Noble Intentions: Season Two (Episodes 6-10)

by L. T. Ryan

  Mandy wriggled against his grasp. Every movement she made resulted in her becoming pulled closer and tighter.

  Pierre brought the gun up a few inches, turned it inward. He opened his eyes. Looked down at the top of her blond head. He held the gun tight and placed his finger on the trigger. It felt ice cold against the tip of his index finger.

  He heard a click, like the sound of a small twig snapping. He looked up, to the left. Saw a glint of light. Saw a man standing there. Saw him raising a gun and aiming it at them.

  Pierre lifted his arm and quickly aimed in the direction of the man. He pulled the trigger three times. At least one bullet hit the man and he fell back and hit the ground.

  Pierre scooped Mandy in his arms and ducked behind the first alley he could find. He ran as fast and as hard as he could. He crossed the road without looking left or looking right. Continued on and into the next alley, between two buildings. He stopped. Set the girl down and then bent over, catching his breath. The little girl cried. Pierre pulled her close and hugged her.

  “I’m sorry, darling,” he said. “I had to or he would have shot us.”

  She continued to cry.

  He looked up at the sky and said, “Jack, I did right by you and trust that you’ll do right by me.”

  7

  Bear stood in front of a brick wall, in between two pools of light cast down from street lights that sat atop chipped wooden utility poles. The air was still. The block wide buildings on either side of the alley shielded him from the breeze. The narrow alley was empty. Cars passed by on the city roads at each end. None stopped. None turned. The view above offered no signs of life. No light filtered through sheer curtains. No noise slipped through cracked windows. The alley, much like the town itself, had the appearance of being, for lack of a better word, dead. Of course, Bear now realized that Knoxville was nothing like it appeared.

  He tried to remain as inconspicuous as a man of his size could. He checked his watch and saw that Pierre was ten minutes late. Bear forgot about trying to stay out of sight.

  He pulled out his radio and said, “Pierre? Larsen? Anyone out there?”

  He lifted his finger off the transmit button and received static in response. Had he been double crossed? He looked left, then right. Still alone. He started to form a plan should things take a turn for the worse.

  Finally a voice came over through the speaker on the radio. “Bear, it’s Pierre. I have Mandy. We are a few blocks away.”

  Bear leaned over and placed his hands on his knees. He took a deep breath and exhaled. Lifted the radio to his face and said, “Which way? I’ll start making my way over.”

  “No,” Pierre said. “Stick to the plan. Too many moving parts complicates things.”

  Bear nodded to no one and then said, “OK.”

  The radio returned to silence. Bear paced a ten foot span of the alley. He stopped, facing north, and noticed several cars passing on the street. Eight cars in total. Four close together, then a slight break, then four more. They didn’t stop, and that was all that Bear cared about. He continued pacing. By this point he had retrieved his pistol and held it in his hand, letting it hang down to the side.

  Footsteps echoed through the corridor and he stopped. The sounds came from behind him. He slowly turned his head to his right and looked over his shoulder. He saw two silhouettes. One held a gun. The other stood four feet six inches tall. He spun and started walking toward them.

  “Bear,” the familiar voice called out.

  Bear knelt down and waited for Mandy. She ran into him and hit him with the force of a small car. Threw her small arms around his neck. He wrapped her up and lifted her into the air.

  Pierre continued to approach, slowly.

  Bear watched with caution. The man had been sent to kill him, after all. Perhaps he was still intent on doing so.

  Bear nodded.

  Pierre stopped and nodded back.

  “Clarissa will meet us at the house tonight,” Pierre said.

  “We should head back then.”

  “We should split up.”

  “Not safe.”

  “Neither is traveling in a group.”

  “Pierre…”

  “Take her, go to the car, and get to the house. I’ll walk. I think I’ll set up across the street from the house.”

  “Why?”

  “To watch for bad guys.”

  “They don’t know nothing about me, Pierre. Come to the house. Come in. We’ll wait for Clarissa and hammer out our plan.”

  Pierre said nothing. He saluted Bear and turned and ran through the alley. He turned the corner. The echo of his footsteps faded.

  Bear set Mandy down and looked her over. “Are you OK?”

  She nodded and wiped tears from her cheeks and eyes.

  “You sure? Did they harm you? Do anything to you?”

  She shook her head. “No, they were nice to me. I had my own room. It was OK.”

  A weight lifted off Bear’s chest. He grabbed Mandy’s hand. “Let’s go. I think we might skip the car and just go to the house.”

  “What if we need to leave later?”

  “It’s Larsen’s car, not ours.”

  “Who’s Larsen?”

  “You’ll meet him soon.”

  They walked hand in hand to the south end of the alley. Turned left at the corner. Streetlights turned night into day on the main road. The stores were all closed, their lights were off. Bear looked at their reflections in the dark windows. Traffic from Main Street, two blocks away, hummed in the background. The noise blocked out the sound of footsteps behind them until it was too late. Bear spun around and saw two men, armed, standing ten feet from them.

  The guy on Bear’s right spoke with a Russian accent. He said, “Where do you think you are going with our girl?”

  Bear felt Mandy squeeze in next to him on his left side. He placed his hand on her shoulder. Just inside his jacket was his gun. But he dared not reach for it for fear of the men unloading on them. He had to get the men closer. Draw them in. That would be a fight he could win. But until that happened, he knew he was screwed.

  8

  Jack landed in Des Moines after nine p.m. He grabbed a rental car. Reached out to Frank. They had narrowed down his search zone to a nearby city called Knoxville. Best guess, Frank had said. Jack shook his head. Might as well have reached into a hat and pulled the name out. He took solace in one thing. Frank’s best guesses were better than the facts most others provided.

  He left the airport and drove southeast on Highway 5. Twenty minutes later he found himself in Knoxville.

  The town was small and quiet and didn’t offer much in the way of answers to finding Jasmine. He drove through the grid-like city streets east to west and north to south. Turning left then right, at random. Something pushed him. Told him to keep going. He’d find her if he kept on. And that was what he would do. He wouldn’t stop until he found her, and he’d kill anyone that got in his way.

  He found himself on Main Street again. He had already driven the length of it west and was now making a pass going east. He reached the edge of the downtown district. Turned right on 5th Street, and right again on Robinson. He drove another block and pulled up to the curb. Cut his headlights. Leaned forward and narrowed his eyes as he scanned the sidewalk ahead.

  Jack saw four people. Two men standing side-by-side, their backs to Jack. Ten feet or so in front of them stood a man and a little girl. The man looked huge. The shape all too familiar to Jack.

  It couldn’t be.

  He looked at the two men, backs to him, side-by-side. Studied them. They stood with similar posture. Slightly hunched over. Left arms dangling. Right arms cocked at the elbow. In front of their bodies they aimed weapons at the man and the child. Jack couldn’t see it, but he’d seen the posture enough to know.

  Jack placed his left hand on the door handle. His right hand traveled inside his jacket instinctively, reaching for his gun. He didn’t have one. He had to ditch it at the air
port.

  “Christ,” he muttered under his breath.

  One of the men stepped forward. The man’s arm straightened and Jack saw the gun. A car turned a corner about the same time and its headlights washed over the scene. There was no denying it.

  Bear and Mandy.

  Jack’s spine and hands and feet tingled. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. The excitement he felt over seeing his old friend quickly dissipated as the gravity of the situation they were in became clear. Panic started to set in. All Jack’s training and experience kicked into gear and he channeled his emotions into action.

  The man closed in on Bear. Jack knew his friend needed a hand. Something that Jack could provide. The element of surprise. He dropped the car into drive and peeled off. Tires screeched against asphalt. Rubber burned as it tore against the jagged road. He placed his hand on the horn and didn’t let up.

  Bear reacted as Jack guessed he would. With his left hand he pushed Mandy behind him. With his right, he disarmed the guy who had turned his head, looking back at Jack. Then Bear placed him into a choke hold. The second man watched as Jack’s rental car approached. Jack hit the brakes and the tires squealed. Jack hit the sidewalk and yanked the wheel to the right, sending the car into a fishtail. It stopped sideways. Back tires on the street. Front tires on sidewalk. Only a car door and ten feet of concrete separating Jack from the man.

  Jack flung the door open and charged the stunned man. The guy lifted his arm and squeezed the trigger, firing wildly into the air. The bullet missed Jack by several feet. The man didn’t recover quickly enough and Jack knocked the gun out of the guy’s grip with his left hand. Drove his right hand into the bridge of the man’s nose.

  “Jack?” Bear said.

  Jack had leaned over and delivered four more blows to the man’s head. Then he looked up and smiled at his old friend, who had already disposed of his attacker.

  “Is that really you?” The big man threw his hands behind his head and stared at Jack in disbelief. He opened his mouth repeatedly, but the only sounds to escape were unintelligible grunts.

  “I’d love to stay here and catch up, maybe grab a cup of coffee, but I’ve got business to take care of.” He cast his eyes toward at the men on the ground. “Looks like you do too. Care to team up?”

  Bear nodded.

  “Get in the car, get Mandy in the car.”

  The trio jumped in the rental vehicle and Jack pulled into the street and headed out of town.

  After a minute or two, Bear said, “What the hell is up with that beard? And the hair? And…” he paused, his face a mixture of confusion and excitement and adrenaline. “You’re dead. What the hell are you doing here?”

  Jack grinned. “I’m not dead.”

  “Mr. Jack?”

  Jack looked over his shoulder at Mandy. “Yeah, sweetie?”

  Mandy leaned forward and stuck her head in between the front seats. “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

  Jack laughed. “Me too.”

  “I was scared for you.”

  “Me? You don’t have to be scared for me. Just like I don’t have to be scared for you. Not when Bear is around to protect you.”

  The little girl smiled and leaned her head against Bear’s shoulder.

  Jack looked at Bear. “Where’re we going?”

  Bear gave him directions to the house and Jack told him everything that had happened. He told him about Black Dolphin. About the escape and the paralytic agent. Bear had questions about that and Jack had to shrug. He hadn’t had time to broach the subject with Frank. Jack moved on to Greece and the six months he spent there. How he tried to call Bear, but the number had been disconnected. Bear only nodded and offered up no excuses as to why. Jack told him how he ended up back in the States and the commitment he made to Frank.

  And then he told him about Jasmine and the Russians and the plot for a massive terrorist strike.

  “Jesus, Jack,” Bear said. “That’s one hell of a story.”

  “Couldn’t make it up, big man.” Jack looked out the window at a line of dark houses with box shaped yards. Was Jasmine inside one of these homes? “Now I just need to find where they are keeping her.”

  “We can help with that.”

  “Yeah?” Jack said. “We?”

  Bear smiled. “Yeah, we.” He pointed across the dash. “That’s the house. Turn on the next street. We should park a few houses away.”

  9

  The crowd inside the gallery had thinned over the past half hour. Clarissa noted that if she was going to leave undetected, now would be the time. A large group gathered by the front door. They were talking and hugging and saying their goodbyes. She joined them. Placed herself in the middle of the group as they moved in unison through the doors.

  She cast a glance over her shoulder. No one had watched her leave. A clean escape.

  She hung with the group, drifting toward the back, as they left the gallery and turned right. One man, close to the front said, “Let’s go to Ted’s Bar for a drink.”

  The others in the group voiced their approval.

  Clarissa figured she should join them and look for an opportunity to leave from within the bar.

  They walked the block or so to Ted’s and the man in the front who suggested the bar held the door open. He was tall with a full head of gray and black hair. He wore steel rimmed circular shaped glasses. Had a broad smile spread across his face. He spouted off each person’s nickname, or real name, or perhaps a name he invented on the spot. When everyone had passed through the open doorway and only Clarissa remained, he lowered his gaze and said, “Well, I have no name for you, now do I?”

  “Janice,” she quickly said.

  “Well, hello, Janice. I’m Gary. Care to have a drink?”

  She smiled and passed by and sought the anonymity that only a dark and crowded bar could provide. The group huddled around the bartender and she passed by, choosing an empty table toward the back of the establishment. She sat with her back to wall. She had a view of the room, the bar and the door. If anyone entered, she’d notice. At least, she would when Gary got out of her way.

  “Help you?” she said.

  “How about that drink?” he said.

  “I’ll pass.”

  “Waiting for someone?”

  She looked at him, then at the door, then back at him. “Yes.”

  He lifted his hands and stepped back. “I’ll be up at the bar if he doesn’t show.”

  She wished she hadn’t followed the group inside. Gary was making it hard for her to go unnoticed. His lingering by her table had cast several unwanted eyes in her direction. A waitress came by and Clarissa ordered a beer. A few moments later the waitress returned with the beer and set it on the table. Clarissa took a long pull from the frozen glass mug. She savored the taste. The bar remained in a state of equilibrium for several minutes. No one entered. No one left. People chose tables and a few remained on barstools.

  Would the balance change soon? Would some of Boris’s men leave the party and take refuge at Ted’s?

  Clarissa finished her beer, dropped a five dollar bill on the table and placed the mug on top of the money. She followed a corridor behind her to the lady’s room. She stepped into the restroom and noticed a window on the opposite wall. She went to inspect it. There was enough space for her to slip through. What was on the other side? She flipped the latch in the middle and lifted the glass pane. Pulled herself up and stuck her head out. The space between that building and the next was over five feet wide. Plenty of room. She turned her head left then right. The alley connected to both Main and Marion Street.

  She reached behind and pulled out her gun. Having her gun drop in the bathroom as she passed through the open window would not be ideal.

  With her gun in hand, Clarissa pulled herself up and out through the open window. She switched to a seated position on the window sill and swung her left leg over. Then the right. She hopped down onto the asphalt coated alleyway and walked toward Main Stre
et.

  The most treacherous part of her journey would be walking through downtown, a five block radius full of too many streetlights and, on this particular night, too many Russians. She slipped out of her heels and picked them up. Ran down the alley. She slowed her pace in an attempt to blend in once she hit Main Street. She headed east and turned right on 4th Street, then left on Robinson. One block to go until she entered the residential part of town.

  Footsteps echoed off of the buildings that surrounded her. They came from behind. They indicated whoever was behind her was moving quickly, possibly running.

  She squeezed the handle of her gun and lifted it to her chest. Her left hand wrapped around her right, keeping it steady.

  The steps closed in on her quickly. She waited until they were within twenty feet and spun around. Arms stretched out, gun aimed at the first person she saw.

  A man and woman, dressed in dark tracksuits with reflective strips, froze in place. She looked them up and down. They wore running shoes that matched the tracksuits. The man reached his arm out in front of the woman and ushered her behind him. He spoke between deep breaths, “We don’t have any money on us.”

  Clarissa shook her head. “I’m sorry. Someone’s after me.”

  The woman peered over the man’s shoulder. “We can call the cops for you.”

  “No good. Just forget you saw me. Please.”

  Clarissa spun on her heel and took off in a sprint and didn’t let up until she’d run at least a half mile. She slightly decreased her pace and ran another half mile in less than three minutes.

  She saw Bear’s house. One car in the driveway. Porch light on. Light on inside the front window. Light on around the side, where she remembered the kitchen being located. She hunkered down next to a car parked on the curb and watched the house while she caught her breath. Finally, satisfied that the area was clear, she crossed the street and Bear’s front lawn. She stood in front of the door. Straightened out her clothes. Dropped her heels to the ground and held her gun behind her back. Then she knocked on the door.