Killer Bunny Hill

by Denise Robbins

  Kevin. He was alive! Thank you, thank you, she chanted ilently, and bent down to be near his face. She whispered in his ear. “Max is coming. I’m a friend of his.” Sam thought she saw a flicker of his eyelashes but she couldn’t be certain.

  Jeez. How many times had they struck him? Did they break any bones? She whirled on the Devil. “Get me out of these cuffs and let me help him,” she demanded.

  Sam would have sworn he took a retreating step, but then he smiled that wicked grin. “Tsk, tsk. You need to be polite. I said I would make you comfortable.”

  “I don’t give a damn about me,” she yelled, and took menacing step toward him, her fists bunched and ready to do battle.

  “Such a shame. I have always liked you.” He reached out and stroked her cheek with a thumb, ran it across her lower lip. “Maybe I could give you what my son so obviously lacked.”

  Her skin crawled, and she tried to bite his hand. He was quick. She missed, and he moved away.

  “I’ll do as you wish. Not that it will matter.” He spun her around and did away with her shackles. Before she could think to attack, he stood at the door. “It won’t be long.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Fear and adrenaline had him sprinting, running as if his life depended on how fast he could run. It wasn’t his life that depended on his speed, it was Samantha’s. His heart raced in his chest, and sweat poured down his back. He already lost everyone who meant anything to him, including his brother. He would not lose Sam.

  He had sprinted about fifty yards down the underground tunnel when he came to an abrupt halt. Breathing rapidly, he stared in amazement…at a Segway. Brilliant. The standup, two-wheeled, motorized transporter was the perfect smuggling vehicle. It could be used in small, tight places and allowed the rider to get from one location to another quicker than on foot. Max shook his head. He almost admired the creativity of the criminal mind. Almost.

  The device went a maximum speed of twelve and a half miles per hour, but it would get him where he needed sooner than he had anticipated. He mentally thanked whoever, praised him or her, then stepped on, powered up the little electric cart, and headed toward Canada. According to the map, this particular channel to the Underground Railroad led directly to the Canadian border, about two miles away. That is, unless someone modified the tunnel for other purposes. The only thing Max knew to expect was the unexpected.

  Afraid of missing anything, or of an ambush, he cruised down the cavern at a slow six miles per hour. When he noticed how well lit his routes seemed, he suddenly wondered if surveillance cameras watched. Concerned, he slowed and glanced toward the ceiling. If they had cameras, he was seriously screwed, and so was Sam. The farther he traveled, the granite walls became taller and the tunnel wider. Someone had modified the tunnel. Why? A better question might be, how?

  Of course it was possible, but not without a lot of manual labor and maybe even some explosives to get through that granite. Forget the walls. Concentrate on maneuvering the damn transporter.

  Sam was still alive. She had to be. Whoever had her would not risk getting the diamonds he had safely tucked in his pocket. They would keep her alive until the switch. He would have to confirm that before he handed over the stones. Once they had the diamonds, all bets were off. How would they make the trade? Why the arrival by snowmobile? Wouldn’t it have been easier, faster, by car?

  Damn! The motorized mode of transportation was too slow. He felt as if he was standing still. He wanted this over. He wanted Sam. Now! Frustrated and desperate, Max slammed his fist against the steering handles, and inadvertently ran the Segway into the wall.

  “Shit!”

  He recovered and started again, this time paying attention. It couldn’t be much further. Ahead, a shadow peered from around a bend in the tunnel. He paused and cut the engine, listened for voices. Too far away to hear anything, he made out two distinct shadows moving across the dirt floor. Time to abandon the Segway and finish his approach on foot.

  On silent feet, Max made his way toward the shadows, keeping his body pressed against the inside granite wall. About ten feet from the curve in the tunnel, he stopped and listened.

  “Come on, man. Move faster. The boss said we’ve got to have this packed and ready to go ASAP.”

  “I’m moving.” The other man complained. His voice strained as if lifting something heavy. Max wished he could see what, but if they were busy moving something it made sense that their hands would be occupied and they wouldn’t have quick access to a gun or any other weapon. Of course, that didn’t mean someone else wasn’t sitting there as guard.

  Holding his Glock in a two-handed grip, he took a chance and snuck a quick look around the corner. He caught a glimpse of two men, didn’t see a third, working on crating something, their weapons holstered at their sides. He pulled back out of sight, waited to see if anyone came in his direction.

  No one came. It was silent.

  “Here goes nothing,” he murmured, and stepped around the corner, his weapon aimed in front of him. The men were gone. He scanned the area, but didn’t see or hear anyone. Glancing at his watch, Max checked the time. He still had a good hour before the scheduled meet. He would check Jake’s ETA in a few, but before he did that, he wanted a look inside the crates.

  As he stepped around the first, large, wooden box, he came upon a sand-colored metal contraption sitting next to it. From where he stood, the thing looked like a very large spotlight, not quite the size used at high-dollar movie premieres in Hollywood. He guessed whatever he was looking at cost a little bit more.

  Approaching the machine with caution, he visually examined it. There was an acronym, HEL—DT painted in black on its side. Crouched beside the device, his face a couple of inches from it, he inspected it more closely. That’s when he saw what HEL—DT stood for. Underneath the black painted initials, etched on the side of the device, barely visible, were the words High Energy Laser—Diamond Technology.

  Holy shit! Max recoiled, landed on his ass, then jumped to his feet, taking an automatic step back. “A laser weapon.”

  He just discovered the real reason for the diamonds. Now he knew why someone had been desperate enough to kidnap Kevin and then kill him. If they would murder an FBI agent then Samantha didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. He had to get to her now.

  He turned and ran for the narrower part of the tunnel and the door to where he hoped they held Samantha. As he ran, he fished in his pocket for his cell. Pulling it out, he hit a speed dial number and prayed for a strong enough signal.

  The connection was filled with static but he was able to hear Jake. “I’m about fifteen minutes out and ahead of schedule. I should have an opportunity to scout for and dispatch any plans of an ambush.”

  “Call Ruby. I just figured out how Sixth Element plays into this and what they’re doing. She needs to find out who they are and now. She needs to alert Mickey. I found laser weapons in the tunnel, crated and ready for shipment. To somewhere. Over the border, but to whom I haven’t a clue. I’m going after Sam. I’ll try for a silent extraction, but I make no guarantees.”

  “Damn! I’m on it.”

  “Keep going as planned. If I fail here that meet may be our only option to catch the bastards who killed my brother and save Sam. If you don’t hear from me before the time, you know what to do.”

  Just as he flipped his cell closed, the door he had been about to reach for flung open and slammed shut behind two armed men bursting through it stuffing their faces with food. His appearance must have stunned them because they stopped dead in their tracks, giving him enough time to react.

  He took the first man out with a straight punch to the face, knocking him out cold. Before the second man could react or shout, Max had a grip on his larynx, shoving him back against the wall, releasing the man’s weapon and using it against him.

  “Where is she?” he demanded. The barrel of the man’s own weapon pressed against his temple, he managed to blink rapidly but gave no answer.

/>   Max loosened the grip he had on the man’s throat. “Where is she?”

  “The…the woman…she’s locked upstairs.”

  “Where?”

  “Room right next to the top of stairs. One guy in the hall guarding.” Fear had the man speaking fast, answering questions before asked.

  With just a little pressure in the right spot, the man passed out, his sandwich dropping to the dirt floor before the guy followed, sliding to the ground like a wet noodle.

  * * * *

  Mr. Rosenthal had been true to his word. He had brought her a first-aid kit. “Not that it would do any good,” he had told her, laughing, and exited telling her it wouldn’t be long.

  “What the hell did that mean?” She muttered to herself. “What wouldn’t be long?” Rubbing her freed wrists, she turned back to Kevin, and knelt by his side.

  “Kevin? Kevin, can you hear me?”

  “Nothing.” He lisped the word with a heavy tongue, spitting as he spoke. “Nothing,” he said again.

  When she dabbed at the cuts on his face, Kevin groaned and batted at her hands in an attempt to make her stop.

  “Kevin, I’m Samantha, a friend of Max’s,” she whispered. “We’ve got to get out of here.” She inhaled and released a deep breath. “I’ve got to get us out of here.” Kevin wasn’t going to be much help. They had beaten him much worse than they had beaten her father.

  “Max,” he mumbled.

  “Yes, that’s right, Max.” In a reassuring gesture, she squeezed his hand. “He’s coming.”

  Scooping her arms under his shoulders, and supporting his back, she lifted him. “Come on, Kevin, you’ve got to get up.” The guy was built like Max, she thought, as she struggled to get him to sit up. He was broad-shouldered with lots of heavy muscle. “Don’t move,” she instructed the barely coherent man.

  Frantic, Sam searched the room for a weapon, any weapon. Without making a sound, she checked under the rug, looked beneath Kevin’s makeshift bed, and a musty smelling chair. She even lifted the cushions. She found some change but nothing that she could use as a weapon.

  “Damn it!” She flopped down next to Kevin, kicking the first-aid kit with her boot, and cracking the plastic box. A wicked grin spread across her face and her heart jumped for joy. Oh, yeah. Muffling her efforts with a cushion, Sam finished breaking the box apart. She found a weapon.

  Now, how to get out of the room? With a snap of her finger, she had her answer.

  First, she had to get Kevin in place. “Come on, Kev, we’re getting out of here. Grasping his triceps in her hands, she bent her knees, lowered her center of gravity, tugged him forward, and up. She only stumbled two steps before she had him under control. Luckily, Kevin was not as tall as Max so maneuvering him on his feet wasn’t too difficult. Plus, he seemed to understand what she was doing. Without any prompting, he shuffled his feet forward and held onto her. Maybe they had drugged him and he was coming out of a drug-induced stupor.

  She and Kevin managed to get to the door where she put his back to the wall. “Stand there. Can you do it?”

  Kevin nodded, and she took a small step back, her hand on his chest. He nodded again so she relinquished her hold. He held his own. “Whew. Good job.”

  Did he just smile? Sam shook her head. She must have imagined it. Straightening herself up, she gave a light tap on the door. “Hey, Mister, I gotta go…you know…to the girl’s room.”

  On the other side of the door, the guard chuckled. “Hold it.”

  “I can’t.” Crossing her legs, she danced on her feet as if she really had to go, trying to make herself sound desperate. “I drank a bunch of water…and…if I…if I don’t get to the bathroom quick…I’ll pee my pants.” She waited. “Then you’ll have to clean up the mess.”

  She heard the man grumble then keys rattle. Yes! She winked at Kevin. This was it. Sam stepped back and to the side of the door, and waited, the plastic gripped in her right hand behind her back.

  The door eased open, and the guard, his weapon still holstered stepped into the room.

  She attacked. In one quick motion, Sam kicked him in the ribs, knocked the wind out of him, then in the face as he bent to catch his breath. When he reeled back, she gave him an elbow jab to the back of his head, and sent him to his knees. He reached for his gun, and she gave him a roundhouse to the head, sending him flying to his back.

  Out for the count! She wished she had something to tie him up with but there wasn’t any time anyway. Relieving the man of his weapon, she tucked it into her waistband, and turned to get Kevin, who was definitely smiling.

  “Come on,” she whispered as she wrapped an arm around his waist, “we’ve got to get out of here.

  At the door, she checked for incoming, then stepped out into the hall with Kevin attached to her hip. Now where? Left was how she came in and to the right was a door that led to who knew where. Shit!

  Kevin spoke in a low whisper. “Door.”

  They reached the door, and turned the knob when someone yelled. “Stop!”

  Sam bit her lip. Go? Stay?

  Before she consciously made a decision, the door swung open and a bullet rang out from behind her.

  “Noo!” Max shouted as another shot rent the air.

  Sharp, hot, pain ripped through Sam.

  Max.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  When the first shot rang out, Max’s heart skidded to a stop and his mind flashed. He saw Lucy falling, shot, dead at his feet. The second bullet yanked him back.

  “Sam!”

  Sam was falling.

  “Noo!” A crazed rage tore through him as he gripped his pistol, squeezed the trigger, and fired back. She was not going to die! He fired again. This time the bullet met his intended target. The man dropped like a fallen tree.

  Max caught Samantha in his empty arm, his brother tumbling with her. Kevin! Kevin was alive. Sam was alive. When she landed against him, he glanced down, saw the blood on her back. He couldn’t tell where exactly the bullet hit. The hole was on her left side near her shoulder, but he couldn’t tell if it hit her shoulder or lower. He didn’t have time to check. Hoisting Samantha over his shoulder, he spoke to his brother.

  “Can you move?”

  Kevin nodded. “Getting there.”

  “Here’s a weapon.” He handed Kevin one of the guns lifted off the two smugglers he ran into in the tunnel, the other gun tucked in the back of his pants. “You take point. I got your six, little brother.” Always, he thought, extremely grateful to see him alive.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  With sluggish, unsteady movement, Kevin preceded him down the hall, holding onto the wall every few feet for support. Grabbing his brother’s arm, he hauled ass, steering them in the direction of the Café’s back door. When they turned the corner, he found their escape route blocked.

  Kevin’s gun skidded across the floor as Max jerked his brother back, stepping between him and the man aiming a 9-millimeter at his heart.

  “Going somewhere?” The man asked the question with seeming nonchalance as he wiped snow off his jacket.

  “Yeah, out of here.”

  “He’s a cop.”

  Max turned to stare at his brother. Kevin’s eyes were clear and he knew what he was saying. His attention back on the cop, Max stared at him in disgust, his jaw muscles clenching and unclenching. His hand tightened on the Glock. It would not take much, but he couldn’t risk the cop getting off a shot and hitting Sam or Kevin.

  The older man shook his head, waved his gun in a gesture meaning ‘no’. “I don’t think so. Put down your weapon and hand over the diamonds.” He flashed a smile. “Then you can go.”

  Yeah, right, like he would just let them walk out of there.

  “Peddle your bullshit to some other sucker. Why would I believe a crooked cop?”

  The man’s face reddened. “Because I’m the one who had the girl make those calls to you and tell you to come get him.” He pointed his weapon behind Max toward
his brother’s location.

  “You?”

  “You think I want a dead Fed on my hands?”

  “Then you should have helped him get away!”

  He shook his head. “Then I would have been dead. All I wanted was to get enough money to pay off my debts and retire. I was never involved in any killing. I’m still the law.”

  Max laughed his revulsion. “You’re not the law. You’re some twisted old man who wanted his cake and eat it too.”

  “I love Samantha and her father. I never wanted any harm to come to them, but now it’s too late.” The man’s hand wavered and his voice shook. “I’m in too deep. If it comes down to you and me, I choose me. I’m telling you, just give me the diamonds and I’ll let you walk. I’ll even give you the keys to my truck so you can get away.”

  The man swallowed hard, his breathing increased, and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. The man was desperate.

  “But if I don’t either get those diamonds or you then I might as well kill myself because they sure will.” His eyes widened and his gun hand moved. “Look out!”

  The shot came as a surprise. Max watched in stunned silence as the cop’s head blew apart, splattering the wall and the door before his lifeless body fell to the floor in a cushioned thud.

  “Put down your weapon or feel free to watch me put a bullet into your brother’s brain. You want to see him dead like Samantha?”

  Fuck!

  His Glock outstretched, Max spun to find a man holding a gun aimed directly at Kevin’s head. His heart sank. This could not be happening. He could not have come this far to find his brother alive only to help get him killed.

  “Who are you?”

  “Ronald Rosenthal.” Kevin answered for the man.

  Brad’s father?

  “Yes, that’s correct. I believe you met my son.”

  “He’s dead.” Max informed the man.

  “I know.” The man nodded, not a trace of remorse in his face and cold eyes. “A necessary casualty. Your brother will be the next fatality if you don’t put down your weapon.”