The Edge f-4

by Catherine Coulter

  I was floating now, and it was very strange to be staring down at a large man, and I knew the man was me, only he was just lying there, his eyes closed, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. Then I knew he was me because suddenly I couldn't breathe. I was dying.

  Then there wasn't any more pain, just a gray-white void that didn't go anywhere. I was cold. That made sense, I was naked. I wanted covers but couldn't seem to move my arms.

  I felt fingers on my forearm, soft fingers, loving fingers, fingers so gentle I wanted to see who they belonged to. It became more than that. I had to know who was touching me like that. I forced my eyes open, forced myself to look through the gray-white, to find the person whose fingers were so gentle, so tender.

  I saw Jilly standing over me, looking both frightened and angry. Why would she be frightened? Or angry?

  It made no sense at all. I had to know. I concentrated with everything in me and whispered, "Jilly? You're all right. Thank God. I've been so worried about you. Why are we here, Jilly? Where are we?"

  She just smiled down at me and lightly touched her fingertips to my cheek. "It'll be all right, Ford. Listen to me now. You're coming out of it, very soon now. No, keep your eyes open, Ford, listen to me. You mustn't drink or eat anything. Do you understand me? Don't even drink out of the tap. Nothing."

  "Laura, Jilly? Where is she?"

  "It will be all right, Ford. Laura's here. Get strong, Ford. Just lie still and get strong."

  And then her fingers left my arm. When I looked up, she was gone. The gray-white void thickened around me until I disappeared into it, just eased into it and let it swallow me. I wondered why I wasn't cold any longer.

  I opened my eyes and realized that no one was standing over me. I felt clearheaded, but so hungry I could have eaten just about anything. I shook my head. What had happened? "Laura?"

  I saw her lying on her side on a folded blanket on the floor beside the bed I was lying on. She was naked, just like I was. I was down on the floor next to her in an instant, panicked. "Laura?" I lightly pressed my fingers against the pulse in her throat. It was strong and steady.

  I knelt over her, wondering what the hell to do, then wondering where we were. Something was very wrong here but I just didn't get it yet. I lightly stroked my hand over her shoulder and turned her onto her back.

  "Laura," I said again, and leaned down to kiss her mouth. Her lips were dry. She was so pale. "Laura," I said, and watched her eyes slowly open.

  I saw the scream in her eyes and quickly pressed my palm against her mouth. "No, be quiet. I don't know what's going on here yet. Are you all right?"

  She looked confused, her brows drawn together. Her long hair was in tangles around her head. "Mac," she said at last, and her voice sounded beautiful to me.

  "It's all right, sweetheart. We're both alive. I just don't know where or why. Somebody stripped both of us naked."

  She didn't move, didn't try to cover herself. I saw her draw in a deep breath and knew she was searching for control, for something to latch onto, something that made sense.

  "I saw a man, standing behind you. He was just there, suddenly. I never heard him coming. And he sprayed something at me. Before I went out, I saw him strike you on the back of your head. I don't remember anything else. I want to get up now, Mac."

  I gave her my hand. She was looking at me and I realized that I was hard again. I was embarrassed and frightened as hell. Pain was one thing, but not knowing what was real and what wasn't, that was beyond anything I'd ever experienced in my life. God, I hated it.

  I turned away from her, grabbed a blanket off the bed, and wrapped it around my waist. There was only a dingy sheet for Laura. I pulled it off the small bed and handed it to her. She wrapped it around herself, tucking in the ends over her breasts.

  She sat beside me on the bed. "I'm dying of thirst," she said, not looking at me but down at her bare feet.

  I said without thinking, "We're not going to drink anything at all. Not even tap water." "Why?"

  I turned to face her. I lifted her hand and held it between mine. She leaned forward until her cheek was touching my shoulder.

  "Listen, Laura. Jilly came to see me. She's here. She seemed upset. She told me not to eat or drink anything."

  "Jilly, here? But when could you have seen her, Mac?"

  "I don't know but it makes as much sense as you and me being here, wherever here is."

  "It means she is involved," Laura said finally. "You see that now, don't you, Mac? If she was really here, with you, then she's in on all of this, somehow." "Yes, I know," I said. "They've got us again, haven't they? What are we going to do?"

  But how did they have us again? They just walked up to us and turned off the lights? What was going on here? Was it all somehow planned with a drug whose effects diminished, then came roaring back?

  I stood and began pacing the twelve-by-twelve room. "We've got to find Sherlock and Savich," I said over my shoulder. "We know they're real."

  It was odd but even though I was walking around and speaking to Laura, I knew that somewhere inside my brain something still wasn't right. I remembered reliving that horrible few moments in Tunisia, how it had somehow been magnified.

  I looked over at the tap in the small sink. Neither of us was going to touch another drop of water, at least not in this place.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  What about the food? Jilly hadn't said anything about food, had she? Yes, she had, I remembered. I looked down at the plate of steaming rice, tortillas with small pools of melted butter, and the small bowl of beef in some sort of red sauce. I held out my hand and stopped Laura from using her fork.

  "We just can't take the chance. They could put drugs in the food as easily as in the water." I smelled those tortillas and wanted to curse, which I did under my breath.

  Two men had stood in the doorway, their weapons pointed right at us, as a young girl, not more than twelve years old, looking so scared I thought she was going to pass out, brought us the meal.

  "There's something else," I said, and got to my feet. I gently put the two trays of food on the floor. "Let's look around again for cameras or listening devices. There weren't any last time, but who knows?"

  We didn't find anything. Even so, I kept my voice down. "We need to get ready for any opportunity, just like the first time."

  "Can we be so lucky again? There were two guys this time with AK-47s." She looked over at the toilet.

  "The porcelain lid is gone."

  "I never said they were stupid. We'll have to find something else. We do have an advantage here."

  "I'd bet the farm that they put drugs in the food and water. Someone will come sooner or later to see how we're reacting. It won't occur to them that we wouldn't eat or drink anything. They'll be expecting us to be out cold or having sex on the floor or whatever the hell else this drug does to you."

  Her shoulders were slumped. I'd never seen her look so defeated. "Laura, listen to me. Our brains will straighten up again. No more drugs. We're pros. If anyone can get out of this place, we can. Now, come here and hold me. I'm feeling a bit off balance right now. I need you."

  She came to me, clutching the sheet over her breasts. She didn't say anything, just held me against her. I felt her kiss my bare shoulder.

  Suddenly I was so pissed I could have easily killed the first person through that door. I kissed Laura and set her away from me. I got up and tore off a leg of the bed. My blanket fell off but I didn't pay any attention. I hefted that leg. It made a solid club. I handed it to Laura. "Hit me if I try to take you down again. Please, I'd much prefer that to being kicked."

  She took the club and hefted it. Then she smiled at me. "Give me a bad guy instead."

  It was such an excellent weapon that I took off another leg for myself and swung it around a bit, liking the solid weight of it in my hand. I smiled at Laura, standing not six feet away. She still had that old threadbare sheet wrapped around her, her hair was in tangles, and she looked r
eady for anything. The woman was tough. I realized then that she wasn't looking at my face. I picked up my blanket and wrapped it around me again.

  "You're the best, Laura," I said. "I can't imagine having a better partner. Now we wait again."

  We waited.

  We dozed. Since there were no windows, we had no clue if it was night or day. There was a lamp in the room and it gave off a sluggish sixty-watt light.

  The sound of at least three pairs of boots thudding on the wooden floor snapped me alert. I couldn't wait to get a shot at the bastards.

  I raised a finger to Laura. She nodded. I could see she was ready. I wondered if she was as angry as I was, and imagined that she was.

  The door handle turned. There wasn't a sound. Both Laura and I were staring at that turning knob.

  A woman wearing a white lab coat stepped in. She had a small silver tray in her right hand. I moaned loudly and clutched my throat.

  She came down to her knees beside me, and I moaned again. But I was looking behind her at the same two men who'd accompanied the breakfast or lunch or whatever meal it had been. When the first man came through the door, his gun was down because he was staring down at me and the woman. I grabbed her under the arms and threw her at him. She yelled as she hit him squarely in his AK-47.

  He screamed out the other man's name: "Carlos!"

  Carlos was through the door in an instant, the weapon raised to mow me down. Laura rose up behind him, and the club came down in a hard, graceful arc against the side of his head. His eyes bulged. Blood poured out of his mouth, then he fell against the door. The other man had gotten his AK-47 free of the woman and was swinging it up. I wasn't in a good position. I managed to roll to my left side and kick up as I moved. My foot struck the weapon but didn't knock it from his hands. He fired two rounds, a loud, obscene sound. One bullet smashed into the floor beside my head, spewing splinters of wood into my arm and chest. The other bullet struck the woman. I heard her cry out as I gained the leverage I needed.

  I kicked him solidly beneath his chin at the same time Laura clubbed him in his kidneys.

  His eyes rolled back in his head and he went down like a stone. I slowly rose. "These guys were serious."

  I knelt beside the woman. The bullet had struck her forearm. She'd be all right. I told her in Spanish to be still. As for the two men, all I wanted from them were their clothes.

  Laura went right to the smaller man and stripped him. We both tucked the legs of our fatigues into the boots at about the same time. I saw Laura lean down next to the woman. "What is it?"

  "Look," she said, raising a pistol, a Bren Ten, a 10mm automatic that held eleven rounds.

  "The woman had it on her tray along with some needles and bottles. I haven't seen one of these guys for a long time. It's a good combat weapon."

  I grabbed the two small vials on the tray.

  "Good idea," she said, smiling at me. "You ready?"

  I turned left and stopped cold.

  "What's wrong, Mac?"

  "Just an attack of deja vu," I said, and slithered out the door. We left the men completely naked and tied up as best we could with strips of the bed sheet Laura had been wearing. Laura had tied the woman up with her underwear.

  "Let's go to Molinas's office," I said. "If there's someone there, we can force them to take us to Sherlock and Savich."

  We passed a window. It was dark outside, and that was good. How much time had passed?

  The office was empty. They'd boarded up the glass windows behind the desk. "Maybe they've hidden a phone," I said, and began opening drawers.

  Suddenly I felt dizzy and unfocused. I just stood there, waiting to see what would happen. Was this death coming? A numbing cold overwhelmed me. I felt it chewing at the edges of my brain. My heart pounded.

  Laura was staring at me, her hand out. I knew she was talking but I couldn't make out her words. To die like this, I thought, as I went to my knees.

  I wasn't dying. It was the drug again. I fell back against the wall. I saw Laura over me even as I sat there, my head to one side.

  She was shaking me as hard as she could. "Mac, listen to me. I know you can hear me, you're looking at me. Blink at me. Yes, that's right. Whatever's going on in your head, you've got to control it. We've got to get out of here."

  I looked over at the glass windows. They weren't boarded up. The glass was solid, whole. And I wondered: Did we really crash through it the first time?

  "Mac, blink at me again."

  I evidently did because she started speaking again. Her voice was low. She was close to me. I could feel her breath on my face.

  "I want you to raise your hand now, Mac."

  I looked down at my hand lying limp on the floor. I looked and looked at it and then I thought, Just raise your damned hand. My hand came right up. I cupped Laura's face with it. "Whatever it is, it's going away. It's a weird feeling. Laura, we didn't use anything when we made love at Seagull Cottage. If I made you pregnant, I don't want you to worry about it, okay? We're going to get married. It'll all be okay."

  She grinned at me, leaned down, and kissed my mouth. It was a sweet kiss and I felt it throughout my body, and the feeling was healthy and real. "I'm better," I said.

  "Good. I want you to stand up now, Mac. Do you think you can do it?"

  I felt the journey of coming back into myself, of retaking control. I doubted in that moment if I would ever again even willingly take an aspirin. There is nothing more terrifying than losing control of your mind.

  I got up. I stood staring at the boarded-up windows. "My memory went haywire. I felt numb and everything was different. This damned drug is a killer." "Let's find Molinas, Mac." I picked up my AK-47. I felt strong again. In control.

  But for how long this time?

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  I was frankly surprised when we went through a corridor on the far side of the office and found ourselves in an antique-filled bedroom. The man we believed to be Molinas was sitting on the side of a bed, leaning over a woman. Not a woman, she was young, perhaps eighteen. She had a white sheet pulled to her chin. Thick, shiny dark hair fanned around her face on a white pillow.

  Molinas hadn't heard us. All his attention was focused on the girl. He was wearing black pants, a loose white shirt, and his bald head gleamed beneath the mellow bulb just above the bed.

  He was speaking quietly, but I couldn't make out his words. I watched him stroke her hair, lean down to kiss her. He continued speaking in a low, warm voice even as he straightened again. I couldn't tell if he was speaking Spanish or English. I saw the girl's hand come up and lightly touch his shoulder.

  I nodded to Laura and pointed to the Bren Ten she held lightly in her right hand. She frowned a moment, then reluctantly handed it to me. How could she know what I intended?

  "Take the girl, Laura," I whispered. She nodded again. I left my AK-47 on the floor just outside the door. We went as silently as we could into the still air of the room. It smelled sweet in the bedroom, a vague rose smell. I didn't like it. It was cloying.

  He was completely focused on the girl, leaning over her, speaking. My boots creaked. I froze, but he didn't move. What were they talking about?

  I gently pressed the Bren Ten against his left ear. "Hello," I said. "Como le va?"

  The girl was sitting up now, pressed against the bed's headboard, her eyes wide, silent as death. She was terrified.

  I felt him coil then relax again. He said, "If you kill me you'll never get out of here alive."

  "It won't matter to you, Molinas," Laura said very calmly.

  "How do you know who I am?"

  "Who else would they send down here?" Laura asked. "You were assigned to keep us. As for all the fun you had with us, that was your own idea, wasn't it?"

  "Some of the men are animals. I protected you."

  I looked over at the girl, who still clutched the sheet to her throat, her narrow hands clenched. I said in Spanish, "Don't be afraid. We're not going to hurt you." />
  Slowly she nodded and said in perfect English, "Who are you?"

  "My name's Mac. What's yours?"

  "Marran."

  Molinas moved and I gave him all my attention. "Keep an eye on her, Laura."

  I came down beside him and raised the pistol. "You're going to take us to where you're holding the other two agents."

  "They're dead," he said.

  "Then so are you." I pressed the pistol against the side of his mouth and cocked it.

  "No, don't," he choked out. "They're not dead, I swear it. I'll take you to them."

  "Did you drug them like you did me?" "Yes, but not in the same way. They're all right." "You'd better hope that we agree. Now, I want you to get up real slow."

  "We should probably bring the girl along," Laura said.

  Molinas lunged for me as he rose, but I brought the pistol down on the side of his head. The girl groaned.

  Laura clapped her hand over the girl's mouth, pressing her head back against her pillow.

  Molinas went down but not out. He landed on his knees, moaning, holding his head. I knew the pain must be bad, the bastard.

  "If you try that again, I'll kill you." I said it in a near whisper. I didn't want the girl to make any more noise. I thought about hauling her with us and decided it wouldn't improve our odds. We'd leave her here. I opened my mouth to tell Laura when I saw that she'd already begun ripping up the sheet. I waited for her, keeping the tip of the Bren Ten against the back of Molinas's head. The girl was silent now. I saw tears running down her cheeks.

  "Who is she?" I asked Molinas, who was still holding his head in his hands.

  He tightened like a spigot in January. "Touch her, you bastard, and I'll rip your head off your shoulders." I believed him.

  It took Laura a few minutes to tie the girl firmly. I noticed she had skinny arms. They were pale with sharp blue veins running beneath her flesh. Her beautiful shiny hair streamed across her face. Laura smoothed it back after she'd fastened the gag in her mouth.

  I hoped Molinas could walk. I started to help him to his feet. He snarled at me and made it himself. A proud man, I thought. I looked back at the girl, who was staring at him, her eyes large and frightened.