“Are you all right, Dad?”
“I will be, but I’m so thirsty.”
Emma looked up with pleading eyes at the six men who had abducted her. Their own eyes held only anger, hatred, and the dull look of stupidity. The young one with the large ears, the boy, was the exception. He wore a crooked smile and his eyes had a touch of compassion in them.
“You obviously don’t plan to feed us, but we need water, please?”
“I’ll bring you some water,” the boy said.
“Thank you,” Emma said.
One of the men made a dismissive gesture at Hart. “So much for the navy boxing champ.”
The others laughed, with the exception of the boy, and piled out of the room, which had bricked over windows and a metal door.
Two old and soiled mattresses were placed on the floor for beds, but had no sheets, pillows, or blankets. In a corner of the room was a bucket, which was the toilet. It had not been used much, because neither food nor water had been provided. Still, the room held the scent of urine.
Emma sat on the floor and had her father lie down and rest his head on her lap. After ripping off a piece of the hem of her dress, she dabbed at the cuts on his face.
“I’m so sorry that you have to go through this, honey,” Hart said.
“You’ve had it worse than me,” Emma said, although she feared that might not remain the case. She had glimpsed something else in the eyes of the men, lust. She feared that it was only a matter of time before one of them attempted to rape her.
The boy returned carrying two 1-litre bottles of water. After his entry, the door was locked again by whoever was guarding them.
Hart and Emma thanked the boy and began drinking with gusto. They had not had anything to drink in over a day. Hart drained his bottle, but Emma stopped herself from finishing hers so that she might dampen the rag she was using to clean her father’s face.
She went to work on his scrapes and cuts again, and the water cleansed the blood away.
The boy had stayed in the room to watch. He wore jeans and a T-shirt and appeared to have no weapon, however, something was making a bulge in his right pocket. With a smile he revealed what that something was.
“They said I couldn’t feed you, but I snuck this out of our supplies.”
The boy held up a protein bar and Emma felt saliva form in her mouth. She had never been as hungry as she was at that moment.
She reached out for it and the boy handed it to her. After ripping off the wrapper, Emma broke the bar in half and handed a piece to her father. The food disappeared in an instant.
The boy laughed. “You two were hungry.”
“We’re starving,” Hart said, “We’ll need more food and water.”
“I’ll do what I can,” the boy said.
“What’s your name?” Emma asked, then she added. “I’m not asking for your real name, I don’t expect that, but we have to call you something.”
“All right then, call me Joe.”
“Thank you again for the food and water, Joe.”
“You’re welcome,” Joe said, as he looked over at Hart. Hart was leaning back against the wall and seemed to be drifting off to sleep.
“Will you be able to bring us more water?”
“I’ll try, but the others don’t want me to.”
“But we need water, or we’ll die within a few days. No one will pay our ransom if we’re dead.”
Joe shook his head. “They always pay, it’s the hope, you know, hoping against hope as they say. We kill some of the hostages and some of them live. Everyone hopes that their people will be some of the ones that live.”
“How can you speak of it so casually?” Emma asked.
Joe looked over at Hart and smiled when he saw that the man was asleep. Emma followed his gaze and stared at her father. There was a slackness to his features that didn’t look natural.
“Dad, are you all right?”
“I drugged him,” Joe said. “It was in the water he drank.”
“Why did you do that?”
“Because I wanted to be alone with you.”
Joe pounced on Emma so quickly that she was taken off guard. He pulled her from the wall she was leaning on and had her lying on her back. She was certain that the thin boy didn’t weigh much more than she did, but he was strong, so strong.
Joe clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream then replaced the hand with his lips. Emma felt his tongue slip past her teeth as a hand probed beneath her dress, and fingers slid inside the waistband of her panties.
She tried to get away, tried to knee his crotch, but it was useless, and one of Joe’s fingers slipped inside her. Emma’s panic grew. Once more Joe’s tongue darted between her lips. That was a mistake. Emma bit down as hard as she could on the squirming organ, the resulting taste of blood which followed nearly made her vomit up the water she’d drunk. Joe’s scream was the loudest she had ever heard, and he moved off of her to stand on his knees.
“Bitch!” Joe said, but with his ruined tongue, it sounded like, “Bifft!”
The first punch struck Emma on the left eye, and the second blow split open her bottom lip. She had raised her arms up and so the third swing was absorbed by her right forearm.
The guard entered and grabbed Joe by the collar.
“What the hell have you done now, you little shit?” the guard asked Joe.
Joe struggled in his grasp as the guard rushed him from the room. Another man appeared and took Joe by the arm to lead him away. As the guard began shutting the door, he paused to look at Emma. Her blue dress was still pushed up around her waist and the elastic on her white underwear was ripped on one side. She was weeping as her breath came in gulps of air, and the tears mixed with the blood flowing from the cut on her lip.
The man laughed. “That little bastard fucked you, didn’t he?”
Emma said nothing, instead, she shivered as she recalled the feel of that squirming tongue, and of the finger forcing its way into her.
The guard pointed at the water bottle.
“That will be the last drink you ever have, you spoiled rich cunt.”
The door slammed, then the sound of two deadbolts being turned echoed in the room. Emma pulled her dress down and snuggled up against her unconscious father.
She felt rage flow through her. Emma wanted her captors dead. They didn’t deserve to live. If she made it through her ordeal, she would hire someone to track them down and kill them. That last thought was a fantasy and she knew it. However, there were men who could be hired for such a task. Men like Romeo and his friend Xavier.
Emma released a moan as she thought of Romeo. He was still the only man she had ever loved and was lightyears better than the scum who had her locked up.
Is that what Romeo had been trying to tell her back in Indonesia? That although he was a paid killer, he was still a good man, and far better than the thugs who abducted her and her father.
Romeo would kill them for what they had done, but he was gone from her life, never to return. On top of the pain in her face, the hollowness in her stomach, and the fear of impending death, Emma suddenly felt the weight of deep regret. She had sent Romeo away despite the love they had for each other. She had told him that he was unacceptable to her.
“I’m so sorry,” Emma whispered, as fresh tears flowed, and she lay there thinking of Romeo until a merciful sleep enveloped her.
91
Timber!
THE BOUDREAUX FARM, LOUISIANA, JANUARY 2019
Kendra hadn’t noticed that sparks from the fire were spreading flames throughout the barn until it was too late. She still felt confident in defeating the main blaze in front of the window thanks to the water hose. Once the hay fire was extinguished, she could keep the other small blazes from getting out of hand.
Or so she thought. The small fires grew in intensity. When flames near the door came into contact with the plastic container that held gas, it ignited the fire near the barn door. Even that wouldn’t
have been horrible if not for the fact that it had also damaged the garden hose.
With little water available, things turned deadly, and Kendra understood that she and Jake were facing death.
The only water available came from a faucet in the barn’s slop sink. Unfortunately, there was no way to connect the damaged hose to it.
The deadly fire from her childhood resurfaced in Kendra’s mind and froze her into inaction. With perfect clarity she remembered her grandfather’s soothing voice.
“I’ll get you to safety, baby girl, now don’t you worry.”
Because of the smoke, Kendra had been unable to see her granddaddy’s kind face, but she had heard the love in his voice, and the man had been true to his word and saved her.
“Jake, I’ll get you out of here.”
“Mom, what are we going to do? Every exit is blocked.”
“Grab those horse blankets off of that shelf. We’re going to wet those down good.”
Jake brought over the ratty blankets and Kendra moaned when she saw how threadbare they were. Still, there were three of them, and combined they might be enough.
“Once they’re good and wet we’ll drape them over us and run through the opening between the doors.”
Jake looked over at the doors and viewed a wall of flame.
“Will that work?”
“It will have to.”
When the blankets were dripping wet, visibility was becoming a problem. Smoke had filled the large high area of the loft overhead and was threatening to engulf the air at ground level.
Jake looked at his mother as she handed him all the blankets. “You don’t have any.”
She took him by the shoulders. “You’ll need all of them, and even then… baby, I won’t let you die.”
“You’re just going to stay here and burn?”
“I’m coming with you. If we run fast enough maybe I’ll only get singed a little.”
Jake was young, but he wasn’t that young, nor foolish.
“You’ll get burned bad, Mom.”
Kendra draped the blankets over her son. “Cover yourself as best you can. And don’t worry about being able to see, I’ll be guiding you.”
Jake coughed from the smoke then pleaded with his mother. “No, Mom.”
Kendra coughed as well while noticing that she could barely see the door.
“Jake, do as I say. There’s no time to argue.”
“What’s that noise?”
Kendra listened, and over the hiss and crackle of the flames she heard a familiar sound. It was faint but strident. “That sounds like the chainsaw.”
* * *
At the water tower, Tanner was sawing through the second of four legs that supported the tall structure. After the first leg had been severed, the tower groaned and leaned toward the barn, when he was halfway through the second leg, the weight collapsed the wooden strut and the tower rushed toward the ground.
The impact was great and destroyed the tank while spewing forth thousands of gallons of water. The weight of the liquid was massive but not all of it collided into the barn, as much of it splashed through the air. There was still enough rolling along the ground to knock down a section of the barn’s side wall and flood the structure.
As Tanner splashed toward the barn, Kendra and Jake emerged through a gap between the burnt sections of the barn doors. They had been carried out by a wave of water. After snorting and coughing the liquid that had entered their mouths, they began laughing with relief.
Tanner ran up to the pair, who were soaking wet. “Are you two all right?”
“Yes,” Kendra said, “but what happened?”
“I felled the water tower.”
“It saved our lives, Tanner,” Jake said. Then, he looked out over the carnage that had befell the bikers. The water from the tower had continued its path and put out the fire in the trench, while also filling it. The bodies of the Dixie Devils floated upon the water. “Wow, that’s a lot of dead guys.”
“You don’t need to look at this, Jake,” Kendra said.
Kendra attempted to steer Jake away and toward the house, but he resisted her.
“I’m all right, Mom. They got what they deserved, but they’ll be back won’t they? They’ll get more guys and come back?”
“They might be that stupid, yes,” Tanner said, “but I’m going to bypass them and have a talk with Randolph Grey. Maybe he’ll be smart enough to see that he should cut his losses and move on.”
* * *
By two a.m. the Boudreaux farm was the scene of a criminal investigation as the bodies were being cleared away. Chief of Police Brett Cross looked overwhelmed by the scene and was woefully understaffed to handle it. Fortunately, he had received help from the New Orleans Police Department. The homicide detective who showed up to manage the scene listened to Kendra relay her story, not just about the attack, but concerning the previous months of harassment.
The detective was named Carson. Detective Carson was aghast when he learned that Chief Cross didn’t have an investigation going.
“There was no need to start an investigation. Kendra had no proof that she was being targeted, only a suspicion.”
Detective Carson, who was a black man in his forties, pointed to the area where the bodies were being loaded onto ambulances for transfer to the New Orleans morgue.
“She’s got proof now, doesn’t she, Chief? And who is this guy Grey that she says is behind everything?”
“Mr. Grey is a community leader; he’s also a good friend of your police commissioner.”
“I don’t care if they French kiss each other. You need to talk to Grey and let him know that if he’s behind this shit it has to stop. Miss Boudreaux and her son could have died, and what’s this about other people being forced to sell their land?”
The chief looked away as he said, “That’s only a rumor.”
“Brett is covering up for Randolph Grey because the man owns him,” Kendra said.
“That’s a lie,” the chief said in a passionless voice, before walking away with his head down.
Detective Carson addressed Tanner by the name on his Homeland Security I.D.
“Are you going to stay to see this through?”
“Absolutely,” Tanner said.
“In an official capacity?”
“No, this is personal. I have ties to the Boudreaux family.”
“I see, but I wouldn’t expect any help from the chief over there.”
“As long as he doesn’t get in my way,” Tanner said.
“And if he does?”
Tanner’s smile sent a chill down Carson’s spine.
92
Captured
THE MEON VALLEY, ENGLAND, OCTOBER 2003
Romeo never spotted the hidden sensor he’d set off, but he did notice the sentry sent out to look him over.
The man was sitting in a wooden platform that was up a tree and resembled a deer stand. Romeo gave no indication that he had spotted the man, who was talking into a radio. He was trying to give the impression that he was a lone hiker who had gotten lost in the valley.
He also never saw Cody, although he knew his friend was sticking close to him.
Romeo was less than a mile from the settlement when they rode up on him in a jeep with no top. There were four of them, all with SA80 assault rifles. Romeo stopped walking and threw his hands in the air.
“Whoa! What’s going on?”
The man in the passenger seat stood. He was the one they had nicknamed Red-face. He was in his fifties and had a round face with a ruddy complexion. Like the others, he was wearing a denim jacket and jeans. It seemed to be a uniform of sorts, as were the black T-shirts they wore. Romeo was dressed the same, only his jacket was made of brown leather and had a sheepskin lining.
“This is private property. What are you doing here?” The man had a high voice and his accent sounded cockney.
“I’m just hiking. I wanted to see some of the valley, but I guess I got lost.”
> Red-face and his friends shared looks among themselves before the man spoke again.
“You’re an American?”
“Yeah.”
The man pointed his rifle at him. “Where’s your partner?”
“Partner? What partner? I’m out here by myself, and listen, I didn’t mean to trespass. I’ll just head back the way I came, okay, dudes?”
“Take him down, Chauncy,” Red-face said, and Romeo realized that someone was rushing up behind him. He was only able to glimpse a man with hair as long as his own before he was shoved forward to the ground. He had nearly side-stepped the attack but stopped himself. He was a lost hiker, not a man skilled in hand-to-hand combat.
The impact with the ground was hard and made more so by the man’s weight on him, plus the added weight of his backpack. Once his wrists were zip-tied behind his back, Romeo was searched by the man who had tackled him, while another man, one from the rear of the jeep, went through his pack.
“He’s clean,” the long-haired man said. His partner confirmed that the same was true for his backpack.
The man in the jeep rubbed a hand over his chin.
“I still don’t like it that he’s an American, and neither will Mr. Canterbury. We’ll bring him back with us and interrogate him. We can always kill him later.”
“Kill me? Hey, what the fuck, man. I haven’t done anything.”
The eyes on the man in the jeep squinted from his round red face.
“We had some friends killed recently by two Americans. One of them was blond like you.”
Romeo wondered how they knew that two Americans had destroyed the bomb factory, although he really didn’t care. By stating that the people at the compound had been friends, the man had admitted that they were involved with Garth Livingston.
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