Going Rogue

by Taylor Hart

  His father ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, he does.”

  Chapter 7

  Rule number two for being a trapped POW, relent, but don’t give in. After listening to Marco tell her about how wonderful and exotic and free their life would be in Columbia, how rich and lovely their children would be, Alexa had almost given in to the urge to stab out his eye. Almost. But, she’d been good. Not overkill mind you, he would be suspicious of that. But she’d allowed him to keep her hand in his. She’d allowed him to pull his chair next to hers and sit beside her. She’d put on her best PR show. Lee Iacocca, the master of PR, would even be proud of the way she was spinning him. He was beginning to think he could trust her.

  The funny, ridiculous thing about the whole fiasco was that she’d used to think doing PR for a living was an honorable thing. Now, she realized, it was all just lies. She used to take a person and a product and make it into what the public wanted. The thought of it made her stomach ache. It made her want to puke. How could she have done that and not felt badly about it? It had been wrong. Now she simply smiled and acted the part of a loyal girlfriend. That’s what Marco wanted, someone that adored him, someone that he could manipulate. So that’s what she would give him, for the time being.

  His eyes sparkled, and he pulled her into his shoulder. “Alexa, I cannot tell you what hope you’ve given me this evening, how my heart swells with love. I want you to know that I’ve been doing what you’ve always asked to me to do while I’ve been laying in my bed healing my back.”

  Alexa was smarter than to ask about his injury. She smiled, sweetly. “What is that?”

  “I’ve been reading the Bible.” He put his hand to his chest and moisture filled his eyes. “Colossians 3: 12-14.” He closed his eyes and then recited the verse. “As the Lord has forgiven you, you shall forgive others….and above all these, put on love which binds everything together in perfect harmony.” His eyes glistened. “That is what I want for us. Forgiveness. Love. Perfect harmony. Can we give that to each other, Alexa?”

  His eyes were hopeful. So hopeful. Alexa knew that just as hope was a dangerous thing for her, it was even more dangerous for him. She nodded and real tears appeared in her own eyes as she thought about how happy she would be when she got out of this dungeon and found Sam and her father again. “I think so.”

  Marco wiped his eyes and hugged her to him. “I knew. Everyone around me kept saying, ‘Marco, do not waste your time on that girl. She is no good for you, no good for this family.’ But I knew.” He squeezed her harder. “I said to them, she believes in God. She believes in His love and forgiveness, so she will forgive me. She will find a way. I told them that the best things in life were the ones you had to fight for. That’s how I knew that. Because I was willing to fight for you.” He hesitated and looked at her lips. She knew he wanted to kiss her.

  It repulsed her. The very idea of kissing this man when she was chained to the floor, when she was held hostage and refused any information about the real men she loved, disgusted her. She carefully turned her head to the side. She couldn’t do it. She knew what she had to do, but not yet. Plus, he would suspect something if she gave in too quickly.

  Marco combed a hand down her hair. “Ah, I am familiar with the chase you sent me on, mi amore.” He sighed. “You have been the only woman in my entire life that I have wanted for so long, and for whom I have waited.”

  She knew he meant physically. Sexually. Yes, she’d made him wait. She’d always wanted to wait for marriage…even after Dave had done his thing.

  Marco stood. “I will let you go. It is good. I will come again tomorrow, and we’ll take it slow. You are my gem. You are the only thing in my life. I will not push you. You have nothing to fear.”

  Alexa turned back to him, taking his hand. “You are earning me back.” She didn’t look in his eyes, but kept her head down. She had to make him feel like this was real.

  “Ahh, Alexa, you have no idea how much you have changed me. Saved me. Thank you.” He leaned down and gently kissed the top of her head. “See you tomorrow…and I will earn back everything I lost. That’s a promise.”

  Chapter 8

  The minute Sam pulled up to the seedy bar he knew there could only be one reason that Frank had asked him to come here. To ask him right after he’d been released from the hospital and buried his brother, Frank must have some kind of plan.

  He circled the street and parked a few blocks away. If there was a chance he was being followed, he didn’t want to lead anybody straight to where he was going. He jogged and felt a hitch in his side that told him he should be taking it easy, but he ignored it.

  Low country music sounded through the air as he walked into the bar. His eyes scanned the tables and bar stools until they landed on Frank Fulbright. He made himself saunter through the bar, ignoring the women half sneering at him, half inviting him to them. He passed the bartender who was a big man with crossed arms and a menacing frown. “Only paying customers in this establishment,” he barked.

  Sam stopped next to the counter. “A bottle of water,” he said, without looking at the guy.

  “We don’t serve water,” the man growled back.

  Sam spotted another man sitting next to Frank. He was an even bigger guy than the man standing over him making a bunch of useless noise. He turned to bar again. “I’ll take two waters,” He growled back. The bartender seemed to assess Sam. His eyes did an obvious up and down sweep. Finally, he plunked two waters in front of him.

  Sam handed him his card and cracked opened the top of a bottle and chugged it halfway down. He didn’t make a practice of drinking alcohol. He thought it was a bad habit, and it was a poor excuse for wasted lives. But if he’d ever considered taking up the practice, today felt like a good day to do that.

  The bartender handed his card back and grunted.

  Sam moved toward Frank and was surprised when, upon deeper inspection, he realized the guy sitting next to Frank was Gary from the FBI.

  Gary nodded at Sam.

  “Hey, I see you two have met?”

  Casually, Frank took a sip of the beer in front of him, his eyes already bloodshot and his frame even gaunter up close then Sam had realized in the parking lot of the church. “Tell him,” he said nodding to Gary.

  Gary sighed and glanced over each shoulder, scanning around him.

  “Tell me what?” Sam could feel it in his gut, could feel that this was the moment, this was the opportunity that he’d been waiting for all day.

  Gary let out another sigh. “I probably shouldn’t have come. I could get in big trouble for this, but I’ve known you for so long, and Dave...”

  The sound of Frank’s fist hitting the table, jostled the whole room to attention. “Tell him!”

  Gary jolted back. “Settle down.” His voice was soft.

  “What?” Sam leaned forward. “Tell me.”

  “Okay, I’ve heard through the scuttle butt that they think Marco is in Florida.”

  “You already told me that. And that the line went cold,” Sam cut him off.

  Gary focused on Sam. Then he leaned in closer. “They want to wait to go in because they want to draw Marco out and follow him. They think he might make a break for Columbia. After all, what else could he do? His whole family has disappeared from San Francisco, fallen-off-the-edge-of-the-earth kind of disappear, and we have sources that say a large Hispanic family entered Columbia a week ago. The same source says the Cartel has smuggled them to different places.” Gary sighed. “You know what a nightmare it is in that country to retrieve someone that’s hiding? You can’t see three feet in front of you in those jungles, let alone find one person.”

  “You ain’t telling me nothing,” Frank said. “In Nam the jungle will eat a man alive and leave no trace if you don’t know where to look.”

  This whole digression of conversation was not making Sam happy. He slammed his own fist between them and focused on Gary. “Get on with it.”

  Gary pinched his lips ti
ght and sighed. “The FBI has a CI on the edges of Marco’s group. He’s not in the inner circle. The CI tells us he’s heard there’s a girl being kept underneath the home in some kind of cellar. He’s heard that Marco has plans to take her with the rest of the family to Columbia soon.”

  “When?” Sam and Frank both demanded at the same time.

  Gary shrugged. “My team’s been banned from this whole deal after your little stunt.” His eyes darted from side to side, and Sam noticed he looked jittery and paranoid. He probably should be. He was leaking FBI information. He could end up in prison for this.

  Sam sat back in the chair, and his thoughts ran with this new information. He didn’t have many friends within the Bureau that he could trust. He’d never had to worry about forming alliances or playing a lot of politics. Dave had done that for both of them. A twinge of anger hitched into the spot in his gut that was healing as he thought of Dave.

  Frank grunted. “Saddle up boys. It’s time to ride.”

  “I can’t be a part of this.” Gary’s voice was hushed and urgent. “I could lose everything.”

  “I know,” Sam said it sharply, putting a hand on Gary’s shoulder. He was trying to think what would be the next best step. He had to think. “Thank you.”

  Gary jerked to a stand, stuffing a hat on his head and putting a hoodie over it all. “Look, that’s all I can do.” He nodded to Frank and then paused at Sam. “Good luck.”

  Sam tried to think of every contact he had in Florida. He knew two agents that he’d worked with on Marco’s case before, but he also knew neither of them would get involved now.

  “We have to get to the CI,” Frank said, leaning across the table, hunching on both his elbows. “We have to find out who the CI is and then get the location.”

  Sam stared at Frank. From what he could tell, and stories Alexa had told him, he was a tough old guy. His military background and then his service in law enforcement made him not only suspicious, but also usually correct. When Sam and Alexa had gone to his place in Idaho seeking refuge from Marco’s men, he’d taken them in without asking and then helped them develop a plan to catch Marco once and for all. Too bad that plan had been blown to crap.

  Frank whipped two cell phones out and passed one to Sam. “They’re untraceable. Ernie rigged them up for me before I came here.”

  Ernie, was one of the ex-cop, ex-military guys that had been part of the Marco explosion.

  Frank tapped in some numbers then cupped his hand around his mouth. “It’s Florida. They’re holding her in some type of cellar. Yes, I think it’s the place right by the ocean we talked about. The FBI said they have a CI in the group. Can you find him? Great, call me back.”

  Sam was mystified. “What did you just do?”

  Frank pushed the empty bottle to Sam. “That was Herb. You met him. He was one of my snipers. His son is in the uppity ups in Washington, and he has access to a lot of files and things that he probably shouldn’t have access to.” He shrugged. “I’ve never had to utilize him until now.” He frowned. “I taught him how to gut a fish when he was eight. It bonded us for life.”

  Sam sucked in a breath and realized he hadn’t eaten all day. This all was going so fast which was what he wanted, but the fact that he was about to cross a lot of lines tugged at him. After this, if they got caught, there was no way the FBI would ever take him back. He would never rat out Gary as the one who’d given him information.

  Frank lifted his hand and waved a waitress to their table. “I need some fish and chips and two more waters here, sweetheart.”

  She nodded, and Frank turned back to Sam. He noticed Frank’s haunted look had been replaced by one of purpose. “I’m sorry about your brother. I know the last two weeks have been rough for you.”

  Sam gave a slight nod, but focused on his water. Frank must not know what happened to Alexa. Now was not the time or the place to talk about it.

  The waitress came with the food.

  Sam took a bite of fish. “Don’t worry about my last two weeks.” Fresh anger filled him. He didn’t care what happened to him. He would get Alexa back, and he would make Marco pay.

  Frank took a sip of his own and studied him. “I always told her to stay away from FBI types.” The edge of his lip tugged up.

  Sam exhaled. “You were right.”

  Frank didn’t let him off the hook. “She told me all about you and that she’d agreed to marry you, and then it was like she ran off and dropped off the face of the earth for a couple years.” He shrugged. “It never felt quite right to me, but her mother was alive then, and her mother was close to her. They’d spend hours on the phone, and after some time, I didn’t think much of it. Of course, her mother flew down to San Francisco and then came back and told me how focused she was. I thought maybe she’d simply decided to be one of those women that needed a career, that wanted that kind of life. Alexa had always been too smart for her own good, even as a child.” He teared up. “I was so proud of her. She could crack any coded map I’d make, and she could shoot like the boy I never had.” He laughed and wiped at his tears. “She was a daddy’s girl when she was little and it was fun, but it didn’t bother me as she grew up that she became closer to her mama. I even expected it. But,” he said and held a finger in the air, “when you came storming into my camp a few weeks ago all hell coming down on ya, I realized then—she still loved you, and,” he paused and poked Sam hard in the shoulder, “I realized that you loved her.”

  Sam blinked and tried to keep his own emotions about Alexa under control.

  Frank leaned forward and stared into Sam’s eyes. “So now I sit here, ready to go into battle with a fellow soldier to get my daughter back, and I ask. I ask because I have to ask. I need to ask. Why did my daughter leave you seven years ago? Why did she meet this thug that now wants her dead? Why didn’t she settle down with you and get married and have me some grandbabies?”

  It really wasn’t until this moment, that the awfulness truly hit him. All of this could have been prevented if Sam had gone after her. She had loved him. He’d seen those pictures she’d kept of them. He’d heard her tell of how awful it had been because she’d been trying to protect him and his family from knowing about the monster in their midst. Sam knew he wasn’t going to lie to protect them and the illusions right now, not to this man.

  “My brother raped her, Frank. Dave raped her, and Alexa left to protect me from the truth.” The pain and anguish raged inside of him even as tears rushed down his cheeks.

  There it was.

  The truth.

  Frank’s face had turned from his cop face, the one that was hard and determined and would get answers at all costs, to the father one. Sam could see Frank thinking about his little girl’s life being shattered and how he hadn’t been able to stop it. How he hadn’t even known about it.

  “I’m sorry.” Sam truly was, but being sorry didn’t change anything. It didn’t mean he didn’t hate himself for allowing it all to happen. It didn’t mean he didn’t want to take the glass and slit his own wrists for what she was going through right now. And, it sure didn’t mean that Sam didn’t expect Frank to clock him in the face. After all, what it really came back to was that Sam hadn’t been man enough to go after her. “It’s all my fault.”

  Frank coughed and blinked. “Well…”

  Sam shoved the fish and chips into his mouth, making himself eat. He needed his strength. He needed everything inside of him to get her back. So he had to push it all away and focus on this moment. Not on why she left. Not on Dave. Not on how he’d failed her.

  He had to focus on getting her back.

  Frank’s phone rang, and he wiped his face. “Hello.”

  Sam forced himself to chew and drink, chew and drink.

  “Okay, that’s what I need.” Frank pulled a napkin over and wrote down a number. “Great, your boy will meet us there? Perfect.” He shut off the phone.

  “What?”

  Frank’s nostril’s flared as he stood up. “Be
ready at eight am sharp. Tomorrow, we go to Florida.”

  Chapter 9

  Two days later Alexa stared out the tiny window at the top of her cell, watching the ocean shore. Palms trees swayed in the breeze. The water gushed and then receded. It was beautiful. ‘Lord, please help me. Help me know what to do, how to escape. If it is your will, please help Marco let me go.’ She stopped praying. Hot tears fell down her cheeks. She knew Marco wouldn’t let her go. She’d spent the last two days playing the ‘good wife.’ Pretending like none of the past mattered, listening to Marco quote scripture verses about being born again and how the Lord had taken away his sins. How they could have a good life together. She’d stroked his hand and let him kiss her. She’d put her mind, “in character” as her acting teacher in college had called it. She was a character right now, playing a part so she could get the one thing she wanted.

  Freedom.

  She’d pushed all her desire to know about Sam and her father down deep. Locked it away into a secret chamber where it could only try to burst out because she would not open it. She would not.

  Rule Number three of surviving as a POW is look for weakness and strike fast.

  That’s what she was doing. She was playing the part and making him feel more and more secure with her, so she could earn his trust.

  He came every night now. He had even allowed her to be unchained yesterday though Marsal had warned him against Alexa. Marsal said that her heart wasn’t in it. She’d told Marco that Alexa wasn’t his true love.

  Marco had backhanded Marsal for that. He’d told her to keep her mouth shut and do as she was told.

  After that, Marsal had continued going through the motions: gotten her ready, rolled out dinner, collected the best wine, even put on some soft Spanish music.

  The sad thing was that Alexa felt bad for her. Even though Marsal was an obstacle to her freedom, she still felt bad for this poor woman. She felt sad that Marsal had to live this life and be treated this way. Sad that Marco demanded absolute loyalty and obedience in his family. Sad that Marco really didn’t want the love and saving grace of the Savior. Not the way he thought. He didn’t realize that once a person followed the Lord they didn’t do the things Marco did. They were kind. All simple things that Alexa’s parents had taught her growing up. All things that Alexa had seen in Sam, his goodness, his desire to help others. To help her. Marco had none of that. He was a narcissistic, chauvinistic pig. Nagging worry rushed through her. What if she couldn’t get free? What if she couldn’t get away from this man?