by Alex Ander
“I have one here that’s eleven-oh-one Christy Way. Why do you ask?”
Randall leaned closer to the table, closer to the letter. That could be a ‘C.’ Or an ‘O.’ “Dispatch agents and officers to the other addresses, ma’am, but,” he ran out of the kitchen and through the front door, “send me directions to the one on Christy Way. I’m taking that one myself.”
*******
2:45 P.M. (LOCAL TIME)
20 MILES WEST OF
RICHMOND, VIRGINIA
Capable of intercontinental flights without refueling, the white Bombardier Global Express, its folding staircase down, sat ready to depart from the private airstrip. In the cockpit, the pilot was completing his pre-takeoff checklist.
Outside, still wearing the suit he had taken from the deputy marshal he had killed, Michael Crane, eager to get airborne, strode toward his plane to freedom. In a few minutes, I’ll be on my way to a new life. Hearing a quick squeal of a tire, he picked up his pace and threw a look over his shoulder. Observing an SUV speeding toward him, he retrieved his phone and placed a hurried call.
*******
Noticing the jet before seeing a figure in a dark suit hustling toward it, Devlin straightened the steering wheel and pressed her right foot to the floor.
Its motor roaring, the Tahoe surged forward.
As the aircraft got closer, bigger, she glimpsed ‘91’ on the speedometer before transitioning her foot to the brake pedal.
Its screeching tires gripping the hard surface, its front-end diving while its rear end fishtailed left, the Chevy skidded to a halt the length of a school bus away from the plane’s port side stairs.
Devlin rushed out of the SUV and peeled around the open door. Her Colt 45 in both hands, she aimed it at the fleeing man. “Stop right there, Crane!”
His left hand grasping a handrail, his right foot on the staircase’s first step, Crane stuffed his cell phone into a pocket and pivoted his head toward the voice. He smiled. “Jessica. Come to wish me a safe flight?”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 13
Bite Me
15 SECONDS EARLIER...
11:45 A.M. (LOCAL TIME)
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
“Understood, sir. I’ll be ready in one minute.” With Linebacker right behind him, Blade (Deputy Marshal Mason) stowed his cell phone, navigated the steps to the basement, and unlocked a door.
Both men burst into the pitch-black holding cell and rushed the woman on the cot, Linebacker pointing a flashlight at her.
Shielding her eyes from the blinding beam, Faith scrambled to a sitting position, her back to the wall. “What the—”
Mason clutched her t-shirt and dragged her to her belly, ripping the tattered garment from her body.
She lifted her torso.
He drove her face back down onto the canvas.
She kicked.
Linebacker subdued her legs.
Mason sunk a knee into the middle of her back.
Faith bellowed at the mind-numbing pain flooding her body.
He secured her wrists behind her back with plastic restraints and yanked her to her feet. “The time has come, Ms. Mahoney.” Clenching her left elbow, he pushed her toward the door.
She let her knees buckle.
Her frame becoming dead weight in his grasp, he stumbled over her lower legs. Regaining his balance and hoisting her to her feet, he got a handful of hair, shoved her against the wall face first, and touched lips to her left ear. “Do that again, and I’ll make sure you die a slow and most painful death.”
Her right cheek kissing damp and smelly cinder blocks, her words came out slurred. “Bite me.”
He pulled, “Oh, believe me when I tell you,” before pushing her through the open doorway, “I’ll be doing that...and much more before this is all over.”
*******
11:46 A.M.
From his hiding place amid a stand of trees—one of several mini forests surrounding the perimeter of a barren subdivision that featured one completed home and one in the middle stages of construction—Randall sprinted to within ten yards of the completed structure and ducked behind a yellow-colored backhoe, one of many pieces of equipment sitting idle.
Twenty seconds later, he saw the two men who had disappeared from his sight a minute ago come into view again.
His left arm around a struggling, half-naked woman’s throat, the taller of the two men thumbed a cell phone and put the device to his ear.
Randall squinted at the captive female’s face. She’s a spitting image of Jessica...except for the blonde hair. He retrieved his mobile and dialed Devlin’s number.
*******
2:46 P.M. (LOCAL TIME)
VIRGINIA
“Show me your hands!”
Crane turned toward the marshal and complied with the order. “I just knew we’d meet again.”
Devlin nudged the muzzle of her 45 ACP to the right twice. “Back away from the plane and get on your knees.”
“In fact, I told you so when you arrested me. Remember?”
“I said...”
Her phone rang.
“...back...away...from the plane.”
His open hands in front of his chest, Crane rotated one toward her. “You’ll want to take that. It’s a matter of life and death,” he sneered at her, “your sister’s life that is.”
Devlin hauled out her mobile and eyed the screen: Number Blocked. She lifted her gaze toward Crane.
He tilted his head one way and then the other. “Tick tock, Jessica.”
Glaring at him, she answered the call.
*******
SEATTLE
Barely releasing his chokehold on Faith, Mason touched his lips to her left ear while putting his phone to her other ear. “It’s your dear sister. Tell her to do exactly what she’s told to do...and you might live to see tomorrow.”
Her captor’s stale coffee breath sweeping over her jaw and rushing up her nostrils, Faith swallowed to clear her aching throat. “Jess?”
“Faith. Are you all right?”
Faith heard the fear in her sibling’s voice. “I’m fine.” She glimpsed the man behind her out of the corner of her eye, his words coming back to her. Tell her to do exactly what she’s told to do. Mustering her verbal strength, she raised her voice. “Don’t do anything this mother fu—”
Mason wrenched on her neck, forcing her to her tiptoes, before speaking into his cell’s microphone. “Do what Mr. Crane tells you to, or she’s dead.” He disconnected the call. “Now we wait...to see how much your sister cares for you.”
*******
VIRGINIA
Devlin’s upper body lurched forward, the air in her lungs leaving in a single eruption. “Faith!” She gawked at the screen, saw the call had ended, and threw a death stare toward Crane.
“Once I’m,” he motioned toward the plane, “in the air, I’ll tell them to release her.”
She went back to her cell and noticed an incoming call had been trying to connect. She touched the green ‘receiver’ icon and put the mobile to her ear, speaking low, so only the caller could hear her. “Tell me you have her, Noah. Please tell me you have her.”
“I have eyes on her. And the situation is not good.”
“Kidnappers?”
“Two tangos confirmed, but there may be more.”
Her phone in one hand, her pistol in the other, and leveled at Crane, Devlin gritted her teeth at the man while weighing her options. Crane’s offer, Once I’m in the air, I’ll tell them to release her, collided with Randall’s Intel. Two tangos confirmed, but there may be more.
“Say the word, Jessica, and I’ll kick down the doors.”
Crane spread his arms further apart while turning palms skyward. “Just so you know...my men have orders to kill her if they don’t hear from me in a timely manner.”
Her heart thumping in her chest, her phone sticking to her perspiring skin, Devlin studied the man. My men hav
e orders to kill her. She envisioned Randall breaking down a door. Two tangos confirmed, but there may be more.
Crane shook his head. “She doesn’t have much time left.”
Randall: “I need an order, Jessica.”
Her nose wrinkling, Devlin breathed deeply before exhaling. “Stand down. He’s promised to let her go.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“No.” A tense moment passed. “But what choice do I have? They could kill her the second you go in.” She lowered her gun. “Stand down, Randall. That’s an order.”
Crane grabbed the staircase handrail and took a couple steps.
“And just so you know, Crane...”
He stopped and looked back at her.
“...if Faith is harmed in any way...I’ll go to the ends of the earth to hunt you down.”
“Of that,” he smiled, “I have no doubt.”
“And when I find you,” she paused, “I won’t be bringing you back to stand trial.”
He caught her underlying message, and his gleeful countenance faded away. In the next moment, he touched fingertips to his right temple and rolled them her way, “I bid you farewell, Marshal Devlin,” before disappearing into the cabin.
It’s staircase retracting, the Bombardier Global Express’s Rolls-Royce engines revving, the jet taxied toward the runway.
Crane dropped into a seat and took out his cell phone. While the call connected, he reclined, crossed his legs, and half smiled at the ceiling. “I’m almost in the air.” He glanced out his window and saw his tenacious nemesis staring back at him. “Do what you want with the broad.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 14
You Should’ve Fought Harder
11:47 A.M. (LOCAL TIME)
SEATTLE, WASHINGTON
Stepping sideways, getting further behind the backhoe to shield his eyes from the sun that had peeked out from a dark cloud, Randall squinted at the scene playing out inside the home.
The tall man ended a call, slid the phone into a pocket, and shoved Faith.
She tripped and landed face first on a couch.
Devlin: “Talk to me, Randall. What’s happening?”
The shorter, stockier man approached Faith from behind.
“Are they letting her go?”
The man curled fingers into the waistband of her shorts and wrenched the loose-fitting garment off her body.
“I don’t...” Randall drew his Walther, “think...” He set his jaw. They’re going to rape her. “I have to go.”
“Rand—”
He clicked off and raced to the back of the house, his mind formulating a hasty plan that involved a surprise attack through the back door.
*******
Staring at her firm butt, Linebacker balled up her shorts and tossed them aside.
Completely nude, Faith flopped onto her back, brought knees to her chest, and thrust her heels into Linebacker’s groin.
Bowing, covering himself with both hands, he backpedaled before rearing up and reversing course. “You,” he cursed. “I’ll—”
Mason planted a hand on the other man’s chest, stopping him. “I told you. You get what’s left over...after I’m done with her.”
The men exchanged heated glances before Mason jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Go bring the car around. I want to be gone as soon as we’re done here.”
Still holding his smarting testicles, Linebacker glowered at Faith and stormed out of the room a beat later.
Alone with his prey, Mason drew closer to Faith.
She kicked out her legs.
He redirected them and pounced onto the sofa, landing on her and pinning her to the furniture.
Her hands still tied behind her back, her long frame curled up into a ball underneath him, she fought back.
He gained the upper hand, bent the bound woman over an arm of the couch, and stood behind her.
Panting, near exhaustion, her energy reserves drained from lack of nourishment, she heard a zipping noise come from her six o’clock. I can’t believe this. She let her body go limp.
“That’s right. Don’t fight it.”
How could you let this, her inner voice trailed off.
“Just relax, Ms. Mahoney.”
This is all your fault, Faith. Bracing for the inevitable, her right cheek laying on the seat cushion, she shut her eyes. You should’ve fought harder.
*******
The hairs on the back of his neck rising at the sight of a wide-open back door, Randall inspected the thick woods behind the house before creeping through the doorway.
Once inside, he noted steps to his left, steps leading to a basement. No time to clear it. He faced forward. Faith needs you.
Fearing a surprise assault from behind, his stomach muscles contracting, he advanced through a vacant mudroom and dining room before stopping at an archway. Glancing up a flight of carpeted stairs on his port side, he listened before squinting down a darkened hallway on his three o’clock and spying closed doors on both sides.
“Who knows?”
Randall whipped his head toward his twelve o’clock, toward a man’s voice.
“You might even enjoy this.”
Recalling what he had witnessed from the front yard, that Faith was moments away from being violated, he gripped his gun tighter, crossed the hallway, zigzagged through an empty room, and crept down another hallway.
“I know I will definitely enjoy it.”
Coming to a wide entrance on his right, Randall slowed. His mind making calculations, he estimated this was the room he had been peering into from outside—the living room—the location where the assault was taking place. His gun up and close to his chest, he sidestepped left to see into the space. His mind still expecting a blow to the back of the head, or something worse, he shot a look to his right and faced forward again.
“I’m not sure there’ll be anything left over for my friend, though.”
With each lateral half pace, Randall got a better view of the forthcoming sexual crime.
Facing him, her eyes closed, her head on a cushion, her hands tied behind her back, Faith was hunched over the sofa’s padded arm. Behind her, a man was preparing himself for the attack.
Randall glimpsed the woman, and his heart sunk. Until now, she had only been a photo with a name, an assignment. Now, seeing her up close, noticing the uncanny resemblance to someone he did know, someone he cared about, Devlin, he saw Faith Mahoney in a new light. And, seeing one of Devlin’s family members in this condition, made his temperature rise, made him clench his teeth.
He raised his Walther higher and lined up the front sight with the aggressor’s left ear. Thinking of the report the gun would make, and not knowing the second criminal’s whereabouts, he moved his finger from the trigger back to the frame and inched forward.
*******
Sensing another presence in the room, expecting to see Linebacker waiting for his turn with her, Faith opened her eyes and hope rushed into her soul.
Mason clutched her hips, his nails digging into skin.
Her spirit getting a surge of renewal at the sight of a man in a suit pointing a weapon at her soon-to-be rapist, she twisted her wrists against her restraints. Help yourself out of this mess, Faith. Help HIM help you.
Mason pulled her toward him.
She went with the motion, arched her back, stood up, and lunged forward. As the top of her right thigh hit the armrest, she twisted her upper body counterclockwise and threw out her left leg, delivering a vicious donkey kick to the predator’s genitalia.
Groaning, grabbing himself, he staggered backward.
Landing on her face and chest, unable to move, her legs hanging off the armrest, Faith lay on her stomach thinking of the man in the suit, hoping she had given him an edge in the coming battle.
*******
Recognizing an opportunity, Randall charged and hit Mason with a left cross to the head.
Stunned, Mason ba
cked into a wall. Shaking free the cobwebs, he absorbed a punch to the gut and doubled over before spotting and grabbing the other man’s gun.
Still not wanting to fire his weapon and alert anyone else, Randall lowered his elbow three times onto the deputy marshal’s back.
Mason spun Randall around, drove the intruder into the wall, and pummeled his midsection.
Fending off the blows with his free hand, Randall eyed a couch pillow on the floor.
One of Mason’s fists penetrated the other man’s defenses.
The air leaving Randall’s lungs, he grunted while glimpsing his gun. This is nuts, Noah. You’re fighting with one arm tied behind your back. Another punch found his ribs, sending a shock wave of pain up the left side of his torso. Time to end this. He curled his left arm around Mason’s neck, getting him in a front headlock, and forced him to his knees.
Mason cocked his right arm.
Hooking the arm with his left elbow, Randall rolled his opponent, did a one-eighty, straddled the man’s chest, and pistol-whipped him twice, opening a two-inch gash on the kidnapper’s temple.
Blood sprayed the floor and speckled Randall’s suit coat.
Randall grabbed the pillow he had seen earlier, covered Mason’s face, touched the Walther’s muzzle to the cushion, and worked the trigger twice.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
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Chapter 15
Thank You
Sitting back on his haunches, particles of pillow stuffing and fabric floating down around him, Randall managed to take a half breath. In the next instant, he shot looks in all directions, expecting the second man to show himself at any moment.
Holding his left elbow to his aching ribs, he got to his feet and shuffled to his left, toward the woman lying straight out over the couch’s armrest.
Trying his best not to grasp her intimate parts, but failing, he wrapped arms around Faith’s torso and eased her into a sitting position before taking a knee at her feet.
After giving him a quick peek, she spied the man on the floor a few feet away. A pillow lay beside what was left of his face. She turned back to the man kneeling before her. “Thank you.”
