by Robyn Nyx
“Bite down.”
Madison did as she was told and bit hard. She wrapped her left hand around her injured wrist and cradled it against her chest.
“Scoop her up, Dee. We’ve got incoming.”
Chapter Thirty-four
Nat was acting like some Native American tracker. Every quarter mile, she jumped out of the Jeep and checked the ground. At points, Therese was sure she was going to start tasting the dirt, which was probably good practice because when this was over, when she’d made sure her business was safe, Nat would have to pay for this mess. Not the kind of penalty Blake paid; she was way too valuable for that. But she would pay, and it wouldn’t be the kind of penance she usually enjoyed. She was tempted to begin her punishment by not allowing her to take an active part in Ford’s interrogation, but Therese needed her skill, especially when she wanted to make things right. And Therese enjoyed sharing her kills with Nat too much to deny herself the pleasure.
“I found tracks. She’s heading to the caves.”
“We’ve got caves?” It was news to Therese. Not that they’d be any use to her operation, but she liked the idea.
“Yeah, it’s one of the reasons the Navy gave the island back to the Native Americans.”
“As long as there’s no motor boat hidden in them so she can escape. What now?” Therese was beginning to enjoy herself. It was like big game hunting for humans.
“We head after her on foot. You and me. Petra stays here.” Nat indicated to their driver, who nodded her agreement.
Therese got out of the Jeep and pulled her close by the neck of her shirt.
“You know this is going to cost you, don’t you? No matter how much fun you make this chase.” Nat’s eyes half-lidded, just the way they did when she was needy for something extra filthy. “It won’t be enjoyable. It will be painful.”
“Whatever you have to do…”
“Petra, leave the Jeep here and walk back to the facility. We might be a while, and I’m not walking back.”
“Sure thing, boss.” She jumped over the side and headed off, swigging from a water bottle.
“Shall we take some water?”
“Yeah, and bring the ropes.”
Nat’s left eyebrow raised. “You’re going to play out here?”
“What’s the point in having your own private island if you don’t make proper use of it?” Therese saw Nat’s eyes glisten with anticipation. “Don’t think she’s going to be the only one I fuck up tonight.”
*
It wasn’t long before they caught sight of movement on top of the dunes.
“Hey, Maadisonn!” Therese wanted her to know they were close to recapturing her, wanted her fear to heighten. As she’d watched Nat seeking their quarry, she recalled the nineties movie about rich businessmen getting their kicks hunting humans for sport. She was starting to get an idea for an additional business to run from the island, though she’d have wealthy women stalking men for a million a piece. Cocks for trophies.
Ford disappeared behind a particularly high dune and didn’t reappear. She and Nat picked up their pace and closed the gap. As they rose over the dune, a bullet zinged past Therese’s ear. They dropped to the ground and pushed back to cover. More shots kept them down.
“What the fuck? How’d she get a fucking gun?”
“There’s no way. Dawkes wasn’t packing. He was just a fucking builder. There was no gun in that room.”
Nat peered around the rock atop the dunes. More shots forced her back. She looked guilty.
“What’s wrong? What did you see?”
“Two guns firing…”
If Therese could’ve summoned dark clouds to reflect her mood, she would’ve. “Two guns,” she repeated, “as in two people or as in, she’s using both hands?”
When Nat bit her lip, she didn’t have to answer.
“Two people, then…”
Therese took a moment to consider their position. She pulled out her Glock 18 machine pistol. Thirty-three rounds and a spare magazine. Nat only ever carried knives for close combat. They hadn’t come prepared for a firefight, and there was no retreating. Who’s here with her, and what have they got?
“Fuck, Nat.” She extended her arm over their cover and fired off two rounds. Triple came back at them, all close to their position. The shooters weren’t fairground enthusiasts. “Since when do bleeding heart liberals shoot guns like professionals?”
“I don’t think that’s her. It doesn’t fit. There was no sign of a gun in her apartment.”
Therese rolled her eyes. “Remind me to save a bullet for you.” She moved so she could shout over their cover. “KIND OF RUDE TO INVITE YOUR FRIENDS TO MY ISLAND WITHOUT ASKING, DONCHA THINK?”
“NO MORE FUCKING RUDE THAN KIDNAPPING SOMEONE.”
Therese shrugged at the response that was accompanied with more bullets. “WHICH OF US ARE BUTCH AND SUNDANCE?”
“I’M NOT A BIG FAN OF LABELS, BUT I GUESS THAT’S GONNA DEPEND ON WHO’S GOT THE MOST BULLETS.”
More bullets emphasized the woman’s point, and the way she was using them indicated they might have plenty. Therese shot a few back to call their bluff. “Thoughts?” Nat had the razorback Therese had bought her for skinning their kills in her hand. “Little premature. We need them to run out of bullets first.”
“They will. No one saw their approach, so they must’ve got here by water, which means—”
“They wouldn’t have been able to bring a whole heap of weapons and ammo,” Therese finished the sentence, speaking loudly over the staccato of shots.
“Exactly. We’ll all be out soon enough, and then we can make our move. There’s only two of them; my guess is they weren’t counting on—”
“Running into any trouble, and were just going to leave quietly without engaging us.”
“Yeah, and Ford made it easy—”
“You made it easy by letting her escape.”
Nat looked away, unable to keep eye contact. “I’ll make it up to you.”
“I know you will.” Though their conversation was punctuated by gunfire, Therese could hear Nat’s sincerity. She knew she was at fault, and it was killing her. Her loyalty was the only thing Therese could count on. The only thing Therese had counted on for a long time. Nat would pay, but she wasn’t about to get rid of her.
Therese returned some shots with no real hope of hitting anyone. They’d taken good cover and were too clever to reveal enough of themselves. They’d just have to wait it out and hope they ran out of bullets at the same time.
*
Therese had one bullet left, and there hadn’t been any fire from them for a while. One bullet could be all she needed, and she wasn’t about to waste it.
“WANT TO FINISH THIS THE OLD-FASHIONED WAY?”
“YOU THINK WE’RE STUPID ENOUGH TO COME OUT TO YOUR BOLIVIAN ARMY TACTICS EVEN IF WE WERE OUT OF BULLETS?”
God, I’m looking forward to killing that smart-mouthed cunt. Therese lifted her hand into the air above cover, counting on them being out and not being crack shots able to pierce her palm from thirty yards. “SEE? HOW ABOUT WE TOSS OUR GUNS AT THE SAME TIME?”
“YOU FIRST.”
“WHERE’S THE TRUST?” Therese smiled at Nat. “The party’s about to start now…YOU’VE GOT TWO—HOW ABOUT A GESTURE OF GOOD FAITH?” Therese saw a hand appear, and a gun was tossed into the no-woman’s land between them.
“YOUR TURN.”
“TOGETHER.” Therese clicked the safety on so it didn’t accidentally fire when it hit the ground.
“Is that a good idea? What if they’ve got other guns?”
Therese shook her head. “They’re the good guys, remember? They fight the good fight. They’re honest.”
“That’s a pretty risky gamble.”
“Not for me. You’re going to stand up. Then we’ll see if they’re lying and use you as target practice.”
Nat closed her eyes and rested her head on the dunes. She took a deep breath and blew the air out s
lowly through closed lips. She opened her eyes, sheathed her razorback, tucked it into the back of her jeans, and took one last, long look at Therese before rising to her feet slowly with her hands in the air.
“Together?” Nat shouted, her voice barely trembling.
Therese nodded, acknowledging her unfailing commitment and bravery. Maybe her punishment would be the kind she liked after all. She was making up for it now. Nat stepped over the edge of their cover, in full view of Ford and her mysterious rescuers. Therese wasn’t convinced of their integrity, but with Nat still alive and no shots fired, it looked like she might be right.
One gun and the two warriors tentatively rose from Ford’s position, and Therese got a good look at her opponents.
“Is that Elodie fucking Fontaine?” Therese asked Nat, though the incredulous look on her face answered her question.
“ONE ON ONE IT IS. WHERE’S YOUR GUN, HUNT?”
Therese raised her gun and threw it to join the one they’d already discarded, making a note of where it landed. The third weapon was quickly added, and all four of them stood in an unusual and unexpected face-off. There was no sign of Ford, but Therese expected she’d have been told to stay back and out of the way. This was a battle for the big girls, and Ford would offer no skills to concern them.
They advanced onto the flat ground.
“Ms. Fontaine, I’m a big fan. It’s going to hurt to kill you. Are you sure you want to die for the sake of a journalist?”
“I’d die for her in a New York minute if I had to, but I don’t think you’re up to the task of killing me.”
Therese laughed. “I admire your spirit and your acting. You’re a movie star, not a killer. I could put you down in seconds, but I’m going to have some fun. I want to do all manner of filthy things to you before I kill you.” Therese was already imagining Elodie hung by her wrists, her taut body twisting and writhing with every strike, every lash, every cut.
Elodie smiled, and it made Therese wonder which one of her silicone cocks she’d use to fuck her mouth.
“I wasn’t always a movie star, sweetheart. I used to be a Marine. Taking me down is probably beyond a street hoodlum like yourself.”
“I’m calling that bullshit. You’re way too pretty to have survived as a soldier. I think you were just a nurse.” Therese remembered when that tale hit the newsstands a decade ago. Pictures of Fontaine in desert combats and a sniper’s rifle. It was the stuff of fantasy, but she’d spent plenty of time thinking about besting that soldier.
“I guess you’ll soon know the truth either way.”
“Isn’t this the part where you’re supposed to tell us what your grand evil plans for Madison are, once you’ve killed us?” the long-haired and surprisingly tall one interjected.
“And who are you in all of this?”
“I’m her wingman, Ice Hamilton, since you ask, also an ex-Marine, and now CIA.”
CIA? Fuck. “Ice? Good name. Did you give it to yourself? Did Mommy and Daddy call you Barbie?” Nat laughed at Therese’s mocking.
“How’d you guess?” Ice was deadpan.
I’m going to tear your heart out with my fingers. “Enough with the pleasantries, then, I need to know how careful I’ve got to be disposing of your bodies. Any family, friends, or CIA shitheads know you’re here?”
“No one knows we’re here, so if you get lucky enough and kill us, you’ll be home free.”
Therese narrowed her eyes. Ice was cocky, and Therese didn’t believe a gruff word that came out of her mouth. “Ah, you see, you’ve destroyed the trust you’d established by surrendering your weapons. I thought the good guys didn’t lie?”
Elodie laughed. “Who said we’re the good guys?”
“Then you’ve given us no choice. We’ll have to torture you before we even get to her.” Therese had seen Ford peer over to watch the proceedings and motioned toward her. “This is like Christmas.”
They looked at each other, obviously skeptical. “You think you’ve got the skills to break us?” Ice asked.
Nat pulled out her razorback. “I’m practicing skinning people alive. It gets people talking. I think you’ll make a great subject—plenty of you to go at.” Nat waved her knife at Ice from head to toe.
Ice took a step closer to Nat. “You, me, and your toothpick, then.”
“Guess that matches you and me, Ms. Fontaine.”
“I was counting on that. I’m not a big fan of your work, so it’ll be a fucking pleasure to take you apart. But please, we’re about to get very intimate. You can call me Elodie.”
Therese pulled her Mistress from its sheath, its edge cutting the sunlight perfectly. “You won’t mind if I use this to defend myself.” She lunged at her, but Elodie sidestepped and landed a punch across her jaw. Therese stumbled and thrust her knife out to defend against the follow-up, but there was only air.
Elodie just smiled. “I’m in no hurry.”
They circled each other, Elodie hanging back and Therese swiping the air around her. She was quick, Therese had to admit that. In her peripheral vision, she could see Nat and Ice enacting a similar dance.
As Therese feigned a lunge, Elodie moved, and she flashed the knife across her body. It sliced through her tank and across her chest, her blood spraying upward in an artistic arc. Therese followed up with a forearm smash into Elodie’s face. She thudded onto her back, her head missing a nearby rock, and she scrambled backward as Therese advanced.
“What’s the matter, hotshot? Underestimated your opponent?”
Elodie got enough distance to get back to her feet. “I’m just warming up, that’s all. I’ve been out of the field for a while.” Elodie touched her chest wound without taking her eyes off Therese. “This is just a scratch. You were just lucky.”
Therese shook her head. “I don’t believe in luck, Elodie. You make your own path. Reliance on luck, good or bad, is an excuse for the weak-willed.”
“Thanks for the two-bit fucking philosophy, psycho-bitch.”
“You’ve got a foul mouth for a movie star role model. I’ve got a far better use for it. And after I’ve fucked your mouth, I’m going to cut that offensive tongue out and feed it to the island’s dogs, along with the rest of you.” Therese felt her anger grow. There was no need for such disrespect.
Therese thrust the giant blade toward Elodie’s gut. She stepped aside and kicked at Therese’s wrist. The impact loosened her grip and the knife fell to the ground. Elodie kicked it away and followed up with a left jab to Therese’s face and a right hook to her kidneys. As Therese fell to her knees, pain shot through her, and she saw Nat thrown to the ground. Her arm twisted awkwardly beneath her and everyone heard the almighty, unmistakable crack of shattering bone. Nat’s face twisted silently in pain, but she looked directly at Therese, who saw she was beaten. Ice planted her knee between Nat’s shoulder blades and fixed her forearm around Nat’s throat, choking her. Nat’s eyes flicked to the left, and Therese followed them.
Her gun.
One bullet left in the chamber.
She allowed Elodie to kick her in the gut, and she fell closer to her Glock. She scuttled crab-like across the sand, grabbed it, and swung it around as Elodie was upon her. She froze, the barrel inches from her bleeding chest.
Therese grinned, malevolent in her victory. “Sucker,” she said as she pushed the gun into Elodie’s wound. “Maybe I’ll just forgo my fun and kill you.”
Elodie snatched at the gun and forced it away from her own body. “Safety?” she replied, as they fought to control it. Therese managed to flick the safety catch with her thumb, and tried to force the gun back toward Elodie, who was trying to push her finger behind the trigger.
The gun fired its last shot, and they both followed its trajectory, knowing it was in the vicinity of Nat and Ice.
Ice released her grip.
Blood began to pool on the sand. Stark ruby liquid on golden silica crystals.
Therese looked into Nat’s eyes.
They were bl
ank.
No spark.
No mischief.
No necessary evil.
Therese saw where her bullet had entered Nat’s skull, directly above her left eye.
She closed her eyes and opened them again.
Her girl was gone.
She vaguely felt her gun pulled from her grip. Gone. She’s gone.
Felt it strike against her forehead. Welcome darkness descended over her…
Chapter Thirty-five
The CIA team had arrived about half an hour after their encounter with Therese and Nat, which had ended with one unconscious and the other dead. They’d driven the Jeep back to the main compound after a short firefight between the CIA and the rest of Therese’s gang. Without their leader, they gave up surprisingly easily and with no more loss of life.
Elodie and Ice had been busy with them since. Madison thought herself a battle-hardened journalist, but today she’d seen the death of three people up close and personal. It made her question herself and her job. She needed a break, a real break, or maybe she just needed some time writing this biography for Troy. She wasn’t sure. Today had been grueling, and she didn’t want to rush into any decisions, but…there was one thing she was sure of. Elodie.
Regardless of the fact that if it weren’t for her, Madison would be dead, Elodie was all she could think about when faced with her own mortality. Elodie had been her motivating factor for escaping. Madison wanted to get off that island and back into Elodie’s arms. Nothing else mattered. And though she’d doubted her, though she had misgivings about Elodie’s ability to be in this, whatever this was, for the long haul, she’d been proven wrong. It was Elodie who came after her. It was Elodie who really saved her. It was Elodie she needed to be with.
Madison lowered her arm and adjusted the makeshift cardigan sling around her neck. Adrenaline had kept her from feeling the break too intensely, but now her wrist was throbbing with pain. Ice’s backup were crawling all over the facility and grounds, and she could see Elodie and Ice barking orders. It was such a contrast to the calm and soft Elodie she’d been getting to know. She wondered how hard or easy it was for her to slip back into military mode.