Chapter Eight
Jaime braced for the bullet's impact, but it didn't come. She saw, rather than felt, the dart hit her newly-bionic hip and went with it, trying to fake him out by feigning severe grogginess. "Why, Roger...?" she murmured, fluttering her eyelids as though they were very heavy.
Roger glanced in the rear view mirror, saw he was being followed and swore to himself as he stepped on the gas. "Hated to have to do that to you, Honey," he said in a deceivingly gentle voice. "You're too confused right now to know what you really want, and I can't have you running back to the wrong wedding, now, can I?" He laughed bitterly. "We talked about getting married once – do you remember?"
"Long...time...ago..." Jaime slurred. Her eyes were closed now, giving no indication that she was fully alert.
"You said you loved me, then – Boom! - you just up and left. I sure as hell loved you; I still love you! I could've died trying to get you out of that fire last year! And even after that, you thank me by running back to that Ken-Doll-on-steroids you thought you were gonna marry."
In spite of picking up his speed and taking several abrupt, sharp turns, he still hadn't lost the car that was almost right on his bumper. "Dammit!" He wrenched the steering wheel hard and managed to make a near-U-turn into an alley across the way. The limo skidded, taking out several garbage cans and a mailbox, but kept on going even faster than before.
"I knew you wouldn't come back to me on your own," Roger continued, glancing at his 'unconscious' prisoner. "The only way to get you was to make you believe Loverboy was in danger – and it almost worked, too! But then hejust had to butt in where he didn't belong, and you know what? The only thing he accomplished was a nasty bump on the head for your real limo driver. Don't worry – I didn't kill him. Not yet, anyway..."
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Oscar and Steve were just about to leave for the chapel when Oscar's datacom crackled to life, on the NSB channel. The security team quickly told Hansen (already at the chapel) about the limo's unexpected detour and erratic actions. Oscar jumped onto the frequency as Steve put his fist through the coffee table.
"This is Goldman – we're going after the limo. What is your current location?" The team gave him the rapidly-changing address. "Alright; keep me updated until we can find you." He and Steve ran to the car and Oscar thanked Providence that he had one of the best drivers in the OSI pool. When they were still several blocks from the limo and the NSB team, they could already hear the screeching of two sets of tires and the squealing of brakes as the bigger car desperately tried to evade the smaller one.
"There they are!" Steve called to the driver, spotting the limo on a side street. "Get ahead and cut them off!" Two other cars full of NSB and OSI team members, also in close pursuit, had the same idea, and within minutes, one car pulled into the intersection from either side and the team behind the limo spun itself sideways, completely blocking every escape route.
Steve was the first one out of a car, and his eye focused on the driver through the limo's front windshield. "Oscar, it's Roger Grette!" He couldn't see Jaime, who was slumped over in the backseat, still faking unconsciousness.
The driver's door flew open and Roger jumped out, then opened the rear door and yanked Jaime from the limo. Steve was heartsick to see her limp body in Roger's arms as the madman shifted her in front of himself as a human shield. A fast zoom-in with his left eye told him Jaime was breathing and he began to breathe again himself.
"You don't deserve her, Austin!" Roger yelled, pulling a real gun from his pocket and pressing it to Jaime's head. "She was supposed to marry me, and if you want her to live, you'll get these cars outta here and let us through."
"Do you think you can force her to love you – at gunpoint?" Steve challenged.
"No, but once she's away from you, she'll come to her senses, then she'll be my bride!"
Steve played their ace-in-the-hole; it was time. "You can't marry her. She's already married, Roger – to me."
"What? You're lying!" Roger was thrown off his game for a split-second, and that was all it took. Jaime felt his grip loosen slightly and she drew back her right arm and elbowed him in the stomach. As he was going down, she grabbed his arm and forced the gun from his hand.
"I really feel sorry for you," Jaime said softly, as she moved into the comfort and warmth of Steve's arms. She finally reached down, removed the dart from her hip and tossed it to the ground, smashing it underfoot. While Roger gasped for air, Jaime turned and kissed her husband fully on the lips. "I believe we have a wedding to attend, Colonel."
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