by Nancy Mehl
The clouds had increased and grown darker, and the blowing snow had turned into a thick, frozen mist. After wiping it off, Mark checked his watch again. They’d been walking a little over an hour.
It would have been better to go in the dark, but Tally couldn’t wait that long. Nor could they. Right now, Mark was grateful for the icy cover. It might not be as dark as night, but it would do. Anything that would help to hide them from the cartel was a blessing.
As he pushed ahead, he realized he hadn’t heard a peep out of Mercy for quite some time. He turned around and was shocked when he didn’t see her. He threw his shovel aside and made his way back through the snow until he found her lying motionless.
“Mercy?” He knelt down to check her. She was unconscious. He gently picked her up. Waves of pain shot through his right arm, but he ignored it. She was so pale. He put his face next to hers to make sure she was still breathing. He could feel her breath, but it was shallow. He had to get her inside, and soon. He started trudging again toward the house. What would he find when he got there? Was the cartel waiting for them? Would he and Mercy live through this day? And what about Tally?
As he pushed through the snow, he prayed, God, please protect Mercy and Tally. Help me get them out of here alive. I can’t save them by myself—I need your help. I’m putting my complete trust in you. He glanced down at Mercy’s still face. And, Lord, please heal Mercy’s broken heart. I love her. Why would I love her so much if we’re not supposed to be together? Mark blinked away tears. Yet not my will, but yours . . .
The last part was difficult to pray, but Mark knew real love meant he had to put what was best for Mercy ahead of his own desires. He gathered up all the strength he had while placing what he didn’t possess in the hands of God. Not my will, but yours be done, he finished.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
Mercy found herself in a room where the walls were gleaming white, and there was a big picture window on one side. She looked for a way out, but there were no doors anywhere. What kind of room doesn’t have an exit? Finally she peered out the window, even though for some reason she didn’t want to.
She realized she was looking out onto the street where she’d lived as a child. How could that be? She was an adult now. A deputy U.S. Marshal. While everything in front of her seemed to be wrapped in some sort of fog, she began to see shapes moving slowly through the smoke. She saw her father. This was the day he left. As he walked toward his car, her mother followed him, holding Mercy’s hand. Mom was begging him not to go, but her father acted as if he couldn’t hear her, as if he didn’t know she was even there.
Mercy stared intently through the window, squinting so she could see things more clearly. There was a woman in the car. Mercy had seen her before. She’d come to the house a couple of times when her mother was gone. The woman wouldn’t look at her or her mother. She just stared straight ahead.
Her mother grasped her dad’s coat sleeve, but he shook himself free. Before he got into the car, he looked back at Mercy.
“I’m sorry,” he said. And then he was gone.
As her mother sank to the ground, sobbing, Mercy, the ten-year-old girl, walked up to the window where the adult Mercy watched the scene unfold before her. Tears flowed down the young girl’s face. The child looked into the woman’s eyes for a few moments, and then she turned and walked away.
“That was the last time I cried,” Mercy whispered to herself.
The mist swirled and changed, as if blown by an invisible wind. Now it was her brother driving away from home, going off to college. Even though she’d worked so hard to get him to this day, Mercy had felt abandoned. Left alone to care for her troubled mother.
Scenes of other past events flashed in front of the window as if it were a giant movie screen. Her mother showing up at school, drunk, yelling at the teacher and falling down in front of her entire class. Christmases and birthdays forgotten because her mother was so hungover she couldn’t get out of bed. Mercy trying to take care of herself and her little brother, praying no one would call social services. Her fear of being stuck in some strange family, separated from Jeremy, had forced her to work hard to keep up appearances. Mercy helped her brother with his homework, cleaned the house, did the laundry and the shopping. She enrolled in a local college so she could stay at home until Jeremy graduated high school. Even after he moved away, she stayed behind to care for her mother. There wasn’t anyone else.
Once again the scenes disappeared as if the wind had whisked them away. She saw her father on the last day of his life. She heard him say, “I also want you to know how proud I am of you. In spite of me, you grew up to be a fine young woman and a great law-enforcement officer. I know you won’t believe this, but I love you, Mercy. I’ve loved you every day since you were born, even though I’ve done a terrible job of showing it.”
She watched herself tell her father she hadn’t forgiven him. The look on his face hurt her inside. She wished she’d told him she’d never stopped loving him. Never stopped wishing he’d come back. Why couldn’t she have reached out to him? Anger? Bitterness? Revenge? Now it was too late. Her father disappeared, and two other faces appeared. Tally and Mark. She called out to them, but they didn’t seem to hear her. They both looked frightened, and Mercy wanted to help them. She ran around the room once more, trying again to find an exit, but there wasn’t one. She was trapped. She hurried back to the window and watched them fade away like smoke in the wind.
Now she was completely alone. Fear choked her, making her unable to move. It took all her strength to raise a hand and bang on the window, trying to find someone still out there, hoping to get their attention.
“I don’t want to be alone!” she yelled. “Please don’t leave me here!” First she called Tally’s name. No one came. Then she called out to Mark. Over and over she called his name. “Get me out of here! Mark, please get me out of here!”
“I’m here, Mercy. I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
She strained to see through the fog, searching for him. At last she forced her eyes open. Mark’s worried face looked down at her.
“What happened? Where . . . where am I?”
He wiped her forehead with a washcloth. “We’re back at the house. You collapsed outside, and I brought you here.”
Mercy tried to sit up, but dizziness overtook her and she put her head back down. “I had the worst dream.” She tried to look around. Again the room spun. “Where’s Angel? Is everything all right?”
Mark stroked her face. “I’m sorry, Mercy. I really am. But I had no choice. I was afraid you were going to die.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“He means you’re in trouble, little lady.”
Mercy turned her head again, ignoring the dizziness. A man she didn’t know stood a few feet from the couch. “Who are you?” she asked.
“I am Elias Vargas.”
Even though she felt sick and disconnected, she couldn’t help but notice how ugly Elias Vargas was. His face was pitted with scars, and his pushed-in nose reminded her of a pig. Probably the result of getting it broken too many times.
“Where’s Angel?”
“I’m here too,” a voice said. “No thanks to you and your boyfriend.”
Mercy squinted and was able to make out Angel as he came toward the couch. It was hard to see. Just like the dream, everything—and everyone—was fuzzy. Like figures made out of smoke.
“I think you have a concussion, Mercy,” Mark said gently.
“You didn’t tell him you hurt yourself when you fell down the stairs, did you?” Angel said. His tone was mixed with contempt . . . and something else. Something Mercy couldn’t interpret.
“You should have let me know,” Mark said, a twinge of accusation in his voice.
“You wouldn’t have gone out to look for Tally,” Mercy replied. She felt so weak that even talking was a strain.
“You still don’t have Tally, and now you’ve b
een captured,” Angel said.
Mercy didn’t respond. Was it really over? Would they die here? And where was Tally?
“You know what I want,” Elias said. “Give it to me and we will rescue your friend. Bring him here to . . . warm up.”
Mercy struggled once more to sit up. “Where is he?” She wanted to sound strong and in control, but her voice shook.
Elias came over and sat down on the coffee table. Mark moved closer to her on the couch.
“He is still alive,” Elias said, leaning so close to her the stench of cigarette smoke made her stomach turn. “Although I can’t promise how much longer that will be the case.”
He took a smartphone out of his pocket and tapped the screen several times. “As you can see, he still breathes. However, it doesn’t look as if he has long. Better get him inside as quickly as you can. . . .”
He held the phone up to Mercy’s face. It was Tally. He was tied to a tree, dressed only in his underwear. And he wasn’t moving.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Mercy held her breath as she stared at the video. Finally, Tally moved, shifted his body in an obvious attempt to get more comfortable. His breathing appeared to be labored, and his eyes were wild. He was probably in shock.
“This was recorded about thirty minutes ago,” Elias said. “Your friend may last a couple more hours if he’s lucky.”
“You want the flash drive,” Mercy said.
“Of course.”
She nodded toward her coat that had been thrown over a nearby chair. “It’s inside the lining.”
Elias gestured to Angel. “Get it.”
Angel went over to the coat and picked it up. The bruises on his face had darkened. Mercy was concerned he would seek revenge. That killing Mark would be one of the first things he did after the Vargas family got what they wanted. She had to keep that from happening.
Angel felt around on the coat’s lining but didn’t seem to find anything.
“Give it to me,” Mercy said. “I’ll get it.”
Elias nodded at Angel, and he handed her the coat. She frowned as she pretended to search for the flash drive. Then she touched a tear near the bottom of the lining.
She looked up at Elias. “It fell out,” she said. “I must have torn my coat on something. It’s probably out in the snow somewhere.”
Elias’s already hostile expression darkened. “Do you think I am stupid?” His accent deepened, and his eyes flashed as he turned his gun on Mark. “I will kill him first, and then I will kill you. The policeman will die as well.”
Mercy locked eyes with the incensed criminal. “I won’t give in to threats. You need my help to find the flash drive. If you want it, you’ll have to do things my way.”
“Wrong,” Elias spit out. “All we need to do is follow your tracks in the snow. It will not be hard to discover.”
Mercy forced herself to ignore the ache in her head and glared at Vargas without flinching. “Unless I’m lying about losing it and purposely threw it out there somewhere. If I did, you’ll never find it without me.” She shook her head, refusing to concede to the pain slicing through her skull. “Why would I give up the only bargaining chip I might have? As soon as you get what you want, you plan on killing us. I’m not going to give you the flash drive unless we cut a deal. Until I can find a way to get us out of here alive.” She paused, then added, “And threatening to kill my partner won’t work. If Mark dies, or if Tally dies, you’ll never see that flash drive. If you knew my father, then you know me. I won’t break. Not for any reason.”
For the first time a glint of insecurity flashed in Vargas’s eyes. Mercy was certain her father hadn’t broken under their torture. Would Vargas believe the same of her? She needed him to. The truth was, she’d never let him hurt Mark. But right now she needed to save Tally. Then she could concentrate on Mark . . . and herself.
“I’m not sure if the snow and the cold will affect the device,” she said with a tight smile, “but if you want to make certain it will be okay, you’ll do what I ask.”
“So if I do things your way, you will tell me where the flash drive is?”
She nodded.
“And what is it you want?”
“You bring Tally here. I have to know he’s all right. Once I’m sure of that, you let Tally and Mark leave. That’s the only way you’ll get what you want.”
Elias looked confused, and Angel shook his head.
“You will stay behind?” Angel said.
“Yes.”
“No, she won’t,” Mark said. He grabbed Mercy’s shoulder and turned her toward him. “I won’t allow it. They’ll kill you.”
“I’ll take my chances,” Mercy said.
Angel walked up to them and aimed his gun at Mark’s face. “If you care about this man so much, then you will give us the flash drive now.”
“But I won’t,” Mercy said. She took a deep breath and looked into Angel’s eyes. “I’m not kidding. If you shoot him or harm him in any way, it’s over. I mean it.”
“But your friend is still out there.”
She saw something in his eyes, maybe something she could use. “I know, but it’s clear he’s not in good shape. It may already be too late. It isn’t logical for me to bet everything on him.”
“Logical?” Elias said. “Everything is logic with you?”
“Of course. Do you want me to make decisions based on emotions? Feelings? Logic is the only thing I can trust.”
Elias continued to stare at her, and Mercy directed all her energy to staying still, not showing fear or pain. She was playing a long shot, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do. Right now she had to get Tally back to the house. She intended to get them all out alive. If she could just stall long enough, it would give Batterson time to find them. The one thing she couldn’t do was give Elias the flash drive and hope he’d release them. It was too dangerous. She glanced over at Angel. If she was forced to stay behind, Angel might be the key to saving her life. She had a hard time believing he would just stand by and watch her die, but she could be wrong.
Angel turned away from Mercy and backed away from them. “Let’s try it their way, Uncle.”
After a long moment of silence, Elias sighed. “Go get their friend.” He pointed a finger at the younger Vargas. “And he better get back here without any additional injuries, you hear me, mi hijo?”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“I mean it, Angel. Bring him back here alive.”
Mercy was certain a look of relief crossed Angel’s face. “I will do as you say.”
“Take Manuel and Deeray with you.”
“More members of your cartel?” Mercy asked once Angel left the room.
Elias sniffed. “Manuel is a trusted friend. The other person is not. Unfortunately I’ve been forced to work with some of the gangs in St. Louis.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Despicable thugs. I refuse to use their gang names. Childish.” He leaned back and shrugged. “But what can you do? The price of business.”
“They murdered my father,” Mercy said through clenched teeth.
“Yes, and I feel badly about that. Your father was a smart man. I liked him, but he took something that didn’t belong to him.”
“So you let Darius Johnson kill him.”
Elias shook his head. “Mr. Johnson took that action on his own. To cover his tracks. He was afraid we would deal harshly with him once we discovered he’d disobeyed us.”
“And you certainly did that.” Another sharp pain cut through Mercy’s head, and she involuntarily touched her hand to her forehead.
“Are you okay?” Mark asked.
“You’re worried about me?” she said through gritted teeth. “You got shot. I just got hit on the head.”
“I’m fine.”
Mercy lightly touched Mark’s shoulder. He winced in pain.
“Look,” she said to Elias, “I need to change his bandage, and I could use some aspirin. Would you let us go to the
bathroom? Everything we need is in there.”
Elias hesitated. He called out, and a young man came rushing around the corner dressed in Bloods colors, a red bandanna around his head. “Go check out the bathroom. Take out anything that could be a weapon.”
“I’ll need a pair of scissors for the bandages,” Mercy said. “Unless you want me tear them with my teeth.”
“No scissors.” He gestured to the teenager waiting for instructions. Mercy didn’t like the way the kid looked at her, his eyes running up and down her body. “If you find any, bring them to me along with anything else that is sharp.”
After one more glance at Mercy, the young man left.
Elias pointed at Mark. “You wrap his arm. I’ll cut the bandage. That’s my best offer. Take it or leave it.”
“We’ll take it,” Mercy said.
They waited a few minutes for the kid to return. When he came back he tossed several things on the coffee table, including a razor, scissors, fingernail clippers, and tweezers.
Mercy looked at Elias. “Too bad he found the tweezers,” she said sarcastically. “Ruined my plan to tweeze you to death.”
“I’m not allowing you around anything that could be used as a weapon.”
“You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust you,” Elias said. He turned back to the kid. “Walk them to the bathroom and then walk them back. Use your gun.”
He nodded, pulled a Glock out of his waistband and pointed it at them.
Mercy started to stand up but wobbled as she got to her feet.
Mark gripped her arm, steadying her. He grunted from the pain. “Lean on me,” he said.
“On your good side,” she insisted.
Mark walked around her, and she leaned in to him while he supported her with his left arm.