Edge of Retribution

by Jacob Chance

  “Yes.”

  “Say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “Goddammit, say it right now.”

  “I survived?”

  “Get angry Zoe,” Nash demands. “These fucks are coming to kill us.”

  “Okay.” I wipe away the tear rolling down my cheek and exhale. “Tell me what to do.”

  “There’s my girl.” Nash stays low, slides over and quickly kicks each of the kitchen chairs into a pile just inside the back door. He shoves the table across the floor and it crashes into the already tangled mass of chairs. Spinning back around, he grabs my hand, pulling me in close. “Now you do what I say, when I say, nothing else. Got it?”

  “I got it.”

  “Stay close.” He stands with his gun at the ready, quickly leading us out of the kitchen and down the hall toward the back room. He holds his left hand up signaling for me to stop. Placing a finger on his lips, he turns and takes two steps into the bathroom on our right. I hear the muffled sound of breaking glass as he smashes a light above the sink and then returns to the hallway. “Let’s go.”

  I follow closely behind him until we reach the spare room at the end of the hall. Nash reaches back and swings his arm across my waist, guiding me to stand behind him. He steps in and clears the area, before motioning for me to follow.

  “What now?” I’m so frightened I can barely hold it together.

  Nash doesn’t respond. He moves to the empty closet across the room, opens it and pushes the attic access tile up through the ceiling inside. Next, he walks back to the door we came in, removes a handful of glass from the bulb he broke in the bathroom out of his pocket, spreading the shards on the floor in front of the door.

  He heads back to the closet and signals for me to follow. “Let’s go.” Nash holds out his arms as if he’s going to boost me up through the open ceiling panel.

  “I’m not going up there.” I try to protest quietly but my heart is racing painfully fast.

  “Shh. Yes, you are,” Nash insists. “Take this.” He pulls a small pistol off his ankle and shoves it into my hand. “Seven shots.” He darts over and opens one of the windows. “Don’t come out.” He quickly moves back to my side. “No matter what you hear.”

  “But…” I try to argue.

  “Get up there, now,” Nash orders in a flash of anger.

  There’s a loud crashing sound back out in the kitchen. Nash turns and bolts from the room without another word.

  I’m alone in the dark with men coming to kill me … again.

  Chapter Eight

  Nash

  They’re in the house quicker than I thought, but my gamble on the initial point of entry has paid off. I run a few steps up the hall and drop to my knees, sliding to the edge of the kitchen doorway and taking aim.

  “What the fuck?”

  I hear two thick Russian accents mixed in with the banging and slamming of the furniture I pushed into a pile by the back door.

  “Fucking chairs.”

  I see the green streaks of the laser sights on their weapons bouncing off the walls as they make their way through the makeshift barricade. I close my eyes, picturing the layout of the house. I need to anticipate the moment they’ll step into my line of sight.

  “Cocksucker.” They’re almost there.

  My timing needs to be perfect. I take a deep breath and spin around the edge of the doorway on one knee as they step into view. “Hey.”

  Two quick depressions of the trigger, two headshots, and they’re down.

  I’m running back down the hall when I hear another team coming in the front. There’s no time to get to Zoe so I duck into the closest bedroom, on the opposite side of the hallway. Leaving the door open, I stand behind it. I can see the spare room where Zoe is through the crack by the hinges, but I don’t have a clean firing angle. Before I can reposition I see two beams of green light dance across the walls. Two laser sights mean two targets and me without a clear shot, things just got messy.

  There are two of them, and they quickly pass as they clear the hall. A hasty push on the door and a peek inside was enough to satisfy them. If they only realized how close the door came to hitting me and revealing my hiding spot. Now they’ll never know.

  Straining, I follow them within my limited line of sight as they continue down toward Zoe. Thankfully another gamble has paid off and the guy in the point position steps on the shards of glass I left in front of the door. I may not be able to see them but now I know where they are.

  Stepping around from behind the door, I fire a bullet through the tail gunman’s skull as he starts to spin around. His body falls into the sidewall and bounces back straight into me. The other gunman doesn’t hesitate and begins firing up the hallway without a clear shot.

  I grab the back of his dead partner’s neck and drive forward using his body as a shield. Emptying my clip as I approach, I fire over the body, riddling his torso with eight, forty-five caliber rounds and dropping him where he stands.

  I reach for the door to check on Zoe and make a terrible mistake, failing to check for more hostiles. The bullet rips through my back, exiting below the collarbone, barely missing my heart. The gun spills from my hand as I stagger into the spare room and fall onto the floor. Blood pools under my head on the hardwood floor as I struggle to breath, instinctively reaching for my ankle holster in vain. I’m seconds away from...

  “Nash.”

  I can just make out her silhouette, before Zoe steps out from inside the closet, shaking and terrified by what she’s seeing.

  “No.” I wave her back, frantically pointing toward the door to let her know it’s not safe yet, someone’s still coming. She shakes her head in protest, but quietly steps back into the shadows and out of sight, inside the closet.

  “The girl.” A man dressed in black tactical gear, with a hooded mask over his head and a suppressed nine-millimeter in his hand, is standing in the doorway. I can’t help but notice he’s speaking perfect English with no accent.

  “Who the fuck are…?”

  He fires a shot, hitting me in the thigh, barely missing the femoral artery.

  “The girl.” He looks around the room before stepping over and placing the still hot barrel of the gun against my temple. “Last chance.” The blistering metal singes my skin and I feel him start applying pressure to the trigger.

  “Fuck you.” Inhaling a deep breath, I prepare to die.

  In this last moment I find my thoughts center on Zoe. I pray somehow, she’ll survive this to testify. I think about the past two months; about how stubborn she is and how much she’s come to mean to me. I think about her smile. I think about what might have been.

  Within seconds I hear the gun blast, but I don’t feel it.

  It takes me a moment to realize the barrel is no longer against my temple. My would-be assassin rolls to the floor. “What the fuck?” Our eyes meet and we both turn to see Zoe standing out in the open, holding the pistol I gave her. “You little bitch.” His gun is gone and he’s bleeding from a fresh bullet hole in his upper arm.

  Zoe pauses, shocked after firing the gun and looking unsure of what to do next.

  “Keep shooting,” I shout as I roll out of the line of fire.

  The last of the hit squad scrambles to his feet and rushes Zoe, who starts firing off rounds in a panic. He reaches her without getting hit again and slaps the gun from her hand.

  Zoe’s instincts take over and she delivers three quick spinning kicks, connecting with his knee, his ribs and finally his balls.

  Forcing myself up, I stagger toward them, as he grabs Zoe by the throat in a rage. “Motherfucking....” He tosses her straight back against the wall as hard as he can. “Bitch.”

  Zoe’s unconscious before her body falls to the floor and I’m on him before he realizes I’m up. I wrap him in a rear naked choke and drop us down onto the floor. He struggles, but I cinch my legs around his waist and squeeze my arms tight with every ounce of strength I have left. He’s well trained,
stays calm and doesn’t waste any time, reaching down and forcing his thumb into the bullet hole in my thigh.

  “Fuck you.” I grit my teeth, fighting through the pain. Blackness dots the edges of my vision like splattering paint and it’s all I can do to hold on. I’m growing weaker, my vision blurring, but I need to push through it, for Zoe. Moments later he begins to struggle less. His movements become sluggish and his body relaxes. He starts slipping out of consciousness.

  What I don’t notice is his hand reaching down, slipping a military combat knife from his boot. The blade pierces the flesh in my stomach, burying to the hilt as I scream from the excruciating pain. It feels like my insides are set on fire as he twists the knife, forcing me to release my hold and grab the handle to stop him.

  We spill apart, and I hear him gasping for breath while I attempt to get back to my feet. I shake the dizziness away and repeatedly blink to get my hazy vision to clear. Within seconds we’re circling each other, searching for an opening to attack. He stops moving when his eyes see the knife still protruding from my stomach. His shitty grin doesn’t last long as I reach down and slowly pull it free while he watches in disgust.

  “Nash.” We both freeze and look in Zoe’s direction to find her up and kicking the gun he dropped on the floor over to me. By the time I bend down to grab it he’s moving, but not in my direction. He’s spotted the open window and is across the room diving through before I can fire a single shot.

  “Are you ok?” I unsteadily turn back to Zoe. My raspy breathing becomes more labored with each passing second, rattling inside my chest. I’m cold all over and trembling uncontrollably. I know my body’s in shock and I’m not going to last much longer. It takes most of my remaining strength to keep all my focus on her. She’s the first woman I’ve ever loved, and she’ll be the last thing I’ll ever see. There’s an odd symmetry to that.

  “I’m ok.” She looks shaken but surprisingly steady as she moves toward me.

  Eagerly, I suck in another breath and take an ungainly step toward her. “You did great Zoe. You...did...great.”

  She rushes to my side as I collapse to the floor.

  Chapter Nine

  Zoe

  “Oh my God, Nash.” I fall to my knees beside him and feel his neck for a pulse. A sob slips out when I find one. It’s slow and thready, but it’s there. I press a tear stained kiss on his lips. “Hang on Nash. I need you.” I wrench the cellphone Karyn gave me for an emergency from my pocket and call her.

  “Zoe, what’s going on?”

  “Nash is hurt. We need an ambulance now,” I shout in a panicked tone.

  “Calm down. What happened?”

  “He’s been shot twice, and stabbed.”

  “Are there men in the house now?”

  “No, he took them out, except for one who escaped.”

  “What about the other agents?” Karyn’s tone is sharp.

  “I’m not sure. They never responded when Nash tried to contact them.” Oh God I’m a horrible person. I completely forgot about the two other agents. How did I forget them?

  “Put pressure on his wounds to slow the bleeding and stay on this line with me. I’m going to call for help from another phone.” Karyn’s voice pulls me back to the moment and the important task at hand.

  “Okay.” Glancing around the room, I look for something to stop the blood flow, but there’s nothing there. Setting the phone to speaker, I place it on the floor. Tearing off my sweatshirt, I spread the material over his torso, pressing down on the wound in his chest and the one in his stomach.

  Leaning forward, I apply direct pressure and send up a silent plea to God to please help Nash. Blood quickly saturates through the sweatshirt staining the gray material a dark red and coating my hands. He’s losing blood fast. My stomach lurches, bile rising up my throat, but I focus on my breathing and force it back down.

  “You’re doing great, Zoe,” Karyn encourages from the speaker as if she’s here, watching.

  Peering at the gunshot in his leg I notice it’s not bleeding much and what little there is, his jeans have absorbed. I’m thankful for this as I only have two hands to work with and his other injuries are taking the brunt of my full body weight as I lean into them. My arms are shaking and I’m perspiring from the exertion.

  “Hang in there. Help will arrive soon,” Karyn promises.

  Minutes later agents rush inside the house calling out to let me know who they are. They’re followed closely by an ambulance and I fall back once the paramedics begin working on him. Rubbing my bloodied hands on my leggings, I lean back against the wall. Without the solid structure behind me, I’m sure I would sink to the floor. My legs are weak and I’m shaking from head to toe.

  I can’t lose Nash.

  He’s come to mean too much to me. I won’t be able to make it through another loss, and his death would be on my conscience. He got injured protecting me. How would I survive that guilt?

  I follow behind the paramedics as they wheel him out on a stretcher and stand by helplessly as they load him into the ambulance. I want to climb inside with him, but I know it would never be allowed. I’m still under protective custody. Judging from what happened tonight, Popov doesn’t want me testifying and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to stop that threat. But right now, none of that matters. What little energy remains is focused on Nash.

  He has to be okay. He just has to. Any other option is too cruel to think about.

  The EMT closes one of the rear doors and places his hand on the other.

  “Wait,” I shout, hurrying forward. “Nash keep fighting. You’re gonna be okay,” I holler into the ambulance, before the EMT holds his arm out to block me.

  “Miss, you need to step back so we can get him to the hospital.”

  I nod, backing up on numb legs until I’m a safe distance away. My eyes remain on the ambulance until it’s out of sight and still I remain standing in place until the sirens can no longer be heard.

  God, please let Nash be okay. Please. Please. Please.

  “Zoe, honey.” Karyn places her hand on my arm and spins me around, before engulfing my small frame in a tight hug. “Thank God you’re okay.” Her hand caresses over the top of my hair as I sob in her arms. “It’s over now. You’re going to be fine.”

  I sniffle and draw back, wiping the slew of tears from my cheeks.

  “Can we get you checked out for injuries, please?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t need to be looked at. I’m not concerned with my welfare. I’m only worried about Nash. He got shot twice and stabbed protecting me. What if he doesn’t survive?” My bottom lip quivers and I whisper, “It will be all my fault.”

  “Don’t you even start thinking those crazy thoughts.” Her hands grip my upper arms. “Nash is an FBI agent and he knows the risks and dangers this job entails. Every day he goes to work prepared to lay his life on the line. That has nothing to do with you and don’t you assign blame to yourself.” She tightens her hold briefly and then slides her hands up to cup my cheeks, forcing me to meet her brown eyes. “You hear me?”

  I press my lips together, rolling them inward to stop the quivering and inhale deeply through my nose. “Yeah, I hear you.”

  Within hours I was tucked away at a new safehouse with Karyn and four other agents. Security was amped in preparation for the upcoming trial. I wouldn’t do them much good if I was dead. I tried to remain calm over the days that followed, but Nash was never far from my thoughts. Karyn insisted he would be okay, but she never went into detail about his recovery. I’ve voiced so many questions I never get answers for and I doubt I ever will. All I can do is blindly trust that the FBI is doing what needs to be done and pray I make it out of this alive.

  Part Two

  Chapter Ten

  Zoe

  Six Years Later

  Staring at the man on the computer screen has my eyebrows pinching together with disgust. Marius Popov, crime lord extraordinaire, the man responsible for the deaths of my pare
nts and two agents assigned to guard me looks back at me, smugly. He may not have pulled the trigger, but he certainly ordered their deaths. I knew Sergei and Karl wouldn’t rat him out at the trials and my parents were killed before they could finish compiling the necessary evidence to put them all away and shut down his operation forever. Now, it’s my mission in life to see Marius pay and retribution will taste so sweet.

  I couldn’t resist looking him up. As an FBI employee I have access to more information about him than I’ve ever known. Karyn told me when I first started that I could look him up, but I needed to let it go for now. But looking at the image of him on my screen has my stomach feeling unsettled. His picture taunts me as if saying I’m still here and what are you gonna do about it?

  “I’m going to find your ass one way or another and put you away like your hitmen. I’m coming for you,” I grit out the words as if he’s sitting across my desk from me. He’s rumored to have left the country. No one has heard from him in years, but I can’t forget. I won’t forget.

  “Are you talking to yourself again?” Karyn, my new boss, nonchalantly leans against the door jamb.

  “No, actually I was talking to Marius,” I mention, gesturing to my screen, slightly embarrassed she witnessed my threat. I’ve been working here for less than two weeks and I don’t need rumors spreading about my propensity for talking to myself - even if they would be true. Karyn has seen me in much worse situations and I take great comfort from that.

  She flashes me a quick smile and ambles over to stand beside my chair. Placing her hand on my shoulder she rubs her palm back and forth soothingly. “If he’s not already dead, his days are numbered, and we already discussed this on your first day. Let it go for now.”

  “I know.” Sighing, I cast away my discomfort knowing Karyn’s words are well intended, but I have my doubts about ever getting retribution. Today, is one of those days and I don’t try to hide it. “I hope you’re right. This bastard’s not dead. That would be too easy. You know, I never thought he’d still be out there after all this time.”