by Estes, Danny
This caught Jill’s attention and she glared off into the dark tunnel. “I should have killed him, and the next time I see him I’ll correct that error.”
“Love,” Randolph said, trying to bring her back, a bit shaken from the venom in her voice, “I’d rather you didn’t just yet. Mr. Stanton may be a cold-blooded killer, but he’s a known commodity in my equation in taking down Mr. Hilden. Taking him out would replace him with someone I don’t know, which would make us stay in these luxury conditions far longer then I wish to.”
Jill turned her cold eyes on him, causing a shiver to run down his back even in this heat, before she softened and made a face to his comment, settling back to do her nails.
“By the way,” he asked in an afterthought, “did he touch you in anyway?”
“You don’t see my hair messed up, do you?” Jill answered, annoyed.
“No, but I had to ask in case he put a homing beacon on you.”
Jill gave him such a glare, Randolph held up his hands in apology. Jill snorted her acceptance, and pulled out a soda from the portable cooler he’d purloined from the public works truck in a supply yard and tapped the screen on the computer, bringing his attention back to his side of the job. Randolph gave Jill a half smile, then plugged in the new chip and set about studying the new information she’d gathered.
For another week, Randolph sorted out details and designed tools they’d need to infiltrate Mr. Hilden’s fortress when Randolph came across a certain restaurant owner and company being indicted for tax evasion and other lesser charges. Quickly recognizing this as a simple countermeasure instigated by Mr. Hilden to color Randolph’s thoughts, Randolph had to admit it still made him mad as hell. Even so, hating the trouble this would cause and the risks involved, Randolph felt he owed his brother his help.
He was unhooking the computer when Jill stirred from her sleeping pallet and inquired, “Honey, what’s up?”
“I think it’s time we had a decently-cooked meal. So why don’t you pack up and we’ll head for the public showers to clean up for a flight out to the frozen lakes.”
“Frozen lakes? Why do we need to see the senator?”
“We don’t, but I’ve business there I must see to before we begin the raid on Mr. Hilden’s residence.”
“John, love, I thought we were flat broke?”
“We are, but my brother’s not, at least not yet.”
Jill sat up straighter and her voice lowered into a commanding tone. “Randolph, what the hell’s going on?”
“I’ve business in the frozen lakes, that’s all you need to know,” he snapped, putting the computer in a protective carry bag.
Jill stood and without provocation slammed Randolph against the wall, holding him in place by his shirt and throat while she placed a knee very close to his groin. “Answer my question. We’re far too close to simply drop things and go running off, so what’s happened?”
“Jill, I can’t talk this way,” Randolph forced through his teeth, dropping the bag to take up her arm, trying to push it away.
“You can, however, breathe, a condition I can alter if you don’t answer me. It’s your brother isn’t it? Someone's done something to hurt him and like a good big brother, you’re running to the rescue.”
Randolph eyed her, wondering how she connected those dots even as a smirk touched her lips and she let go, stepping back, folding her arms so he had room to move while he rubbed his neck. “Randolph, it wasn’t that hard to figure out. You seemed to already know your way around that town, including the layout of that fancy restaurant. So tell me, what’s happened?”
“I could just happen to have had a job there,” he grumbled.
“That statement would’ve held water if you hadn’t mentioned your brother paying our fare. In all the time I’ve known you, you haven’t trusted anyone but yourself and that still holds, even now after admitting your love for me,” she finished, sounding hurt with that last part.
Randolph straightened out his shirt. “Okay, fine, you’re right. It is my brother. The bastard’s done some manipulation and probably some payoffs to get my brother in trouble. As he’s an innocent in all this, I’m going to see him and straighten out the people who think Mr. Hilden is far more of a threat then I am.”
“Uh-huh, just as I thought. Well, go ahead then”—she waved a hand at him—“play right into his hands, and while you’re at it, I’ll take out Hilden and company.”
“Jill, no!”
“Jill, yes…” she snarled back. “This Hilden character will have the place crawling with paid assassins knowing you couldn’t help but show up. So go ahead, make it that much easier for him to kill you, leaving me alone, a widow and husband-less mother.”
“But don’t you un-der…uh, what did you say?”
“Nothing of any consequence to you. Now be off with you, I’ve got plans of my own to make.” She turned her back on him.
“Jill? Honey?” Randolph asked, swallowing, stepping up and placing his hands on her shoulders, gently turning her around. “Are you…are you pregnant?” Randolph looked down into her eyes.
“And what of it?” Jill demanded. “What do you care? You’ve got your brother to bail out, so go on and leave me in peace.”
Floored by the unexpected news, Randolph stammered, “But how…uh I mean, when? Uh, how far along?”
“For that answer you'll have to ask my other self. Now why don’t you quite pretending you care and—”
Randolph didn’t let her get any further as he pulled her in for a tight embrace, totally at odds with himself. The fact Jill was pregnant with his child had a part of him jumping up and down with joy, while another screamed great obscenities at the timing as a third part crawled into a corner, balling up into a tight ball of scared uncertainty. Gad, how does one handle so many emotions at once? She resisted for a moment before melting into his arms, holding on so tightly her strength was causing him trouble in breathing.
“Oh, Randolph, I was so scared you’d resent me for this, I—I had no idea how to tell you.”
Randolph swallowed, nuzzling her hair then tried to fish out his emotions so he wouldn’t say the wrong thing. “When did you know? How far along are you?”
Her tears wet his shirt and her body shook; Jill was quietly sobbing in his embrace before she admitted, “I don’t know how far along I am, she won’t tell me? Hell, in all the time we’ve known each other, she’s never withheld such important news from me.” Still shaking in his arms, Jill pleaded, “Please don’t leave me. I never meant this to happen. I’ve been taking all the precautions necessary to prevent this. But my body is not solely mine, how am I to prevent something she desperately wants?”
“Shhh, it’s all right love, neither of you have done anything wrong. Shh now, there’s no need for this, I’ll not leave you. Now please assure her she’s done nothing wrong and find out how far along you are.”
Randolph felt the change in Jill’s grip, as her softer side surfaced, and he was glad of it as he had been about to ask her to loosen up her hold shortly—something in her state he didn’t think she would take very well.
“You’re—you’re truly not mad at me?” Jill questioned, slacking her arms so she could look up into his eyes.
“Now, I didn’t say that,” Randolph said gently, so she wouldn’t withdraw. “I am mad, but only on the timing. Now tell me, how far along are you?”
“I’m not getting an abortion,” she stated with strength, “and I’ll not let her get one either,” she assured Randolph, jutting out her chin.
“Now who said anything about an abortion? You know perfectly well my stance on a human life.”
“You—you mean it? I can have my baby?”
Randolph nodded.
She bit her lip, not quite trusting him. “Three, maybe four weeks.”
Randolph nodded with a smile, and kissed her forehead before he asked, “Thank you, love, now, may I talk to Jill?” Her eyes filled with tears before she turned away and lean
ed into him, crying anew. “Honestly, love, I have no intentions of hurting our child, although your timing alters my time table, I also look forward to holding our child.” He felt her nod, knowing she still didn’t trust him at his word yet, then the harder Jill surfaced and she pulled away to hug herself.
“If we’re to get the abortion, we better do it now while she’s in a state of sorrow,” Jill said, trying to calm her voice.
“Love, I meant what I said, I couldn’t conceive of hurting our child. But what I need you to know is that you’re out of the assault. I’ll not risk you getting hurt, jeopardizing the life of our child.”
Jill turned around, a fierceness hardening her face as she told him, “If you think for one damn minute I’m going to let you do this alone because of my stupidity, you’ve another thing coming. I’ll do the abortion myself if I have to, for there’s no-way no-how are you taking on this asshole by yourself.”
“Jill—”
“Don’t you ‘no, Jill dear’ me! We’re a team, and as such we’ll take this chance for a wonderful life together, or I’ll follow you in when you leave and there's no way you can stop me.” When she saw him taken aback by the venom in her voice, she waved at the computer. “Now set up that thing and I’ll see about obtaining the parts on your list you made last night.”
Jill slipped on her shoes, but before he could argue further, she held up a finger, pointed at the computer and promised, “If we want another child later, I’d suggest you get back to work.”
To this direct implication of harm to his two boys, Randolph swallowed, knowing Jill didn’t threaten to hear herself talking. So backing away from her, he pulled out the computer as Jill set off down the tunnel.
Chapter Twenty-One
Once Jill was out of sight, Randolph had to admit she was right; he was acting the fool in thinking to run off in aid of his brother. If he truly wished to help him out of his jam, he needed to finish this feud with Mr. Hilden once and for all. After that, he promised himself, I intend to make it perfectly clear to everybody messing with my brother is going to cost them everything they have! His only drawback was Jill’s condition, regardless of Mr. Hilden’s attempt to push him into acting sooner then he’d wished; Jill being pregnant accomplished this goal in a way Mr. Hilden could never know. So setting up the computer, Randolph set to the task with a will far greater then he held before, for he wasn’t only fighting for his life, he was fighting for his wife and child, and that fact he felt, made him that much more dangerous.
Only a few days later, they sat on a park bench under a street light Jill had disabled yesterday, holding each other like a couple taking advantage of the semi-privacy the darkness granted. Randolph looked though spectrum sensitive goggles he’d also purloined from the city truck, and checked wall and front structure to Mr. Hilden’s manor. He adjusted the dials, changing the sensitivity of the filaments, and noted the placement of security devices he already knew about.
“How’s it look so far, love?” Jill whispered into his ear, her cheek nuzzling his in affection.
“Like I own the place,” Randolph answered, flipping the channels slowly, taking note of the electrical currents and the direction they flowed.
“So are we still a go?”
“Hang on, I’m still looking.” Lowering the goggles to reset for audio, Randolph took another look at the wine-o sitting next to the city dumpster and the couple still talking at the corner, ignoring the fact the dog on the leash had already done its business some time ago. “He’s got two men and a woman patrolling the street outside the walls,” Randolph mumbled into her hair, enjoying the fresh scent of the light perfume she was wearing.
“So tell me something I don’t know,” she commented, shifting to kiss his ear.
“Besides the fact you’re distracting me?” Randolph admitted with a smile, looking back through the goggles and finding what he’d hoped Mr. Hilden would have disregarded as a “pain in the butt system.” Sighing, Randolph grumbled, “He has a sound array up.”
“Never heard of it,” Jill whispered, shifting to hide the fact Randolph was putting the goggles away.
“No reason you should have. It’s a sloppy system. I ran into one a few years back. The salesman I talked to claimed it was a military development, annexed from active service because it was too sensitive, which made it that much more marketable to the public. But in truth, the active ears overload the CPU with so many incoming sounds to identify it pretty much classifies anything as a threat and activates the alarm.”
“So why would anyone buy it?” Jill asked, kissing his lips.
“Because with the sound array he can legally kill a stranger and blame the manufacturer for the wrongful death, at which time the manufacturer blames the military for releasing a known dysfunctional product, whereby the city has no choice but to drop the case because the government won’t allow lawsuits on the R and D department that reduce its funding for more developments of weaponry.”
“Boy, that’s a mouthful. And you know this how?”
Kissing her lips, rubbing a hand up and down her back for show and pleasure, Randolph took note she was wearing an athletic bra and answered her question, “Because I do my homework—and out of curiosity, why aren’t you wearing a more supportive bra under your shirt?”
Jill smiled, kissed Randolph passionately then said, “Old habits; the military teaches women to wear easy-moving bras so as not to restrict any movements, and as I haven’t as yet regained any real size, I felt it best.” Jill slid his hand up under her shirt to caress her breast. “Besides, I like the freedom it affords me, even if they’re a bit sensitive.”
“Jill, love, if you keep this up, we’ll have to postpone our attempt till tomorrow night.”
She met his lips again, and whispered, “Spoil sport.”
Randolph reluctantly let go of her breast so they both could straighten out shirts and jackets as a patrol car, like clockwork, started down the street. After the city cop rolled past, Randolph collected their bag of goodies, which had far more goodies in it then he’d have liked.
But Jill’s argument from earlier had a certain ring of truth. Most people would call the police. Somehow I doubt Hilden to trust the police in holding you a fourth time, so it’s either these, or be carried out in body bags.
Remembering these to be four hand grenades, a bag of mini mines, two laser pistols, two extra power packs and six strips of plastic explosives, Randolph wondered over her devilish smile, Where in hell did you get all this equipment?
After some thought, Randolph resigned to the fact she was right; however, he had to inject his objections. You’re not going to use those unless it’s absolutely necessary, right?
Whereby Jill granted him one of her ambiguous statements, Define necessary.
Randolph looked skyward, mentally asking for forgiveness for what might happen.
Jill asked, “Okay, so how do we bypass this sound array?”
“Pay no attention to it. Just keep watch for the relief group. We’ve about ten minutes before they show,” he instructed as they both hurried over to the gate.
Randolph knelt, and pulled out his laser pen to cut a circle in the plastic-steel door. After removing the piece, he activated the light to see the inner workings. Next went on clips and wire to circumvent the alarm before he glued the cut-out piece back in place, taking all told three minutes. Not a great record for by passing a gate alarm. But he was in no hurry as yet. Once he turned on the infrared goggles, Randolph eased the door open enough to see the three lines of red lights, knowing only the top and bottom ones were important. With precise angled mirrors, he inched them in place and signaled Jill to step through to take them up so he could slip in. After closing the gate, Randolph pocketed the mirrors for later use as Jill joined him in his crouch to view Mr. Hilden’s front yard, which would’ve been rather hard without the night vision goggles she slipped on.
“Well, we’re in the front gate, now what?” Jill whispered in his ear.
>
“Hold still while I check.” Randolph reapplied the spectrum goggles. Although they had good intel on the outside alarms and some of the inside ones from surveillance and recent contractor blueprints, it was still good to run the dials and see what they might have missed. And sure enough there they were—electrical wires running under foot in a zigzag pattern. “Pressure plates,” Randolph whispered, motioning her to follow as he moved along the inside fence to the side of the house.
“Why aren’t there any next to the wall?” Jill inquired.
“Good question,” Randolph remarked with no clue, knowing he hadn’t missed anything along the wall.
“And why hasn’t the sound array gone off?”
“It has, the moment they turned it on this evening, so now they have a bored technician manually logging in every sound it’s picking up, and as it can hear even an ant’s fart, it’ll be awhile before the tech comes to the sounds we’re making.”
“Any guess how long?”
“As we’re surrounded by the sounds of the city, perhaps an hour, may-hap's longer, depending on the tech. Of course it could’ve been upgraded since I last read up on it, which means they could be listening in on our conversation right now,” Randolph added, his polite way of telling her to shut up. He caught her Oh, sorry look.
After making the side wall of Mr. Hilden’s home, Randolph marked the wall where he would cut, then took off the bulky goggles. With a glance at his watch, he noted the time of 10:41 p.m. Two minutes ahead of schedule. He half smiled, wanting to pat his own head, but refrained from such frivolity.
“Hand me one of your pistols.”
“I thought you hated guns?” Jill remarked dryly, still wearing her goggles to better watch their backs.
“I do, but this wall’s been doubled and my pen knife hasn’t the strength to cut through.”
“So I’m useful after all,” she said with a bit of sarcasm.
“Jill,” Randolph said, annoyed, “the gun please.”