by Susan Lewis
The man turned and hurried out of the room. Michael heard him running across the garage, then his muffled tread on gravel. He waited, his lungs pumping so hard he could barely keep up. Robbie was hanging on to him. He was here and alive. But where the hell was Cavan?
He looked at the others and realized they were still holding their guns. ‘Drop your weapons,’ he ordered.
No one moved.
‘I said drop them,’ he yelled in panic.
Six guns clattered to the floor.
They waited in silence until Rita came in with Cardoza. Michael looked over at her, then gaped in horror, for the gun was on her, rather than the other way round.
‘OK, let him go,’ Cardoza barked, holding Rita by the hair and pressing her so hard with the gun that her head was forced to one side.
Michael stared at him.
‘Did you hear what I said?’ Cardoza shouted. ‘Let him go or the lady here gets it.’
‘You shoot her, I shoot him,’ Michael responded, hardly able to believe what he was saying.
‘You got to the count of three,’ Cardoza warned, and from the way the others reacted Michael guessed this was some kind of signal. ‘One,’ Cardoza began.
Michael was confounded. He couldn’t make himself think. Didn’t know what to do. If he let Pastillano go they’d take Robbie, but how was he going to stand there and let them shoot Rita?
‘Two.’
Michael stared at him and suddenly his eyes grew so wide that Cardoza started to look uneasy.
‘Two,’ he repeated forcefully.
‘Three,’ Carmelo Ferrante finished, as he stepped silently up behind Cardoza and planted the barrel of his gun in Cardoza’s ear. ‘Drop it, buster,’ he said mildly.
As Cardoza’s gun hit the floor, Michael continued to stare at Ferrante, still unable to believe his eyes. The timing was so unbelievable he just couldn’t get a grip on it.
Then suddenly he was aware of some kind of commotion outside. Voices were shouting, guns were firing, men were running. All hell was about to break loose. Ferrante swung round, surprised; at the same instant Cardoza sprang for his gun. Rita kneed Cardoza in the face, then hit the ground herself as the first of Marcelo’s gang burst into the room, guns blazing.
Without thinking, Michael shoved Pastillano into his men, scooped up Robbie and bolted for the adjoining room. Behind them bedlam broke out as gunfire echoed around the stone walls and injured men yelled out in fury and pain.
Robbie was clinging hard to his father, the tape still stuck to his mouth. Michael carried on running, moving from one stone room to the next, tripping over instruments of torture and trying not to gag on the smell. At last he reached the other garage and began fumbling frantically around the walls for some kind of mechanism to release the door. He didn’t realize he was still holding the gun until someone came up behind him and spinning round, he almost fired. Rita banged the gun from his fist, then picked it up and handed it back.
‘Carmelo’s gone out the other way,’ she told him, as they continued to search the walls. ‘Here,’ she cried, hitting a button, and the garage door started to open. ‘Get back,’ she hissed as Michael made to duck under.
Michael jerked back against the wall, waited for her to check the way, then followed her out.
‘Make a run for the car,’ she ordered.
‘What about Cavan? We’ve got to find Cavan.’
‘They’ve got him,’ Rita said, dragging him behind a tree as someone ran out of the other garage into the clearing.
‘Who?’
‘Tom and Carmelo. They went in the back way. Now, make a run for the car.’
Grasping Robbie hard, Michael raced across the clearing and dived into the front passenger seat, just as Ferrante leapt in the driver’s side.
‘Where’s Rita?’ Ferrante demanded.
‘Right here,’ she answered, jumping in the back.
‘Christ, there’s Cavan,’ Michael hissed, and passing Robbie to Ferrante, he dashed around the car to where Chambers was half-walking, half-carrying Cavan towards the car.
‘We’ve got to get him to a hospital,’ Chambers said, as Michael took Cavan’s other arm.
‘I’m OK,’ Cavan croaked. ‘Just get us the hell out of here.’ Ferrante spun the car round and accelerated fast back up the track. ‘They must have figured out we were planning on going without them,’ he said, glancing in the rear-view mirror at Tom.
‘Are you kidding? They had to have been right on our tails to have got here so fast,’ Chambers responded.
‘Who?’ Cavan mumbled.
‘Marcelo and his gang,’ Chambers answered.
‘They’re gonna be mad,’ Ferrante warned as the car leapt over a bump in the road.
Chambers winced with Cavan. ‘If any of them lives through it,’ he said.
‘It wouldn’t be wise to take any chances,’ Ferrante told him. ‘If I were you I’d be on the next plane out of here.’
‘This boy needs a doctor,’ Chambers reminded him.
Michael twisted round in his seat and gripped Cavan’s hand. ‘You’re going to be OK,’ he said firmly. ‘We’re going to get you some help just as fast as we can.’
‘Michelle,’ Cavan murmured. ‘Did they …’
‘She’s OK,’ Michael told him. ‘They released her this afternoon,’ then turning back again his looked down into Robbie’s big, staring eyes.
Making an attempt to wrest himself from the adrenalin pounding through his veins, he smiled and smoothed the boy’s thick, dark hair. Carefully starting to peel the tape from his mouth, he tried to make himself grasp that this truly was his son, but right now nothing seemed real – except perhaps the tightness in his throat and painful sting in his eyes. Then he grabbed for the dash as the car jack-knifed out on to the main road.
When the tape was off Robbie turned his face sharply into his father’s shoulder. Michael hugged him hard and felt new and overpowering emotions flow copiously into his heart.
It was just after midnight when Michelle heard the outside bell ringing. Riddled with nerves as she was, she had to force herself to pick up the entryphone. The instant she heard Michael’s voice she dropped the phone and raced across the courtyard to open the door. What she saw at first confused her, for there were people with him she didn’t recognize and everyone seemed to be talking at once. Then, seeing a sleeping Robbie in Michael’s arms, she cried out and stumbled forward to take him.
‘Oh my God, my God,’ she breathed, cradling him to her as he murmured drowsily. ‘Where did you find him? How did you …?’
‘Michelle, please tell this man here who we are,’ Michael interrupted.
Michelle looked up and recognized the man he was referring to as the one assigned to watch over her. The other two people she didn’t know.
‘This is my son,’ she told the man. ‘And this is his father. And these people here …’ She looked helplessly at Michael.
‘Are friends,’ Michael supplied. ‘Carmelo and Rita Ferrante. You can check them out with the US Embassy. Now, can we go inside?’
‘It’s been a busy night,’ Rita said, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘We’re going to head off home.’
Michael turned to look at her, then, hugging her he said, ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’
‘You just did,’ she told him and smiled at Michelle’s bemusement.
‘Will I see you again?’ he asked, shaking hands with Carmelo.
‘Could be,’ Carmelo grinned, ‘if you’re unlucky.’
Michael smiled and looking up at the sky he said, ‘I don’t know that any of this has really sunk in. I mean, it’s probably no big deal for you, but for us …’
‘Believe me, it’s a big deal,’ Carmelo told him, ‘and you’re probably going to have some kind of delayed reaction, so prepare yourself and don’t be too hard on yourself either. Not many men could have done what you did tonight and don’t you forget it.’
‘Would somebody mind …’ Michelle bega
n.
Carmelo put up a hand. ‘Just give me a minute,’ he said and sliding an arm about Michael’s shoulders he walked him a few paces down the street. ‘I don’t want you to worry about this unduly,’ he said quietly, ‘but keep in mind that if Marcelo and his gang get out of there tonight there’s every chance they’re going to come looking for me and Tom. It could be their search will lead them here, so be on the look-out and call me if you need to. You’ve got my number?’
Michael nodded.
‘Just get on a plane out of here as soon as you can,’ Carmelo advised, as they turned back towards the apartment. ‘They’ll probably only keep Cavan in overnight, but if they want him any longer, leave him with Tom and get your boy home where he belongs.’ They looked up to find Rita, Michelle and the British security agent all watching them. ‘OK, Rita?’ Carmelo said. ‘Ready to hit the road?’
‘I’ll drive,’ she said, catching the keys as he threw them in the air.
‘I don’t understand,’ Michelle said as the Ferrantes got into the car and drove away. ‘Who are they? What’s been going on?’
Michael looked down at her pale, anxious face and Robbie’s peacefully sleeping one, and felt suddenly so tired that all he wanted was to lie down with them and hold them for ever. But that wasn’t going to happen, so slipping an arm around her he said, ‘They’re ex-federal agents who helped Tom and me get Cavan and Robbie back from Pastillano tonight.’
Michelle’s eyes widened with horror and confusion. ‘You mean …? Are you telling me Robbie …?’
‘He’s OK,’ Michael assured her. ‘Come on, let’s go inside.’
‘But how did they get him?’ Michelle cried, as he closed the door behind them. ‘I thought he was safe. You told me …’
‘When I spoke to you he was,’ Michael cut in. ‘But somehow Pastillano found out about him and managed to snatch him this afternoon. But we’ve got him back now and I’ve just had him checked over at the hospital and he’s fine. Nothing happened to him, at least nothing physical. Cavan they’re keeping for a while.’
‘But how did they get Robbie?’ she shouted. ‘How? He was supposed …’
‘I don’t know how they got him,’ Michael answered through his teeth.
‘But …’
‘Michelle, he’s here, he’s in one piece, now don’t force me to say things we’re both going to end up regretting.’
Her eyes flashed with fury. ‘I see,’ she seethed, ‘so it’s my fault, is it?’
‘You said it,’ he responded tightly, and taking Robbie from her, he carried him into the sitting-room and laid him down on the sofa.
Following him, Michelle went to sit on the floor beside her son and began stroking his hair. She took several moments to get herself back in control, then quietly said, ‘What happened to Cavan?’
Michael was standing at the window, his heart so bound up with emotion he barely heard her.
Michelle turned round. ‘What did they do to him?’ she said.
Keeping his back turned, Michael said, ‘He’s got a broken arm, a couple of cracked ribs and some internal injuries.’ He tensed as he thought of how Cavan had come by the injuries, but there was no need for Michelle to know about that – finding out Robbie had been taken was enough for her to deal with right now.
‘Which hospital is he in?’ she asked. ‘Can we go there? Will they let us see him?’
‘Tom Chambers is with him,’ Michael told her. ‘And no, we can’t go there, at least not tonight. But he’s going to be OK.’
Michelle turned back to Robbie. ‘We have to be out of the country by midday tomorrow,’ she said, gazing down at his sleep-flushed cheeks and thickly curling black lashes. He was such a perfect mix of her and Michael that it was sometimes hard to look at him and not feel the way she was feeling now – so full of love that it was binding her up in fear.
It was a while before she realized Michael hadn’t spoken, so turning she looked up to find him staring down at her and Robbie. Her heart somersaulted at the look in his eyes and for a moment she found she couldn’t speak either.
Becoming aware of the sudden intimacy, Michael started looking about the room.
‘They searched it,’ she said, explaining the mess. ‘I’ve been trying to put it back together.’
He nodded, looked at her briefly again, then went to sit in a torn armchair. ‘Do you have any Scotch?’ he asked.
‘If they didn’t smash it,’ she said, getting to her feet.
Going downstairs to the kitchen, she began searching for the bottle. She felt so nervous and afraid of what he was going to say that her movements were jerky and her own words, when she spoke, felt as though they were falling from her lips in random, broken sentences that had no meaning until they were said. She wished desperately she could make herself think of what she really wanted to say, but she was so shaken by the enormity of all that had happened, so overwhelmed by the shock of him being there and the feelings he had rekindled deep down inside her, that her mind just wouldn’t function.
Finding an undamaged bottle of brandy, she poured some into one of the children’s plastic cups and carried it back to the sitting-room. When she reached the doorway her heart rose to her throat as she saw Michael was asleep in the chair.
Setting the brandy aside, she went to sit with Robbie, pulling him on to her lap as he started to wake up. ‘Hello, sweetheart,’ she said softly, as his eyes flickered open.
He rubbed his face, then turned it into her shoulder.
She smiled and swallowing the lump in her throat, waited to see if he would settle. A minute or so later he turned his head back and looked across to Michael.
‘Do you know who that is?’ Michelle whispered.
His lovely blue eyes came back to hers.
She nodded slowly. ‘It’s your daddy,’ she said.
He looked at Michael again and Michelle’s smile was twisted by the effort to hold back her tears. ‘I told you he would come, didn’t I?’ she said.
Robbie continued to stare until finally, tired and still not too sure he was awake, he turned to Michelle and buried his face in her neck.
Hugging him to her, she rocked him gently back and forth until he had fallen asleep again. Then looking over at Michael she saw that his eyes were open.
‘There was only brandy,’ she told him. ‘I put it over there, on the window-sill.’
Wiping a hand over his face, he got to his feet and walked over to the window. The sea outside was like ink, streaked with moonlight. He stood looking at it for some time, lulled by the rhythmic lapping of the waves, then, picking up the brandy he took a generous mouthful and relished the burn as it stole a path through his chest. He could feel Michelle watching him, but didn’t turn round. This was hard, so damned hard he didn’t know where to begin, but he knew she was waiting and knew too that she was every bit as afraid as he was.
At last he turned to face her and watched as she laid Robbie down again, then came to stand beside him. He passed her the brandy, waited while she drank, then walking away from her he said, ‘I don’t think now’s the time to have this conversation. Too much has happened, we’re still too shaken up and it wouldn’t be fair to decide who’s going to have him while we’re feeling like this.’
Michelle’s eyes were holding fast to his and he could see, almost feel, her pain. ‘Is that how it’s going to be?’ she said softly. ‘One or other of us must have him? Not both?’
Unprepared for that, Michael looked away. He had no idea how he wanted to answer the question, so avoiding it he said, ‘He loves you, I’m aware of that. And he doesn’t know me.’
‘No,’ she responded. ‘But he needs you.’
Michael’s eyes came back to hers. ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said, ‘but I don’t want him living this kind of life.’
There was a long and painful silence before finally she said, ‘I think you should know, Cavan and I …’
Michael nodded. He hadn’t known it for certain, but he re
alized now that subconsciously he had guessed it. He wondered how he felt about it, but for the moment there was nothing. ‘Do you love him?’ he asked.
She took a moment to think, then said, ‘He’s not you.’
His surprise showed. ‘Did you think he would be?’ he said.
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. At first, yes, I suppose I did.’
‘And now?’
‘And now he’s Cavan.’
She could see how taut his face was and could feel her own tension building as she tried to force herself to voice what was really in her heart. ‘Robbie knows all about you,’ she said instead. ‘I show him pictures and tell him stories.’ She laughed drily. ‘He’s really going to think you’re his hero now, after this.’
Michael’s expression showed only a flicker of humour.
Her eyes fell away, then looking at him again she heard herself speaking the words she most dreaded saying. ‘Can I come back?’ she whispered, her heart suddenly thudding so hard it hurt. Then she wanted only to die as he looked at her and allowed a terrible silence to pass.
Slowly he started to shake his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he answered.
‘Would you be willing to try? For Robbie?’ she pleaded.
‘I think, before I answer that,’ he said, ‘we should decide whether it’s really for Robbie we’ll be trying, or whether it’s for ourselves.’
As his words registered in her heart her eyes began to shine with hope. ‘Either way,’ she said, ‘don’t you think it’s time we were together, as a family?’
He smiled wryly. ‘I always thought that,’ he reminded her. ‘It was only you who had other ideas.’
Chapter 28
AFTER READING EVERY last word of the article, Ellen put down the newspaper, picked up her coffee and walked on to her office. She was aware of the others watching her and wished now that she hadn’t humiliated herself like that, by stopping in full view of everyone to read the latest news on the man they all knew she was in love with.
He was back with Michelle now, they had returned to London and were living as a family in Michael’s Battersea apartment. According to the papers he was with the woman he had always loved, and the son they had created together and were now going to raise together. They had been turned into such a great love story, on both sides of the Atlantic, that it seemed the press just couldn’t get enough of them. Nor of Robbie, who was a handsome little boy, looked just like his father and seemed to enjoy all the attention they were receiving.