by Неизвестный
Laura went right to the smaller man and stripped him. We both tucked the legs of our fatigues into the boots at about the same time. I saw Laura lean down next to the woman. "What is it?"
"Look," she said, raising a pistol, a Bren Ten, a 10mm automatic that held eleven rounds.
"The woman had it on her tray along with some needles and bottles. I haven't seen one of these guys for a long time. It's a good combat weapon."
I grabbed the two small vials on the tray.
"Good idea," she said, smiling at me. "You ready?"
I turned left and stopped cold.
"What's wrong, Mac?"
"Just an attack of deja vu," I said, and slithered out the door. We left the men completely naked and tied up as best we could with strips of the bed sheet Laura had been wearing. Laura had tied the woman up with her underwear.
"Let's go to Molinas's office," I said. "If there's someone there, we can force them to take us to Sherlock and Savich."
We passed a window. It was dark outside, and that was good. How much time had passed?
The office was empty. They'd boarded up the glass windows behind the desk. "Maybe they've hidden a phone," I said, and began opening drawers.
Suddenly I felt dizzy and unfocused. I just stood there, waiting to see what would happen. Was this death coming? A numbing cold overwhelmed me. I felt it chewing at the edges of my brain. My heart pounded. Laura was staring at me, her hand out. I knew she was talking but I couldn't make out her words. To die like this, I thought, as I went to my knees.
I wasn't dying. It was the drug again. I fell back against the wall. I saw Laura over me even as I sat there, my head to one side.
She was shaking me as hard as she could. "Mac, listen to me. I know you can hear me, you're looking at me. Blink at me. Yes, that's right. Whatever's going on in your head, you've got to control it. We've got to get out of here."
I looked over at the glass windows. They weren't boarded up. The glass was solid, whole. And I wondered: Did we really crash through it the first time?
"Mac, blink at me again."
I evidently did because she started speaking again. Her voice was low. She was close to me. I could feel her breath on my face.
"I want you to raise your hand now, Mac."
I looked down at my hand lying limp on the floor. I looked and looked at it and then I thought, Just raise your damned hand. My hand came right up. I cupped Laura's face with it. "Whatever it is, it's going away. It's a weird feeling. Laura, we didn't use anything when we made love at Seagull Cottage. If I made you pregnant, I don't want you to worry about it, okay? We're going to get married. It'll all be okay."
She grinned at me, leaned down, and kissed my mouth. It was a sweet kiss and I felt it throughout my body, and the feeling was healthy and real. "I'm better," I said.
"Good. I want you to stand up now, Mac. Do you think you can do it?"
I felt the journey of coming back into myself, of retaking control. I doubted in that moment if I would ever again even willingly take an aspirin. There is nothing more terrifying than losing control of your mind.
I got up. I stood staring at the boarded-up windows. "My memory went haywire. I felt numb and everything was different. This damned drug is a killer." "Let's find Molinas, Mac." I picked up my AK-47. I felt strong again. In control.
But for how long this time?
Chapter Twenty-Five
I was frankly surprised when we went through a corridor on the far side of the office and found ourselves in an antique-filled bedroom. The man we believed to be Molinas was sitting on the side of a bed, leaning over a woman. Not a woman, she was young, perhaps eighteen. She had a white sheet pulled to her chin. Thick, shiny dark hair fanned around her face on a white pillow.
Molinas hadn't heard us. All his attention was focused on the girl. He was wearing black pants, a loose white shirt, and his bald head gleamed beneath the mellow bulb just above the bed.
He was speaking quietly, but I couldn't make out his words. I watched him stroke her hair, lean down to kiss her. He continued speaking in a low, warm voice even as he straightened again. I couldn't tell if he was speaking Spanish or English. I saw the girl's hand come up and lightly touch his shoulder.
I nodded to Laura and pointed to the Bren Ten she held lightly in her right hand. She frowned a moment, then reluctantly handed it to me. How could she know what I intended?
"Take the girl, Laura," I whispered. She nodded again. I left my AK-47 on the floor just outside the door. We went as silently as we could into the still air of the room. It smelled sweet in the bedroom, a vague rose smell. I didn't like it. It was cloying.
He was completely focused on the girl, leaning over her, speaking. My boots creaked. I froze, but he didn't move. What were they talking about?
I gently pressed the Bren Ten against his left ear. "Hello," I said. "Como le va?"
The girl was sitting up now, pressed against the bed's headboard, her eyes wide, silent as death. She was terrified.
I felt him coil then relax again. He said, "If you kill me you'll never get out of here alive."
"It won't matter to you, Molinas," Laura said very calmly.
"How do you know who I am?"
"Who else would they send down here?" Laura asked. "You were assigned to keep us. As for all the fun you had with us, that was your own idea, wasn't it?"
"Some of the men are animals. I protected you."
I looked over at the girl, who still clutched the sheet to her throat, her narrow hands clenched. I said in Spanish, "Don't be afraid. We're not going to hurt you."
Slowly she nodded and said in perfect English, "Who are you?"
"My name's Mac. What's yours?"
"Marran."
Molinas moved and I gave him all my attention. "Keep an eye on her, Laura."
I came down beside him and raised the pistol. "You're going to take us to where you're holding the other two agents."
"They're dead," he said.
"Then so are you." I pressed the pistol against the side of his mouth and cocked it.
"No, don't," he choked out. "They're not dead, I swear it. I'll take you to them."
"Did you drug them like you did me?" "Yes, but not in the same way. They're all right." "You'd better hope that we agree. Now, I want you to get up real slow."
"We should probably bring the girl along," Laura said.
Molinas lunged for me as he rose, but I brought the pistol down on the side of his head. The girl groaned.
Laura clapped her hand over the girl's mouth, pressing her head back against her pillow.
Molinas went down but not out. He landed on his knees, moaning, holding his head. I knew the pain must be bad, the bastard.
"If you try that again, I'll kill you." I said it in a near whisper. I didn't want the girl to make any more noise. I thought about hauling her with us and decided it wouldn't improve our odds. We'd leave her here. I opened my mouth to tell Laura when I saw that she'd already begun ripping up the sheet. I waited for her, keeping the tip of the Bren Ten against the back of Molinas's head. The girl was silent now. I saw tears running down her cheeks.
"Who is she?" I asked Molinas, who was still holding his head in his hands.
He tightened like a spigot in January. "Touch her, you bastard, and I'll rip your head off your shoulders." I believed him.
It took Laura a few minutes to tie the girl firmly. I noticed she had skinny arms. They were pale with sharp blue veins running beneath her flesh. Her beautiful shiny hair streamed across her face. Laura smoothed it back after she'd fastened the gag in her mouth.
I hoped Molinas could walk. I started to help him to his feet. He snarled at me and made it himself. A proud man, I thought. I looked back at the girl, who was staring at him, her eyes large and frightened.
"Turn out the light, Laura."
The room went dark.
We heard a whimper from the bed.
I could feel him resist when he heard the girl's dis
tress. "We didn't do anything to her," I said. "She'll be all right, if you don't do anything stupid. Now walk."
The moment we had him back in his office, Laura motioned for me to stop. I kept three feet between me and Molinas. She walked to the door, opened it quietly, and leaned out. She turned back to me and nodded.
"Now," I said quietly, "you're going to take us to the other agents."
He said nothing, merely walked from the office and turned left down the corridor. "You're dead if one of your soldiers tries to take us out."
He stiffened but didn't say a thing.
"If you're dead, what will happen to the girl? She's already tied down. A regular offering, I'd say."
He nodded, and I heard him curse, low and fluently. Even with a Spanish last name, those curses were pure American.
"Who is that girl?"
He just kept walking.
"You might as well tell me."
Finally, not turning to face me, he answered, "She is my daughter."
Chapter Twenty-Six
Where are your men, Molinas?" I said near his left ear. "Some operation you run here. Hard to believe you haven't been run out of town."
"The men are not professionals," Molinas said, and I could tell that disgusted him. "They have courage but no discipline."
"I buy that," I said. "Now, tell us where we are."
"No, you can't kill me. If you do, you won't ever get your friends out of here. I can't tell you anything. If I did, I would be dead and so would my daughter. Very few people know about this place. If you find out on your own, I cannot be blamed. Your friends are just around that corner. There are three guards around the door."
Suddenly, Laura put her finger against her lips. We heard a man talking in a low voice. She walked quietly to the corner and looked around it. She came back. "There are three guards up ahead, just like he said. They're sitting on the floor outside a door. Their heads are down, but I'm not certain they're asleep."
"The other agents are behind that door?" I asked.
"I wasn't lying."
He was pale now, but he didn't say anything more.
"Del Cabrizo's behind the whole operation, isn't he?" Laura asked Molinas.
"I can't tell you anything. You can kill me if you must but I know that you won't harm my daughter."
"We'll do whatever we need to," I said. "I want you to walk ahead to the men and tell them that you intend to speak to the prisoners. You will tell them to go outside until you come to tell them to return. If you screw this up, Molinas, I will personally shoot you. I won't harm your daughter, but I will shoot you. Trust me on this."
He looked me straight in the face. He had dark blue eyes, and there was something familiar about them. The shape, perhaps, slightly tilted at the corners. They were his sister's eyes, Elaine Tarcher's. He said in a low voice, "My daughter is innocent. She has suffered enough. If I release your friends, will you leave here?"
"You can hardly expect things to go on as they have."
"No, once you escape, my job here is over. Then I will deal with what will happen."
I shrugged. "Your daughter, who is so precious to you-why is she here with you? Have you let her watch you pump drugs into people?"
"No. We have only been here for a short time. We arrived just before you did. I couldn't leave Marran back home. She needs me. You cannot take me with you as a hostage. You cannot leave her here alone. She would be savaged by these men. She would kill herself. She's tried before. I will do as you ask, Mr. MacDougal."
He was pleading with me, his expression as raw as his voice. His daughter was more important to him than his pride, certainly more important to him than his own life. "Let me see what kind of shape my friends are in. Then
I'll decide what to do with you. You try to screw me, Molinas, and you're dead. Just think of your daughter before you decide to betray me. By the way, I speak Spanish."
Molinas nodded and straightened. As he walked forward, he looked like a man used to command, a man in charge. Laura and I watched him kick one man in the knee. The man cried out. The other two awoke. The man Molinas had kicked scrambled to his feet, excuses tumbling out of his mouth. I understood only that they were excuses. Molinas raised his foot and kicked another man in the ribs. The third managed to jump away.
He used his hands while he spoke to the men, and his voice was low and angry. If he'd had my gun I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd shot all three of them. He motioned for them to pick up their weapons. He stood there watching them scurry away. He had told them to go outside and stay there. Then, after just a slight pause, he turned and walked back to Laura and me. He held up a key ring, pulled out a long brass key and handed it to me.
"This is the one."
I gave the key to Laura. "Be careful. There might be a man inside."
She nodded. I remained behind with Molinas, the Bren Ten pressed against his neck. "Nice clothes," I said close to his ear while we waited. "I guess dealing drugs to kids lets you hobnob with a lot of Italian designers."
"I haven't been involved in drugs for five years," he said. "I am doing this for other reasons."
"Yeah, right. And you keep American federal agents just for the fun of it." I focused on the slowly opening door. Laura eased inside, crouched low. I saw a light come on, then nothing. "Let's go. One try at me and I'll pull the trigger."
Savich was half-crouched, ready to attack. He looked pale and drawn, his clothes torn and dirty, and there was such rage in his eyes that suddenly I didn't want to know what had been done to him. "I was hoping you'd come," he said, as he slowly straightened.
I came into the small room, pushing Molinas in front of me. Savich's hands closed around his throat and he shook him like he was a rag. Molinas did nothing to defend himself.
"Savich, stop it." I tried to jerk Molinas away from him, but Savich was out of control.
Laura cried out, "Sherlock. Oh, God!"
Sherlock was the only thing that could have distracted him and Laura knew it. Savich dropped his hands and whirled about, dropping to his knees beside Sherlock. She was unconscious, huddled on her side.
He gathered her against him and rocked her back and forth, back and forth, kissing her dirty hair. Savich looked up. His face was battered. He'd been beaten. I nearly pulled the trigger. "By God, what have you done to him? You damned bastard. I should have let him strangle you."
"He is all right," Molinas said, and I knew his throat hurt. Savich was strong, very strong, no matter what they'd done to him.
I shoved Molinas to the floor and closed the door, then walked to where Savich sat, still rocking Sherlock on his legs.
"Thanks for coming, guys. I'm glad to see you, to say the least. I did try, but I couldn't get us out of here. I failed. I took out a couple of them but then four others came in and I got the crap kicked out of me for my efforts."
He was coherent. He was himself.
"They didn't drug you?" I asked.
"Not after I woke up when we first got here, wherever here is. They took Sherlock. I guess they wanted me to be clearheaded enough to see what the drug did to her."
"What happened to her?"
"When she's awake, she just keeps reliving that awful time in the past when she was hunting down that serial killer, Martin Jones." I was nodding. I knew all about Martin Jones. Savich explained for Laura. "She was his prisoner. It was terrifying for her. She had nightmares about it for months. With the drug, it's come back, only worse. Jesus, you can feel her terror, her confusion." He looked over at Molinas. "I'm going to kill that sadistic bastard."
But he didn't move, just kept rocking Sherlock.
He said even as he rubbed his cheek against Sherlock's hair, "After they beat me, they left me alone. They never did shoot any drugs into me."
I looked down at Sherlock, and then I struck Molinas, I just couldn't stop myself. I must have gotten him just right because his head fell back against the wall. I drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry, guys. He'll be back with us
in a minute. He's going to get us out of here. There's an airstrip out there."
"Thank God," Savich said. He was still clutching Sherlock tightly against his chest. "They drugged you again, Mac?"
I said, as I watched Molinas open his eyes, "I'll tell you about it later." I hunkered down into Molinas's face. "You're going to get on your radio. You're going to get a plane in here. Now."