Fiancé by Friday

by Catherine Bybee

  “Told her that someone from my past was using her to get to me.”

  It came back to him now. The lack of surprise on Chuck’s face, the ease with which he accepted everything. His eagerness to expedite his departure. And damn it, Gwen’s hair was brown when they arrived at Fort Carson. Fucking brown, not blonde.

  “He’s not bluffing,” Neil told Rick.

  “How do you know?”

  “Chuck’s daughter is Annie. The major is calling the orders for our death. And he has my wife.”

  “Oh, no,” Rick said.

  They needed to finish this…

  “Figured it out, didn’t you, Mac?”

  “Hurt her, and you’re a dead man.”

  “I’m half dead already.”

  Let’s see if I can help you with the other half. Neil dropped to the ground and moved closer.

  “Back up, Mac. My finger is inching on this switch. Let’s let Blayney know he’s clear to take your woman out.” Mickey waved something in the air. Neil couldn’t tell what it was from his angle.

  “What’s he got in his hand?” he asked Rick.

  “Hard to say. Looks radio controlled. Could be a signaling device. Could be a detonator.”

  “What do you want, Mickey?” Time to change tactics. Let Mickey think he had their attention.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about. How about you and your sidekick here move on up to your perch. You know, the one you’ve been sitting on for three days looking for me from.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I call the boss and ask him what he wants me to do.”

  Neil backed up a few yards and moved slowly in the direction Mickey wanted him to go.

  “Feels like a trap.” Rick stated the obvious.

  “Probably booby-trapped our fallback. Stay wide.”

  “Why does Blayney want us dead?” Neil yelled.

  “Keep moving, Mac. I don’t see your ass on that ledge yet.”

  Neil stopped, looked over his head. If Mickey had been scouting them for three days, he probably could have come in closer sooner. Yet no shots had yet been fired. “Still think he needs to make this look like an accident?” Neil asked Rick.

  “More than ever.”

  “Move soldier.” Mickey’s voice rose above the rain hitting the leaves on the trees.

  “Tell me why, Mickey.”

  “How should I know? Wants you gone…wants Annie’s husband gone. Makes room for me.”

  Neil cringed. Blayney was playing Mickey, too. Probably planning on killing him as soon as he and Rick were out of the picture.

  “You stupid fuck,” Rick yelled. “Think Blayney’s gonna hand over his daughter to a gullible prick like you?”

  Rick’s words struck a chord. Mickey pivoted and fired off a couple of rounds in Rick’s direction. The air around them exploded, the noise raising every testosterone charged cell in Neil’s body.

  Neil took cover, cocked his weapon.

  “I never liked you, Smiley.”

  “Lousy shot, too.” Rick laughed.

  “Call your dog off, Mac. Getting rid of you isn’t an option. Your woman, however…Blayney might let her go. If she thinks you died by accident.”

  Neil’s mind raced…Would the major kill her? Neil didn’t think Chuck was capable of being behind this. There had to be something going on that Mickey had no idea about.

  One thing was certain to Neil. Keeping Gwen alive would be Chuck’s only insurance should Mickey fail. And Mickey was going down.

  “Draw him out,” Neil told Rick. “I’m moving in.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  The lightning let up long enough for Blake to touch down in Colorado Springs. His pilot dealt with airport security and arranged for the jet to refuel. Blake informed his pilot that they might need to leave at a moment’s notice.

  “I’m on the ground,” he told Carter as he searched the arrival lobby for the driver he requested to meet him.

  “I’ve arranged clearance for you at Fort Carson. It’s up to you now.”

  Blake waved at a driver with his last name on a large white card.

  “Any idea if Major Blayney’s on base?”

  “I didn’t get that information. The guards at the base will ask you what your business is. Tell them you need to speak with Blayney.”

  “And if he’s not home?”

  “Chances are they won’t let you in.”

  Blake covered the receiver on his phone to speak to his driver. “I’m on my way to Fort Carson. You know where that is?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Blake nodded and returned his attention to Carter while he followed the driver out of the airport.

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know…hit a local bar, ask around. Neil was stationed there for a while. Someone was bound to have seen him. Maybe know where he’d be holding out.”

  “Needle in a haystack.”

  The driver opened the back door to the town car and Blake slid into the seat.

  “Thanks, Carter. We’ll find them.” They had to.

  “Good luck.”

  He’d need it.

  The base wasn’t twenty minutes from the airport. Two guards in slickers stood at a closed gate, military rifles in their hands. Another man sat in a booth and watched as they approached.

  The driver rolled down both his window and Blake’s. The guard moved toward them without a smile. “How can I help you?”

  “I’m here to see Major Blayney.” Best to act as if the major was expecting him, he mused. Blake removed a business card and handed it to the soldier. “Governor Carter Billings arranged security clearance.”

  “Wait here, sir.”

  Blake sat back and watched the men. The soldier inside the booth picked up the phone and started talking. His eyes narrowed during his conversation and one of the other guards walked around the car while he wrote down the license number.

  Blake drummed his fingers on the seat beside him.

  The man from the booth stepped out and approached the car. The expression on his face unreadable.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrison. Major Blayney isn’t seeing anyone today.”

  Blake’s jaw clenched. “It’s a matter of life and death. Can you call him back and tell him this is regarding Neil MacBain?” This was not happening. To be so close and not be let in the door was unacceptable.

  The guards glanced at each other but their resolve didn’t change.

  “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do for you today. You might try setting an appointment with Major Blayney’s secretary.”

  Blake considered pushing out of the car and decided that would appear as aggressive as he felt. He didn’t need to spend a night in jail and delay his quest even more.

  Through clenched teeth he asked, “Is there a number I can call?”

  The guard returned to the booth, came back with a number.

  “One more thing…who is Major Blayney’s superior?”

  “On base? No one.”

  Great!

  “You really think Annie will take you back?” Rick taunted Mickey as he weaved through the trees, closer to the edge of the cliff.

  “Annie loved me.”

  “Not gonna go over well if you kill her husband.”

  Neil inched closer.

  “She won’t know it’s me.” Mickey twisted around. Neil ducked out of sight.

  “Blayney must be seriously twisted to sic you after him. What makes you think Blayney will keep you around after we’re gone?”

  Mickey was turning around now, having lost visual on Neil.

  “Where’d ya go, Mac? I’m telling you…one press of the button and Blayney takes her out right now.”

  As much as it killed him, Neil said nothing and kept moving closer.

  “Blayney doesn’t take orders from you, Mickey. You should know that by now.” Rick kept talking.

  “I’ve been proving myself to Blayney for years. Worked plenty of ‘loose end missio
ns.’”

  And we’re the loose ends. The rain aided in Neil’s advance. Mickey was facing north and Neil had managed to get behind him on the south. Twenty yards away, Neil set off another smoke bomb, causing Mickey to fire his weapon to the north.

  Rick spoke in his ear. “He’s nervous.”

  Neil set off his last bomb in an attempt to fill the area with smoke.

  He heard Mickey swear under his breath as he darted to the east, directly into Neil’s path.

  Neil waited until the last possible moment and aimed his weapon. “Drop it.”

  Mickey swung toward him, weapon raised.

  Neil aimed for his shoulder, fired off a round. Two more sounded in the rain soaked forest.

  Mickey jerked back, lost his grip on his gun. Adrenaline took over and Neil leapt onto the man and took him to the ground. His arm went back, connected with Mickey’s face once, twice. Blood gushed from Mickey’s arm, too much for a flesh wound.

  Neil disarmed him and rolled him onto his back. Neil flexed his neck tasting his rage and wanting the man dead. “You took out Billy.”

  Mickey’s mouth twisted into a sick smile. “Blew up his woman, too.”

  Neil let his fist fly again.

  “I should kill you right here.”

  Mickey coughed. A gurgling sound filled his chest. Neil looked down, noticed Mickey’s field jacket pooling with blood.

  What the fuck? Neil’s aim wasn’t that bad.

  “You never had the balls,” Mickey managed between his cough. Blood escaped his lips.

  Realizing his enemy was incapacitated, Neil tossed his gun aside and ripped open Mickey’s shirt. Blood was everywhere.

  “Is he down?” Neil heard Rick in his ear.

  “Yeah.” From the looks of the hole in his chest, Rick had taken aim from behind. Mickey was dying.

  Mickey stared beyond Neil, his eyes glossed over. “She would have taken me back. My Annie.”

  Neil didn’t have the heart to destroy Mickey’s last thoughts.

  “Where’s Gwen?”

  Mickey met his eyes, huffed out a breath, and stopped breathing.

  Neil squeezed his eyes shut. “You stupid fuck.” He pushed away from Mickey’s body and peered through the rain to see where Rick was.

  “Rick?”

  “I’m here.” His friend’s voice didn’t sound normal.

  “Where?”

  “Base of the cliff. Our target down?”

  Neil glanced at a man he once called his friend. He thought of the picture of all of them…in happier times. “Yeah. He’s down.”

  “Good.”

  “Where are you?” Neil didn’t see him anywhere.

  “Caught a bullet. I’m OK.”

  Neil ran through the brush, ignoring the branches as they slapped against his legs, his waist. He found Rick against a tree, his right thigh in his hand. “How bad is it?”

  “Not my gut.”

  “How bad, Rick?” Neil knew there were major arteries in the thigh that could end a man’s life just as easily as a shot to the chest.

  Rick attempted his signature smile. His second set of dimples didn’t kick in. “Could be better.”

  “Ah, hell.”

  “I’m OK. You gotta go get your girl. Before Chuck realizes what happened here.”

  Neil looked over at his car and then back to Rick. “I can’t leave you.”

  “You better fucking leave me. I’m fine, Neil. Go. I have a phone, I’ll call for help when you leave. Besides, I think this hillside is set up to go off. Mickey was trying too hard to get us up there.”

  Neil glanced at the cliff above him. Large boulders protruded from the sides of the rock. Large enough to crush those below. Getting Rick to safety, disarming bombs…police questions, all of this would take time. Precious time.

  “Go,” Rick told him again. “I’ll avoid your name until I hear from you. Don’t want to tip Blayney off.”

  Neil attempted to look at Rick’s wound to see for himself if his friend was all right.

  Rick shoved him away. “Go. Get the hell out of here.”

  He stood, and shoved his hand into his pocket. “If something happens, call Blake. Tell him everything.”

  “Go get Gwen and tell Blake yourself.”

  Neil shoved the card into Rick’s hands anyway. “Go, Lieutenant.”

  He nodded once, dropped his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t fucking die.” Tears swam behind his lids.

  “Get the hell out of here.”

  Neil didn’t have to be told again.

  Blake sat in the back of the town car a few miles from base. The rain slowed to a drizzle reflecting on his sour mood. He couldn’t remember the last time someone blew off a call from him.

  He made a call to the major’s secretary and ended up talking to an answering machine. He left an urgent message, with shameless name-dropping littering the recording. Not that it mattered. Blake would call out the queen and the president if it would do him any good in locating his sister and Neil.

  Minutes ticked by as impatience crawled up Blake’s spine. Carter was due to call anytime, hopefully to tell him that Max arranged his audience with the major.

  When the phone rang, he didn’t bother to look at who the call was from before answering it.

  “Carter?”

  “Blake?”

  Not Carter. “Neil?” His arms prickled and his mind went numb. “Neil?”

  “Listen, Blake. I don’t have much time.”

  “Where are you? Where’s Gwen?”

  Neil didn’t answer his question. “I need you to write this down. Are you listening?”

  The intensity of Neil’s voice was unlike anything Blake could remember hearing in the past. “I’m listening.”

  “I need you to call a Major Blayney at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs. Keep him on the phone.”

  “Neil?”

  “I need him distracted…you getting this?” Neil was rushed, not listening.

  “I’m three miles off base, Neil.”

  “You’re what?”

  “Off base. Carter located your last commanding officer. He won’t take my call. I came here looking for you.”

  Neil sighed. “Write down this number.” Neil rambled off nine digits. “His personal number. Call him. Keep him on the phone. I don’t care what you do…keep him on the phone.”

  Blake’s stomach turned on itself. “Where’s Gwen?”

  Neil hesitated. “Call him.”

  Blake’s body grew cold.

  Charles paced the floor above her head, his footsteps heavy and fast at times, slower at others. So slow in fact that she wondered if someone else was in the house. When the phone rang, she heard only one voice upstairs and it wasn’t someone new.

  Gwen leaned against the wall of the basement surrounded by Annie’s art and the Blayney household Christmas lights.

  She had no idea of the time, or what was happening above. To aid in her discomfort Charles cut the basement lights. He would have plunged her into darkness if not for the lights she’d managed to plug in herself. The laugh, as they say, was on him. Even the occasional squeak of a house mouse didn’t do much other than comfort her. She was alive, alert.

  Surely Neil would realize something wasn’t right eventually. Behind her back, she twisted the beautiful ring he’d placed on her finger. The way he’d opened his soul to her was fresh in her memory. He had to be alive.

  He had to be.

  She banished the thought of anything bad befalling him and waited for Charles to make his next move.

  The hours waned on, forcing her eyelids to close for short periods of time. Equal parts of her wanted something to happen, and for nothing to occur. The longer she sat in the basement the bigger the chance of something awful happening to Neil.

  And that threat was a larger psychological torture than being locked in a basement with a madman as her jailer.

  Her eyes were closed when she heard a lock click at the top of the stairs
. The lights above her head blinked on, making her wince away from the sudden glow.

  “What the?” Charles flew down the stairs faster than she could reach for the gun hidden on her leg. She managed to scramble to her feet, her eyes wide as he made a quick assessment of her basement decorations.

  “What have you done?”

  “Maaa miii elfff aa hoom,” she attempted to say under the gag in her mouth.

  Charles was on her in seconds, the back of his hand slammed against her face and knocked her to the floor. Pain awakened her brain.

  Charles stood over her, ran a hand calmly down his neck, stretching it. The only evidence of his anger of a moment ago was in the way he flared his nose as he drew in a breath.

  He lifted her from the floor with one hand, and slammed her against the wall.

  Stars flew in her head.

  “Enjoy yourself?”

  Gwen attempted to move her head away from his stare. He didn’t allow it. She gave in and stared him down. Every ounce of hatred filled her gaze. She’d spit at him if she could find an ounce of moisture in her mouth.

  He grasped her chin in his fingers and squeezed. “Your brother came.”

  Her heart kicked in her chest.

  “What does he know?”

  She mumbled behind the gag. Charles placed a finger between the material and her cheek and forced it from her lips.

  “What?”

  The ability to move her jaw together felt like heaven, regardless of the fact that the devil held her against the wall. Her dry tongue touched the roof of her mouth as she attempted to find moisture.

  “What does he know?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He slapped her again. Moisture in her mouth came by way of a split lip.

  Tears sprang to her eyes with the pain, but she refused to let them fall.

  “What does he know?”

  “I haven’t spoken with him.”

  Charles moved closer. She wasn’t sure but she thought she smelled tobacco on his breath. “He knows you’re here.”

  What could she say…she had no idea how Blake had found her. “Where is he?”

  Charles let his hand slip to her throat, reminding her how easily he could snap it if he chose.

  “On his way here.”

  Hope sprang in her chest.

  “You make one noise, one squeak down here and I’ll kill him. You got that?”