Double Danger

by Trilby Plants

  “Why did you do that, Hunter?” Frank’s voice was angry.

  “I hate guns,” Hunter said. “They’re so impersonal.”

  “Does your friend with the knife know what’s on the drive?” Nick turned to Frank.

  Frank remained silent.

  Nick answered himself. “Tens of millions in secret accounts in Switzerland and the Caymans. Enough for the two of you to disappear forever. Enough to fund a small country.” He turned to Hunter. “Oh. You had no idea it was so much.”

  “Hunter,” Frank said, “you will of course get a share.”

  “Let her go,” Nick said, “and I’ll give half of it to you.”

  Frank sighed. “Enough, Hunter. Let her go.”

  Hunter released his grip slightly. “You go to your boyfriend, pretty woman. And remember, if anything goes wrong here, I’ll kill you, no matter how far you run.”

  He pushed her forward into Nick’s arms. Alyssa marveled that she no longer felt the fluttery fingers of helpless panic clawing at her throat. Nick released her and stepped toward Frank.

  Frank held up a hand. “Not so fast, Nick. Hunter, make certain he has no other surprises for us. Perhaps he’d wired and someone is listening to this.”

  Hunter went to Nick and expertly slid his hands over his body. “No wire, no weapons, no drive,” he said. He moved behind Nick, grasped his neck in a loose chokehold, the knife pointed toward Nick’s jugular.

  No defense, thought Alyssa.

  “Get the drive, Alyssa,” Nick said softly.

  Confusion filled her mind. “I don’t know where ‒ ”

  “It’s inside the rip in the back of the driver’s seat,” Nick said. “Do what they want, Alyssa. Just get it.” Resigned, she trudged toward the van.

  “You know,” Nick said, “once you have the drive, you could let us go. We don’t want the money.”

  Alyssa hesitated. Once they had the flash drive she and Nick were no longer useful.

  “Get the drive,” Nick repeated.

  She leaned into the open window and reached behind the seat, into the torn place in the vinyl. Her fingers closed on the cold metal barrel of a gun. She reached further. The grip. She ran her fingertips over the monogram in the ivory. Uncle Henry’s gun. Nick hadn’t thrown it in the river. Tucked next to it was a flash drive.

  Frank’s voice: “Well, Nick, I can’t just let you and the woman go. It has nothing to do with greed, you understand. There’s plenty of money in those accounts, certainly enough to arm a small army and keep me in an appropriate lifestyle, even with my friend’s fee. But Hunter gets itchy. After losing you that time at your house, he figures he has a score left to settle ‒ ”

  “Hunter?” Nick’s voice was tight.

  “Finally figured it out, did you?” Frank said.

  “You should have fried with the house,” Hunter said. “But somehow you got out, and then you asked for protection.”

  Frank moved forward, his face a mask of anger. “You needn’t say more, Hunter. I think Nick gets it now.”

  Alyssa strained to see Nick’s expression, but standing directly in front of the other vehicle’s parking lights, he was only a silhouette.

  “It was you that night in my house.” Nick said.

  Hunter still held the knife at Nick’s throat. “You passed out before you could tell me where the flash drive was.” Hunter shrugged. “Since you wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to know, I figured you’d lost enough blood that the smoke would get you. Ah, the woman, Nick. She was fine ‒”

  “You bastard,” Nick said, venom in his voice. “You left my wife to die.”

  “Oh, no,” Hunter said. “She was quite dead when I finished with her. I watched her eyes until the end.”

  His wife. Alyssa quailed.

  The gun, Lyssa …. Her uncle’s voice was a faint echo from the past.

  Alyssa gripped the .38 and pulled it and the flash drive from their hiding place. There was a round in every chamber of the cylinder. Finger on the trigger, she lowered the gun to her side and walked toward the three men.

  She could see the men’s faces: Nick’s barely controlled anger, Frank’s dark eyes and Hunter’s cruel smirk. The ivory grip felt cold. The old nightmare was happening all over. Only this time she could change the outcome.

  Nick turned to Frank. “How could you?”

  Anger sparked in Frank’s eyes. “Do you know how long it took to set up operation Big Bad Wolf? I came to this country when I was thirteen to be raised by people I didn’t know. I gave up everything to live in America. I learned about computers. The NSA recruited me. They came to me because I knew how to set up systems. It took me thirty years to gather information and put together a plan. And all the time I had to pass on enough intel to keep my people happy. When I had the accounts on that drive, I didn’t need anybody anymore.”

  He paused, licked his lips. “Islam has a score to settle with the United States. Al Qaeda needs money to fund its Jihad. ISIS needs arms. I would have been a hero to my people. Then the files disappeared. The first two pigs were easy to take out. But you, Nick, you were more difficult. You were smarter. And you never forgot what you had learned.”

  “I wanted to stay alive.” Nick’s voice was soft. “I didn’t want to be responsible for anybody else’s death. That’s why I quit.”

  “And then your flight was cancelled because of the weather,” Frank said, “and you couldn’t leave till the next morning. So instead of leaving, you came home that night. Your wife’s death was supposed to be a message. You weren’t supposed to be there.”

  Nick shook his head. Hunter moved the knife closer. Nick went still. A thin line of blood appeared on his throat and trickled down. He didn’t flinch.

  “I didn’t connect you with that night until you asked for the drive,” Nick said. “Only Wolf would know what was involved here. It was you. You put out the hit. You ‒ Big Bad Wolf. You had my wife killed for no reason at all.” He breathed raggedly, fists clenched in futile anger. “I never knew what was on that drive. I didn’t think it mattered any more. You could have just left me dead.”

  Alyssa finally understood. There was no way out of this. Frank and Hunter would never let them go.

  At that instant Bella leapt from the open window of the van, streaked to Nick and rubbed against his legs.

  Hunter took half-step backwards. “What the hell?”

  “Don’t hurt her,” Alyssa said. “She’s only a cat.”

  Get the gun, Lyssa ….

  She looked around. Who had spoken?

  … the gun, Lyssa ....

  She was twelve years old and in her aunt and uncle’s shop. There was an intruder outside the door. Someone who would hurt Uncle Henry.

  Alyssa blinked, and she was in a cemetery. She saw clearly now. She couldn’t change the past, but she could do something about the present. She weighed the gun in her hand. The drive with the oh-so-important information fell unnoticed from her fingers. Slowly, she raised the weapon. Held it steady, her right hand cradled in her left hand as Uncle Henry had taught her. Sighted with both eyes open. Focused on the man who held a knife to Nick’s throat. Aimed. Drew a deep breath, forcing her muscles to relax. Her hands were steady.

  “Move away, Hunter,” she said. She was surprised at how calm her voice sounded.

  Hunter looked at her with a quizzical expression. Frank raised one hand.

  “Don’t be foolish, Alyssa,” Frank said. “Nick will be dead before you get off a shot.”

  He was right. Her aim moved slightly. “I’m not aiming at him. I’m aiming at you. And my uncle taught me how to use this. I was a good shot. If he even moves, I’ll shoot you. Tell him to back off.”

  Nick’s hand was moving. Alyssa saw it without taking her gaze from Frank. Couldn’t he be still? He was tapping his chest, a subtle motion that Hunter, standing behind him, couldn’t see. It was a signal. Nick was telling her to aim at Hunter. Men like Hunter thought nothing of another’s life. He would not back o
ff because of the threat to his boss. If she shot at Hunter, she could hit Nick.

  Smiling, Frank said to Hunter, “Kill him.”

  Hunter hesitated, glittering death poised at Nick’s throat. There was cold, remorseless hatred in Hunter’s eyes. He laughed. “If she shoots you, Frank,” Hunter said, “I don’t get my money. You’re the one with the password.”

  Frank swallowed convulsively. “Don’t be a fool, Hunter.”

  “Let him go.” Alyssa tried to put ice into her voice. She channeled her anger and concentrated, swinging the gun to bear on Hunter. Focus on the target. Squeeze the trigger. “I mean it,” she said. “Let him go or I’ll shoot.”

  Hunter’s knife hand pulled away a fraction of an inch from Nick’s throat. “All right,” he said. “Don’t shoot.”

  In the instant Hunter moved, a hundred fragmented thoughts tumbled through Alyssa’s mind. One was clear: she knew he would throw the knife at her, and she had no doubt he had done it before with deadly results. He stepped back slightly. Bella wound herself between his legs. He stumbled over the cat, and she sank her claws into the back of his calf. Hunter gave his leg a vicious shake, and Bella sailed into the bushes with a yowl. The knife remained steady in his hand.

  Nick still tapped his chest. Did he mean for her to shoot him? And then she remembered the paper bag he’d taken into the tent earlier and brought out empty. The bulletproof vest he got from Will.

  She aimed at the middle of Nick’s chest and squeezed the trigger. The gun went off twice in rapid succession, the reports ripping the night apart. Nick staggered backward as if hit by a truck, plowed into Hunter, and both men went down, Nick partly on top of the other man. Even in the dim light blood was visible on Hunter’s face and shoulder and on Nick’s face and neck.

  “Police,” a deep voice boomed. “Nobody move. You with the gun, drop it.”

  Alyssa was frozen, her hands locked around the revolver.

  “Drop the weapon. Drop it. Raise your hands.”

  She couldn’t move. Then she felt her arms gently pushed down until the gun pointed at the ground. “It’s over Alyssa, all over,” Will said. “Just loosen your fingers.”

  He pried her fingers from the weapon, and it disappeared. Her knees gave way, and she sagged against him. Gently, Will eased her down to the ground and raced to where Nick and Hunter lay unmoving. A crowd of police officers surrounded Alyssa, mercifully cutting off the image of Nick, covered with blood, his face unrecognizable.

  Someone yelled, “Hands on your head ‒ fast.” Alyssa thought they meant her. She locked her fingers on top of her head. Someone pulled her hands down. She looked up at two firefighters. They helped her stand.

  Will knelt on the ground next to Nick’s still form.

  “Uncle Henry,” Alyssa said. “Uncle Henry, I couldn’t save you. I wanted to, but I couldn’t save you.” Then, “Nick, Nick, Nick.” A litany willing him to rise.

  Will gently rolled Nick off the other man. “He’s alive,” Will shouted.

  A trooper crouched over Hunter, put his fingers to the pulse in his neck. “So’s this one, but maybe not for long. He took a bullet in the neck.”

  A woman in a deputy’s uniform leaned over her and said, “I’m Lynn Dahlberg, Alyssa. Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  Alyssa shook her head, unable to take her eyes off Nick’s prone body.

  “There’s blood on your neck ‒ “

  “A scratch,” Alyssa said. It didn’t hurt at all.

  “I’ll go get the first aid kit.”

  “Really, I’m okay,” Alyssa said. “It’s Nick who needs help.”

  Time strobed for Alyssa. She missed things, gaps where her mind did not focus. Once there were headlights, another time flashing blues. An ambulance stopped behind the Suburban, near where Alyssa knelt on the ground.

  A blank, like a dark television screen. An image: rescue workers loaded Nick onto a gurney and rushed him to the ambulance. Several officers helped push and lift the gurney over obstacles.

  Alyssa tried to speak, tried to tell them not to take him away before she said good-bye, but her voice would not obey her.

  Images whirled around her like a kaleidoscope gone mad.

  The paramedics returned and loaded Hunter onto another gurney and took him to another ambulance. A state trooper got in the ambulance with Hunter, and a man whose vest identified him as a US Marshal got in with Nick. In moments, the two ambulances were backing down the road. They disappeared. Sirens wailed off into the distance.

  Frank was led away in handcuffs. Alyssa lost sight of him. The woman who had spoken to her before returned and wrapped a blanket around her. She took Alyssa’s hands and pressed them in place to hold the blanket. The deputy used an antiseptic cloth and wiped Alyssa’s face and neck, and then applied butterfly bandages to her neck. Then the deputy vanished in a haze of rushing images, none of which made sense to Alyssa.

  Time telescoped. Will stood over her. “You’re going to be fine,” he said.

  She would never be fine again. She had shot the man she loved, maybe killed him and hadn’t even said good-bye.

  “Lynn,” Will said to the deputy, “block off this whole area with crime scene tape, including the car over there. Don’t touch the laptop. The feds will want that.”

  “Sure thing, Sheriff,” Lynn said.

  Will pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and played the beam over the ground, then bent down and picked up the flash drive. He turned it over, shaking his head, then offered Alyssa his hand. He pulled her to her feet and headed her toward a large, black SUV.

  “Will,” someone called out. “I see you have everything under control.”

  “Agent McNabb,” Will said. “Glad you could make it.”

  McNabb, a tall, athletic man with graying hair, strode toward Alyssa and Will. He was flanked by two men carrying weapons. One man’s vest was emblazoned in block letters: U.S. Marshal, and the other’s vest with FBI. Alyssa focused on the emblem on the Marshal’s vest: a star in a circle. The white symbol grew until it filled her vision. A shooting star ….

  “You know how the FBI works,” McNabb said. “It’s my turn now. Jurisdiction and all that.”

  “You’re welcome to it,” Will said. “My deputy, Lynn, will fill you in. Here’s the drive. The one in the laptop isn’t the right one.” He turned to Alyssa. “You were very brave.”

  “Is Nick all right?” Alyssa thought she would be sick. She willed herself to hold it back.

  Will shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. He was unconscious. He’s on his way to the hospital. There are several government entities waiting to interview him when he can talk. We’ll see.”

  “I shot him,” Alyssa said. She leaned against Will.

  Then the shaking started. Shivers quickly spread through her body. Will gathered her awkwardly into his arms.

  “It’s all over, Alyssa,” he said, holding her. “It’s all over. You did the right thing. You know that, don’t you?” She nodded, but the shivers continued. Her teeth chattered, despite the warm blanket and the safety of Will’s arms.

  Will didn’t let go of her until McNabb had escorted Frank into the backseat of a patrol car. Then Will helped Alyssa sit down in the passenger seat of the black SUV. She leaned forward, arms on her knees. Bile rose in her throat.

  “Alyssa, you all right?” Will said.

  She shook her head. Nothing would ever be all right again. She had lost the man she loved, and it was her fault. Her hand had fired the gun. She would never forgive herself.

  Will put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen,” he said, “if you’re going to puke, it’s okay. That’s the adrenaline.”

  Alyssa swallowed. This time she would not let fear get the better of her. She was alive. And she had to believe Nick was alive. She took a deep breath.

  “I’m all right,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

  She straightened and her lap was filled with a warm, furry feline body. Bella.


  “I found her hiding under a bush,” Lynn said. “She was glad to see me. Actually came when I called. She’s favoring her right front paw, so you may want to take her to a vet in case something’s broken. Other than that, she seems to be fine.”

  Will leaned close. “I have a vet friend who’ll see you when we get back to town. I’ll call her.”

  Tears spilled down Alyssa’s cheeks. She hugged Bella, drawing comfort from her rumbling purr.

  Alyssa looked up at Will. “She saved our lives. That awful man almost tripped over her. If that hadn’t happened, we might have … Nick ….”

  Will squatted in front of her. “Alyssa, you did what you had to do. Anybody would have done the same in the circumstances. There will be no blame for the shooting.”

  She nodded. She wanted Nick to be there to hold her like she held Bella, close to his heart, but he was in an ambulance somewhere, and she didn’t know if he was alive or …. She could not think about the alternative.

  “We need to talk, Alyssa,” Will said.

  He pulled her gently to her feet. She clutched the blanket around her shoulders and hugged Bella, careful not to squeeze her injured leg. The cat seemed content to be held and tried to lick her paw. Using his flashlight to light the way, Will guided her to one of the grave markers, a tall granite monument with an angel on top. The angel looked down, her wings folded and her arms spread as if to embrace those who visited the grave.

  “This was his only lie, Alyssa,” Will said. “And it was only by omission. I don’t think he deliberately lied to you about anything else.”

  She looked where he pointed. The inscription on the stone said Nickels in large block letters. On one side was engraved: “Caroline Jensen, Beloved Wife” and on the other: “Travis Phillip, Beloved Husband.” The dates were the same day almost three years ago.

  “That was him.” Will whispered. “In another lifetime.”

  Alyssa stared at the words. Wife. Husband. She could not speak.

  “He loved her, Alyssa, as any man loves the woman he marries. They were college sweethearts. That life ended the night of the fire. Travis Nickels died. But inside I believe he’s still the same kind of man. A good man, Alyssa. He loves you, and I know you love him. So you have to go on. You were his second chance, and he gave it to you.”