The Edge Of Courage

by Elaine Levine

  As evening cast long shadows across the ranch, Rocco stood with Blade at the high fence of Kitano’s corral watching Mandy work the Paint. He loved how she handled the gelding, eased his fears, respected him, asserted herself. It seemed to Rocco that the Paint looked forward to his twice-daily workouts with her. Soon she’d be able to ride him.

  Blade’s phone rang. He had a short conversation with the person on the other end, then hung up. Rocco looked at him. “Problems?”

  “No. I asked my foreman to take an extended leave for a while until we get the situation here cleared up. He said he was ready to go, but had a few things to discuss with me. I’m going to head over there. I’ll be glad when they’re safe.”

  “Want company?” Rocco offered.

  “No need. I shouldn’t be long.”

  Ty walked into the foyer of his house a few minutes later, calling for Dennis.

  “In here, sir.”

  “Glad you could make arrangements so quickly,” Ty said as he walked into his father’s office. A sound caught his attention over by the private bathroom off the study. He caught a quick glimpse of Kathy, Dennis’s wife, gagged and bound. Hearing someone behind him, he spun around as a tranquilizer nailed his shoulder.

  His world began to wobble, his vision narrowing, closing. He looked at his caretaker, who rushed forward to catch him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had no choice-”

  The rest of his words were lost to Ty.

  Dennis looked up as Amir led his whimpering wife out of the bathroom. “It’s done. I shot him, now let her go.”

  “Take him out to your car and put him in the trunk.”

  Dennis looked at his wife, then at Amir. “He’s too heavy for me to move by myself.”

  Amir cocked his gun and pointed it at Kathy. “I suggest you figure it out, Mr. Jackson, or you’ll have two bodies to move.”

  Dennis lifted Ty under his arms, but before he could pull him out of the office, Amir told him to stop. “Give me his cell phone.” Dennis handed it over. Amir dropped it on the floor and crushed its case beneath his heel. “Get moving,” he ordered.

  Dennis dragged Ty across the foyer, out the front door, and down the steps to the waiting SUV. He opened the back hatch and lifted Ty into the empty cargo area. Amir led his wife out and shoved her into the backseat. “Get in and drive,” he ordered Dennis.

  “Where?”

  “Head up toward Hwy 130 West. I will tell you when to turn off.”

  Dennis drove as fast he dared. Police patrols were scarce out this way. He didn’t know if he should comply or if he should try to get someone’s attention. In the end, the gun pointed at his wife’s head made his decision for him. Once they’d gone a little ways into the Medicine Bow National Forest, Amir directed him to pull off the highway onto a windy dirt road that hugged a few cliffs and crossed a couple of creeks.

  “Stop. We’re here.” Amir ordered Dennis and his wife out of the car. The night air was cold in the mountains. Dennis took his coat off and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “Where are we going?” he asked Amir, who’d taken a flashlight out of the trunk. Dennis looked at Ty to see if he was rousing yet. He didn’t move. God, he hoped he hadn’t killed the boy. Though if he had, it might be better than whatever Amir had planned for them.

  “Follow the path. I’ll show you where to drop his body.”

  The ground was rocky, the path barely discernible in the dark. Amir jerked the flashlight around, using it more for his footing than theirs. Dennis almost fell into a deep fissure before realizing the path had ended right where he stood. He reached out and grabbed his wife.

  Amir stepped up and poured light down the narrow hole, a hole too deep to see the bottom in the darkness. “That’s where you’ll dump the body.” He pulled out a long knife and turned to Kathy.

  Immediately, she started crying, pleading. “Silence,” he complained, backhanding her. He grabbed her wrists, slashing through the rope that bound them. “Help your husband move the body.”

  They trudged back to the SUV. Dennis’s mind was churning quickly, spinning through different options. Amir stayed in the Explorer as they pulled Ty out. He tried to hold most of Ty’s weight to spare his wife as much of the burden as he could.

  “Is he dead, Dennis? Have you killed Ty?”

  Dennis looked around. He could still see Amir with the flashlight in the driver’s seat. “No,” he whispered. “Let’s be careful how we get him into the hole. I saw a ledge not far below where we were standing. Maybe he can get out when he comes to. Hurry now. I don’t want him to awaken while we are here.”

  Kathy was sobbing quietly, broken by fear. She stumbled and hurt her knee. “There is no one to help us, is there?”

  “We’ll see. We’ll see, Kathy.”

  At the edge of the crevice, Dennis positioned Ty so that he could slide down the one side, hopefully without getting any broken bones, though what good that would be if he couldn’t get out and no one knew where he was, Dennis didn’t know. When it was done, Kathy leaned over and tossed Dennis’s coat after him.

  “Why did you do that?” Amir asked, his voice almost a scream. Gone was his knife, in its place was his sleek Glock. Dennis hadn’t heard him come up behind them. He drew Kathy a step away from the ledge. “It slipped is all. It fell off of her when we tossed him.”

  “He is still alive isn’t he? Isn’t he?” Amir shouted this last when they didn’t answer quickly enough. “Go back to the car and wait for me,” he ordered.

  Dennis grabbed Kathy’s hand and hurried to do Amir’s bidding. Amir shot a couple of rounds into the fissure where Ty was. Dennis had never felt such terror in his life. An idea took form as they rushed down the jagged hillside. At the SUV, he opened the back passenger door and ordered Kathy inside. He jumped in the driver’s seat, then put the SUV in gear, expecting a blaze of gunfire at any moment.

  He could see the bouncing light of Amir’s flashlight as he ran back toward the SUV down the rough trail. Dennis cranked the steering wheel and spun the vehicle around. They drove fast down the dirt road. The trail seemed to take forever. Kathy kept a watch behind them. The narrow road made a sharp turn to the left, hugging a ridge. Dennis reminded himself to go slowly. His heart was pounding so that it drowned out Kathy’s whimpers in the backseat.

  He hated leaving Ty with Amir. God, it probably didn’t matter. Amir had fired shots down into the ravine-the boy was probably already gone. They made a sharp turn onto another side road. The incline was steep, and the tires did not seem to grip the road through the dirt and gravel. He tapped the brakes.

  Surely, there were cops ahead in the town of Centennial, or if not, at least there were people. He could get help there. He tapped the brakes again, realizing he was going too fast for the sheer, winding back road. Nothing. He tapped again.

  The brakes were gone.

  He tried easing up on the handbrake. He was so focused on the brake that he didn’t steer the SUV around another sharp bend. He looked in the rear view mirror, caught Kathy’s panicked gaze as the SUV launched itself over the mountainside.

  Chapter 17

  “Owen! We got it! We broke @A__akbar’s code!” Max shouted gleefully. Night had fallen. The team had been at this the entire day. “Every time he mentions coffee in Denver, the plumber goes to Denver. The number of espresso shots correlates to the number of days between the Tweet and the meeting. They met two days ago.”

  “Where did they meet? Get me some video footage.”

  “We’re getting Buchanan’s bank records now. If he used a credit card, we’ll know shortly.”

  Three hours later, Rocco stood up and stretched. He hated paper trail work. They’d discovered the name of the coffee shop, and had found receipts in Buchanan’s bank records going back two years, ever since he first arrived in Wolf Creek Bend. From the schedule recorded in his appointment book, it looked as if he’d been having regular meetings each month at the same location. They were still awaiting video foota
ge to confirm, but it was an interesting lead.

  Rocco found Mandy curled up on the sofa upstairs, sound asleep, a book open and forgotten on her lap. He knelt beside her and tried to wake her by gently brushing a bit of hair from her face.

  “Hey,” he whispered. “You didn’t have to wait up.”

  She opened her eyes, giving him a soft smile that filled him with warmth. She touched his face, palming the rough hair of his beard that was growing thicker every day. “I missed you.”

  “I’ll put the boys out, then come to bed. You go on and get settled.” He drew her to her feet and turned her toward her room. He whistled for the dogs and held the door open for them. They moved as sleepily as Mandy. They hadn’t been with her for long, but already they’d become accustomed to the routine she kept.

  Something caught their interest down at the construction site. They began barking. Rocco walked out, his eyes searching into the darkness. It had to be after midnight. Had Blade had come back yet? The dogs were now barking in earnest. He caught their collars before they could charge down the hill.

  Someone was down there. A phone rang. Rocco could feel the hackles on his neck stand up. He was taking the dogs back to the house when the first explosion lit up the sky. The dogs broke free from him and ran into the darkness, away from the fire. The second blast blew him off his feet. He never heard the third one.

  * * *

  Max sat in front of his monitors, searching for what had tripped the motion detector down at the construction site. A man was standing in the skeletal framework of the stable.

  “Kit! Get out here!” he called out. He, Kit and Greer were sleeping in shifts so that one of them manned the monitors around the clock.

  Kit sat down next to him, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Whatcha got?” He wore his jeans and black T-shirt, but was barefooted.

  “Not sure. Someone’s down at the construction site. Can’t make out who it is. Can you?”

  Kit studied the video feed. “Is that Buchanan? Who’s he calling?”

  A second later, light flashed on the cameras as they heard the explosion outside. Kit jumped to his feet and ran to his room to gear up, shouting orders to Max as he went.

  “Stay at the monitors. Watch for anyone else stalking around.” Greer was rolling out of bed seconds after the explosion, awake and battle ready. “Greer, call down to Owen at the bunkhouse. Tell him to get the rest of the guys up here. We need to secure the house and check the perimeter for more bombs.”

  “Shit! Rocco’s out there!” Max pointed to a monitor. They watched Mandy run from the house and fall at Rocco’s side, Fee right behind her. Kit strapped on his Beretta. He buckled his Kevlar vest, grabbed his rifle, then took the stairs three at a time.

  Owen, Angel, Val, and Kelan were running from the bunkhouse, armed and ready. Kit hurried to where Rocco lay still in the dirt. Mandy was crying, trying to get him to respond to her. Kit pressed his fingers to Rocco’s neck, checking for a pulse.

  “He’s alive, Mandy.” Kit set his hand on Mandy’s shoulder. “Look at me. Em, look at me. You’ve got to keep it together.”

  “What the hell just happened?” Owen asked as they reached the main house.

  “Buchanan blew the riding center. Help me turn Rocco onto his back.”

  Angel held his head, keeping his neck immobilized as Kit and Owen slowly rolled him to his back. Rocco appeared to have no major injuries, though he was nicked and scraped from the explosion. Sirens began to wail in the distance. Kit checked Rocco’s pulse again, made sure he was breathing.

  “Angel, Val, do a sweep of the buildings, make sure there are no other nasty surprises waiting,” Owen ordered. “Kelan, guard the porch. No one goes in or out unless it’s one of us. And take Fee with you.”

  “Was Buchanan alone?” Owen asked when Kit stepped away from Rocco.

  “He’s the only one we saw. The other cameras were not triggered.” Kit looked at Owen. “Max and Greer are manning the monitors. Where’s Blade?”

  “Don’t know. Wasn’t he at the house with you?”

  “Haven’t seen him since this evening.”

  “He wasn’t down below, with Buchanan, was he?” Owen asked.

  “We didn’t see him on the monitors.” Kit said to Mandy. “Go get some blankets, Em. I don’t want Rocco going into shock.”

  Kelan wrapped a hand around Fee’s waist and led her back to the house. At the porch, Fee pulled against him. “Rocco’s hurt. Mandy needs me. I can’t go in yet.”

  “He’s hurt, but he’s got all the help he needs. You’ll just be underfoot,” Kelan told her. The sirens were sounding louder. “It’s not safe out here. I want you to go back inside.”

  Fee turned in his arms and buried her face in his chest, surprising the hell out of him. He wished he weren’t wearing his Kevlar vest, wished he could feel her against his side. He wrapped an arm about her shoulders and pulled her even tighter against himself. He could feel her trembling. She looked up at him, her big, blue eyes swimming in tears.

  “What happened, Kelan? I heard the explosion. I thought I dreamt it, but then Mandy went running out of the house.”

  “We don’t know yet.”

  “Do you think Rocco was hurt badly?”

  Kelan shook his head. “I wish I had more info for you.”

  She straightened and smoothed her hands over her eyes. “What can I do?”

  Kelan didn’t want her to do anything. He wanted her to go back inside and stay safe, but he suspected her panic would only deepen if he didn’t give her a task. “First, get dressed. Then put on some coffee and see if you can wrangle up some food. I think it’s going to be a long night.”

  She nodded, still hesitating to move inside. He caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I will keep you safe, Fee.”

  Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. Damn, that wasn’t the reaction he was after. She pulled away and hurried back inside Mandy’s house.

  Rocco stood in the middle of the mayhem surrounding the compound where he and Kadisha lived. She handed Zavi to him and tried to push him away. He grabbed her arm, not letting her go back into the building. She fought with him. They both stumbled to the ground. Her coat parted, revealing a wide band of C-4 belted around her waist, secured across the slight swell of their child.

  “Kadisha! What are you doing?”

  “You did this!” She gestured to the explosives. “You killed us!”

  Rocco stared at his wife as she got to her feet. “Don’t go! I will defuse it.”

  “It is too late. There are other bombs in the house. I have to get my mother out of there.”

  Rocco jumped to his feet, and reached for her, but she slipped away. He looked at Zavi, who was crying. He reached for him, and then everything went black.

  When he came to, the dust and ash was so thick, the sun had darkened to night. Rocco crawled on his belly, dragging himself over shards of brick and twisted bits of metal to a small, bleeding body a few feet away. Zavi. Oh, God, Zavi. Only the torso remained of his boy, his skin singed beyond recognition. Rocco reached him and dragged him to his lap, weeping and rocking. His own face and body were nicked with dozens of small and large cuts, though he felt none of his injuries as he held what remained of his son’s body.

  He’d done this, Kadisha had said. He’d done this. He couldn’t have-he hadn’t wanted his boy or his wife killed.

  Women were running around in the debris, crying, screaming, looking for lost loved ones. He couldn’t hear them. His ears were ringing too loudly. Time moved in a strange, distorted way, going too fast sometimes and too slow others.

  Men came and tried to get him to put Zavi down, to stop the prayers he wailed over his son’s body. He threatened them with his knife. He would not surrender the body. Not yet. Not ever. He would never let his son go.

  Gradually, the orange sun dipped below the horizon, shutting itself away from the horror and devastation the day left behind. Still, Rocco rocked his son, singing prayers,
begging Allah to accept his innocent child into heaven.

  Again, men tried to take Zavi from him, wanting to prepare him for his burial, and again Rocco would not let them come close. By the time the sun rose the next morning, Rocco throat was raw and his soul was empty.

  The stench from Zavi’s body was unbearable. Some of the burned skin had torn off his son’s body and was stuck to Rocco. When the men came this time, there were too many to fight off. They pulled Zavi from him and went to prepare him.

  Rocco sat alone on the hill, looking at the place where Kadisha’s house had been. Zavi’s blackened flesh and dried blood were all over him, his arms, his neck, his face. Still he rocked. Still he tried to sing the prayers for the dead.

  When the men came to him next, they came with guns. These were not the village elders but his father-in-law’s warriors. They beat him with their rifle butts. He did not fight them off. Perhaps it was Allah’s vengeance for his prayers-prayers from a man who had killed his son.

  They stopped their assault, sooner than he’d thought they would. His flesh hurt now, but it still didn’t equal the anguish in his soul. The men dragged him to a rickety van and threw him the back. He didn’t know where they were taking him. It didn’t matter. He was dead already.

  Zavi was dead. And Kadisha was dead. And their next little baby was dead. The whole, goddamned village was dead.

  They drove for a while over rough roads. They didn’t offer him any food or water. But of course, you cannot feed a corpse. Eventually, they stopped somewhere. Another village.

  They dragged him out of the van. He tried to walk, but he couldn’t keep up with them. They moved some crates and then some boards, revealing a dark hole in the ground. His grave. They’d brought him to his grave.

  “Rocco? Rocco, can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

  Rocco floated toward that voice. An angel’s voice. His angel. Perhaps God had heard his prayers after all. She was touching him. She shouldn’t do that-he would soil her, would get Zavi’s death on her. He eased away from her, warning her. She frowned at him as if she didn’t understand.