BACK TO FORMULA
Mateo had been dragged from a darkened room and led to a dilapidated elevator. Although he was facing his death, he had quite the smug smile on his face. Pedro and one of his buddies had had to cuff his hands together. The swelling might go down in Pedro's nose in a couple of days. He actually hoped he had broken it. There were a number of times that he wanted to break his nose. Mateo watched with great interest as Pedro stabbed a button. Curiously, the other man had hit 'G.' They were taking him to…the morgue? How appropriate. He would meet his final end in an abandoned hospital morgue. He shook his head and found a deep chuckle building in his throat. Mateo had no idea why he found that thought so deliciously funny, but it was. No burial necessary. Just take my cold dead corpse and throw it into the nearest meat locker. Burn the building and have done with it all. At that point, he couldn't help it. He began chuckling and then it became full force laughter. Pedro and his bulldog hermano released his forearms when he began laughing like a loon. Perhaps they were afraid his insanity would spread. After several long seconds, his laughter finally dried up. He had laughed so hard that there were tears in his eyes. Mateo couldn't wipe them away because his hands were cuffed behind his back. Instead, he blinked them away. He had no idea how in the hell he could find it in him to laugh. He figured it was because there was nothing else to fear. He was no longer a yellow dog running to keep his ass safe while others paid for his mistakes. Mateo took in a deep breath and then let it out very slowly. He felt better at this moment than he had since…since [the babies were born]… He chewed on his bottom lip. It was much better for him not to focus on that, because if he did, he would lose every ounce of his composure.
The elevator ride down to the ground floor lasted no longer than a few moments, but it seemed like a lifetime to Mateo. The ancient elevator stopped and jarred the men hard enough to rattle their teeth. The doors came open slowly and Mateo saw weak light paving the way toward his death. In the back of his mind, he heard another little voice popping up in the back of his head. Dead man walking! Hadn't he heard that in a movie somewhere? He couldn't remember, but again, he found it deliciously funny. Another chuckle was building within him, however this time, he was able to control it. Perhaps he would wait and laugh in Raphael's face instead. Wouldn't the little pincha [prick] love it? At the end of the hallway, his eyes focused on the room before him. It was mostly deserted. There were no tables or trays or instruments once used for autopsy. I'll bet that angered Raphael. I would have paid to see his tantrum. The only piece of furniture in the entire room was a desk, and an expensive one from the look of it. It seemed horridly out of place in this cold and barren room. Behind the desk was who he assumed to be Raphael Ortiz. Mateo was surprised. He looked nothing like his father. He was tall and thin with very long black hair tied back with a hank of rawhide. His features were sharp and cruel; his eyes were like small black marbles. The younger Ortiz gave off an aura of an Aztec heritage. He could see how a young woman could be sucked in by his looks and false charm. One look convinced Mateo that this man was vicious and sadistic. It was the only trait he had in common with his father.
On the other side of the desk, Raphael Ortiz studied the alleged legendary Mateo Luis. There was nothing special about the man. He was well over six feet tall and very dark. He had the dark eyes and black hair of the hermanos. He was no more Colombian than his puta [whore]. However, he could see how Mateo blended in, how he passed in the gang. His father had put his complete trust in this yellow dog, but seeing him in person, he couldn't understand why. What was it about him that was so grand and special? This was his father's top trafficker? It was completely sad. His father must have been slipping up before Mateo called in the federales. Slowly, Raphael stood and approached the front of his desk. He didn't get too close to Mateo. Watch him, my son, the voice of his father said. He is very sneaky. He blended in with us for many years. Watch him. With Pedro and Ramon flanking each side of Mateo, there wasn't much that he could do.
Raphael smiled. "I suppose my father never mentioned he had a son, did he," he began. "And yes, Mateo, I speak the English, because there are a few surprises awaiting you. I don't want to spoil the fun." He crossed his arms over his chest and broadened his smile. He truly hated this bastard standing before him. "After I unveil my gifts to you, I'll leave you to Pedro. I'm sure he'll enjoy beating the shit out of you before he graces you with the ultimate of all gifts. You do know what a Colombian necktie is, don't you? I'm sure you've seen it done many times." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe you haven't. Weren't you the hermano who wouldn't kill a man? Ah, but you did. You cut down Pablo Dominguez. He was your running buddy. How could you murder your own hermano, Mateo? Of course, yellow dogs tend to do that type of thing."
Mateo gritted his teeth together and felt his blood pressure rising. To call Dominguez his brother was like kicking him in the groin with a steel-toed boot. It pissed him off thoroughly. If his hands were free… "Pablo wasn't my hermano. I have only one brother and he would never associate with the likes of you. I killed him to protect my brother." He shook his head. His old/new self was creeping back in. Mateo didn't have a brother, but Farron did. Give up the façade. You left the life almost three years ago. You can no longer keep it up. "Torture me. Cut me to small pieces. I…don't…care. You can have your bulldogs finish me in this room. Do what you must. I'm here, I've met your demands, and now you must meet mine. You above anyone else should know that it's not the Colombian way to break a deal. Where…are…the…babies?" His last four words were bit out through gritted teeth. Behind him, his hands were clenched in tight fists. He kept his fingernails short, but he could feel them cutting into his flesh. Somehow, he didn't think the younger Ortiz was going to honor their deal.
The smile never left Ortiz's face. "Mateo, did you think I would make your death quick or painless? Do you think my father rotting away in a prison cell is quick and painless? Have you ever been in prison, Mateo? I don't think so. You have a federale brother who keeps your balls out of the fire. You should have gone down with my father, but you didn't. You spilled your yellow guts and got off on a technicality. With that said, why should I honor our deal? At this very moment, in this very building, I have all I need to avenge my father."
Mateo lunged for Ortiz, but his bulldogs held him back. Farron was slowly creeping in, trying to take over again. Let him go, you are not Mateo anymore. He knew he was walking into a trap, walking toward his own death. However, he didn't expect Raphael to back out. No matter how unreasonable or cruel Jesus Ortiz was, he never broke a deal. His son was different. If he ever came to power like Ortiz did, hell would arrive on earth. "The babies are innocents, Ortiz. They have never caused anyone any harm. They will not pay for my sins. Release the babies to their mother, take me, and finish me. Finish me and end this mindless game of vengeance."
Ortiz laughed again and shook his head. "I can't believe that you're the man my father once spoke so highly of. He painted you as a strong, ruthless trafficker. You were a man I aspired to be some day. And now I look at you and you're pathetic, Mateo. You're a sniveling coward trying to talk your way into release. I have no sympathy for you or those babies."
"I don't want your sympathy, you fucker. I want you to honor the deal you struck. As much as I hated your father, he honored his deals. He never shirked them. I see you're nothing like him," Mateo said. "What have you done with the babies, Raphael? That's all I want to know."
"Pathetic, Mateo, absolutely pathetic. I'm thoroughly tired of listening to your voice. It hurts my head, and turns my stomach, almost as much as listening to your brats wailing. Goddamn, they cry so much. Your children are very spoiled, Mateo. What is it that you and your wife do to them that makes them cry so much? Perhaps your wife should have breastfed them? Maybe that would have fixed them up. Do you think? I've seen the little yellow dogs on many occasions. They look exactly like you. What are their names? Brittany? Bryce? Is that it? Your children will grow up…maybe… knowing that their father was a fucking coward." He watched Mateo's facial expression change from a snarl to a look of horror. It was the first time all night that he had seen any emotion on the man's face. While he was locked away in a cell, he watched as Mateo casually sat on the cot as if he didn't have a care in the world. Ortiz reasoned that Mateo must not have loved his children as much as he once thought. However, right at that moment, Mateo was gone, and the father of those squalling brats was beginning to kick in. It was exactly what he wanted. Mateo was a sad shell of his former self. He went from being a man he greatly admired as a teenager to one he wanted to pity. "So, Mateo, I do think it's time for us to get started. I thought it would be nice for you to see your bastards one last time before you go. There are a couple of other things I would like to do before Pedro and Ramon take you away."
Mateo watched as Raphael moved to a door just behind his desk. He opened it and stuck his head through, calling out an order in Spanish. Mateo couldn't hear it all, but it sounded like 'bring them in.' A young woman, probably no older than 'Lisa,' pushed a stroller into the room. Two healthy sets of lungs chimed in immediately. As if sensing their father's presence, they began to cry even louder.
It was Mateo who watched as the babies were pushed in front of him and gave the girl who handled their stroller a cursory glance. When his eyes moved slowly toward the twins, it was Farron who took a step forward, only to be pulled back roughly and shoved to his knees. He also took a hard shot to the ribs, but he never felt the pain. His eyes were focused on his children. His heart broke to see them, crying and reaching for him, unable to understand why he was not offering them any comfort. His breath left him in deep angry bursts. He was more than willing to die for his sins, to die for his children, but it was unfathomable to him how anyone would take pleasure in killing a child. My children.
"Crawl to your bastards, Mateo," Raphael snarled. "Crawl like the pig animal you are."
Farron jerked his arms loose from Pedro and Ramon and glared up at him. "What more do you want, Raphael? You will have your revenge…send them home."
"No more words, Mateo," Raphael ordered. He reached down and grabbed Mateo by the collar and dragged him to his squalling brats. "How do you stand them, Mateo? Their noise is deafening."
Farron whipped his head toward Ortiz and glared at him. "Shut your fucking mouth."
Raphael laughed wickedly. "I grow tired of you." He waved to Pedro. "Watch him. I will be but a moment."
Farron barely noticed Ortiz leave the room. His mind was going numb; he could feel the end nearing and his only wish was that through some miracle, his children would get back to their mother. Kneeling before Brittany and Bryce, Farron bent toward them, pressing soft kisses and whispering soothingly to them. He heard the snickering and crude comments passing between Pedro and Ramon, but it never fazed him. The only thing that was getting through was the feel of tiny fingers and fists as they pressed into his cheek. He hadn't wanted to see the children again, not really. It was so hard to let go, but it wasn't as if he had a choice in the matter. His twins had quieted down to just a sniffle here or there. Inwardly he smiled. They were good babies; they responded to his love just as their mother did, and returned it unconditionally. He kissed them once more before whispering, "Be good, take care of your mother, and please…please do not ever forget how important you are to each other."
It was a lesson he learned the hard way. He had let jealousy get in his way and it tore him away from his twin and eventually his entire family. He prayed that never happened to his babies. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he never heard the door opening.
Kara was frightened out of her mind, certain she was about to meet her end. The man who had taken her from her cell held her from behind with his hand clamped over her mouth. The errant thought of whom he was afraid she would call out to tickled her brain. It was almost hilarious. There was no one. She focused her eyes as the man reached out and opened the door in front of her. It was all she could do to control the hysteria that was building within her.
Her eyes widened when she beheld the sight of Farron crouched before the stroller, talking softly to the twins. She struggled to free herself, but only managed to cause the man's hand to move slightly. It was just enough for her to get a good grip on his fingers with her teeth and bite down as hard as she could.
Raphael howled in pain as he pulled away and backhanded Mateo's whore, watching with a sick thrill how she fell hard to the floor, whimpering as she covered her wounded face. "Maldita puta! " [Fucking whore!]
Ortiz's scream caused the twins to squall. Farron made moves to get to his feet to somehow inflict pain on Oritz for touching his wife, but Pedro quickly kicked him back to the floor. He was literally dying inside. Never, ever had he thought Kara would have been foolish enough to follow him. Because he had insisted on handling this on his own, meeting Raphael's demands and finally paying penance for his misdeeds, he had forced his wife into a deadly game. He glared at Ortiz. "If you take your twisted revenge out on my family, you can be certain that my brother will avenge them. Take me…only me…and you…and your father…may live. Hurt my wife and children, and I can assure you…my brother will see you both dead."
While the two men stared each other down, Kara scrambled toward Farron and her babies, uncaring if anyone would try to stop her. She was torn between wanting to embrace her husband and cherish her children. She touched Brittany and Bryce's little faces, wiping their tears away, before kissing their foreheads. She began to unstrap Bryce, wanting to hold him and his sister in her arms, but was quickly stopped when she was yanked to her feet by the hair. She cried out with the pain, but still managed to touch Farron's cheek before she was pulled out of reach.
"You think I am afraid of your brother? I hold all the cards here, Mateo."
Farron was beyond words now. He saw a flash of light as it danced off the sharp edge of the knife Raphael held in his hand. He took in the demented pleasure that flashed in Raphael's eyes as he drew it along the length of Kara's neck until it rested near her jugular. The sad fact was he was completely helpless to do anything to help her.
"Maybe…it would be worth your brother's wrath to slice up your puta [whore]. You would cry, I think. You, who pretend to be so strong and cold; you, who sits on his knees cooing to those snotty yellow dog children…oh yes, you would cry like your squalling brats."
* * *
Frank reached for the door. He could swear that the building grew and added rooms on to itself as if by magic. The walk down the hallway had to be the longest he had ever taken before. He checked over his shoulder and nodded to Alex, who stood with her gun aimed at the doorway. His eyes widened momentarily when he spotted movement down at the end of the hall. He quickly recognized Jake and silently cursed him. He made a mental note to kick his ass later for not staying with Loralei.
* * *
Farron was about to respond to Ortiz when a squeal echoed through the room. His attention, along with everyone else's in the room, turned quickly to the opening door.
Raphael loosened his grip slightly when he became startled. Kara used the opportunity to pull away. Farron had never been so glad to see his brother, or his team, in his life. Within the blink of an eye, two shots were fired, effectively taking out Pedro and Ramon. And just as quickly, Kara screamed when Ortiz pulled her back toward him. All eyes watched as her body collided with Ortiz and the force knocked them back against the wall and then down to the floor where Ortiz landed on top of her.
Farron felt as though a truck had just hit him. All the air had left his lungs and he could not breathe. He stared for what felt like hours, but in reality was only a few seconds, as the blood pooled beside the bodies. Oh God, no! Shel! He struggled against the cuffs as he growled, "Get me out of these goddamn cuffs…now!"
As Alex unlocked Farron's cuffs, Frank went to his sister in-law. With his gun fixed on Ortiz's head, he used his foot to roll the man off Kara. There was so much blood, he could not tell whose it was. He wasn't sure how he expected this disastrous evening to turn out, but he never expected this. He crouched down at her side just as Farron joined them and as his brother gathered his wife into his arms, Frank's eyes focused on the knife firmly embedded in Raphael Oritz's chest.
Farron cradled Kara in his arms and caressed her cheek. With a startled gasp, her eyes flew open and slowly focused on Farron's face. "Am I dreaming," she whispered.
"No, querida," he answered as he lowered his head to kiss her tenderly. "You are a brave woman, Kara Michelle Donovan."
"And as foolhardy as your sister in-law," Frank supplied as he stood. "You both could have been killed."
"Oh God! Loralei…we were separated," Kara cried as she scrambled to her feet.
"She's fine. I stumbled across her…literally."
"Thank God," Kara replied as she held out her arms when Alex lifted Bryce from the stroller and handed him to her. Brittany followed and was soon happily cooing within the arms of her father. As she watched him tenderly stroke her little cheek and kiss her tiny hand, Kara felt something was not quite right. Instantly she knew what it was. She stepped closer and stood on tiptoes as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. Her hand moved to the back of his head and slowly removed the bands that held his hair tied back. After his braid had been undone, Farron cast a questioning look down at her, to which she replied, "I want my husband back."
He touched his forehead to hers. "I'm sorry he ever had to leave you. I'm sorry for so many things."
Kara touched a finger to his lips, stopping him. "Don't ever apologize to me again for who you were then or who you are now. I love you."
"Oh God, Shel…I love you, too."
A disgruntled gurgle sounded from both babies causing Kara and Farron to laugh. It felt good to laugh again. Happy laughter. They kissed their babies and said, "We love you, too."
* * *
As the group began to make their way out of the building [pushing along a few stragglers of the Ortiz gang while they were at it], they heard the unmistakable sound of sirens wailing in the distance. It should have disturbed Brittany and Bryce, but they were finally able to sleep safely and securely in their parents' arms. A bit distracted, Donovan left one of the heavies to his brother [hoping that he didn't take a wild hair and murder him]. He was looking for Loralei and prayed that she hadn't come running into the building after Jake left her. However, when he drew closer to his car, he saw her leaning up against it, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. He wanted to strangle her for what she had done. Her tenacity irritated him sometimes, but he realized he wouldn't have wanted anything less. He was afraid that one of these days he would lose her because of that trait.
"They got out, didn't they," she asked, her voice quaking. She had heard the reports from the weapons.
He nodded. "They did. They're at the front of the building waiting for the entire city of Chicago to arrive and take the bad guys away. Kara is holding onto them all."
She let out a long, relieved sigh. "Thank God," she whispered. "I'm the one who summoned the troops."
He approached her, nearly standing right up against her, and his hand came out to her cheek. "Goddamn it, Loralei. I was certain that I was going to lose you, my brother, his wife, and our niece and nephew all in the same night. Why do you do such insane things?"
"I don't know," she said. For no reason at all, she began to cry. "I…I just don't know."
"I would tell you not to do it again, but you wouldn't listen, would you," he commented lightly and then kissed her forehead. "Come on," he said as he took her hand. "The whole crew should go to the ER."
* * *
After turning over his 'charge' to the first officer on the scene, Farron focused his attention back on his wife and children. He stood next to Kara, his body pressed against hers. He couldn't get close enough to her; he was almost afraid that if he let go of her or Brittany for an instant, she and the twins would disappear.
"I want to go home," Kara sighed tiredly.
Farron nodded as he put his arm around her shoulders. She looked as exhausted as he felt. "I know, but I think we should take the babies to the hospital."
Kara leaned against him for support. "You're right, baby. I'll go find a phone and call Doctor Berger and ask him to meet us at the hospital."
He gripped her shoulder in response. He wasn't letting her out of his sight for the rest of the night, possibly not for the rest of the week. "No need," he assured her as he nodded toward a group of approaching policemen.
"Caught this little chippie fleeing the scene, Donovan," Stu announced, hauling into view the young girl who had been caring for the twins.
"Yeah, she aided Ortiz," Farron snarled. His grip tightened protectively on his daughter. Kara drew even closer to him and he was sure she did the same with Bryce. "Get her out of my sight."
"You heard the man," Stu yelled, shoving the girl off into the clutches of Officer Creecy, who was more than happy to remove the woman from their friend's presence.
"Stu," Kara began, glancing at the cell phone fixed to his belt "Can I borrow your phone?"
"Sure, Kara…"
She thanked him and then went about the business of calling the Everett family physician.
* * *
Unusually, the ER wasn't that crowded. It didn't take long to get in and the attending physician decided it might be a good idea to admit Loralei. Her head had been smacked pretty hard and she had a concussion. She wasn't happy about having to stay overnight, but she didn't argue about it much. Donovan left her at one point and when he returned, he heard her voice mingled and mixed with Alex's and Kara's. Whatever they were talking about must have been something, because they were laughing heartily. The moment Donovan stepped up to the doorway, their laughter dried up and the conversation stopped. However, their eyes gleamed almost…wickedly.
"Why do I feel as if the three of you are scheming," he asked with a crooked smile.
"That's because we usually are," Loralei said with her own smile.
First Alex and then Kara gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Hold down the fort, okay," Kara said lightly as she walked past her brother in-law.
Donovan watched as the smiling women exited Loralei's hospital room. He approached her bedside and sat down. "What was that all about," he asked suspiciously.
"Oh, nothing," she said innocently. "Everyone is just really…really happy, that's all."
"You're bullshitting me, LD," he said, not unkindly.
"Maybe…maybe not," she told him, intentionally mocking his patented eyebrow lift.
"You drive me up the wall sometimes," he told her. "But I don't know what I'd do without you."
She laid her hand on his leg. "Don't get all sexy on me in public, not if you know what's good for you."
--To be continued…