A Critical Tangent

by Reily Garrett

  The second man.

  Instead of rimming the edge of the woods, the guard strolled too far out for a quick approach. A shot would alert his comrades inside; hence, options were limited without getting closer. Waiting for the next pass for a better position wasn’t going to happen.

  Low hanging branches of a pine tree offered visual obscurity but no cover from rifle shots. He still wore his vest, which wouldn’t protect his head or the rest of his body.

  Instead of offering his enemy a target, he pulled back the slide of his gun, the sound distinctive enough in the still morning air. The bastard halted in his tracks.

  “Drop the weapon or die. Your choice.” Nolan waited, praying for some good karma to come his way.

  The guard stood ten feet away.

  A rifle slid from his grasp before he held his hands up. The handle of a Glock 19 peeked above the rig attached to his belt.

  “Face the building and forget the pistol.” Nolan closed the distance and with his left hand, retrieved his handcuffs. He had no tape to silence the guard or keep him from sending up an alarm. A piece of torn cloth would have to do.

  Time was precious. Through his mic, he received updates on Coyote’s position and the remaining guard.

  “Hands behind your back. Now.” Perspiration dotted his forehead and slid down his neck. An update on Coyote acknowledged success in subduing the second perimeter guard.

  Stepping within striking distance, Nolan slapped the first cuff on with more force than necessary, anticipating a reaction.

  Experience taught him to be prepared for his prisoner to twist around.

  The following maneuver wasn’t taught in training but had saved more than one officer’s life. Instead of hanging onto the attached cuff, Nolan let it go and reared back with his gun hand, still holding the weapon.

  The bastard wheeled around but crumpled with a solid whack to his head. Turnabout was fair play.

  Handy in any situation.

  After cuffing and dragging his prisoner into the woods, he scooped up the rifle and spare pistol. Using the gunman’s own belt, Nolan secured him to a sturdy poplar. Removing his jacket provided material to bind his feet, at least long enough to rescue Keiki. Dirty socks stuffed in his mouth with a strip of shirt holding it secure made for a nice quiet touch.

  In the meantime, Tucker advised of Coyote’s success in subduing the other guard adding, “There’s one entrance, guys. I’ve got the puffer drone in position, so as soon as you engage the ones inside, I’ll hover it in sight and get the last one’s attention.”

  “Anything for cover?” Nolan asked.

  “There are tables both left and right once you enter, but I can’t tell if they are fiber board or metal. Sorry. Choices are slim and pot luck today.”

  Nolan tapped his com and bolted for the personnel door. Once there, he whispered his question while waiting for Coyote to round the far corner of the structure. “Is she still out?”

  The quiet murmur didn’t conceal the PI’s escalating anger. “She’s waking up. He’s slapping her face.”

  In the distance, the sound of multiple engines coming to a halt announced the impending arrival of backup.

  Tucker’s warning supplied motivation. “Lots of company. I suggest you two move your slowpoke asses.”

  The first sign of uncertainty furrowed Coyote’s brow after reaching the opposite side of the door. He huffed several quiet breaths and gripped the handle then after he mouthed the words, “One, two, three,” he yanked the door wide.

  Light spilled into the darkened interior.

  Wasting no time, Nolan burst inside and dove left. Coyote barreled right. Each had their weapons up and had taken down one adversary before the other two engaged.

  Unfortunately, those two had flipped a table on its side for cover. They were metal.

  Nolan and Coyote did the same.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Keiki blinked to clear the fog from her mind and concentrate on the mouth yelling foul obscenities inches from her nose. Pain narrowed her concentration to internal sensations, agony exploding in her head.

  The strike of an open palm caused less pain than a fist would have, but judging by the escalating force behind each impact, the latter would soon occur.

  She expected to see Porter’s face, not the stranger with a scar running from the corner of his eye to his temple.

  Someone had bound her wrists in front of her with duct tape. A shorter piece lay stuck to her jacket flap, accounting for the pain in her lips.

  Brief assessment put her on a thin cot in a small block room. Light streaming in through a narrow window and visible treetops suggested the location an outbuilding, but not Harock’s hideaway. The angle was wrong and air too fresh.

  “You will not be my downfall, puta. I’ve invested everything in this!” Her captor leaned closer to deliver the full force of his rage.

  Judging by his position, he wasn’t much taller, but carried a solid hundred and fifty pounds more than her slight frame. His weight alone could crush her if she couldn’t finagle her hands free.

  Tucker had taught her the trick of ripping tape from a standing position—holding one’s hands overhead and swinging them down with all the force possible.

  “Tell me where that flash drive is. Did your police friends find it?” Spittle flew from his mouth.

  Shouted words made no sense until her mind layered in the familiar accent; a different voice but the same underlying dialect. Details of her abduction came crashing through her thoughts.

  When he raised his hand high, she tried to tuck her chin to chest and roll her shoulders forward.

  The strike would include a closed fist.

  Hesitating, the bastard gritted his teeth after looking over his shoulder. Sudden successive pops from outside the door diverted his attention.

  Gunfire. Nolan found me.

  Her mind couldn’t work out the logistics since she didn’t know how long she’d been unconscious. She needed a minute to clear her thoughts.

  “You’re still looking for the formula? Gabby didn’t give it to you?” The thought of her friend trying to do the right thing near the end burned the back of Keiki’s eyes.

  “No. Even after Porter tied her hands, the bitch found a way to defeat him in the end. She lunged forward onto the knife he held at her throat.”

  The agonizing punch twisted Keiki’s head to the side. Her vision blurred. Vestiges of drugs preventing her from focusing also produced nausea which threatened to eject burning acid.

  “The cops have the flash drive.” She spit the words out seconds before another impact left pain graying the periphery of her vision.

  Maniacal glee overtook his mien in an instant. “Well then, I have no use for you.”

  His hands spanned the circumference of her neck and squeezed.

  Her thoughts went to Nolan, Coyote, and her departed friends, the latter, she wasn’t ready to join. Even Horace wagged his tail at her from the corners of her mind.

  Wrapping one hand over the other fist with knuckles pointing out, she formed a reinforced wedge shape to jam at his throat. Her position and weakened state produced little more than an irritant.

  He smiled, and in that study of evil, she saw her own death minutes before help could arrive.

  A crash from above and the tinkle of glass snapped her attacker’s attention to the window, now broken. He straightened to decipher the interruption.

  The distraction gained her the time to curl her legs into a ball. When he twisted back to face her, she kicked out and shoved him back.

  A few feet gained, allowed her to stand upright and perform Tucker’s maneuver to free her hands. She expected him to pull out a gun, or at least a knife, so was surprised when he strode to the object which interrupted his current undertaking like she were a helpless babe and no threat.

  “Damn. Interrupted by a drone.”

  His grin dictated he judged her intelligent enough to not open the door while the firefight outsid
e continued.

  At least in here I have a fighting chance.

  Collecting the device now lying useless on the cement, he snapped off each of the motors then tossed it back to the floor. His booted foot stomped the metal body and reduced her work to pieces.

  “Now, where were we? Oh, yes, eliminating evidence against my men.”

  “You don’t have the formula.” The flash drive equaled the ultimate bargaining chip in her mind. He was playing with her and would continue to do so as long as the guns signaled the fight in progress.

  “Ah, but you know how it is. Evidence in lock-up goes missing all the time. At least I know its location. That’s all I needed. I’ll even waltz out of the holding cell with it sitting in my pocket.”

  “You’ll spend time in jail for kidnapping.”

  “My men will have me out and on a plane before they know I’m missing.” He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck as if preparing for a much-anticipated event.

  Keiki’s gaze flicked around the small room but found no suitable weapon other than the remains of her smashed drone.

  His grin widened when he kicked several pieces to the side. “I do love it when they struggle. Please, don’t hesitate.”

  She didn’t know many self-defense moves. She was a college kid geared toward other pursuits.

  His leer broadcast intent to kill, with as much suffering as time allowed. When he rushed forward, she dove to the side and snatched up a broken metal arm. It was one she’d put together, six inches in length and a quarter inch round.

  Shuffling steps announced his approach from behind. With no time to stand, Keiki rolled to her back.

  When he reached for her throat again, she had a feeble plan, and prayed it could save her life.

  * * * *

  It’d been at least four minutes since he and Coyote had rushed inside and engaged in a firefight. Lack of planning could cost Keiki her life.

  The exterior door banged open, and reinforcements rushed in to take cover.

  The last combatant lowered his weapon and raised his hands at the same time his cohort dropped to the ground. “I’m done. I give.”

  Crimson bloomed on the downed man’s chest and froth bubbled from his mouth. His eyes closed on a cough then opened to stare into oblivion.

  Instead of cuffing the last gunman, Nolan nodded at his partner, leaving him to deal with the prisoner.

  “I’ll be there in a sec.” Coyote moved forward and gestured for the officers to secure the area.

  It was too quiet. From beyond the door, the shouting had stopped. Nolan darted toward the room and tested the knob.

  Locked.

  A murmur through his earbuds advised the drone had been destroyed, hence no visual access to give him a clue as to what currently transpired inside. Nolan took a deep breath, rammed a new magazine in his Glock after ejecting the old.

  The interior door was aluminum, sitting in a frame which wouldn’t withstand more than a few solid kicks.

  It only took one.

  Breaching the room granted a view that froze him mid-step, a smile spreading across his face.

  Keiki stood over her kneeling captor, her hatred locked onto her opponent, her frame tight. In her hand, she held a sharp piece of metal less than an inch from the prick’s left eye.

  Taking stock of her condition, he evaluated the bruises forming on her cheeks and the rips in her shirt. The possibility of them raping her hadn’t occurred to him until that second.

  Rage flooded his mind. If he didn’t get a grip on his emotions, they would feed her own and goad her into an action affecting the rest of her life.

  “Don’t do it, Keiki.” He didn’t step forward and didn’t make a sound as the air left his lungs in a whoosh. “If there’s a need, I’ll see to it.” Those words, spoken with casual restraint, committed his soul to a path he hadn’t determined with rational thought but meant just the same.

  “He killed Gabby and Shelly, and probably many more,” she seethed.

  Nolan holstered his weapon but remained at the door, blocking the entrance for other officers. The hand tapping his shoulder signaled his partner standing at his back. Coyote wouldn’t allow anyone to interfere.

  In prior circumstances, when stressed, her brain flicked a switch to flippancy. If her mind went there, and he couldn’t provide a redirect, he wouldn’t succeed in talking her off the emotional ledge.

  Nolan had dealt with hostile victims before, but never to one who owned a piece of his heart. The right words now failed him when he needed them most.

  “You don’t want this on your conscience. Trust me, Keiki,” Coyote’s voice rang clear, and dipped into the realm of southern gent.

  “How do you know what I want?”

  Nolan’s mouth dried, his fear for her an emotional wood chipper grinding his gut. If she killed this man, it would destroy her.

  Coyote was the one to delve through the murky waters of revenge. “Keiki, I was in the military. I don’t talk about it much, because it eats away at me every waking moment. I wake up nearly every night to screams and the sound of a single shot, then fall asleep hours later dreading their return. You don’t want that. I know. Please. Drop the weapon.”

  “He said he’s gonna walk out of his cell with the formula in his pocket.” Her hand shifted closer.

  “No, Keiki. He’s not.” Nolan’s thoughts stuttered at his partner’s confession. He’d known Coyote had enlisted out of high school and served overseas. That was the extent of his knowledge.

  It was difficult to witness the slight twitch of the dirtball’s mouth and hard glint in his eyes. The nonverbal proclamation declared the war just beginning with a pledge to even the score.

  “My new best friend here claims to be the local kingpin. Says he can do whatever he wants to anyone and get away with it. I think it’s time for him to experience a little of what he’s given.” Keiki patted the leader’s hairless dome. The grin sliding into place equaled a ball-shriveler and revealed cracks in her reality. “He needs a little convincing.”

  “He’s full of shit.” Nolan soft-stepped sideways so she had full view of the thug and the exit where Coyote stood guard.

  Keiki’s gaze slammed into him long enough for him to recognize the war waging within.

  “If I let him live, he’s gonna kill us. Maybe I deserve it, but you and Coyote don’t.”

  “I call bullshit on that one, kiddo.” Coyote shook his head at someone in the main room. He wouldn’t budge until his partner gave him the all clear.

  “Keiki, we’ve gone over the evidence. We’ve proven you had nothing to do with, and no knowledge of, the mess entangling your friends. You’re clear.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t be. If not for my drones, Shelly wouldn’t be dead. Her father wanted a sideline empire.”

  Sweat marbled Theo’s bald pate. Pure hatred emanated from every pore. “You’re a dead man, pig. Along with your little whore.”

  Her muscles bunched.

  “Keiki, don’t.” Panic produced a thin film of sweat on Nolan’s brow. “Keiki?”

  His heart beat harshly in his ears, the sound a death toll. If she carried out her threat, a part of her innocence would also die. “We have unfinished business, you and I. I’ve even marked your graduation date on my calendar. When that time comes, I don’t want the specter of this asshole between us.”

  Keiki’s concentration broke for a split second.

  “Your man’s right, ya know. Not to mention—that’ll be hard to work out if bars stand between you two,” Coyote added.

  Nolan glared at his partner.

  “He wanted to humiliate me. I think I’ll strip him naked, take a picture with a close up of his shriveled nards, and post it on social media. What d’ya think, handsome? Will folks need a magnifier to find anything interesting?”

  Red infused her captor’s face with spit seeping from the corner of his mouth. “You’re dead. You just don’t know it yet.”

  “Maybe I’ll take a vide
o of you doing jumping jacks and post it on a ‘Where’s Waldo’ site.” Keiki managed a humorless giggle and lasered a look on her captive. “Where you’re going, they’ll be dicks swinging everywhere.”

  “She’s heading for deep water, man. Reel her in,” Coyote murmured low.

  Her shoulders dipped a little, contradicting the energy and resolve coiled deep inside; a cobra preparing to strike.

  Another smooth step put Nolan in position to deal with Theo if he attempted to make a move.

  “I’ve got plastic cuffs here. I’m going to apply them while we decide what to do with this piece of shit, okay?” Without waiting, Nolan retrieved the restraints and zipped them around her prisoner.

  “Ooh, I hear in jail, some get real cozy with all kinds of inventive and kinky restraints. Shall I tell you what I’ve heard? It’ll give you something new to contemplate.” Something maniacal twinkled in her eyes.

  “Nolan…” Coyote warned.

  “Okay. He’s secure now, Keiki. See? He’s not going anywhere.”

  Preference dictated she relinquish the weapon of her own free will. Wild glints infiltrating her eyes mandated that time quickly passing.

  Her body tensed further when Nolan inched forward to get close enough to snatch the makeshift weapon.

  Anger and pain clouded her judgement at a time she needed clarity. In her heart, she’d know the right thing to do—if her inner demons didn’t goad her to draw blood and take a life.

  “She’s right. I will be free, and when I am, I’ll be coming for you both.” The prick smirked when he glanced over his shoulder.

  “The only thing that’s gonna be free is your ass, dickweed.” Her grin widened. “I’d even be willing to visit wherever you’re going. I’ll spread the word and make sure your future boyfriends don’t use lube.”

  Coyote cringed and rubbed his chin. “Damn. Nolan, your girl sure has a charmingly brutal side to her. I like it.”

  Nolan sneered. “He’s done either way. The how doesn’t matter to me. He’ll be kept busy.”

  In hopes of nudging the situation to conclusion, Nolan shoved the prisoner to his side and away from Keiki’s temptation, then watched as she shifted position to hover with her weapon ready.