by L C Hayden
He took a deep breath and looked at his surroundings. Definitely not as beautiful as Alaska, but this place held a sense of its own charm. He wondered if he would ever see Alaska again.
Not that it mattered. He had done his job and done it well. Now all that was left for him to do was sit, wait, and casually sip his beer. He had barely swallowed that first sip of his rich, cold drink when he saw a gray SUV slowly approach.
Without standing up, he signaled for them to approach.
* * *
Duncan inched the car forward and slammed on the brakes. “What the hell?” Her first instinct was to run out of the car and check on the body lying across the road. Logic told her to remain in the car. Safety first above all had always been her motto.
She quickly scanned the area. Her gaze rested on the man sitting on a wooden dining room chair placed in front of the cabin. He sipped his beer as though he had no worries or concerns.
Other than him, the area seemed to be deserted, even by her own men.
She placed her gun next to her on the passenger seat. Mike glanced out the rearview mirror. Southerland held his gun in his hands.
The man signaled for Duncan to roll down her window so she could hear what he had to say. He set the beer down and raised his arms as if surrendering. “Don’t shoot the messenger!” He shouted to be heard. “Hear what I have to say.” He took baby steps toward them, stopped, and then walked at a steady pace.
Both Duncan and Southerland drew their weapons and pointed them at the approaching man. They opened the car doors and stood behind them, using them as shields.
“Damn it!” Mike said. “Give me a gun.”
Duncan and Southerland ignored him and continued to focus on the stranger.
Halfway between the car and the chair, Nate stopped. “Can you hear me without me having to yell?”
“We hear you,” Duncan said.
“Then I’ll begin by telling you that we’ve been expecting you. We saw you and your backup creeping up the hill. We know your men are hiding all around us. Please tell them not to shoot. Like I said, I’m just the messenger.”
“Identify yourself,” Duncan said.
“My name is Nate Middleton, but that won’t mean a thing to any of you. What you want to know is if Ellen Biebesheimer is being held prisoner in there.” He pointed to the cabin. “Yes, she is, but before any of you rush over to rescue her, let me warn you. She’s in a very tight predicament.”
Mike closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face.
Duncan saw him, but ignored him. “What does that mean?”
“How does that expression go? Seeing is believing? It’s better to show than tell?” Nate shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. What is important is that you see for yourselves what Ellen is up against.” He paused for a few dramatic seconds. “I’m sure you all have binoculars. I’ll give you a few seconds to take them out. I trust none of you will do anything foolish. If you do, you’ll sign Ellen’s death certificate.”
Duncan indicated with her eyes that her pair of binoculars was located under the front passenger seat. Mike reached under there, found them, and took them out. He handed them to Duncan.
Nate continued, “Focus them, if you will, on the windows. You will clearly see some wires. Before you ask, yes, those are explosives. Any of you try to shoot out a window or shoot tear gas through any window, the cabin will explode and Ellen will definitely—how should I say this? Cease to exist.” He spread his fingers, imitating an explosion.
“You son of a bitch,” Mike said under his breath. Although his voice was carefully neutral, the dread exploded straight into panic.
“And again, before you ask,” Nate continued, “Yes, there’s a back door. But like the windows, it too has been wired. Take my word, you don’t want to open the back door, not even an inch.” Nate lowered his arms so that they hung loose beside him. “Any questions?”
“How do we know you’re not lying?” Duncan asked.
“The wires. You can see them. That’s proof enough. Any of you want to check the back door? Be my guest. Just be careful. Like I said, the cabin will blow.”
“How do we know that you’re really holding Ellen in there?”
“That, you can answer yourself. You came all the way over here and brought a whole bunch of men because why? Because you really didn’t think Ellen is in there?” He pointed to the cabin.
“How do we know she’s still alive?”
Mike held his breath.
“All in time,” Nate answered. “Like I said, I’m only the messenger, and as such, there’s one more thing I need to say.” He cleared his throat and spoke as if he were an actor and was about to deliver the performance of his life. “The only way to safely enter the cabin is through the front door. Anybody tries anything else, the wires will be tripped, and Ellen, well, you know what will happen to poor Ellen. She’s already endured so much.”
“You talk a big talk,” Duncan said. “The wires could be just that—wires not connected to anything. And you still haven’t proved to us that Ellen is in there or even that she’s alive.”
“It’s not for me to prove anything to you. Since I’m not the one in charge, I have no authority to do anything. You want to negotiate? Then you need to talk to the man inside the cabin, the same one who probably at this time is holding a gun to Ellen’s head.”
“How do we do that—communicate with the man inside the cabin?” Duncan asked.
“There’s a walkie talkie behind the biggest pine in that set of trees.” Nate indicated the cluster of ponderosas that grew along the road. “My boss, Everett, has the other walkie talkie with him.”
Duncan and Southerland exchanged glances. “Trees are too far and there’s no protection,” Duncan told Southerland.
Mike stepped away from the safety of the open car door and headed toward the trees.
“Mike! Get back. Don’t be a fool,” Duncan said.
But by then it was too late.
Chapter 78
Sweat covered every inch of Mike’s body as he headed for the trees. He bent low and ran in a zig zag pattern. He might not make it, he knew, but he would do anything to save Ellen.
An amused grin spread over Nate’s face as he watched Mike risk his life. He looked back toward the cabin to see if he could spot Everett standing by the window, watching what was going on. When he failed to see him, he went back to his chair and sat down. He picked up the beer he had left there and took a swig.
Mike reached the tree, and no shots had been fired. He breathed easier. He looked behind the tree. Just as Nate had said, a walkie talkie rested at the foot of the pine. He carefully glanced at it. No wires attached. It looked genuine. He kicked it and it rolled down the hill a couple of feet.
He waited.
Nothing happened. He picked it up and took it over to Duncan. This time, he walked in a straight line and in a normal fashion.
When he reached the SUV, he handed the walkie talkie to Duncan.
She grabbed it. “Fool!” Even though her voice was carefully guarded, the edge of anger mixed with frustration crept in. “What did I say about not interfering with the negotiations?”
“I don’t see much negotiating going on.” Mike walked back to his side of the car. “And you’re welcome.”
Duncan rolled her soft brown eyes and pressed the speak button on the walkie talkie. “We got the place surrounded. There’s no way you’re going to be walking out of this. Let Ellen go, and come out with your hands up.”
“I never planned to walk out,” came the voice from the walkie talkie, “so you’re wasting your breath.”
Duncan let out a sigh of frustration. “Tell us what we need to do in order to make this happen.”
“Only one thing. Bring Bronson and bring him now.”
Chapter 79
Duncan set the walkie talkie down. “Bronson is your partner,” she told Mike.
Mike nodded. “Ex-partner. Bronson is retired.”
“Where
is he now?”
“Hell if I know.”
“Can you reach him?”
“I can try.” Mike took out his cell and speed dialed Bronson’s number. The phone rang once before going to voice message. “Call me as soon as you get this.” Mike disconnected. He looked at Duncan and shook his head.
“I didn’t hear an answer,” came the voice from the walkie talkie.
“We’re trying to see if we can locate Bronson.”
Silence came from the other end.
“We’re doing this in good faith,” Duncan said. “But you’ve got to give us something in return.”
“Like what?”
Duncan glanced at Mike. “We need to know that Ellen is still alive.”
Mike bit his lip.
“She is,” the walkie talkie blared. “You can take my word for it.”
“That’s not good enough. We want to see her.”
“Opening the door so you can see her might create a problem for me.”
“Then solve the problem while we continue to try to get hold of Bronson.”
The line went dead for a few minutes.
“What’s going on?” Mike asked more to himself than to anybody.
“Are you still there?” Duncan asked.
“Where else would I go?”
Duncan smiled, but it came out more of a sneer. “Can you at least give me your name? I want to put a name to your voice.”
“I’m Everett Henderson, and I have a plan so you can see Ellen.”
“I’m all ears.”
“First, I have a simple request.”
“What’s that?”
“I want one of you to stand where Nate is sitting down on his chair. This way, when I open the door if anyone tries anything I don’t like, I’ll shoot and kill that person.”
Duncan rubbed her forehead. “I’ll go.”
“No, not you.” A slight pause, followed by, “I want that brave or foolish man who went to get the walkie talkie to come forward.”
“He means me,” Mike said.
“I know what he means,” Duncan said. “I’ll rot in hell before I let you go.” She raised the walkie talkie and pressed the speak button. “That’s not possible. He is not one of my men. He’s here for observation only. I will not put a civilian in danger like that.”
“Suit yourself, but you’ll never know if I really have Ellen, and if I do, if she’s still alive.”
Before Duncan could answer, Mike bolted toward the cabin.
“Get back here!” Mike heard Duncan bark out the order, but he ignored her and continued heading toward the cabin.
“That’s far enough.”
Mike heard the command through the walkie talkie even though it was behind him. He stopped about three feet away from the chair where Nate watched the goings-on with an amused look on his face.
Nate’s phone went off. Nate looked at the caller I.D. and answered, “Yes, boss?” He listened for a minute and set the phone down but did not disconnect. Nate looked at Hoover. “He wants you to strip to your shorts. No socks. No shoes.”
Hoover stared at him.
“He wants to make sure you’re not packing,” Nate said.
“I assure you I have no weapons.”
“That’s not good enough. If you want to make sure Ellen stays safe, do as my boss says. He’s used to getting his way.”
Mike kicked off his shoes and began to unbutton his shirt.
While Mike continued to undress, Nate listened to more orders from Everett.
When Mike stood in front of him almost naked, Nate said, “I’m going to open the door. No one is to move. You will have a clear view of Ellen. Then I’ll close the door. You put your clothes back on and head back to them. Understood?”
Mike nodded.
Nate stood up and headed toward the cabin. One hand held his cell, the other one reached for the doorknob and gently swung the door open. He stepped out of the way so Mike could see Ellen.
When their eyes locked, Ellen let out a small gasp.
That’s when Everett knew.
Chapter 80
“You know him, don’t you?” Everett asked Ellen.
She shook her head. “No, it’s just seeing this stranger standing in front of me almost naked.” She looked away.
“You’re a good actress, but not good enough.” Everett raised his cell and spoke to Nate. “Tell him I changed my mind. I want him to come in. Tell him not to bother picking up his clothes.”
Nate relayed the message to Mike.
Seconds later, Mike stood in the doorway. “I’m here, like you asked. Now release her.” His eyes were glued on Ellen.
“Just as I thought,” Everett said. “You two do know each other. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you must be the infamous Mike Hoover, the one who keeps on working and keeps breaking poor Ellen’s heart. I thought I recognized your voice.”
Mike frowned. Recognized his voice? From where?
Ellen shook her head. “That’s not him,” she said, but there was little conviction to her voice.
Everett ignored her. “Both of you, come in,” he told Nate and Mike.
Nate closed the door behind them.
“Tie him up,” Everett ordered Nate. “There’s plenty of rope left.”
While Nate dragged another chair from the kitchen and dragged it close to Ellen, Mike inched his way toward Everett, but Everett was faster. He raised his gun and pointed it at Ellen’s head. “One more stupid stunt like that and she’s dead.”
Mike flopped down on the chair and allowed Nate to tie him.
Everett smiled as he watched Nate test each knot he made. This was turning out to be one heck of a great day. When the house exploded, not only would it kill Bronson and Ellen, but Mike as well. Bronson would die knowing he was responsible for his partner’s death as well as his “sister’s” death.
Everett couldn’t have planned it any better. Life was good.
Chapter 81
“Damn it!” Duncan roared. “That’s exactly what I didn’t want to see happen. Now I have two hostages to rescue. I specifically told him not to go. I should have known better than to bring him.” Duncan took deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. Once she felt back in control, she picked up the walkie talkie. She spoke in a calm voice. “Everett, you’re not playing fair. We sent him in good faith. Release him and release Ellen.”
“You know the conditions. I want Bronson. He walks in and these two walk out.”
Damn it! Duncan messaged her forehead. “We still haven’t been able to reach Bronson. But we’re trying. You’ve got to give us time.”
“Time is all I have left. Do whatever you need to do, or I’ll start cutting off fingers and throwing them out the door. You have two hours to get Bronson here.”
“We’re doing our best. No need to get violent.”
“Violence is not in my nature, but I do have a question for you. Whose fingers would you like first? Mike’s or Ellen’s? Or maybe one of each? I like that. One of each. This way, they’ll be the perfect matching couple.” He laughed at his own joke. “If you don’t want to see that happen, in two hours Bronson walks in.”
“Be reasonable,” Duncan said “I won’t promise you something I can’t deliver. But I do promise to keep trying to get hold of Bronson.” She waited for an answer.
None came.
Damn it! “Everett? Can you hear me?”
Again, only silence answered.
Duncan lowered the walkie talkie. She realized that Everett had broken off communication. She didn’t expect to hear from him until the two hours were up. “Someone get hold of Bronson! I don’t care what you have to do. Get him and get him now.”
Duncan looked at her watch. The clock was ticking and still no word from Bronson.
Chapter 82
Bronson looked out the airplane window. He hated not knowing Ellen’s status. The one comfort he held was knowing that Ellen seemed to be in good hands. Rory Duncan sounded like a good detectiv
e—someone he could trust under any circumstance. Maybe by now Duncan had rescued Ellen and she was safe in Mike’s arms.
He hoped that was the case. It was the not knowing part that really bothered him. He turned to the pilot. “You’re sure I can’t make one quick call?”
“Fifteen minutes ago, I said, ‘No.’ Ten minutes ago I again said, ‘No.’ Five minutes ago you asked again, and again I gave you the same answer. So let me ask you, what do you think the answer is going to be?”
Bronson frowned and looked away. “Sorry to be such a pain. Normally, I’m not.” He thought about it. “Well, maybe sometimes. It must be the coffee.”
“You drank too much today?”
“No, not enough.”
The pilot tilted his head and his forehead wrinkled, but he remained quiet.
Bronson’s attention returned to the clouds.
Twenty-five minutes later, the pilot said, “I got clearance to land.”
Finally! How is Ellen? Soon as the pilot told him it was safe, Bronson pulled out his cell, turned it on, and listened to what seemed to be an endless number of bings his phone sent him. Someone had been desperately trying to reach him.
The first one was from Mike. Bronson listened to it. Call me immediately.
The rest came from Detective Rory Duncan. Bronson scrolled to the most recent call. Call me. Where are you? We need you here now.
Bronson ignored the rest of the calls. Instead, he dialed Duncan’s cell. Even before Duncan had a chance to answer, Bronson said, “Bronson here. What’s going on?”
“Where are you?” The voice sounded relieved, but there was something else mixed with that. Anger? Concern?
“I’m at the Morro Bay airport. I flew in on a private jet.”
“Stay put. I’ll send the nearest cruiser to get you and bring you here.”
“I’ll be waitin’ by the main entrance.”
“Good. I’ll fill you in later on. Let me get the cruiser going.” Duncan disconnected.
Bronson turned to the pilot. “Thank you very much for literally going out of your way for me. I appreciate you bringin’ me here. How much do I owe you?”