Extreme Measures

by Rachel Carrington

  “What in the hell are you doing?” Matt threw him to the ground and tried the doorknob. It wouldn’t turn, and his skin crawled. Stuart might not have planned this, but obviously prison had taught him to think fast on his feet.

  Still lying on the concrete floor, Stuart began to chortle, the sound high-pitched, frenetic. “Bet you didn’t figure on dying right here with me and Erin, did you, Matt? I told you we were gonna have a family reunion. Guess you didn’t expect it to be in hell.”

  Stuart took great pleasure watching Matt check the remainder of the room for any possible exit. He couldn’t contain his glee when his ex-brother-in-law finally realized they were trapped.

  “Don’t worry, Matt. It’ll all be over soon.”

  Matt came at him so fast he didn’t have time to pull away, snagging a handful of Stuart’s grimy t-shirt and yanking him forward until their noses were almost touching. “If you think I’m going to let my wife die today because of your twisted sense of equality, you left whatever brain cells you had back at Attica.”

  “She’s probably already dead.” Stuart swiveled his head toward where his sister slumped. “It’s not anything you can fight. It’s hard when the enemy is invisible, isn’t it?”

  Matt let him go, his face clearing. Dammit. He’d said too much. Matt had that look on his face, the one he’d seen many times before right before he solved an investigation.

  “Invisible?” Circling the room, Matt looked up, his gaze sweeping from one end of the small room to the other.

  “Just a figure of speech.” The attempt at distraction didn’t work.

  “Now why don’t I believe that?”

  No! Matt couldn’t notice the vent. That wasn’t part of the plan. No one was supposed to leave here alive. A little panicked now, Stuart surged forward, planting himself squarely in front of Matt in a challenging manner.

  Whatever step he took next would be a risk. Matt outweighed him by a good fifty pounds, most of that muscle. Stuart never figured he’d be able to best him in a fight, but a broken nose would be worth it if it meant salvaging his hastily formed plan.

  Matt tried to side step him, but Stuart moved with him in an awkward tango. So Matt stopped moving, his eyes narrowing. “There’s something here you don’t want me to find, isn’t there?” His gaze lifted, trained just over Stuart’s right shoulder. “Something like a torn water heater vent?”

  With a curse, Stuart planted his hands against Matt’s chest and shoved. “Give it up, Matt. I’m not letting you anywhere near that.” He only need a little time, and the only way he was going to be able to get it now was to fight for it.

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” The gleam in Matt’s eyes told Stuart he was primed for a fight.

  Stuart’s time in prison had honed his fighting skills, but most of that had been accompanied by a weapon of some sorts. Here, he was empty-handed, and he’d seen Matt’s hand-to-hand combat skills. The odds weren’t in his favor.

  He slid a glance toward Erin, saw Matt follow his look. Then, with a shout of triumph, Stuart leaped across the distance. His hands curved around his sister’s neck, and he jerked his head up to send Matt a smug smile. “Now, if I was you, I’d back away from that water heater.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Matt couldn’t take his eyes off Stuart’s hands around Erin’s neck, but he had to close that vent. His mind worked overtime, running through possible scenarios and quickly discarding each one.

  Stuart wasn’t going to put the ace back up his sleeve, and brute force wouldn’t work. If Matt charged him, the dive could break Erin’s neck. And there was no way in hell he was taking the slightest chance with Erin’s life. Which left him with only one possible option.

  “You know, Stuart, I find it hard to believe that you broke out of Attica just to kill Erin. You obviously had her before I found you. Yet, you didn’t kill her then.” Matt shook his head slowly, turning to give Stuart his full, undivided attention. “No, there has to be something more.”

  “There’s nothing more.” Stuart thrust out his chin. “She’s the only reason I’m here.”

  “Really?” Matt injected a note of disbelief into his voice, much like he would with a dim-witted suspect. “Then why didn’t you kill you when you had the chance?”

  “Who says she’s not dead now?” Stuart had started to sweat, the drops of perspiration beading on his forehead.

  “You wouldn’t be standing there with your hands around her neck if she was.”

  Stuart shifted from one foot to the other. “Maybe. Maybe not, but you won’t do anything that might risk her life. Until you know for certain if she’s dead or alive, you’ll do exactly what I tell you to do.”

  Matt chuckled softly, eyeing his ex-brother-in-law in time to see a frown slip into place. The last thing Stuart would expect would be humor.

  “What’s so funny?” Using his shoulder, Stuart wiped the sweat from his upper lip.

  “You. Thinking you have everyone around you figured out. How much longer do you think it’s going to be before this room is invaded by SWAT? You think they won’t be able to find it because it’s hidden so far inside the basement? Hell, every law enforcement officer with half a brain knows to check the boiler room, Stuart, and they have the building plans so it’s not going to be difficult to find.” Matt tipped his head to one side. “Do you even have any idea how many police officers are outside this building right now?”

  “Doesn’t matter. That sniper will take care of them.”

  “I hope you weren’t counting on that because he was apprehended about ten minutes ago.” Matt tapped his earpiece. “That’s a bitch, isn’t it? Guess you didn’t factor that into your plan, did you? Or was that Chambers’ plan?” He shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

  Stuart’s hands had started to shake, his gaze sliding back and forth between the vent and the door, almost like he was trying to decide whether or not to make a run for it.

  “Since you’re dying anyway,” Matt continued in a conversational tone, “and you know I’m not going to let you kill Erin, why don’t you just save us both some time and get away from her?”

  “You think you’re so damned smart, don’t you?” Stuart spat on the ground. “But this is my time, Matt. My time. Do you know how long I rotted in that prison while Erin ignored me, pretended I didn’t even exist? She even changed her name because she was too ashamed to share mine. How do you think that made me feel?”

  “Do I look like a therapist to you?” Matt kept up the psychological warfare, stabbing where he knew it would hurt the most. “I could give a shit what Erin did to you. You deserved all of it and more. If I’d had my way, you would have been strapped to a table with a needle heading straight toward your vein long before now.”

  Stuart’s eyes bulged, and a vein in his forehead stood out clear against his white skin. “I could snap her neck right now.”

  The raspy sound of his voice coupled with the wild look in his eyes had Matt pushing the envelope. Stuart wouldn’t kill Erin if she was unconscious. No, he’d want her to suffer. The carbon monoxide was just a back-up device in case he hadn’t made it back to her. Now that he was standing there with her, he’d want to enjoy his kill. This was what he’d planned for a long time. No way was he going to rush it.

  “SWAT is en route.” The hurried voice in his ear brought a quick sigh of relief. They’d decoded his message, had understood where he was. Now all he had to do was bide his time.

  “I’m going to kill you,” Stuart muttered, his eyes going glassy. “Yeah, you first.” He squatted and snagged a piece of discarded pipe off the floor. “Guess you didn’t see this, did you, Mr. FBI man?”

  Matt could give a shit about the pipe. All he noticed was that Stuart’s right hand was now away from Erin’s neck. His left, now that he was back on his feet, barely touched her skin. The focus had shifted, and Stuart had taken aim at him.

  “You really don’t want to do this, Stuart.” Though he issued the warning, Matt
began to walk slowly toward his ex-brother-in-law. “How do you think this is going to end?”

  Stuart stepped out from behind Erin, tapping the pipe against his palm. “Well, let’s just say I think Lady Luck has smiled on me. Looks like the odds have just tipped in my favor.”

  “And a piece of pipe is giving you that much confidence?” Now that Stuart was several inches away from Erin, Matt began to relax. He wasn’t worried about Stuart. He could crush him like a bug, would even enjoy doing it.

  “You weren’t there in Attica. You haven’t seen what I can do with a piece of pipe.”

  Matt lifted one eyebrow. “I can’t even begin to tell you how disinterested I am. So if you’re going to make your grand show, go ahead.” He braced his feet. “Take your shot.”

  Blinking rapidly, like he’d just snorted a line of coke, Stuart took a crossways step toward Matt then stopped. He grimaced and clasped his temple. “Damn headache,” he mumbled.

  It couldn’t be this easy. Whatever was killing Stuart might be intervening, or he could be acting, trying to convince Matt he was no real threat. Either way, Matt wasn’t taking the bait. He didn’t lower his guard.

  “Let’s do this.” Matt moved forward, increasing the threat.

  Stuart’s head lifted, his eyes fixed and watery. “Looks like you get your wish, after all.”

  “What wish is that?”

  “To see me die.” He clasped his head again and moaned.

  Still not buying it, Matt advanced further. “You’re going to let a headache take away your one and only shot at doing me in? I don’t think so.”

  Still moaning, Stuart dropped to one knee, the pipe now grasped loosely in his hand. “It’s over, man. You win. It’s over.”

  Before Matt could say another word, Stuart swung upward with the pipe, iron connecting with bone as it rammed into Matt’s left arm.

  The crack resounded throughout the room, and the pain of breaking bone nearly brought Matt to his knees, but the sight of Stuart’s grin gave him a surge of adrenaline. Using his right arm, he delivered an uppercut that made Stuart teeter backwards. He followed that punch by a well-placed kick to Stuart’s abdomen, topping him over.

  Cursing, Stuart rolled, still clutching the pipe. “I’m gonna break every bone in your miserable body, you rotten bastard.” He got back to his feet, poking the air with the iron.

  Matt jumped back, gritting his teeth as the action jarred his useless arm. Dammit. He gave himself a mental shake and pushed through. There wasn’t much that could make him give up, and he’d never seen the day when he’d turn his back on someone he loved. Whatever waltz Stuart had planned was about to be changed to a really quick salsa, though. Erin didn’t have that much time left.

  He parried Stuart’s thrusts with the pipe, countered with a roundhouse kick that popped Stuart in the pelvis. Stuart gave a yelp and danced backwards, clutching his lower half with one hand. Matt took advantage of the upper hand and followed with a risking knee strike to Stuart’s chest.

  The pipe fell from Stuart’s fingers, clattering against the floor at the same time he went to his knees, gasping for breath.

  Behind them, the door burst open, and SWAT swarmed the room.

  Matt smiled grimly. “Enjoy the trip back to Attica.” A side kick sent Stuart sprawling face first into the concrete floor.

  While Stuart lay in a groaning heap, Matt spun around and raced to Erin’s side. “Someone get me a knife!”

  “Sir, your arm. We’ve got this. You should let the paramedics check you out.”

  Matt shook off the concern of the officer. “I’m not going anywhere without her.” Someone gave him the handle of a hunting knife, and he quickly sliced through the ropes binding Erin’s hands and the shirt covering her mouth.

  Shouldering her weight, he wrapped his right arm around her and lowered her to the floor. He could feel a slight pulse thrumming against his fingertip, but no breath escaped her mouth. “She’s not breathing.” He shouted the words around a tight knot of panic in his throat. “Get those paramedics in here, and close that damn vent somehow!”

  He pinched Erin’s nose and covered her mouth with his, sharing his breath while mentally encouraging her to respond. “Come on,” he whispered in between puffs of air. “You’re alive. Come back to me.”

  His heart stuttered after several attempts refused to produce any results. Hands shaking, he brushed her hair away from her face, pleaded with her to breathe again. “You can’t leave me, Erin. Not now.”

  They were on their way back to one another, and the thought of losing her again ripped his lungs from his chest. She was his heart. His soul. And he wasn’t leaving Charleston without her.

  Renewing his efforts, he commanded her to breathe again, to take the oxygen he was giving her and make it her own.

  The clatter of wheels on the stairs accompanied heavy footsteps. Then a firm hand gripped Matt’s shoulder. He looked up, saw the paramedic, and stood up, staggering backwards.

  The last few minutes sank in at the same time the pain in his arm came to the forefront. “Someone make sure that bastard on the floor is shackled tight. Get him into a cell as quickly as possible. If he resists, send him back to Attica in a body bag.”

  “Well, it’s nice to see your eyes finally open. They’ve been fluttering a bit, but this is the first time they’ve stayed open long enough for me to see you.”

  The singsong voice came from a nurse with a wide smile and dark brown hair. Erin narrowed her eyes to really see the woman’s face, but the bright sunlight streaming into the room made it difficult to see much.

  “How long have I been here?” She almost recoiled at the sound of her own voice. It rasped like she hadn’t anything to drink in days. One hand reached up and touched her hair before drifting down to her face.

  “Oh, you look fine, honey. No need to worry about that.” The nurse began checking the machines.

  Erin wanted to laugh. She wasn’t concerned with her appearance. She was alive. That was all that mattered. Well, that and…she tried to lift her head up to search the room, but she didn’t have the strength.

  “Matt?” She asked the nurse in the same croaking voice.

  “You mean your husband? Don’t you worry about him. He just went to get some coffee. I shooed him out of here a few minutes ago.” She leaned in like she was about to impart a trade secret. “Between you and me, he should have gone home by now. But he wouldn’t hear of it. He’s been here every night, sleeping in that chair over there.” She jerked her head toward a beige recliner then grimaced. “Couldn’t have been too comfortable.”

  As the nurse rattled on, Erin didn’t need to hear any more. Her brain kept repeating the most important words. He’s been here every night.

  Matt had survived his encounter with Stuart, if he had even had one. She released a breath she didn’t even realize she’d been holding, and a huge weight fell from her shoulders.

  “And here he is,” the nurse crowed, turning to welcome Matt into the room. “She was just asking about you.” Her nimble fingers fussed over the IV tube in Erin’s arm. “Everything still looks good. Do you want something to drink, sweetie? I know you must be parched after being asleep for so long.”

  Erin tried to see around her, but Matt kept to the doorway. “Ice water sounds good.” Anything that would hurry the nurse out of the room.

  “Sure thing, and that’ll give you and your honey a chance to talk. I know he’s been dying to hear your voice.” She winked and headed toward the door.

  As soon as the woman moved away, Erin got a good look at Matt. His left arm was in a cast, his eyes were bloodshot, and he hadn’t shaved in several days. He wore a wrinkled white shirt beneath his holster and black slacks that had lost their crease days ago. And she thought he’d never looked better.

  Matt set the cup of coffee down on the tray attached to her bed. “How are you feeling?” He leaned over the rail, taking her hand in his.

  From the corner of her eye, Erin saw
the door swing shut behind the nurse. “I think I’m okay. How long was I out?”

  “About three days. They put you in a hyperbaric chamber first, and when you wouldn’t wake up…” He broke off and shook his head. “You scared the hell out of me.” He gently brushed the hair back from her face.

  She captured his fingers, wondering at the weakness of her muscles. “How long was I down there?”

  “Maybe an hour. I don’t know. The doctor couldn’t be for sure how much carbon monoxide you’d been exposed to.” He continued to stroke her cheek.

  “And Stuart?”

  “Still in lock-up at county, but we’re processing the paperwork to transport him back to Attica in federal custody.”

  For a brief moment, panic overloaded her brain, and she squeezed Matt’s fingers a little too tightly before he pried her hand away.

  “It won’t happen again, Erin. Stuart will have to stand trial for the murders he committed across the states. He’s bound to get the death penalty in one of them, probably here. Prisoners don’t escape from death row.”

  His soothing voice reassured her, and she exhaled slowly. “Did he do that to your arm?”

  “With a little help from a pipe.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Matt shrugged. “Dangers of the job.” He resumed running his fingers along her jawline. “I’m just glad to see those beautiful eyes of yours open.”

  She wasn’t so sure how beautiful they were right now, but looking at him through her own set of rose-colored glasses, she let the fib pass. “I don’t think I’ve ever prayed that hard in my entire life. And when he left that room, I thought I was dead.” Tears flooded her eyes, but she blinked them away just as rapidly as they’d appeared.

  “You had to know I wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.” Matt brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her palm.

  She closed her eyes.

  “We should talk.” They both spoke simultaneously then locked gazes.

  “Not here, though.” Erin shook her head. “When I get out. I just don’t know when that will be.”