Nicked

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Nicked Page 7

by Michael Arches


  Maude expected him to go for the cheaper alternative. He’d probably even ask her to pay for part of the cost. Fat chance of that.

  Instead, he said, “I’ll take the complete treatment.”

  He took out his wallet and removed a thick stack of bills. One by one, he peeled off thirteen Benjamins and handed them over. Then, he returned his remaining bills to his wallet. Probably another five hundred bucks.

  The woman nodded. “Please wait here while we prepare your operating room. Doctor Hernandez is finishing another surgery, but he will be in to see you soon.”

  Maude clenched her jaw to keep from shrieking.

  Chapter 9

  Safe house near Curt Gowdy State Park, Wyoming

  Athena, Roger, and Hagrid arrived without incident. The house was large, with seven bedrooms, and it was tucked back in the hills for privacy. The surrounding land was sparsely vegetated, except along a creek that ran behind the house. The waterway was hidden within a thicket of deciduous and evergreen trees. According to Roger, this property was a summer home owned by a cattle baron who lived on a large ranch near Nebraska.

  Two DOJ prosecutors, an FBI agent, and two marshals were waiting for Athena and Roger. She was happy to get started with witness preparation, as soon as Hagrid roamed the yard and did his business.

  Two years earlier, Athena had walked out of a stairwell inside a parking garage and spotted two people chatting over a huge bundle of cash. One person was the former Wyoming Attorney General, and the other was a well-known local lobbyist, Dominique Santiago. Both immediately pulled pistols and shot at Athena. One bullet hit her in the brain, rendering her unconscious and almost killing her. But she survived, and her testimony was crucial to bring the criminals to justice.

  DOJ’s prosecutors had already convicted the former AG of attempted murder, using Athena as their star witness, and the former AG was serving a life sentence. Many times since he’d been convicted, the prosecutors tried to convince him to testify against his partner in crime, namely Santiago. But even though the government offered to dramatically reduce his sentence, he kept his mouth shut—apparently too afraid of the cartel. Athena remained the government’s only witness who could make Santiago pay for her crime.

  Even though what Athena had seen lasted only a few seconds, the two prosecutors took her through every detail with meticulous patience. They wanted to know exactly what she’d say in response to any conceivable question raised by the judge or the defense.

  Athena understood why. She had once been a prosecutor herself, and she knew Trish Rankin, the lead prosecutor who would present the government’s case in the upcoming trial. Trish had been Athena’s mentor in the Cheyenne US Attorney’s Office. Athena couldn’t be happier. They’d made a great team back in the day, and she was expecting great things again.

  -o-o-o-

  As the afternoon wore on, Athena described the dinner party she’d attended right before getting shot. She was interrupted when the marshal positioned out by the front gate spoke through his walkie-talkie. “Heads up, folks! Two large Hummers just came around the bend in the road. Proceeding this way at high speed. Hopefully, they’re heading for one of the other ranches farther north.”

  “Shit!” Roger said from where he sat on the sofa next to Athena. “An H3 can carry six men. We may be in trouble.”

  A few seconds later, the marshal outside yelled, “Dammit! Definitely coming our way. I’ll try to slow them down.”

  Automatic rifle fire erupted from outside. The marshal had an SUV he could hide behind, but that couldn’t do him much good against a dozen armed men.

  Hagrid had been stretched out lazily on the carpet, but he scrambled to his feet. The brindle mastiff recognized the sound of gunfire.

  Roger grabbed his satellite phone and dialed Cheyenne’s US Marshals Office to ask for reinforcements.

  He was still talking when a loud boom sounded outside.

  “Dammit!” the FBI agent, Bill Powell, said. “That was an RPG. Daniel has no chance.”

  Roger hung up. “Everybody, let’s get out the back. Now!”

  The FBI agent said, “I left a shotgun in my car in the garage. I’ll grab it and catch up with you—take me less than a minute.”

  He handed his assault rifle to Trish and ran off.

  Athena snatched up her purse, which contained a nine-millimeter Glock, and stood. She was a little unsteady on her feet, as usual. In addition to her brain injury, she was hauling Leo around full time. She followed Roger, but running was out of the question. She hobbled as fast as shc could with her cane.

  He reached for a second AR-15 he’d propped against the sofa, and he carried a semi-auto pistol in a holster on his hip. The other marshal inside the house, Sam Dupree, held a shotgun.

  The assistant prosecutor, Norma Nelson, was the only person who wasn’t armed.

  Roger led them out the back of the house. They’d have to cross a hundred yards of open ground to reach the cover of the trees along the creek, but the house blocked the view of their escape from the intruders.

  The creek flowed down from a narrow canyon running west, which is where the higher hills were. The vegetation along the creek would give them protection.

  Athena hustled as quickly as she could, but she was slowing everybody else down.

  “Listen, it’s me they want, and I’m too slow. A goner, either way. The smart move is to save yourselves.”

  “Shut up!” Sam said. “If we left you, none of us would be able to hold our heads high again. Plus, you owe me a buck for that soda I gave you. I’m not abandoning you until I get it.”

  Although he acted like she was being ridiculous, Athena still felt better for having given them the chance to save themselves.

  Another boom sounded, and the east end of the house blew apart. That meant the garage was gone. Athena stumbled, and a sense of dread overcame her. Did Bill get out in time?

  Roger kept her on her feet. “No lollygagging. Keep moving forward.”

  The explosion was quickly followed by another, ripping the center of the house apart and sprinkling debris all over the backyard.

  They ran past a small well house. Sam stopped behind it and steadied his shotgun on the short structure’s roof. The rest of them kept running to get the hell away.

  Boom! A third RPG exploded. There couldn’t be much of the house left standing, but Athena didn’t have time to check. Roger was pulling her constantly forward.

  Sam fired three times then caught up to the group again. “Took out three who came dashing around the rubble. They have body armor, but I hit them in the face. Ouch. No sign of Bill.”

  Thank God, Sam had narrowed the odds, but the attackers still had a major advantage.

  Right after they reached the band of Ponderosa pines and cottonwoods following the creek, gunfire erupted behind them. Something bigger whooshed past and hit a tree a hundred yards away, vaporizing it. The vegetation closer in protected them from most of the blast.

  Roger snickered. “RPG’s won’t do much good in this thick cover. And, folks, remember, we don’t have to stop them. Just stay ahead long enough for help to arrive.”

  He made sense, but Athena knew the US Marshals Office was at least twenty minutes away, even if they sped. The marshals would’ve notified the Laramie County Sheriff’s Office, but their office was also in Cheyenne. The state park just to the south also might have an armed ranger or two, but those guys would stand no chance against these cartel soldiers.

  Roger said, “They probably have nine left, to our five. We need to stick together and maintain cover. Let’s move quickly to the west. That’s where the trees are thicker.”

  He pointed at Trish’s assault rifle. “You know how to shoot that thing?”

  “You betcha. Grew up in Rock Springs. My daddy, God rest his soul, made sure everybody in the family knew how to protect themselves.”

  Wyoming girls grew up different than most American girls. At
hena’s dad had been just as insistent that she learn how to handle a pistol, a rifle, and a shotgun. Back before her injury, she’d been a decent shot. Now, she had to hold a gun with her right hand and aim with her left eye. Awkward at best.

  All the while, steady Hagrid loped alongside her. That gave her comfort when Roger had to move forward to thread his way through the thicker stands of trees. She kept up with him as best she could without losing her cane or her balance. The two prosecutors remained close behind her. Sam brought up the rear.

  When they came to a barbed wire fence, Roger spread the top two strands apart so everyone could sneak through. But that slowed them down. Hagrid stared behind them and growled. The hunters were getting closer.

  Someone behind them got a shot off, but he didn’t hit anyone. Is it just a matter of time?

  Roger may have been thinking the same thing because he pointed at a side ravine. The bottom was filled with boulders. He whispered, “They’re too fast for us, but this is a good place to surprise them. Follow me.”

  He wove his way through the rocks until they were hidden. He positioned them so only the tops of their heads and their guns peeked out.

  “I’ll give the signal,” Roger whispered. “We wait until as many are visible as possible. I’ll take the first guy, Athena will aim at the second, Sam, the third, and Trish, the fourth. If more than four arrive, I’ll shoot the fifth, and so on. As soon as we start shooting, they’ll look this way. Aim for their faces because of the body armor.”

  They remained motionless behind the boulders and waited. Norma’s job was to keep an eye out behind them for anyone sneaking down the ravine.

  It didn’t take long for the hunters to show up. A stocky guy crept into view alongside the creek. He barely glanced up the ravine. After him, five more armed men came into view. They, too, kept their attention focused ahead.

  Roger whispered, “Now.”

  He shot the first guy in the side of his head, knocking him down. All of them immediately turned to face the ravine. Five more shots rang out, and four men dropped to the ground, one of them screaming. As soon as Athena pulled the trigger once, she shifted her aim to the last guy in line. He scrambled for cover, but there was nowhere to hide. She fired at the same time Roger did. The last guy splayed out on the ground motionless.

  Several other shots boomed until the last man standing hit the dirt. The one who had been screaming thrashed on the ground for a few more seconds before lying still.

  Athena blew out a deep breath and took stock. They’d neutralized most of their attackers. If there’d been a dozen to begin with, three remained unaccounted for. But if they had lagged behind, they sure as hell weren’t going to walk into the shooting gallery now.

  Roger motioned for everyone to remain hunched down and put his fingers to his lips. The area was deathly silent, not even birds chirping. Athena listened hard with her one good ear but heard nothing. Gunsmoke drifted in the air.

  Hagrid was lying right behind her, but he stood and turned to look up the ravine. A low growl rumbled in his chest.

  Athena jerked sideways as she spun around. Several bullets sprayed them. A stabbing pain radiated up her left arm.

  Trish screamed and slumped to the dirt.

  Roger spun and fired his rifle several times. Someone farther up the ravine groaned. Roger and Sam scrambled up the narrow gorge.

  Athena fought to stay conscious. Passing out wouldn’t help anybody. Norma first checked Trish then rushed to Athena and said, “I’m so sorry. I was looking but didn’t see anybody.”

  “Whoever was up there was as well-hidden as we are from the thugs below us. Don’t beat yourself up.”

  “Listen, you’re bleeding pretty badly, a couple of inches up from your elbow. Bullet went in and out. No pulsing blood. I don’t think they hit an artery. I’m going to use part of my shirt and my belt to slow the flow. Hang with me.”

  Although her vision faded from time to time, Athena did her best to stay alert. “W-what about Trish?”

  Another rifle shot rang out higher up the ravine, but no bullet whizzed near Athena.

  “I’m sorry,” Norma said. “She’s gone. Bullet caught her in the temple. I know you two were friends. She was a great role model in our office.”

  Athena agreed, but grieving would have to come later. They weren’t out of danger yet. She whispered to herself, “Where’s our fucking backup?”

  Hagrid leaned against Athena’s good arm and whimpered. She petted him. The mutt’s nose had probably saved her life.

  Norma didn’t speak again, and Roger and Sam remained up the ravine. Athena worried about another ambush. “Keep an eye open down by the creek. If you know how to shoot, I’m happy to give you my pistol.”

  “I grew up in Boulder. I’ve never fired a gun in my life, except a squirt gun when I was a kid.”

  What a shit show. “Then, if you see anyone, nudge me. I’ll try to hit him.”

  She nodded and stayed silent.

  A moment later, Roger and Sam returned. Roger pulled out his satellite phone and talked to a quiet voice.

  Athena’s mind kept fading in and out, so she didn’t understand much of what was going on. They seemed safe for the moment.

  When Roger finished his call, he knelt down close to Athena. “We’re getting you help. Medevac chopper. It’s only a few minutes out. You’re doing great. Hang in there. We’re going to stay here until the cavalry arrives. Could be one or two more bad guys on the loose, and we’d really like to avoid another confrontation. Plus, we can’t move you until the EMTs check you out.”

  Chapter 10

  FBI Denver Field Office

  Beau publicized the kidnappers’ vehicle information and a crude sketch of the woman who’d sat next to Skye right before she was snatched. Then, he and his team spent hours following Athena’s leads but made no more progress. There was something magical about her abilities. She had this incredible knack for sniffing out evidence no one else could. Over the last five months, she’d pointed him in the right direction a dozen times.

  But whenever he asked her how she did it, she kept her answers vague. It was almost like she was creating the evidence rather than finding it, but the proof always stood up to scrutiny. Manufactured evidence rarely did.

  Unfortunately, his FBI team couldn’t move the ball forward after Athena’s breakout run. DOJ had picked the worst possible time to take her away from the investigation. Unfortunately, nobody knew weeks ago when the trial was scheduled that Skye Dunbar would need rescuing now. Beau left a message on Athena’s secured email system asking for any more help she could squeeze in while getting ready to be a star witness in Cheyenne.

  Usually, she responded right away, but not this time. She was probably in the middle of witness prep with the prosecutors and a couple of FBI witnesses. He hoped she’d get a break soon because he and his team were spinning their wheels.

  -o-o-o-

  Near Curt Gowdy State Park

  Norma took good care of Athena. Luckily for her, Norma had worked as an EMT before going to law school. While they were waiting, Athena asked her why.

  “I decided that if I had to work like a galley slave, I should get paid well for it. And I got tired of being vomited on all the time.”

  Or it might’ve been that Athena had dreamed that snarky comment during one of her less lucid moments.

  Finally, she heard sirens in the distance. But the creek was a mile or more from the main road. It seemed to take hours for the first responders, all cops, to arrive.

  Not long after, two paramedics arrived. By then, Athena’s mind had slowed to a daze. Only the stabbing pain in her arm kept her from conking out completely. The paramedics gave her a shot of something that dulled the agony and strapped her to a canvas litter. With a slurred voice, she kept saying, “Remember, I’m pregnant.”

  One paramedic snickered. “Relax, even we’re smart enough to notice.”

  Four guys hau
led her up the ravine to an open area. Hagrid followed along. A chopper landed and took her and Norma to a hospital in Cheyenne. The mastiff wasn’t happy about being left behind, but he knew Roger. Athena told him to stay with the marshal, and her dog knew how to follow orders.

  -o-o-o-

  Maude’s farm

  Skye and Dawn took turns cutting the center bar in front of the window. Skye kept wishing she could’ve smuggled in the full hacksaw, but there’d been no chance to pull that off.

  After five hours of relentless sawing, they’d made their way through half of the first bar, but their hands had become terribly sore. The main visible sign of their success was a pile of metal shavings that had collected on the windowsill. Every so often, one of them brushed the shavings into her palm, walked back into the dark part of the basement, and sprinkled the tiny bits of metal across the packed earth floor.

  The cut itself was also visible, but someone would have to stand close and aim a flashlight at the right spot.

  While Dawn worked, Skye listened at the door at the top of the stairs for someone to enter the house. The blade made a loud grinding noise with each stroke. She didn’t know how much of the sound transmitted through the floor into the main level, but the consequences of getting caught would be terrible. They couldn’t take a chance of sawing around Maude or Kane, except when the old furnace kicked on. Its racket would’ve drowned out the gunfight at the OK Corral.

  Late in the afternoon, Skye heard a door slam inside the house. She hissed at Dawn to stop cutting. The two of them quickly moved the box of books away from the window and sat on their beds. Tried to look innocent.

  But nobody opened the cellar door. After a while, Dawn snuck up the stairs and listened.

 

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