Witness Protection

by Holly Copella

  Chapter Three

  Jackie and Vicki walked down the carpeted, concrete steps into the massive sectioned basement filled with reference material and computers. Most of the basement had been renovated, leaving little behind of its creepy, basement appeal. There were several old doors that seemed to lead nowhere. Ironically, they were scattered about haphazard with almost no purpose.

  “The old fruit cellar is this way,” Vicki announced with enthusiasm. “You’ll be one of the few to see it. I haven’t told any of the current staff of my discovery.” She glanced at Jackie several times as they walked. “I was afraid they’d gut it.”

  They walked in silence throughout several rooms with a maze of doorways. Jackie marveled at the many doorways. Some rooms had as many as four doors. A person could get lost in the basement archives. It was no wonder it was mostly reserved for staff. There was an opening oddly placed in the wall just ahead. Vicki slowed her approach and appeared surprised by the opening.

  “That’s odd,” she remarked almost too softly for Jackie to hear. “Why is that open?”

  They approached the strange, crude doorway and appeared in the opening to the fruit cellar. Both women immediately stopped at the sight within the stone room. Dexter punched Harris in the face, dropping him to his knees. Lyle casually sat on a crude, hand carved desk and watched as Dexter removed a gun with a silencer from his shoulder holster beneath his jacket. He aimed the gun at Harris’ head. Vicki suddenly gasped in response, alerting them to their presence. Dexter immediately turned and fired at the women. Jackie shoved Vicki out the doorway, nearly tackling her to the floor just outside the room. The bullet hit the crude doorframe, splintering it. Harris knocked Dexter to the floor alongside him. Both men grabbed the gun and struggled for control of it. The gun fired almost silently. Harris suddenly gasped, being rendered momentarily motionless to the bullet penetrating his midsection. Dexter swiftly stood and aimed the gun at Harris, who was now on his knees while clutching his bleeding abdomen.

  “What the--” the governor suddenly cried out.

  The gun was kicked from Dexter’s hand. Dexter turned with surprise to see Jackie standing before him. The look on her face was oddly unemotional. Jackie suddenly spun into a high roundhouse kick and nailed Dexter in the face. He was thrown into Lyle, who was in mid-lunge to stop her. Both men were thrown into the nearby stone wall with surprising force. Jackie pulled Harris to his feet and rushed him through the doorway. Dexter scrambled for his gun while crawling across the floor and fired at them from where he lie. The shot missed and struck the stone. Jackie kept a firm hand on Harris’ arm and half dragged him through the maze of rooms, hoping she was heading in the right direction. One wrong turn and they’d find themselves at a dead end. With moderate pulling, Harris kept up with her, but his labored breathing was troubling to Jackie. She didn’t have time to look back at him, and she feared looking back in case Dexter was behind them. To her relief, she saw the basement steps just beyond another doorway.

  As she pulled Harris through the last doorway, she turned and slammed the thick door. She bolted it and hoped the old-fashioned lock, although built sturdy, would hold. As she turned, Harris was already sinking against the wall while clutching his bleeding abdomen beneath his jacket. Jackie didn’t question or comment on his condition, she simply grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the carpeted steps. He stumbled and fell to his knees as they reached the steps. The door vibrated harshly behind them, alarming Jackie. She looked back at Harris on his knees and the blood seeping between his fingers. His black jacket prevented her from seeing just how much blood he was losing, but by the blood covering his hand, she knew it was a lot.

  “Come on, you can make it,” Jackie cried out.

  “No, I can’t,” he gasped softly. “Go.”

  He handed her his car keys, bloodied from his hand, and the semiautomatic from his shoulder holster. She uncertainly accepted them. He removed a snub-nosed revolver from his ankle holster and clutched it in his blood-covered hand.

  “I’ll buy you some time,” he grunted softly. “You’ll have time to make it to my car.”

  “No, you can make it,” she insisted firmly with tears in her eyes.

  Harris gasped painfully while clutching his wound and shook his head. Jackie put his arm over her shoulder and hoisted him up despite the pain it caused him. Harris looked into her eyes not far from his eyes.

  “You’re very stubborn,” he announced and smiled warmly. “I like that--”

  Harris suddenly collapsed and took her to the floor with him. She pulled her arm out from beneath him and was about to pull him back to his feet when she looked at him where he lie. His eyes were open and his breathing had stopped. He was already dead. The door vibrated harshly, jolting her out of her trance. Jackie sprang to her feet with the gun clutched in her hand and ran up the stairs. No sooner had she disappeared up the steps, the door was thrown open with a thunderous crack and splintering wood.

  Jackie ran across one of the back rooms, hoping she was heading in the right direction for the main door. She stopped when she noticed a trail of blood droplets across the otherwise clean wood floor. As she looked further ahead, the droplets turned to a streak of blood. She saw Vicki attempting to pull herself along the floor with blood trailing behind her. There was a bullet hole that had erupted through the hardwood floor. Misfortune would have it that it just happened to hit the fleeing librarian. Jackie ran for Vicki and helped her to her feet. Vicki appeared relieved to see her and clung to her bleeding hip. Her wound wasn’t serious, but it had obviously caused her enough pain to keep her from walking on her own.

  “It just came out of nowhere,” Vicki gasped while clinging to Jackie for support. “I’m so glad to see you.” Her tiny smile attempted to mask her pain.

  “You’re going to be okay,” Jackie softly replied while hurrying her to the front room. “We just need to get you to the car.”

  “No,” Vicki gasped softly. “I’ll only slow you down. Get me to the desk. There’s a cubbyhole where I can hide. You go for help.”

  Jackie considered her request then nodded as she hurried her across the room toward the front room and the desk. “I’ll leave you the gun.”

  There was a gust of parting air, and the new familiar sound alarmed Jackie. Instinct told her to duck, but the blood erupting from Vicki’s chest caused her to freeze momentarily. It took a second for her to realize Vicki had been shot through the back, exploding through her chest. Jackie watched with horror as Vicki collapsed to the floor, slipping from her grip. There was another gust of parting air, forcing Jackie to run for a nearby aisle of bookshelves. It wasn’t until then that she felt a tremendous sting and burning from her arm. Once she reached the safety of the bookshelf, she leaned her back against the shelf and looked at the blood seeping from her arm. For a moment, the realization that she’d been shot was almost enough to send her into shock. It was either let the thought consume her and die or fight for life.

  Jackie cringed from the pain then looked at Harris’ gun in her hand. She allowed her head to rest against the bookshelf behind her and listened to the faint sound of someone approaching. It was the most frightening sound she’d ever imagined. War stories told by her father and his team flooded back to her. This was the moment she needed to become her father. She allowed panic to consume her for only a moment then shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and lowered herself into a crouching position. She exhaled softly and peeked out from behind the bookcase. Dexter was only a couple of feet away but didn’t see her. She skillfully aimed the gun as her eyes fixed on the killer not far from her. She squeezed the trigger, firing twice, hitting him in the thigh and the arm. He leaped to the floor, possibly from pain or surprise, rolled out of her line of fire, and sat up, shooting back at her. Both shots hit the bookcase. He hadn’t even bothered to aim. Jackie straightened and hurried along the safety of the bookcase.

  “You idiot! Stop her,” Lyle cried out. “Someone’s going to hear the shots fro
m her gun!”

  “What do you think I’m doing?” Dexter demanded with hostility. “The bitch shot me!”

  From her position behind the row of bookshelves, Jackie could see the sunroom just beyond a set of French doors. It was a calculated guess, but she had to hope there was another way outside through the sunroom. She knew she’d be safer closer to the wall, so she hurried along the aisle to the opposite end and peered around the corner to check their position. To her horror, Lyle was around the corner and knocked the gun from her hand. He punched her across the face and sent her stumbling backward. That she didn’t fall down was amazing. She appeared momentarily stunned from the tremendous pain to her cheek, but it wasn’t enough to throw her off her game or keep instincts from kicking in. Almost certainly, to Lyle’s surprise, she spun into a backwards roundhouse kick and nailed him in the face. He harshly struck the wall and was more than a little dazed. Years of her father’s combat training came rushing back to her, and she suddenly wasn’t afraid. Her survival instinct took over, and she was ready to inflict pain on this man.

  Dexter suddenly appeared from the opposite end of the bookcase and fired at her. She didn’t even hear the parting of air before feeling the sharp, stabbing pain in her leg. She clutched her bleeding leg and stared at the blood seeping between her fingers. For a split second, she was sure she was going to die. The next silent shot would be the ‘kill’ shot. Her eyes strayed across the floor to her discarded gun. Without hesitation, she threw herself into a roll across the floor toward her gun before he could fire the second, fatal round. She grabbed the discarded gun, rolled into a sitting position, and fired at Dexter without aiming. Dexter jumped behind the safety of the bookcase to the repetitive firing. Jackie limped at a jog for the nearby sunroom while clutching her bleeding leg. Somehow, she no longer felt the pain in her arm.

  She entered the sunroom and saw there was an outer door on the opposite end. She picked up speed despite the pain in her leg, nearly struck the door, and bolted outside. Her leg was burning and pain was shooting up through her body and into her throat. She attempted to block the pain as she ran toward the front of the building. The library was brightly lit outside but there were only empty, newly built homes nearby. It seemed unlikely anyone lived in the homes or someone would have called the police after hearing her shots. Jackie ran as fast as her injured leg would carry her, even though it felt as if her leg would snap in two. Harris’ SUV was just across the lawn and down the street from the library. She now knew why he parked so far from the front of the building. He had undoubtedly been staking out the library and didn’t want to be seen by the governor.

  The front door to the library opened, flooding excess light onto the already lit lawn. The additional light alerted Jackie that the front door had been opened. Without slowing down, she turned and fired at the doorway. Dexter narrowly avoided taking a shot to his head and dove back into the library. Jackie jumped into Harris’ SUV, started it with a little too much vigor, and burned out onto the road, the tires squealing before rocketing away from the library. Jackie tossed the bloodied gun onto the passenger seat and fumbled with a switch on the panel. The red and blue lights flashed. She attempted to keep pressure on her bleeding leg while keeping the vehicle on the road. She couldn’t understand why the road was getting increasingly darker. There was a strange tingling in her head and a loud humming in her ears. Everything was becoming increasingly blurry--

  Chapter Four

  A loud banging sound startled Jackie. She was having trouble opening her eyes, and she didn’t know why. A stabbing pain sent shockwaves through her entire body. She wanted to scream, but nothing came out. She could hear voices shouting over her, and it was moderately frightening. She remembered flying her helicopter. Had she crashed? She struggled to open her eyes. She feared she fell asleep while flying and desperately needed to wake herself before the helicopter spun out of control. For a moment, she heard her father talking over her. Jackie finally opened her eyes, nearly blinded by the brilliant lights. There was another loud bang that jolted her body. The intense pain again shot through her. There was a tremendous burning sensation in her leg. Voices continued shouting all around her. For a brief moment, she saw men and women in white uniforms frantically running alongside her, but she was sure she wasn’t running with them.

  “You keep her alive! I need her alive,” a man’s voice shouted above the rest.

  “You can’t be in here,” the doctor cried out. “Get out!”

  Something covered her nose and mouth as a strange smell invaded her senses. She didn’t know what was happening and fought the object suffocating her. She felt a strange, tingling sensation, and her entire body began to relax. All her pain subsided with welcomed relief.

  †

  It seemed strange that Jackie didn’t remember preparing her father’s private, four-passenger single engine prop plane. In fact, she didn’t even remember take-off. She loved take-off in prop planes. She loved the rhythmic thumping of the wheels rolling faster and faster down the runway, and then lift-off. That moment the plane felt weightless. The day was bright and the clouds sporadically placed in the blue sky like cotton balls. The sound of the engine was almost deafening, but that was part of the small plane experience. It had been a long time since she’d flown ‘old Marge’. She looked at her father in the co-pilot’s seat. Jackson Remus was an impressive man befitting the title, Navy SEAL Lieutenant Commander. He was tall, moderately muscular, and more than intimidating. His clean shaved, bald head added to his commanding presence.

  She didn’t know why it felt like such a long time since she’d last seen him. He’d been home for a few months, she was positive. She missed him so much, and she didn’t even know why. They lived together. It wasn’t as if she didn’t see more of him lately. He caught her looking at him and smiled. He reserved his most sincere smiles for his daughter. Jackie suddenly heard a loud popping sound. Lights on the control panel began flashing and alarms were heard above the roar of the engine. She searched the control panel to find the source of their problem. As she looked alongside her, her father was no longer in the co-pilot’s seat.

  There was an unfamiliar man in a suit occupying the co-pilot’s seat. She then realized she had seen him before, but she wasn’t sure from where. He was clutching his bleeding abdomen in genuine agony. She saw the blood seeping between his fingers and covering his shirt beyond his jacket. Harris was dying! She struggled to control the plane, which now seemed to be sputtering and bucking in midair. She needed to help Harris, but if she released the control wheel, they’d spin out of control. There was suddenly a rush of air, startling her. As she looked to the co-pilot’s seat, the door was open and Harris was gone. Jackie screamed although no sound came from her mouth. No one could hear her!

  †

  Jackie slowly woke what seemed only moments later to a rhythmic beeping sound. The sound was annoying, but she was sure it wasn’t the sound of her alarm clock. She knew she should probably check the control panel and make sure the helicopter was functioning within normal parameters. It was hard to focus, and she couldn’t find the control panel. The stick was a little soft in her hand, so she gripped it harder. She could finally see the control panel in front of her, but for some odd reason, she was lying flat on her back, possibly in a bed. It seemed odd, but she’d worry about that after she found the source of the annoying beeping sound. As she looked to her left, she saw a ruggedly handsome man in his mid-thirties slouched in the co-pilot’s seat. He appeared to be asleep and had his feet propped on her seat. She couldn’t understand why she didn’t recognize him, but it was obviously her father. Who else would be in the co-pilot’s seat of her helicopter?

  “Dad?” Jackie asked in a voice she almost didn’t recognize as her own.

  The neatly dressed man with a day’s worth of stubble on his face woke and looked at her. His feet immediately hit the floor. As her vision cleared, she felt tremendous pain throughout her body. She was now painfully aware that she wa
s in a hospital bed, although how she’d gotten there remained a mystery. She attempted to focus on the man as he lunged for her bedside. Jackie realized this man wasn’t her father and uncertainly looked around.

  “Where’s my father?” she asked and again looked at the handsome man.

  “You didn’t have any ID,” the man informed her. He seemed polite but slightly anxious. “What’s your name?”

  “Jackie,” she gasped softly as another shockwave of pain washed over her. She felt relief once it subsided and again looked at the man. “Jackie Remus.”

  “We’ll notify your father, Jackie,” the handsome man gently informed her.

  She was having a difficult time remembering what she was doing last. She was almost certain she was in a hospital. Jackie could barely make out the outline of a stocky nurse in the doorway. All she could reason was that she’d crashed the helicopter. She wished someone would call her father. She hoped he was okay. If he’d been in the helicopter with her when it crashed--? Something suddenly clicked in her mind. She looked at the man again and thought he looked familiar, although somehow unfamiliar.

  “The commander died years ago,” she announced a little more firmly. “You were there, Monroe. What happened? Did I crash? Everything hurts.”

  “Yes, there was a crash,” the man replied. “You were in a car accident. Do you remember that, Jackie?”

  “Agent Falcone,” the doctor scolded from the doorway. “I really must insist--”

  Agent Holden Falcone held up a warning finger to the doctor with a threatening look then looked back at Jackie and smiled charmingly.

  Jackie suddenly clutched the sheets and appeared frightened. “She’s spinning, Dad,” she gasped while watching the countryside whirling past the helicopter’s windshield. “Take the stick!” She knew they were going to crash!