Chapter 11 - Reign of Terror

As Lee was entering the house, Champlain was bringing the scalpel closer to Rachael. With his right hand, he pinned her neck against the headboard, his thumb digging deeply into her windpipe. He held his thumb there until she struggled to breathe. Rachael fought against panic, not Champlain, not just yet. She had a plan. Whether she would have the breath to execute it was the question.

He positioned the scalpel high up her arm, ready to carve the number "4". He touched the scalpel to her arm and slowly began a downward cut. "I'm impressed at your resolve, Commander, but I assure you that you won't be able to keep it up when I get to the real work of flaying you."

Rachael watched passively as he next carved the small horizontal bar for the four, squelching the desire to cry out at the shallow cutting. Champlain turned his knife vertical to begin the long downward stroke of the back of the number. As soon as the scalpel broke skin, Rachael committed.

She'd come up with two options. She could bring the cuffed arms up towards her right in an attempt to dislodge the scalpel. However, Champlain's hand at her throat might effectively block her arms and even if she got the hit in, the scalpel might not dislodge from his hand. Taking the scalpel out of his hands was the only way she'd survive. It was that with which he killed. The second option stood a better chance of success. It had one major flaw. It was going to hurt a lot.

Rachael used every bit of energy she had to thrust her head and torso into Champlain, leaning slightly to the right to maximize contact. Her forehead bounced off his, sending her head into a reel, at the same time the scalpel plunged deeply into her upper right arm and stuck. She let out a scream.

Taking advantage of Champlain's momentary surprise and loss of weapon, and before the adrenalin wore off, she brought her cuffed arms rapidly up into his chin. Champlain fell backwards several feet. Rachael swung off the bed and hobbled toward the door, with both her downed pants and the cuffs fighting her efforts. In moments, Champlain was pulling at her from the back, trying to turn her to get at the scalpel. All Rachael could do was to come at him again using her head and upper torso. Whatever she did, it was essential she keep the scalpel out of his reach. She flung her upper body and head sideways into him, knocking him back a little again, but she was in trouble. Dizziness was overtaking her. She couldn't keep up the fight much longer.

Lee heard the scream just as he reached the bedroom door. He had his gun ready to fire as soon as he kicked open the door. The first thing he saw was his fiancée's naked bottom. A trail of blood streamed down the side of her right arm. Opposite Rachael, preparing to lunge at her — clearly not for the first time — was not Raul Olivera, but a man he didn't recognize. Lee's heart sank thinking of what had happened to Rachael, consoled only by the fact she was still fighting. He would finish it for her now.

"Move away from her now!"

Rachael imagined that beneath the pounding of her skull she heard Lee's voice as Richard Champlain thrust towards her. If only it was real and not what she wanted to be real, she thought. Blood loss, a head wound, and lack of breath made everything hazy. "Please don't let me pass out now!" she cried.

"I won't, Red."

Rachael heard a gunshot and then saw blood blossom out of Champlain's upper chest as he fell to the floor in front of her. She spun around quickly, too quickly, tripping over her cuffed legs. "Or hallucinate either," she added seeing Lee's lanky body hovering over her.

Lee kneeled down over her and caressed her face reassuringly. "I'm the real deal, Red. You're a mess."

"Not as bad as it looks."

"A bloody forehead, a knife stuck in your arm?"

"Kind of self-inflicted. Only way I could get it away from him."

"And what about your pants?"

"I was drugged a lot. You know I hate to sleep in pants."

"Well, I certainly didn't know that, Commander. Lee, get down!"

Harriman Nelson fired three shots barely above Lee's head as Lee tucked protectively over Rachael. Richard Champlain was preparing to tackle them.

"Jesus," Nelson said when he caught sight of the body on the bed. He turned away and vomited.

Lee rose up and for the first time saw the body on the bed. He turned back to Rachael quickly. "Admiral, could you give us a couple of minutes? Maybe find a first aid kit and a blanket for her?"

Nelson, shielding his gaze away from the bed, grabbed a stack of towels from the bathroom. "That's all I could find. I'll run and see what kind of help we can get from the rangers. Rachael, it would be best not to pull the scalpel out."

"Sure, bring me another giant hit of Seconal and it'll be a piece of cake." Rachael was already reaching for it. Lee's arm held her left hand away.

"Admiral, maybe you can find something to pop the cuffs too?"

"I'll, uh, look into all those things. Son, maybe you should move her elsewhere?"

"Not before you pull up my pants."

"They're all tangled with the cuffs. I can't get them to budge."

"Come on, you dope, I've seen you take the pants off a dead man."

"I'm not the one who got kidnapped, so don't call me a dope. And what's with the Scooby Doo pajamas? That's so not your style."

"Why do you reek like stale fish?"

"Oh, like you smell minty fresh and clean."

Lee placed a bath towel around Rachael's torso and tucked it gently beneath her.

"You choose to get fresh now, Curly?"

"Rach, enough with the jokes. What the hell's going on here? We were pretty certain that Rosalia's ex-boyfriend took you, but this guy, who the hell is he?"

"If you hadn't shown up, I was about to become victim number four of Richard Champlain aka the Red Menace. No, that's wrong. Victim four who fit the pattern. My female kidnapper was his real fourth, but he etched her as 3 1/2. She should be indignant about that."

"That's not funny, Red. This is horrific."

"You're telling me? I was here first and if I need to resort to some goddamn gallows humor to cope, you can cut me a break maybe?"

"Sorry, I should have realized."

"I mean, I could have, I was inches from that other crazy place. I could go there, you know, any minute." Rachael's eyes had begun to tear up in release.

"You'll be getting professional help promptly, I assure you."

"Lee, be honest with me. Is Rosalia still here? Are our babies okay?"

"She's in the hospital. She wasn't hurt, it's just the preeclampsia. She was holding stable last I heard. Dr. Ostroff has guarded her like a momma bear, but she's definitely going to have to answer some serious questions soon. You too, for not telling me it's twins."

"I thought you'd appreciate the surprise and worry less. Look, I know the male kidnapper was her ex. I don't know if she was forced or persuaded to collude, but I don't believe she ever intended for me to be hurt."

"Nice of you to defend her given your current state. Can you tell me how this went from a kidnapping to . . . to this?"

"Double bad luck."

"You specialize in that. I take it that you don't want to tell me the details now."

"I'd rather see some paramedics with a large needle full of morphine."

"Soon."

"Okay, my turn for a question?"

"As long as it isn't what took me so long to find you?"

"I'll save that one for Saul. No, it's an easy one. What was I worth?"

"Worth? Incalculable."

"Good answer. But what was my ransom?"

"One million dollars. In twenties."

"Did you pay?"

"Nelson did. I have assets that might approach that, but not cash, and not ones that I could turn liquid that fast."

"Damn, I should marry him for his money."

"Hey, I carried it. Do you know what a million in twenties weighs?"

"Less than me."

"Should I interpret that as a request to repair to a different room?"

"Yes, the accommodations here are beginning to be tiring. I'd like something a little more . . ."

"Sterile would be a good choice. The hospital, perhaps?"

"I'm thinking, maybe if you don't mind, I'd like to wake up there." Rachael's eyes closed as she finished the sentence.

Lee carried her out to a sofa in the living room. He wrapped a clean towel around the arm wound and clamped down on her wrist with his left hand, while reaching across her body with his right hand to hold down her left arm. Sooner or later she would attempt to pull that blade out.

"I see that I'm late to the party," Saul said. "How is she besides the obvious?"

"In remarkably good spirits."

"That's worrisome."

"No, I think it's just relief that the worst didn't happen, at least not to her."

"Did she tell you much before she went out?"

"Enough. You have keys that will open these?"

"Try these. One is certain to do the trick."

"Tell me what she told you."

"I have a better idea. Why don't you go down that way, and open the first door on the left? I think you'll ascertain the situation quickly."

"Okay, I'll take the bait. A paramedic should be right behind me."

Lee muttered under his breath. "Good, because you might need one in about ten seconds. Thanks for hanging her out there like a red flag!" Oh, that was bad, Lee thought, a very bad pun indeed. Lee felt a little guilty too. Saul cared for Rachael just as much as Lee, if differently. Then again, a little puking couldn't hurt him that much.

"May we, sir?"

"This is the only major wound, maybe a mild concussion too," Lee said.

"Are you certain, sir?" The paramedic's glance at her lower body covered by a towel with the pants down by the cuffs gave away his thoughts.

"Yes, if that had happened, we'd have found a different woman."

"I don't understand, sir."

"Be glad you don't. How about you stabilize that wound and we get her out of this hellhole as quickly as possible, if you please?"