Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to Janet Evanovich except the ones that are mine, and I'm just playing.
Warnings: All 12 books.
A/N: Special thanks to my Dream Team: Super Karen my fabulous Editor, Luisa, Brain Stormer and Translator Extraordinario, and Lindsay my Voice of Reason, Lisa for making me laugh, and all the BC & PP & BCRUS Babes for support, friendship, suggestions, hand holding, cheer leading and general ass kicking. I love you all!
Thank you to all of you wonderful readers and reviewers! I've tried to answer each and every review that you've sent. You've all made my Inner Review Slut very happy!
Don't forget to read Kashy's fabulous 'Keep The Faith' … you don't want to miss it! Read and review them please, you'll be glad you did!
The Name Of The Game!
By Stayce (XJerseyGirl)
Chapter 36: Minefield!
Stephanie pulled out of Yuri's arms and stumbled back across the room, putting some much needed space between them. She turned her back on him and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, unable to suppress the shudder that went through her. He had shoved his tongue halfway down her throat and now he just stood there, laughing at her.
She gritted her teeth and fought against the overwhelming urge to kick him in the balls, pep talking herself into finally admitting that she had to restrain herself, especially if she wanted to get any information out of him. She knew that now wasn't the time to get even, but she really owed him one, and someday … someday, she was going to make sure he collected!
It took a few long seconds to control her gag reflex and she distracted herself by wrapping her robe tightly around her body and tying the belt securely with a double knot. Taking a deep breath, she turned to glare at him, forcing herself to play the game.
"I said one kiss, Yuri" she spat at him. "And I know you can count. You cheated and I don't like cheaters," she said petulantly, as she folded her arms over her chest and put on a pouty face. She tapped her toe in irritation, "I think you should leave now."
"Oh ljubimec, I didn't cheat," he said with a cocky smile, "I told you, a name for a kiss." He leaned against the doorframe and smirked at her, obviously proud of how clever he thought he was. "I just didn't tell you how many names there were."
As the full meaning of his words hit her, Stephanie swallowed against the bile that rose in her throat and gaped at him in surprise. She had been so relieved when he had whispered the name of the traitor to her… Che. Che was Hector and he was pretending to betray Ramon to try to find out when and how the Russians planned on carrying out their double cross.
But this, this was different, whoever this was, he was a real threat. She finally found her voice and choked out, "Oh my God, Yuri! You mean there's more than one?"
Yuri gave her a nod and a pleased-with-himself smile, "Oh yes," he said proudly, "I worked real hard to find out which men in Ramon's inner circle were fed up with him being a control freak. There are a couple who can't wait to take care of that problem. As soon as we're sure we don't need him anymore…" he made a cutting motion across his throat.
Steph froze as her brain went into overdrive. One traitor in the group would be bad enough, but the possibility of more of them, all conspiring against Ramon, was terrifying. Ranger was risking everything for this mission, had given up everything; he had become so immersed in Ramon that he had almost lost himself. It was ironic that we were all so worried that Ramon's men would find out that Ranger was an impersonator. Now, the fact that he had fooled them all was what would sign his death warrant.
She forced herself out of her stupor. "Come on, tell me who it is!" Steph wheedled. "No more teasing. I HATE being teased." She stamped her foot and planted her fists on her hips, glaring at him. "You had your kiss, now you have to give me the name."
He smiled at her and shook his head indulgently, "Alright Sasha, I can't refuse you anything. It's Manny Hernandez. Do you know who he is?"
She stared at him, openmouthed. "Of course I do!"
Tank had filled her in on Hernandez. Manny was one of Ramon's most trusted advisors, one of his trusted inner circle. Hernandez was in charge of the transportation crew. They were the guys that took care of all the international shipping for Ramon's organization. Manny and Ramon had developed a network of connections that allowed them to move anything to anywhere on earth with a single phone call. A huge part of Ramon's entire operation depended on Hernandez and although Manny worked for Ramon, the transportation crew worked for Manny. If Manny ordered a hit on Ramon, Ranger was a dead man.
Her heart stuttered in her chest. She knew that she'd have to handle Yuri very carefully and that she'd have to be very, very convincing and be just as good an actor as Ranger had turned out to be. Yuri was an ass and his Achilles heel was his ego. She needed to play on that inflated ego, to flirt and flatter him, lead him on, to let him brag and preen and act like he was impressing her until she got everything she could out of him.
It suddenly struck her that she was in as dangerous a position as Ranger was. She couldn't afford to take one false step or she'd bring all their plans crashing down around their ears … and probably wind up dead herself. If she was smart she'd pack her bags and run back to Trenton and safety as fast as she could … but this was what she had stayed in Brighton Beach for … and she wasn't going anywhere … not without Ranger.
She swallowed hard and plastered a smile on her face. "Oh Yuri, I don't believe it!" she gushed as she crossed the room to him and grabbed his arm. "Hernandez is an important man and Ramon depends on him. How did you get him to agree to work with you? What did you say to him that made him willing to stab Ramon in the back? You must have made him one hell of an offer!" She looked up at him like she thought he was the smartest guy on the planet.
When Yuri puffed out his chest Stephanie knew she had him hooked. "He said that he was tired of doing all the dirty work and only getting a cut of the take." Yuri shrugged nonchalantly, "I offered him three times what Ramon was going to pay him for this job and told him that once we got rid of Ramon, he'd have a full partnership. Money buys loyalty, Little One, and I don't mind paying for it. I think that Manny and I will have a very lucrative working relationship when I take over Ramon's organization."
He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her toward him, "I told you that soon I would be a very rich man. I'll be rich and important and powerful… and I'll be able to afford you!"
He bent his head to kiss her, but she straight armed him, with her hands flat on his chest, holding him off. She looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Wait a minute, Yuri, all this sounds a little too good to be true!" she said suspiciously. "It's going to take a lot more than a few empty promises that someday you're gonna be rich and powerful for me to believe you. You're telling me that you're just gonna get rid of Ramon and take over his worldwide operation? Why should I believe you? How do I know it's the truth? You're gonna have to prove it!"
His smile faded as he looked down at her, and anger flashed across his face as his fingers curled tightly into her shoulders. "I don't think that you're in any position to make demands, Sasha." He ran his hands along her shoulders to her throat and wrapped them around her neck. He tightened his grip just enough to let her know he was serious and gave her a sharp shake. He didn't really hurt her, but Stephanie knew it was a warning.
Yuri got off on beating up people, especially women, everybody knew it. He had a steady stream of girlfriends in Brighton Beach who paraded through the restaurant, sporting the fur coats and jewelry and black eyes and split lips that he had given them. He may be a jackass where his ego was concerned, but he was a very dangerous jackass, and Stephanie realized that she was pushing her luck.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught a small movement out on the fire escape. Max, was crouching there, watching them through the window, gun in hand. Stephanie might have been more cautious if she had been all alone, but knowing that Max was covering her gave her courage a boost.
"I'm not making demands, Yuri. But a girl's gotta look out for herself. How do I know that you're telling me the truth and not just making this all up so that you can get into my bed?"
He studied her for a minute, finally relenting and loosening his grip when he saw that she wasn't intimidated by him. He gave her his snake smile and ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms. "So, how am I supposed to prove it to you now? I don't have a body to show you … yet!"
Stephanie chewed her lip, trying to look like she was thinking about how to answer. She gave a little gasp, like she had gotten an idea and let a slow, sly smile spread across her face. She tipped her head to the side, moving closer to Yuri and molded her body against his. Reaching out to play with a button on his shirt as she ran the tip of her tongue over her lips, she looked up at him through her eyelashes as she slid her arms around his waist.
"I know how," she whispered. "You have to tell me the whole plan, when it's going to happen, where you'll do it, how you're going to kill him. I want to know everything." She made her breathing sound ragged and she licked her lips again, "You have no idea how it excites me … thinking about you killing a man like Ramon? You don't know how much that turns me on!"
Yuri looked down at her in surprise, then a slow evil smile spread over his face. "I underestimated you, Sasha. You look like this sweet, sexy, little girl but you really are a bloodthirsty little thing, aren't you? I'll bet you'd like to pull the trigger yourself, wouldn't you?"
She looked up into his eyes, praying that her true feelings weren't written all over her face. "Is that how you're gonna do it? Shoot him?" she said breathlessly. "And you're right … you have no idea how much I wish I had a gun in my hands right now!" she said truthfully.
He laughed and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Do you want all the gory details or do you want me to take pictures?" he nipped her ear lobe. "Maybe you want me to bring you a souvenir? What will it be? His finger, an ear, that ponytail of his?"
She shook her head, "No! I want the signet ring he wears. When you put that ring on my finger, Yuri, I'll be all yours for the taking. And Yuri … I like being taken." She fisted her hand in his hair, pulled his head down and kissed him long and hard, biting his lower lip until she tasted blood. Yeah, she thought, she was getting to be a really good actress. She deserved an Oscar for this one!
She broke the kiss and moved toward the door, intending to get rid of him. When Yuri didn't move, she realized he had other plans. He leered down at her and grabbed her by the collar of her robe, trying to back her across the small room toward her bed. "I think I should tell you about the whole plan right now. I'll give you all the details you want."
Fear suddenly coiled in the pit of her stomach. She had poked the tiger once too often, and now he was ready to bite. Yuri's lips were curled back from his teeth and his icy blue eyes were darkened with lust as he put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a hard shove. She staggered backwards, falling onto the bed. He was on her immediately, leaning over her, tearing at her clothes while he tried to force his knee between her legs.
He pinned her onto the bed by his weight and bent down, trying to kiss her but she turned her head and twisted her face away from him. "Come on, Sasha, give me a little taste of what Ramon gets." His mouth settled on her neck, kissing and licking. Finally getting a hand free, she reached out for something, anything to use against him and found the small alarm clock on the night stand. Wrapping her fingers around it, she brought it down on the back of his head as hard as she could.
With a howl of pain and a string of curses, Yuri pulled back, straddling her, and raised his hand to slap her. She crossed her arms over her face defensively. "Are you crazy? Leave a mark on me and Ramon will kill you with his bare hands!"
Yuri stilled, slowly lowering his hand. He didn't get off of her, just stayed there, rubbing the back of his head and staring down at her.
"I'm not taking any chances," she told him, uncovering her face. "He calls me every night and I told you that he's having me watched. He probably has some of his men following you, too! If they saw you come in and you stay here too long, Ramon'll know what's going on and we'll both be dead! You know how jealous he is!"
Yuri hesitated and she barreled on, saying anything that came into her head to get him off her. "The other night one of Ramon's flunkies put his hand on my ass and Ramon went ballistic … sliced him up bad. Nobody's seen the kid since and I think he's probably in a landfill someplace."
Yuri slid off of her and Steph got up, wrapping her arms around herself. She faked a shudder, laying it on as thick as she dared. "I tried to cover for him, I mean he was just a kid. But Ramon knew I was lying and he said if I ever cheated on him, he'd cut my face up so bad, I'd make him look handsome. I'm not taking any chances and you shouldn't either, Ramon already hates you because of the way you look at me! Ramon's real possessive, you know."
Yuri stood up and followed her across the room, still not saying anything. Steph held her breath, hoping her story had worked. Yuri was clearly terrified of Ramon's skill with a knife. Ever since Che had told him the story about Ramon cutting a man's heart out so fast he held it in his hand while it was still beating, Yuri had been scared to death of him.
Now he stiffened and stepped back from her, giving her a small, tight smile, "Once Ramon is out of the way, we'll have plenty of time together. We need to be careful now so you'll just have to be patient a little while longer, sweetheart. Then I'll make you a very happy woman!" His weak attempt at false bravado almost made her laugh.
She tried to act disappointed and gave him a sad nod, "You're absolutely right, Yuri. We can't afford to take any chances. Not now that you're so close to getting everything that you want. You wouldn't want to wake up one morning and find yourself gutted like a fish."
Yuri turned and headed for the door, wrestling with the sticky lock as he tried to get it open. As if on cue, her cell phone rang. She picked it up off the table and looked at the caller ID, mouthing 'Ramon' to Yuri.
She flipped the phone open, "Hello, Lover," she purred into the phone.
"Get him the hell out of there; I'm freezing to death out here, it's sleeting and I'm starting to look like an ice sculpture!" She could hear Max's teeth chattering.
"Honestly, Ramon, nothing is going on. Yuri stopped by to give me the new work schedule and we were just talking about … um … about the new menu." She turned to Yuri, trying to look wide-eyed and scared.
"I can't feel my feet and I'm getting frostbite! Hurry up, and get rid of him, I need to get inside and thaw out now! I've got icicles hanging off body parts that are near and dear to me," Max hissed.
"Ramon, you know I love you … No! Nothing's going on. Please believe me … He's just leaving … do you want to talk to him? Okay … here he is …"
She held out the phone to Yuri who took one look at it and shook his head, 'No'. He turned an odd shade of green as he fumbled with the doorknob in his haste to get out of there.
Stephanie watched as he practically sped down the hall to the stairway and flew down the steps, slipping and almost falling on his ass on the landing. She leaned over the railing and listened to his footsteps pounding down the last flight and the sound of the creaky old front door being pulled open, then slamming shut. She could hear a car start in front of the building and heard honking horns as it squealed away from the curb.
Flying back into her apartment, she closed and locked the door, then ran to the window and wrestled it open, pulling a half frozen Max back into the room. He slumped against the wall, shivering uncontrollably, while she pried his cell phone and gun out of his frozen fingers and then stripped off his ice covered jacket.
He toed off his boots and let her pull his t-shirt over his head, using it to wipe off the icicles that clung to his hair and face. He collapsed onto the bed where she wrapped him in her electric blanket, turning up the dial up to the highest setting. As she reached under the blanket to open his jeans and tug the wet denim off of his long legs, she wondered if he went commando like the rest of the Merry Men.
"Yeah," he said through chattering teeth, "we all go commando." He curled up in a ball and wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself.
Stephanie shot him a death glare. "How do you do that?" she snarked, as she filled a kettle with water and put it on the hot plate. "Is it a RangeMan thing or a Merry Man thing or a guy thing?" She slammed a mug down on the table and dropped a tea bag into it. "How come everybody can do that but me?"
He smiled at her, "Tricks of the trade, Steph."
"Yeah, well it's not fair. I was in the trade and I never learned that trick!" She grumbled as she poured the boiling water into the mug, added sugar and gave it a stir.
She carried the mug carefully, balancing it as she sat on the edge of the bed. Max had pulled the comforter up over himself and now he was cocooned under the covers with only his face showing. The electric blanket had helped to reduce his chills, but he was still shivering and looked miserable.
Steph uncovered his head and helped him to sit up, wrapping the blankets around him. She held out the cup for him to take a sip. By the time he finished half the mug, he was able to hold it himself without spilling it.
"Did you hear any of what Yuri was saying?" she asked Max as she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed.
"I heard enough. You really like playing with fire, don't you? If you're not careful, you're gonna get yourself dead and that'll seriously piss off Ranger."
Steph gave him a shrug and a small smile. "I don't see that I have any choice, Max. I can't sit around with my hands in my lap just waiting to see if Ranger makes it out alive. Not when I could be doing something to help him." She sighed as she waited for Che to answer his cell.
"Hola Chiquita!" Hector's voice boomed through the phone. He sounded more than a little drunk and Stephanie could hear laughter and loud music in the background. She pushed the speaker phone button and laid the phone on the bed next to Max.
"I have some information," she said softly.
"You're missing a great party! I miss you Dulce, I wanna sink my teeth into that sweet little ass of yours." He roared with laughter and Stephanie and Max raised their eyebrows at each other. "Hold on, Baby. I can't hear you, too much noise in here. Let me get outside."
She heard him tell somebody that he'd be right back, and listened as the noise faded into the background. "Okay Steph," Che finally said, "What have you got?"
"I've got a name … Manny Hernandez."
"Shit! That's means we have to worry about his whole crew, too. Were you able to find out anything about the timeline?" Hector's voice had a hard edge to it.
"Yuri said that Ramon would be dead in a week or so. Once they were sure that they didn't need him anymore."
Hector was silent for a moment. "Okay, listen, you and Max need to get out of there and back to Trenton right away. You can't be in Brighton Beach when this goes down, Steph. There's too much chance that they'll find out that you were involved and try to use you against Ranger."
She grabbed the phone, turned off the speaker and got up off the bed, pacing the small room.
Stephanie took a deep breath and blew it out. "I can't leave yet. I have to find out if there are any others. And I know I can get Yuri to tell me when and where and how they plan on carrying out this assassination. The man can't wait to spill his guts. The more information I can get for you, the better prepared you'll be."
"Stephanie… Do I need to call Tank and have him drag you back to Trenton in cuffs?" There was a hint of a threat in his voice.
She turned her back to Max and cautiously took her stun gun out of her purse, slipping it into the pocket of her robe.
She lowered her voice so that Max wouldn't hear. "Hector … I'm not leaving, that's all there is to it. If you try to force this, I'll zap Max here and take off. I did it to Hal, I can and will do it to him, too." She waited a couple of seconds so that he would know that she was serious. "Look, I promise you that I'll be careful and I won't take any unnecessary chances. Max will follow me everywhere I go and I even promise that I'll be dressed all the time. I'm so close, please Hector, you know I'm right. Please just give me one more week?"
He was silent for so long that Steph checked the phone to see if he had disconnected. "Alright. One more week … that's it! You got me? If you and Max aren't back in Trenton, so help me God, Stephanie…"
She didn't give him a chance to finish. "Don't worry! I promise I'll be careful and I'll call you to check in every day. Hector …" she hesitated, almost afraid to ask, "How is he? Is he okay?"
He gave a heavy sigh, "He's doing his job, Steph. He's doing what he was trained to do."
She felt tears sting her eyes, "If you have the chance, tell him I love him." Her voice sounded small and far away to her own ears.
Stephanie closed the phone and looked up at Max. "We have a week and then we have to hightail it back to Trenton."
She turned away from him again and swiped at the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks, determined not to cry, not to let Max see any weakness. When she turned back around, he was studying her.
"How are you feeling, warmed up yet? You want another cup of tea?" She tried for a smile.
He shook his head 'no.' "No, I'll be fine after I get some sleep." He struggled to get up off of the bed. "Let me get the air mattress and blow it up."
"That's okay, I'll sleep on the floor tonight … you take the bed."
"We could share?" He gave her a boyish grin.
Steph rolled her eyes. "I'm not getting into bed with a naked man!"
"They teach us in survival training that skin to skin contact is the best way to share body heat," he said innocently.
She groaned loudly, "I don't know how I could ever have doubted that you were a Merry Man. Are you sure you're not related to Lester Santos?"
Rooting around in his duffle bag, she pulled out sweats and socks and tossed them to him, turning her back while he put them on. After checking the flimsy locks on the door, she wedged one of the chairs under the knob, and took her gun off the dresser, placing it on the night table next to Max's.
Max was lying on his side with his back to her as she wrapped her robe tightly around herself and started to get into bed.
"Don't forget that stun gun," he said with a yawn. "You wouldn't want to zap yourself in your sleep. And don't even think about using it on me. I know all about Hal, we all learn about that little stunt in mandatory 'Bombshell Training."
She stared at him, open mouthed, finally realizing that he had seen her put it in her pocket. She wasn't as slick as she thought she was after all, she decided. He still had his back to her, but she could see his shoulders shaking with laughter. Plunking the stun gun down on the table she climbed into bed and punched her pillow a couple of times before she finally lay down.
"Bombshell Training?" she asked sarcastically.
"Ohhhhh yeah!" was all he said.
They lay there for long time, neither able to sleep. Her thoughts were wrapped around Ranger, missing him, wishing she were lying next to him, wrapped in his arms. She couldn't help but wonder if they would ever share those moments again, if she'd ever feel his heart beat against hers, his breath against her skin. Tears gathered in her eyes and slid down her cheeks onto the pillow.
"Steph?"
"Um.."
"How far are you prepared to go with Yuri to get the information out of him?"
Her stomach flip-flopped sickeningly at the realization that she was willing to do whatever it took, let Yuri do whatever he wanted, no matter what it was. It was a small price to pay for Ranger's life. She'd worry about asking for forgiveness later.
RSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRSRS
The Cummings Federal Mental Health Unit, located in the desolate high desert country of the Pacific coast, had the tightest security of any Federal detention center in the nation. It housed the sickest, most violent and twisted minds, guilty of the most horrific crimes of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.
These men were held in their cells, in lock down, for twenty-three out of the twenty-four hours in each day. Three armed guards, with a shoot first - ask questions later mentality, would cuff and shackle the prisoners whenever they left their one man cells. No one visited these inmates, save an occasional reporter looking for a story, not just because of the remote location, but because these were men best forgotten by the world. Their perversions, not their personalities, were what would be remembered about them.
Except for occasional meetings with lawyers or doctors, they sat behind locked doors, plotting escapes, planning revenge, dreaming of their past and future crimes. Their every movement was monitored by security cameras inside their cells and out. Guards, armed with automatic weapons and teargas, walked the catwalks above the cells, ever mindful of how lethal these overly medicated prisoners really were.
Housed in another wing of the facility were prisoners that, for various reasons, the government just wanted to disappear from the public eye for awhile. These men were 'lost' in the system, no record of any of them could be found anywhere. Under the watchful eyes of the guards walking over their heads, these men acted as trustees, delivering mail, food, and books through small slots in the doors in the psychiatric ward cells. During the hour each prisoner was allowed out of their cell for showers or exercise out in the yard, the trustees collected and delivered laundry and bedding from the cells, picked up trash and performed a variety of maintenance and cleaning duties.
Their freedom to roam the prison made the Trustees the envy of the other inmates. They acted as go betweens, delivering messages, gossip, and information between the lock down prisoners, for a price, of course. As in any other prison, there was a lucrative black market business going on … trading for drugs, cigarettes, magazines, all sorts of contraband. The trustees picked up and delivered the bartered items, a practice largely overlooked by the guards who were only concerned with getting their cut of the profits and making it out of the prison alive at the end of their shift.
Doctor David Mortimer sat in his office, reading over the psychiatric case history of the one inmate whose story would turn David Mortimer into a household name. While there were any number of potential candidates housed here that would qualify for the role, the more he read, the more certain the good doctor was that he had found his ticket to fame and fortune.
Samuel Pardue Smith was as crazy as a loon, mad as a hatter, nutty as a fruitcake. A sexual sadist and a true sociopath, every cliché about the insane had been written with him in mind, and he would be the star of Dr. Mortimer's first true life crime novel.
Smith was one of the most prolific serial killers in recent history. He had committed some of the most horrendous crimes ever to be splashed across front pages of the nations' newspapers and magazines. He had single-handedly kept the country in a constant state of terror during the ten horrific months that he had left a trail of rape and torture, murder and mayhem across twenty-one states.
The more David Mortimer read, the faster his hard mercenary heart beat in his chest, visions of dollar signs dancing before his eyes. The file contained the stuff of a New York Times bestseller, and he could see his name in the number one spot on the top of the list.
Dr. Mortimer practically laughed out loud when he read the attending psychiatrist's hand written notes on Smith's current treatment. Smith was keeping a written record of his entire life, a journal, from his earliest memories, to his childhood, to his family, to what he had for dinner last night. Smith had documented the making of a serial killer. Everything was right there … all the horrific details of his crimes, from how he chose his victims to his physical reactions to his dreams and fantasies.
It was practically an outline for a book. Mortimer's mind raced … all he had to do was get his hands on that diary, and half his work was done. He could arrange some cursory interviews with Smith, just turn on a recorder and let the man ramble. It would serve to lend credibility to his research and document his personal interaction with his subject. This time next year Mortimer was sure that he'd be on the TV circuit, interviewed on every morning show, sitting in front of the cameras with Leno and Letterman. He was practically giddy with anticipation.
He was leaned back in his desk chair, hands clasped behind his head, dreaming about how much he could demand for the movie rights to his book. He liked the idea of his name up on the big screen on a movie that would make 'Silence of the Lambs' look like a Disney flick.
Suddenly, a terrible thought wormed its way through his fantasies and hit him like a brick and his blood literally ran cold in his veins. It was as plain as day, Smith's court appointed psychiatrist was planning to do the same thing … to use the journal to write a book! Why else would he have Smith detail his entire life? Shit! He had to get his hands on that journal fast! But how? He couldn't walk into Smith's cell and ask him for it … that would alert Smith's shrink. He needed to steal it …
A soft tap on the door brought him out of his thoughts. A trustee came in and gave him a nod, then emptied the trash can and ran a dust mop over the floor. Watching the man, Dr. Mortimer wondered how he had gotten the horrible scar that sliced through his face, from his forehead, through his eye, to his mouth. An idea formed itself in the doctor's mind.
"Do you do clean up in Samuel Smith's ward?" the doctor asked.
"Yes sir," the trustee answered.
Dr. Mortimer smiled at him. "I have a little proposition for you …"
Later that afternoon, the same Trustee pushed his cleaning cart down the hall to the Doctor's locker room. Doctor Mortimer, stood at the end of the hall, conferring with a colleague, and watched the man. The trustee met the doctor's eyes and gave a small nod, then opened the locker room door and pushed the cart inside. Dr. Mortimer excused himself, and headed off to the locker room to get ready for his daily run.
Although he was a creature of habit and ran the same route at the same time every day, he planned on taking a slight detour today. The Trustee's nod indicated that he had that journal and Dr. Mortimer would run to his car and then drive into the nearest town, fifteen minutes away, to copy it. The journal would be back in Smith's cell in an hour and no one would be any the wiser. He pushed open the locker room door and found the smiling trustee waiting for him.
Dressed in grey sweats and cross trainers, a towel wrapped around his lower face to protect him against the howling winds and the hood of the sweatshirt pulled up over his head, gloves on and sunglasses in place, photo ID around his neck, he pushed open the door to the outside world. Stopping in the fenced walkway, he went through the usual stretching routine in preparation for the ten mile run. Jogging to the gate, he sent a wave to the guard in the tower who automatically opened the electrified gate, just as he did every day.
He beeped open the Lexus and in a few minutes was headed down the highway. Once out of sight of the prison, he pushed the sweatshirt hood back and unwrapped the towel from his face. His plan couldn't have worked any better. With any luck no one would be looking for him for a few more hours, unless they found Dr. Mortimer's body, that is.
Ramon Escobar glanced in the rear view and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He thought about the day he had looked into the face of his double. Now he was a free man, and he was going to find out who was impersonating him and why. He smiled to himself. He was going to have a good time killing that man.
Ranger and Stephanie were friends and lovers and partners.
They were four weeks, two days, nineteen hours, and thirty-three minutes into her plan to save him.
TBC …
A/N: Sorry this took so long to post, but real life has been rough. I hope you all had a wonderful Holiday Season! I guess part of it is separation anxiety … I admit it … I'm having a hard time ending Game. But it will end and I'll try to keep on schedule.
Okay, so now there's another threat to Stephanie and Ranger … What do you think is gonna happen? And just how far will Stephanie go with Yuri to get information? Is it worth it? Let me know what you think!
Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and questions. I'll try to answer them all.
Hey Dave! I can't make you rich, and this is as famous as I can manage! Hope you feel better soon!
Stayce