by E B Corbin
"Maybe not." Conor gazed past her out the window. "But we've been in worse predicaments and came out all right. We're not giving up."
"Look, you can do whatever you want." She slumped against the seat. "I don't see why you need me."
"We don't want you giving those agents on our tail more info. We'll have to keep you with us until we're done here." Niall slapped the steering wheel for emphasis.
"No way." Roxanne was beyond intimidation. "I came with you because I thought I might find out more about Roxy's location. It's obvious you don't know any more than we do. We already knew about the Maria Elena and where it docked. We didn't have time to come up with a specific slip but we'd have found it before long."
"You didn't know about the explosives." Conor kept his voice emotionless. "What do you think would have happened if your guys tried to raid the boat?"
"I don't think that was ever an option." Roxanne folded her arms in front of her chest and kept her eyes on the headrest in front of her. "Tommy, or one of his 'boys', as you call them, left me a ransom note on Saturday."
Conor raised his eyebrows. "Why didn't ye mention this sooner?"
"It wasn't relevant. I don't have five million dollars to give them and even if I did, I wouldn't hand over that kind of money to a bunch of terrorists."
He whistled. "Do any of your brilliant agents have an idea why they want five million?"
"It seems to be the amount that was sent over here sometime in the eighties. I don't know why they sent it here, but now they want it back. I don't know what they need it for so urgently, either."
Conor and Niall exchanged a knowing look.
"Do you know what's going on?" Roxanne's gaze wandered from Conor to Niall and back again. "Tell me, if you do, so we can stop whatever it is."
She regretted giving them information without getting answers in return. If these two wanted to save Roxy, they had better come up with some insider knowledge to help with the rescue or leave things to the professionals. Not that she was a professional, at least she had people with experience behind her, who seemed to know what they were doing. So far, Conor and Niall had done nothing to convince her of their competence.
"This was a mistake." Niall looked at Conor then turned back to stare out the windshield. Suddenly, he barked, "Everybody down! There's a car approaching from the left."
Roxanne scooted down as far as possible in the back seat without twisting herself into a pretzel. Conor slid down to the floor, while Niall dropped sideways on the front seat, keeping his head high enough to watch the oncoming vehicle.
"Can you see anything?" Conor muttered into the back of the driver's seat.
"Not yet. Can't even tell how many are in the car," Niall told him. "It's not the blue van, I'm seeing a small tan car."
"That's the same kind of car that followed us from this marina earlier." Roxanne kept her head down, ignoring the cramp in her leg. But she adjusted her position to breathe easier.
"It's Tommy," Niall said from the front. "The little bugger's by himself. We could take him easily enough."
"And he could push the button to blow the boat." Conor shook his head as best he could from his position on the floor. "Stay down and hope he doesn't spot us."
"He's parking over on the other side of the dock," Niall said. "Heading to the boat."
Each second ticked past like an hour until Niall finally added, "Okay, he's on the gangway. Can't see us... but I can't see him, either."
Roxanne wiggled out of her tangled position while Conor opened the rear door and slipped out. "I'm going to try to find out what he's doing."
Normally, she would have said, "Be careful," but she was so disgusted with this entire endeavor, she didn't bother. She longed to get back to the motel--even dealing with Tiffany seemed better than this.
She stretched her legs out in the rear seat, closed her eyes, and wished she had never left the motel room.
Then a giant explosion ripped through the air.
- 15 -
Roxanne thudded against the rear door on the passenger side; at the same time, the window on the driver's side shattered. Her hands flew above her head and her ears rang. Everything seemed to move in slow motion as she watched thousands of glass shards fly towards the front seat. Although she could see Niall's lips moving, she only heard a slight hum.
After a long moment, she turned her head to look outside. Bits of metal and plastic lay smoking on the ground as Conor crawled toward to SUV, with bloodied face and hands.
"Open the door!" Niall shouted at her. Roxanne tried to locate the handle. After the fourth or fifth attempt, she managed to get a grip on it and opened the door. She grabbed onto Conor's jacket and hauled him inside.
Conor collapsed into the back seat breathing hard. Niall shifted into gear and peeled past the restaurant and marine supply store. A rear exit, probably used for deliveries, was partially blocked by a short cross-beam gate. Niall maintained top speed as he powered through the gate, taking one of the wooden beams with them on the hood.
Roxanne vaguely heard sirens in the distance, but didn't know if they were really far away or just sounded like that to her plugged ears. Conor pulled himself up, wiping blood from his eyes as he muttered something. Still in shock herself, she could not make out his words.
Only when they were a safe distance from the marina did Niall slow and turn into a deserted warehouse parking lot. He pulled around to the back of the building before braking to a stop and cutting the engine.
Then he twisted to study Conor. Seconds later, he jumped out of the car and ran to the rear where he threw open the hatchback. After some fumbling, he found the first aid kit hidden near the spare tire then rushed to Conor and began wiping the blood from his compatriot's face.
Roxanne saw that most of the blood came from a cut on Conor's forehead; it didn't look so awful once it was cleaned up. Niall applied pressure until the bleeding slowed to a trickle, spread some antiseptic cream on the cut and carefully stuck three small Band-Aids side by side to close the wound.
"There, now. You should be good as new in a few hours." Niall looked over at Roxanne. "Do you have any wounds, lassie?" His voice sounded muffled but, for once, held no cutting edge.
"I'll be fine," she mumbled. "Just a little shook up. What happened back there?"
"I'm guessing that Tommy set off the charge." Niall looked at Conor for confirmation.
The other man nodded but added, "I doubt he did it on purpose."
Niall lowered his head. "Did the bugger get away?"
Conor stared at the rear of the driver's seat. "No, I'm afraid he didn't make it. He was on the lower deck when the blast went off. I saw him get thrown into the water." He shook his head.
"Jaysus!" Niall cried. "What an eejit! Poor Tommy was always mad as a box of frogs. Didn't have the sense of a concrete block."
Conor continued staring at the back of the front seat. "I'm not certain Tommy set off the charge. I saw a flicker of astonishment on his face before he was flung over the side."
"Maybe the water saved him." Roxanne's mind remained foggy; the explosion still seemed to reverberate through her head. She leaned back in the seat, unable to move a muscle. The ringing in her ears turned into a dull, muted purr. She could hear, but it still sounded as if all the words were coming through a tunnel.
"Nay, lassie, Tommy's a goner, for sure. Never did like the water, never learned how to swim," Niall said. He made the sign of the cross, looked at the ground and started to pack up the first aid kit. "Me ma's gonna be in tatters."
"I'm sorry," Conor said. "It happened so fast, there was nothing I could do."
"Wasn't ye fault," Niall said. "Tommy's always been off his nut, never could do anything right. Never shoulda been messing around with explosives."
"Are you certain he knew about the booby trap?" Roxanne asked. "Maybe he had no idea the boat was rigged."
"Doesn't make any sense." Conor shook his head with care. "If Tommy didn't do it, then who did?"
Roxanne rubbed a hand across her forehead, letting it rest above an eyebrow. "Could someone else have been sent over, or someone was already here waiting for him? Maybe the IRA bosses were beginning to wonder if Tommy could find the cash. Or maybe they doubted his loyalty."
"Possible," Conor said. "But we didn't hear anything about it from our mate. We'll have to check in with him, let him know the latest and find out if there's something he's not telling us."
"How well-connected is this guy you're getting information from? Could he be lying to you?" Roxanne asked.
"Nay, Brian's a good chap. Wouldn't steer us wrong on purpose. But he's a low-level member, doesn't know everything." Niall fumbled with the lid to the first aid kit while attempting to shut it.
Roxanne noticed Conor's lack of response. Perhaps he didn't trust this Brian as much as Niall. But then Conor had been much closer to the explosion. His mind could be foggier than hers.
"I need to get back to the motel," she said in an apologetic tone. "The agents are probably searching for me."
"She's right." Conor deflated in front of her eyes. "Nothing we can do here now."
Niall looked ready to argue, but instead he walked around to the rear of the SUV to put away the first-aid kit. He brushed most of the safety glass from the driver's seat, and heaving an exhausted sigh, started the SUV. After carefully winding out of the parking area, they merged onto Bayfront Parkway and stayed well within the speed limit as they headed to the motel. Frigid air blew into the vehicle with a vengeance through the missing window on the driver's side. But the three weary passengers barely noticed as they rode in silence.
When they approached the motel entrance, Conor checked out Penn State's parking lot. "The van's gone," he said, his voice a croak.
"The McCarthy boys are too dumb to carry out the mission themselves," Niall offered. "I guess it's over."
"Not quite." Conor's eyes closed as his chin slipped to his chest. "They don't have the money and we don't have Roxy."
"You think Roxy survived that blast?" Roxanne averted her gaze from the look of defeat on Conor's face. She steeled herself for his answer, telling herself she would deal with it later.
After a long pause, he sighed and opened his eyes. "I doubt Roxy was on the boat."
"But..."
Conor slowly shook his head to silence her. "I had a clear view of the boat when it blew, and the only body I saw was Tommy's. I think they're holding her somewhere else, and that's where the McCarthy's are going right now."
"Then I don't hold too much hope for Roxy's chances." Niall pulled to the back entrance of the motel. "Those boys are both dumb and nasty."
"I've got to try to reach Brian," Conor said. "I don't want to keep putting him in a bad position, but we've got no other leads right now."
"So, I can assume that I'll not be seeing you again?" She hoped the answer would be yes. By now, she'd had enough of almost trusting them, finding out she couldn't rely on them for much of anything, and finally feeling sorry for them. She'd be better off with Callahan and his team, even Tiffany.
"Never say never," Conor said. "We might need help if we can locate where they're holding Roxy."
"What do you think I can do? I'm not a trained fighter. I can barely keep myself safe, let alone assist with a rescue attempt."
"Maybe we'll need the help of your friends." He twisted his hands. "Much as I'd hate to ask for it."
"Humph," Niall snorted from the front seat.
When they stopped, Roxanne took one last look at the man slumped beside her. "Conor should be looked at by a doctor," she told Niall.
"We take care of ourselves." Niall waved her off. "Just go on, now, get out of here."
Roxanne opened the door and stumbled out. For a moment, she thought she might pass out, but she shook her head and regained her balance by the time the SUV roared out of the parking lot.
She tried to recall her room number but her brain felt soft, like ice cream leaking from her ears. In a daze, she pushed through the revolving doors, trying to figure out which direction to turn once inside the warm lobby.
A businessman pulling a suitcase nearly ran her over when she stood frozen in the sudden warmth of the lobby, unknowingly blocking the entrance. To get out of his way, she stepped sideways knocking into a potted plant that graced the doorway to a dim bar and lounge.
"Hey! There she is," a voice cried from the gloom.
Roxanne didn't have time to bolt before a hand grabbed her and swung her around.
"My God, Roxanne, we've been looking all over for you. We were getting ready to call the police." Tiffany stared at her with relief.
Roxanne wished it were anyone except Tiffany but she felt so grateful to be in one piece, she almost smiled at the agent. "Well, I'm here." Her attempt to sound unruffled came out in a chirp. "You can call off the hounds."
Tiffany tapped her ear twice and, almost immediately, Callahan and Pete came bounding around the corner from the elevators. "Jesus Christ!" Callahan pulled her into a hug. "Where were you?"
"I found her hiding behind a plant in the lobby," Tiffany answered as if Callahan was speaking to her.
"I wasn't hiding." Roxanne wiggled out of his arms. "I accidentally walked into a potted palm."
"Looked like you were hiding to me." Tiffany was determined to get in the last word.
Callahan shook his head. "She's safe, that's what matters."
"I think you have some explaining to do." Pete's frown turned to a grin. "Let's grab a table in the bar."
"I'd, uh, I'd like to talk to you and Callahan alone," Roxanne said. She didn't look at Tiffany, hoping the other woman would leave without taking offense. Tiffany was still on the untrustworthy list. Someone had been feeding Tommy and his boys info on Roxanne's whereabouts. Of course, it could have just as easily been Callahan, or Gabe, or Ron, but Tiffany ranked right up there.
"Hell, I can take a hint." Tiffany stepped back from the group. "I'll go find Ron and Gabe to let them know we've found her. You two talk to the princess." The agent departed with a shake of her head.
Callahan watched Tiffany leave before turning to Roxanne. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Let's sit at a table." Her knees wobbled. She didn't know how long she could stand upright. "I need a drink."
"Do you think that's smart?" Pete asked. "You might need all your wits about you."
"I don't have many wits left, at this point." She moved to a table tucked in the closest corner and sank into a chair. Pete and Callahan looked at each other before they followed her.
"So..." Callahan started but was interrupted by the appearance of a waitress ready for their order.
"Wine?" Pete asked Roxanne.
"No, scotch," she said. "Macallan, on the rocks."
Callahan raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Both he and Pete ordered a beer.
When the waitress left, both men turned to Roxanne and waited for her to begin.
"Okay, so I'll start with the fact that you," she pointed to Callahan, "pranced out of your room to have lunch with your friends and left me trapped in my room with an IRA member."
"What?" Callahan raised both eyebrows. "I asked you if everything was okay before we left."
"And you didn't pick up on the faces I was making, the way I kept rolling my eyes?"
"I thought you were pissed that we were going to lunch while you were stuck in the room staying out of sight."
"Some detective you are," Roxanne huffed. "Conor was behind the door with a gun in his hand."
"I'm sorry." Callahan reached for her hand. "How the hell did they know where we were staying?"
"Someone told them." She kept her voice low and glanced over her shoulder. "They've been getting info from a person who knows every move we make."
"That's not possible." Callahan shook his head.
"It's not only possible, it's a certainty." Roxanne pulled her fingers from his, lifted both hands and dropped them to the table. "You have anoth
er explanation for how these Irish dudes keep showing up?"
Callahan slumped against his seat, while Pete took over. "So, where have you been all this time? We've been searching for you for at least two hours."
"I've been out at the Maria Elena." Her voice began to tremble as she recalled the devastation. "Which, by the way, isn't relevant anymore. The boat blew up while we were watching it."
"What?" Callahan sat upright at this news.
"It was blown to smithereens right in front of our eyes."
"Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?" Pete put on his cop demeanor. "Did you see who did it?"
"We saw an Irish guy, one of the three you haven't been able to locate." Roxanne looked at Callahan with a hint of reproach. "He was on the deck when the boat blew."
Callahan rubbed his forehead. "This is turning into a fucking mess!"
"Conor told me..." she began to say.
"Conor?" he interrupted.
"Conor Walsh," Roxanne said, too tired to feel impatient. "I told you about him when they grabbed me in Oilville. Anyway, as near as I can tell, he's one of the good guys."
"There are good guys?" Pete asked.
She explained Conor's connection to Roxy and how her mother trusted him more than any of the Diplomatic Security Agents.
"First I've heard of it," Callahan muttered.
"Yeah, well, Roxy seemed to think you couldn't be trusted, either. That's why she called Conor and asked for his help."
"Wait! What? Why didn't she trust me?" Callahan's face turned a hint of red. It was the first time she'd seen him angry.
"I have no idea," she shrugged. "Roxy talked to Conor in some kind of code they developed years ago. She never named names, but there was somebody she didn't trust."
"And you think it's me," he said.
"It could be any of the agents...it could be Tiffany or Gabe or Ron or someone I don't even know," Roxanne admitted. "If it means anything, I trust you more than the others."
"But you trust this Conor guy, whom you only met when he grabbed you off the street," Callahan stared at the table instead of looking at her.