Dark Star

by Roslyn Holcomb

  Knowing he’d done all he could do to achieve success; he carefully shimmied into the opening under the tree. It wasn’t very large, but he was confident that it would be sufficiently difficult to find, especially in the low light. He focused on slowing his breathing and heart rate, timing his breaths and pauses until he reached a trance-like state. Now there was nothing to do but wait, and he indulged himself with sweet memories of his last time with Tonya. They’d gone swimming at dawn in their hidden cove. The water was warm and smooth as silk caressing their bare skin. Tonya, her skin darkened by the amount of time they’d spent in the tropical sun had shimmered like golden amber in the soft dawn light. He reached out to caress her tawny skin -- even now he could all but feel it under his hands. He was determined to survive today so he’d have a chance to make more memories with his love.

  It didn’t take nearly as long as he’d anticipated for the Rooster and his men to come into the area around the tree. Nate sat still, his chest not even moving. Before long the men approached the downed tree.

  “Nate Randolph, I presume,” the Rooster said staring into what Nate knew to be pitch-blackness inside the canyon.

  Nate almost laughed at the hackneyed line, but this was no laughing matter. “That would be me.”

  “You might as well come out, Randolph. Contrary to your own press you can’t disappear like smoke.”

  “Unfortunately that’s quite correct, but I can’t imagine why your men are chasing me when I’m just a simple mechanic looking to do more work for you.”

  “I know exactly who and what you are Randolph. The contents of that vial were absolutely worthless. Even worse, you blew up my house. I’ve killed men for significantly less. I really liked that house,” the Rooster said. “Come out now and I might be persuaded to simply kill you, as opposed to torturing you to death.”

  Interesting that he didn’t mention the half-dozen or so people who had died as well. Nate suspected he mourned them far more deeply than their employer did. “Tempting as your invitation is, I don’t think so. I’m enjoying the peace and tranquility, so I have no real reason to come out. And with the tree blocking the entrance you certainly can’t come in and get me.”

  “You left your weapons back at the house, so you have no way to fight us. You might as well come out, as you have no way to escape. I certainly have no compunction against starving you into compliance,” the Rooster said.

  Nate smiled. “So it would appear. That being the case, why don’t y’all come on in?” Only a fool would take him up on that invitation. Because of the tight opening only one of them could enter at a time -- even worse they would be blind coming into the pitch blackness after the relative light outside. He had left his weapons behind, but they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure of that either. He waited for their response, and when there was none, he continued, “You forgot one thing when you were reading my press. I always have a backdoor.” Even in the dim light he could tell exactly when the men realized they were standing on a tiny wire and exactly what that meant. Because he’d abandoned most of his materiel at the house when he escaped, the IED he’d created had taken every bit of craftsmanship he had. “I wouldn’t do too much moving around if I were you guys. Those lines are pretty damned sensitive.” Actually they weren’t. To tell the truth he wasn’t altogether sure the explosives would work, but they’d have no way of knowing that.

  “We still have you surrounded and backup is coming,” the Rooster bluffed.

  Nate shook his head; if they had help coming they would be here by now. “Tsk. Tsk. Max. Didn’t your mother teach you not to lie?” And with that Nate raised the cell phone he used as a detonator for the improvised explosives. “Always remember to close the backdoor,” he said as he punched in the code setting off the booby traps he’d planted around the tree. The sound of the explosions echoed through the canyon and left his ears ringing so badly he was convinced he’d be permanently deaf. His breathing techniques could no longer control his heartbeat. He was fairly certain all three men were dead, but there was only one way to be sure, and if he was wrong then he was a dead man. Either way he really didn’t have much of a choice. Waiting much longer was impossible.

  He carefully slid under the tree to exit the cave. The Rooster’s men were dead; there was no mistaking that. The blast had scattered pieces of them several feet around the tree. The Rooster was pretty much intact, but he wasn’t moving and the gaping wound in his chest told the tale. Due to the tricky nature of explosives, the Rooster, who was closest to the explosion, suffered the least damage of the three. Nate paused as he always did to say a prayer for the man’s soul and for forgiveness of his own sin. Then he looked down at the rapid flow of blood coming from the gunshot wound in his side. Weak from loss of blood he leaned against the tree that had been his salvation, but he feared that nothing would save him now. But at least he could die knowing that Tonya was safe. And death was all but assured. He didn’t know where the hell he was and suspected he was bleeding to death. First things first, he had to get away from the scene. For one thing, the blood was bound to attract all manner of wild life, and for another, he wasn’t altogether positive that the Rooster had been bluffing about back up. Checking the direction of the sun streaming through the forest canopy Nate headed north as fast as he could.

  * * * * *

  Nate lay curled up in the crotch of a tree. The early morning sunlight shimmered through the leaves turning the forest into an Impressionistic landscape. He’d walked as far as he could the previous day before seeking sanctuary beneath the branches of the low-hanging tree. Unfortunately, his condition limited his ability to appreciate the scenery. He listened to the footsteps that had followed him into the shallow cove. Whoever was following him was good -- betrayed only by the occasional snapped twig. He knew they’d find him and there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t quite get his sluggish mind around exactly who they were, but he knew he was a dead man. As disturbing as that thought was, it didn’t disrupt the lassitude of his limbs or his foggy thinking. Then the footsteps stopped and he looked down at the top of a familiar dreadlocked head.

  Deringer peered up at him from the ground. “You look like hell, old man. Of course, you always look like hell, so who could tell the difference?” he said.

  “You should see the other guy.” Nate laughed, but it quickly turned into a cough. He knew he had at least one broken rib and if the pain and breathlessness he was experiencing were anything to go by that rib had punctured his lung or maybe the bullet had. Grabbing one of the branches with his left hand, he raised himself to a seated position. Now that Deringer was here he would have to get moving again no matter how badly it hurt.

  Deringer looked around the clearing under the tree. “Speaking of the other guy, where is the Rooster?”

  “He’s dead. They’re all dead. What are you doing here? Where’s my Onion?”

  “Still kicking ass and taking names. That woman is five miles of bad road.”

  “But you were supposed to -- ” Nate began.

  “I know what I was supposed to do, but she threatened to come after you herself if I didn’t come for you. Do you really want her down here?”

  Nate started to laugh, but the pain cut that off quickly. “That’s my girl.”

  “Look, she’s got good people watching her.”

  Nate opened his mouth to speak but a coughing fit halted his words. He wrapped his arms around his torso during the spate, trying to keep his ribs in place. He felt things moving around and knew that shouldn’t be happening.

  “I hate to do this old man, but I’ve got to wrap those ribs before one goes through your lung.”

  “I think it already has,” Nate gasped. “It’s damnably hard to breathe. You got a fentanyl lollipop in there?” Nate asked gesturing toward the other man’s backpack.

  “Yeah,” Deringer said, pulling the anesthetic out of his backpack. He handed it to Nate.

  Nate unwrapped the package, and in a practiced movement began s
wabbing the inside of his mouth with the cherry-flavored painkiller. His rib hurt like crazy and wrapping it would be agonizing, but he knew Deringer was right. They waited a few minutes for the drug to take effect then Deringer helped him climb down from the tree -- an activity that hurt considerably more than climbing up had. Once he was back on the ground they waited long enough for Nate to get his bearings then Deringer pushed Nate’s shirt up so he could get to his ribs. Nate looked down at the bullet wound, which he’d hurriedly bandaged the night before. The skin over the ribs on his right side were various shades ranging from black to cobalt, but he’d stopped bleeding. He knew the bullet had passed through as he had struggled to get a bandage on the hole in his back. Deringer checked both wounds, adding more bandages to both before he began winding an Ace bandage around Nate’s torso. Even with the fentanyl onboard the process was painful but mercifully quick. Having the ribs wrapped made breathing somewhat easier and Nate sighed in relief when his friend was done.

  Deringer secured the bandages as tightly as possible. “I’m no doctor, but that should help the situation. Now you need to shut up and let me get you the hell out of here. I’m pretty sure that Tonya is in much better shape at the moment than you are.”

  Nate started to argue, but it took too much effort, so he focused on breathing instead. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

  Getting out of Brazil was easier said than done. Deringer had sneaked into the country as a tourist with a forged passport. Once he was in country and realized that Nate’s GPS system had probably been confiscated Deringer had feared that finding him would be impossible. Fortunately, due to their contacts in the area, finding the shell of the house wasn’t that difficult and from there it was only a matter of using his knowledge of Nate’s methods to figure out where he would go. He’d planned to sneak Nate out the way he’d come in, but now having seen his friend he knew nobody would ever believe the sunburned half-dead man needed to be anywhere but the nearest hospital. There was nothing for it; he’d have to contact the Department. A simple extraction shouldn’t be too risky, especially as he knew their exact coordinates. It should be reasonably safe with the Rooster dead. He studied Nate closely as the other man leaned against the tree. He wasn’t altogether certain he could survive the trip. He knew one way to find out.

  “Nate, sing the Alabama fight song,” he said.

  Nate gave him a look of disbelief. “I’m not dead am I? Nothing else could keep me from singing the song. Yay Alabama! Drown ‘em Tide!” He sang it all the way through and even managing a rousing Roll Tide, Roll! at the end. Or it would have been inspiring had he not collapsed into another coughing fit.

  Deringer watched in concern as a speck of foamy blood appeared on Nate’s ghostly lips. The two warriors were experienced enough to recognize aspirated blood when they saw it. There was a bleed in his lung. Despite his unease he knew they really didn’t have any alternatives.

  He pulled the satellite phone out of a pocket in his backpack. Before he could call out though, Nate, who he’d thought was unconscious, spoke up.

  “Dare?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve got to get back to Maple Fork. To Tonya,” Nate said, his voice so soft Deringer had to strain to hear him.

  “Yeah, eventually, but right now you’re going to the hospital.” Deringer wasn’t really that focused on what Nate was saying. He was far more concerned about the logistics of the extraction operation.

  “No. Now. The cutters can come to me at Tonya’s. I’m dying and if I die in a Department hospital they’ll dispose of my body and deny I ever existed. Tonya will never know what happened to me. I did that to her once, I can’t do it again.”

  “Not going to happen. For one thing man, you’re not dying, but if you do I can always tell her.”

  Nate collapsed into another spate of coughing. Deringer lay him down on the leaf-padded ground so he could catch his breath. “Don’t argue with me,” Nate gasped. “Promise. Maple Fork, nowhere else.” Despite the hollow quality of his voice, there was a firmness there that Deringer knew well. Nothing short of another bullet was going to change Nate’s mind and Deringer wasn’t altogether firm in his resolve to avoid the little town. He couldn’t ignore the little leap in the region of his heart when he thought about Maple Fork. Roshonda.

  Deringer looked down at his frantic friend. He did look as though he’d die at any moment. He was gray under his customary tan, and his lips had a bluish tinge. Nate stared back at him with eyes that were bright and feverish looking.

  “Okay, Maple Fork it is. Now can I call somebody to get us the hell out of here before we become a jaguar’s supper?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Tonya lay sprawled on the rug in her living room as Callie’s twins climbed all over her like something from Gulliver’s Travels. Nothing could lift her spirits like these little darlings and she really appreciated Callie making the effort to bring them over. She looked at her friend who was half sitting, half lying on the huge sofa trying to get some much-needed rest. Callie wasn’t due for another month, but frankly she looked ready to pop at any moment. Tonya had a feeling Callie would welcome labor as these last few weeks had been especially hard on her. Tonya tickled Rory’s round belly, as Brodie climbed on her back to rescue his sister. Both children screamed at the top of their lungs as they played with their favorite “aunt.” She’d just picked Brodie up to play airplane much to his ear-splitting delight when one of her security detail rushed into the room.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, instinctively placing herself between the children and the deadly man. Callie sat up with a gasp and they both stared at him in consternation. Everything had been perfectly quiet since Deringer left, but she was constantly aware of what could happen. She suddenly regretted letting Callie bring the babies over. What had she been thinking?

  “Some strange men have approached your apartment. The other guys are checking them out, but we have to make sure you’re secure.”

  Strange men? “Who are they?” Tonya asked.

  “That’s what we’re trying to assess right now, ma’am. Now if you’ll just come with us -- ”

  At that moment another man rushed up to the first man. He whispered hurriedly into his ear. The first man frowned, then looked at her. “Ma’am do you know anyone named Nate?”

  “Ohmigod, Nate!” Tonya screamed. She quickly handed Brodie to Callie, then followed the men out of her apartment.

  “Nate,” she gasped, pausing on the landing. He and Deringer stood at the foot of the stairs, or at least Deringer was standing. Nate leaned against the other man; so pale Tonya feared he’d lose consciousness before she could get to him. She ran down the stairs, reaching for him the moment she got to the bottom.

  “Be careful,” Deringer said.

  “What’s wrong with him?” she asked.

  Deringer looked at the three security guards who were standing behind her.

  When he didn’t answer Tonya followed his gaze and understood his concern. “They’re okay. Bryan’s agent vetted them, they’re from Hollywood and used to keeping secrets.” Deringer just stared at them and they gradually backed up until they were as far away as possible in the small foyer.

  Deringer nodded. “He’s been shot,” he said in a soft tone that wouldn’t carry.

  “What?” she said gingerly embracing Nate. “Why didn’t you take him to the hospital?”

  “Because he wouldn’t go. Said he had to see you first.”

  “Of all the idiotic...” She touched Nate’s forehead. “He’s feverish, he’s probably not in his right mind. Why didn’t you take him anyway? It’s not like you don’t have the means,” she said giving him a pointed glare.

  “Yeah, but he would’ve killed me when he woke up.”

  “Like I wouldn’t?”

  “I’m sure you would, but he’s got more experience with that type of thing,” Deringer said.

  “Are y’all going to argue all night while I die right here?” Nat
e asked. He was so breathless it was difficult to understand him.

  “Of course not. You’ve got to go to the hospital,” she said.

  “No. Too many questions,” Nate whispered.

  “We’ve got somebody on the way. If we can just get him upstairs I think he can be taken care of here,” Deringer said.

  Tonya frowned, “But a bullet wound...”

  “It went through,” Nate said. “I’ve been shot before; these guys can take care of it.”

  Tonya frowned. She’d seen the scars on his body from previous injuries, so she knew he knew what he was talking about. Still the idea of having such a serious wound treated in her house... “Are you sure?”

  “It’s the only way to keep him safe,” Deringer said.

  That clinched it for her. Apparently they hadn’t managed to kill the Rooster and Nate was still in danger. “Okay, come on up.”