by David Archer
“Ingersoll said he told you that I was going after Rice, and that he thought you were following me. I take it the guys who went after us in Arkansas were really his people?”
“Oh, no, they were mine, and if they'd managed to catch you before you ran, we probably could have handled all this a lot more easily. However, now we'll deal with it the best we can. For tonight, I think it best we don’t bother to go home, any of us, and we need to get that under secure control.”
Sam agreed, and they turned a few minutes later into a residential area. Winslow drove up to a house and the garage door opened, so he pulled inside.
“We're at your house?” Sam asked.
“Not exactly. This is a safe house we use now and then for special operations. Eugene doesn't know about it, and so I thought it would be ideal for tonight. There should be plenty of room, and we make sure there is always food and such. Come on in and make yourselves at home.” He climbed out of the car and led the way into the house.
Kenzie had slept through almost all of the excitement, so Indie found a place to put her down for the night and got her shoes and socks off, then lay down beside her and fell asleep, herself. Sam followed Winslow through the house, making sure they were alone and secure, and they put the bottle into a safe that Winslow showed him behind a picture on the wall. Sam admitted to himself that he was glad to be rid of it, and that he was exhausted, so it wasn't long before he was stretched out on a spare bed, his Glock under the pillow.
The first crash woke him, but he heard several more, as people dressed in blacked-out battle gear came through windows, guns in their hands and shouting for everyone to get down and stay down. He rolled off the bed instantly, taking the Glock with him, and looked carefully around to see if he could tell how many he had to deal with.
A shot rang out from a room down the hall, and he heard Indie scream. He was up and moving, his hop-skip helping him hurry along, and when he saw a man in black with a short machine gun swinging around toward his own face, he fired without thinking. The helmeted face suddenly imploded, and blood flew everywhere as the man fell back into the hall. Sam snatched up the Heckler and Koch MP7 almost before it hit the floor, and using it in his right hand and the Glock in his left, began moving in the direction of Kenzie’s loud cries.
A motion to his right caught his peripheral vision, and he snapped around to see two men step out of a room. Both were dressed like the one he'd already shot, so he fired the MP7 on full auto, two short bursts of three or four rounds that took both men down at the same time. As he started toward them, he saw Winslow suddenly emerge from the room across the hall and grab one of their weapons, then look at him and motion him on toward Kenzie's terrified sobs.
He turned and started down that hall again as Winslow moved up beside him. They walked low and cautiously to where the hall met the stairwell leading down, and Sam peeked quickly around and down. He turned to Winslow and motioned that there was no one in sight on the stairs, then stepped quickly across and stopped just short of the room where Indie and Kenzie had been sleeping.
He could hear Kenzie crying, and Indie telling her to be quiet, that everything would be okay and Sam would take care of them. He looked quickly into the room and saw that they were on the floor behind the bed. Indie saw him, and started to rise, but he motioned for her to stay put as he turned to the last door on that floor.
Winslow slipped past him and got to it first, leaning his head over to peek in, and then leaning in again and opening fire with his MP7. A muffled curse and a crashing fall from inside told Sam that the old man's aim had been true.
Winslow turned to Sam. “I don't know how they found us, but it's Eugene and his people. They're after the bottle, of course, and we can't let them get it. You understand? We cannot let them get it!”
“I know, and I'm with you. It's downstairs, though, and so are any that are left. Let's get down there and stop 'em!” He leaned around to Indie and tossed her his cell phone. “Call Nine One One,” he said, and then he and Winslow were gone. Indie snatched up the phone, but a second later she realized that it had no signal at all, and simply slid back down behind the bed with her daughter and tried not to listen to the shouts and gunshots going on downstairs.
Sam went down first, with Winslow right behind him, and when he got to the landing where the stairs turned to the right, he leaned quickly and checked before moving out onto it. There seemed to be men in the living room area, where the safe was, and he could hear whispering, but couldn’t make out what was being said.
Winslow was beside him, then, and pointed two fingers toward the living room and then at his own eyes. He laid his weapon down on the stairs beside Sam and stepped out with his hands wide, then walked slowly toward where the whispers were coming from.
“I'm coming in,” he said, “and I am unarmed. Please don't fire on me.” He stepped into the room and out of sight, and Sam waited to hear a shot, but thankfully, it didn't come.
“Open the safe,” Sam heard, recognizing Ingersoll's voice. “Just open it up and we'll be gone, Harry. No more fighting, no more problems.”
“Eugene, you know that's not going to happen. You can kill me if you want to, but that won't get you into it, and no one else has the code. Give it up and leave, while you can. I've had the girl call for help, you know.”
“I don't doubt you told her to, but she didn't. I've got a jammer going, there's not a cell phone within a half mile that can get a signal. And you built this place off by itself, so I'm not worried about neighbors hearing us. No, I can stay here as long as it takes to get that safe open. The only thing you might do by opening it for me is make your own life a little easier. It would mean I wouldn't have to kill those poor girls, and Mr. Prichard. Where is Mr. Prichard, incidentally?”
Sam had moved silently down the rest of the steps, and was standing just outside the door to the living room. He heard his name, and smiled, taking it as a cue, and swung himself around the edge of the doorframe. “I'm right here,” he said, taking in the scene in front of him. Ingersoll had to be the tallest of the three men he saw, the one who was facing Winslow, and the other two seemed to be merely waiting for an order. When they saw Sam, they both tried to bring their weapons up to bear on him, but it was too late.
Sam opened fire, taking them both by surprise, while Ingersoll dived for the floor. Winslow rolled himself to his right, putting him on the floor right in front of Ingersoll, and the two men began grappling for the gun Ingersoll was holding. Sam saw one of the two he'd shot trying to get to his feet, and fired once again, dropping him like a brick. He stepped over to Ingersoll and aimed his MP7 at the man's head.
“Give me half a reason,” he said, “and I'll be more than happy to pull this trigger!”
Ingersoll froze instantly, and looked up at Sam, while Winslow took his weapon. The old man got slowly to his feet, the gun in his hand also keeping Ingersoll covered as he did so.
“There may be more of them,” he said to Sam, “but I doubt it. He would have been counting on the diversion of the men upstairs to throw us off, and probably expected them to take us out in our sleep. Check his pockets for the jammer; he's probably got it on him. Once it's off, we can call in the police.”
Sam found it and turned it off, and called up the stairs for Indie to call the cops again, and Winslow called out the address of the house. She shouted down a moment later that they were on the way, but Sam told her to stay put until they had everything cleared.
The police began arriving less than ten minutes later, and it took a lot of explaining and calls to Homeland Security and the FBI to make the locals understand how serious the situation was. Between that and the number of bodies, both dead and wounded, that were scattered around the house, the cops were trying to find someone to arrest who wouldn't be spirited off by the feds as soon as they cuffed him!
That's exactly what happened to Ingersoll. Four special agents from the FBI showed up and took him into custody, making sure he was chained at t
he wrists, around his waist, between his ankles and then hobbled so he had to walk bent over halfway. Winslow said that would give them a halfway decent chance of not letting him escape, as long as he couldn't find anything to pick a lock with. They loaded him into the back of a van and drove him away.
The interviews and questioning went on until noon, and Sam had to throw a fit to get some food brought in for little Kenzie. When he managed it, the cop in charge had sandwiches brought for the rest of them, as well. Indie thanked him, but the guy was in no mood for politeness, and told her to shut up.
Winslow had told Sam to let him handle the explanations, since there were some things that couldn't be told for security reasons, and Sam was more than happy to agree. The day finally came to a close about three PM, when two men in suits walked in and shook hands with Winslow. Five minutes later, all of the local cops were being escorted out of the house, and Winslow opened the safe and handed the bottle to one of the two suits. It went into a metal briefcase, and Sam thought he'd never been so glad to see the last of something in his entire life.
The adventure, he was told, was over. Somehow, Winslow said the whole thing would come down looking like Ingersoll had tried to make some sort of terrorist deal all on his own, so his cover that he'd worked so hard to maintain would be intact, after all. By the next day, he'd be back to running drug dealers and watching the people who wanted to destroy America.
And Sam could go home and pretend he hadn't helped save the world.
10
Sam got a cab and went to get his Corvette from where he'd abandoned it the night before, only to find that it was gone. He'd left it sitting with the door open and the engine running when he went with Winslow and Indie, and a cop had found it a little while later and decided it must have been the one that outran him an hour before. He’d had it impounded. It took Sam calling in favors from Carlson to get it released, but he finally got home around six that evening. Indie had caught a ride with Winslow, and she and Kenzie were playing in the backyard when he came inside.
He walked out onto his back deck and looked at the two of them, kicking a ball back and forth. Indie spotted him and smiled up at him, then told Kenzie to look who was home. The little girl turned and saw him, then broke into a big smile and ran to him with her arms wide. Sam reached down and caught her, swinging her up and around, and coming to rest with her in a big hug, facing her mother. Kenzie had both arms around his neck, and said, “Sam's home!”'
Sam's eyes went wide, and Indie's went round. They smiled, delighted at the happiness in the child's voice.
Indie stepped up close and patted Kenzie on the shoulder. “You like your Sam, don't you, Sweetie?”
“Yeah, and so do you!” she said, and Indie blushed while Sam laughed.
“Yeah,” Indie said, “he's okay, I guess. Think we oughta stick around a while, do you?”
Kenzie nodded emphatically and said, “Yes!” Sam nodded right along with her, and said, “You just try to get away, just try it! I'm a private eye, baby, I can track you anywhere!”
Indie laughed. “I think I'll take your word for it. Seriously, Sam, this is the best I've felt in a long, long time.”
Sam looked into her eyes and smiled. “I can say the same. It's weird, I know we've only known each other a few days, but I'd swear we've been together for months! It's like I just know you, like I've been looking for you, and didn't know how to find you, but I always knew I would.”
Indie blushed again, and said, “I know what you mean. C'mon in, let me get dinner started.”
Sam, still holding Kenzie, reached out and caught her hand. “Let's go out and have dinner, instead,” he said. “My treat.”
Indie smiled. “Oh, okay. And is this a date, Mr. Prichard?”
“It is indeed, Miss Perkins. Is that all right with you?”
“Why, it's fine with me, Mr. Prichard, but you'll need to ask my daughter's permission, of course!”
Sam grinned and looked at Kenzie, there in his arms. “Kenzie,” he said, “is it okay with you if I ask your Mommy to be my girlfriend?”
Kenzie beamed. “Mommy! Sam wants you to be his girlfriend!” She looked at Sam, and said, “Yeah! That's okay!”
They all went inside to get ready to go out. Sam took a shower, but Indie and Kenzie had already had theirs earlier, so they just changed clothes and Indie took the time to put on makeup and do something with her hair. When Sam came out a half hour later, he let out a low whistle.
“Wow,” he said. “You clean up pretty nice, Indie!”
She blushed, admiring the way Sam looked in a suit and tie, and feeling underdressed in her simple jeans and top. “I think I need to go and find something else to wear,” she said, but Sam caught her arm and stopped her.
“Why would you want to change when you look perfect the way you are?” he asked.
“Um, because you’re wearing a suit, and I feel a little awkward in this getup. I've got a dress. Let me go put it on and...”
Sam stopped her. “I've got a better idea,” he said. He took off the jacket and tie and tossed them onto the couch. “Now we can go!” He took her arm and led the way to the van, putting Kenzie in with her car seat first, before holding Indie's door open for her. When they were both in, he went around and got behind the wheel, and drove them to one of his favorite restaurants: Taco Bell!
They ate at one of the outside tables and Kenzie laughed and had a blast. Indie smiled a lot as they ate tacos and burritos, and then began telling him about the furniture she'd bought for Kenzie's room. She promised to show it to him when they got back home.
Sam was spending a lot of time just watching her with Kenzie, and enjoying it. She was a good mother, he thought, and let himself wonder if she would want to have more children. He'd never quite given up on the idea of having a son or daughter of his own, and since he was allowing himself to admit that he was attracted to Indie, he figured he could let himself have a fantasy or two about the family they might have together.
They made it back home around eight, and Indie announced that it was Kenzie's bedtime. This, she explained patiently to the little girl, was part of the benefit of having her own bedroom; it meant she could not go to bed at a regular time each night. She didn't bother to explain that the one who got the most benefit from it was the mommy, however!
Kenzie had to show Sam her new bedroom, so he carefully followed her up the stairs and into the room beside the one that had been set up as guest room. He made all the right admiring noises about the beautiful canopy bed and dressers and nightstands and the wonderful Disney playset table and chairs, and the toys that were neatly arranged on the shelves that Indie had bought for them. All in all, Sam told Indie, he had to agree that she'd done quite well with the little bit of money he'd given her to spend, and he was proud of her.
The two adults went down to the living room, and Sam started to sit in his recliner, but changed his mind and took a seat on the couch. He lay back against one end of it with his right leg extended, and just let himself relax for a few moments, eyes closed and head back. He opened them when he felt Indie sit down beside him, and let his leg down so she'd have more room.
“Am I crowding you?” she asked him, and he smiled.
“Not a bit. I'm actually enjoying the feel of someone this close to me; that hasn't happened for a long time.”
Indie sat there and looked at him for a long moment. “Me neither,” she said. “I—I should tell you that I haven't even tried to have a relationship with anyone since Jared died, so I'm pretty rusty at it. I mean, I know I like you and all, and I want us to—you know, get to know each other—but I'm not in a hurry to go too far, if you can understand that?”
Sam let his hand fall to her shoulder there beside him, and smiled as he caressed it. “I understand, and I agree. I think people rush too many things, and then they regret it. I don't want you or me to have any regrets about us, okay?”
Indie nodded. “Okay.”
They turned on th
e TV and started watching a movie, snuggled together in a lighthearted way. It was just beginning to get interesting when the doorbell rang. Indie said, “Let me get it,” and rose from the couch. She peeked out through the window, and then opened the door to Harold Winslow.
“Come in,” she said, as Sam got up and walked toward him.
“Winslow,” he said. “I didn't expect to be seeing you again anytime soon. What brings you over tonight?”
Winslow smiled and accepted the offer of a seat on the couch. “Sam—may I call you Sam, now, after we've fought side by side?”
Sam laughed. “I'd say that's fine,” he answered.
“Sam, as you know, my cover is that I run a drug-dealing street gang setup. Only a few people know the truth, and only you two are privy to it around here. It turns out that I'm going to be needing some help to run it, now that Eugene is gone and discredited, and I wondered if you might be interested?” He held up a hand. “And before you suggest it, I've already given Mr. Rice a promotion, and sent him out to the Vegas operation. That was mostly to get him away from his daughter, but he might know a bit too much for my peace of mind, anyway, so I'm glad he's out of here!”
Sam looked at him for a long moment. “Winslow...”
“Harry, please,” the old man said.
“Okay, Harry—I understand that you do what you do for the greater good that comes from being there to spot things like the stuff we just stopped, but underneath it all, the people you run are still dealing drugs. I spent ten years trying to put a stop to that, and I can't see how I could bring myself to work at selling the stuff now.”