J.M.J.
Author's note: Thank you so much for continuing to read! Thank you especially to Candylou, ErinJordan, MargaretA66, and max2013 for your reviews on the previous chapter and to angelicalkiss for your reviews as you catch up! I so appreciate it. Absolutely don't worry, Candylou; you weren't disrespectful in the least! I know you're all hoping for a happy ending, so…as I said last chapter, please don't hate me. God bless!
Chapter XXIV
Frank was stopping his rental car behind Joe's parked car. He had been on his way back to Joe's apartment when he had gotten Callie's text, and he had immediately changed courses and headed to the location she had given. He had tried to call her, but the call went straight to voicemail. Now that he was out here, he saw that the cell signal was very weak. It was enough for a text to get through, but not a phone call. Fortunately, Frank had already called Gomez while he was on his way. Gomez had promised to come himself immediately and bring several of his officers, but Frank knew there would be a delay of as much as fifteen minutes before the police arrived. He might not be able to afford losing that time.
Before he got out of the car, he checked his handgun to make sure it was loaded and in working order. Then he got out and examined Joe's car. There were no signs of a struggle or a hasty departure from it. Joe and Callie had left it freely and without issue. Next, Frank walked to the edge of the gorge and looked down. His heart almost stopped as he saw a figure lying at the bottom.
"Joe!" he shouted.
He rushed down the side of the gorge as quickly as he could, half-sliding most of the way. It took longer than he liked. By the time he reached his brother's side, Joe was already starting to stir.
"Hey, easy," Frank said, breathing easier with relief. "You've got quite the bump on the back of your head."
"Tell me about it," Joe replied with a grimace. He reached up to feel the injury, but then he winced and pulled his hand.
"What happened?" Frank asked. "And where's Callie?"
"Callie!" Joe tried to stand up, but he became too dizzy before he made it.
"Where is she?" Frank repeated, his anxiety growing.
"I don't know. Wait! She was walking. That direction." Joe pointed in the direction that Angelo had sent Callie in originally.
"Where did Angelo go?"
Joe shook his head. "Who knows? Maybe that way?" He pointed in the opposite direction.
Frank had his doubts about how well Joe was remembering the incident, not to mention the fact that he had evidently not been conscious for all of it. Any direction was possible. "Were they together? Did Angelo take Callie somewhere?"
It took a few seconds for Joe to think that one out, but then he shook his head. "No, Callie already left to find Tony. Then Angelo had a gun. We fought over it. He must have hit me."
"And you don't remember anything after that." Frank frowned thoughtfully and then added, "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good. I've just got a headache. We've got to find Callie and Tony."
"You're sure they're that way?"
"That's what Angelo said, anyway. I know Callie went that way. I'm sure of it."
Joe tried to get up again, but his cheeks took on a sudden pallor. Frank caught him before he fell.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Frank asked.
"Maybe…I'd better stay here," Joe conceded. "I'll probably slow you down."
"No, I don't think that's a good idea. If Angelo's still running around, I don't think we'd better split up. Just lean against me. You'll probably be fine in a few minutes."
He helped Joe to stand up, and despite wavering again, Joe was able to manage it with his brother's help. Then they slowly started in the direction where Callie had gone. Frank didn't like the idea of letting Angelo go, but he was more interested in finding his wife and his friend just now.
After a few steps, Frank noticed footprints in the dust. There was one set going in the direction Joe had pointed, but there was another coming back again. Considering that the latter prints were more defined, Frank thought they must have been made more recently. He stopped.
"Hold on. It looks like Callie came back this way."
Joe blinked at the tracks, as if it took him a few seconds to understand them. Then he nodded. "Must have been while I was unconscious."
"Yeah. Maybe she heard the scuffle."
"Uh-huh. The gun went off. She must have heard that."
Frank nodded, still looking at the tracks as if they would give him all the answers. "So she came back to see what had happened. And then what? Did she follow Angelo?"
There was a few seconds' delay before Joe said, "No. She wouldn't have left me lying there."
"Right." Frank glanced at Joe. He must be recovering; he thought of that one before Frank did. Not that the thought was much comfort. "Then the only reason she would have left is because Angelo forced her to go with him." He let out a long breath. "At least this is a good place for footprints. We should be able to see which way they went."
It took them a little scouting around, but they soon found what had to be the prints they were looking for. There was a clear set of footprints alongside another set of marks that were sometimes clear footprints and other times indeterminate drag marks.
"Doesn't look like Callie went willingly," Joe commented.
Frank didn't say anything. He simply hurried forward as fast as he could. Joe was recovering a bit, but Frank realized that he was probably pushing him harder than he liked. His hope was that they wouldn't have to go far.
In about half an hour, the trail led them to a small opening in the side of the gorge, about six feet high and three or four wide. Frank turned on the flashlight on his phone and shone it in. Instantly, they heard a sort of grunting and groaning. They recognized it right away: it was the sort of sounds a person made when they were bound and gagged. Frank flashed the light around quickly and spotted Callie off to the side. She was lying on the ground with her hands bound behind her back with duct tape and another strip covering her mouth. From her position, both men had the impression that she had been trying to get herself free and had fallen in the attempt.
Frank rushed forward. "Are you okay?" he asked, scanning her for any sign of injury. He didn't see any. "Hold still. Let me get that gag off."
Callie stopped moving and trying to speak, but it was still obvious from her eyes that she was agitated. Frank started to gently pull the duct tape off and try to save her as much pain as possible, but that was too slow. Callie quickly turned her head to one side while Frank was holding an edge of the tape and it came off in one painful motion.
"You've got to hurry! It might not be too late!" she said.
"What are you talking about?" Frank asked.
"Tony! He's somewhere in this cavern. Angelo is going to kill him! It was only maybe fifteen minutes ago that he left me here. Maybe it's not too late."
Joe made a move like he was going to bolt into the recesses of the cave, but Frank stopped him.
"Wait," Frank said. "We can't leave Callie here, so we can't both go. It makes more sense for me to go."
"I thought you said we shouldn't split up," Joe protested.
"We don't have a choice now. Get Callie free. Gomez and the police should be coming soon. Try to meet up with them. I know, I know. I know how you both feel about Gomez, but we need help, and he's all we're going to get."
It was tempting for Joe to try to argue, but he didn't. Instead, he took out his pocketknife and started trying to saw through the tape holding Callie's wrists together.
Once Frank saw that his request was going to be obeyed, he headed into the cavern. He tried to shade his light with his hand to possibly prevent himself from being seen before he saw Angelo, but he knew it wasn't much use. It was dark enough in here that any light at all would stand out, but he couldn't keep going without a light. Besides, if it turned out he was too late…he would need the light, since there wouldn't be anything to hear. But he tried not to think about that.
After a few minutes, he heard a sound ahead and he paused to listen. It wasn't voices, but it was someone moving around. Frank switched off his light and inched closer. As his eyes adjusted, he saw that there was a little light coming from around a turn up ahead. He crept to it and peered around. Angelo had set a flashlight on the ground and was bending over something to work on it. Frank could only really see what was directly in the beam of the light, but he could make out a little in the peripheries. A movement caught his eye.
"You don't have to be so dramatic," a voice that Frank knew well said. Tony! He didn't sound well, but he was still alive, and that was the main thing.
"Shut up," Angelo told him.
"Or what?" Tony replied. "There's nothing you can threaten me with now."
Angelo whirled around to face him. "I said to shut up! I don't need you trying to talk me out of this."
"Are you saying I could talk you out of it?"
There was a pause of a few seconds. "No," Angelo said finally. "You can't talk me out of it. Let's just get it over with."
He turned back to the object that he had been working on. Frank had gotten a chance to see it a little more clearly when Angelo had gotten out of his line of vision. It looked like an explosive of the sort that would be used in road construction.
"I'm just going to give myself time to get out of here and then I'll trigger the explosion," Angelo said, confirming Frank's suspicions. "I can't wait too long to let it blow, or someone might find you."
Frank knew he was in a dangerous spot. He couldn't wait for help since there was most likely mere seconds left. If he confronted Angelo, it was hard to say how he might react. He might start shooting—Frank could see that he had a gun tucked in his waistband—or he might panic and set off the explosive. No one involved in Black Rose seemed to have any regard for life, not even their own. Frank could wait for Angelo to leave, but he really would have only seconds to get Tony out of there, not to mention Joe and Callie, who were too close for comfort in the case of an explosion.
"Some choice," Frank muttered under his breath.
There really wasn't a choice, though. Only one of those plans had any chance for success, and it was still a long way from a guarantee. He muttered a silent prayer and drew his gun from its holster. Bracing himself, he stepped forward and pointed it at Angelo.
"Freeze! Police!"
Angelo didn't freeze. He jumped out of the beam of light toward Tony, and in the darkness, Frank didn't dare fire a shot in that direction. There was a momentary scuffling sound and then Angelo came back partially into the light. Frank groaned internally, although he didn't give any outward sign of his feelings, as he saw that Angelo was holding Tony in front of him as a kind of human shield while pointing his gun in Frank's direction.
"Get back, cop!" Angelo shouted. "I can see you well enough to shoot you."
Frank didn't move or even loosen his grip on his own weapon, but he did soften his voice. "Put the gun down, Angelo. I know you don't really want to hurt anyone."
Even in the dim lighting, he saw the flicker of recognition in Tony's eyes. Frank didn't know whether Angelo realized who he was dealing with or not or even whether it would matter.
"I'm prepared to do whatever is necessary," Angelo replied coolly.
"Then why the explosives? You got your ransom. Let Tony go."
"You think this was about the ransom?" It sounded like Angelo expected Frank to have seen through the plan already. He abruptly stopped himself. "That's just as well."
"You don't need to kill anyone," Frank said. "Is there something else you want? We can work something out. Killing Tony won't get you anything."
Angelo stiffened. "Frank. It's you, isn't it? Well, good. Good. If you want to go rescue someone, your wife is at the other end of that tunnel. She can explain the whole thing. And your brother…"
"Yes, I already found them both."
"Is Joe all right?" Angelo asked.
Frank couldn't help a slight change in expression at this unexpected question. "Does it matter to you?"
"It's a very pertinent question, yes," Angelo insisted.
"He's going to be all right."
"Aw. A pity. It would have made things simpler for me right now if he was dead." Angelo took a half step to his left, dragging Tony with him. Then he stopped. "There is one way that I could let Tony live and that I could solve all my problems."
"What?"
"This."
What happened next was almost too fast to take in. Angelo stiffened his arm and twitched his finger to pull the trigger. Even in the darkness, he couldn't have missed Frank at that range, but he wasn't allowed a clear shot. Tony reached up and grabbed his arm. He wasn't strong enough to pull it or push it in any direction, but it was enough to ruin the aim. The shot went wide. Frank instinctively ducked back around the corner before he realized that Angelo wouldn't have hit him in any case. Angelo lost his grip on Tony and Tony fell to the floor. Whether in a fit of anger or to follow through on his plan, Angelo aimed his gun at him and fired.
"No!" Frank shouted, firing his own weapon.
Angelo whirled around and shot at him. Frank felt a burning pain in his right arm and lost his balance so that he had to lean heavily against the wall. It gave Angelo his chance to escape and he took it. Frank fired after him once more, but between the darkness, his wounded arm, and his agitation, he missed.
He heard a faint moan and he lumbered forward. He grabbed the flashlight as he went and turned it so that it would illuminate the area where Tony was. What he saw made his heart drop.
Tony was lying on his back with his eyes closed. His face was badly bruised and had several cuts. His clothes were torn and each tear had a bloodstain around it and revealed more bruises and cuts underneath. As concerning as all that was, it hardly even registered in Frank's mind. Practically all he could see was the bullet wound in Tony's chest.
Frank allowed himself only a few seconds to stare in horror. Then he ripped his vest off—he didn't even notice any pain from where the other bullet had grazed his arm—and rushed forward. He folded the vest over and pressed it against the wound. Tony grunted softly and tried to move.
"Tony, I'm going to need you to stay still," Frank told him gently. "I know it hurts, but I've got to stop the bleeding."
Tony blinked once before closing his eyes again. "Is it bad?" he whispered.
Frank hesitated to answer.
"Must be," Tony whispered.
"Tony, don't worry," Frank said. "You've just got to hold on. There's help coming."
"Thanks for coming for me. I'm glad I'm not…alone." Tony almost gave a faint smile. "Thought I…would be."
"I didn't…I didn't really do anything. I should have stopped him…gotten control of…I'm so sorry, Tony." Tears welled up in Frank's eyes as reality caught up with him. He hadn't rescued his friend; Tony was dying and Frank had just let it happen. Tony was dying and it was his fault.
"It's okay." Tony opened his eyes once more. "Couldn't help it. 'M ready. Just…stay with me."
"I'm not going anywhere," Frank assured him through his tears.
Tony closed his eyes again. His face was losing color quickly, and Frank could see that his efforts were doing little to stop the bleeding. He watched his friend's face. The pain was clear to see, but beneath it was peace. Something about it crushed Frank's last wild, desperate hope that Tony could hold on until help arrived. Still holding the folded vest against the wound, he hung his head and wept.
