Black Smoke

by Robin Leigh Miller

  It seemed the man stood with all his weight on her, crushing her sternum. Sam had no other choice but to stop fighting. If he continued the pressure, her sternum would surely collapse. She gasped for air and looked into the eyes of the devil himself. There was no mercy there, no humanity. Just emptiness.

  The man waited until her gasps for air became shallower then kicked her in the rib cage. Hands picked her up and held her while the man she had originally fought unleashed his vengeance. One blow after another landed. There seemed to be no end to the brutal punishment he was willing to give her.

  Sam heard popping and cracking as bones failed under the severe beating. It was the last blow to her face that sent her spiraling into the darkness, a darkness she welcomed because, for the first time in her life, she couldn’t fight back.

  She must be inside the house. Voices could be heard, but they seemed far away. Every once in a while she could hear something thump above her. If the sounds were above her, then she was in the basement. But why were they keeping her? Why not just dump her somewhere, or kill her?

  “Let’s see if our visitor is awake yet.” The voice was scratchy and low and coming closer. Sam fought to keep herself calm as she waited while whoever it was came into the room. Her thoughts went to her Uncle Walt. How worried he must be and how angry he would be. Then she thought about Mark. Would she ever get the chance to see him again, to tell him she didn’t hate him, but loved him? Would it even matter to him?

  “Wake up!” The voice boomed into the room.

  Sam cursed herself for jumping, for giving them the satisfaction of seeing her jump.

  “Who are you?” the voice asked.

  Sam tried to open her eyes as much as possible to see the man’s face, but her eyes were too swollen to open even a crack. What would she tell them, that she suspected them of killing her parents eighteen years ago? She needed to tell them something.

  “I asked you a question,” the man said grabbing her face.

  The moan escaped her mouth before she could stop it. His hands were brutal, squeezing her already bruised cheeks. All she could do was fight the pain.

  “Not talking, or can’t?” he grumbled. “You guys were too rough. How we going to find out anything with her all busted up like that?” he asked as he let go of her face. “Clean her up. Give her some water. The boss’ll want to see her when he gets here.”

  She heard footsteps walking away, then the sound of water being run into a bucket. Sam tensed as she waited to see what would be done to her. A chuckle seemed to come from over her, then ice cold water flooded over her body. A loud gasp could be heard through the room, as Sam sucked in her breath. Every cut, open wound or sore flamed from the force of the water.

  Another laugh filled the air, then water running again. Sam braced herself this time, waiting for the deluge to pour over her. When it came, she held herself stiff as her body protested the clash of ice cold water and pain.

  She suffered through two more buckets until the man decided she was clean enough to be seen by whoever the boss was. It would have been easy for Sam to plot how she would kill each and every one of them, but that wasn’t prudent. She needed to keep her mind on getting away. Some how, some way, she needed to free herself.

  Help me, she pleaded inside her head. You helped me free myself once before, help me now.

  The only sound Sam heard was silence. No answer. I’m sorry if I let you down, she continued, I won’t question you again, just help me. Those days after Mark left were hard. She had found herself questioning every event that led to their meeting.

  I cannot help you Samantha.

  Relief swept over her at the sound of the familiar voice inside her head.

  Why? she questioned. Why can’t you help me?

  I cannot interfere.

  I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Just tell me how to get out of these shackles.

  You do not understand Samantha.

  Please, she cried within herself. Please don’t let them kill me the way they did my mother. Take me now before they steal what’s left of my dignity.

  Heavy footsteps came down the stairs and the door to the room opened. Sam held her breath, waiting for what would come. She could feel the shackles cutting into her wrists. If need be, she would slice herself open all the way and bleed to death before she would allow herself to be ravaged the way her mother was.

  “Well, well. What do we have here?” The voice was familiar, a voice from her past. A voice from her dream. He walked around her once, then stood next to her before crouching down beside her. “My men did a number on you, didn’t they?” Sam could feel his breath on her skin as he spoke. “You shouldn’t have been snooping around.” He seemed to be studying her between his sentences. “A pretty little thing I think. Of course it’s hard to tell with your face all messed up like that.”

  His hands slid between her breasts, down her stomach and stopped between her legs. No! She screamed inside her head. Don’t let this happen!

  “Pity, I have other plans at the moment. But you aren’t going anywhere are you? You’ll wait for me.”

  “We have plans to make. Time is running out,” another voice came from across the room.

  “Yes, I know,” he said walking away. “Don’t let her die. I want to have the pleasure of taking her life.”

  Sam held her breath until she was sure all the footsteps were gone. Then she waited and listened to see if anyone stayed behind. When she heard nothing, she began jerking her legs against the chains around her ankles. Pain ripped through her knee with every jerk, but she didn’t stop.

  You don’t want to help me, I’ll do it myself. Haven’t I done everything you asked of me? How many people have I saved over the years because you wanted me to? Now you leave me to be used by these animals and killed.

  Her head was beginning to ache from her mental screaming. Pushing past it, she continued to jerk her legs. If she could just work enough space loose, she could slide her foot out.

  Stop Samantha. You are injuring yourself further.

  What difference does it make? When he comes back, he’ll do worse.

  Tears began slipping from between her swollen eyelids. It couldn’t end like this. Not after all she’d done for others. Where was her happiness in life? Was she asking too much—a simple happy life with someone that loved her? A family of her own?

  Through a small crack in her swollen eyes, she saw what seemed to be a brilliant white light fill the room. Sam stopped struggling and tried to open her eyes further. Warmth spread through her body, peace settled inside her mind and heart. What felt like electricity started from her toes and ran up her body to her fingertips.

  Sam, you must not struggle. Your body is damaged badly enough. Don’t make it worse.

  This voice wasn’t her guide. It sounded like her mother. Was the warmth and peace she felt coming from her mother?

  “Mom?” she asked aloud.

  Please honey, don’t hurt yourself any more. Help is on the way. You just have to hold on.

  “Mommy, is that you? Don’t leave me please.” Sam gasped for breath as she spoke. Was it possible? Could her mother help her?

  I’m always with you Sam. I always have been.

  The light began to dim in the room and the warmth lessened. “No! Don’t go, please.” But it was too late, darkness swallowed her once again. “No, no. Don’t leave.” Sam whispered.

  * * * * *

  The men upstairs made lists of who would plant bombs and where. Next came who would target planes in the air. A sense of finality settled over the room.

  “The time has come my brothers.” The leader spoke. “All our years of planning have paid off. Tomorrow we will exact our revenge on those disbelievers. Nonconformist Americans will never rest safely in their homes again. We will hold power. We will decide what they believe in and what they buy from now on. Our great leader will be safe to lead openly once again.”

  Cheers filled the room, handshakes were passed from one man
to another. Everyone was joyful at the thought of taking down a great materialistic, and in their mind, evil power. All but one man. He smiled and shook hands with the others, but the secret he held behind his smiling eyes would bring them all down.

  There was only one problem, the woman downstairs. Who was she? How did she find them? Was she sent by his superiors? These questions niggled away at his brain as he joined in the celebration among the men.

  Normally he wouldn’t care. Just one more acceptable loss in the war on terror. But there was something about her, something he couldn’t put his finger on. He’d seen the way she fought, the way she didn’t back down. Training, extensive training. She had to be government, no one fought like that unless they were trained by the government.

  He hadn’t been told another agent was being sent in. Wouldn’t they alert him? Or had he become expendable? Silently he cursed. He didn’t spend the last two years of his life living with these psychos and reporting their every move to be thrown away like garbage at the end. How could they do this to him? Then again, maybe she wasn’t government. Maybe she was a vigilante. If that were the case, then he had bigger problems. She wouldn’t be working alone. Surely she had others out there waiting for her return.

  He had to find out. He had to be sure. He couldn’t let all his work be blown because of vigilantes. When all the partying was over and every man was sleeping off the drink they were about to share, he would sneak downstairs. She would answer his questions. He was trained in how to interrogate prisoners and he would utilize every method that was at his disposal.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The plane landed in New York without any problems. The four men disembarked and walked straight to a car parked on the tarmac. A small man got out of the car and held his hand out to Walt as they approached. The handshake was brief. More important things crowded niceties out of Walt’s mind.

  “Kevin, these are Lieutenants Campbell, Underwood and Lowe. They’ve come to help me find her.”

  “I’ve got a car waiting for you outside the airport. Maps and all the information we have are in there. If you need anything else, call me.” With that statement, Kevin got back in his car and waited for them to join him.

  They were dropped off at their car, the keys were handed to Walt and the little man drove away. Kong was eager to get on with it, so he opened up the front passenger door and climbed in. All the papers were lying on the console of the car and Kong wasted no time going through them.

  “What do they say?” Walt asked as he started the car.

  “Her car was found two miles away from an old rundown house. The police think she’s inside there, but they can’t move in. I guess the government sees her as being expendable,” he snarled.

  “No surprise there. If they’ve been watching this cell for the last eighteen years, they won’t let a single woman stand in their way,” Walt remarked.

  “Are we going to let them know we intend to get her out?” Boomer asked from the backseat.

  Walt and Kong looked at each other. “No, because we’re expendable too,” Walt said, then pulled away from the airport.

  “So you’re sayin‘ we’re gonna go in there, snatch her and get the hell out right? Isn’t that gonna piss a lotta people off?” Ricochet asked.

  “I really don’t give a damn,” Walt replied.

  “Okay. Just checkin’.”

  “I want to talk with this officer who found her car. He may know something that isn’t in his report,” Kong said.

  “That was my first plan of action. Cops always know more than they put in their reports. He may even be able to help us find a way into those woods without being seen.”

  They drove for a while in silence, Kong’s mind already working out a plan of attack. It didn’t matter that he knew nothing about the layout or how many men might be in the house his only thought was getting to her and bringing her home. Samantha Wells had become the most important person in his life and he needed her.

  Kong looked over at Walt. “You were an ops man in the military weren’t you? You were like us.”

  “I was you Lowe. I traveled around the world doing any job my army wanted me to do. In between I found myself a pretty little thing that would keep me warm and satisfied at night.”

  That comment wasn’t lost on Kong. He knew it was a dig at him, but he chose to ignore it. He’d just add it to the pile of things to be dealt with after Sam was home.

  “When my brother was murdered, I took a desk job and raised Sam. Once I learned all I could about the murders, I retired and started W&S Incorporated. I lost my taste for the military after I found out Marcy’s and Ben’s murders were being swept under the rug.”

  Understanding bloomed inside Kong. He was rapidly losing his taste for the military as well.

  “Her last name is different,” Kong said more to himself then to Walt. It had only taken him a month to realize that.

  “Yeah, well, as far as the world’s concerned, Samantha Cannon died when she was eight years old. I changed her name to Wells before she left the hospital. It was my mother’s maiden name.”

  Walt remembered how confused Sam had been when he told her that her last name was now Wells. Not only did she lose her family, she had lost her identity as well.

  “I couldn’t chance it. If they knew she was alive, they would come back and finish her. She was the only one who saw their faces and lived. There’s a small headstone in the cemetery with her name on it, right next to her mom and dad’s.”

  Kong didn’t want to think about a headstone with her name on it. He pushed that unthinkable notion from his head. “So all these years, Sam thought what? That her family was murdered by some burglars? She’s smarter than that Cannon. The fact that she had that autopsy photo proves that.”

  “I don’t know how she came across that photo. But I do know that the information about the terrorist cell was buried so deep she would never find it.” It had taken him years to find out who killed his brother and his wife, Sam couldn’t have found out in a matter of days. “I don’t even know how she knew these guys were involved.”

  “It was the tattoo,” Kong said. “Back in the desert, she would dream about it. She would always see the tattoo. You said she recognized it on one of the men’s hands. She didn’t dig up any information, she fell into this mess. Damn it, that’s what they were telling me.” It was all making sense now. He wasn’t supposed to leave, he was supposed to stay and help her. “Protect her, her journey isn’t over.”

  The car stopped in the parking lot of the local police station. Walt turned off the ignition and stared at the front of the building. “Who told you that? Who told you that her journey wasn’t over yet?”

  Kong smacked the dashboard with his open hand. He’d been an absolute fool through this whole thing. “They did!” he yelled, his eyes trying desperately to relay his meaning without saying the words.

  Walt’s brow furrowed. He understood. He understood completely. So that’s why they urged her to tell him about herself. They had a connection, one that was meant to keep her safe. “I think I’ll go in and try to find this Officer Burns,” Walt whispered.

  The three men sat in the car and watched Walt walk into the building. Kong’s hand was gripped around the door handle. He wanted to go inside and talk with Burns, he wanted to find out what the man knew, but he was too emotional. If the man didn’t give him the answers he wanted, no telling what he would do. So, he gripped the handle harder and waited. “I don’t like this, man,” Ricochet huffed. “I don’t like this one bit. If she’s in that house with a bunch of terrorists, how long until they…”

  Boomer responded before Ricochet could finish. “She’s tough. She wouldn’t let them take her without a fight. My bet’s on Black Smoke.”

  Kong thought back to the first day they met. How fast she took him down and hard she fought. But she’d taken them one by one. Two or three she could handle, but there was no telling how many men she had encountered. A cold chill ran
down his spine as horrible images rushed through his mind. Would they kill her right away? No. They’d want to know who she was and who she worked for and she wouldn’t give up that information easily.

  That meant they would drag it out of her. And that meant torture tactics. Kong’s blood turned to ice. “Sam, where are you?” he whispered to himself. Unable to sit any longer, he threw open the door and slid from the car.

  Walt was coming back out the door as Kong walked toward it. The look on Walt’s face told the whole story, no info. Well then, they’d just have to go in blind. At this point, Kong didn’t care. He just wanted her back.

  “Hey!” a man shouted from the side of the building. Walt looked over at him, then at Kong. Both men walked to where he stood. “I heard you talking to the captain. He goes strictly by the book so he ain’t gonna tell ya nothing.”

  “But you will?” Kong asked looking the man over.

  “I don’t like the fact that we have this scum living here. We would’ve taken them down a long time ago, but for some reason, we aren’t even allowed to drive by the place.” Sweat was beading on the man’s forehead as he spoke. “I’ve personally dealt with dead bodies that turn up and are tracked back to that house. Every time, I’m pulled off the damn case,” he told them.

  “You have any information that can help us get near the house?” Walt asked in a flat tone.

  “I can tell ya, there’s about six or eight of ‘em living there. And I can tell ya that a couple of days ago I saw a white van head down that road. A few minutes later a red Mustang followed.”

  Burns watched the faces of the two men standing before him. He had their attention now.

  “You’re the man the captain doesn’t want us talking to?” Walt asked suspiciously.

  “We got a call about an abandoned car sitting on the road, so I went down and checked it out. The captain,” he said nodding his head toward the building. “He said if it had anything to do with that house, to just leave it be.”

  “But you didn’t?” Kong asked.