Sitting down next to the phone, he opened his address book and started scanning for Mickey’s name. I walked over to my grandfather and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Gramps, you can call him later,” I said gently. “We have to deal with this first.”
My grandfather shook his head. “I need to call him before we go over there. It’s important.”
My heart squeezed and a terrible thought crossed my mind—I worried that he wanted to say goodbye. A lump appeared in my throat and I tried to swallow past it, tears immediately stinging at my eyes. Gramps made a little noise as he found Mickey’s number.
He reached a trembling hand for the phone and started dialing. I leaned over to help him as Maribel pushed the door open. She backed a wheelchair through the door before closing it again and hitting the locks on the wheelchair’s back wheels.
Then she glanced at me, and glanced at Tomas, and took a deep breath. “Help me get this guy up, will you?”
“Of course,” I said. Gramps made a noise behind me and said hello to my brother. I wanted to listen to what he was saying, but he was talking in a low voice and I had bigger things to deal with.
Tomas-sized things.
The big man was fully conscious now, and he wasn’t happy. His eyes flashed with anger as Maribel and I came closer. He kicked out toward us and we both jumped back.
I took a deep breath. “Now, Tomas,” I said. “We’re just trying to get you back to your uncle. If you help us out and get in this wheelchair, we’ll take you straight there.” He scowled at us. I glanced at Maribel, who shrugged. She wore scrubs, and her hands fiddled with the hem of her top. Her mousey brown hair was tied back in a low ponytail.
I glanced back at Tomas. “Look, buddy, we’re amateurs.” He frowned, and I continued. “We don’t know what we’re doing. We’ve obviously never done this before.” I swept my arms over his bindings ”I want to get you out of here as much as you do. You spoke to your uncle, didn’t you? This is legit. We’re exchanging you for our friends and then we’ll be on our way.”
Tomas stared at me.
“Does he speak English?” Maribel whispered.
I shrugged. I put my hands on my hips and took a deep, frustrated breath. “Just get in the freaking wheelchair, will you?”
Tomas scowled again, but he scooted his legs closer and started shimmying up the wall. In a few seconds he was standing. I glanced at Maribel.
“Looks like he’s done that before.”
“Maybe we should have tied him to something.”
We both glanced at his fists, tied together with an entire roll of duct tape in front of his body. He’d still be able to do damage with them like that.
Instead, he turned to the wheelchair and jutted his chin out, grunting. Maribel hopped behind it with trembling hands, unlocked the wheels, and pushed it toward him. He hopped in a little circle, his feet still tied together. He glanced over his shoulder and sat down on the chair. It rolled backwards a few inches and I helped Maribel hold it in place.
Gramps hung up the phone and looked at us with a big grin on his face. “Good work, girls.”
“What do we do about his gag? Should we take it off?” Maribel asked.
“What if he starts screaming on the way out to the car?”
Tomas mumbled something through the gag and the three of us exchanged a look. Gramps was the one to shake his head.
“Keep the gag on. Everyone will be at lunch now, anyway. Put a blanket over his legs and another one around his shoulders. You,” he said to Tomas, “keep your head buried in the blanket. Try to look old.” He glanced back at us. “I’ll play lookout from here to the side door. Cat, you go get the car. Maribel, you’ll wheel him out of here.”
As much as I hated involving my grandfather in all this, it was nice for someone else to take control.
I nodded. “Okay.”
Maribel, Gramps and I exchanged a glance, and then we all looked at Tomas. He looked resigned. I exhaled loudly and then slipped out the door.
It only took about four minutes for me to walk out of Green Meadows and into the parking lot, get in my car and drive it to the side door, but those four minutes were excruciating. My heart thumped with every footstep. When I got to the car, I dropped my keys as I tried to fish them out of my purse. I thought I was going to have a panic attack.
Then, I drove to the side door and parked there for another three minutes waiting for Maribel, Gramps, and Tomas.
This was a bad idea. No, it was worse than bad. This was a terrible idea. I was bringing my nearly ninety-year-old grandfather (who had dementia) and his vulnerable nurse (who had tried to vandalize my house) to some sort of hostage exchange. Was this real life?
And to make matters worse, I was exchanging some Polish thug for two CIA Agents. How the heck had this happened to me?
Fear clenched my stomach and I massaged the steering wheel, keeping my eyes glued to the side door. This was taking too long. Something had happened. They’d gotten caught, or Tomas had gotten away, or—
The door flew open and Gramps came shuffling through with a big grin plastered on his face. He held it open as Maribel wheeled the huge Polish man through. He had two massive blankets over him, and it made him as wide as the doorway. Maribel pushed him up to my car and I got out to help them.
Gramps’ eyes were shining. He was enjoying this. I, on the other hand, was on the verge of a breakdown.
I looked at our massive hostage and then at my tiny car, my eyes widening. My VW Bug was a two-door, and the backseat was only big enough for a child.
All four of us seemed to be coming to the same conclusion as we looked at my car.
I said it out loud. “He’s not going to fit.”
Tomas huffed and rolled his eyes. I squared off with him.
“Listen buddy,” I said, pointing my finger at him. “Didn’t I just say we were amateurs? I’ve never brought anyone to a hostage exchange before, and I didn’t really think that would happen when I bought this car. It’s not exactly something I consider when I’m choosing an automobile. It’s not actually something I consider ever, so this is all new to me. I would appreciate it if you just kept your attitude in check, okay? I still have another croquet mallet and I’m not afraid to use it.”
He glared at me. I huffed, shaking out my shoulders.
Maribel had a little smile on her face. She nodded to the parking lot. “My car’s bigger. I’ll bring it around.”
I shifted my weight from foot to foot until Maribel arrived with her car. At least hers was a four-door. We stuffed Tomas in the back seat and put the child locks on the doors. Then we stood there, hands on hips, staring at the two cars.
“Okay. I’ll drive Gramps in my car, and Maribel, you follow us with Tomas.”
“You want me alone in a car with him? What if he tries to strangle me?”
I groaned. “Okay. You drive Gramps in my car, and I’ll drive Tomas.”
“I’m not leaving you alone with that psycho,” Gramps said, crossing his arms. I stared at the two of them and then back at the two cars. This was like some awful, twisted logic puzzle and my brain was not able to process it.
“Just let me drive your car, Cat,” Gramps said quietly. He had a gleam in his eye that I didn’t quite like.
I shook my head. “You haven’t had a license for ten years, Gramps.”
“Come on, Kitty Cat,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “I haven’t felt this alive in years. I don’t have long left on this earth… let me enjoy this last bit of fun.”
“Fun?”
He just grinned in response. I glanced at Maribel, who shrugged. Finally, I sighed. I didn’t see any other way.
When I handed him my keys, I looked my grandfather in the eye. “Drive safe, okay. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Never,” he said, winking. That was possibly the least comforting thing he could have done, but it was too late now. I had to go with it. We had to go get Bennett and Finch.
&
nbsp; I tore myself away from him and got into the passenger’s seat of Maribel’s car. I glanced at the nurse as she buckled her seatbelt, and the two of us looked back at Tomas. Then, she turned the key in the ignition and started driving.
36
Chris
I was starting to really hate the docks. Last time I was here, I was having a showdown with some Russian mobsters, and I ended up shooting one of them dead.
This time, it was me who was the hostage, and there was no one coming to save me.
Well, no one except Cat, but that was the last person I wanted to see here.
Tony Kowalski was getting impatient. He paced back and forth on the cracked concrete, staring down the laneway that led toward us. Stacks of red, yellow, blue, and brown shipping containers towered over us, with small spaces between some of the containers that would just be big enough to squeeze through, but that was wishful thinking. I wasn’t getting out of this one. I was starting to feel claustrophobic. There were two ways in and out of this spot—one in front of us, and one behind. The road behind us led to a locked gate at the back of the shipyard that no one used, but at least it provided an alternate exit route.
Kowalski had thought this through.
Finch and I were sitting in the back seat of a car, waiting for the other party to show up. Finch looked tired, battered, and bloody, but he glanced at me and grinned as much as his gag would allow.
A car appeared at the far end of the laneway, its headlights flashing us as it approached. Hope fluttered in my chest again and I tried my best to quash it down.
This was the worst thing that could have happened. I’d put Cat directly in the line of fire, and I was tied up in the backseat of a car surrounded by armed and angry men.
As the car neared, my heart started thumping. It came to a stop about ten feet away from us, and the passenger’s side door opened. I exhaled as Cat stepped out, hands up above her head as the men around our car put their hands to their weapons.
“I’m unarmed,” she called out.
“How’d you knock Tomas out, then?” Kowalski called back.
Cat glanced at the car, and I noticed Maribel was in the driver’s seat. She turned back toward Kowalski and shrugged. “A croquet mallet.”
Kowalski frowned and took a step forward. “What? Never mind. Give me Tomas.”
“Not before you give me Finch and Bennett.” Her voice trembled a bit, but it sounded strong. My heart squeezed for her. She shouldn’t be here, but I loved seeing the determination on her face. My heart stirred in my chest and in that moment, I knew I loved her.
It hit me like a—well, like a croquet mallet. My eyes widened as she put her hands on her hips, jutting her chin out.
I loved this woman. I loved her snark and her stubbornness. I loved her smile and her intelligence. I loved everything about her. I leaned forward in the car, so focused on watching Cat that I jumped when the car doors were ripped open. A strong arm clamped onto mine and I was dragged out of the car, stumbling to my feet.
Glancing at Cat, I saw the horror on her face as she took me in. I must have looked worse than I thought, and I knew I looked bad. Tears filled her eyes for a moment, but she blinked them away. Her face hardened, and she stomped back to her car.
As she got to the back door, she glanced up at the road. Another car was driving toward us. Kowalski stiffened, and I heard Cat swear. She opened the car door and started dragging Kowalski’s nephew out of the back seat. A couple legs appeared, and then a butt, and finally a man unfolded himself and stood in front of her. He looked about two feet taller than her.
She turned back to Kowalski. “Happy?”
Kowalski grunted, but held up his hand. “Who’s that?”
A VW Bug was driving down the lane toward us. Cat looked furious. As it got closer, I could see an old man behind the wheel—her grandfather.
As he parked the car, everyone was silent. We watched as the old man opened the door with great difficulty and then used all his strength to climb out. He leaned on the car, turning to our little assembly of hostages and kidnappers.
His chest heaved as he wheezed, and he brought a hand up to smooth his thinning, white hair. He was wearing a knitted sweater and a pair of grey slacks. His reading glasses hung from his neck and he took a trembling step forward.
This was the great Shorty Nowak. This man, who could hardly stand on his own, was the man that Tony Kowalski hated so much.
“What are you doing here?” Cat hissed. “I told you to wait at the gate.”
Her grandfather didn’t answer. He just took another step forward and pointed to me and Finch. “Let them go.”
“Well, then give me Tomas.”
Grandpa Nowak nodded to Cat, who bit her lip. She looked up at the mammoth-sized Tomas. “Don’t kick me, okay? I happen to enjoy having all my teeth.”
Tomas didn’t answer. Cat looked at the mass of duct tape around his feet and patted her pockets. Then, she looked around at the rest of us. “Anyone have a knife? Something to cut this with?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Kowalski said, stomping forward. He pulled a knife out of his back pocket and zipped it up between Thomas’s legs. He ripped the duct tape off and dragged Tomas toward us.
“You let them hold you hostage? What the fuck is wrong with you? An old man and two incompetent women were able to kidnap Tomas Kowalski? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
I fought to keep the grin off my face. A Unibrow pushed me forward, and Finch and I walked to Cat. It was almost over. Cat’s eyes were shining as she stood there. Finally, when I was a couple steps away, she ran toward me and threw her arms around me.
“Oh, Bennett,” she said, and then she untied the gag from the back of my head. I breathed a sigh of relief, and then I kissed her like my life depended on it. I didn’t care about Kowalski, her grandfather, the Unibrows or Finch.
I loved this woman, and she’d just rescued me from the Polish mob. Somehow, despite all odds, she’d saved me from getting beaten to a pulp and dumped at the bottom of the ocean.
I could have kissed her until the end of time, until someone shouted beside me and Tony Kowalski started chuckling.
“Isn’t that nice,” he said. “How romantic. I’m honored to have witnessed this little reunion.”
I turned to see Shorty Nowak thrown over the shoulder of Unibrow #1, who was stalking back toward their car. Cat froze in my arms, and I could feel the horror icing her veins. Her eyes widened and then before I could stop her, she took off running toward them, only to be stopped by another one of Kowalski’s men.
She slammed into the man, kicking and scratching as he held her back. She screamed, her pain piercing through my heart as she watched her grandfather be hauled off to the car that she’d just saved me from.
“Stop!” She yelled. “Don’t!”
“This is over, now, Senator,” Kowalski said. “I got what I wanted.”
Grandpa Nowak looked calm—almost serene. He glanced up at Cat and blinked once as if to say, don’t worry, I’ll be fine.
Cat screamed again, and everyone flinched. Kowalski’s man was still holding her back as she thrashed against him, trying to get to her grandfather.
“Stop,” she screamed again. Panic made her eyes bulge. Every vein in her neck was popping and I took a step in her direction. My hands were still tied, Finch was bound and gagged, and Maribel was sitting uselessly behind the wheel of the car.
With every step that the Unibrow took, Shorty Nowak was carried further away. Every thump of his boots on the concrete was like a nail in Shorty’s coffin, and every single one of them made Cat flinch.
When they set Shorty down next to the car, I knew it was over. Kowalski had gotten what he wanted. Everything else had been a ruse. And by the look on Shorty’s face, he knew it, too. He came here knowing that Kowalski would want him, and he sacrificed himself for his granddaughter.
Tears streamed down her face as she struggled against the man holding her back. Short
y stood next to Kowalski’s car, staring at her. He smiled sadly.
“Stop,” Cat screeched, her voice breaking as she screamed the word for the hundredth time. Her pain and despair were killing me slowly.
But there was nothing I could do. They had guns, and I had nothing. There were ten of them, and four of us—two of which were still tied up.
I was completely powerless. Impotent. Useless.
Cat came to that realization at the same time I did. She slumped against Kowalski’s man, thumping his chest weakly with her fist. She sniffled, staggering backwards.
It was over. Kowalski got what he wanted, and we had lost.
Cat put her hands to her head, inhaling sharply as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. Despair gripped us both as she watched the Unibrow open the car door and shove her grandfather inside..
“Gramps,” she whispered.
Instead of answering, her grandfather glanced toward the shipping containers, and that’s when I saw it. Movement.
People.
37
Cat
A man stepped out from between the shipping containers, followed by dozens of others. They came out of the woodwork, angry and armed as they advanced toward us.
I would have been scared, but Gramps was smiling, and the men were staring at the Kowalski crew. One of them stepped out from beside a container next to me and nodded.
“Let him go, Kowalski,” the man said, stepping forward. The newcomers formed a ring around us. They held their weapons in plain sight, puffing their chests up enough to make the Kowalski men glance at each other in fear. No one moved.
The man beside me growled. “Kowalski,” he barked. “Bring the old man back to me. Now.”
Kowalski hesitated, and the ring of men around us bristled. Then, he nodded slightly and Gramps was carried back toward me on the same shoulder that hauled him away. He was dumped unceremoniously, and I caught him before he fell. I wrapped my arms around him, tears still streaming down my face.
The Protector: The Complete C.I.A. Romance Series Page 35