You are Mine

by Lisa G Riley

  “But he did kidnap Jack and Tracy last year,” Caroline argued.

  “He had them kidnapped, and those charges would be good for a start, but if he tried something here, it would make the case against him even stronger. The hope is that once they have him in their custody, they’ll be able to turn someone in his organization. Of course, I don’t like the idea,” Brian admitted with a sigh, “because I want you out of danger as soon as is humanly possible. But -- ”

  “But the safety would be tenuous at best,” Caroline said, feeling her stomach drop suddenly with trepidation once again, “because there’s a possibility that they would have to let him go because of lack of evidence and then maybe he’d come after me again. And if he does, we’d be in the position of being at square one for a second time.” Tension straining her spine as she thought about all they’d been through, she said so passionately that the words came out as little more than a whisper, “I don’t want to start all over again. I want our lives back!” No one was more surprised than she when tears sprang suddenly and her voice broke. “Damn it! I want our lives back!” She blinked back the tears but they could be heard in her voice as she said angrily, “So, yes, let’s lure him in and set him up! Fuck him!”

  Brian covered her balled fist with his hand and squeezed. “That’s right: fuck him. You keep that happy thought until we actually do.” He rubbed her shoulder. “You all right?”

  She nodded. “I’ll be better once this is over.” She looked at both men. “So, now we wait.”

  “Now we wait,” Brian agreed quietly.

  Eyes narrowed, Jae inclined his head. “Let’s do this shit.”

  ***

  FROM a mile and a half away, Brickman took the binoculars from his eyes. “Unfortunately, I can’t read lips, but if I had to go by body language, I’d say they’re expecting us. Ms. Singleton appears to have had a small tantrum, and they were on that terrace for two hours, about thirty minutes longer than usual, as if they were waiting for someone.”

  “So, what do we do now, boss?” Ivan asked as he took the binoculars and put them in their case.

  “Well, they’ve finally gone in and if them turning off the lights is any indication, they’re in for the night. We’re going to stick to the second plan I came up with. We’ll strike early in the morning when I think they’re getting ready to go. They will at least be distracted at that time with checking out and all that that involves. Right now they’re surely on guard and will most likely be so for most of the night and into the morning, thinking I’ll strike in the dark. Well, we’ll get them right at dawn.” He turned to the second man with him. “Where is this empty house you’ve secured for the night for us, Jasper?”

  “Up the road a piece, boss, north of here. Your brother is already there.”

  Brickman frowned at the mention of Jonathan. He’d felt that in order to get his brother to come and behave he had to remind him that if he went down, he’d bring him down right along with him. Jonathan hadn’t responded and had only snatched up his jacket and left the room. He believed he could bring his younger brother in line again; he just didn’t have time to do it now. “When this is all over, I’ll take care of him,” he muttered.

  “Sorry, sir?” Jasper queried. “I didn’t quite hear you.”

  “Lead the way to our lodgings, Jasper. We’ve got a busy dawn ahead of us, and I need to rest up for it.”

  ***

  “COOP.”

  “Jack. How are you?” Cooper had been expecting to hear from Jack Winthrop. He’d heard through the grapevine that Jack was looking for information about Paragon, and he’d known that it would only be a matter of time before he reached him.

  “I’m fine. Cesare. Who is she?”

  Cooper didn’t even pretend not to know her. “Sorry, but you would need a security clearance that you don’t have in order for me to share that information.”

  “All right. White hat?”

  Coop hesitated, and sensing it, Jack pounced, “Let me put it this way. Her safety in the situation on Mackinac, which I damn well know those jackasses that you work for are damn well aware of, depends on your answer.”

  Coop bristled. He knew his bosses’ decision not to share nicely with others would come back to bite him in the ass; that wasn’t the problem. “Are you threatening her, Winthrop?” he asked quietly.

  “Not a threat. You know as well as I do that it’s important to know who the players are in any fight and just who they’re fighting for.”

  “Let’s just say that this thing with Brickman isn’t her fight, so she shouldn’t be involved.”

  Jack was quiet for no more than a few seconds, and then, “Ah, so you’ve got a rogue in your midst. Went off the reservation, did she? Either way, we both know that by making contact with the Keenans, your girl made it her fight. So my information needs have not changed: is she still a white hat, or has she abandoned the reservation entirely?”

  Coop swore quietly. If Cesare had been standing in front of him at that moment, he would have cheerfully strangled her. “There’s been no abandonment,” he finally told Jack. And to ensure that Jack knew without a doubt that she shouldn’t be touched if it could be helped, added, “on either side.”

  “I’ll let the Keenans and my man on the ground know that she was trying to help. Of course we’re grateful to her for the heads up, Coop, but she sounds like she needs to be reined in.”

  Coop hung up, angrier than he could ever remember being. No, Cesare was not supposed to be involved with the Brickman debacle, whatever it was, but he had no idea if she was or not. She’d turned off her phone, so he’d been forced to go to the hotel. And, of course she was no longer there.

  Chapter Twelve

  Upstairs bedroom, Masco Cottage, 5:59 a.m.

  “I certainly wish he’d hurry up and get here if he’s coming,” Caroline muttered as she tossed her makeup kit in her suitcase and shut and locked it. Nervously, she picked up her gun, made sure the safety was on, put it back in her purse, pulled it out again…put it back. “At least the storm has ended,” she said to Brian, who was checking the room to make sure they hadn’t left anything behind.

  “Yes, but it knocked the fucking power out.”

  “Well at least we had the forethought to get those hurricane oil lanterns at the store yesterday when we heard about the storm.” Brian only grunted in response, and Caroline sighed. They were both working on frayed nerves. Neither one had slept during the night and they were worried about their home. Brian had thought to call Jack and ask him to have the house checked on just in case Brickman had gotten in, and Jack had called back to report that he apparently had broken in, and had trashed the house.

  After hearing that, she’d again found herself fighting back tears. This would make the second time that mad man had invaded her home. The first time, when Brian and she were dating, someone had actually died and she hadn’t been able to face moving back in after decamping to Brian’s while cleanup took place. The condominium had gone on the market immediately after the cleanup. “Well, we’re not moving this time,” she decided.

  She looked at Brian. Normally, his six foot frame projected an air of confidence and prowess, but while both traits were still there, tension and fear could also be added to the list. She walked over to him and rubbed his back. “Didn’t count on your skinny old lady being such a heavy burden, did you?”

  He smiled and pulled her into his arms. “Oh, I knew what I was getting,” he said fondly, his chin resting on her head. “A damsel in distress wrapped up in this beautiful package. Knew it and went for you anyway. I couldn’t resist.”

  “Not sure I like the whole damsel in distress description,” she murmured as she burrowed in and took comfort in his familiar scent, “but I guess I’ll put up with it.”

  “Well, you weren’t in distress when we first met,” he conceded. “At that point I just knew I had to have you, or find myself a moor somewhere to wander, all the while howling at the moon, and wondering futilely
what fresh hell I’d brought upon myself by letting you slip through my fingers.”

  Caroline raised her head and shook it at him, a wry smile on her face. “Both Emily Brontë and Dorothy Parker in one sentence? Geez, you are stressed.”

  “Hush,” he said and pushed her head back down. “I’m not finished. Now where was I? Oh yes, crazy-assed Brickman suddenly entered the picture deciding for some unknown reason that he just had to have you. It’s been trying, but I never once considered giving you up.”

  “Never?”

  He didn’t answer, but lifted her chin and seeing his intent, she stood on her toes to meet his mouth. Slow and methodical, the kiss was all the more intimate for its comfort and reaffirmation. Eyes closed, Caroline sucked gently and briefly on his seeking tongue, before slipping her own into his mouth where he did the same.

  They broke from the kiss and he rested his forehead on hers. “I’m going to go downstairs and get Jae so we can check the rest of the house, all right?” he whispered.

  Eyes still closed, she nodded and pursed her lips in mute request for another kiss. When he obliged, she pushed back from him. “Go on, do your manly-man thing. I’ll be down in a minute.”

  A quick grin flashed across his face and he patted her butt suggestively. “You and I know which manly-man thing we’d both rather I be doing right now, but unfortunately the other has to take precedence for the time being.”

  She snickered and pushed him away. “Go!” she commanded laughingly. The humor disappeared abruptly when he snatched up his gun from the dresser before heading out.

  ***

  OUTSIDE perimeter, Masco Cottage, 6:04:00

  Barely able to contain his excitement over the knowledge that he was finally going to get even with his brother for what he’d done to him, Jonathan studied Alex as he awaited his next orders. They, Ivan, Jasper and another lackey named Darren were yards from Masco Cottage, once again going over the best way to achieve access.

  “All right, boys, the sky is starting to lighten. Ivan and Jonathan, you take the front and Jasper and Darren, you take the back. I’ll make my entrance once one of you gives the all clear.”

  Make his entrance. Jonathan refrained from shaking his head in disgust. His brother talked like this was some sort of Hollywood production. “Hell, he may as well have said ‘I’m ready for my close up, Mr. Demille’,” he muttered in a low tone. That had been the problem all along. In his brother’s mind, he was above the fray, a fray he’d created. He never usually got his hands dirty, coming in after all the smoke had cleared. Or in his mind, Jonathan thought snidely, coming in dramatically through the smoke, as if it were a scene that called for London fog and him looking mysterious in a trench coat and a fedora.

  “What did I just say Jonathan?” Brickman asked coldly, making Jonathan jump guiltily. He tried to snatch parts of the conversation he heard from the ether, and then remembering that they’d already been over this a half dozen times and that his brother never varied the order of things, said, “You were saying how it has to be a coordinated attack, and that time is important.”

  “Timing, baby brother,” Brickman corrected. “Timing is crucial so let’s make sure your watches are synchronized.”

  As you wish, Ms. Desmond, ma’am. Jonathan saluted his brother and then pretended to look at his watch. Looking up again, he caught Ivan’s gaze and gave an infinitesimal nod.

  ***

  MACKINAC Island State Park, 6:04:30

  CESARE kept her crouch behind a stand of bushes and using her scope, watched the five men carefully. She was trying to decide if she should just kill Brickman outright or call the police and have them arrested. Killing him makes the most sense, of course. And he’d be easy enough to pick off from here. She checked her magazine to make sure it was loaded, and then patted the pockets on her flak jacket to make sure she had the extra clips.

  Though camping in the state forest wasn’t allowed, she’d spent the night there, holing up in one of its caves with a sleeping bag and rain gear. She hadn’t been able to resist coming back. After delivering the note warning the Keenans, she’d turned to look back and had seen Caroline cupping her stomach in that way pregnant women are prone to do. Just that one glimpse had reminded her of her own mother and her mother’s three sisters. Caroline had a similar build and skin tone, and seeing those things had made Cesare long for home and the nurturing culture of the women folk of her family.

  She couldn’t go home of course, but she’d grown sentimental and thought if her mother or one of her aunts were in danger she’d want someone like her looking out for them. And being her mother’s daughter, she also felt the same sense of sisterhood with Caroline that she always felt for other black women, whether they felt it or not.

  After leaving the island, she’d closeted herself in the hotel’s business center and had hacked into the Chicago Police Department’s computer files. She’d thought about hacking into the FBI’s files or even her own agency’s, but it would have taken longer. Breaking into the CPD’s system hadn’t been a piece of cake, but it had been close to child’s play. What she’d found had made her even more determined to go back to the island. She knew Cooper would do more than read her the riot act as he’d done the day before, but she was prepared to take the consequence.

  So here she stood after a night of barely sleeping and nearly freezing to death, trying to decide if she should just shoot the little bastard and put everyone out of their misery. Squinting, she put a figurative bead on the back of Brickman’s head.

  “Hola, putita. Sabía que si era paciente desee mostrar sus verdaderos colores.”

  Cesare froze and then rolled her eyes before turning to face the threat.

  ***

  LOWER level, Masco Cottage, 6:05:49

  “Want to double check the back of the house?” Jae asked Brian, approaching him as Brian left the dining room on his way to the front door.

  “No, I’m sure you’ve taken care of everything,” Brian told him as he neared the front of the house, “but you could do me a favor and check those windows there while I get the others. I know we did this last night, but you never can be too careful.”

  “Sure,” Jae said and abreast of Brian now, turned left while Brian turned right.

  And suddenly all hell broke loose as the door exploded inward. “Cover your ears, close your eyes,” Jae yelled right before he flew backwards off his feet from the force of the explosion.

  Brian didn’t question, just quickly complied as he too was thrown back off his feet. He just barely heard the other man because not only was there the sound of the explosion, but the entire room was now being bathed in silenced gunshots. He felt a bullet punch him in his shoulder just before he landed near the stairwell, his head hitting the floor with a wallop hard enough to knock him out.

  ***

  OUTSIDE perimeter, front and back, Masco Cottage, 6:06:00

  Jonathan, Ivan, Jasper and Darren looked at their watches and in unison, two kicked the doors in and the other two tossed in the flash bangs.

  ***

  UPSTAIRS hallway, Masco Cottage, 6:05:52

  Carrying her gun, Caroline left the bedroom, thinking that she’d check behind Brian and Jae just in case, to really make sure they weren’t leaving anything behind. She made her way toward the stairs checking off a list in her head. She’d just put one foot on the first stair when all of a sudden her own personal hell opened up below her. Time froze before her and in that instant, her life with her husband played through her head as someone -- distantly she realized it was she -- screamed one long tortured sound of wrenching pain. And every kiss, every joke, every time they’d made love, every tender moment, every angry one, every sad one -- every single second of their lives together played blindingly, her scream an accompaniment to the images. Her mind broke, just completely shattered in that one excruciating instant of time as she watched her husband come flying toward her like a weightless rag doll.

  Brian! His name was so loud in her
head that it simply took over so that there was nothing left but him. Reason forcibly removed, she flew sobbing down the stairs with her arms outstretched and her palms up in a vain hope that she would catch him before he fell. Too late, too late, too late. The words were like a funeral dirge and she slowed as she drew closer to him. He was unmoving, and despairingly, she held out a hand and then quickly retracted it and covered her mouth with it to hold back more sobs as she knelt by his crumpled body. Gingerly, she lifted his head and put it in her lap, her tears splashing all over his face while she smoothed back his dark hair.

  So staggered was she by the pain, that she was rendered mute and could only press her lips to his forehead as she continued to stroke him. Logic soon returned, however, and she realized that she had no time for self-pity. She lifted her head to really look at him. Noting that his shirt was completely covered with blood, she put her ear to his mouth to ascertain if he were still breathing. He was, but it was somewhat shallow and his pulse was weak. She heard a sound, and panicked, lifted her head again. She thought she heard men talking and her hand went to the pockets of her jeans for her cell phone before she remembered that she’d left it upstairs. She checked Brian’s pockets and found them empty as well.

  She needed to hide him and get him some help. Frantically, her gaze shot around her surroundings before falling on the long dining room table and its equally long table cloth. She picked up her gun from where she’d dropped it, stuck it in her waistband and then hurried to position herself behind Brian where she scooped her arms under his and lifted him as much as she could. He groaned in pain and tears filled her eyes in regret. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll be as careful as I can.” Knowing her time was very short, she dragged him towards the table until they were parallel to it. She then gently laid his shoulders down. A sense of urgency riding her hard, she pulled out each of the three chairs that flanked their side of the table. Once done, she struggled to push him underneath the table, calling on reserves of strength she hadn’t realized she had. He moaned some more and she blocked it out by telling herself the moans meant that he was alive.