by R. T. Wolfe
"Gabby," a few of them cried out.
"Detective Savage and I are going to get more of your friends. Take care of her. Share your blankets."
His feet weren't fast enough. He had to see her. When the house was in sight, there was nothing but a slew of their footprints and quiet windows with holes in them. The woods were clear. The corners of the house were clear. He sprinted to the window she would be in.
There was no cut oval. No. He whipped his head and dug his temple into the barrel of a gun.
Chapter 29
The same man who brought him his drink when he solicited Moody for work buried the gun into Duncan's face and forced him to turn around. In front of him stood Moody. His gun was pointed at the side of Nickie's head, his other arm possessively wrapped over her shoulder. She looked like she was going to be sick.
"Hello, painter," Moody crooned.
"What did you do to her?" he yelled. The man took Duncan's Beretta and sucker punched him to the side of the head. Duncan saw stars, but he'd been through worse. His head buzzed with adrenaline as he assessed everything around him, the position of Moody's arm, the balance of weight between his legs, the size of the man who put his gun back to Duncan's head. But mostly, Nickie's face. Something was off, even for someone with a gun to her head.
"What did you think the two of you were going to do here, Mr. Reed? You should know I have cameras over every inch of my property. It will be only been a matter of minutes before I am contacted about your arrival. In fact, there will be consequences that you were able to get this far without my notification." He dipped his head to Nickie and licked her cheek making Duncan shake hard enough for the gun to dig a bruise in the side of his face. "And what did I do to our precious savage? We're having a small reunion."
To our precious savage? His eyes darted to hers in question. She knew the question and nodded. He'd had his hands on her. He may very well have been responsible for the marks on her back. He'd had his hands on her.
An explosion blasted from the east, followed by the sounds of engines coming from the west.
In her signature move, Nickie ducked her head forward, feigning a scared girl whimper, then threw it back, bloodying Moody's face. Duncan took the opportunity to flip Moody's man over his shoulder, following him into a roll before landing at Moody's feet. Moody threw his fist down, landing a solid punch to the side of Duncan's jaw. Duncan swept Moody's legs from beneath him and watched as the side of his face landed in the snow.
Nickie grabbed her real gun from Moody, and Duncan heard her screaming orders to the dude on the ground.
Duncan straddled Moody and used his body weight and momentum to plant a hook to the side of Moody's face. Then another. And another. He'd had his hands on Nickie. He lifted him by the shoulders and slammed his head back on the ground. He had his hands on Nickie when she was a little girl. He punched him again and saw the blood from his knuckles leave lines on Moody's face.
"Duncan, the girls in your car." Moody was unconscious. The other man cuffed. Backup was arriving, and they weren't part of this takedown.
Two men dressed completely in black and one only half-dressed came in low, running around to the back of the house. No tactical gear. Thugs and a john. Duncan promised Nickie not to use his Beretta unless he absolutely had to. The bullets could be traced back to his gun. He didn't have to use the bullets. Taking the butt of the gun, he swung to the side of the first thug's head. The man hadn't even seen it coming. The second drew his gun as Nickie jumped and used her body weight to come down strong with a full-force punch to the face. She gave one, two more for good measure.
The john stood frozen and lifted his hands. Fight back, Duncan wished, as he watched Nickie waste her cuffs on him. They heard car doors open and a van door slide. Loud voices ordered men to surround the property.
"Duncan. The girls."
Together, they took off running before they ended up cuffed like the john. The path was well worn by this time. As they ran, Nickie couldn't help but consider the possibility that she might get out of this. That was SWAT she heard and not just a few of them. They'd gotten the four who almost escaped. The feds would most certainly get the rest. Where was there to hide? They might be able to get the girls in the SUV to safety and slip out just as they had slipped in. The idea of both taking down this operation and keeping her job made her legs run all the faster.
They passed the dogs and ran to the completely steamed car. Yanking open the doors much too fast, the girls screamed and huddled next to each other.
"It's okay. It's okay. It's me. Does anyone need medical attention?"
They turned to each other, then shook their heads.
"I'm Detective Savage. This is Duncan Reed. The of the police are here. They are gathering the rest of the girls. We're going to drive you—"
"Nickie," Duncan said quickly.
She jerked her head to him, then followed his line of sight. The shadows of two people ran through the woods toward the exit.
Without thinking, Nickie slammed the door and took off running. Her legs were tireless, her arms swinging for momentum. She heard Duncan yell something, but she didn't slow. His quick steps were close behind her.
One of the men checked over his shoulder as he ran and spotted her. He ducked behind a tree. She saw the gun wheel around from the trunk, and she ducked behind the nearest cover. The aim was good, too good, as it grazed the bark next to her head. To the side, Duncan had found shelter and was unharmed. He had his Beretta and let off a few rounds. She waited for one more shot before she flew her hand around the trunk and shot at any sign of movement.
Silence ensued. She watched Duncan. He was the one with what seemed like super human hearing. She couldn't make out his face but analyzed his movements nonetheless.
Certain she hadn't seen any bodies tumble over, she decided to be the one who flinched first and rotated, letting off another round of shots. Duncan followed suit. The answering return fire was just as aggressive. She took the time to change magazines when she heard a single shot.
"Ah." It was Duncan's voice. Her shoulder against her cover, she saw him drop to his knees. Away from his tree. Several more shots danced the snow in front of him.
"No!" she screamed as she left the cover of the tree and ran forward shooting, rolling in the snow and shooting again. She could see everything now. An arm came down from around a tree and before the man had a chance to get off the round, she shot him at his exposed side. Ducking to the ground, she waited for number two to show himself. He took off running and with one clean shot, she got him in the leg.
With less than a second to assess her targets, she lifted from the ground and took off toward Duncan. He was upright again, but not of his own will. She half-walked, half-ran in low with her gun pointing at the man who held him up. Moody.
He held a gun to Duncan's head. Blood stained Duncan's arm, a large hole in the shoulder of his coat.
Moody's face was swollen and cut, blood dripping from his temple and cheek. He opened his mouth and sneered. "Drop the gu—"
She shot him dead center in the forehead.
Duncan expelled a heavy breath he had been holding and dropped to a knee.
"Are you okay?" The panic was worse than the sick sensation of Moody's tongue on her or even the memories it brought back. "Let me see." She tried to pull his coat to the side, but he shook his head and plopped in the snow.
"What about, 'Put down your gun, Moody?' or 'We can talk about this, Moody?'"
Her cheeks expanded, and her smile spread from ear to ear. "I had a good shot."
"That's not what they do on television. You need to watch more television." His voice almost cracked as he let his head fall against the tree he used as a backrest. "You scared the shit out of me."
She sat in front of him, gently spreading his coat to assess the wound. "I scared the shit out of you? As opposed to having a gun pointed to your boyfriend's head?"
"I don't have a boyfriend." He winced as she examined t
he hole.
"It went clean through. That's a good thing." She took off her coat and, ignoring the buttons, pulled her shirt over her head. She replaced the coat and ripped her shirt in strips. With no time for careful, she stuffed a piece in the front and back of his shoulder, then wrapped the remaining strips over his shoulder, around and under his arm.
"You make a good field dressing, Detective."
"Can you walk? We need to get the girls."
He nodded and lifted to his feet as blinding flashlights came at them from four angles. She dropped her gun and reached for her badge.
"Hands in the air!"
"See?" Duncan said as he lifted his good arm. "That's what cops say."
"Man down," she yelled. "I'm a detective. I have identification." She held her arms up high. "The man next to me is civilian. He's been shot. He can't lift his left arm."
Men in full SWAT gear rushed them but didn't take them to the ground. They had a dead man lying three feet from them. Rifles pointed at their heads, but they didn't tackle her and Duncan? Then, Lewis and Strong came around from the cover of two of them.
"Detective Savage. Mr. Reed," Strong said in sarcastic greeting. "Funny meeting you here. Continue the search," he added to the team.
"We have a car... an SUV—"
"We found it. The girls are all accounted for. We got everyone except three or four men who ran. I assume this is one of them?" he said, referring to Moody.
"Yes, sir."
"They'll find the others." Strong referred to his team.
"They've both been shot," she confessed. "One in the leg and one in the side. I left one twenty yards due west of here and the other ten yards north of that."
Lewis called it in to the walkie on his shoulder.
"You have a lot of explaining to do."
"I'd like to get Mr. Reed to a doctor first."
He seemed like he was considering it? "Agreed."
* * *
Much to the doctor's disapproval, argument and threats, Duncan refused overnight observation. Since they got to the hospital at 4 a.m., she supposed overnight was a gray term anyway. He was fully dressed, and she waited with him for his release papers.
The sun was rising, and she was going to start her new life. The idea of getting away unnoticed was squashed with the minor detail of her shooting Moody dead. It was worth it. No more chasing his ring of guards, thugs and girls. Each was either in jail or in protective custody. The dozen johns who were taken in were the cherry on top.
She wasn't scared. That surprised her. She was ready to go to Child Rescue and see if they could use her there. There were plenty of organizations who might be able to use her.
He was watching her. Duncan's beautiful chocolate brown eyes looked through her and into her soul.
"They're going to want to talk to us separately," she said as she placed his coat in her lap.
"Of course, they are."
She lifted from the seat next to him and laid her lips on his.
"Just so you know," he said, "not all of my parts are broken."
Strong and Lewis stepped in front of the nurse who carried the discharge papers. They were still in their tactical gear, and she assumed came straight from Moody's property. "I'd like to speak with Mr. Reed before he leaves," Lewis said, taking Nickie's seat as she stood.
"Follow me please, Detective Savage," Strong ordered. Nickie would miss the title.
* * *
She and Duncan knew what to say. Keep to the truth as much as possible. Well, keep to the truth that wouldn't put them both in jail for twenty to forty.
Strong had somehow reserved a patient room in ER. She wondered how he was able to pull that off.
"How did you know tonight was the bust?"
So, no greeting, no niceties, no concern for her health. "I didn't."
He seemed exasperated, and she had to remind herself they were both exhausted. "Tanner told me to look into boxing. You, yourself, said you had a tip. You had Madison Square covered. So, I decided to take some time off and picnic in a car on a public street."
"And you just happened to have the right night? Where are you getting your information, Savage? Who is your source?"
"I didn't have the right night, believe me. I sat for the entire Friday night before the Madison Square boxing match, the entire Saturday night of the match, and then did the same this weekend."
"I can talk to your captain to verify that."
"I didn't tell him where I was going, but he will verify that I took these last two weekends off. They were my first vacation days since I started at Northridge."
"You were told to terminate your involvement with this case. We told you we would call you if we needed you."
"Another half hour and they would have been gone. The men were... finished when I got to the girls." Duncan would never have been able to handle what she saw through the blinds. Duncan. She wanted to be with him. Strong went on like this for over an hour. She wanted to at least ask about him. Duncan was going through this with a hole in his arm. But asking would have been useless. She told Strong about the cameras they noticed as they helped the girls. How they were able to break into the surveillance room and route each and every file they had for the white house to a separate site. Instead of acting like a cop who was just handed the goods on potentially hundreds of high-profile citizens, he barely blinked. Patience, Savage.
He seemed to be tying loose ends together. Or else twisting the knife a little. "You'll lose your badge over this stunt."
"I know."
"I hope it was worth it, Savage." He was already dropping her title.
"You're welcome."
Chapter 30
Eddy came into her office as she packed. He sat a hip on the back of one of her chairs... one of the department's chairs. She didn't really have much. No family pictures. No trinkets.
"Maybe I'll put in for a transfer," he whined.
"That's ridiculous," she said as she cleared the crap from her desk.
"Maybe." He lifted from the back of the chair and walked to her, placing his hand on the side of her neck. "It won't be the same." He reached over and kissed her on the cheek. It wasn't romantic, not expecting. Just... kind.
"Ahem." The captain stood in the doorway.
Eddy winked and waited for him to get out of the way. "Captain." He nodded his head.
"Was it worth it?" Dave asked.
She laughed. "That's what Strong asked me." Stopping what she was doing, she stared at him eye-to-eye. "Yes. It was. I can't believe the burden that's been lifted from my shoulders. There are hundreds of rings of girls where this one came from. But this one... well... it was worth it to take this one out for good."
"I guess I'll see you at the annual July Fourth celebration at the Reeds'. Don't be a stranger."
She couldn't imagine coming back here. For what? A visit? "Sure thing," she lied.
Two men dressed in pants and polos knocked on the doorjamb.
She and the captain looked to them, then to each other, then back to the men. "Can I help you?" she asked.
"We're looking for a Detective Savage?" They peered at the door where her nameplate used to hang. "We were told it was this office."
Uh-oh. "I'm Ms. Savage."
"We'd like a few minutes alone," one of them said to Dave.
"I'm the captain of this station. How can I help you gentlemen?" Always part father figure. How could she not miss this man?
"Our apologies, Captain. We didn't see your badge." The first one, the one with sandy brown hair stuck out his arm. "I am Special Agent Goodrich and this is Special Agent Hurst."
Feds? Holy crap. They didn't dress like feds. She didn't care what it looked like, she let herself sink into her chair.
Another knock came at her door. "Why not?" she said aloud to the fifth visitor. "Come on in." She didn't know or care who it was.
It was Duncan? They hadn't discussed his coming in as she packed. Of course, he would. Her tiny office was barely r
oom enough when she had two suspects or meetings with witnesses. There were six of them, including her, and Dave could easily count as two.
"I'm sorry, sir, but we'd like to talk to the detective alone. We'll have to ask you to wait in the common area."
Duncan's eyes said he thought she might be cuffed at any second. She shook her head, assuring him, but she wasn't all too sure if she should. He dipped his head and stepped back only enough to allow Dave and Eddy room to exit. Overtly, he locked his knees and folded his hands in front of him.
The special agent with sandy brown hair sat down first. She already couldn't remember his name and she never forgot a name.
"We'd like to thank you, Detective."
"Excuse me?" Was this a joke?
"We'd like to thank you for your work with the Moody case. We've been following it, and feel you were the core to getting these guys."
So, this was a joke. She lifted her brows. "What are your names again?"
They gave approving glances to each other before answering. "I'm Special Agent Goodrich, yes, like the tire." His partner snorted. He snorted?
"I'm Special Agent Hurst."
"Where are Lewis and Strong?"
They glanced at each other again. Yep. These guys were feds. That was the creepy thing feds did.
"They've been... uh... reassigned. Langley would like for us to try and work with you instead."
"Work with me? I don't know if anyone told you this, but I've been stripped of my badge. I'm no longer a detective. I'm sorry you wasted your trip."
"I don't think you understand. We are here to tell you that was all a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding," she repeated as a statement. She disobeyed a direct order from the FBI, from these guys' colleagues, and there was a misunderstanding?
"We know about your past, Detective."
She lifted her chin. At least they had the decency to say it aloud.
"Your record speaks for itself." Hurst spoke this time. "Your work is clean. You have the best conviction rate in the state. And your history gives you an incredible advantage. You recognized details in the death of the girl in your jurisdiction ten months ago. Were able to track the perpetrators to Nevada and practically single-handedly took down a number of them. You scared them enough to cause them to abandon the house they'd been using. You found Moody. That alone was impressive. You have a sixth sense that we want to use."
