Ten
"Find him?" Eric asks coyly as he reaches into his jacket pocket for a cigarette, "He has to come back here eventually." His hand shakes slightly as he lights the cigarette. Martin nods his head as he passes Albert on the right motioning for Eric to give him a cigarette.
As Albert turns to face his subordinates, he absentmindedly releases his hold on Alex's arm. "You're afraid of him," he states, looking from Eric to Martin who have their heads bow downed, "Both of you."
The sound of the gunshot and Albert falling to the floor, for just a moment, cause everyone in the room to freeze. Before Alex has a chance to move, someone has an arm around her waist and that arm is pulling her out of the room; her feet practically leave the floor. "Don't talk," he says sternly as he takes a hold of her hand. He shuts the door with his foot, "Just run!"
She has a difficult time keeping up with his pace but she manages, they do hear a voice, bellow, "Don't just stand there, get them!" Bobby recognizes the voice, Victor.
"The Ferrari!" He exclaims as he releases his hold of her hand. The key is in the ignition and the engine is racing before she opens the front passenger door. First gear, second gear then third, tires screeching along the way. Once off the property he can see in the rearview mirror headlights behind them. "It's probably Eric and Martin. In Eric's car," his chuckle is a bit disturbing to her until he says, "Eric's VW." She joins him in the chuckle
Though a VW is in pursuit Alex grabs a hold of the dashboard as she watches the speedometer go higher and higher, "Bobby where are we going?" She asks with a shaky voice.
He changes lanes passing two cars as if they are standing still, "I have no idea." He changes lanes again and passes three cars, "Did you call Angela?" He manages to ask.
"What?" Her knuckles are turning white.
"Angela, did you call her?"
"Yes, I just disconnected the phone when they came in." She releases one hand from the dashboard shaking it, in the hopes that feeling in her hand will come back. She keeps a steady eye on the speedometer, "I….put a light on." She grabs the dashboard with two hands again.
"What?" He asks as he takes his eyes off the road before him for only a moment.
"I said I put a light on," she says regretting her actions. "Eric and Martin saw it, I didn't think anyone was outside, I'm sorry Bobby."
"Too late for apologies," he pats her arm gently, "It's alright, I mean forget it."
She turns her head to the rear of the car, "Bobby I think you've lost them." He continues at his current rate of speed, "Bobby! You can slow down now!" She says commanding. Slowly he releases the foot pressure on the gas pedal. He steers the car to the side of road and turns off the ignition.
He touches her arm, gently, "Are you alright?"
"Yes I'm fine." She releases her hold of the dashboard, reaches across her seat to his waiting arms.
"Are you sure? Did he do anything?" He kisses the top of her head.
"No," she shakes her head still in his embrace. "Bobby?"
"Yes," he squeezes her gently.
"Where were you?" she says slightly sobbing.
"I was on my way to the cottage to get you, as I came around the side of the house I saw you with Eric and Martin. I went into the house through the back door and got my gun."
"If you didn't go back…." She holds him tighter.
"Ok, it's over and you're safe," he pauses taking a gaze out the rear window. "I have to go back."
"What? Why?"
"Run, I have never run away from a confrontation in my life." He turns the key. "I'll drop you off at that diner, over there." He motions with his head toward the semi-crowded eatery.
She grabs his arm, "Start the car and drive there but I'm not getting out." She releases her hold on his arm and sits back crossing her arms in a defiant pose, "I'm going with you," she states plainly.
Shaking his head, "No you're not….I'm not going to argue with you." He bites his lip as he notices the determined look on her face, and the memory that she is a New York City Police Detective. She is about to retaliate but she stops as she watches him reach across her side of the car and open the glove box, "Here," he places a .32 on her lap. "Let's go Detective."
When they return to the mansion Angela, FBI agents and NYPD officers are everywhere. They walk through the crowd and enter the room that they recently fled, hand in hand. Albert's body covered with a sheet and Angela is sitting in Victor's chair sifting through the papers that lie on his desk. She looks up as she feels someone staring.
"Where were you?" Angela asks keeping her head down.
"We, ah went for a ride, with Eric and Martin following, where they end up is anyone guess, ah….they were small potatoes."
Angela continues to read the papers, she looks up and catches Bobby's eye. She smiles at the couple standing before her hand in hand; I hope everything works out for them. She returns to sight-reading the papers before her, "Everything is here," she picks up a few pieces of paper. "Everything we need to put these people away for ever." She sets the papers down as she sits back in the chair. "My God Victor was a methodical person, why he left a paper trail?" She shakes her head.
Bobby releases Alex's hand, "His ego and his cockiest was as big as Russia itself, he thought he was invincible and we as mere mortals would never be able to crush his operation," he pauses as he picks up a sheet of paper. "He thought he was always smarter and shrewder." Glancing at the paper quickly, "Victor's paranoia and insecurity is what brought down this organization. He spent more time worrying about who he could trust then taking care of business." Bobby walks toward a shelf set behind Angela. He pulls out two books as Alex and Angela watch him intently; he tosses one of the books on the desk, "Victor lived in the past."
The women scan the room quickly; they say simultaneously, "No computer."
Bobby nods is head as he continues, "Every transport of cargo, which he so lovingly called the girls are in these books, names, dates and...." he opens the book in his hand, "Photos of every girl that he ever brought over." He pauses for a minute as he scans through the photos. "This is how he picked his girls; he knew before hand who he wanted and who he did not."
Two agents are leading Victor out of the room, he catches Bobby's eye as he screams repeatedly, something is Russian.
"What did he say?" Alex asks.
"He said that if there was anyone who would and could bring him down, he's glad it was me." He takes a hold of Alex's hand, "Angela do you need us here?"
"No, but I want to see you Monday, my office at 9 am, you too Detective."
"We'll be there," he tugs on her arm gently. "Come on let's go."
As they turn to the right to leave the room, Alex notices the still, sheet covered body of Albert. She points as she turns her attention to Angela, "Albert was the killer of the four women, up in his bedroom are photos of all the girls and future ones. But I guess all that really doesn't matter now."
"Yes it does, justice," Bobby says as he leads her by the hand out of the room and out the front door.
"What do you do now?" Alex asks as they walk down the front steps.
He exhales, "Well first I usually go home and take a shower for about a week to remove the scum. Then I get dressed up, suit and tie, if you can imagine me in one?" He kisses her cheek when he notices her smile. "Go to Sharp's, for not only the biggest steak but the best, then I get drunk and sleep for a month." He opens the driver's side door of the Ferrari.
She laughs and understands, she may have worked undercover before but nothing like this an experience that she will remember forever. Alex frowns, "This is your car?" she asks remaining on the walkway.
He stands erect, as he closes the door, "Ah no, I don't have a car here." They both exchange a frown, "Cab." They say simultaneously. "Do you have the cell phone I gave you?"
"No, Albert took it."
"Shit," he says exasperated, "I'll be right back."
He returns moments later, "Cab is on the way," he says as he exits the home, "Let's walk down to the end of the driveway."
As they walk slowly down the long driveway hand in hand, Bobby asks, "So Alex, want to join me?"
"For dinner?"
He releases his hold of her hand and places his arm around her shoulder, "Well," he pauses. "I was thinking all of them."
She nods her head slowly, "Yes," she answers barely above a whisper.
He frowns, "What?"
She cuts him off, "You know, I have never, you know...after only knowing someone for ten days."
He would love to agree but he can't lie, he stops walking and turns to face her, "I meant what I said, I have never felt a connection with someone so fast and so intense before in my life." He caresses her cheek with his hand. She blushes slightly then she links her arm in his. They continue their journey down the long driveway.
"You made me feel safe but it was more than that you really seemed to care. And I have to admit that falling for someone like you was exciting."
"And now?"
She has to smile, "Well I am sort of relieved that you are not a criminal. Everyday I went through this scenario in my mind, Mom, Dad...Oh did I mention the fact that my father was a cop."
He starts to laugh, "So what? You were playing at being a rebel?"
"No, I did that in my twenties."
"Have some interesting stories to tell me?"
"No, not really, all in all I was a good kid, haven't changed that much." Her smile turns to a frown when not only does he remain silent she notices the white pallor on his face. "Bobby," she tugs on his arm, "What's the matter?"
He turns his head away gazing down the dark street, "Where the hell is that cab?"
"Tell me, what's the matter?"
He releases his hold and stuffs his hands deep into his pockets, staring out into space, "I ah...I never shot...I never killed anyone before and I'm ashamed to admit that it was...." He catches her eye, "It seemed too easy and it scares me a bit."
She caresses his cheek with her hand, "I can understand that, but let's say it plainly it was either him or us."
He takes a step back, "That's easy for you to say, have you ever shot anyone?"
"No I haven't and it is my hope that I never have to." She points to the left, "There's the cab, I think."
The headlights get closer, he takes her hand in his, "Yes it is." He escorts her the few feet toward the car, opening the rear passenger door for her. She enters the vehicle first and he follows close behind.
"Where to?" The driver asks.
"Good question," Bobby answers as he drapes his arm around her shoulder, "It's your choice."
"27 Beach Crest, Rockaway." Alex says quickly.
"You got it," the driver responds then switches the gear to drive.
She notices his frown, "I want to pick up a change of clothes, that's all." He flashes a broad smile as she adjusts herself in the seat, "When can I go back and get my stuff?"
"In a few days, Angela and her posse have a big house to search."
"Are you going back?"
"To search?"
"Yes."
"No, I just need to pick up my stuff." He slumps in the seat stretching his long legs as far as he can. "So how long have you lived in Rockaway?"
The familiarity and security of ones home has never been so inviting. Alex's home, decorated with soft tones gives off a feeling of warmth, not like his stark and mostly vacant apartment. They never left Alex's house that night, they ordered in a pizza, drank a few beers and fell asleep in each other's arm. Yes, ones living room rug and home made quilt do make for a comfortable slumber.
A/N: It appears to me from the responses or lack of them, from the last chapter that many of you weren't upset that Alex may not survive this ordeal. I did toy with the idea of her demise for a bit but then decided NAH; I can't change my signature ending of happy.
Did I make the right choice? Because I still have the sad ending waiting in the wings.
That's all for now....