CHAPTER 8—DIVERSIONS
A slice of light began to break through on the horizon. Of course, Loralei was unaware of it. She didn't have a window seat, and really, she didn't give a ripe fuck about the sunrise. The flight would be fairly short, and despite the slight delay in take off, she would be home before nine. Her stubborn streak, which never went away, was gnawing at her. She was worried about her husband, worried about his anger. She knew exactly what he was capable of when pushed to the extreme. Donovan had never told her right out, but she knew what had happened to him while she was fighting for her life after the Black Heart's attack. At the time, she had still been in the hospital, and was finally allowed to have unlimited visitors. She had seen each member of Donovan's team, her partner, her parents, cousins, friends, dogs, cats, and so on. One evening after everyone left, Alex lingered with her. Loralei sensed that the other woman wanted to speak to her about something, but she didn't understand her apprehension. After Loralei asked, Alex gave her the details of the Black Heart's second capture. Still in nosy mode, Loralei pushed for information, pushed to know Donovan's role. She knew he was involved with it, but she didn't know in what capacity. She was also aware that something hugely significant had shaken him. She could see it in his eyes when he looked at her. Gently, tentatively, Alex told her what happened to Donovan's mind, and the fact that he burned on his need for vengeance until he was given solid proof that Loralei had survived. She learned how close he had come to basically losing it all. She didn't want to see him pushed to that level, didn't want to think that she would lose him because of that. She couldn't even imagine what he would do to his brother once he found him. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, but she didn't find sleep. She couldn't rest, and probably wouldn't until Donovan came home safe and sound.
A soft sound, dong, rang out into the interior of the plane. Loralei ignored it. It seemed as if they announced every damn thing imaginable during a flight. "Attention, ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking. We have had a slight diversion in our flight plan this morning. We will be returning to Tampa at this time. We're sorry for any inconvenience, and we hope you fly with us again soon."
Moans, groans, protests, and curses issued from all the passengers, with the exception of Loralei. Her eyes flew open and she sat up. They were going back to Florida? What the hell? Something was wrong, and she felt her heart pounding in her chest. When a flight attendant approached her, she wasn't surprised at all. Horrible dread sank down to her very core. She was certain that something had happened to Donovan.
"Excuse me, miss. Are you Loralei Donovan?"
Loralei blinked up at the attendant stupidly, as if she didn't understand the question. Unconsciously, her hands went down to her stomach. She nodded. "Yes, I'm Loralei Donovan. What-"
She didn't have time to complete her sentence; the attendant leaned toward her and took her gently by the forearm. Thousands of horrible thoughts entered her mind. What happened? Was her husband hurt? Dead? Loralei allowed the attendant to lead her toward the front of the plane. Never had she been on a plane where someone was lead to the cockpit. She followed mutely, praying that nothing was wrong, that she wouldn't have to lose her mind or show out on this silver tube flying four hundred miles per hour. Once inside the cockpit, both the pilot and co-pilot were staring at her curiously. One of them was holding a radio mic in hand.
"Agent Donovan, we have your wife here," the fellow holding the mic said.
"Thank you," Donovan said, his voice beautifully crisp and clear. "Put her on, I need to speak to her."
The man handed her the radio and tried to instruct her on how to use it. She snatched it from him. "I know how to use a radio," she snapped. "Frank? What the hell is going on?"
"I'll explain when you get back. When you get to the airport, do not speak to anyone, do not approach anyone. Stay where you can watch the crowd, and find the nearest security guard. Don't go anywhere unless you're in plain sight of security, or until you see me. I'm on my way right now, and I hope I'll arrive not long after you."
"What's wrong," she demanded, "Tell me."
"I can't. Not like this. You'll know everything when I see you again. I promise."
* * *
While Jake and Donovan made a mad dash to the airport, Monica, Alex, and Cody stayed with Farron. Curiously, one or the other of them would glance at the injured man. They didn't quite understand how Donovan's wife had gotten thrust into the middle of this outrageous mess. None of them knew that Loralei was in Florida. After their boss offhandedly mentioned that his wife was pregnant, they hadn't seen much of her at all. He had begun to guard his private life, to shield it against the outside. Of course, they couldn't really blame him. The couple had gone through some wickedly gut wrenching shit. Then out of the blue, Donovan's brother [his identical twin brother] appears and is almost beaten to death for apparently touching Loralei. It boggled the mind. If that wasn't confusing enough, the twin announced that he was the elusive witness to the Ramirez assassination-the second secondhand man of Jesus Ortiz, the country's most notorious drug and arms dealer. How awkward was it for a federal agent to have a drug trafficking brother? What more did Donovan intend to dig up from his past? Ex-wives? More children? Secrets of Al Capone's vault? Just when they thought they were getting to know their icy leader, he had pulled even more mysteries out of his bag of tricks.
Since Farron confessed that he was Mateo Luis, Donovan [very grudgingly] officially put him in protective custody. Of course, none of them thought Farron would actually be able to go anywhere for a while. Although they could very well see that this fellow was Donovan's twin brother, his face was a mess. The swelling in his eye and bottom lip hadn't gone down despite the tons of cold compresses he applied to it. He popped endless aspirin tablets to alleviate the pain, but it wasn't helping. His thoughts were drawn to escape. The agent known as Jake intended to meet with Dominguez and Ortiz tonight to induct him into the gang. If they were to discover that Jake was an el federale, he wouldn't see the light of day again. They would torture him mercilessly. Farron's former gang was heartless, and he couldn't believe he stayed amongst them so very long. Now, his hermanos were set to destroy Frank and everything he loved. He had a few options and an idea drifting into his head, but he wasn't sure if it would pan out.
"So, uh, Double Vision," Cody began, "how do you fit in all this?"
Farron fixed his eyes [or at least tried to, anyway] on the geeky looking child in a man's body. "You want a confession, el hombre pequeño (little man)?" He didn't give Cody an opportunity to respond. He cut him off with a dismissive wave that was sooooooooo Frank Donovan, Cody wanted to laugh. "I'll try to make this corto y el dulce (short and sweet). Frank is a good man, a steady man. He knew what side of the fence he wanted to tread upon. I did not. He took the hard way; I always tend to choose the easy way. Frank was good at leading, domineering, and bullying. I was a follower. Easy money appealed to me, as did taking risks. I chose the life of an endroge negociante (drug trafficker) because I found something I was good at, something that Frank would never try." He chuckled sardonically. "I found my nicho (niche), but I never took a man's life. I was ordered to do so, but I didn't. You see, years ago, Frank took bullets meant for me, and since then, I have had no use for guns of any kind. Mateo Luis was a nice cover. If they ever heard my true name, Frank would have never made it as far as he has."
Cody wouldn't let it rest. The 'little man' comment had irritated him. "Okay," he said thoughtfully. "Why did he beat you up?"
Pissant, Farron thought. "Perhaps that's something we should not discuss?"
Cody smiled a little and crossed his arms over his chest. At that moment, he was absolutely fascinated. Monica and Alex exchanged a look and rolled their eyes dramatically. "Why not? You've told us your life history. Might as well tell us why Donovan nearly killed you."
Farron placed yet another compress to his swollen eye. Yo lo podría estrangular (I could strangle you), he thought. "You want to know all my los secretos (secrets), no? I contacted his wife to assist me in reconciling with my brother. I wanted to come to him with this, because I want to leave the life. Let me say that I did something foolish, and I hurt her. When someone hurts something Frank loves, that he worships, he loses his mind a little. He repaid me for touching his woman."
Cody shook his head and whistled sympathetically. "Double Vision, that was a bonehead move, my man."
* * *
It seemed as if he walked the entire length of the airport a dozen times, and there was still no sight of Loralei. The damn plane should have gotten back by now, Donovan thought. Jake canvassed the other side of the airport, and every few minutes, he gave him the same update: no sign. He didn't doubt that some of Dominguez's cronies had probably flown into Chicago to await Loralei's arrival. That thought haunted Donovan, regardless of the fact that she was on her way back. He couldn't drive Farron's words out of his head. He knew the inner workings of a drug family, he had seen enough in his career. They never took kindly to betrayal. The fuckers had seen him, had seen his wife, and were now hell-bent to seek their revenge. If anything happened to her or their child, he'd die.
Loralei hurriedly got off the plane and went straight for her luggage. She carried out Donovan's instructions to the letter. She scanned the people moving this way and that, scurrying along, rushing to catch a flight. She didn't immediately see a security guard. She walked around in a shocked kind of daze, wondering what the hell happened bad enough for her husband to redirect an airplane. There was no one in the crowd that even resembled Donovan. Nervously, she stopped walking to look around at her surroundings. She dropped her bags and crossed her arms over her chest. Irritatingly enough, she felt the bitter sting of tears tweaking her eyes. This is not the time for raging hormones, she thought. For a moment, she felt angry with her husband. He refused to tell her what happened while she was on the plane, and yet, he wasn't here as he promised. There was nothing she could do, and she hated that feeling more than any other. Sighing heavily, she picked up her luggage and plodded along. Every now and then, her eyes would search the crowd for the familiar and comforting figure of Donovan. Where are you? What's going on? She gave up for a moment and stopped again. Her bags felt as if they each weighed twenty tons. Nervous, frustrated tears trickled from her eyes. She wiped them away hastily. She didn't want anyone to see the pathetic pregnant woman losing her mind.
Nothing. Goddamn it, Loralei. Where are you? Donovan felt the first tinges of impatience eating away at him. He fought back the panic that threatened to seize and hold onto him for dear life. The thought that something had already happened to Loralei entered his mind more than once. The rage that had all but left him began to sink its teeth into his heart. Farron had left yet another mess for him to clean up. It wouldn't have been so bad if Loralei hadn't been inadvertently drawn into Farron's game. After his wife was safe, after this case was closed, he intended to cut every tie with his brother. He would not see or speak to him again. This time, it was truly over. He moved through the throngs of morning travelers, his gun at the ready if he needed it, and kept steadily searching for Loralei. He hoped bringing Jake along would speed up the hunt, but it didn't.
She made another scan of the crowd. She had just about decided that Donovan wasn't going to show up. She was certain something had happened. She decided to find a telephone and call the hotel. The waiting was eating her alive. She turned to pick up one of her bags, and she caught the hint of a white shirt and black hair. Frank? She stepped out a little to get a better look. His back was to her, but she would recognize him anywhere, under any circumstance. The anger she felt earlier drifted away.
Oh God, she thought, how sickeningly melodramatic. Fodder for Lifetime movies. "Frank!"
He stopped as he heard the beautiful sound of Loralei's voice. Nothing could ever be sweeter. He turned toward the shout, and wondered how he hadn't seen her on his first pass. She waited patiently [a first for her] while he shrugged his way through the crowd. Once he made it to her, he took her into his embrace and held her against him, cupping the back of her head into his good hand. He didn't want to voice the thoughts swirling in his head. Dear God, he had expected the worst, but received the best. He drew away from her for a moment to get his mouth on hers. He kissed her hard and hungrily.
"By the sound of that, I guess it means you found her," Jake's voice said into his ear.
After he broke the kiss, Donovan chuckled in relief and said, "Mind your own business, Agent Shaw." He wasted no time talking to Loralei. He grabbed her two bags and she hoisted up her carry-on. "We have to move out of here immediately," he said. "We'll talk, but not until we get to the hotel."
Jake drove them back as Loralei and Donovan sat in the backseat, barely able to keep their hands off each other. Ugh, disgusting, he thought. If they don't stop, I'm going to pull over and get the hell out. "Do you guys want some privacy? I'll let you have the truck if you want it, and I'll hitchhike back."
Donovan said nothing, but of course, Loralei could always be counted upon if flippancy was the order of the day. She glanced up at Jake's reflection in the rearview mirror. "Do you mind? It would only take a few minutes."
"Goddamn it, Loralei," Donovan spat as he ran his hand through her hair. "A few minutes hell. It might take ten seconds," he said, low enough for only her to hear [or so he thought].
Ew ew ew ew ew, Jake thought. Get me the fuck out of here. "Come on guys, knock it off, really."
Loralei's relieved playfulness ended the moment she saw Donovan's injured hand. He had wrapped it up tightly, but his fingers could easily be seen. They appeared swollen and red. She gently took his hand into hers. "Frank? What happened to your hand?"
"My brother," he said sedately.
"You didn't," she said.
"He did," Jake said from the front. "I was a witness."
* * *
At the hotel, Donovan, Jake, and Loralei entered the makeshift office, and the first thing Loralei saw was Farron. His face was a mass of bruises; his lip was swollen and dried blood had caked at the corner of his mouth. His eye was the worst. It was swollen shut and the flesh over it seemed bumpy and misshapen. No wonder Frank's hand is ruined, she thought. She could do very little except stare at him. She tore her eyes away for a moment and glanced up at her husband. There was a slight trace of regret in his eyes, but he tried to hide it. It was no use, she could see it. When she focused her eyes back on Farron's brutalized face, he was looking at her, seemingly wanting to speak. He had no intention of giving his brother another reason to attack him.
"What the hell is going on," Loralei demanded. "You said we would talk when we got back. So talk, Donovan."
He sighed heavily. "My brother is a drug trafficker who works for Jesus Ortiz. His friend assassinated a senator and Farron was a witness to this murder. He is the person we've been looking to protect. Bottom line, Loralei, one of his gang saw us at the airport. He was under the assumption that I was Farron, and you were with him. These men were likely on their way to Chicago to take you. Your flight had to be diverted. If I hadn't done that…" He couldn't finish his thought with words, but his eyes spoke for him. Throughout his explanation, he didn't bother looking at Farron once. He couldn't. He was afraid he would take after him again.
Loralei shook her head. "Oh my God," she said, nearly gasping in shock. She turned away from Donovan and approached Farron.
Mutely, he looked up at her with his good eye. Her green eyes were enraged. He was readying for another punch. "Go ahead," Farron said. "If it'll make you feel better, blacken my good eye."
Instead of throwing a punch, Loralei spat in his face. She turned away and marched to the other side of the room. For a moment, for a very brief moment, even Donovan felt badly for Farron. When he turned around to look at his wife, she sat at the conference table with her head in her hands. What an awful mess. Slowly, Donovan approached her from behind and settled his hands on her shoulders.
"Frank, they're coming after you now. Goddamn it. Goddamn it all," she moaned.
He moved to wrap his arms around her and he laid his cheek atop her head. He wanted to say something, to comfort her, but he couldn't. His thoughts were identical to hers, with the exception of his feeling they were coming after her instead. He said nothing. He held her protectively against him until her anger drifted away.
* * *
That night, Jake and Alex [posing as Jake's girlfriend] infiltrated the Ortiz/Dominguez gang while the rest of the team monitored the situation carefully. The recording device hidden in Alex's wristwatch picked up every word, every nuance perfectly. Cody certainly knew his shit. They listened to the good-natured Spanish banter before Dominguez began cursing Mateo Luis. Farron began to pay attention at that point. They made mention of seeing him at the airport with his woman. Dominguez then admitted that he had sent a buddy of his to Chicago to take the woman, but she never showed. He was angry and asked Jake/Miguel if he wanted the assignment of helping track down Mateo and his woman. Of course, Jake/Miguel agreed. Dominguez boasted that he had men in every corner of the city that would be more than happy to aid in the search for Mateo and the woman.
Loralei listened and watched carefully. Donovan hadn't wanted her in on this, but there was really nowhere for her to go. She refused to leave his side. Honestly, he didn't want to lose sight of her, especially considering the threat.
"He's not kidding," Farron said suddenly. "He and Ortiz have many helpers, including the addicts who buy the drugs."
Donovan didn't like the sound of that. Where the hell could Loralei go? Where would she be safe? She couldn't go home, and she certainly couldn't stay here. His anger toward Farron flared again. He was tempted to hit him just for the sheer joy of it. This was the ultimate fuck up of all fuck ups. "How could you do this, Farron? How could you become so immersed in this that you would risk the lives of your own fucking family to make easy money? Can you tell me?"
Farron focused his good eye on Donovan's face. "How was I to know this would happen to you?"
It was the typical Farron Donovan answer, a complete and total cop-out. Donovan snarled and went for his brother again. Before he had the chance to raise his fist, Loralei ran up to him and took hold of his arm.
"No, Frank," she cried, "No. This won't help."
He backed away, breathing heavily, and turned so he wouldn't have to look at him. He walked over to the conference table and sat down heavily. Control. He needed to regain control.
* * *
"Loralei," Donovan whispered. "Wake up." She looked up at her husband owlishly. She had fallen asleep at the table. "Come on. You need to be in bed."
"Uh uh. Not without you," she said sleepily.
"I'll come. I'm not leaving you."
Together, they left the conference room and walked down the narrow hallway toward his first floor room. He slid the card key in the slot and opened the door. Loralei slipped into the room first, and he started in after her. He watched as his wife collapsed on the bed. It was the last image he would see for an hour or more. He heard the footsteps behind him a bit too late to react. Something hard and unyielding smashed onto the nape of his neck, effectively knocking him out.
At the sound of her husband's body crumpling to the floor, Loralei came awake and watched as a dark figure stalked toward her. She tried to scream, but a hand covered her mouth. "Esto es para su propio bueno," a voice whispered in Spanish. ("This is for your own good.")