by R. T. Wolfe
Nickie paused before rolling down Gloria's window.
"Ivanna Monticello," Gloria said in English. "She knows I am here."
He stepped away and used his trigger hand to pick up the walkie again. He spoke in Spanish. Nickie didn't make out any of the words, but Gloria dipped her head a single time in a nod.
It took only a few minutes before a shiny, black BMW rolled from one of the smaller shelters. It crawled down the road toward them. The guard stepped from the path but continued to point his rifle at the van.
Nickie couldn't see through the tinted glass, but she knew what was in the car. Who was in the car. Her mother. And two to three men with heavy artillery. Nickie turned her chin down and away.
This was a business. Ivanna needed customers, but she didn't need cops and would check every move from the people in the van.
The passenger door opened and a dark-haired man in black pants and a mock turtleneck stepped out. He stood tall and opened the back door. Ivanna Monticello stepped out and stood. She brushed off the pants of her linen aqua pantsuit. Lifting her chin, she walked toward the van.
"Now," Nickie said under her breath.
Gil got out of the back and opened the door for his mother.
"You brought a different man," Ivanna said in English as she looked Gil over like she considered buying him. Even over the residual odor of the fresh hair dye and the dust that swirled around them, Nickie smelled the perfume she remembered from her childhood.
Her vision blurred. Sweat dripped from her temple down her cheek. Images of her mother forbidding her from the horse stables and pleading with her to ride English-style and not bareback brushed Nickie's mind.
"This one is your son," her mother said to Gloria.
"That's right," Gil said and stepped to her.
No, Gil. Not so much.
"Where are the children?" Gloria asked. Her demeanor was unsettlingly collected.
"Where is the money?" Ivanna said.
"I stand in your territory. I have money. First, I see what I buy."
"Bring the children," Ivanna called to the single guard behind her.
He hesitated, but then spoke into his walkie.
Nickie's eyes burned holes in the sides of her mother. Flashes of her childhood threatened to take from her needed focus. Flashes of Gloria as Jun Zheng held her captive, taunting her for Nickie's namesake.
She closed her eyes. Only for a few short seconds. When she opened them, the white box truck crawled down the dirt path, rocking as it hit uneven roads. She imagined the inside of it. It would smell of dirty bodies. Handcuffs would clink as they hung from the sides. They were there as a reminder. They would not be needed. The children would've given up hopes of running away.
"I am a business woman," Ivanna said. "You understand." She smiled. It was sarcastic and evil and all wrong. "Where did she get you?" Ivanna squinted her eyes as she asked.
Where did Gloria get who? Oh no. A breach. It was a breach. Nickie considered calling for help into the audio bug affixed to the underside of the dash. Instead, she pulled it off and smashed it with her foot. She opened the driver's side door, then slipped out and under the van.
Police emergency autopilot took over. Down the man with the gun first. She rolled all the way under the van and kicked the gunman's legs out from under him. "Take cover!" she ordered as she wrestled his gun from him. Not before it shot off three rounds in the air. A swift elbow to the side of his face and he was down.
She grabbed a spare magazine from his belt as she rolled back beneath the cover of the van. It rocked above her and the doors slammed shut.
"Get down," she yelled as she pulled the trigger again and again. Man down. Shoot downed man's gun away from reach. Repeat. Two down. Three down.
A single empty click and she released the magazine. In the split second it took to replace it, a hand gripped her ankle and yanked her along the hard ground. Simultaneously, she kicked her feet as she secured the clip in the stolen gun and shot the arm that pulled her.
Except it was followed by another arm and another until there were four of them, one on each of her limbs.
Gloria. No, no, no. Please, not Gloria. She thrashed like a fish out of water. Freeing an arm, she grabbed the one on her leg by his hair and head butted him. The stars she saw from the blow didn't slow her down, but made her aim off. She found herself hauled to her feet with her arms craned behind her back and legs secured. "One move and I break your neck," a familiar voice said into her ear. She didn't need to see him. She could smell him.
Jun Zheng.
Chapter 30
Nickie's lungs beat like mad. Her toes brushed the dirt as the men dragged her around to where Ivanna stood in her business heels. Gloria and Gil stood next to her, angry tears running down her foster mother's caramel cheeks. Neither had any men grappling their limbs, but each had a pistol pressed against their temple. Nickie could hardly move, but she thrashed anyway. The backs of her eyes burned as panic set in. This couldn't be happening.
Jun Zheng held Nickie's neck like a vice. "Do you think I would not recognize my own daughter?" Ivanna barked, lifting a piece of Nickie's dark brown hair and flicking it against her face. "You have crossed the line this time."
"Murderer," Nickie spat. "This isn't over."
"This time, my dear Nicole, it most definitely is. You see, I did not keep you alive because I feared public attention from your murder. I own public attention. And the police? They are mine. I kept you alive in hopes that you would come to me. Your mother. The one who gave birth to you, raised you from a baby."
Gloria yelled, "You are not her mother!"
No, Gloria. No, no, no. Stop talking. Traitorous tears poured down Nickie's cheeks. She blinked them away, so she could watch what she didn't want to see.
Ivanna cocked her head to Nickie, then moved her attention to Gloria. Stepping nose to nose with Gloria, Ivanna smiled and asked, "And who are you? Really."
"I am her mother. The one who raised her. The one she comes to."
Ivanna looked down her nose from Gloria's headdress to her sandals. "Mr. Zheng," Ivanna said. "You may take Nicole to do with as you please. The woman and boy? Put them in the cellar with the others."
It was too late. The timers would be set by then. They were all going to die.
* * *
The crunch of a foot cracking brittle sticks caused Duncan to freeze where he squatted in the brush. Fifty yards of barren plain separated him and Nathan from the largest building at the northernmost end of the compound. Fifty yards and three guards, if Duncan counted correctly. One toward the east, one toward the west and the third who was apparently a few feet behind him, crunching sticks as he stalked the area.
He turned his head ever so slightly and caught the glance of his uncle. Nathan nodded. Wrapping his hand into a tight fist, Duncan used his legs to propel him, his fist sinking into the man's temple. An expression of confusion ran over the man's face before he fell toward the ground like a fallen tower. Duncan caught him and lowered him gently as he checked any movement from the other two. Taking the man's gun, he shoved it in the back of his belt.
Adjusting his backpack of explosives, he ran east on the balls of his feet. This guard stopped to light a cigarette. Duncan slipped the backpack on the ground, threw an arm around the man's neck and spun. This one seemed equally surprised but didn't go down with just the single punch to the cheek. Duncan was happy to accommodate with another and another until the man staggered.
As Duncan pulled his fist back for the final blow, the barrel of a rifle prodded his back. The guard in front of him fell unconscious while Duncan held his arms out in surrender.
The barrel of the weapon disappeared and the guard grunted. Duncan spun in time to see Nathan shoving the butt of the weapon into the man's diaphragm. As the guard gasped for air, Duncan used the gun he'd confiscated to hit a blow to the side of his head.
Lifting his brows, he smiled at his uncle, put a finger to his mouth and pulled him l
ow. He and Nathan squatted on the backs of their feet and checked for movement. It was then that he spotted the van. Nickie had already announced through the audio bug that she'd arrived on the grounds. He could barely make it out in the dark clouds and whipping dust. It sat parked in the center of the drive.
Pressing his watch near his mouth, he whispered, "Brother, do you copy? Out."
"Busy workin', dude. Out."
"How close are you? Out."
"Not very. Out."
"Aren't you going to ask me, son?"
Duncan waited for Byrd to signal he was done talking, but realized it wasn't going to happen. "How close are you, Doctor? Out." He enunciated the last word.
"Done. Pack up your goodies, ladies and gentlemen. Oh. What?" he said far from the bug. "Ah, yes. Out, then."
Duncan needed to hurry. Checking his watch, he saw he had less than fifteen minutes, smacked Nathan's shoulder with the back of his hand and ran for it. The fifty-yard dash to the nearest shed left him breathless. He was trained for this and controlled his breathing.
Simultaneously, he checked for patrols as he unzipped the bag. The dark clouds and wind reduced visibility, but Duncan didn't need a map. He'd studied and memorized the grounds from afar. Seven buildings. Discarded vehicles that served as useful occasional cover.
Nathan appeared then disappeared around the east side of a central building. Foot patrol. The man in black passed. It took Duncan seconds to secure adhesive putty to the back of the first explosive and affix it to the side of the shed against his back. Nathan was quick for his age and landed next to him.
Duncan's heart yearned to check on the progress his wife made. He couldn't see the van from this vantage point. The core of her being rode on the success of this operation. He dipped his head around the side of the structure.
Two of them. Pressing his back to the sheet metal wall, he lifted two fingers toward Nathan. He counted to ten in his head, and peered around again. The backs of the second guard's shoes disappeared behind the largest shed. Duncan ran around a rusty truck and placed an explosive beneath the front bumper. He considered, then placed another at the back.
Nathan did the same to a smaller shed south of the large one before ducking behind the rusty truck with Duncan. Together, they waited for a third guard to walk by with his rifle resting on his shoulder, far too ready to shoot. They continued until the backpack was empty. The entire east side of the compound was going to light up and, as far as he could tell, the incapacitated north guards had not yet been missed. Nathan stopped and crouched under the single back window of the shed where Duncan hung from the ceiling joist a few weeks before.
Pressing his fingers against his rib, Duncan dug in. The tenderness was gone. A raindrop hit the back of his hand. He looked up. The dark gray spoke to him, mocked him. Water made little difference; he wanted to tell the sky.
Inches from his gray head, the window beckoned. It was nearly time. Nathan elbowed him in a rib and reached in the backpack. He removed the four small boxes big enough to fit two cell phones and two watches.
Swiping his phone, Duncan checked his social media messages once more before disabling it.
One from his office manager, another from Johnny and Bebe Lyons. How did life carry on as usual around all of this?
He and Nathan took the batteries from their cell phones and placed both in separate boxes. They repeated the same with the watches.
Left, right. No one was around. He shoved the phones and watches back in the backpack and stood. Raising his head to the side of window, he peered a single eye inside. Both the bag and the gun in his hand dropped to the ground.
Chapter 31
A topless woman with short, dark hair hung from the spot Duncan had weeks prior. Her head dipped low, her chin resting on her neck. She had six lines of scars on her back and three circular ones that were old cigarette burns. He knew these scars as if they were his own.
His Nickie. His wife.
Was she alive? Darting so that both eyes could see, he squinted through the dusty window. Stepping into view was a face he would know forever with or without his eidetic memory. Jun Zheng. Nickie adjusted her toes along the concrete. He knew what she was doing. She used her toes to try and stop herself from swinging in circles as well as lifting a portion of her weight from her shoulders and wrists. She was alive.
"Duncan. Son. Where are the others?" Nathan whispered as he looked through the window and saw what Duncan saw.
"Find them," Duncan said to him. He knew there was no entrance on this side of the building, but he checked the walls anyway. Nathan took off on the balls of his feet as Zheng strolled along side her, one foot and then the other. Running his fingers around the outside of the window frame, Duncan shook the metal every few inches.
He lifted the audio bug to his mouth and announced, "Breach, breach, breach. They've got her. He's got her. I repeat Nickie has been taken."
With little warning, Zheng pulled his arm back and swiped. The end of a bull rope struck her perfect back, leaving a raw trail of pink that turned into a thin line of bright red before his eyes. Her body didn't react to the pain.
Tucking his fist inside the arm of his jacket, he reared back and shoved it through the glass. He had the shards cleared and was up and through the window in seconds. The bull rope still dangled from Zheng's hands, but he'd had time during the breaking of the glass to pick up a long knife and hold it to her throat.
"Good day, Mr. Reed. I do not care for interruptions with my savage."
Nickie's head bobbed.
"The place is surrounded, Zheng," Duncan said as he tiptoed closer.
Zheng tossed his hair back and laughed. "It was hard enough to hear these threats on U.S. soil, but here? Do you see who I have with me?" He tightened his grip around her. "Your attempts have been futile all along. We regroup. There are always more children." His laughter was short-lived.
The explosion shook the ground. Duncan had affixed two explosive devices to this building alone and the others reverberated throughout the compound. Zheng swayed and darted his gaze from one side of the building to the other. Duncan lunged and jumped into a kick to the side of Zheng's face. He flew backward to the ground, his head hitting the hard dirt with a thud. The knife fell beside him.
Duncan's upper lip curled as he stomped to him and picked up the blade. He spun and used it to cut her free. Her limp body against him, her arms dangling over his shoulders. Gripping her waist, he was careful not to touch her fresh wound. Her right arm slid and bobbed next to her limp body. "I am here," he whispered in her ear.
Silence ensued between occasional remnants of pops. The rain had started. It drizzled over the small village now encompassed with fires.
Chaos erupted outside. Deep voices. Some yelled orders. Some just yelled.
"There is little time," he said and guided her arms into the sleeves of his jacket. "The EMP ignites in less than fifteen."
It was like she woke from a dream. Her arms snaked around his neck. She shook like she was cold, clinging to his head and neck. Tears drenched the shoulder where she dug her face.
Her head shook back and forth, and she mumbled into his shoulder. "George Kruger. Dale Parker. The blood."
Had Zheng drugged her?
"The belt. The carbon monoxide. My body."
Her arms squeezed him like he wore the only parachute as they jumped from a burning plane.
"They all kill."
There was no time. The bomb. They had to get the children out. "I am here for you. Do you know where Gloria and Gil are?" he crooned.
She dug her forehead into his shoulder, slowly moving her head back and forth. He took her by the shoulders. "My love is without condition. You are my detective. My Nickie. My wife."
The chaos continued around them. Zheng stirred.
"Where is your mother?" Duncan realized too late the double meaning behind this question. He didn't have a chance to explain. Nickie placed her hands on his cheeks.
Her wince
changed to clarity, and her eyes grew large. "Duncan. I know where they are. All of them."
Zheng bolted upright. Crouched like an animal ready to spring, he blinked as he looked at Duncan and then to Nickie. "Ahh!" he yelled and sprang. Duncan stepped in front of Nickie, taking the full force of the blow. He and Zheng tumbled to the floor. "We have but moments before the entire compound is down. Go!" Duncan yelled to her as he wrapped his legs around Zheng's torso and squeezed.
Zheng lifted his clasped hands above his head and thrust them into Duncan's ribs. The air left his lungs. He coughed but staggered to his feet as Zheng kicked the side of his head. His vision went dark long enough for a fist to come up beneath his chin, knocking his teeth together.
Shaking his head clear, he spotted Zheng marching to the exit. Duncan scooped up the blade and roared, "No!" as he ran. He tackled him and straddled his back. Pulling him by his neck, he shoved the blade beneath Zheng's chin. "One move and you're gone. How does it feel?"
Zheng jerked and garbled something incoherent, but Duncan's arm wrapped tighter around his neck. If he just held on a little tighter. Jun Zheng. "You touched her. Hurt her." A little longer. "Left scars on my wife."
Standing, he let him drop facedown and stood over him. Zheng lay limp with nothing moving except his lungs. With fires and turmoil ensuing outside of the building, Duncan strolled to the table with the weapons, set down the knife and considered. Bloody blades, knives, a mallet, a handful of zip ties and a machete.
He walked back to Zheng, who coughed in the dirt. "Be glad I didn't choose the machete, you worthless scum," he said and tied his hands behind his back.
* * *
As drizzle sprayed her face, Nickie stood with her knees locked, feet spread. Chaos buzzed around her. She was the queen in the center of the beehive. Only these bees worked for another queen.
A Mercedes stood running idle at the edge of the compound. From inside, Ivanna barked orders through the open window. Nickie did not search for that mother. Duncan had known this. Unconditional love. No matter what she did or who she was. He was her everything.