Escape from Danger

by Linsey Lanier

  Ignoring her question, Ponce headed toward the room again.

  “He’s not in there,” she called out, trying to sound whiny and disgusted.

  Ponce kept going. He stepped inside the little room and came out a second later, dragging Alejandro by his hair. “Who is this, then?”

  Fischer narrowed his eyes at the boy. “This is not one of mine. Who is he?”

  Ponce turned Alejandro around and studied his face. “I do not know.”

  Fischer’s cold gaze turned even colder. “Have you been hiding something from me, Ponce?”

  Ponce’s lip curled. “How dare you accuse me of that?”

  The leader and his henchman were about to have a fight.

  Now was their chance.

  Simon took two quick steps toward Fischer, did a high kick against his arm and knocked the gun out of his hand.

  Furious, Fischer spun around, his fist flying toward Simon’s face.

  Simon ducked backward, sidestepped, and kicked Fischer in the ribs.

  Amazed, Janelle wanted to watch, but she had her own job to do. While Ponce was distracted, she jumped up from the floor and hurled herself at the giant. Time for some street fighting tactics she’d seen Steele perform. Using her leverage, she grabbed his arm with both hands and flung her body around his back with all her might.

  His arm twisted around his back with a sickening crunch. He let go of Alejandro, and the gun flew out of his hand.

  “Dios mío,” Ponce cried out as he collapsed to his knees.

  Holding his arm with one hand, Janelle straddled the monster and beat at the back of his head with her fist as hard as she could.

  She thought she’d almost knocked him out when she heard Fischer shout.

  “Let him up.”

  She turned her head and saw Simon on the floor, his hand to a bleeding lip. Fischer had a weapon in his hand again. Simon’s gun lay near the back of the first settee. He must have drawn it at some point, but hadn’t been able to keep it.

  What had happened?

  Ponce groaned and got up, and she slid to the floor.

  He picked up his gun and grinned viciously as he pointed it at her. “I will make you pay for that, Señora.” He peered down at her and suddenly recognition spread over his face. “You. I know you. The woman in the air vent.”

  Fischer let out an annoyed grunt. “What are you talking about, Ponce?”

  “She was spying on us at Casa Ale last night.”

  “Who are you?” Fischer demanded.

  “FBI,” Simon said before she could think of an answer. That was close enough.

  Simon got to his feet and brushed off his clothes with an air of confidence she certainly didn’t feel. “Forgive the cliche, but you realize that means you won’t get away with this.”

  Fischer chuckled. “Of course, I will. I have enough money to make it worthwhile for any law enforcement agency to look the other way.”

  “I don’t think so. We’ve been watching you for months. We have tons of evidence against you. You’re going down, Fischer.” He turned to Ponce. “If you help us, we may be able to get clemency for you. And for any of Fischer’s men.”

  Ponce seemed interested for a moment. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  Simon dared to take a step toward Fischer. “Who’s your contact in Athens? The one you’re paying now?”

  Simon’s boldness took Janelle’s breath, but Fischer only glared at him.

  “Is he Donovan Santana’s replacement?” Simon demanded.

  Surprise flashed across Fischer’s face. “How do you know about Santana?”

  “We took him down last month.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You don’t watch the newscasts from the states? Santana attempted a coup. It failed. He’s gone.”

  “He’s lying,” Ponce insisted. “Kazan would have told us.”

  Kazan. The new man in Athens. They had a name. If they lived long enough to use it.

  Fischer paused for a moment to process the news, then smiled. “Thank you for the information, Mr. Rodriguez. Or should I say Agent Rodriguez? It doesn’t matter who’s in charge. The operation extends far and wide. We go on and on. No one can stop us. Least of all you two.” Nodding toward Simon, Fischer turned to Ponce. “Shoot him and toss his body in the river. Tell Gomez to sell the boy to the highest bidder tonight.”

  Obediently, Ponce moved over to the end of the settee where Alejandro had been hiding and grabbed him by the hair again.

  The boy was silent, but his face said he was terrified.

  Fischer crossed the floor to Janelle, picked her up by one arm, and held his gun under her chin. “Her, I’ll do something else with. She should fetch a high price with one of my clients who appreciate a beautiful woman.” Slowly he drew the muzzle of his gun across her cheek. “Maybe I’ll keep her for myself for a while. Until I tire of her.”

  Janelle shivered with revulsion. Dear God. How were they ever going to get out of this mess?

  Suddenly Alejandro’s shrill voice shot through the air.

  “No! You cannot hurt them.” The boy jammed a foot down on Ponce’s shoe, broke away from him, and scurried over to Fischer. Furiously he began kicking at his shins. “Leave her alone.”

  Squawking with sudden pain, Fischer let go of her and lowered his gun. “Get this filthy brat away from me.”

  Janelle hurried away toward Simon, who was now near the corner where the open packing crates were. She hadn’t stopped to pick up their weapons and now she saw both of them were too far away.

  Alejandro kept kicking Fischer. “They are my friends. And my father is Inspector Torres of the police.”

  At last, Ponce pulled the boy away, his legs still going.

  Fischer rubbed his shin and smiled. “Is he? Now that’s interesting.”

  That was all they needed. Now Fischer would go after Torres using Alejandro. That kind of leverage against the police department would give Fischer the free reign throughout the city he claimed to already have. She was about to threaten Fischer with a long jail sentence when she felt Simon brush her hand.

  She turned to him and saw him glance down at the corner. At the floor.

  Of course. And just now Fischer and Ponce were distracted.

  But they had only a few seconds to act.

  Following Simon’s lead, she hurried to the crates with him as fast as she could.

  She picked up one of the pry bars the crew had left behind and rushed across the carpet to Fischer. Just as he spun toward her, she lifted the bar like a baseball bat, and swung with all her might.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Simon do a similar move on Ponce.

  She felt the reverberation to her shoulders as the flat of the bar smacked Fischer across the face, on the opposite side of his cheek scar. Blood started to ooze from his face.

  He fell limp to the floor.

  Ponce fell over on top of his boss. What a sweet couple they made.

  Letting out a stunned breath, Janelle lunged for the gun Ponce had knocked out of her hand, while Simon reached for his weapon.

  Simon nodded toward Alejandro. “We have to get out of here and get him to safety.”

  She blinked at him. What had happened to their plan? Weren’t the police supposed to rush in now? Earlier would have been better.

  “Where’s Torres?”

  Simon’s expression turned to alarm. “Where are the other boys?”

  Before Janelle could answer, the walls began to shake.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “What’s that noise?” she said in a shaky voice.

  It was a loud steady hum, and getting louder.

  “I don’t know.”

  She rushed to the windows and pulled back the heavy curtains. Finding the latch, she flung open the glass doors and stepped onto the balcony.

  The balcony was large and wide and encircled by a lovely stone balustrade. Under light beams coming from so
mewhere above, she could see trees in the distance and a manicured garden beyond the rear parking lot that was like something from Versailles.

  The noise was louder out here. And familiar.

  She looked up into the night sky where the beams shot through the darkness, and her chest went tight with terror. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe.

  The light was coming from a helicopter.

  Helicopter.

  Had the men from Patagonia found them? Had she and Simon lived through this ordeal only to be killed by them?

  But slowly the chopper pivoted, its side came into view, and she caught sight of the insignia it was bearing.

  Policia.

  The police. Not the men from Patagonia. Not someone Simon had trained with there years ago. The police.

  Torres was standing in the helicopter’s open hatch, his wavy hair swirling in the wind from the propeller. Beside him was Diego and the other boys.

  “They must have gone up to the roof.”

  Beside her, Simon pointed into the air. “The chopper picked them up there, thank God. And they haven’t retrieved the ladder yet.”

  True enough. In the spotlights the aluminum steps dangled in the air like a long matinee necklace.

  “Look out.”

  Janelle stepped back in time to miss a shot that came from below. Daring to peek over the stone banister, she saw Gomez coming up the stairs.

  A shot came from the opposite staircase.

  “Carrizo’s approaching from the other side,” Simon called out and fired down the stairs.

  She fired on her side and missed.

  Simon came up behind her. “Only one way to go.”

  She looked up again.

  Torres had seen they were in danger. The helicopter dipped down toward the balcony, dropping its ladder as it went.

  In the doorway, Torres had grabbed a megaphone. He shouted something stern in Spanish, then repeated it in English.

  “Police. You are surrounded. Put down your weapons now.”

  Of course, Gomez and Carrizo ignored him and fired again.

  The ladder was just above their heads now.

  Simon picked up Alejandro and settled him on the lower rungs.

  “Go.”

  The boy scampered up the ladder as agile as a spider monkey.

  Simon held the ladder for her. “Your turn.”

  “Okay.” She swallowed hard, hesitating.

  “You’re too brave to have acrophobia.” His voice was suddenly tender.

  She’d never been a fan of heights, and this wouldn’t be easy in her silver wingback heels, but it was the only option.

  She shook her head. “I’ll be fine.”

  She put her foot on the first rung, and up she went. Up, up. Don’t look down. It would be okay. Focus on the helicopter. Not on the way the ladder was swinging and turning her stomach to jelly.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  It was true. Simon’s voice was close. And the chopper’s open door was getting nearer. She could see Torres waiting for them up above. Alejandro was already safe inside.

  And then the police inspector’s face went dark.

  Another shot came from below.

  She dared to look down. She saw Simon just below her, and Gomez and Carrizo on the balcony, their weapons drawn.

  They’d made it up there and weren’t finished.

  Simon fired back and missed.

  Gomez took another shot. It whizzed past her head.

  “We’ve got to get out of range,” Simon shouted.

  She nodded and tried to climb faster, but her skirts and her heels were slowing her down.

  And then she looked down again and saw something else.

  The glass doors of the salon opened, and a huge man stomped onto the balcony from inside. She recognized him instantly from the picture she’d seen last night. The Ukrainian.

  Slava Zakhar. Aka El Puño. The Fist.

  Fischer was behind him, blood still on his face. Somehow he’d recovered from the blow she’d given him. And now Ponce was with them, too. He seemed woozy, but he wore a look of fierce rage.

  He wanted revenge. They all did.

  But what was most terrifying was the weapon Zakhar was carrying. It was a huge gray tube. It looked like a shoulder-fired rocket launcher. She didn’t know what its range was, but she was sure it could blow the chopper right out of the air.

  She watched in terror as Zakhar pulled down a flap on the back of the weapon, extended the rear of it, and heaved it onto his shoulder.

  “Policia!” Torres called through his bullhorn. “Put down that weapon.”

  Zakhar didn’t comply. Instead he took aim through the gun’s sight.

  Janelle glared down at Simon. “What are we going to do?”

  He didn’t answer. He had holstered his gun and was pulling something out of his pocket. She could barely see it in the chopper’s flashing lights, but it looked like a roll of candy.

  “What are you doing?” she called to him, feeling frantic.

  “Something I should have thought of before.”

  Astounded she watched him work a piece of something out of the silver paper with one hand and wedge it between his finger and thumb.

  And then she understood. Or thought she did. “Is that gum?”

  He gave her a cocky scoff. “We don’t use gum. This is a breath mint.”

  He gave it a lick, took careful aim, and tossed it onto the balcony.

  The men there watched it bounce once on the stone floor and fly into the glass doors.

  There was a moment of silence that seemed endless.

  And then the whole side of the building exploded and burst into flames.

  The loud boom, along with a horrendous sound of glass smashing and stones cracking rang in Janelle’s ears. The ladder swayed from a whoosh of heat from the flames. The smell of burning flesh sickened her.

  Down below the police who had been climbing up the stairs turned course and got away from the blast, while the chopper ascended, pulling her and Simon away from the force of the fireball.

  Dazed, her ears still ringing from the explosion, she stared down at the spectacle and it started to sink in. Fischer and his men were gone.

  And then she saw Simon smiling up at her. “Home free.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  As soon as the helicopter touched down in the yard beyond the parking lot, Torres put a man in charge of five of the boys. And then he hustled Janelle and Simon, along with his son and his friend, Diego, away and into his unmarked car.

  Janelle was glad the inspector understood she and Simon couldn’t afford to be questioned by the police or the reporters who had gathered at the fiery scene, which was now overrun with fire trucks and police cars, their sirens screaming into the night as they arrived.

  With Alejandro and Diego sharing the passenger seat beside him, the inspector drove down the quieter side streets until they reached the Beetle.

  “There she is,” he said gently. But he wasn’t talking about the rental.

  A few spaces down from it, a woman stood beside an older car, hugging herself and looking worn and anxious.

  Torres pulled over to the curb, and as soon as he braked, Diego shot out of the car and ran to her.

  “Mama! Mama!” Janelle heard the boy cry, along with a string of Spanish.

  Smiling, she got out of the vehicle.

  The woman bent down to hug her son and broke into sobs.

  “My Diego. My boy. I have you back at last.” She ran her hands over his face and hair, as if she were trying to convince herself he was really there.

  She cried a little while longer and then rose and turned to Torres who was standing on the sidewalk watching her with a tender smile.

  “Inspector Torres, how can I ever thank you? You have given me back my son, my life.”

  “No need to thank me, Señora. It is our job.”

  Our job. Meaning her and Simon. It was all the recognition he could give them, Janelle
knew. But they didn’t need recognition. The look on that mother’s face gave her enough satisfaction to last a lifetime.

  And as she turned and caught the expression Simon was wearing, she knew he felt just the same.

  “Thank you. Thank you, again.”

  “Just take your son home and be happy together.”

  “Yes, I will.” Diego’s mother started to put her son into her car.

  “I will see you in school next week,” Alejandro called out to him.

  “Si,” Diego grinned. “We will go to the park in the afternoon and play futbol.”

  “You can be Messi.”

  “No, you should be Messi. He is the greatest and so are you.”

  Torres chuckled. “Whoever is Messi, I think I will be coming to the park to keep an eye on both of these rascals.”

  “I will see you there,” the woman smiled and got behind the wheel.

  As Diego and his mother drove away, Alejandro turned to his father. “Are you really coming to the park after school, Papa?”

  “Of course, I am. I need to make up the time I have lost with my son.”

  “Hurray!”

  Torres bent down and they shared a tight hug, making Janelle’s heart melt even more.

  After a moment, Torres rose again. “Now say goodbye to Señor and Señora Rodriguez and get in the car. I have something to tell them.”

  “Adiós,” Alejandro said, waving to them. “Thank you for saving me from the bad men.

  “Likewise,” Simon chuckled.

  Then the boy hurried over to Janelle and gave her a big hug, too. “I will never forget you, Señora hermosa.”

  That made her tear up again. “I don’t think I’ll forget you, either, Alejandro.”

  “And if you ever run into any more bad men, remember to kick them like Messi kicks the ball.”

  That made her smile. “I will.”

  And with another quick hug, he turned away and climbed into the car.

  Janelle turned back to Torres to find him studying her and Simon intently.

  “What do you have to tell us, Inspector?” Simon asked before she could.