Irene said.
“I love you, sugar,” James said, closing his eyes.
“I love you, too, and we still have a lot to do,” Irene said urgently.
“I’ve waited so long to hear you say that. Thank you, sugar,” James whispered as he went unconscious.
“James, James!”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the young medic said, taking her hand.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Royal Air Force Base Lakenheath
Suffolk, United Kingdom
March 15, 2009/1757 Zulu
Sugar…JJ knew Irene was close. When he took a deep breath he inhaled the scent of sweet jasmine. I’m home and Irene is close. He fought to open his eyes. He knew he was drugged by the way he felt. The last thing he could remember was pain, lots of pain. Now the pain seemed to be somewhere in the background because it wasn’t as bad. He took another deep breath and winced at the sharp pain from the broken rib on his right side. He relaxed with the scent that filled his clouded mind. I’m not dreaming. She’s still here…
“Sugar…” JJ slurred weakly. He opened his eyes and saw Sergei Vaslliev looking at him. He was confused because he could smell Irene, but he was looking at Sergei. He was trying to get his bearings. Everything around him was white. Irene, where are you?
“Am I dead? Am I in hell?” JJ asked feebly.
JJ heard Irene’s bubbly giggle. Sergei looked to JJ’s left. He turned his head in that direction and saw Irene and Rock sitting next to his bed. He closed his eyes as Irene’s small hand closed into his allowing him to finally relax.
“What are you doing here, Sergei?” JJ asked in Russian.
“I needed a brace for my leg. I have a cracked shin, thanks to your woman,” Sergei answered in English, leaning on a cane.
“Did your family make it?” JJ asked.
“Yes, they are in America waiting for me,” Sergei answered.
“Good luck, Sergei. I’m glad you’re on our side now,” JJ said, gripping Irene’s hand a little tighter.
“My wife and family are in Houston. I’m moving to Texas because I have always admired John Wayne,” Sergei said with a smile.
“John Wayne made his movies in Hollywood. We don’t want your ass in Texas, Sergei. Move to California,” JJ said with a smile as he closed his eyes again. Sergei broke into laughter. “Where are we, Rock?”
“Lakenheath Air Force Base in England,” Rock said.
“Sugar, did I hear Sergei right, you cracked his shin? How did you do that?” JJ asked.
“Oh, James…” Irene started. JJ could tell by her tone she was embarrassed.
JJ heard Rock and Sergei laugh. “After she KO’d Kathy Wilson with a steel pipe, who, by the way, got one hell of concussion from that little trick, she kicked the shit out of Sergei,” Rock informed.
“I’m so sorry, Sergei,” Irene apologized.
JJ chuckled. He would’ve outright laughed at the picture that flashed in his head of Irene swinging a steel pipe and roundhouse kicking Sergei but it hurt way too much to laugh right now. “You did listen, sugar,” he said. “Did you manage to get everybody?”
“Bakri got inside the Pakistani embassy before we could grab him. He took off as soon as Kathy stabbed you with the scalpel,” Rock informed.
“Fuck! That’s the one we needed,” JJ whispered.
“We’ll get him another day. We’ve got Kathy. She’s a huge catch,” Rock assured.
“Azad? What happened to Azad?” JJ asked.
“I shot him right before we left. Nothing fatal, simply enough to make it look like he was in a fight. He will return to Iran a hero,” Sergei said.
“Come on, Sergei, you’ll be flying back with me and we leave in two hours,” Rock said, standing. “Irene, call me and let me know how this old salt is doing.”
“I will, Jack. Thank you,” Irene said, standing and giving him a hug.
JJ heard the shuffling out of his room and heard Irene softly close the door behind them. He opened his eyes when he heard her take the seat next to him.
“What happened, sugar? Why didn’t you get on that plane?” JJ asked.
“The taxi driver was one of Kathy Wilson’s goons. I never made it to the airport. Instead he took me to that abandoned building. Kathy kept asking me where her son was. I thought I’d never get her to understand I’d never lain eyes on her son much less knew his whereabouts,” Irene said.
“Did she hurt you?”
“No. She’s crazy, James. What will happen to her?”
“I don’t know, sugar,” JJ said, fighting sleep. “How long have I been here?”
“Two days. They had you quarantined the first twenty-four hours until they got the infection under control. They beat you up pretty bad, honey.”
“Believe it or not I’ve survived worse, but I was a lot younger then. I’m getting too old for this,” JJ said, wincing as he adjusted himself.
“James, can you tell me what’s going on with Sergei? I thought he wanted to hurt you. I didn’t want to ask Jack.”
“He defected. He figured out we had a mole working with him. He managed to get his family passports out of Russia and Ukraine and take them with him to Paris. We made it look like a snatch and grab. Sergei was just flat tired of killing innocent people. It’s a big a win for us, sugar.”
They were quiet for a moment. Irene stood and leaned over JJ.
“I think we need to go back home for a while,” Irene said with a smile as she gently stroked his face. She kissed him. “I love you, Mr. Jones and I need you around for a while. I don’t want to bury another husband any time soon.”
“I wasn’t imagining when I heard you say that the first time. I want to be cremated. No tight spaces,” JJ said with a smile.
“We need to get home…to Austin.”
“I love you, too, sugar.” JJ slipped into a deep, warm sleep.
* * * *
Irene watched James fall asleep. She sent up another prayer of thanks for his survival. It seemed as if she had been praying nonstop for the last three days. She was so relieved when he’d finally opened his eyes and spoke. The luster and fun of traveling the globe with James had sobered in Paris and Irene was ready to go home. She recalled with a shudder how she actually thought she had lost him while driving to the airfield. It had been the longest ride of her life.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the young medic said, taking her hand. “I need to work on him.” The young man removed her hands from James’s face.
“He’s not dead?” Irene asked with a glimmer of hope.
“No, ma’am, just passed out. Looks like Master Chief took some abuse,” the young man said, getting back to work. “He’s pretty tough. He was my nightmare during SQTs,” the young man said, attempting to lighten the tension.
“Can I help you?” Irene asked as she lifted her hand to brush away the tears.
“I wouldn’t do that, ma’am. Don’t touch your face without washing your hands. You don’t have any cuts do you?” the medic asked.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Wash your hands with this,�
�� the medic said, handing her a bottle and a blue surgical cloth. Irene quickly washed the blood off as best she could and dried her hands. “If you want, you can clean him up so I can see if he needs stitches.” The young man handed her a stack of gauze, gloves, and a bottle of saline. “Put on those gloves. He’s been infected,” the young man cautioned.
Irene recalled how she washed all the blood off of James and watched the young medic take out an IV bag from a portable cooler. The medic glanced at her as he started to administer the drug.
“It’s an antibiotic. Rock said Master Chief’s been infected,” the young man said.
“Will he be all right?” Irene asked as she continued her work.
“He will as long as there’s no other serious damage. Master Chief needs a short vacation in sick bay,” the young man said. Irene must’ve look confused because he went on further. “A hospital, ma’am,” the young man translated.
Irene shuddered at the memory as she watched James sleep. That was by far one of the worst scenes she’d ever witnessed. She remembered what had gone through her mind as she watched James slip into unconsciousness. She thought he’d died and she regretted holding back telling him how much she loved him. Pride and guilt had consumed her for so long and for what? It was a waste of short, precious time. She realized in an instant just how much she held back from someone who loved and cherished her every day since their initial meeting.
Irene made up her mind. If she and James survived this horrible ordeal, she would never again hold back her feelings and there would be no worries about what anyone thought. They had something together she and David could never seem to achieve. Friendship and partnership. Irene marveled at how from the very beginning she and James were so in tune with each other. The passion that followed so quickly was natural and unrestrained. They seemed to complete each other. David was a good man, provider, and husband but they had never really been friends. Irene had always been David’s wife. She and James were best friends, and if she wasn’t careful the happiness she took for granted would slip through her fingers because of her foolish pride.
