Hell on the Heart (31 page)

“Welcome to the family.”

From the wooded area to the right, Dare emerged, his glock in his hands but pointed toward the ground. “Before we get out the shotgun and play here-comes-the-bride, I’d suggest you gather your men. We’ve got trouble on the way.”

Nicholae’s arrogance pricked John. He was pretty sure it wasn’t by accident. “One. We don’t know he’s a lone gunman and two, we know for sure he’s packing explosives, C4 and dynamite. Are you prepared for that?”

Nicholae and Luca exchanged a look. Finally the silver fox spoke, “We’ll gather the men in the dining hall.”

“What about the women and children?”

To his youngest son, Luca said, “Tomas, get them to the tunnels. Stay with them. Make sure they’re safe.” He turned toward Nicholae. “Cezi?”

John shook his head. Even though the Lucas hadn’t directed the question to him, the gypsies needed to know he was the one in charge. “She won’t go willingly and we may need her.”

Her father was at heart a warrior. His furrowed brow and tightened jaw told John exactly how much he hated his daughter being used as bait. But when he didn’t refuse, it also said how much he understood the futility of harnessing Cezi’s spirit.

“Czigany and I’ll meet you at the hall. But to clear the air about the other thing, I’m going to marry your daughter, so get used to seeing me around… Dad.”

Neither smiled. John intended his announcement to be simply a statement of fact. Her father could accept or not. The gypsies would follow his lead.

In a pissing contest, the one who made concessions lost. Nicholae looked away first.

“Like I said, welcome to the family… son.” But when he faced John, the flash of triumph in Nicholae’s eyes made John wonder if he’d had the right of it in the beginning. Was he only another pawn the gypsies had manipulated?

Cain staggered out of the drug store, the final stop of his trip, proud owner of a new pair of mirrored shades and the strongest bottle of over-the-counter painkillers he could find. His shoulder pulsed. Lightening bolts raced up and down his arm.

He wiped his sweating brow with a soggy bandana. His feet tangled and he lurched forward, banging his tender arm in the car door. He saw stars, but shook it off.

He was too close now to fail.

Would she be waiting for him? The thought of a comfortable bed and a few hours sleep enticed him. But a motel room would throw off his timing. Waiting until dark last week had proved disastrous.

Once he had her, they could find a place to rest after they were safely away.

The question was where? Going back to Boston wasn’t an option. That’d be the first place Adam would look for him. Probably offer a reward. And if his mother sensed the possibility of money, she’d be the first one to play dialing for dollars.

The warm climate and the lack of extradition in Mexico appealed to him, but he’d hated the isolated location Adam had chosen. Peata might like a beach town.

One with plenty of young female tourists might work for him also. Girls disappeared all the time on vacations in foreign countries.

Too bad he didn’t know Adam’s contacts. He snorted, visualizing Adam’s bulging eyes and pulsing temples while he yelled the house down when Cain set up a competitive operation without the high-faluting overhead.

Can’t touch me now, you bastard.

Cain pulled the van into a quiet rest stop outside Armadillo Creek. The makeshift vest he crafted out of duct tape, cardboard and dynamite was strapped carefully to his chest and then hidden by a sports jacket. His face sported a fake mustache, sunglasses and a black straw cowboy hat. Satisfied with his appearance, he got back into the van, adjusted the air conditioner to high and shifted the vents to blow directly on him. He wanted to arrive cool and calm.

The final leg of the drive was not easy. His scalp tingled. Eyes were everywhere. Would Adam have hired a small plane to track him? Cain stopped the car, got out and scanned the horizon and the cloudless blue sky. Nothing. Occasionally a farmer in a pickup passed going the opposite direction, but that was standard fare for this area. The closer he got to Armadillo Creek, the more he relaxed. No one took notice of him.

Rolf sat up in bed. A vague memory of the Shadow returning to his room and removing the IV stand and bag surfaced. He tilted his head backwards to see the stand was missing. The tape holding the needle in his hand showed only a small pinprick.

For the first time in days, he felt great. Not tap dance great, but certainly move around, feel the sun on your face great.

He opened his bedroom door and hollered downstairs, “Mom.” No one answered. His muscles protested as he pulled a white t-shirt over his head and stepped into shorts and sandals.

The house was vacant. Where was everyone? On the deck, he stopped and listened. Usually at this time of day he heard random signs of life; his brothers on the basketball court, kids down by the lake, or women chatting as they took in laundry. Today nothing but the sounds of nature and even those seemed subdued.

He hobbled down the stairs. With each step he quelled his rising panic. No one at home. No activity around the dining hall. His jaw clenched. Something was wrong.  He hobbled toward the front gate. Each step was worse than the last. If it hadn’t been for the pain, he might have believed this to be an alternate universe dream.

The empty parking lot upped his anxiety. Normally a combination of cars and golf carts would be sprinkled though out the lot. Today nothing. And the electronic gate stood open and remained completely unguarded.

This wasn’t good.

He scanned the area, seeking an explanation of any kind. Beyond the entrance the large oval grassy park was deserted. The houses, including his Uncle Nicholae’s home, showed no signs of life. If Cezi was home, she’d know what was going on. Her house was high on the hill straight in front of him.

Rolf bargained with himself. Should he hike up the hill or return home for his phone and a gun? He surveyed the quiet setting. The bright sun made his head swim and his eyes crossed each time he forced himself to focus.

A bench was set under a large pecan tree in the middle of the park setting. Cezi lounged under the tree, a book in her hand.

He started to call her name, but stopped. Cezi would never sit with her back unprotected and if she was reading it wouldn’t be fiction. Who was it? He shook his head trying to clear his blurred his vision.

An approaching car forced him to turn his head, but the elongated tan passenger van drove slowly by. Even through tinted windows Rolf saw the driver peer through the entrance. Never had the compound been so exposed.

Should he close the gate or see who was on the bench? This smacked of a plan. Interfering might be a mistake. He headed toward the girl, hoping she would turn and look in his direction.

His head ached. He blinked to vanquish the dancing spots. Gently, he touched his side and drew back bloody fingers. A slow red stain spread across the shirt. A new bandage would have to come later. He stumbled, but pushed onward.

For a brief moment he thought he saw Andrej at the edge of Nicholae’s home waving wildly. But the noise of a car drawing near distracted him.

The tan van entered the compound at top speed. With no one to stop him, the driver floored the engine, jumped the curb and headed straight toward him.

No time to think and no place to hide, he faced the vehicle like one would a charging bull, tensing his body, waiting for the impact. When the van was so close he could see the driver’s face, he dropped to the ground and rolled out of the path.

The van’s tires squealed as it braked hard. Adrenaline pumped through his veins. He crouched prepared to sprint out of the driver’s path again if needed. Instead a darkened window descended and the barrel of a gun sparkled in the sunlight.

The shot was loud.

Unarmed and uncertain what to do, he jumped backward and crashed his body into the ground like he’d been hit. Pivoting to display the blood staining his t-shirt.

His lungs demanding air, but he held his breath.

The car door slammed. This was it. Two pops to the head and he’d be a goner. But the crunching sound of dry grass and leather soles hitting the earth were going away from him. Cautiously he raised an eyelid.

The gunman wasn’t interested in him. He wanted Cezi, who sat unmoving on the bench.

Whatever was on the bench couldn’t have been a live person. And when the driver discovered that, Rolf knew his very survival depended on convincing the gunman he was not a threat.

# # #

From the limbs of the pecan tree overhead, John cursed silently. Czigany’s promise not to leave the house had gone up like a dandelion in the wind the minute her cousin appeared. She would refuse to stay hidden if she believed him to be in danger.

When Cain exited the van, John drew a bead on him. A spot-on shot. His finger on the trigger prepared to gently squeeze until he saw the vest strung with dynamite and the dead man’s switch clutched in his fingers. Killing Cain would set the van off, leaving at least three men dead and maybe a lot more.

Dare noted the same problem through a powerful pair of binoculars. “You see the switch?” his whispered words came through the earpiece.

John tapped the plastic in response and heard Dare pointing out the problem to the gypsies. Last night Cain hadn’t understood demolition, but that was hours ago. He easily could have found an Internet connection and researched enough information to be dead-on this morning.

Cain ignored Rolf and headed toward the seamstress’s dummy on the bench. His steps wove slightly as he climbed the incline. The 9mm in his left hand appeared neither steady nor natural, making him more dangerous than a professional hit man.

Twenty feet from his target, he fired and missed. The second shot scattered the plastic head as it blew apart.

“Give me the girl,” he screamed to the surrounding houses. Then whirled back to Rolf who lay on the ground.

“Get up, you piece of shit. You’re not dead yet.” He fired a shot that kicked up dirt inches from Rolf’s body. Rolf jerked as the fine pellets of sod sprayed his face. “I’ve got enough plastic explosives to blow this whole place to kingdom come.”

Cain lumbered back down the hill to the van and pulled open the rear door. From the backseat he produced another wired vest and tossed it to ground next to the prone body. “Put this on.”

Rolf protested, “I’m shot.”

“If you don’t do exactly what I tell you, I’m going to blow away both kneecaps. And that’ll only be the beginning.”

Rolf put his head through the stiff cardboard opening and struggled to his feet. John studied what he could see of the vest. Dynamite duct-taped in three rows across the front had connected wires that ran to a silver box in the middle of his back.

Cain sneered in Rolf’s direction. “Aren’t you the man? A little girl has to save you.” She stepped slowly off the porch and placed a tentative step in Cain’s direction. “Two.”

“You can go wherever I tell you to go. Those quick little fingers stole from me the last time. I’m not taking that chance again. You can’t steal if you have no place to hide anything.”

She stretched her arms wide to show she hid nothing. “I thought I was going with you.” As she spoke she took two steps closer. John’s heart leapt to his throat. He didn’t want her anywhere near Cain. She was playing him just right, but he wanted it to be anybody but her down there.

Cain hesitated. Did she surprise him by agreeing so easily?

“I’ve been watching and watching for you. What took you so long to come back?” With each sentence she took another step.

John gripped the branch to keep from dropping out the tree. The gun didn’t worry him. The dead man’s switch did. And the girl who faced Cain down terrified him.

“I came back for you, but your family shot me.” Cain sounded petulant like somehow it was her fault.

Without missing a beat, Cezi bought right into it. “Friday night? That was you? Why didn’t you tell me? Were you hurt?” She was almost close enough now to touch him. John knew she wouldn’t hesitate to act, but getting killed in the process didn’t solve any issues. For a man known for being cool under fire, he was shaking like a Chihuahua. He rose to a crouching position in the tree prepared to leap down the minute he had an opening that wouldn’t kill them both.