by Tony Lavely
When the girl clambered down, Beckie handed her the phone. “Check with Sue, make sure everything’s still a go from their end.”
When Lisa handed her the phone back, Beckie was making the turn into Mission Bay, having avoided the mouth of the San Diego River, and when she took the phone, Lisa said, “As far as they know, everything’s fine. They picked up Stacy and the Chief right on time, and their GPS says oh seven forty-four for ETA.”
“Good. Thanks. Now, either below and rest, or up on top and keep a lookout for me.” Beckie smiled as Lisa made her way back to the spot she’d used before.
After ten minutes of quiet running, Beckie nosed the Sea Ray into a pier at Campland and shut down the engines. Lisa scampered to tie the boat to cleats on the pier. By the time all was secure, Sam had arrived and helped carry the insulated coffee pots to the RV.
“From the little we can tell,” he said while fixing coffees, “they are doing two on, two off. You think Chelsie knows when Sue’s expected?”
“I think she has a GPS signaling her of their every move, yes. So she can make as good a guess as we can. That’s currently seven forty-five.”
“Well, looks like they must have arrival information,” Sam said. Beckie looked at her phone. Quarter past six. “Ben reports all four of them are moving around, like they’re clearing space.” He glanced at Beckie. “Ben’s headed to the Sea Ray.”
“That seems a little early,” she said. “But, hey. Let’s go. I’ll let you know if the arrival time changes.”
Sam waved to Gillian and Elena. “Refrain from gunplay.” Ian’s command. Beckie swallowed, hard. They nodded, and the three of them left.
Beckie had wanted to go with them, to be in the boarding party when the inflatable crashed the action alongside the Merri Soo. But she had Five’s phone, and Lisa, though anxious and willing, was not prepared for that action. So she and Lisa stood outside the RV, close enough to see the empty space where Rich would park the van, far enough away that no one would take notice. She had the ear mounted radio to talk to Sam and to Stacy, handling communications from the van.
“It’s too early for us to be outside, yet,” she explained to Lisa, knowing that it was as much to reassure herself as to enlighten the girl, who’d after all listened to all the planning. Lisa had again donned the scraps of fabric swimsuit—“anything else would rub the burned parts”—with Sam’s chambray shirt over it, open. Beckie had selected khaki shorts with a tee shirt, armor and an overshirt. Millie had been adamant about the armor. “You’re so hard-headed a bullet will bounce off, but the baby…” She’d acknowledged defeat and shrugged into the vest. She hoped it didn’t get too warm before this came to a successful end.
The radio clicked. “Sam’s in position under the dock. No one spotted them.”
Lisa said nothing, just threw herself into a chair and wrapped the shirt close.
“You okay?”
“Sure,” Lisa said. “My whole fucking world’s about to go Boom! and here I sit wearing a swimsuit Mom’d tan my butt for even owning, let alone wearing, and a man’s shirt who I just met two days ago! Why wouldn’t it be fine?” She rubbed at her face, but Beckie could still see the tears.
“I know. I’d hug you, but I think that would hurt too much. You’re doing fine.”
“But I can’t even do anything!”
“Your time will come. My experience says don’t rush; your chance’ll be along soon enough.” She accepted the forlorn nature of Lisa’s nod. “Will you guys be able to come for Christmas?” Lisa gaped at her. “Might as well get these little social niceties taken care of while we wait, right?”
“Yeah, I guess. Yeah, Mom and Dad will be there. You didn’ say about Megan, but I invited her, too. I hope that’s okay?”
Beckie was sure the question was in response to her look of surprise and confusion. “Sorry, I don’t remember, Megan?”
“One of the girls with Wendy. Mom and Dad adopted her after… after her folks didn’t want her or something. It never got explained real well.”
“Oh.” Beckie tried to put more understanding into it than she had, but it didn’t matter. “You did the right thing. Thanks for covering for my forgetfulness.”
Finally the radio came to life. Sue announced, “The Campland sign just hove into view.” Sam sent another click to acknowledge it. Beckie stepped out and watched the gray van creep along the driveway three rows over. As soon as the men saw it, she sent Lisa to the next slot to watch the powerboat. She scampered back as soon as the van stopped and began backing into the empty space. “Here,” said the radio. A double click from Sam.
“Two of the men are coming ashore to meet them,” Lisa reported, a little breathless.
Yeah, that feeling of excitement’ll pass soon enough. “Good. Who knows; maybe Chelsie’ll be right for once.”
Lisa gave her a look, but then pulled her over to watch. “The two are helping to unload the case. Gee, it’s bigger than I thought.”
It is, Beckie agreed silently. Death comes in all sizes, I guess.
For a minute, perhaps two, they watched as the four men wrangled the box out of the van, across the walkway and along the dock to the powerboat. Rich and one of the customers stepped aboard and worked the package over the rail. The Chief followed it aboard while one of the customers who hadn’t helped so far took the final handhold; they finished the job, resting it on the boat’s deck.
As soon as they did, the other man aboard, who so far had done nothing, shouted in what Beckie guessed was Arabic.
Pop!
Rich pitched backwards and collapsed against the rail, out of sight. Before she could holler to the radio, Elena and Gillian came over the dockside while, silhouetted by the rising sun, Sam and Ben swarmed over the outside rail and smothered the man with the gun Beckie now could see.
A motion caught her eye; the customer who’d helped carry the package to the boat but hadn’t boarded was dashing off the dock, making toward the far side of the grounds, toward the gate where the van had entered. In the same moment, Beckie saw Sue and Stacy headed toward the boat. Yeah, check on Rich! He’s gotta be wearing armor… I hope!
The sight of the two women running had taken Beckie’s attention. Another flash, this time of bare skin, and she was running after Lisa.
Lisa hit the running man and grabbed him, making a respectable open-field tackle. They rolled and rolled and Beckie began to relax. Until a cry of pain from Lisa and another from the man were followed by another unmistakeable Pop! Lisa convulsed, once.
Another five steps and Beckie landed her knees at the man’s neck, hoping she’d broken it, but pretty sure she hadn’t. Before she could move, Stacy grabbed the man’s arm, digging for his weapon. Oh, yeah. Where’s your training, girl? She helped Stacy drag the man off Lisa, and grabbed the bloody knife that fell free, throwing it out of his reach.
A glance showed that Stacy could neutralize any threat he might still present, and Beckie turned to Lisa. “Millie, to me!”
Lisa was covered in blood. Beckie couldn’t even see the injuries, which she was sure wasn’t a good sign. Lisa’s breaths came in short little gasps. She felt a hand on her shoulder, pulling her away; she fought for a second before looking to see Millie. “Fix her, dammit! I want her, and we need to get outta here!”
Millie threw her out of her way without a word and dropped to her knees, working before she landed. “Get out of here and leave me! I need ten minutes, at least.”
Beckie turned to see Stacy standing open-mouthed. “What?”
“I never thought… She’s really something.”
“Something alive, I hope to God. Him?”
“Alive, unconscious and bound.”
“Good. Thanks. Let’s find the others.”
On the boat, Sue was tending to Rich. The armor combined with the gun’s suppressor had prevented penetration, but Sue was sure he had a bruised rib and “he’ll have one helluva colorful left side for several weeks.”
Sam and Be
n had secured the man with the gun; since there was no reason not to, Sam had pitched the weapon toward the middle of the bay. The Chief, Gillian and Elena had engaged the last two men; one had a relatively minor knife wound. Both were festooned in tie wraps which nearly prevented their breathing.
“Sam, good work! Good job, everyone! Now, we have two casualties, and we’ve gotta get clear. I’m going to call Five while you all get Rich wherever Sue wants him, and Lisa wherever Millie wants her. The boat is probably no slower than a car right now, unless the Vinson’s still in the channel. The RV might be best; we can lay Lisa out there.” She stopped to breathe. “I’ll call Jean-Luc; it’s probably safe for us to leave.”
She dug in her pocket for the throwaway phone. “Five, outcome one, if you get here quick. We have two casualties, and we’ll take a couple of minutes to clear out, but we’ll be out of your way.”
She dropped the phone in the water and ran to Millie, still kneeling over Lisa’s body.
“… want to get her on an operating room table.”
“Millie,” Beckie said, “do you want to do that here somewhere, or back at the Nest? I’ve called Jean-Luc; he’ll be ready to fly before we’re there, but he needs to give Homeland Sec—”
“I know the damn drill! He brought the Gulfstream so we don’t have a good place to work in flight. I can do enough in the RV to determine what to do. Guys, pick her up and put her on the bed that runs fore and aft. While you’re doing that, I’ll see about Rich, though I’m sure Sue’s got him triaged.”
Beckie gave the doctor her attention, but she still noticed a horde of gray uniformed men racing from several of the campers parked in the lot, as well as rushing from cars coming in the gates.
“Let’s get out of here, guys, before we can’t. Sam, can you take the wheel? Stacy, is there anything in the van we want? Just drive it out, if there is. Elena, can you drive the Sea Ray back to the marina? Call Maurice if we’ve left by then; he’ll get you home.”
On the way to the gate, Beckie saw Five attempting to direct traffic. “Stop a second, Sam.” She leaned out the window. “Five!” When he looked, she waved him over and met him at the door. “I know you’re not here, and I know for sure you don’t want to know this, but based on Lisa’s reaction to you… She’s our major casualty. I can let you see her for a second before we go to get her fixed. If you want. And you keep it to yourself. Specif—”
“Beckie, we got to get going!”
“A moment. Com’on, Five.”
Even knowing what he was going to see, Beckie feared that he would fold up on himself when he saw Lisa covered in blood and makeshift dressings. Millie gave him just enough room to bend over and kiss her forehead. His lips moved, but the words were silent.
When she touched his shoulder, he stood and said, “Get her out of here and to a hospital! I’ll clear the way.”
Traffic slowed them enough that Millie had a preliminary diagnosis: “She’s got a knife wound from her lower rib cage to her throat which almost split her right breast. We wouldn’t be talking if the knife had been a half inch deeper. Then, the gunshot… God, I hate these things. In under her left arm, broke a couple of bones going through, came out and clipped her jaw. It’s broken, I think, but maybe we can keep her teeth. But the problem will be if it punctured her lung. I need to check that.”
“So, the lung and then putting her breast and body back together, and then the broken shoulder and jaw?” Beckie sighed. “Your opinion, Doctor: do we take her home or put her in hospital here? Remember, if you change your mind while we’re at altitude, it will take thirty to forty-five minutes to land and another hour to get to a hospital.”
“Yeah, I know. Let’s take her home. Your friend Carver can make her breast pretty again. Give me another five minutes before we bring her aboard.”
“Sam, can you and Ben help with her, please. I’ll go and get Jean-Luc started. We’ll have to fly here to Lauderdale; clear Customs and Immigration there.”
Beckie was certain that the plane would need a new interior before the lease ran out; maybe before anyone else used it. Millie had directed Sam and Ben to place Lisa on the plane’s sofa; now, with Sam holding the girl’s head and Ben her feet, she continued the suturing she’d begun in the RV. “These are temporary,” she explained. “We’ll replace them with more cosmetically appealing stitches when…” As if on command, the plane jounced. “… when she’s not in motion!”
Every minute or so, the nurse listened to Lisa’s breathing, “making sure her lung isn’t filling with blood or that air is leaking in or out.”
However, all that had been after a short but emotional phone conversation with Lisa’s mother. After she’d made sure Mrs. Grove understood that Lisa would live and that she and however many of her family as wished could come to the Nest again for as long as they desired, she talked to Lisa’s father and made arrangements. Ranks right up there with those conversations I told Kerry about.
Late the next day, Beckie left Lisa’s room in the hospital. Since they’d arrived, Lisa had been X-rayed, scanned, and the plastic surgeon—Doctor Carver—repaired the damage to her chest to ensure first that the breast would be able to function and second that the cicatrix wouldn’t put anyone off, “though I’m afraid your days as a nude fashion model are probably over. I won’t be able to hide the scar completely.”
“That’s alright,” Lisa had said in a burst of impish delight. “I’ll get a tattoo explaining it; who could complain then?”
“Right!” Beckie rejoined. “Save the world and San Diego, too.”
“Do I want to know about this?”
“No, Doctor, but thanks!”
“The jaw’s not so bad. As long as you’re careful, that should hardly show in a few months. Good job making sure it didn’t get broken.”
“I went out of my way,” Lisa said, mock serious. “Oh… Will you be here tomorrow? I think my sister would like to say hi. You did some work on her a few years ago.”
“Sure. Always glad to see former patients. That way, I can see if the promises I make pan out.” He had dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and slipped away.
Lisa’s parents were on the Nest, too. Patrice had flown to Oakland and brought them back. They had spent several hours with Lisa; Beckie expected them back shortly. Not excited to see them, are you? she told herself. Coward. They need time to rest, too. Coward.
Boynton met her at the door. “I will permit you a glass of wine tonight, though you may wish it were a bottle.”
Well, that’s the kind of greeting I don’t need. She fixed him with the sternest glare she could summon.
“You have guests on the lanai. I offered snacks but they declined. They did accept a variety of refreshments.”
Who…
She pressed her hands against her shirt and shorts, then swept her hair back, wishing for a scrunchie. Who could it be? Don’t be fucking stupid. You know it’s the Groves.
It was. The surprise was that Amy and Beth were there as well. Actually, Beckie told herself, Wendy and Megan must be with Lisa; only the parents are here. She stood in the doorway for a brief moment. Should I…
“Hi,” she said as brightly as she could muster. “I hope you’ve rested some, and seen Lisa. So…” She reached for her hair and pulled it around to fiddle with. “… are you here to see me about real estate? None available. However.” She faced Mr. Grove. “Go Rou has several positions open… Without knowing anything about your area of expertise, you should still talk to her. Perhaps you can come to an agreement. You know her, of course; she handles Wendy and Megan’s trusts. Would you like to meet with her?” She took her phone, ignoring the shocked looks from everyone except Amy. Yeah, Amy knows me. She sees that I’m keeping the upper hand as long as I can. Since I’m scared to death of what this group wants to talk about!
Mr. Grove stuttered and fumbled over his astonished acceptance, and Beckie scrolled to Rou’s number. “Yeah, I know it’s late, but Lisa’s dad might be a match fo
r one of those openings you’ve complained about not being able to fill. When’s a good time?”
They agreed he could come over right then, or in the morning, depending on his preferences. Beckie hoped he’d choose now, but didn’t think he would.
His wife, however… When Beckie said either now or tomorrow, she whispered in her husband’s ear before he said, “If Mrs. Go can see me now, I’ll do that. I don’t have any—”
“Don’t worry about that. Rou will take care of anything you need, I’m sure.” Beckie turned back toward the house. “Maurice, can I impose on you to go with Mr. Grove? He needs to meet with Rou, in her office.”
“Certainly, Mistress. While I’m gone, perhaps these would be of interest to all of you?” He dropped several newspapers on the glass table.
Beckie pushed the stack apart, enough to see the New York Times and Washington Post banners, along with the San Diego Daily Transcript. That one told her what she needed to know; she pushed the broken stack toward the three women.
Mrs. Grove glanced at the headline, supplied no doubt by Chelsie’s agency, before shoving the paper away from her. “It’s all well and good to save the world. What about Lisa? She’s lying there…” She waved at Bon Secours. “… scarred for life, nearly dead… She could have died. How could you have allowed that!”
Don’t try and think you’re surprised. What do you tell her? “I suppose I could have sent her off to be with you… again, but—”
Amy held up her hand. “Why did you think it was a good idea to involve her when neither of the people you instructed to mentor her were present?” And that’s why Amy and Beth are here. “She wasn’t ready for that… you know she wasn’t!”
The decision to allow Lisa to stay almost cost her her life. Sure she asked… demanded, once Eric left, to have a useful part… but I could have… We’re back at the end justifies the means, I guess. The guy she stopped was the one Chelsie wanted most, so she got the brass ring.