STOPPING THE TROUBLE STARTER
After releasing herself from her bonds, Loralei cuffed the bitch to the cot. Let's see how well you like it. If it weren't for kicking her when she was down, Loralei would have buried her foot to the hilt in Ennui's stomach, but she hesitated. Not only was the idea a bad one, but it also appeared that she had been beaten enough. After everything the bitch had done to her and her husband, she still managed to feel sympathy for the whore. She glanced down at the keys resting in the palm of her hand. If the same type of cuff had bound Kara, she could free her as well. She had no idea how far she would make it beyond the door, but she couldn't stay here and become a cocaine call girl. They would have to kill her first. She went to the unconscious bitch and patted her down. To her keyed up delight, the bitch was armed. The gun was low caliber, and wouldn't be a match for the semi-automatics, but at least she wouldn't go out unarmed. She peeked out the window no more than a couple of seconds and tried to take in as much as she could. She couldn't see anyone moving around outside. She thought it a good sign. However, there could be tons of goons down the hall, and she didn't know how long the pathetic little pistol could hold out. Her mind told her to stay put, but her heart pushed her forward. She had begun to wonder if the gang was using her to bait her husband. Would the bitch go that far? Would she try to harm a man she supposedly loves? She wanted to speak to Donovan, to warn him, but she wasn't sure how she would go about that. Steeling herself, she pulled on the door handle and waited for shots to ring out. When none came, she took a deep breath and stepped out into the unknown.
* * *
Farron glanced at his brother from the corner of his eye. Donovan hadn't said much of anything since they had gotten into the car. He had phoned his agents and had them on standby. He didn't intend on running to the scene without backup, but he wanted them close in case he was tempted. He knew that his mind drifted when Loralei was in trouble, and he tended to forget to ask for help. She was his wife, damn it, and he was hell bent to help her on his own. Yet, he had barked at them from day one not to go into a situation alone, and he had to dance to the same tune. It was hard accepting help, and even harder asking for it. Donovan felt his brother's eyes on him, and they exchanged a brief look. He found himself proud of his twin; proud that he hadn't fled when the heat became unbearable. He could tell that Farron was as messed up about Kara as he was Loralei, but he actually put on a brave front and declared that both of them would live. Strong women, very strong, and they will survive. We will get to them in time. Two sides of the same coin…
* * *
Loralei slid cautiously along the endless corridor. She saw several doors leading to rooms that were identical to the one she had been held prisoner. Sleeping quarters? Is that what this is? Did they bring the women here to begin brainwashing them, to feed them cocaine? She found herself peeking in each window, but the rooms were vacant. This place, wherever it was, must have been the 'breaking in' area. It seemed almost…institutional, like a prison or a jail. She strained to remember if there was a vacant jail or hospital in town? Was there? She thought there might be, but she couldn't remember. Damn it. She moved further down the hallway, ever cautious, keeping her body against the wall as she had been trained to do in her rookie days. Never thought I'd be using those rookie skills again, not after leaving for a second time. Stop it. If she didn't, she would wind up shot. She cleared her mind and progressed further than before. She snuck peeks into a room here and there, looking for Kara. What if the men were with Kara already? Jesus. The thought was too outrageous to comprehend. Dear, dear Kara had gotten involved just because she was their next-door neighbor. Loralei's heart stopped when she heard voices echoing down the connecting hallway no more than six or seven feet from where she stood. She plastered her body against the wall and held her breath. She was caught. They would probably shoot her on sight. She breathed heavily and rapidly as the voices grew nearer and nearer. They were close enough to where she could recognize them. It was the one she had learned was Huete and the other whose name was Torcido.
"She won't take it," Huete asked incredulously. "Did you tell her it would make the pain in her eye go away?"
"She wouldn't listen," Torcido said. "I'll leave her for a moment, but return shortly. If she won't take it when I come back to her, I'll fucking force it up her nose."
It was obvious that they were talking about Kara. The fuckers were trying to make her snort cocaine. They wanted her to become a call girl. Oh, hell no. She would give herself over before she would let them bring further harm to Kara. The two men kept moving closer to the open space at the end of the corridor. When they reached that spot, Loralei would be in plain view. To her utter amazement [and relief], the two men stopped right at the very edge of the opening. She could see the back of Huete's body. Dear God, if he turns around, I'm fucked. She stood there, breathing heavily, and raised the pistol up just a bit. They might kill her, but she would go down fighting. After a very hairy moment, the two men went back down the same hall from where they came. She relaxed, but only a little. She still wasn't out of the woods yet. Loralei continued making her way closer to the end of the hall. In the third to the last room on the left side of the corridor, she finally found Kara. She was sitting on the side of the cot, her face in her hands. Loralei looked down at the ring full of keys and tried each and every one until she heard the lock sliding open. Kara looked up, expecting to see Torcido, but saw Loralei instead.
Behind her, she heard a loathsome roar. "What are you doing?"
Gunshots rang out, breaking the deafening silence in the hall. A woman screamed. Was it Loralei? Was it Kara?
* * *
Farron stopped the car just short of a wooded area. If he remembered Huete as well as he thought, he assumed the man would choose a secluded vacated building. The only one Farron knew of close to the city was an abandoned mental hospital. It would be a perfect place to house the trapped women, a perfect place to brainwash them and hook them on cocaine. Donovan barked sharp orders to his crew, telling them where they needed to be. He sat back and stared at the hospital. For an abandoned building, it seemed in relatively good shape with a manicured lawn. Of course, the place was also lit up, making it obvious that someone occupied it.
"How many men would be here," Donovan asked without tearing his eyes off the building. His pregnant wife was somewhere inside that building. He felt it.
"Not sure," he answered. "No more than necessary. Huete breaks in the girls after they are clotted with cocaine. If there are too many men around, they tend to take liberties. Huete is here, and probably Torcido. I would think those would be the only two inside. Outside, there might be as many as five men guarding the place from intruders."
Donovan nodded. He was half-cocked and ready to run in with guns blazing. He reached for his holster where he had tucked an extra weapon. He dug it out, found several fresh clips, and handed it over to his twin. "I know you're on probation, but I want you to take this. If you're caught with it, I will help you with any consequences that result. I need all the gun power I can get."
Farron nodded, completely understanding. He still wasn't comfortable with guns, with the idea of taking a life, but his brother, Loralei, and Kara were counting on him. He took the gun and checked to make sure it was loaded. "When do we go in?"
"As soon as Jake and Alex tell me they're in position." He put his hand against the earpiece. "Cody are you on this?"
"Sure, Boss," Cody said. "I have your location triangulated. No information on this particular place, and I can't tell you anything you don't already know. But I can tell you that none other than Alca Huete owns this old loony bin now. He bought it for…don't laugh…extra storage space."
"Goddamn," Donovan swore. "How would the sellers believe this shit?"
"Boss," Alex spat, "we're on the fringe of the property. Not sure where the security cameras are located, but I see a few beefy guys roaming around the front, craning their necks. I think they know something is up."
"Good, I want them to know," Donovan spat. "Cody, get the PD down here, as many men as they will send." He glanced at his brother. "How's the wound?"
He shrugged. "Not bad. I can do this. Don't worry about me."
* * *
Breathing heavily, cursing incoherently, Loralei looked down at the man she had just shot. He wasn't dead, but he was close. She hadn't shot many people in her life, but at this juncture, it was either he or she. She had a husband, a daughter, and an unborn baby to think about. This man had been set to kill her. Before turning away from the dying bastard, she took his gun. She then turned away and went about opening Kara's cell. Bless her heart. She wasn't crying or raising a fuss. Loralei wasn't even sure how she held onto her own sanity. She kneeled before Kara and unlocked the cuff holding her captive.
"Are you okay," Loralei asked her.
She nodded. "Yes, I'm fine. Those men were…were trying to make me snort cocaine. I thought they killed you. Just now, I thought you were dead."
Loralei looked up at Kara and smiled a little. "No. Takes a little more than a stupid gun to kill me. We're going to have to keep low, Kara." She handed the man's gun over to Kara. "I don't know if you've ever shot one of these before, but I need your help. I'm not sure how long this one will hold out. I'm asking a shitload out of you, Kara. Basically, I need your trust, because darlin,' I don't know if we're going to get out alive or not."
"Anything is better than this," Kara whispered.
* * *
Donovan and Farron slipped quietly out of the car and made their way toward the front of the building. All of them were decked out in black; it was hard detecting them with the naked eye. Of course, the surveillance cameras were right on them and it wouldn't take long to take them all out. They had submachine guns, the others did not. However, they were instructed by Huete himself that they were not to fire on them. He had special plans for their leader. Donovan kept communication going among them, but he wasn't the least bit confused. He knew that Huete's gang should have fired on them by now, but they were hesitating. This definitely smelled like a trap. It was too easy getting to the front.
* * *
Where is every fucking body, Loralei thought as she and Kara made their way down yet another long corridor. This place had to have been some type of hospital. There were too many damn rooms for it to be anything else. Kara was in a hurry to get out and Loralei had to tell her a dozen or more times to slow down. Panic was not their friend, not in a situation such as this. After passing through several hallways, it appeared that they were getting closer to the front of the building. At that point, Loralei could hear voices again. Huete. Torcido. The others she didn't recognize. Yes, this was definitely a set up. She could hear the men discussing their 'guests,' and making mention of 'Primera.' Of course, they didn't know that 'Primera' was knocked the fuck out and cuffed to the cot. The only ambush to be made would be her on the end and the team from the outside. She knew that Donovan was smart enough to evade a trap. She checked the gun and noted that at the time she snagged it, it was fully loaded. She had only expended one bullet. She couldn't take out all of them, but she could try to take out as many as she could. She glanced at Kara and mouthed, 'we'll wait, and then rush in, but only when I yell.'
* * *
Donovan and Farron were closing the distance between the grounds and the front of the building. They watched, astonished, as the guards slipped back inside. What the fuck? Donovan shook his head incredulously. Their lack of subtlety astounded him. Didn't they realize he hadn't been a greenhorn agent in several years? He ordered Alex and Jake to stand back and keep sharp. There was a great possibility that several other men were lurking about, and they couldn't take any chances. At it was, it took extreme control to prevent rushing onward. At this point, it would be a grave mistake. Donovan motioned toward his brother, indicating that he should stand back as well. They had stepped into the belly of the beast, and had to play the waiting game. He hoped his wife was alive. He was content to stand outside forever, but the sound of sporadic gunfire broke his stillness.
"Goddamn it, move," Donovan roared.
All six of them entered the building at once. They had little time to announce themselves. They dove behind any cover they could find and exchanged gunfire crazily. Wonderingly, Donovan listened to his wife's voice screaming, cursing. The temptation to look for her was great. He had to maintain his wits, keep his mind focused on the job. He had no intention of making her a widow tonight, and that's where he was headed if he didn't resist the urge. He listened in horror as Loralei screamed for Kara to take cover. Fuck me, he thought. She's fucking shooting. What the hell was she thinking? Donovan sprung up and began shooting at the idiot plunking bullets into the counter he had ducked behind. Blindly, he squeezed the trigger, and wasn't sure if he missed or hit. In that split second, he saw Loralei's head emerging from around the corner as she squeezed off her own shot. She was trying to get the same guy. This is the most bizarre shit I've ever seen, he thought. He didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or throttle her for taking such an extraordinary risk. How did she get the damn gun? How?
"My gun is dead," Loralei screamed out, "Kara throw me that semi-auto by your feet!"
Her gun was dead? She was commanding Kara to throw her another? He began to wonder if this was all a weird dream that he was unable to awaken from. He came up again, squeezed off yet another spastic round, saw one guy fall, and then another. He was able to get another look at her, and noticed that she was handling the gun as if she had never stopped using one. Goddamn, he felt…proud. I shouldn't be thinking like this, I shouldn't be doing this. This is no laughing matter. However, in tense situations such as these, no one wanted to focus on the dim and grim. In the distance, he heard the unmistakable wail of sirens. The fucking police had finally made it. He glanced behind him at Farron. His twin was focused and unreachable. Not wanting to distract him, he turned away and demanded that his agents call out. He didn't know if they were alive or dead. When he was certain that they were alive and shooting, he noticed that the gunfire had tapered off a bit. It meant one of two things. Either the bad guys were disabled or regrouping. He wanted to call out to Loralei, but she didn't need the distraction, either. He came up slowly once again, and once again, saw the top of her head, and then her eyes. She was grimly reloading the gun, getting it ready to burst through the remainder of the men standing. He exchanged a brief glance with her, needing to make some kind of contact, and she stunned him by flipping him off. At first, he was confused, but then realized it was her way of telling him she was fine. Donovan ducked back down, not wanting to risk getting shot.
Loralei glanced around the corner and saw the only two men standing: Huete and Torcido. They were cringing behind the furniture, only looking up when they needed to. By that time, the battle had nearly ended. Most the gang was either dead or injured. Donovan took another chance to peek over the counter. He noticed exactly what Loralei did. He saw the main men of the operation hiding. He wasn't sure if either were armed. He figured at least one of them would be. Suddenly, from outside, they heard a Chicago cop demanding surrender. Goddamn, Donovan thought. They wouldn't surrender. Both Loralei and Donovan watched as Huete and Torcido began slipping by the couch. There was a door very close to them, and they were attempting an escape.
"Freeze," Donovan roared, his gun aimed perfectly, held steadily.
Although he had roared upon deaf ears, Torcido turned toward Donovan and raised his weapon. Donovan didn't flinch as Torcido squeezed off a shot. His aim was worse than his disposition. Firing on a federal agent, Donovan thought, naughty naughty. He returned fire and hit Torcido square in the chest. At that point, Huete was trying to make a run for it, and Loralei did not hesitate.
"He's mine," she called to Donovan.
Before he had the chance to breathe, protest, laugh, or cry, she grabbed the gun and ripped half a dozen bullets into his lower legs. She wanted the fucker taken alive.
* * *
By the time the police made it inside, the short, but intense gunfight was over. Three men had died, including Torcido. The others had critical injuries, but they would live. The group stood back and watched as the men were carted away. Loralei directed the men to the bitch. As the police led her away, her hands cuffed in front of her body, Donovan noticed her bloody mouth. Loralei had the greatest urge to walk up to the bitch and trip her. He glanced at wife, who was standing to the side, answering dozens of questions. His eyes asked: 'did you do that?' Hers answered: 'you bet your sweet ass.'
Donovan didn't get a chance to see Loralei alone, without the prying eyes of the crowd, until the clean up was nearly complete. He found her leaning against the wall, her face in her hands. If she heard one more damn question, she would scream. Unable to stay away for another moment, he approached her and stood directly in front of her.
"What you did out there was crazy, Loralei," he told her.
She looked up at him. "Need I remind you that you do it every day," she asked, smiling a little. "I couldn't stand back, couldn't let them kill you. They wanted to take you out."
"Goddamn it," he said, taking her into his embrace. "Are you okay?"
She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly. "I'm fine, Frank, wonderful."
He kissed her, withdrew, and kissed her again. Goddamn it. Goddamn it all. He couldn't believe that she had walked away from this craziness without so much as a scratch. "You're going to the hospital anyway," he said.
She pulled back from him. "No, I don't need a hospital, I'm fine. I told you."
"I don't care how 'fine' you say you are. Please, get checked out."
She gazed into his deep brown eyes. He was worried about the baby; worried that something would happen like the first time. After the shock wore off, she remembered that she had not been fine, not at all. She nodded. "I'll go."
In the other corner, Farron stood with Kara, and had her body pressed against the wall. He couldn't stop touching her, kissing her. He was amazed at the emotion rushing through him. He held her as she cried for him, cried for the injuries he sustained. She cried because she thought she lost him. God help her, but she was falling in love with him, and he felt it, felt it with everything he had in him.