Dangerously Entwined

by Sidney Bristol

  Nolan nudged him.

  Grant turned and saw a third man enter from the hospital proper dressed similar to the other two.

  Three on four, Grant liked those odds. If they moved now, he had no doubt they could get away. But what about Vaughn?

  If they couldn’t get him help here, they’d be forced to do something drastic. Like hold up a veterinary clinic and hope for the best.

  Grant went to a knee and looked up at Melody. “We need to decide what we’re doing, right now.”

  Before that decision was made for them.

  She dipped her chin in the barest acknowledgement.

  “Hernandez?” a woman called out.

  Vaughn held up his hand. “Here.”

  Shit.

  Grant grabbed Vaughn’s arm and helped hoist him to his feet.

  Another sketchy looking man took a drink from the water fountain.

  That made four on four.

  “You’ve got to get out of here,” Vaughn said as he limped toward the nurse waiting on them.

  Grant shook his head. “We aren’t leaving you.”

  “I’m no good to them. You should go, now. Leave me here. It’ll be hard to drag me out of a hospital.”

  Grant ignored Vaughn’s protest.

  The nurse eyed him with speculation. Grant wasn’t sure what Nolan had jotted down as their reason for visiting the hospital, but he doubted the whole bullet wound part had been disclosed.

  The young nurse showed them into a bay. Grant helped Vaughn sit on the gurney while the nurse told them someone would be in shortly then left.

  “We aren’t going to have long,” Grant said. He turned to face the others and realized it was just Nolan standing there. No Melody. “Where’s Mel?”

  Nolan turned around, as if he expected her to be right behind them.

  “Shit.” Grant froze, torn between caring for the team in front of him and going after Melody.

  They must have grabbed her while they were focused on Vaughn. An experienced operative could likely do that, just steal her out from under his nose.

  “Go, leave me,” Vaughn said again.

  “Shut up,” Nolan snapped.

  The curtain rose a bit on one side and Melody stepped in, holding her backpack to her chest like a baby.

  “Where were you?” Grant took a step toward her.

  Melody shoved the backpack at Nolan. “Here. See if we have anything that might help him. There are more of those guys out there now.”

  Nolan took the backpack and peered inside. “Holy... Did you raid their medicine cabinet or something?”

  “Yeah.” Melody turned to face Grant. “There’s no easy way out. That car came back around and is sitting at the curb. We can probably assume they’re watching all the exits and have people inside.”

  He turned and eyed the window looking out on a small courtyard between the hospital wings. “Through there.”

  “Does it even open?” Melody’s face scrunched up.

  “There’s no central air. This has to open.” Grant reached over and felt along the side if the window. The way he figured, most places in this part of the world needed open windows to survive the warmer seasons.

  “Just stick me already,” Vaughn groused.

  “How’s it coming? Anything good?” Melody asked Nolan.

  “Well,” Nolan said, “he isn’t going to like me in about half an hour, but this’ll get him on his feet.”

  Vaughn chuckled painfully. “I hate you already.”

  Grant flipped the catch and forced the window open a little at a time until the opening was wide enough for a human body. He turned toward the others.

  Vaughn sat straight up, his spine arched. “Holy fucking shit.”

  “In half an hour he’s going to crash,” Nolan said.

  “What did you give him?” Melody stared wide eyed at Vaughn.

  “You have to go, now,” Grant snapped.

  He grabbed Melody by the wrist, pulled her to him and grasped her by the waist. “Go. Get Vaughn out of here.”

  She glared at him. “What are you going to do?”

  “Buy you some time.” He committed her face to memory, aware that if things went badly, this might be the last time he saw her. It was the same risk he always took every time he walked out the door on a job.

  “Grant!”

  He didn’t give her a chance to argue. He picked her up and pushed her out the window. She swung her legs to the other side and dropped to the ground.

  Vaughn shouldered past Grant and gingerly climbed up using a chair.

  “What—what are you doing?” a woman called out.

  Grant whirled to face a nurse gaping at them.

  “Move!” A man yelled somewhere beyond her.

  Someone else cried out.

  Grant gave Vaughn a last shove. “Go!”

  Two of the men Grant had seen earlier in the lobby shoved the nurse aside. The curtain shielding the bay half ripped off its rings, falling haphazardly on the floor.

  For half a second Grant stared at the men.

  The men stared at Grant and Nolan.

  Grant grabbed the gurney and shoved, using it like a battering ram, knocking the closest man back. The second man brought his arms up, gun in hand. Nolan reacted first, squeezing off a round.

  People screamed.

  Staff and patients in the hall beyond scattered.

  Grant darted out into the hall, past the curtain.

  More men in nearly uniform cargo pants and lose button-down shirts rushed toward them.

  Nolan shoved at Grant.

  They dove through a pair of doors about to close, into a hall beyond. Nolan kept his hand up under his shirt, weapon concealed. Grant took off at a jog, knowing something as simple as a badge controlled door wouldn’t keep those people off their tail for long.

  A red exit sign beckoned Grant.

  “This way!”

  He dodged left.

  The sooner they got out of the building and cleared the area, the better their chance of escape. If they could get away at all.

  A side entrance loomed ahead.

  Behind them feet pounded the tile. Men called out orders in a language Grant couldn’t make out.

  He hit the door going at full speed, Nolan right behind him.

  A late model sedan screeched to a stop at the curb, the driver’s side window down, Melody staring at them.

  “Come on, get in!”

  Grant had never been so happy to see her.

  He vaulted over the trunk and got into the back seat on the passenger’s side. He and Nolan flattened themselves as low as they could while Melody got them out of there.

  To say it was a close call was an understatement. They weren’t going to be so lucky a second time.

  THURSDAY. LIMAN’S HEADQUARTERS, Ibiza Town, Ibiza.

  Liman flipped through the report Khaled had brought him on the progress of their drug enhancement trials. Just before they’d left for Ibiza all of their participants in the program had undergone regular tests. Each set of results were matched against Elio’s, and each set came up short.

  What were they missing? Why had no one demanded more oversight the first time around?

  There were side effects, things that should have been worked out by now. Some of the participants weren’t even reacting to the stims any longer. They’d become immune, for lack of a better word.

  What was it they didn’t have? Couldn’t see?

  Liman hadn’t been around in those days. He’d been managing another operation at the time. But he’d heard stories.

  Mysterious men showing up with promises and a briefcase full of documents. They’d sold their abilities to those much higher up the food chain, convincing them to make a go of it.

  Elio had been their first test. It stood to reason that their first go at the program needed to be a disposable body. From what Liman had heard, no one had taken it seriously. Not until a mostly dead Elio got up and rammed his fist through a cinderblock wal
l.

  Whatever they’d done, it had worked.

  Shortly thereafter Liman had been tapped to work with Elio. He didn’t know what happened to the man before him and hadn’t asked. Liman had never met the briefcase carrying man who’d brought them the science. His entrance and their exit had happened at roughly the same time. All he knew was that there was a crucial step in the science to reproduce the results they’d gotten with Elio. And now even Elio was lost to them. All they had were these pills, and they weren’t as good. Hell, it seemed like most of them were failing.

  Khaled stood in the doorway to the dining room. Liman wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, only that the man was watching him. Assessing. Waiting.

  Liman’s stomach knotted up. A spy for those above him?

  “What? Any word from the hospital?” Liman asked.

  “Yes, sir.” Khaled stepped into the room, no apologies made for the hovering.

  Liman put the report down and locked his gaze on the other man. “And?”

  “They got away. Sir.”

  He leaned forward. “What?”

  “They were at the hospital like you suspected, but they got away.”

  “How?” he demanded.

  “I’m not sure.”

  Liman swept the dishes off the table and onto the floor.

  He had a dozen medically enhanced men with him. How was it a rag tag team was getting the best of them? How?

  He stood and went to the windows, staring out at the crystal blue waters.

  Ibiza wasn’t a large island. There were limited ways off and onto it. Eventually he’d find them and get Elio back.

  6.

  Thursday. Ibiza Town, Ibiza.

  Melody used one of her hair clips to secure the hotel curtains shut and block out all the light. An ancient window unit chugged cooler air into the pay-by-the-hour room. They’d fled to an older part of the town that pre-dated the tourist boom and nightlife. She wouldn’t call it a bad part of town, just a lot less glossy and polished. The people who lived here were born from generations of fisherman before they became something else. Before the rest of the world told them to be unhappy with their lives.

  “Oh, God. Fucking hell.” Vaughn groaned.

  She glanced at the bed and bit her lip.

  Whatever drugs Nolan had given Vaughn to get him mobile had worn off a good half hour ago. Melody hadn’t said it, but she was worried about a variety of medical complications that weren’t infection. Blood loss, sepsis, internal bleeding, organ puncture. The list went on. If they didn’t get a real doctor to look at Vaughn soon, he could very well die.

  “It’s okay. This will make it all better,” Nolan muttered as he bent over the other man’s arm.

  “What are you giving him?” Grant paced the room, his energy tightly coiled. He was in full disaster mode, ready to make a decision in the blink of an eye.

  “Something for the pain, then we’ll do that first dose of antibiotics.” Nolan glanced up. “After that, I’m going to do a blood transfusion.”

  “What?” Melody frowned at them. She hadn’t grabbed blood. She didn’t know what the hell she’d scooped off the shelf besides bottles, some supplies and three bags of saline. It sure as hell hadn’t been blood.

  Nolan focused on his task, administering an intravenous dose of something. “Vaughn and I are the same blood type.”

  “You can’t...” Melody’s mouth stopped working.

  Vaughn breathed a sigh and shut his eyes, the drugs taking effect.

  “I can,” Nolan said. “And I will.”

  “Can we just think about the bigger picture for a moment?” Melody asked. “The best thing for Vaughn is to get off this island. Can we agree on that?”

  Grant’s mouth twisted up and she could already hear his protest. She knew him too well. Nolan just stared at her.

  “I know. You won’t leave Riley and Brenden.” She swallowed and straightened her spine. It was time to me some tough calls. “We have to stop reacting.”

  “Agreed,” Grant said. “Our next move needs to be communicating with Zain. Somehow.”

  Melody crossed her arms over her chest and wished their bags had included Kevlar vests. “How likely do we think the Lebanese can trace our calls? Do we think they have the same capability here that they did in their own country?”

  “It’s not likely.” Grant locked gazes with her. “But I don’t want to risk it.”

  Melody didn’t like taking risks either, but she needed to examine this situation from all sides. One of them had to be mentally out of the trenches. “Let’s be reasonable. Would the Lebanese government be able to hack into, say, the island’s phone system?”

  Grant shook his head. “That’s not the end I’m worried about. If they’re after us, then they’ve likely targeted Zain’s phone. That way they don’t have to worry about how we call home, they just have to watch the one person we’d call.”

  “Shit,” Melody muttered. “Then we call someone else.”

  Nolan chuckled a bitter sound. “How many of us know phone numbers anymore? I barely have Yvonne’s number memorized, and I’m not positive I’m right. I can’t call her and tell her all of this.”

  Melody had to agree with Nolan, there weren’t many phone numbers she knew by heart that weren’t tied to their work. But there was one.

  “I know Merida’s cell phone number,” she said.

  “You do?” Grant’s brows rose.

  “Yeah.” Melody hadn’t meant to memorize the number, it just repeated enough that it had stuck.

  “Then that’s who we call.”

  “How are we doing this?” She gestured to Vaughn. “We can’t call from here. He needs to rest.”

  Grant took a step toward the door. “You and I go a couple blocks over and find a pay phone, if we’re lucky. If not, we play the stupid tourist card.”

  Melody nodded. “Okay. Yeah.”

  Nolan pushed to his feet. “Vaughn’s got painkillers and antibiotics in him. His veins are pretty shrunk up. I think the best thing to do is get that IV bag in him, then do the transfusion. I’ll do the saline while you guys are gone, hold off on the transfusion until you’re back.”

  “After we get back we should move again,” she said. “Find somewhere to hide Vaughn.”

  Grant bobbed his head. “Agreed.”

  “He can’t wait long, but we need a secure base of operations.” Nolan sank into one of the rickety chairs. “I’ll get him as good to move as I can, but I’m not a doctor.”

  “We’re also going to need a car.” Grant focused on her. “Think you can handle that, Grand Theft Auto?”

  Melody opened and closed her mouth, aware the two men were staring at her. There were skills she’d learned during her days as a cop that she hadn’t needed to use in many years. She was just glad it had come back to her when she needed it.

  She tipped her chin up and kept her voice level. “Yes, I believe I can handle that.”

  Nolan chuckled. “I have questions, but they can wait.”

  Melody focused on Grant and keeping calm. She would not blush, not here, not now=. “Are we doing this or what?”

  Grant studied her a moment.

  There was coming a day when they would all know her past. She knew there would be questions. It had always been a matter of when.

  At the time she’d been hired, she hadn’t wanted the men to think less of her because she’d quit being a cop. That job had gotten to her in a way that she couldn’t escape. No matter what she did, the next day or the next week, she saw the exact same stuff. So she’d had to move on, to something different, but no less demoralizing.

  Here, on this team, she felt like she’d finally found her calling. What she did mattered. They helped people and changed lives.

  “Let’s go,” Grant said finally.

  Melody nodded and smoothed her hands down her sides. “I am going to need a bag. I can’t exactly hide a gun wearing this. We probably need to pick up a change of clothing for all o
f us now that they’ve seen what we’re wearing.”

  “Agreed. Let’s do that while we’re out.” Grant shifted some of the contents out of his bag and offered it to her.

  The atmosphere in the room was tense, half in part to Nolan’s muttered cursing as he tried to get the IV bag going. The rest was coming from Grant. He didn’t like not knowing.

  If he had any idea what he didn’t know things would be more than tense.

  She hoped this worked, that she was able to call Merida and get this whole thing magically sorted out. These men didn’t deserve to get attacked. They were good people.

  Melody and Grant left the hotel room in silence. She watched the street, the people, looking for anyone paying them too much attention. All she saw were locals going about their day.

  And it was a beautiful day.

  Blue skies. No clouds. Brisk breeze.

  It was picture perfect weather.

  Too bad her insides were knotted up. For now, they were okay. But how long would that last?

  Grant picked their path, setting their course for a line of shops a few blocks away. They stopped in two different stores, using them as both a shopping opportunity but also to watch the street. Grant picked out some T-shirts and hats, commenting to her about his friends back home that’d get the souvenirs. They fell into the faux tourist roles easily enough, playing their parts.

  He didn’t ask her the questions that were no doubt burning his mind. The ones she knew were coming. Instead they kept going, kept up the rouse, postponing yet more conversations they needed to have.

  At long last they stopped at a payphone that had seen better days.

  Melody ticked off the hours.

  It was just past midnight in Seattle.

  Merida was not going to be happy to hear from her.

  Melody fed money into the phone then dialed Merida’s number.

  The line began to ring.

  Melody blew out a breath and turned to look up and down the street. She’d exchanged her floppy hat for a baseball cap that was easier to manage with the breeze and didn’t block her line of sight like the other hat had. It wasn’t as good for ducking Grant’s stare.