Final Stand

by Helen R. Myers

  “No doubt about it.”

  “What went—Oh. He didn’t? He cheated on her?”

  Gray nodded. “We’d enlisted in the service, and he proposed. At their engagement party I caught him going at it hot and heavy with a girl out in the parking lot. The girl he fixed me up with, no less. I only went out there to save Maureen embarrassment. She knew something was wrong and was willing to handle things herself. Anyway, that was it for me as far as my friendship with Frank was concerned.”

  “I wonder…” Sasha murmured. “Do you suppose he wanted out of the engagement? Sometimes people get themselves into situations only to regret their impulsiveness. Lacking the courage to face things directly, they force the other party to do the dirty work. It allows them to conveniently be victims and say, ‘I told you so.’”

  “Well, Maureen didn’t mind confronting him. She broke his nose.” Gray managed a brief, tired smile. “He forgave her, but he’s been on my case ever since.”

  “Ah.” Sasha nodded, and for an instant recollection animated her face. “I heard the mocking ‘Saint Gray.’ It never crossed his mind that you turned him in because of his betrayal. He thinks you wanted Maureen all along.”

  “His competitive streak really went into overdrive when we showed up for basic training.”

  “Marines, I take it? Did you leave your drill instructor with anything to do?”

  Once again Gray appreciated her ability to catch up, as well as her wit in such a difficult time. “Not much. And we didn’t make life easy for the rest of the guys, either. But the worst was how pissed Frank became when I was picked for special training and he wasn’t.”

  Sasha stopped nodding. “Define ‘special.’”

  There was no way he was going to dump that experience on her tonight. He shorthanded his explanation to a dismissive shrug and muttered, “Covert Ops.”

  If Sasha was disappointed at his intentional withholding, she was too considerate to pursue it. She only said, “So that’s where you learned those slick moves. And it explains Elias’s remark about training.”

  Her ability to gauge words in and out of context warned Gray to choose his more carefully. “There was plenty of that. It just wasn’t my idea of how I wanted to spend the next twenty years, if I could survive that long. So as soon as my enlistment was up, I took my discharge and came back here.”

  “To become a vet like your father.”

  “Square, huh?”

  “Compared to what? I know how I’ve been sounding, but I love animals. The question is, do you? Really?”

  Working with animals had been a joy, despite the cases where you couldn’t help, or the ones that required you end an animal’s life out of kindness. It was the relentlessness of needs both human and animal that got to him. And to have to say goodbye to so many souls in too brief a time.

  “Maybe I’m not cut out for the work,” he said simply.

  “Bull. I watched you with Jessie. You gained her trust as fast as anyone could. And considering my first impressions of you—”

  “What were they?” his curiosity drove him to ask.

  This time the ghost of a smile touched her lips. “I thought you were something hatched at Stonehenge. For someone like you to win over a frightened dog like her, that took more than skill. You have a natural gift.”

  Gray wasn’t buying the compliment, but the comparison amused him. “When I first saw you, I thought J.M. had sent me a late birthday present.”

  She lifted both eyebrows. “Sorry to disappoint.”

  “You didn’t. I prefer who you are.”

  Sasha returned to stroking her mug. “I think you’re determined not to finish your story. At least tell me when you and Maureen realized you were in love and wanted to marry?”

  That was the most difficult to answer. The impulse—a stretch in definitions if there ever was one—crept up on them, as everything else had, yet nevertheless felt natural, like high tide, like mold on bread—cause and effect. “I had to get through school and she went through the police academy. In our free time we hung out together to lick our wounds over what a skunk Frank had been. As I said, we were friends.”

  “That sounds…comfortable.”

  “You mean unromantic.”

  “I mean solid. Nice.”

  She meant hardly passionate, and she was right. But at the time real friendship was what they seemed to need from each other. “Maureen was there for me when my father died and I became more aware of my own mortality.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “We lost her while I was overseas. A stupid slipup in prescriptions, a bad allergic reaction.”

  “How awful.”

  “Everyone encouraged my father to sue, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Something in him shut down, though. Not long after he passed, Maureen started staying here. Her folks and younger siblings had relocated to Arizona, and when Maureen mentioned something about finding a place in Sonora, I guess that motivated me into action.” He groaned. “God, did that sound as pitiful as I think it did?”

  Sasha said nothing.

  “Well, it seemed to work. As busy as we both were, we made the time together fun. It was like an affair more than a marriage, never talking shop or making plans except for the weekends. No wonder we became strangers instead of mates.”

  When he realized Sasha continued to hold her peace, Gray waved his hand, signaling he was through talking. “Forget it. I blew it. We blew it. It’s ancient history.”

  “That’s why I haven’t sought a deeper relationship,” she said, meeting his gaze directly. “I want what my parents had, or at least to feel that kind of passion once. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you.”

  Her calm, nonjudgmental tone allowed him to finish. “That last day we’d just had another squabble. How’s that for a sign? She’d go nose-to-nose with an umpire at a softball game, but we never really summoned the enthusiasm to fight for our marriage. After the call I knew it was over. Why drag things on until we lost all respect for each other?

  “Little did I know that she’d ended the call because some fool in a Corvette was driving through town like a bat out of hell. Speed—it was like a magnet to her. That’s where she and Frank had too much in common, speed and danger. Anyway, she lost control of her car and crashed.”

  Exhaling, Sasha leaned her head back against the wall and gazed up at the ceiling. “And you blamed yourself.”

  “No, I blamed myself for not letting her go sooner. For…oh, hell, what difference does it make now?”

  “It must. You’re still hurting.”

  “She lay in a coma for six months before she died, probably hanging on to tell me what a son of a bitch I was for asking her to be who she wasn’t.”

  “You’re not the one who made her chase him.”

  “No, I just collected on her benefits. You mentioned your father’s insurance policies? I received my share, too. I tried to give it to her folks, but they didn’t need it. So I sat here with all of this death wealth—my parents’, Maureen’s. Outside my door was Frank hating my guts and everybody else feeling sorry for me and wanting to fix the problem with food.”

  Sasha rose, set her mug on the coffee table and sat down on the arm of his chair. “What happened was sad and a terrible waste. Destroying yourself out of guilt would be a bigger one, Slaughter.”

  “I know. I’ve been seeing that every hour, every minute you’ve been here.” Gray took her left hand and pressed a kiss into her palm. “You’ve been one helluva lesson to me, Sasha Mills. You made me want again, more than I can remember wanting anyone or anything in my life.” Gray reached up with his other hand to stroke her cheek, then he slipped his hand behind her neck to her nape. “Sasha, I want to kiss you so badly it—”

  She pressed her finger to his lips. “Just do it.”

  But as he began to ease her across his lap, careful of her side and her other bruises, a burst of gunfire shattered the silence.

  34

&nbs
p; Thrust into total darkness and deafened by bullets, Sasha could only cling to Gray as he swept them to the carpet in an equal eruption of energy. The force knocked the breath out of her. The aftershock made her moan.

  “Christ, are you hit? Sasha!”

  “Winded.” But she moaned again as she worked free the gun digging into the small of her back.

  As soon as she could, she twisted around, angling for a view. Gray settled close behind her. Outside, tires squealed, followed by another burst of gunfire and an explosion of breaking glass, punctuated by a roaring engine as a vehicle drove away.

  Sasha slumped back onto the carpet and met Gray’s grim gaze.

  “Don’t say it,” he muttered. “You warned me.”

  Behind them, Jessie whimpered. Sasha saw her belly-crawl trying to reach them. Concerned that the dog would tear her stitches, she immediately rushed to her. “Stay put, baby. Jessie, come back here.” Keeping low in case the sounds outside had been deceiving and the vehicle hadn’t moved on, she urged the dog to return behind the couch.

  Mission accomplished, she called to Gray. “Is the coast clear?”

  “Yeah. Frank’s moving out into the street. At least I think it’s him.”

  “I have to give him backup.”

  “I’ll be yours.”

  Jessie protested her withdrawal, but Sasha could only give the dog a reassuring pat and command, “Stay,” before racing from the house with Gray lingering only to shut the door in case the dog decided they provided more comfort than bullets caused fear. Together they ran toward the lone dark silhouette in the street.

  “Elias?” Sasha called as they approached him.

  “I’m okay.”

  But his voice sounded strained, and once they were close enough to see for themselves, he looked as ill as Sasha had earlier. There was good reason. At his feet were two bodies, uniformed men with limbs askew from being thrown from the vehicle as it raced through town.

  And as terrible as that was, it wasn’t all. The town was in a complete blackout, which explained the explosions. Even without checking, she surmised the phones were no longer working, either.

  In the distance there were voices, shouts and hysterical cries, and at one house in the second block, she saw the beam of a flashlight at a second-story window. Hoping that the sound of a vehicle racing away really meant withdrawal, she backed to where Gray was checking on the fallen men.

  “It’s no use,” he said. “They’re dead.”

  And not all that recently. Sasha had seen immediately that they were already showing signs of rigor mortis, but she let that detail pass for the moment. They needed Elias coherent and effective, which might not happen if he was focused on how long those bastards had held the bodies before delivering them.

  She inspected his bloody face. “Were you hit?”

  Gaunt-faced, Elias wiped the stream of blood from his forehead. “Flying glass from inside the station, I guess. These men…they’re the guys I was expecting from Sonora.”

  “They had to have been ambushed outside of town,” Sasha replied. “That explains why there hasn’t been any help since the EMS people.”

  Assured by the prolonged silence, people began to emerge from different buildings and houses. They carried flashlights and old-fashioned lanterns, and more than a few had a shotgun or pistol in their other hand. Too many, as far as Sasha was concerned. Here it was the weekend, late…if people had been drinking, there could be some itchy trigger fingers in this bunch. All they needed was one odd sound, and serious accidents could occur. She kept one eye on them as they formed a cautious circle around the bodies. The women, curious when at a distance, either turned slightly away from the gruesome sight or pressed their faces against their husbands’ or boyfriends’ chests as they drew nearer. The men did their best to look stoic; however, Sasha suspected the majority would retreat willingly at the first command to clear the street.

  “Shot them in the back of the head,” someone whispered.

  “Executed ’em,” another corrected.

  “Who’s doing these horrible things?”

  The frail voice rang out like a prayer into the night, but the heavens remained silent as though they, too, were stunned at why twisted, angry men were bent on creating such terror.

  A stocky man clad in striped pajamas pushed to the front of the growing crowd. The way people willingly yielded to him had Sasha concluding he was the mayor or some other local official.

  “Frank, snap out of it, man. The phones are out, too. What are your instructions?”

  Out of respect for the position, if not the man, Sasha remained silent, giving Elias the opportunity to address the people he served. But Frank had all he could deal with twisting away from hands reaching for him as though he were some touchstone, while others waved tissues at him for his bloody forehead.

  “Get back, will you. Leave me alone.” Ducking out of the reach from one side of the circle, he ended up in the clutches of the other, and ultimately roared at Sasha, “Goddamn you, this is about you anyway. Say something!”

  Before she could reply, his car radio crackled with static. Then a smooth male voice asked in an accent, “Are you there?”

  “Borodin,” Sasha whispered.

  Both Gray and Frank glanced from her to the patrol car, but it was Frank who voiced their thoughts. “I thought he was in Vegas.”

  Yes, why wasn’t he? Sasha wondered. What could have compelled him to take such a risk and come here? He had to know that this deflected all guilt off her and ruined any chance he had of staying in Nevada, or the country for that matter. Maybe her DC had found something her mother left behind. Or could Gloria have had a change of heart?

  Whatever the answer, Borodin was here and had control of a police car radio. To understand what to do next, she had to know how he’d arrived. “Where’s the nearest airfield?”

  “What difference does that—well, it all depends,” Frank replied, yielding to her stern look. “There are private strips at ranches, municipal ones…uh, Sonora, I guess. There’s one in El Dorado, but that’s another dozen or so miles up the road.”

  “Which is long enough for a corporate jet?”

  “Sasha.”

  Borodin’s voice had taken on a familiar edge, and knowing time was running out she yelled, “Which one!”

  “I don’t know, I’m no stinking pilot!”

  “Sonora,” someone in the crowd replied. “But there’s no tower or anything.”

  “You don’t need one these days. The landing lights are probably radio-controlled,” Sasha replied, thinking out loud. “His pilot turns them on and off from the jet.” One good thing about that, though, there would be no attendant, either. That meant one less body.

  She started for the patrol car, her mind racing. They still had one form of communication left, but with Borodin being able to listen in on a police radio…

  Frank must have realized how many eyes were on them because, as Sasha opened the patrol car door, he rushed up and grabbed the handset from her. “This is Frank Elias,” he announced. “Chief of police.”

  “How very nice for you. But I want to speak to Sasha Mills if you don’t mind, Chief.”

  “Who?” Frank asked, chin jutting.

  Silence followed and stretched. Sasha shook her bowed head, knowing this was the wrong man to be playing for a fool.

  “You there?” Frank demanded.

  “Oh, very much so. And you’d be wise to understand how close. Don’t make this more difficult on yourself than it needs to be.”

  “How could it be worse?” Frank muttered under his breath. Into the handset he said, “What do you want?”

  “Cooperation. You’re cut off. We control both the east and west sides of your pitiful town. The men who just delivered my warning also took care of the electrical transformer and several telephone junction boxes. They’ll apply the same precautions on the other end of town.”

  Sure enough, several bursts of gunfire won gasps and shrieks fro
m the crowd. The cacophony was followed by another explosion and a few more shots. When it quieted again, another crackle sounded on the radio.

  “This is merely an inducement for you and your fellow townspeople to cooperate,” Borodin continued. “You have nothing to fear as long as you do as you’re told. Do I make myself clear?”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Finish my business. Tell everyone to return to their homes and stay there. If they comply, no harm will come to them. Try to use this radio to call for additional assistance and I give you my word you will pay a high premium, beginning with the most innocent.”

  There was a gasp from the crowd, and then a young woman cried, “They’re going to kill our babies!”

  Frank yelled, “Everybody shut up! I need to hear.”

  “Do I make myself clear, mister Chief of Police Frank Elias?”

  Frank swallowed. “Yeah.”

  “Excellent. Now let me speak to her.”

  He all but shoved the handset into Sasha’s hands.

  “My hero,” she muttered with a withering look. The thought that Maureen could ever have cared for this spineless wretch left her dumbfounded.

  She keyed the handset. “So?”

  “How delicious to hear your voice again, my spirited Sashitska.”

  Wanting badly to tell him she wasn’t his dear anything and where he could go, Sasha remained silent, aware that small annoyance would be the best she could achieve for the moment. She was also painfully aware of how many eyes were on her.

  “I see you’re in no mood for pleasantries. No doubt you remain heartsick over the loss of your mother.”

  Dizzy with hatred, she shut her eyes. The bastard. If it cost her everything, he would pay.

  The handset was pulled from her grasp. Opening her eyes, she saw Frank about to speak again.

  “Just tell us how long do we have?”

  Borodin’s laughter was soft. “To hide? My suggestion would be not to waste time. Goodbye, Chief. Do svidaniya, my Sasha.”

  As Frank dropped the handset onto the driver’s seat, Sasha felt a hand on her shoulder. About to shrug it off, she glanced back and saw Gray.