Jackie and Monroe helped Holden into the dimly lit living room. He was finally able to bear his own weight, although completely unsteady on his feet. They allowed him to collapse onto the sofa within the living room, where he lie motionless and panted from the short journey into the house. Monroe looked at Jackie and appeared irritated with her.
“This is a mistake,” he announced. “We should’ve dumped him at the hospital when we had the chance. He’s going to be a problem.”
“You can help him, Monroe,” she pleaded and begged with her eyes. “Please.”
He maintained his disapproving glare then groaned while pointing a warning finger at her. “You owe me,” he scoffed. “Take off his jacket and shirt. I’ll get my field kit.”
It was only twenty minutes later. Holden appeared to fade in and out while Monroe cleaned and stitched the bullet graze along his upper arm. Jackie cleaned his head and face lacerations.
“Definitely has a concussion,” Monroe remarked. “You’ll need to try to keep him awake.”
Monroe applied plastic, surgical strips to the gash on his temple. They mimicked stitches in effect. Jackie placed her hand on Holden’s and stared at him as he faded in and out of consciousness and possibly reality.
Monroe sharply glared at her. “Don’t do it, Jackie,” he suddenly warned. “You can’t keep him.”
“I don’t want to keep him,” she protested while casting a glance at her friend. “He’s a prick, but he nearly died tonight. I’m allowed to feel sorry for him.”
“Feel sorry all you want, but don’t get attached,” Monroe snapped hotly. “He’s going back to the pound in the morning. We can’t take him with us.”
“I know.”
Monroe straightened and collected his pile of bloodied supplies. “I need to change for my date,” he remarked. “Keep an eye on him.”
Jackie nodded and watched Monroe leave the room. She stared back at Holden, who remained mostly out now, and gently caressed his hand.
“Holden, can you hear me?” she asked softly.
There was no response. Jackie released his hand and gently touched his face.
“Holden?”
His eyes rolled open and closed without response. Jackie leaned over him while caressing his face. She hesitated a moment, kissed him gently on the lips, and then placed her head to his bare chest. She felt responsible for nearly getting him killed. Just one more dead man to add to her growing list. Holden placed his arm around her, startling her. Jackie lifted her head and looked at him. His eyes remained closed.
“I’m not dead yet,” he muttered softly, sounding more like himself. “Where are we?”
“We’re safe at a friend’s house.”
“Monroe?”
She suddenly felt alarm sweep through her. “How did you know his name?”
“I heard you say it right before you kissed me,” he replied softly.
“I didn’t kiss you,” she insisted as the color rushed to her cheeks. “You’re imagining things.”
His eyes opened briefly, as he attempted to focus on her. “Did you call me a prick?”
She grinned in response. “Just a little one.”
Holden’s eyes shut and he appeared to be out again. Jackie gently tapped his face and squeezed his hand.
“Holden?”
There was no response. Monroe was heard on the stairs. He entered the living room in expensive clean clothing with his usual stylish flare. She gave him a quick once over.
“Where are you off to?” she asked.
“To bail a friend out of jail.”
“You won’t be able to bail him out,” Holden muttered, surprising both. His eyes remained closed.
“Yeah, well, our definitions of ‘bail’ varies greatly,” Monroe casually informed him. He then looked at Jackie. “After I bail out our friend, we’re going to make arrangements for tomorrow, so I won’t be home until late morning. There’s a hurricane huffing and puffing just off the coast, but it’s not supposed to hit the island. Will you be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“Help yourself to snacks, drinks, and a small arsenal of weapons in my bedroom closet.”
As she stared at her friend, she could feel pangs of relief that she’d finally reached him. “Thanks, Monroe.”
Monroe leaned down and kissed her quickly but warmly on the lips. He offered a pleased smile then left.
“How often do you handcuff him to the bed?” Holden asked with his eyes closed then grinned at his own comment.
“None of your business.”
Holden chuckled softly then immediately groaned with discomfort. He took her hand in his and gently caressed it. Jackie stared at him as he held her hand and smiled. She hated the way she felt about Agent Falcone. She had hoped those feelings would pass like with so many other men, but this was different and she still didn’t understand why. Jackie rested her head on the sofa near Holden and felt her eyes grow heavy.
†
Three years earlier. Jackie stood alongside her father at the private airfield as Abbott checked over the older plane. He eyed Jackson and appeared humored.
“Old Marge, huh?” Abbott teased. “Nothing newer? A sexier model, perhaps?”
“Not for your first time out,” Jackson replied with a cheap grin on his face.
“You never did like to share your toys,” Abbott remarked then indicated the plane. “Well, what are we waiting for?”
Jackie looked at her father and smiled innocently. “So is it okay?”
Her father groaned then looked back at Abbott. “Do you mind if Jackie rides along?”
“Mind? Of course I don’t mind,” Abbott replied. “The more witnesses to my act of valor, the better.”
“I call point,” Jackie cried out with delight.
Jackson rolled his eyes then looked at Abbott. “It’s okay,” he announced with defeat. “I’ll ride in the back.”
Abbott’s expression dropped slightly, although he attempted to cover with a tiny smile. “Maybe I should ride in the back,” he remarked, seeming a little tense. “You know, in case you need to assist Jackie.”
Her father snorted a laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Jackson replied. “Jackie’s been piloting small planes since she was in diapers. Soon she’ll be moving on to commercial airliners. She’s more than capable of getting us out to the old airfield. Once there, we’ll get you in the pilot’s seat and give you a crash course in flying.”
Jackie rolled her eyes. “Oh, Dad, those puns are getting old fast.”
Abbott didn’t appear convinced but nodded his acceptance. Only a few minutes later, they were airborne. Jackie enjoyed flying the older plane. She was loud, and she was cranky. All three wore pilot aviation headsets in order to communicate with one another above the roar of the engine. Abbott sat rigid in the co-pilot’s seat, obviously nervous about his young pilot. Jackie knew it wasn’t that he was sexist. The men from her father’s SEAL team had accepted her as one of the boys a long time ago. She was sure he was just uncertain about her flying abilities. Little did he realize she was a better pilot than her father was. They were only halfway to the deserted airfield when Abbott fidgeted and seemed oddly uncomfortable.
“You know,” Abbott finally spoke after near silence the entire flight, “it’s nothing personal.”
Jackie glanced at him with surprise to his remark. She didn’t understand what he’d meant until she saw the gun in his hand held close to his chest. It was aimed at her. She met his gaze and stared with alarm.
“Abbott--?”
Her father was alerted to the conversation, noting the look on Jackie’s face. He attempted to lean forward to check out the situation. Abbott aimed the gun at him. The look on his face conveyed he was serious.
“Just sit back and relax, Commander,” Abbott growled.
Jackson tensed and slowly sat back without taking his eyes off the man holding the gun.
“What’s going on?” Jackson demanded.
&nb
sp; “Just a little change of plans,” Abbott informed him. “We’re not going to the abandoned airfield.”
“Where are we going?” her father asked, seeming unusually calm.
Jackie already knew something bad was about to go down, and it wasn’t going to end well for any of them.
“I need an exit,” Abbott informed him. “I need to leave the country before certain people catch up to me, and you’re going to help me.”
“What people?” Jackson demanded.
“Just people,” Abbott replied. “That’s all you need to know. Just do as I say, and you’ll both live to fly another day.” He handed Jackie a paper. “Here are the coordinates.”
She glanced at the paper, stared a moment with surprise, and then handed the paper to her father behind them. Jackson looked at the coordinates then back at Abbott.
“This won’t take you out of the country,” her father announced boldly. “This will take us to Washington, D.C.”
Abbott stared at him with a look of surprise. “Wow, you decoded that pretty fast.”
“Yes, that’s why I’m a lieutenant commander,” he snarled while keeping his eyes on Abbott. “We’re not flying you to Washington for some suicide mission.”
“What makes you think it’s a suicide mission?”
“I know my men, Abbott,” Jackson replied firmly. “I know you had a difficult time with PTS. We can get you help, but I can’t do that with you pointing a gun at me and certainly not at my daughter.”
“I’m going to do a lot more than point this gun, Commander,” Abbott announced in an icy tone. “You’re going to fly to those coordinates or one of you is going to eat a bullet.”
There was an awkward silence. Jackie watched the tense scene from the corner of her eye in silence. Abbott aimed the gun at Jackie, keeping it close to his chest so Jackson couldn’t disarm him before he would squeeze the trigger.
“What’s it going to be, Commander?” Abbott demanded.
Jackson finally looked at Jackie. His look wasn’t that of defeat but that of the Navy SEAL she rarely saw.
“Jackie, take him to Washington,” her father announced firmly. “Take ‘old Marge’ down to conserve fuel, if we intend to make it there. You’ll want to bring her around in a buzz saw.”
Jackie held her breath, kept her eyes locked on the countryside before her, and fiddled with a few switches.
“Yes, Commander,” she replied faintly and accepted her new orders.
Jackie inhaled deeply and flipped another switch. The propeller suddenly slowed and the engine shut down. Abbott looked around with surprise then to Jackie. She sharply turned the control wheel to the right, sending the plane spiraling. Abbott cried out with surprise and attempted to hold on despite his shoulder harness. He aimed the gun at Jackie and squeezed the trigger. Jackie held her breath and kept the plane steady in a spiral. Her father leaped for Abbott from the rear and attempted to take the gun from him. The gun fired and a bullet struck the control panel. The panel smoldered. The gun fired again as the men struggled for control over the gun in the spinning plane. Jackie kept the plane spiraling until the gun flew from Abbott’s hand. She corrected the spin and immediately restarted the engine. The engine sputtered as lights flashed and alarms sounded. She fought to level the plane before the engine seized altogether. Old Marge was tough, but she’d given it her all and had nothing left. Her father released his safety harness, lunged forward, and punched Abbott in the face several times.
Abbott only got in one shot, being restricted by his safety harness, but it was enough to send her father into the backseat. Abbott immediately dived on Jackie, attempting to force her to crash the plane. She managed to punch him away from her, his seatbelt restraining him from getting any leverage on her. She saw the lake up ahead and feared crashing into it. Abbott released his safety harness and attempted to jump on her. Jackie sent the plane to the right, tossing him against the door. As he attempted to recover, she partially turned in her seat and kicked him in the chest, throwing him backward and against the door. The door gave and Abbott plummeted from the plane. Jackie struggled to regain control of the now rolling plane. Her father weakly climbed into the co-pilot’s seat, strapped himself in, and engaged the controls on his side to assist her. They leveled the plane as the engine continued to sputter. Jackie looked at her father fighting the controls alongside her. She saw the large amount of blood on his abdomen. He’d been shot!
“Keep her steady,” he shouted as they fought the controls and the failing engine. “We’ll need to find a clearing and glide her in for a landing!”
“You’ve been shot,” Jackie cried out in panic.
“I’ve been shot before,” he launched back at her. “Land the plane!”
Jackie continued to fight the controls as the engine suddenly seized. There was an eerie silence. She saw a clearing just beyond some trees. They were going down, and that’s where she was going to land.
“Up ahead,” she yelled to her father.
As she fought to keep the plane in the air long enough to reach the clearing, she looked over at her father. He was slumped in the seat with the harness holding him upright. Jackie stared at her father with horror then looked back out the windshield. She needed to clear the trees. The plane struck the tops of the trees and teetered wildly. Jackie fought the controls, but she was coming in too hot. The plane struck the clearing with incredible force, tearing the wheels off the bottom. Jackie was thrown violently within her seat. She felt several contact points of pain as the sound of tearing metal echoed loudly throughout the cockpit. Jumbled images turned to darkness.
Chapter Twenty-nine
It was early the following morning. Jackie’s dreams had been a roller coaster of never-ending, emotional sequences involving her father and, at times, Holden. Several times throughout the night, she had woken from a bad dream involving Holden’s death and had to check that he was still alive. Jackie remained asleep on the floor alongside the sofa with a throw pillow under her head and a quilt over her, where she had been all night. She jerked awake from yet another nightmare and wearily looked around the dimly lit room. The sofa was empty! Jackie jumped up with alarm and hurried through the house. If Agent Falcone did something stupid, Monroe would never forgive her. She entered the kitchen and suddenly stopped before the glass deck doors. A look of horror swept over her as she stared at the black, violent skies and high, crashing waves. Water from the massive waves reached almost halfway across the sandy beach to the house.
The wind blew harshly and the rain poured down while objects violently blew across what remained of the beach. Jackie backed away from the glass doors, quickly turned, and nearly collided with Holden. He appeared fresh from the shower and wearing Monroe’s clothing. His face was a little battered, but otherwise, he looked like he was ready to go a few more rounds with Dexter. Holden looked past her with the same concern on his face to the raging storm just outside.
“So much for the hurricane not reaching the island,” he commented.
Jackie stared at him in Monroe’s expensive clothes. That Monroe wore his clothes slightly loose was to Holden’s advantage, giving him the extra room he needed so they’d fit his larger build. He noticed her gaze upon the clothes he wore. A tiny grin crossed his face.
“I’m sure your friend will be a little pissed about me borrowing his clothes, but I figured fuck him,” Holden remarked and proudly gave the jacket a slight tug to straighten it. “They look better on me anyway.”
Jackie wasn’t sure where their current situation was about to lead, but she needed to remain casual if it became necessary to outwit him. It was best just to play along for the moment.
“He has expensive taste in clothes,” she replied matter-of-fact. “He’s like a girl that way.” She indicated the frightening storm beyond the French doors. “Would you check the weather and see where that storm is heading? I’m going to take a shower before we lose power.”
“I can tell you where that storm is heading
,” Holden replied with little emotion. “Right through us. You’ll want to make that shower a quick one.”
She again looked outside and felt panic sweeping through her. He was probably right. She’d never seen the sky look so black and threatening.
“I don’t suppose this place has a basement,” he remarked, lacking enthusiasm.
“It’s a beach house,” she casually reminded him. “A basement would be considered an indoor swimming pool. The house is on stilts.”
“Then you’d better hurry,” Holden remarked. “We’ll need to reach higher ground within the hour.”
Jackie nodded and hurried for the stairs. She ran up the steps with more on her mind than just the storm. Holden was acting too casual. He was up to something, and whatever it was, it was probably already set in motion. She knew for a fact that Monroe didn’t own a landline phone, so he wasn’t able to make any phone calls that way. She needed see if their cell phones were still in her duffle bag, which was in Monroe’s bedroom. She entered Monroe’s bedroom and shut the door behind her. She removed her duffle bag from under the large bed and unzipped it. Both cell phones were gone as well as Holden’s shoulder holster. Jackie tossed her duffle bag back under the bed and hurriedly opened Monroe’s closet to reveal a wardrobe of expensive clothes.
She pushed the hanging clothes aside and opened a secret back panel to reveal an extensive gun cabinet containing a range of handguns and rifles. Monroe’s personal arsenal. Jackie removed a small revolver from the cabinet and placed it down the back of her pants. Whatever series of events were about to unfold were already set in motion by whomever Holden had called that morning. Now Jackie had to do some serious damage control concerning Holden. What pissed her off most was she couldn’t even call Monroe to warn him, since Holden obviously had both his and her cell phones. She closed the gun cabinet, keeping it hidden, and then paced the bedroom for nearly ten minutes. She contemplated her next move while also keeping an eye on the raging storm outside. She finally left the bedroom with the worst plan in history. Direct confrontation.
Jackie took the stairs quickly but quietly, in case Holden was waiting to pounce on her as she had him so many times. From her hidden position at the bottom of the stairs, she saw him in the kitchen. He was casually leaning against the counter with his hands on either side behind him. His expression conveyed that of deep thought. She wondered if that was guilt for whatever it was he had done that morning. Jackie decided to take a more aggressive approach to catch him off guard. She stormed into the kitchen and confronted him.
Witness Protection Page 17
