“I said … where’re my bags, Kevin? Don’t make me ask you again.”
“On the southwest beach,” Kevin spat.
Cal turned his gaze back to Alex as if asking him for the same information. Alex just shrugged.
“He moved them,” Kevin growled. “He went to the beach last night and then came back and said the bags weren’t there.”
Cal released a long breath through his nose, then glanced back at the pilot. “She cuffed?”
“Y’sir!” The man hopped out again.
“Go check the beach,” Cal ordered. “And be quick about it.” He walked back to Kevin. “You worthless piece of garbage. I give you a chance to pay back your loan, and you screw up on the first run.”
“I —”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Cal pressed the barrel to Kevin’s head and pulled.
Alex jolted and Irene screamed.
“And I liked him,” Cal laughed. “Imagine what I’m going to do to you and the pretty woman.”
“Cal, this isn’t you, man,” Alex pleaded. “Hell, we’ve known each other since high school.”
“I figure if I kill you, our family’s square. Since your family’s responsible for my brother’s death.”
“Your brother was a meth head, Cal. You said so yourself. It wasn’t our fault —”
Cal shoved the gun in Alex’s direction. “He was my baby brother. I was helping him. He was getting better.”
Alex gulped, but didn’t say a word. There was nothing to say. And if he told Cal where the drugs were, he and Irene would both be dead. Maybe if he didn’t find them, at least he’d only kill him. After all, he’d cuffed Irene inside the helicopter. All he could hope was that Vince would catch up with Cal.
The radio on Cal’s side clicked. “Yeah?”
“Not here, boss.”
Cal lifted his head and sighed, then turned back to Alex. “Where are my drugs, Alex?”
Alex shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cal’s radio clicked at the same moment that he’d raised the gun, ready to strike Alex in the head. “Did you find them?”
“No, sir, but we gotta go. Fire up the bird. That man’s family is on the way.”
Cal shook his head, then stepped back. “I’m taking your girlfriend here. If you want to see her alive, you better contact me and tell me where my drugs are. Do you hear me? I don’t have time to scour the island, but I know they’re here.” Cal reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, handing it to Alex. “I’ll call you in a few hours, which will give your brother enough time to rescue you. You’d better have my drugs and be ready to make a swap, or I swear, I’ll pull her apart limb by limb and drop the pieces on your lawn. And it goes without saying … but any cops come sniffing around my business or me, I’ll be out of the country faster than they can identify her body. You know I have the means, Alex, so don’t screw around with me.”
Alex clenched his fists, but didn’t move or speak. Cal held all the cards here. A trade was his only chance at keeping Irene and himself alive.
The big man huffed his way around the bend, then stared down at the pool of red staining the sand. “We leaving him?”
Cal rolled his eyes. “No, we’re not leaving him. Put him in the back with the girl. We’ll dump him off the coast.”
“What about this guy?” The big man shot his thumb over his shoulder.
“That one’s gonna deliver my bags to me, or you and I are gonna have a field day with the lady.”
~ Irene ~
Irene strained against the cuffs but didn’t make a sound. Even as the helicopter lifted, she realized that begging was futile, and the last thing she wanted was to force the man’s hand against her — or Alex.
Even though Alex obviously knew where the drugs were, he’d been right not to tell this Cal guy. If he had, they’d both be dead right now, she was certain.
She stared down at Kevin and tears broke free. Yeah, he’d been in the wrong line of business, which had caused her to be in a plane crash. Yeah, he’d taken her hostage and then had returned and bit her … But he was still a living and breathing creation at one time. She had no idea why he was running an illegal operation, but maybe he had a reason. As much as it would make it easier, she couldn’t bring herself to think that he deserved death. So often when there was a heinous news story about how a person killed an innocent, the question was always: why? She’d learned that there wasn’t always a why. Just like this Cal guy … She knew why this other thug was dealing with drugs … because his woman had gone into debt trying to bail out her son. But Alex had known Cal and obviously hadn’t suspected him.
Irene stared down at Kevin’s still pale form, thankful that she couldn’t see his face. Crusted blood matted his dark hair, making the ends curl up as if he’d just hopped out of a shower and towel dried his hair without combing it. Small bluish patches dotted his hands and wrists, assuring her there was no chance he was alive.
It wasn’t the first dead body she’d seen, but it still upset her. She never understood why one human would want to take another human’s life — or their own, for that matter. Even as she’d threatened to kill Kevin, she knew she never would. Well, maybe she could have. If she was truly convinced that it would be her life or his, she was pretty sure she could pull a trigger. But not like Cal did. He hadn’t even cared about an explanation.
Wind … When it came down to it, a rogue burst of wind had caused Kevin’s death. Or … if she really wanted to know, she guessed she’d have to go back to the beginning … to the first choice Kevin had made that led him to work for Cal. If Cal was willing to kill one of his workers without a second thought, what chance did she have? And what chance would Alex have if he met Cal with his drugs?
No way would Cal let her go, which raised another concern … Would it help her case or hurt her if he found out who she was? She’d told Alex that she was a journalist, which was true, but she hadn’t told him everything. Hadn’t told him whom she worked for.
Thankfully, she hadn’t told anyone about her little trip back home. As far as her ex knew, she was still on medical leave. He probably assumed she was lounging around her condo eating bon-bons, waiting for her hair to grow back. Thankfully, she’d only been on chemo for a while, so she hadn’t lost all her hair. The doctors had decided that operating was the way to go, and then had stuck with radiation treatments after the surgery.
Irene focused her gaze out the window, at the tiny dot of land circled with water. Whatever she did, she tried not to look at Kevin or the two men holding her hostage. No, she only wanted to focus on Alex. He would find her, and he’d be smart about it, she had to believe that.
Although she’d given Alex a hard time about his suicide solution, she’d noticed that everything else he did, he did with precision and forethought. He had a plan for every step of their situation.
A CLICK snapped her to attention. The bodyguard, or whatever he was, climbed through the center of the helicopter and reached for the door.
She did her best not to scream or cry or spit … none of those ridiculous things she’d seen in movies. She’d sworn that if she ever found herself in a hostage situation, she’d be smart about it. Instead of ticking off your captors, she’d read that you’re supposed to remind them that you’re a human.
The man pushed open the door opposite her. “Out you go, Kevin!” He pulled a rag from beneath the seat and wiped up the few drops of blood staining the floor, then tossed the rag out after Kevin.
As cold as it was, Irene broke into cold sweats, the kind she got right before she threw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. Don’t throw up. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.
“You okay, Miss?”
Eyes still squeezed together, she nodded.
“You don’t look so good.” The vinyl seat crinkled. “Boss, she looks green. I think she might barf.”
“Well, give her something to throw up in!” Cal barked. “I don’t n
eed her DNA all over my rig.”
“But her hands are zip-tied,” the man tried.
“Jeff, do you want to be with Kevin? As I told both of you, if I have to do your work for you, then I don’t need you. Kevin made me fly out to Middleton. You want me to take care of the woman?”
“No, sir,” Jeff said.
The current conversation was enough to bring her around, but at the chance of being untied, she decided playing it up might not be a bad idea. “Ohhhh …” she moaned. “I didn’t know I’d be flying today.” She dropped her head, letting her hair shield her face, since she was sure she’d gotten a lot of her color back. “I would have taken my motion sickness pills,” she groaned.
“There’s Dramamine in the first-aid kit!” Cal ordered. “Give her some.”
“Noooo …” she drew out the word in a whine. “Too late … for … that. I’d just throw it up.” She added a few more groans and even a small burp.
“She’s right,” Jeff said. “You have to take it like a half an hour or more —”
“If she pukes in my chopper,” Cal cut him off, “I’m throwing you both out!”
Irene peeked beneath her curtain of hair to see Jeff climbing out of his seat and into the back seat. She heard the Fffft of a switchblade, then felt the cool metal against her wrists. A second later, her hands were free.
“Here.” Jeff handed her a 64-oz-size Styrofoam cup. “Use this if you get sick.” He pleaded at her with his surprisingly beautiful baby-blue eyes. She understood what he was saying. Don’t throw up in the plane and get us both killed.
She accepted the cup and nodded, still doing her best to look sickly, which wasn’t that hard. She was en route to heaven-knows-where with a maniac that might do god-knows-what to her, but Jeff didn’t strike her as a killer. And he obviously had some sense of humanity, since he loved a woman so much he was willing to work for a homicidal maniac to get her out of debt. That was something she could work with.
She could reach for the pocketknife she’d stuffed in her jacket, but no sense in bringing down the helicopter. One aircraft wreck in a lifetime was more than enough. She’d wait until the precise moment. Again, something she’d screamed at her TV a hundred times in the last year. Never failed … a woman in a movie would have a knife or gun, but they’d reveal it too early, or try to wield it when the bad guy was looking. She had called foul on the action every time.
Not her; she had tons of patience. She’d been patient for everything she ever wanted in life. And she’d be even more patient with the life she’d fought so hard to keep.
No matter what, she wasn’t going down without a fight.
Chapter 17
~ Alex ~
As soon as the helicopter disappeared from his sight, Alex strapped on his backpack, grabbed the shovel, and sped toward the shipwreck.
“Dear God!” Alex appealed aloud, hoping someone up there was listening. “I know I haven’t made many good choices, but please let me have made the right decision this time.”
Hiding the drugs had to have been the right decision … If he’d handed over the bags on this deserted island, Cal wouldn’t have had any reason to keep him and Irene alive. No, instead of just Kevin, the three of them would be sharing a watery grave. As much as he hated that Cal had shot Kevin in cold blood, he couldn’t dwell on that fact. Kevin chose his destiny when he’d chosen to run drugs. Irene hadn’t chosen this fate, so he would be damned if he’d allow her to pay for Kevin’s sins.
Alex navigated the dunes once more, vowing he’d never set foot on this island again once he escaped. The cold air stung his lungs, and he was seriously lacking energy. A couple of protein bars a day weren’t enough sustenance to replace the calories he’d been burning. Not only was his body burning calories by trying to stay warm, but also multiple fights, survival tactics, and even sex had drained his energy stores. He’d probably lost ten pounds in the last two days.
Still, he pushed his legs until he thought he might drop. The faster he found the drugs and got rescued, the quicker he could make a trade for Irene. The longer it took, the more time Cal had to come up with a plan.
As Alex jogged, he contemplated the scenario. He needed to come up with a surefire way to exchange the duffle bags for Irene. Somewhere public. But someplace they wouldn’t stand out and attract authorities. More importantly, a place where Cal wouldn’t be able to take the drugs and then leave Irene and him for dead.
Although Cal had taken Irene as a hostage, Alex was sure that he — not Cal — was holding the cards. No way would Cal want to lose nearly two million dollars in merchandise, especially since Alex doubted this was a one-man operation. As with most ventures — even illegal ones — there was usually someone higher up. In the world of drugs, that often meant the Cartel, and from what Alex had seen on the news, the Cartel didn’t mess around — and they didn’t offer second chances. Cal didn’t know Irene, but he knew Alex. He knew Alex was a man of his word, so Alex would have to bank on their past. Hell, they’d gone to school together, and Cal’s younger brother had gone to school with Erik and Vince.
Alex climbed the last dune, tromping his way to the wreck. He scanned the skies, making sure Cal hadn’t stayed within range. But he doubted he would. Cal would have had a tracker on Kevin’s plane, so he knew exactly where it was: 26,000-plus feet into the Aleutian Trench. Cal was also on the rescue circuit, so he would have heard a call go out on Alex’s plane. Cal wasn’t stupid; he would have put two and two together and assumed that the plane had sunk. So now, Cal would wait for Alex to deliver.
Alex drove the shovel into the frozen ground. It was easier than it had been the previous evening, but still hard because the ground was frozen more beneath the wreck than where the sun shone daily.
Shovelful by shovelful, Alex removed the top layer of dirt, careful not to drive the metal through the canvas and into the plastic-wrapped bags. Above him, the shipwreck’s residents weren’t pleased. Once again, he was invading their space. The Audubon Society would have plenty to say, but at least he could assure them that no birds were harmed in his task.
CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK. CHK-CHK-CHK-CHK.
Once again, the sound of a rescue copter caused him to breathe a sigh of relief. The chance that he’d encounter more than one drug-running charter/rescue service was hopefully slim to none. He dug through the pack and pulled out the binoculars. Unlike earlier, when he’d assumed the chopper was Vince, he peeked out from behind the ship’s rusted hull, spying through the lens to make sure that the colors and numbers belonged to his team.
When he saw the blue and white chopper, he threw back his head and huffed out an exhausted breath. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Vince!”
Alex dug inside the pack again for the flare gun. He stepped outside the ship and shot the flare, then fell to his knees. “Dear God,” he prayed again, “please don’t let anything happen to Irene. Give me an opportunity to atone for my past sins.”
For the first time in his life, Alex now knew what it felt like when the rescue team arrived. He now understood why, especially in the water, rescuees would almost die at the last second. He’d never quite grasped why before, but the sheer relief that your life was now in someone else’s hands was enough to make you want to relax and finally stop fighting.
He couldn’t do that, though.
Alex picked up the shovel and went back to work as the rescue copter hovered overhead, finding a place to land.
Alex discarded the shovel and tore at the sand with his hands, not concerned with the cold that burned his numb fingers as if they were on fire. He’d be warm soon enough.
As he bared the bags from their resting place, the blades wound down and voices filtered from beyond the outer walls of the wreck. “Alex?” Erik called. “You in there, brother?”
“Yes!” he huffed out, exhausted. “I need some help, though.”
“Told you he’d be okay,” Daire said through a chuckle. “What’re you doing, bro? Diggin’ for buried treasure?”<
br />
Alex dropped his head. He didn’t have the energy to joke around. Of course, there was no way his brothers could know what he’d been through. For all they knew, Old Betsy had just gone kaput.
Erik stepped through the rusted-out hull first. “Why you burying your luggage, dude?”
“It’s not mine, and I’m digging it back up, not burying it. A hand, please.”
Erik fell to his knees, and Daire followed suit.
Alex stepped back and let his younger — and, right now, stronger — brothers finish the task of digging up the duffel bags.
First Daire, then Erik, pulled out the fifty-pound bags. “What the hell?” Daire laughed. “You really are digging up treasure.”
Alex took the bag from Daire and dropped it. He unzipped the length of the canvas bag and pulled out one of the wrapped packages. Both his brothers stepped back. He might as well have pulled out Medusa’s head.
“You freakin’ kiddin’ me?” Daire whipped his head from side to side. At twenty-one, he was probably more familiar with drugs than any of his brothers. “I know everything ain’t so good with finances, but —”
“They’re not mine,” Alex scoffed. “These bags belong to Cal Landrum, and he wants them back. He took someone very important to me as a hostage.”
Erik narrowed his eyes. “You’ve only been gone for two days. What the hell has been going on?”
Alex zipped up the bag. “Load these up, and we’ll talk on the way. Where’s Vince?”
“He’s in the boat,” Erik said. “I’ll radio him and tell him to turn around.”
Alex stood and handed the bag to Daire. “Load it up please and get me some food and water ASAP.” He turned to Erik. “Tell Vince to meet us at Lake Hood. We have to figure out how to exchange these for Irene.”
Both his brothers stopped and looked at him, but he waved them off. “Yep. Not only did I manage to get mixed up with a pack of drug dealers in two days, I also fell in love somehow.”
Alex's Atonement (Midnight Sons Book 2) Page 18